#and I'm not sure why people were so excited for Buck to be in a relationship that just didn't fit

[buckleydiazed]

People understand that the whole point of Buck and Tommy's relationship was that it wasn't right, correct? That it didn't fit?

Tommy only called Buck 'Evan.' Buck even corrected his PARTNTS when they called him Evan. His own SISTER calls him Buck.

Tommy literally got Buck basketball tickets for their anniversary. Buck HATES basketball.

Tommy didn't dress up for the 80's theme bachelor party, much to Buck's chagrin (guess who did dress up with Buck).

Tommy tells Buck what he's ready for in their relationship. He doesn't let Buck make those decisions.

I really enjoyed the bucktommy relationship, but it was a stepping stone. Tommy was training wheels for Buck, and that's okay!! That's what we need sometimes! But Tommy is right: he was Buck's first, not his last.

[loulovingho]

prompt: the rest of the 118 see tommy and buck be affectionate together for the first time. not just the aftermath, like with the wedding kiss, but they actually witness it. cuteness overload!

It took a few weeks for everything to calm down enough for everyone to get together.

The 118 was adjusting to working under Captain Gerrard.

Bobby and Athena were adjusting to moving into an apartment half the size of their house.

Hen and Karen were adjusting to visits with Mara every chance they could get.

Chimney and Maddie were adjusting to having two young girls running around the house.

Eddie was adjusting to being alone.

And Buck was less adjusting and more enjoying his new romance with Tommy.

He didn't mention Tommy much at work. He got sick of Gerrard's one-off comments pretty quickly. Usually, he would have been egging him on every chance he got, but it turns out he was more protective of Tommy than he originally realized, and anytime his name came out of Gerrard's mouth it made him want to punch the man.

It was easier to not bring him up.

When Bobby and Athena had finally settled into their new place, which very conveniently had a grilling and picnic area on the roof, they invited everyone over.

Bobby made sure to include Tommy in his invitation. His and Buck's relationship may have been new, but he was an old friend to the majority of the 118, and a new friend to those he hadn't known all that long.

He did not include the fact that Athena was insistent on seeing their dynamic because, “One of them is gonna give the other a run for their money and I can't figure out which one's which yet.”

In fact, the majority of the group was interested in seeing Tommy and Buck together. Everyone except Eddie, who accidentally witnessed far too much of their dynamic a couple weeks ago when he decided to head into Buck's place without knocking first.

It would be the last time he ever made that mistake.

The others couldn't help their curiosity. It was the first time Buck had ever seemed so settled in a relationship. The first time he wasn't asking for near-constant advice. The first time he wasn't endlessly concerned he was doing something wrong or about to screw things up.

Something was different. Something had shifted. They wanted to know what it was.

And while Hen and Chimney had known Tommy for a long time, they hadn't exactly stayed in touch after he left. Up until the cruise rescue, Hen hadn't really spoken to him at all, and Chimney would send him a text or two each year just to ask how he was keeping up. The Tommy they knew was closeted, scared, defensive under Gerrard's leadership, cocky, and seemingly always searching for something... more.

“I'm kinda bummed,” Buck said as they headed up to the roof.

“What?” Tommy glanced at him curiously. “Why?”

“Because everyone already knows you,” he explained. “I can't introduce you as my boyfriend.”

Tommy smiled, eyes crinkling up in the cute way Buck loved. He switched the wine bottle he was holding to his other hand took Buck's hand in his, giving it a squeeze. “You can still do that, if you want. I mean, they might look at you funny, but who cares, right?”

Buck squeezed his hand back. After a moment, he gasped, eyes widening as he did a little jump. “I can introduce you to all the kids!” he exclaimed.

Tommy couldn't help but laugh at Buck's excitement. “That sounds perfect, Evan.”

*****

Bobby wasn't sure how they'd gotten to this point only five minutes into Buck arriving, but here they were. Before Tommy had even handed off the wine, Buck was going into a story on Gerrard mentioning the 1933 Griffith Park Fire, but he had been wrong about some information.

“And I was trying to tell him how twenty-nine people died, not twenty-seven, but he was insistent that I was wrong. I knew I wasn't. I had just spent a couple hours the other night reading over articles about it. When was it, Tommy?” he asked, turning to his boyfriend, “Two nights ago?”

“Uh, three. Three nights ago.”

“Right, three nights ago. See, two people died later at the hospital, so they weren't included in the initial death toll. So, obviously, I had to get online and show him...”

As Buck continued, Bobby nodded along, trying to take in at least some of what he was saying. Sometimes, when Buck got on tangents like these, it was hard to keep up.

As the discussion got more heated, Bobby noticed Tommy's hand drifted to Buck's back, resting at the base. Buck continued without missing a beat, but his voice calmed and his posture relaxed.

“Did he ever admit defeat?” Tommy asked. To Bobby's surprise, Tommy had kept his eyes on Buck the entire time. He seemed genuinely interested in every word that was coming out of Buck's mouth.

Buck shook his head. “No, he'd never do that. But he was quiet for the rest of the day, so I took it as a win.”

“Oh, that's definitely a win,” Tommy agreed.

Not that he ever doubted, but it was then that Bobby knew his initial analysis was correct. Tommy was good people, and he was good for Buck.

*****

Hen's eyes drifted over the rooftop, settling between Tommy and Buck. She had noticed earlier how they always seemed to gravitate toward each other. Now was no different. Even though they were on opposite sides of the roof, Buck talking to Maddie, and Tommy having a very expressive conversation with Jee, they would steal glances at each other. A smile here, a wink there. Buck even gave Tommy a little wave, like they hadn't been sitting side by side only five minutes ago.

“I don't think it's just the honeymoon phase for those two,” Athena said, scooting a chair closer to Hen before sitting down.

Hen rolled her eyes affectionately at yet another tiny wave from Buck before turning to Athena. “I think I agree. I've never seen Buck so smitten before, and I don't use that word often.”

“Mhm,” Athena hummed with a nod. “Tommy seems just as smitten as Buck. I don't ever remember him looking so peaceful before. I haven't worked with him much since he transferred to Harbor, but I remember what he was like before.”

Hen huffed out a laugh. “Arrogant?”

“And stiff.”

“Yeah. He changed a lot, especially after Gerrard left, but this is different.”

They kept watching as Jee got distracted by Mara and they ran off to play. Tommy walked over to Buck, who held out his hand for Tommy to take before Tommy was even close.

As soon as he could, Tommy took his hand and sat down beside him on the little couch. Buck leaned in close, whispering something in his ear, then they laughed deep and loud.

“If I watch anymore of this I'm gonna throw up,” Hen said, standing up. “I'm gonna go rescue Karen from whatever game Denny is showing her on his phone.”

Athena laughed, squeezed Hen's hand as she went by, but kept her attention on the boys.

She couldn't seem to look away.

*****

Maddie tapped Chimney's thigh, nodding toward where Buck and Tommy were standing in a corner of the rooftop, watching the sunset. They had their arms wrapped around one another, occasionally stealing a chaste kiss. “They look so happy,” she said, a warm smile on her face.

“Yeah, they do,” Chimney agreed. “I'm happy for both of them. They're good together.”

“Yeah, they are. Did you know Buck hasn't even been to his loft in a week? When he's not working he's at Tommy's place.”

“And they're not sick of each other yet?” Chimney laughed. “Oh, they're in deep.”

Before Maddie could respond, Eddie was coming up to them, kneeling down beside Chimney. “We gotta hide the clipboards.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I'm serious, man, we're gonna be in deep trouble if we don't.”

Maddie leaned forward. “Why do you need to hide the clipboards, Eddie?”

Eddie motioned to Buck and Tommy. Tommy had an arm around Buck's shoulder now, both of Buck's still wrapped around Tommy's waist. He had his head resting against Tommy's shoulder, and Tommy pressed a kissed to the top of his head. “Have you seen the two of them? I'm not even gonna go into what I witnessed a couple weeks ago-”

“Thank God.”

“-but they've got it bad for each other. I give it six months before they're engaged. You know what happens after that?”

Chimney thought for a second, sucking in a breath when the realization hit him. “Wedding planning.”

“Wedding planning,” Eddie repeated.

Maddie shook her head. “You guys are crazy.”

“What? You don't think they'll be ready to walk down the aisle in six months time?” Chimney asked.

“Oh, no, they definitely will. You're just crazy if you think not being able to find a clipboard will stop him. I don't know if you guys know this, but Notes app Buck is far worse than clipboard Buck.”

[kayhi808]

First Crush - 3

*Abby's sticker to Bucky*

After work, the Avengers are relaxing in the common room or playing pool like Clint & Bucky. Hitting Bucky on the shoulder, "I heard lunch was entertaining", Sam enters the room with Nat.

Bucky glares a Nat. "What? I couldn't help it. It was so cute."

"Cute? Are we talking about Miss Abigail Rose?" Steve smirks at Bucky leaning up against the wall by the pool table.

"Who is Abigail Rose?" Clint cocks an eyebrow at Bucky.

Natasha leans in excited to tell the story, "Fury's new assistant got called in today and she had to bring her daughter to work with her. Just cute as can be. Sweet and precocious. She had stickers all over her shirt. How old was she?"

"Two? Three maybe?"

"Adorable! Made a beeline straight to Bucky." Bucky tries to concentrate on his shot while shaking his head but the tips of his ears are turning red.

Incredulously, "Wouldn't give me the time of day," Steve acts disgruntled & shocked.

Sam teases,"You weren't her type. She's into Cyborgs."

Steve laughs, "You're right because she loved the arm! The arm was so pretty. 'I loves it!' "

"Poor mom was so embarrassed. Abby didn't want to leave Buck's side. Finally before she left she peels off a sticker from her shirt and sticks it to his arm."

Sam nods, "It was the 2yr old version of giving someone your insta." They laughs at Bucky's expense and Buck rolls his eyes.

Most people are afraid of him. He doesn't need to threaten or say anything for people to stay away. He did not have that affect on Abby. She didn't fear him at all. She seeked him out. Her tiny body leaning against him. She didn't cringe at the feel of cold metal. Her little fingers traced the gold detail on his arm.

Nat grabs Buck's arm, "Aw, where's the sticker?" Turning it, this way and that. "You lost it," Nat frowns.

Bucky pulls out his ID card and shows them the back where he stashed Abby's sticker, joining in with their laughter. "They were cute."

Clint catches him, "They??"

"She."

"Uh uh, man. You said they."

Natasha smiles slyly, ready to play matchmaker. "Y/N is gorgeous!" Bucky shrugs yet nods staring at the sticker before shoving the card back in his pocket.

*****

Some days are such a struggle. You never would have thought you'd be a widow with a baby to raise by yourself. Abby's father was a pilot in the Air Force. That's what attracted you to begin with. The image of a sexy daring fighter pilot. Things Jason did or talked about were so exciting. He was an adrenaline junkie for sure. Which is fun for a boyfriend, but not the best for a husband & father.

Now, its just you and Abby fending for yourselves. This job with the Avengers was heaven sent. It was so hard to make ends meet but now that you're with the Avengers, a huge weight has been lifted from your shoulders. You'll be able to give Abby a better life. Yet, sometimes just the day-to-day chores overwhelm you.

You finished getting yourself ready for work and started tackling the task of getting Abby ready for daycare. You brush Abby's hair trying to get it into a ponytail. Don't know why you go through the effort, because it's just going to fall out by midday after playing and naptime. "Mama?"

"Yes?"

"Today is school day?"

"Yes. You get to go to daycare and see Ms. Grace and all your friends."

"Mama?"

"Yes?"

"Remember the man with the pretty arm?" She tries to turn around to face you and you have to face her forward so you can get the ponytail up.

"Yes, I do."

"Me, too." You nod, knowing where this is heading already. "Mama?"

"Yes?"

"Mr S'gent don't go daycare."

"No, he doesn't. He's a grown-up. He goes to work." Finishing her hair, you carry her back to the room to put on her shoes.

"Mama?"

Rolling your eyes, "Yes?"

"I'm not a grows up."

Sitting her on the bed you kneel before her to put on her socks & shoes, "Grown-up. No. You are my baby."

"Mama?"

"Abby Rose!" Making wide eyes at her, "You are making Mama crazy." Abby laughs and pats your head.

"Mama?"

"Yesssss, Abby. What?"

She places her little hands on each of your cheeks, "Cans I go to work with yous?" She gives you the most angelic smile. You growl, picking her up & throwing her over your shoulder. She screams and giggles. "Mama!!!"

Bringing her down, to prop her on your hip, grabbing her backpack & your bag to make the trek to her daycare which luckily is only a couple blocks away. "You need to go to daycare."

"But...but...I wants to be with yous," she pouts.

"But...but...NO. You don't want to be with me. You want to see Sargent Barnes." She throws her head back and laughs with a cackle. You shake your head at her. Excuse me, Lil Miss! Who's child is this??

"Mamaaa."

"Abbyyyy." You laugh but sober up, "I'm sorry, baby, but no. You need to go to school."

"But...but...what if he forgets me."

"He will never forget you. He has your sticker. He has your drawing."

She puts her thumb in her mouth & nods her head, but she looks sad. She rests her head on your shoulder for the rest of the walk to daycare.

Next Chapter

@waywardhunter95 @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @crazyunsexycool @thezombieprostitute

[temptress-writes]

📺 Sugar

A/N: Welcome to The Tonight Show with Harry Styles. The year is 1964, and you are his assistant. He's a bit of a shit. So this is a fun one.

C.W: sexual content: kinda rough— choking, spanking, degradation, slapping, spitting, squirting.

18+ ONLY.

***

New York City, 1964.

"Red leather, yellow leather, red leather, yellow leather."

The bright lights heated him even from behind the curtain. A warmth that coasted alongside his adrenaline. He struggled to keep his body cool underneath his designer sweater, felt his feet tapping restlessly in his leather oxfords.

This was his favourite part.

The cheers, the introduction, the attention.

You ran the lint roller over his shoulders as he sipped steaming tea from a paper cup. You made sure the collar of his plaid shirt was straight as it peeked out from his red sweater.

Another sip of steaming tea, another tongue twister.

"She sells..." You coached.

He took in a deep breath, watching you as you made sure he appeared perfect, rearranging the groomed curls on his head. Your green dress stood brightly against the black of the stage, the white cuffs of it framing your wrists as you fussed over his hair.

"She sells seashells by the seashore."

"One minute till curtain!" The stage manager yelled as he breezed by. "How're you feeling, Mr. Styles?"

"Like a million bucks, Sal!"

"That's the spirit!" Sal chuckled, running towards the side of the stage, probably chasing after an intern who wasn't doing their job properly.

"Remember, you're meeting your parents for dinner after this." You reminded, ticking off the mental to-do list that was really his. It was clogging your mind but after all, it was your job.

"I haven't forgotten." He rolled his eyes. Yes, you were his assistant, but he found you controlling at times and he had little patience for women who tried to control him. He preferred to be the one in charge.

"But you'll still find a way to be late, anyway." You stepped back with a huff. He really did make your job a living hell.

"I'm taking a refreshment in my dressing room after the show."

You scrunched up your face in disgust. Refreshment. You hated that you knew it was code for a visit from a desperate groupie. You remember when he told you how he chose which girl he liked the best. You'd been watching the audience file in and he appeared behind you, chewing gum with a confident pop of his jaw.

"Let me scope it out."

"Why?"

"Like to see who's gonna join me for a post-show soirée. See those girls?" He pointed to a group of overdressed girls, all giggling and excited for the show to start. "Bingo."

"How do you know which one to pick?"

He shot you a look, clicking his tongue. "The tits, sugar. I always pick the girl with the biggest tits."

"Ugh." You rolled your eyes. "You're disgusting."

"I'm just messin'," He tilted his head. "I'm an ass man, too."

You shuddered at the recollection.

"Yes, Mr. Styles." Your voice was laced with a seething sarcasm that he raised a brow at.

He didn't seem to conceptualise that you talked that way because that's how he talked to you. He couldn't see past his blinding, misogynistic ego.

You were purely volleying it right back at him. In hindsight, it wasn't the smartest move because you really needed this job and he had a tendency to fire staff with a snap of his jeweled fingers. He'd made the past six months hard on you and he really made your blood boil.

Who knew becoming Harry Styles' assistant would be akin to babysitting a grumpy toddler?

The Tonight Show with Harry Styles.

Hilarious with guests, a major flirt, and entertaining — even when reading out news segments.

He was well-loved by everyone. For his fun fashion statements, for his guests, his charm, his whole fantasy world on his show. Worldwide, he was adored as the most entertaining and handsome talk show host.

But you knew what happened behind the scenes.

Poised and perfect on camera, but as soon as the director called cut, you had trouble convincing yourself it wasn't a joke. People of the television world had a different sort of ego and you struggled to breathe among it all. Harry hated mingling with guests before and after the show more than he had to, he hated when the crew bothered him, he hated being approached by fans for autographs because he had a headache — or whatever excuse he was offering that day.

Don't get it twisted — he loved the attention he got from being so famous. You were surprised his head wasn't bigger. The one thing he loved most about being so popular was the fact that he could have anyone on his knees for him, be between their legs, and have them at their disposal. And he treated them like that was their only use.

The charming and cheerful Harry Styles.

Purely a falsity of a man.

The crew fled from the stage as the band started playing the introduction theme music and you swept the cup from his hand. You replaced it with two certs breath mints that he chewed on routinely.

"Wish me good luck." He demanded as you gave him a once over.

You beamed. "Break a leg."

"Thanks, sugar."

"No, like trip and fall."

His smile dropped into an unamused glare. "Oh, bite me."

The music ensued, getting louder with an abundant cheer from the live crowd, the curtain preparing to lift to reveal him. You rushed off stage, your Mary Janes clicking on the floor before nodding to Sal who gave you two thumbs up.

"Filmed before a live studio audience..."

"...All the way from Holmes Chapel, Cheshire..."

Harry took a deep breath, already bathing in the adoration he garnered from simply existing.

"...Give it up for your host, the one, the only..."

You rolled your eyes as he mouthed along with the words as they were spoken.

"...Mr. Harry Styles!"

The curtain parted and he stepped forward, his hands waving to the crowd before clasping them together as he took a small bow. He blew kisses, thanking them for coming and welcoming them. He egged on the drummer of the band while the crowd cheered for him.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!"

More cheers that he absolutely cherished and bathed in, letting them fuel his ego.

"We've got a great show for you tonight, we have special guests The Everly Brothers joining us!"

Your job while Harry was doing his magic spiel on stage was to check in with him during commercial breaks, smooth his hair, offer him mints, refill his water. Also to make sure everything was perfect for him when he wrapped up. He was extremely demanding, and while you were warned of that when you first took the job, you were still so surprised just how needy he was.

He liked ham and tomato sandwiches exactly fifteen minutes before he was put into his hair and makeup chair. He liked a cup of hot tea right before air time, alongside a few tongue twisters. He went through packets of Certs breath mints faster than you thought humanly possible. He also wanted a cup of black coffee waiting for him directly after he got off stage.

He didn't like to talk to anyone on his way to his dressing room unless it was Sal congratulating him and inflaming his already huge ego. Or security telling him about a waiting groupie in his dressing room. Or you, running over his schedule or helping him memorise his script. Well, he didn't like talking to you. He more or less answered in grunts or irritated comments.

As Harry settled in for his show post the joke segment, you ran around backstage. Ordering his coffee and one for yourself because you couldn't keep up with his demands without your own shot of caffeine. You were due within minutes to refresh him during the breed.

It really was an exciting job, aside from being a woman in a man's world. You were treated as such but you were lucky enough to be given the job in the first place. At first, you were nervous around Harry. It took him a second to warm up to you.

The first time you met was when he found you in his dressing room before a show, bent over the vanity as you watered his flowers. He thought you were there for a completely different reason and had quickly started to unbuckle his belt.

"Alright, let's make this quick."

You then spotted him in the mirror and turned with a gasp. "What are you-"

And before it could have got any more awkward, before Harry could even fully unbuckle his belt, Sal stormed in with a shocked laugh.

"Oh!" His amused gaze flickered between the two of you. "Harry, I see you've met your new assistant."

"I don't need an assistant, Sal. We've been through this. Why do you think I got rid of the last one?"

"Well, of course, you do! She's just here to help you perform at your best, Styles. Try not to scare this one off."

And while he'd probably never admit it to you, you actually were very helpful to have around. Once you'd stopped being so awkward and nervous and jittery around him, you found a dynamic that worked. One where he could be a condescending male and you could be just as snappy right back to him.

Past assistants had stuck to him like a bad smell and only irritated him. You did what was expected of you. Nothing more, nothing less. You kept your little purse stocked with certs breath mints, lint rollers and kept that fact that he fucked fans in his dressing rooms after and sometimes before shows quiet.

But after all, everyone was well aware. They even congratulated him on his sexual success. Nothing grossed you out more.

Aside from Harry being a mildly misogynistic, cocky, well-dressed thorn in your side, you loved your job. You met exciting guests whom you only dreamed of meeting. Stars you had posters of in your apartment, musicians whose vinyls you span on your turntable.

In your first week on the job, you met Santo and Johnny. They'd just finished a performance of Sugar Song and they flirted with you until you were a blushing mess.

Harry had watched the interaction, grumbling about professionalism and waiting for them to leave so he could torment you about it.

"Got the hots do ya, little sugar?"

"Kiss off, Styles."

That was the most colourful thing you'd ever said to him. The shock of it raised his brows and sent a singeing pang of arousal directly to his crotch.

There was a part of Harry that wanted to hate you. Because you were a woman bossing him around and because you got on his nerves. But the more rational part of him knew he could never hate you. You were too helpful and he'd be lying if he said you weren't one of the prettiest girls he'd ever seen. And he'd seen a lot of girls.

But he knew you were disgusted by his habits, how he slept with so many people. In his own sick way, he used it to his advantage, to keep you at arm's length. That and endless comments he knew would rile you up. And boy, did he rile you up. He'd finessed the art of it.

The show ran smoothly tonight, but by no means were you any less busy. You raced around with your clipboard tucked under your arm and two cups of coffee in either hand. You sipped on yours, grateful for the kick it gave. Harry was saying his goodnight to the crowd, his cup steaming in your left hand as you rushed to meet him.

"Thank you for spending the night with me, New York!"

His classic closing catchphrase. Cheeky and risky, but it was him and he got away with everything.

Thunderous applause overpowered the sound of your heels clicking as you turned a corner, beelining towards the stage exit. You were late. He'd be off stage by now, demanding things and barking orders like the diva he was.

As if you weren't going to hear an earful from him as it was, an intern bumped into you. The crash caused your two cups of coffee to spill all down the front of your dress. You barely noticed the burn.

"Seriously?" You seethed, holding your now empty cups out in exasperation.

"I-I'm so sorry, I wasn't watching-"

"You don't say."

You could hear Harry asking where you were and you groaned, absolutely vexed. You turned in the exact opposite direction of him and back to grab more coffee. You knew he'd especially need it tonight if he was meeting with his parents.

"What happened to you?" Sal guffawed and you rolled your eyes.

"If you see Harry, tell him that his coffee is coming."

"Bit hard getting it to him when you're wearing it."

"Not funny."

A few minutes later, you held a single coffee cup. Steaming, black. You wrapped both your hands around it, holding it steady and keeping far away from anyone who could bump you. Your dress had seen better days and the stain was obvious and uncomfortably wet.

You found your way back to his dressing room, where he'd no doubt holed himself up in to freshen up. You knocked, hoping he was alone and waiting for you before continuing on with his post-show... rituals.

"Come in!" You heard from the other side and you slipped inside quickly.

"So sorry, Mr. Styles, I had an accid- oh, my god!"

You took in the scene before you. Harry. With a girl on his knees in front of him. His jeweled fingers clenching a fistful of the girl's hair as she sucked him off. His brows were turned down in the middle but his eyes... his eyes were on you. And he was enjoying it. Enjoying the girl, and enjoying you watching.

"Alright, sugar?"

"I-" You didn't know what to say, and the girl didn't stop. You didn't know if that was her doing or if Harry was holding her down. You turned, and idiotically turned back around, taking the few steps towards him, and handed him his cup of coffee. You didn't meet his eyes, like a bumbling idiot.

You left the room, but not before hearing Harry take a hefty sip of his coffee and letting out a soft moan, "Oh, that's so good."

Vexed by his antics, and the fact that he made it his mission to throw you off like that, you signed out and went home. It was as vulnerable as you'd ever seen him and you felt an odd sense of jealously wash over you. Maybe you were jealous of past you, because she hadn't witnessed it. Or maybe there was a bit of jealousy there because you wanted to be the one on your knees for him.

As delightful as the thought was for a margin of a second, you felt ill knowing you'd be another Harry Styles groupie. And it would make your job more difficult which you didn't think was even possible.

But you couldn't stop thinking about it for the rest of the night. His blissful expression, the way he directed it at you as opposed to the mouth wrapped around him. He had told you to enter his dressing room so that you could see it.

The next night, you planned on fully avoiding him and pretending the whole thing never happened. Which was hard considering, you know, you were to follow him around and listen to his demands. And especially hard because you just wished he'd command you onto your knees already.

Sure, you found him extremely attractive — everyone did. You may have even had a little crush when you first met him. But then you got to know him, and his habits and his ways. Last night grossed you out just as much as it turned you on. You felt so thrown off and now you weren't sure how to act around him.

You arrived at the studio not too long before showtime, Harry's cup of tea in hand. You were a little bit late today but you figured he could survive fifteen minutes without you. He was in hair and wardrobe, getting his curls perfected and his forehead powered.

He sat in the chair with his legs spread, a pair of black dress pants and a white singlet, his inked arms on display. You focused on staying professional and met his eyes for a brief moment as you greeted him and handed him his cup of tea. No milk, and don't be shy with the honey, he'd told you when you first started.

His eyes scanned your attire, a pink dress with long sleeves but a shorter hem than usual, he noticed. He didn't hate having to look at your legs, your plump thighs, and the intrigue of what was between them ran rampant in his thoughts.

You had a soft yellow ribbon in your hair, keeping it swept away from your face in a high ponytail. He clenched his jaw, wishing it was his hand fisting your hair. He'd tie your hands up with the ribbon so you'd have to behave for him.

"Thanks. Dig pink on ya." He took a sip, his eyes full with mischief as he watched you over the rim of his cup. "Enjoy the show last night?"

You knew he was referring to you seeing him get blown by some random groupie so you ignored him, looking at your clipboard. "So Sal wants to see you in five, and we're reconfiguring some set pieces before airtime. So be on stage straight after you've seen him, okay?"

The hairstylist finished up, and you were left alone with him in the room. You were a lot stiffer tonight, more reserved than usual and he picked up on it right away. You raised a brow, wondering if he'd heard a single word you said.

He smirked. "Why did you come in last night? You know I have post-show celebrations in my dressing room."

"I was bringing you coffee! You told me to come in!" This man was exasperating. He knew that he'd asked you for coffee and told you to enter his dressing room after you'd knocked. He wanted you to see and now he was just winding you up.

He raised a brow. "Did I?"

"Five minutes." You reaffirmed. You tried to hide the way that his tone crept down your spine in slow, hot trickles.

He sat up in the chair, his hand reaching to cup the back of your lower thigh. You stopped breathing at the sudden touch and he pulled you towards him. His gaze was searing on yours, his eyes wondering and daring.

"You wanted to stay, didn't you? Watch me get my dick sucked while I watched you."

"No, I didn't." You whispered, letting him pull you forward until you were standing between his spread legs.

"No?"

"No." Even you weren't convinced by your answer.

"Hmm... you wanted to be the one on your knees for me. Is that it?"

You took a deep, shaky breath. His question fired something off in your brain. A realisation perhaps. You did want to be on your knees for him, being the reason for his pleasure, be at his command, make him feel good, make him fucking fall apart because of you.

"So pretty in this tiny fuckin' dress." He cooed. His hand came up, cupping your cheek. Your eyeshadow was a pretty soft blue and he adored it. His fingers trailed down, tracing your lower lip. "You'd look so perfect with my cock in your mouth."

You couldn't even suppress the whimper that ensued. Did you thank him? Slap him? Get on your knees and prove his point?

He didn't seem fazed by the fact that you weren't saying much. You were responding to him in other ways. Leaning right into him with your eyes lulled, your hands resting on his broad shoulders. Your chest heaving beneath that fucking pink dress. You were driving him crazy with how badly he wanted you.

The night before had been his own sick little test. Either, you'd be game, or you'd pull away from him completely. Regardless, he'd know where you stood and accept all that accompanied him. He knew how fucked up it was but you really seemed to enjoy the game.

His other hand squeezed the back of your thigh, inching higher. "What colour are your panties?"

You gasped at the question, so turned on by him and how bold he was. It used to scare you, but now being on the receiving end was a completely different ballpark.

"Blue." You breathed out.

"What shade of blue?" He pressed on. "Like your eyeshadow?"

You twisted your lips in thought. "Do you want to see?"

Harry released a shocked laugh, but his mind was fucking reeling. Did you really just ask if he wanted to see your panties?

"A peek couldn't hurt."

He gripped your hips and lifted you up onto the vanity behind you. You were shocked that he could lift you so effortlessly and smoothly. You crossed your legs, more to tease him than anything else. Your expression was sultry, and he felt lightheaded at the sight of you. Slowly, you unfolded your legs but didn't open them.

"Don't be shy, sugar. Show me and I'll make it up to you."

You let out a slow exhale, mustering up all of your courage. You were shaking, but it wasn't nerves. He had you so worked up and he had barely done anything. He'd riled you up and talked to you, and you were already fucking saturated.

Your legs parted, feet resting on either side of his thighs on the chair. Harry's eyes stayed on yours, his hands reaching to slide up your thighs, pushing the hem of your pink press up so he could get a good view of you, finally looking down.

And what a fucking view it was. Your thighs were soft, and he let his hands squeeze at them. Sky blue lace covered the area he'd been dreaming about for six months. He let out a soft groan and let his fingertip brush over the skin where your abdomen met the panties.

"Lace? Did you wear these for me?"

"I had you in mind."

"Naughty girl." He smirked, shuffling forward. His thumb brushed over your clothed clit and you let out a whimper, biting your lip to quell anything louder than might to escape. "Can I taste you? Please? Been wantin' to for months."

You nodded, your mouth dry. You'd let this man do anything to you, and hearing him tell you he'd been wanting this for months left you in a frenzy.

"Words, sugar. Let's hear 'em."

"Please," You whispered. "taste me."

"Good girl, that's it." He pulled your panties to the side, desperate to see you and taste you. You were glistening, so wet and plump for him. He sighed, running his thumb along your clit before venturing between your folds to feel how wet you were. Your thighs jolted as he slipped his thumb to collect your excitement and spread it up to your clit.

"Why are you so wet, hm?" He wondered aloud, his eyes meeting yours again.

"Because of you, Harry."

"Me?" Cocky little shit.

"Mm."

"Are you always this wet for me, sugar?"

You hesitated, not sure if you wanted to give him this. He would never forget it, probably remind you that he knew every day. Probably slip his hand up your dress just to appease his own curiosity.

"Only when you're nice to me."

"But you like me mean, don't you?"

"You're an asshole."

"Gets you wet, though."

Abruptly, as if impatient, he lowered his head and attached his mouth to your clit. The scorching heat of it was intense, and you grabbed a fistful of his freshly tamed curls to hold him to you.

His tongue ran over your entirety. From your entrance right back up to your clit, tasting you fully as his mouth closed around the sensitive bundle of nerves. You threw your head back, rolling your cunt towards his face as he softly ate you with a passion that had you shaking.

Before anything more could occur, Sal knocked on the door, demanding that Harry meet with him. He knew better than to enter any room that was hidden behind a closed door when it came to Harry. But if he'd known it was you behind that door with him, that would be another issue entirely.

You shot up, pushing him out of the way and righting your dress. You were tingling and you could still feel his tongue between your legs. His eyes were dark as he watched you from his seat, amused by your fumbling.

"Go before Sal comes back." You were flustered, your body felt electric and all he'd given you was his mouth for what — ten seconds?

He was too relaxed, and it only pissed you off further. He stood, sauntering towards you to press you against the vanity. His hand cupped your jaw, his rings kissing your skin.

"Funny that you're making demands when I'm the boss."

You breathed heavily, unsure of how to reply so you just held eye contact with him. Your lips parted as his head tilted, inching closer. His hand loosened, melting to your cheek so he could rub it with his thumb.

"Who's in charge, hm?"

"You are."

"That's right." He crooned, his lips brushing yours. "And who's gonna give you his cock later?"

The air was stripped from your lungs, the depth behind his question clear. Would you submit to him? Venture into this connection you had with him? You got on each other's nerves but fuck if there wasn't the most incredible sexual tension between you.

"You are, Harry."

He hummed, gripping your hand and bringing it down to cup his cock. He was hard, and pulsed in your hand when you gave him a squeeze. You just about crumbled when he moaned, his eyes lulling as you did it again. Harder.

"There's my good girl."

Sal knocked again, clearly impatient tonight. Harry smirked and could feel his lips curl against yours before he pulled away. He left the room with a confident strut while you were left shaking. You took a second to catch your breath, willing the arousal between your legs to simmer down before heading back out towards the stage.

You grabbed your purse and kept busy doing your job while Harry caught up with Sal. He was doted over, like always, and Sal told him how his viewings were skyrocketing. After he'd finished up his tasks on stage, he was whisked back to wardrobe so he could be styled.

Because Harry was busy chatting with tonight's guest and getting ready, all you had to do was wait for him to come to you. You peeked through the curtains at the set. The audience was being brought in and you were watching the seats fill from the side of the stage.

A piercing whistle sounded out from behind you and you twirled on the spot. He looked phenomenal. His suit was a sky blue, not too dissimilar to the shade of your panties. His shirt was a crisp white, his chain peeking through where it was unbuttoned, sat between his pecs and the light dusting of hair.

His eyes looked greener when he was dressed in blue, his lips more raspberry. He approached you and your eyes flew down to his shiny black oxfords.

"Whaddya think huh?" He spun on his heels, showing off. "Matchin'."

"Blue suits you."

"Suits you, too." Harry winked, standing close to you before nodding towards the audience. "How's it looking out there?"

Was he... trying to make casual conversation? After his face was between your thighs and all the talk that proceeded it? "Full house, like always. Did you... was that on purpose?"

"What?"

"The blue suit."

"Why else would I ask what colour your panties were, hm?"

"Because you're nosy."

"You know... every time you insult me, I get hard."

"Good thing I have plenty of them, then."

"Come on," He pressed you tight against the wall. "Gimme another one."

"Prick."

He chuckled, amused by how freely you were cursing. "That all you got?"

"You're the cockiest son a bitch I've ever met." You breathed out. His hands pressed to the wall on either side of your head, caging you in.

"Alright." He was crowding your space, the spicy-sweet vanilla of his cologne clouding your senses. He checked to see if anyone was around before clicking his tongue. "Take your panties off."

"What?" You were well aware that any crew member could walk by, and you weren't about to be caught slipping your panties down your legs.

"You heard me. Just lemme hold onto 'em until the show's over."

"Are you bent? I'm not giving you my panties. I need them and someone could walk by at any moment."

"Mellow out, no one's gonna see."

You deliberated in your head, genuinely considering it. His head tilted to the side, gauging your thoughts. This was so... exhilarating. Exciting. You were so out of it for him, and glad that you finally both agreed on something. You were both attracted to each other physically and that was about it.

Fuck it. Your hands reached beneath your dress, and Harry took a step back to give you room, keeping a lookout. You stepped out of those pretty little panties and held them out to him on your index finger. He snatched them up, eyeing how delicate they looked in his hand.

"Far out." He laughed, in shock that you actually did it.

You were a bundle of surprises tonight. He was throwing stuff at you that was pretty out there and you were throwing it right back. Sweet little sugar had a little more spice than he had anticipated.

"Cheers, sugar." He twirled them around on his finger and you slapped his shoulder.

"Don't just wave them around!" You hissed, looking around to make sure no one had seen the whole interaction.

Harry shoved them in his pants pocket and you smoothed out the bump they left, always a perfectionist. The guest of the night turned the corner and almost bumped into the two of you. You jumped apart, letting Harry chat to the guest on his own. He rarely enjoyed it and you looked back to see the subtle hints of irritation on his face. You knew he'd flash that charming smile and those adorable dimples as soon as the cameras came on.

With only a few minutes until the show was due to start, you bumbled around and made sure everything was perfect for him. You were very aware of the fact that you didn't have your panties on, and with your dress being shorter than usual, you had to be careful.

Sal breezed past you, beelining towards Harry and the guest with a huge grin. He greeted them loudly and you did your part by waiting to the side for further instruction. The guest was led to their spot for showtime, one of the stage managers with them to keep them entertained and to give their cues. Harry shook Sal's hand, hearing Sal's usual encouraging words before making his way towards you.

"Feeling okay?" You checked in, handing him a couple of Certs breath mints. You walked side by side towards center stage, and he wasn't shy about his stare on you. It felt different — the air around you. Usually filled with annoyance, was something else. Hotter, dreamier, sensual.

"Snazzy." He nodded, chucking the mints into his mouth. "Little foreplay always gets me goin'."

You huffed out a breath at his response, resisting the urge to retort something cheeky as the stagehand came to run through the show one more time. You righted his outfit, his eyes not leaving you as you made sure he looked smooth and perfect.

As the stagehand left, you grabbed your round brush from your purse and went over his curls. You began adding a little volume while he hummed and oohed and aahed to exercise and prepare his voice.

"You know New York..." You guided.

"You know New York, you need New York, you know you need unique New York."

"Again."

He sighed, closing his eyes so he could focus. "You know New York, you need New York, you know you need unique New York."

"Lesser leather..." You hinted at another tongue twister. You ran the lint roller across the lapels of his suit jacket and over his shoulders, catching his eyes and not missing the glint in them. "...never weathered..."

"It's funny," He smirked. "you're a tongue twister master right now, but you won't be able to say your own name by the time I'm done with you later."

"Oh my-"

"Yeah, I'm gonna fuckin' ruin you."

"One minute till curtain, everyone!" Sal's voice boomed. "Look alive, look alive!"

The crowd was roaring with applause as the show began, but all you could hear was your pulse in your ears as your heart thudded in your chest. Harry, who usually thrived off of the cheers, was only focused on you. On your sweet voice asking if he wanted to see your panties, on your feisty insults.

"Filmed before a live studio audience..."

You called him a cocky son of a bitch and all he could think about was bending you over his knee and seeing how much shit you talked while his hand was marking your ass with its imprint.

Everyone fled the stage, but you were stood completely still in front of him. Frozen.

"Harry..."

His lips brushed yours again and your ears started ringing.

"...All the way from Holmes Chapel, Cheshire..."

"Look at you," He crooned. "Runnin' round with no panties with that pretty ribbon in your hair. Dirty little thing, aren't you, sugar?"

You could feel how slick you were between your thighs and your eyes fluttered as his hand ventured beneath your skirt from behind, cupping your ass cheek with a strong hand before venturing further. His fingertips found your cunt and you almost collapsed against him.

He hummed lowly, rumbling in his chest. He pulled his hand away, very aware that the curtain was close to pulling up. He held his index and middle fingers in front of you, glistening with your arousal, and ran them along your lower lip.

You didn't even hesitate to suck his fingers into your mouth, not losing eye contact. Harry's brows turned down, his mouth dropping as he drawled out a slow fuuuck. And then he kissed you. It was messy and wet and quick. His lips were so soft against your own before he sucked deftly on your tongue, tasting you and your cunt at the same time.

"...Give it up for your host, the one, the only..."

"Fuck, can we cancel the show?" He growled, holding you to him with a grip on the nape of your neck.

"N-No. I have to go."

"...Mr. Harry Styles!"

You fled from the stage, walking backwards, not wanting to take your eyes off him. His expression was one of longing, his eyes not leaving you either. The curtain lifted, igniting him in the warmth of the stage lighting and the eruption of cheers.

He turned and faced the crowd, waving and blowing kisses. His smile was dazzling, and his blue suit was celestial under the bright glow. He was wrapped in success and adoration. You could see it radiating off him as he found centre stage and bowed.

"Good evening, New York!" He waited for applaud to finish. "How are we?"

You rounded the backstage area, checking in with crew and chatting to the guest.

"Can I just say..." Harry continued, clasping his hands together. "you look ravishing tonight, New York." More praise from the audience. "It's true, you do."

You rolled your eyes at the excited yells and cheers from the crowd. You watched him in a totally new light tonight. He was on a level that no one could reach. He was born to be on stage, to entertain.

He introduced the guest and brought them onstage, talking about their upcoming music and chatting them up. During the commercial breaks you checked in with the guest, and made sure Harry's appearance was on point.

His eyes were on you the whole time, and you could see him fighting the urge to make some kind of questionable comment. His eyes veered south and stayed on where the hem of your dress brushed your thighs.

"Need anything else?" You asked him politely, aware of the audiences stare on your back.

"I won't need coffee tonight." He educated softly and you nodded.

"We're back in fifteen seconds." The cameraman alerted and you gathered your things and went to leave. The guest was busy fixing their hair with the stylist. Harry's hand on your wrist stopped you, pulling you back.

"Actually, there is one more thing." He back peddled, and you raised an expectant brow, leaning in close to hear him. "Stay right over there, okay? Wanna be able to see you."

He pointed to a spot off stage, where only guests and select members of crew like Sal or the director were allowed to stand during air time. And he wanted you there. So he could look over and see you and know you were watching.

"I- Yeah, okay."

You rushed off stage, standing exactly where he told you to. He watched you right until the advertisement break ended.

"And we're back in three... two... one..."

His eyes switched back to the camera, his expression slipping into the charm that came so naturally to him once he was live on air.

He was a star. Delightful and eccentric and unapologetic.

He exchanged more jokes with the guest, who as an up and coming musician, was gearing up for their performance. You stayed to watch the show exactly where Harry wanted you, and you were pleased that you didn't get any slack from Sal. You rarely got to actually enjoy the show like this, and in a way, it felt like Harry had done you a favour.

His eyes often flicked to you after he'd told a joke or said something cheeky. Like he was directed it at you, or maybe he was checking to see if you found him as funny as the crowd did. When you didn't laugh as hard as he thought the joke deserved, he'd try extra hard to get you to laugh at the following one.

It was odd that he was trying to seek validation from you when he had millions at his feet.

As the show wrapped up, you couldn't have applauded him louder. You were proud, you felt giddy and bubbly inside. He was born for this, there was no denying it.

And then there was the realisation of what was to come once the show had finished. You became nervous. And insanely wet. The anticipation rattled yet excited you and you weren't sure what to make of it.

You rounded towards his exit, a crowd of crew and groupies waiting for him. He came to you first, as you were closest. He shot polite smiles to everyone but his attention was on you.

"How'd I do?"

"Phenomenal."

"Did you like my jokes?"

You side-eyed a few people waiting for a shred of his attention and felt the need to rush this interaction between you along. You didn't want to raise suspicions and you also didn't want to take away any attention he could be giving to these people who were clearly waiting for him.

"My tummy laughs from hurting so much." You whispered. His grin was contagious, dimples and his bunny teeth on full display. His eyes were warm as he stared down at you.

"Really?"

"Mhm."

A throat cleared behind you and Harry looked up to shoot them a reassuring wink and then looked back at you. "Wait for me in my dressing room."

It was an order, even with the softness in his tone. You licked your lips, not missing when his eyes caught it. You backed away, slowly pulling your ribbon out of your hair. His jaw clenched as your hair fell free.

"Yes, Mr. Styles. Right away."

His dressing room felt alien to you as you slipped inside, a familiar place with such a different atmosphere now. How quickly the dynamic had changed between you was dizzying. You always knew you were attracted to him, but you never thought you'd act on it.

And you certainly never thought he'd have his mouth on your cunt minutes before a show.

How long were you meant to wait? You checked your appearance in the mirror, your cheeks flushed with excitement. Your dress was pristine, as was your makeup and you wondered how long that would last.

You were riffling through Harry's pile of books when he came in. Your spine straightened, every nerve tingling. He closed the door behind him, leaning back against it.

His gaze was one that had you clenching your thighs together. An intimidating hunger, a deep lust. His eyes were dark, void of the bright glint they usually offered. He didn't say anything and that only made the tension thicker.

And then he locked the door with a click.

He took one single step towards you and you inhaled a sharp breath at the slow, torturous pace of it. Like he was taunting and teasing you. He shoved one hand in his pocket, the other reaching up. He gripped his lower lip between his thumb and index finger, his eyes finding your feet in your Mary Janes and trailing up your legs.

He was slow with that as well as if to keep you on your toes. He had always been so rushed and spontaneous with a lot of what he did. But this.... this he'd been thinking about for a long time. He'd had months to plan this through.

Plan how he was going to play with you, make you beg for him, make you feel good.

He really enjoyed the secrecy of it. And all that would come after. He liked the idea of meeting your eyes at work, both of you exchanging knowing looks because you both knew what it took to pleasure each other.

Fuck. His sex life wasn't complicated. He fucked fans because the likelihood of seeing them ever again was slim. But you were close to home, dangerously so. He saw you all the time. And somehow that just made him want you even more.

He produced your panties from his pocket and came to stand in front of you.

"Now," He began, lowering his head to meet your eyes. "are you going to need help keeping quiet?"

He fucking knew he'd have you screaming for him. He was just being precautious, knowing that on the other side of the door, the studio was littered with crew members.

You shook your head. "No."

"Are you sure?"

"I don't think you're that good."

He rolled his tongue along the inside of his cheek, huffing out a humourless laugh before pocketing your panties again. You were so snappy and cheeky with him and he'd be lying if he said it didn't make his dick so fucking hard in his pants. You were winding him up. Trying to poke at him and provoke him. Well, it was fucking working.

"Oh, you don't think so?"

"I think that's why your ego's as big as it is. Because you can't fuck."

He did what he wanted to do earlier that day; he grabbed your hair in his fist. You gasped through a surprised smile, and he brought you close until you were pressed against him.

"What did I tell you?" His voice was low, thick with arousal. You'd never heard his voice that deep and you felt it between your legs. "Hm?"

"That you won't need coffee tonight?"

He gripped your hair harder and his cock throbbed when you smiled.

"I told you," His eyes were burning. "that I'm going to ruin you."

The way he pronounced every word was electrifying. As if he was really trying to get his message across. How was this the same man that had asked if you laughed at his jokes after his show?

You flicked your tongue against his lower lip. "Do your worst."

His kiss was far harsher this time. Still just as messy, and you figured that was just how he liked it. He wasn't shy about it. He used his teeth, nibbling on your lower lip, biting on your tongue. He used his free hand to fist your dress at the small of your back.

You were pressed tight against him and fuck, he was so hard for you. Even through his pants, you were impressed with his size. You wanted to feel more, experience him fully. You didn't have all the time in the world, locked away in his dressing room. You were both painfully aware.

He pushed you back, landing you in the chair next to the vanity. He stripped off his suit jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves. You watched as he pushed your dress out of the way, clearly annoyed that the fabric was disrupting him from his goal. Your center was still so wet for him and he couldn't even suppress the low grown at the sight.

"Pretty little pussy," He gripped your inner thighs, holding them apart. "still so fucking drenched for me. You enjoyed watching me onstage tonight, didn't you? Hearing everyone fawn over me but you know you're the one I want."

"I want you, too. So bad, please fuck me." You whined, your hips rocking up restlessly.

"I wanna have a play first."

"Fuck, please just-"

He spat directly between your legs, coating your pussy in his spit. His eyes flickered up to the clock on the wall before he attached his mouth to you with a deep moan. He licked along your entrance and then right up to the sensitive bundle of nerves, fully tasting you again.

He dipped his tongue inside you, fucking you with it before pulling away with a pop and sucking your clit back into his mouth. He trapped it between his teeth and flicked and twirled delicious patterns against it that had your muscles clenching.

He ate you as if he enjoyed it more than you did. He targeted your clit perfectly, able to read your body and its responses so well.

He held eye contact while had his mouth on your cunt, burying his face against you like he couldn't get close enough. Your legs shook on either side of his head, and he kept them spread with his wide hands. You could feel how cold his rings were against your skin.

Your hands reached down, tangling themselves into his curls. You held him against you, his mouth so scorching on you that you felt lightheaded with the tingling heat.

He pulled away momentarily, slipping his index and middle finger in his mouth, all the way until he drew back so teeth were peeling off his rings. He grabbed your hand, taking two of your fingers one by one and replacing the rings on them. They were huge on you but you admired how his jewelry looked on you, the ones he wore while he was on air. Glistening and extravagant.

Now he'd removed them so he could feel you properly.

Deciding that you were wet enough, he ran the pads of his fingers along your entrance. They veered up, circling your clit slowly before heading south again. You cried out softly as his fingers slipped inside you. It was an exquisite sensation and you stared down at him in wonder, mouth agape as you moaned out.

He curled them up, your spine melting as they pressed against a spot inside of you that had before now never been discovered. It was a blinding pressure, tight and full and so fucking good.

Harry smirked at the apparent shock on your face before he moved his fingers, curling them against your g-spot. As he found a rhythm, he brought his mouth back to your clit.

You arched your back, gasping for air as he worked you. He pumped his fingers hard, bringing you higher and higher to an elevation you'd never known. His mouth left your clit and before you could complain at the loss, he was spitting on it once more before giving it a mild slap with his free hand.

You screamed out, not expecting the harshness to feel that enticing. You were being far too loud for him to continue this comfortably. He didn't want anyone to interrupt and moreover, he didn't want you to get in trouble. He wanted to make you come over and over without a care in the world.

The same hand that slapped you retrieved your panties from his pocket before he shoved the lace into your mouth.

If you weren't so blissed out, you may have even be shocked by it. But at that moment, it was so hot and dirty. You trusted him to know best and look after you.

His fingers pulsed against your g-spot and you felt an intensity building in your abdomen and you rolled your hips towards his face. His mouth was relentless on your clit, desperate to get you zoned out with pleasure.

Your walls clenched and ballooned around his fingers and he pulled away, his eyes on you. They were full of lust and hunger, piercing right through you.

"Eyes on me sugar, don't look away." He wanted to watch you. To stare into your eyes, to see your orgasm shatter you.

He pumped his fingers, his pace blinding. He knew exactly what he was doing, knew exactly what to do to get you there. He grunted with the exertion, the tendons in his arm flexing and bulging with how hard he worked you.

And then he smirked, almost pleased with himself. "Have you ever squirted before?"

With your mouth full of lace, you weren't able to verbally answer. You shook your head and he thought the confused frown on your face was fucking adorable.

Before you could even think about what he was asking, the most euphoric explosion of bliss rocked through you. You cried out into the lace, your entire body shaking as you came harder than you ever had before. It was fucking annihilating. You did as you were told, your eyes not leaving his. It was hard, of course. You wanted to shut your eyes and bask in the hot sensation that was taking over every nerve in your body.

But he wanted to watch you. And he wanted you to see the burst of fluid that erupted from your cunt, past his fingers. "Thaaat's it. Good fucking girl, come all over my fingers. Just like that."

You writhed in the chair, grateful for his grip on you. You didn't stop shaking, tremors of pleasure rocking you. He helped you as you came down, your chest heaving and your body trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. You didn't think it was possible for you to come that way, and you could feel yourself becoming addicted to him.

Harry stood, his hand running up and down your thighs, squeezing them. He removed your panties from your mouth, leaning down to kiss you deeply. You blushed as you tasted yourself on his tongue and curiously ran a hand between your legs to feel the aftermath of your orgasm.

He watched, thinking it was so hot to see your fingers venture between your folds and along your dripping thighs.

"Feel nice?" He hummed, chuckling at your curious expression.

"So nice, I've never... I didn't think I could do that."

"You got me all wet, messy girl." He smiled, kissing you again.

He stood and helped you out of your dress, peeling off your bra so he could play with your tits. He sucked and bit at your nipples, feeling the fullness of your breasts in his palm.

"You're delicious all over, sugar." He admired your fully naked body. "Can't wait to feel you properly. See what that tight little cunt feels like around my cock."

He palmed himself as he spoke, so desperate to feel you. His expression was one of lustful longing, and you could feel it resonate between your legs as if you hadn't just had an earth-shattering climax.

"Take your clothes off." You whined, going to sit up and pouting when he stopped you.

He started to unbutton his shirt, revealing the white singlet underneath. "Stay just like that. Wanna give you my cock while you're sitting in my chair."

The chair where he sat before every show. Reciting jokes in the mirror while his hair was fussed over. The vanity where he'd first seen you, bent over it watering his flowers.

He got rid of his shirt, clearly impatient. He peeled off the white singlet too and you could have drooled at the sight of him. His broad torso and shoulders, his toned tummy, his strong pecs. The ink decorating him. Fuck, you probably did drool.

He caught the leg of the chair on his foot and dragged you closer, undoing his pants at the same time. You shifted forward, your hand reaching out to boldly cup his cock. He groaned, lulling his head back on his neck. His hand came over yours and urged you to squeeze him harder.

"You're so hard." You mewled, humming as he watched you feel him. His jaw dropped as you moved your hand expertly.

"I've been hard for you all night."

He was hyper-aware of the position you were both in and that you were on limited time. The studio was due to lock up soon, left only to after-hours security and the cleaners.

You leaned closer, pulling his pants down with his help. You ran your lips along his length over his briefs, letting your tongue flick out. He could feel the heat of your mouth seep through the material and he was losing his mind over the fact that only his briefs separated your mouth from his cock.

You peered up at him through your lashes, grabbing the band of his underwear to pull them down. You'd always been so reserved and controlled but the look on your face when you finally saw his cock had him fucking spiraling. Intimidation, thirst, determination.

With his pants and briefs pooled at his ankles, he guided you to take a hold of him. You obeyed, wanting to please him just as much as he pleased you. You pumped him slowly in your hand, loving how he felt in your fist.

"Your cock is so..."

Harry laughed, cupping your cheek and staring down at you expectantly. "What?"

"Pretty." It wasn't the word you were going for, but it wasn't the wrong word, either. He had a gorgeous cock, so thick and long. It was silky and hot and pulsed in your hand. You were impressed and intrigued.

"Pretty?" His voice was so soft as he regarded you.

"Yeah."

Pretty. He could deal with pretty. His thumb trailed across your lips. "Mm, and how's it taste?"

You pulled away marginally, grabbing his free hand and urging him to grab your hair in his tight first once more. You laid out your tongue and licked the tip of his dick, glistening with precum. You hummed at his taste and took him deeper, using your hand to spread your spit down his shaft.

Harry moaned deeply, taking a solid step forward so that you took more of him past your lips.

"Swallow me."

"Make me."

He narrowed his eyes at you, watching as you opened wide and held still, waiting for him to make you take it. With his hold on your hair, he guided you to swallow his cock. You were able to take about half, your hand working what you couldn't yet fit.

But he was helping you, not pushing you too far but doing it inch by inch. Your eyes began to water and you gagged when he pushed in deep. Your other hand was pressed against his thigh to keep yourself steady.

"Good girl." He praised, his voice low. "Take my cock so fucking well, don't you?"

He couldn't wrap his head around what was happening. He'd imagined this day far too many times to count, and it was always blurred by the unpleasant dynamic you two shared. But here you were, sucking him off after he'd made you explode around his fingers.

You loved having him down your throat. You enjoyed the challenge. He was so big and when you were able to take all of him, it was a feeling of satisfaction. He held you down until you were choking and your nose was buried in the hair around the base of his cock.

He wiped a tiny bit of smudged mascara from under your eye, admiring the blue of your eyeshadow and the colour of your lips as they wrapped around his cock. Fuck, he needed to be inside you. He was desperate for it.

He slipped you back onto the chair, angling you so that you were open to him. It happened so quickly and your mind was reeling at the sudden change. He was in full control and had no issue putting you where he wanted you. And you trusted him. He was so arrogant and you wanted to see if his bite was just as harsh as his bite. Considering the wet mess you'd made, it definitely was.

"Fuck, can't wait to feel you properly." He sighed, grabbing his cock at the base and running his tip between your legs.

Your gripped his arms, absentmindedly smoothing your fingers over some of his tattoos. "Beg me."

"What?" He raised a brow, his tone perplexed.

"Beg me to let you fuck me. You're an asshole, tell me you're sorry and beg me. Then I'll let you fuck me."

You didn't miss the way his cock throbbed when you called him an asshole, the flex in his jaw as he took in your words. Beg? Apologise?

He scoffed. "That's cute. As if you don't get so fucking wet when I'm an asshole to you. Just like how hard I get when you call me shit like that with that filthy mouth of yours."

You rolled your hips up, gripping his hip to pull him closer to you. "Please, baby. I wanna hear you beg."

The very tip of him slipped inside of you and you both moaned at the sensation. You were so wet and tight and he knew he could step forward and be inside you fully. But the expectant look you were giving him stopped him.

He gripped your throat, leaning down so he could bend over you. He gritted his teeth, his eyes hard on yours. "Please let me fuck you, sugar. Get you gushing on my cock over and over, fuckin' drown in your wet little pussy."

"Are you going to be nice?"

"But it's better when I'm mean." He crooned. "I'll make you take my cock, fuck you so hard, and won't stop until you cry."

Your eyes fluttered as he inched forward a little, sliding himself in further. The head of his cock was so snug inside of you and the way he stretched you had your toes curling. You brought your legs higher, hitching them up to his sides.

"Please," You mewled.

"Tell me, sugar." He needed to hear you say it. "Tell me you want me to fuck this dreamy cunt."

"Fuck me, Harry. Please."

"Hard?"

"Hard."

His hand tightened around your throat as he rolled his hips forward. He stretched you, so fucking big that he had to take his time to push past your tightness. His gaze narrowed as he pressed in tight, his hips flush against you. As he became fully buried inside of you, your vision tunneled on him and him only. On how good he felt, how his eyes were trained on yours.

He'd thought about what you'd look like stuffed full of his cock but he could never have imagined you being this perfect. Whimpering and moaning so fucking sweet while his hand was wrapped around your throat.

"Please move." You begged, feeling so overwhelmed with him being so thick inside of you but not moving.

He slowly retracted his hips, your pussy trembling to keep him there. He slowly pushed his hips forward again, groaning lowly as you clenched around him. He started out slow as first, wanting to ease you into it, his hands holding onto your sides. But you were desperate.

"You call that hard, baby?"

He shook his head, smiling at the bite in your tone. "You sure you can handle it?"

"What did I tell you about that ego of yours-"

He growled, seeing that you were toying with him again. He didn't want you to have the upper hand. So he started fucking you. Hard and relentless and strong. You cried out at his strength, his cock pumping against your g-spot so perfectly.

"Fuck yes, take my cock. Good fucking girl."

It was electrical. You were saturated from your orgasm he'd given you, he hit so deep, pushing against your front wall. He gripped your breasts, admiring as they bounced while he fucked you. He spat on them, unashamed in his desires to be so fucking dirty with you.

"Love your tits." He grunted. "Let me fuck them one day, sugar. Wanna see them fuckin' dripping in my cum."

"Yes, take whatever you want." You gasped.

You'd let him. He was cheeky and an asshole but he fucked you far better than anyone else ever could and he was just getting started. And you could find ways to keep his mouth busy when it started spouting nonsense.

"Yeah?" He hung over you, his curls dangling down. "Will you let me have you again, hm? Let me fuck your throat, your tight cunt, fuck- make you my plaything?"

"I want to be your plaything." You sighed, his necklace swinging in your face, glistening silver.

"You do, don't you? I'll have this pussy on my tongue while I memorise my script. Carry your panties around in my pocket and give them back to you when you've earned them."

The pressure was blinding and he brought your legs up over his shoulders so he could take you even harder. The legs of the chair scraped obnoxiously against the ground as he fucked you into it. He was brutal, making you take his cock with each harsh thrust.

You cried out, sobbing his name. He was so deep and you knew you'd be feeling him for days after. He picked you up, sitting you on the vanity. You leaned back against the mirror, icy against your back. He hauled your hips towards him, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He took his cock in his hand and fisted your hair with the other, holding you still so he could slide inside of you again. You clenched around him mercilessly, and he had to flex his hips harder so he could take you properly.

The vanity jolted on its legs under the force of him. Your hand wraps around his neck, trying to stabilise yourself against the onslaught of his thrusts.

"Call me an asshole again."

"Harry-" You jolted underneath him. "Fuck, you're an asshole."

"Yeah? Wanna hit me?"

"W-What?"

"Fucking do it. Slap me like I know you've been wanting to for the past six months."

Your hands clutched at his curls. Hitting him was the last thing on your mind right now while he was inside you. Until he'd brought it up, that is. You'd wanted to slap him on a daily basis and you wondered if he'd been reading your mind.

Mustering up courage enough to do so, you raised your hand and slapped his cheek. Not as hard as you could have, but the groan he emitted told you that you weren't gentle, either.

"So good." He grinned, his cheek reddening from your hand. You gripped his jaw harshly, licking your handprint before kissing him.

Your kisses moved to his neck and he tilted his head to give you more access to the skin. He flicked his eyes to his reflection in the mirror, finding his lustful expression, his cheek red, His eyes were alight with danger and arousal, driving his hips into you as he stared at himself. You moaned loudly as he pounded into you, unrelenting. Wanting you so out of it so that you could never look at him the same way again.

He imagined you looking at him during rehearsals, looking down at your Mary Janes with flushed cheeks. Your soft cadence as you asked him when he would fuck you next. Your surprised gasp when he'd pull you into a supply closet to fuck you hard and quick before anyone noticed your absence.

Just as you grew accustomed to the position, he flipped you, brushes and hair products flying off the top as you found balance on it. Your eyes met his in the mirror and they blazed through yours as he pushed himself into your warmth again.

"Fuck," He hissed, throwing his head back as you gripped him tightly. He held onto your shoulder and fucked you, near on slamming you into the furniture. His hand crept up to cup your throat, the other doing the same as he found a rhythm.

"Right there, don't stop." You gasped.

"Gonna think of this every time I'm in this room." He grunted. "Sit in that chair before a show and think about your perfect cunt around me. How you smile when I wrap my hands around your throat, how much you love having my cock to choke on."

"I want you to fuck me on this vanity every day, Harry."

"Every day, Sugar." He was breathless. "So much I wanna do to you. Play with you, make your pussy cream for me. Fuck, how did we go so long without this?"

He started using his height to his advantage, screwing down into you. You struggled to grasp clarity, your senses clouding as pleasure took over. His hands tightened around your throat and he took you harder when a ghost of a smile touched your lips.

He slipped two of his fingers in your mouth, hooking them into your cheek and pulling. He hissed at how fucking submissive you were and how you were willing to be just as dirty as him.

Letting go of your neck entirely, one hand moved to your hip and the other to your hair. He pulled you up, forcing you to look into the mirror.

"I'm an asshole but I fuck you good, don't I?"

You wanted to slap the smirk off his face. He could sense your annoyance at how cocky he was. He took you harder and you eyed him in the reflection, not wanting to give him an answer. And that didn't work for him.

He gripped your hair tight, pulling you back until his lips met your ear.

"Don't I?" He spat.

"Yes,"

He spanked your ass. Hard. Twice. "Yes, what?"

"Yes, you fuck me good."

Pleased, Harry reached in front of you, getting you to wet his fingers with your tongue before rubbing fast circles on your clit. Your legs turned to jelly, your body melting against him as he took you hard and played with your clit.

You felt the rush of pleasure wrap around you and grow in every nerve ending. He watched you in the mirror, intent on seeing you come again. He held you up while you writhed in his arms, his hips unyielding as he split you in half with his cock.

Your hands flew out, pushing various things off the vanity top as your orgasm barrelled towards you. Harry gritted his teeth, bending his knees to follow you as you moved so he could keep fucking you.

"You gonna come? Hm? Dirty fucking girl. Running around the studio with no panties on. This cunt was so wet for me from the start, wasn't it? Tiny dress, bossy little heels, and that fucking clipboard."

This climax was more intense than the first, but no less wet. You exploded around his cock, crying out his name before his hand came over your mouth to keep you quiet.

"Shhh. Good girl. Keep coming on my cock, don't stop, don't stop." He was feral at how good you felt around him, rubbing your clit until you were trembling at the overstimulation. His hips slowed, faltering. He was losing composure the tighter your pussy clenched around him.

He picked you up, not wasting any time in settling back on the small couch in the room. He laid flat on his back, while you straddled his hips. Your hands ran over his chest, nails digging into the skin as he gripped your ass and moved your hips.

His cock sat snuggly between your folds and you shamelessly rolled yourself along his length. You felt empty without him inside you and you lifted up, grabbing his length with a shaking hand, and slid him back into your warmth.

You both moaned out softly, his cock throbbing inside you. He could feel how close he was, as could you. Your hot and wet and dreamy cunt wasn't helping him stave it off. His vision was trained on you sitting on top of him like a fucking angel. Your tits, red from his teeth, your full hips, and your blissed-out expression.

He rolled his hips up softly, encouraging you to move. "Ride me, sugar."

You found a rhythm that had you shaking, so sensitive from your orgasms His cock pressed deliciously tight against your g-spot with every roll forward. With your hands flat on his chest, you started to bounce on him. You were so wet and the sound of it was making him crumble. The wet slaps and the way your pussy was drenching him.

His gaze met yours and he just about came. Your eyes lulled, cheeks flushed and your mouth agape as you fucked him. The most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. He grabbed your tits, playing and pulling your nipples with deft fingers. He strained his neck, moaning as you picked up your pace.

You wanted him to finish. To feel the toe-curling euphoria he'd given you. The one given when a connection like the one you had was this electric.

"Ooh, shit. Just like that." He praised, squeezing your hips so hard you knew they'd bruise.

"Yeah? You love watching me bounce on your cock, don't you?"

You'd thrown his own tactic right back in his face. The sweet voice with the daring question. Of course, he loved it. He was addicted.

"Fuck yes."

Your hand trailed up, lightly wrapping around his throat. He could feel the rings he'd given you to wear against his skin and he snarled, holding your hips and screwing up into you, meeting your thrusts. Having you fuck him with your hand around his throat had him fucking spiraling into another dimension.

"You're close," You mewled, his cock throbbing hard inside you. "I can feel it."

"Yeah? Go on, make me cum. I'm gonna cum so fucking hard for you, sugar. Gonna fill you right up, fucking take it. Take all my cum- fuck."

He let you take him while his orgasm hit. It was white-hot intense, his grip on you not lessening as he moaned out your name. He pumped you full of his cum, the thick white ropes painting your walls. His brow turned down in the middle, his lips parted a little and you could see the whites of his teeth. The thick cords in his neck protruded under your hand.

He was stunning and animalistic and brazen, even in a time when one is most vulnerable.

The muscles and tendons in his arms flexed as he held you down on top of him, humming out lowly as the flames of his orgasm dimmed into embers.

And while neither of you was sure how it would feel post the explosion, you'd expected at the very least that it would be awkward. You didn't have the fondest attachment towards each other but fuck if you weren't addicted to each other's bodies now.

He sighed, reeling in his climax. His hands crawled up your sides, encasing you and encouraging you to come down to him. He hugged you, sighing in your neck before kissing the skin. You could hear a commotion in the hallway of the crew leaving and it suddenly sunk in that you'd just fucked your boss.

And neither of you could wait to do it again.

"Should we get out of here?" He asked after a few minutes.

"We?"

"Mm. Head back to mine if you want. Got the new Sam Cooke vinyl we can jam out to."

You grinned, trailing your finger along his lips. "Can we fuck again?"

His expression mirrored yours. "We are definitely fucking again. Don't have to be as quiet at mine, wanna hear how loud you get."

You rolled your hips, feeling his cock softening and his release beginning to trickle out of you. He hummed, squeezing you as if to warn you.

"Behave, sugar."

"But that's no fun."

He couldn't disagree with that. He checked the clock and knew there was only a slim window of time for you both to leave the studio without raising any brows.

"Come on." He slapped your ass. "Let's clean up and cut out."

You slipped into the bathroom, your legs shaky from how hard he'd taken you. You cleaned up, as he'd told you to. Your reflection in the mirror was a sight for sore eyes and you tried your best to look presentable and not freshly fucked.

As you entered the dressing room again and gathered your things. Harry had dressed in his more casual clothes, a pair of mint dress pants and a t-shirt, throwing his fur coat over his shoulders. He noticed the way you slipped on your dress and smoothed out your hair, touching up your lipstick. He approached you, wrapping his arms around you as you stood in front of the vanity.

"You know I'm just gonna get you all messy again, don't you?"

"I'm counting on it."

He smirked, kissing your neck and fisting the hem of that tiny dress. You pulled away, eyeing the time. You bent over, going to pick up your panties and frowning when he snatched them up before you could.

"Hey, I need those."

"What'd I say, hm? You'll get them back when you earn them." He slipped the blue lace in his pants pocket, straightening his fur coat and holding out his hand.

"Jerk." You walked towards him, nudging his hand away and leaving the dressing room. A showcase that the feisty dynamic between you was here to stay. The lights were off in the studio now, aside from a few dim ones high up on the walls. He scoffed, racing after you. He lagged behind a few steps, wanting to watch your legs as you walked. You turned, throwing him a dubious look and he smiled innocently as he was caught checking you out. "What are you-"

A gleam of a security guard's flashlight lit up the wall next to you. Harry swore, pulling you towards the exit before you were spotted. You wouldn't get in trouble per se, but being sneaky was so much more exciting than sticking around.

"Shit- let's haul ass, sugar. Wanna play with you all night."

The warmth and adoration he felt on stage, under those lights with every pair of eyes set on him. It was a dimmed sensation compared to how he felt with you. His sugar. Saccharine yet equally as fervent, gooey and thrilling and sticking to him as if magnetised to his cells. 

[tryingtograspctrl]

BECAUSE I LOVE YOU: EVAN “BUCK” BUCKLEY X BLACK PLUS SIZE READER

SUMMARY: Buck doesn't seem to like you very much and you don't understand why. One day you get injured on a call and he doesn't hesitate to give you an earful which turns into an argument that helps you finally understand why he acts the way he does.

Warning: Mentions of discriminations, mentions of workplace abuse, mentions of injuries and blood, etc.

When you decided to pursue a career in firefighting you knew you'd face some hardships. You were a fat black woman in a white male dominated field, of course you would.

You experienced your fair share of discrimination when you started working at your first firehouse, the nasty comments about your looks from your coworkers, the mistreatment from your boss, everyone excluding you from calls suggesting that you stay at the station instead, that you'd be of more use scrubbing the truck or washing the dishes.

After months of abuse you requested to be transferred and your wish was granted.

Your first day at the 118 felt like a fever dream, when you had arrived you were greeted by nothing but warm, welcoming faces, people eager to accommodate you, excited to get to know you.

You felt safe, a feeling that had become foreign to you when you first became a firefighter. You had finally found a place that you could call home, finally found a team that you considered family.

Well... almost

You got along well with everyone, they were all super nice and understanding as you settled into the new environment, coaching you through your first few days.

Buck on the other hand was a real jerk.

From the moment you arrived he was extremely rude, micromanaging everything you did, critiquing your every move, bossing you around as if he was captain.

At first you thought it was some sort of hazing from him, a "let's pick on the new firefighter" sort of thing but as time passed you realized that his behavior towards you was no playful initiation.

"Hey probie, you're rolling that hose all wrong, move let me show you how to do it." He nudged you slightly, irritation evident in his voice.

You stood, wiping the dust off your knees, shooting him a glare.

"You always want to keep it wound as tight as possible, got it?" He looked up at you, raising a brow.

"Got it Buckley." You forced a smile.

This had been going on for weeks now, wherever you went he was sure to follow, breathing down your neck, waiting for you to make a mistake so he could swoop in and correct you, so he could make you feel like a kid.

You finished getting suited up, your helmet under your arm as you rushed toward the firetruck, climbing up into one of the seats.

There was a call involving a plane crash at a hair salon, sparks igniting and interacting with the many chemicals in the place causing a fire.

"Hen, Chim, you check on these guys, Eddie you grab the hose and knock this fire down, Buck, Y/n, you guys head inside and see if there's anyone trapped beneath the rubble." Bobby fired off orders.

"Got it Cap." You adjusted your helmet but just before you could trek toward the building Buck stopped you.

"Wait she's not going in there." He held out an arm in front of you.

"And why the hell not?" You furrowed your brows, a frown tugging at your lips.

"Because you aren't experienced enough." He glared down at you.

"I've been trained for this just like you have Buckley i know what i'm doing, and who are you to tell me what i can and can't do?!." You crossed your arms getting into his face.

He leaned closer, getting into yours too, a smart remark on the tip of his tongue but just before he could retort Bobby interrupted.

"Hey! Cut it out before i make both of you wait in the truck. Buck she's going in with you and that's final.” He scolded the two of you.

You both nodded, rushing toward the salon, the roof of the building slightly caved in.

Eddie had already put the fire out so you didn't have to worry about that.

"Help." A voice called out as you entered.

The woman seemed to have been sitting in one of the chairs just before the building collapsed, you could tell because it was glued to her back, a part of the ceiling pinning it against her body.

Another woman was just a few feet away from her on her side, a pair of scissors lodged into her neck.

You and Buck shared a look of horror before you got to work, pulling the heavy rubble off of her.

From the outside she didn't seem to sustain any injuries but you could tell by the way she reacted to being lifted up that she definitely had a few broken bones.

You and Buck got her outside, he led her toward the fire truck and you looked around, noticing a woman hysterically yelling at Hen.

"What's going on?" You jogged over.

"It's my daughter! My daughter was in there getting her hair dyed, i stepped out for a moment to take a call and i came back a-and i couldn't find her!" She sobbed.

"What's your daughter's name and what does she look like ma'am?" You crotched next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Hailey, I have a picture." She sniffled pulling out her phone.

You studied it, committing the girls features to memory, she wasn't scissor lady thankfully so you wouldn't have to break any bad news to her.

"I'm gonna find her." You squeezed the woman's shoulder before running back toward the building.

You and Buck had pretty much cleared the front of the building so you figured the best place to find her daughter would be toward the back.

The back of the salon had definitely took the most damage, the ceiling significantly lower causing you to have to get on your hands and knees, clawing at the rubble blocking the back room door.

Once you got inside you did a quick scan of the room, spotting a young girl in the corner unconscious.

You crawled over to her, rolling her onto her back and giving her a sternum rub.

Her eyes fluttered open, blinking a few times as they adjusted to her surroundings.

"Hi Hailey, how are you feeling?" You spoke lowly.

"Like crap." She groaned.

"I bet you are." You laughed lightly.

"Are you hurting anywhere?" You asked.

"My head and my neck are killing me." She explained.

"Okay come on, we're gonna get you outta here, get you checked out and get you back to your mom." You replied.

"My mom? Is she ok?" She sat up suddenly, yelping in pain.

"Okay, okay, let's take it easy yeah? Your mom is doing just fine, she pretty worried about you though so let's get you out of here." You guided her toward the door.

The two of you stood up completely as you made it back to the front but just before you could exit the roof began to fall down completely.

Instinctively you pushed Hailey out of the front door before falling to the floor, the ceiling falling on top of you not even a second later.

You passed out on impact.

Eddie rushed over to grab the girl guiding her over to an ambulance while Buck rushed to the building.

"Shit, Y/n!" He screamed, panic filling him.

He clawed at the debris, throwing chunks of it to the side in an attempt to get to you.

"Buck, buck!" Bobby grabbed his shoulders, pulling him away.

He shook rapidly, tears forming in his eyes as he watched the rest of the team use shovels to try and remove all the rubble from on top of you.

"Hey, let's get you patched up." Hen spoke softly grabbing his wrists.

He looked at her for a moment then looked down at his hands to see them covered in blood.

Hen tugged at his arm, leading him to the ambulance.

Time skip

You groaned placing your hand over your eyes, the bright hospital lights burning them.

You squinted trying to remember how you got here, the last thing your brain registered is leading Hailey out of the back room of the salon, everything after that is a blur.

"Hey." Hen looked up from her phone, noticing that you were now awake.

“Hi.” You smiled gently.

“You scared the hell out of us you know.” She grabbed your hand.

“Sorry about that… i don’t remember much, what happened?” You looked at her slightly confused.

“The building collapsed on top of you y/n, you pushed Hailey out of the way, took the hit for her.” Hen smiled sadly.

“Oh.” You bit your lip, you hated making them worry about you.

“She okay?” You asked after a while.

“She’s fine, just a slight concussion.” She reassured you.

“What about you? Any pain?” She brushed the hair out of your face.

"Lotsss of it, mainly in my back." You half smiled.

"I'll go get the doctor." She pat your hand before exiting.

Buck leaned against the door frame watching you for a moment.

"You okay?" He asked walking over to you stiffly.

"Yeah." You sighed as he took a seat next to your bed.

"Good." He nodded, staring off into space.

"What the hell were you thinking?" He spoke up after a while.

"Seriously Buck? Is that what you came here to do? Argue with me?" You narrowed your eyes at him.

"I came here to talk some sense into you, you act too reckless, throw yourself into things without thinking about the consequences." He rambled.

"If it isn't the pot calling the kettle black." You scoffed rolling your eyes.

"You could've gotten seriously injured or worse." He raised his voice slightly.

"But i didn't! I'm fine Buck, i saved that girl's life, that's my job!" You yelled, getting frustrated.

"Yeah this time you were but what about next time, the next time you decide to make a stupid decision? The next time you decide to sacrifice yourself?" He spoke roughly clenching his jaw.

"Stupid decision? God why are you so critical of everything that i do?" Your voice lowered, eyes searching his for an answer.

"Because i love you!" He shouted.

"I love you and i care about you so deeply and im scared, scared of losing you." He whispered, hanging his head low.

You blinked in surprise. Buck loved you?

"Buck." You went to sit up, groaning at the sudden ache in your limbs.

"You're not gonna lose me." You reached out grabbing his hand.

"You don't know that." He finally looked up at you, tears brimming in his eyes.

"None of us know that, we put our lives on the line every single day, the reality of it is that any one of use could die at any given moment." You lifted his chin.

"But we've made it this far haven't we? Sure we get a few bumps and bruises every now and then and some of us are left clinging to life but we're fighters, i'm a fighter and i've got a family now, i've got something to lose so their’s no way in hell i'm going out that easy." You laughed wiping a few stray tears from his cheeks.

He pulled you into a hug, squeezing tightly, face buried into your shoulder.

“Ouch, Buck by back.” You tapped him repeatedly signaling for him to release you.

“Oh sorry, sorry did i hurt you?” He let go quickly, helping you lay back down.

“Just a little but it’s fine.” You giggled.

“By the way, I love you too Buckley.” You squeezed his hand, smiling brightly.

A/N - Buck being a meanie because he doesn’t trust you enough to accept you just yet, then growing to love you just as much as he does everyone else but still being a meanie because you worry him to death lolll, now he knows how Bobby feels. 🌻

[thedeviltohisangel]

All The Things I Did

a/n: welp i'm in over my head. accepting prompts.

Every time a plane landed from Greenland, she watched and assessed those who departed from afar. They were always flush with the cold of flying and the excitement of arriving. Chest filled with the pride of reaching the front and the longing to taste the adrenaline of flying in unfriendly skies. She hated watching them deteriorate the longer they were in the English countryside. Hated that no matter how many times she laced up her boots and tread into the darkness and came back with a map or a plan or a snippet of a conversation in Berlin that it was never enough. She chose, deliberately and emphatically, to not try and get to know them.

But then, one day, Major John Egan got off that plane. And he was loud and ever present. He made jokes and sang in the officer’s club and spent days asking around about the Lieutenant that read at the bar and wrote notes in the corner of the interrogation room.

Spook. That is what the men called her. The Colonel had introduced her as an intelligence officer to someone once but no one had been there to verify the designation now. But she fit the bill. Steady demeanor. Whip smart on the off chance she was asked to answer a question before a mission. Quietly discerning even when ordering a Coca-Cola. 

She wanted to blend in but Bucky wouldn’t let her. He picked her out almost instantly upon his arrival. Saw her head flitting between buildings and caught her gaze for a moment on his way to Colonel Huglin’s office. A big red folder with SECRET emblazoned across the front. 

“Major,” she spoke with a polite nod. She didn’t wait for him to respond in kind before she was off and around the corner like she had never actually been there. He welcomed the challenge.

----

He saw her again that night, sitting at the bar with a half-drank Coke collecting condensation and her nose buried in a book of maps of Western Europe. Music was playing and people were dancing and John was wondering why it felt so normal. Maybe he’d be able to get Buck to loosen up a little once he got here. 

“It’s good to see you again, Lieutenant.” But for now, John would settle for learning her name. She curled an eyebrow and cast him a sideways glance, John noticing the red pen in her hand for the first time. “I’ve heard great things about the work you do here.” He leant his elbow on the bar and took her in for the first time. Her uniform was pressed immaculately and fit her like it had been tailored by a professional yet she seemed uncomfortable in it. Hair curled perfectly with not a strand out of place and a dusting of pink powder across her cheeks.

“Well, Major, those kinds of discussions would fly in the face of my exact line of work, wouldn’t they?” She faced him fully and he swallowed thickly. She could probably read him just as well as she could that book in front of her.

“Still. You’ve got a good reputation for the crumbs you give these boys.” She looked around and took note of the stares. 

“They’re only boys until they go up for the first time.” She turned back to her work. He wasn’t giving up. She wasn’t quite sure what they were when they came back but it was something different. 

“No one will tell me about it. What to expect when I go up there in a couple days.” With a sigh, she closed the book in defeat and faced the Major, crossing her legs professionally.

“I can only assume it's because there are no words for them to describe it. And if they tried, pilots such as yourself may not be eager to join up.” He smirked.

“Such as myself? I promise the stories do me no justice.” It was her turn to roll her eyes.

“You’re the air exec for the 100th who arranged to be a part of a different company’s missions.”

“And?”

“Do you fancy yourself a hotshot, Major Egan?” John almost choked on the sip of his drink that went down his throat. She was studying him. Analyzing his reactions to her words like they were a math problem. Picking her conversational path accordingly. Instead of replying, he flagged down the man behind the bar.

“Can we get the Lieutenant something a little stiffer?” 

“I don’t drink,” she deadpanned as whatever Major Egan was drinking was placed in front of her.

“You dance?” The rest of his glass went down easily. 

“With the right partner.” She knew what he was really asking. Answered ambivalently anyways. And carefully considered his hand when he offered it. “You’ve known me less than a day, Major. You haven’t even asked my name.” She stood from the chair she had been occupying, pushing the Major’s hand into his chest and holding hers on top of it for a beat.

“Not the right partner?” he mumbled as she looked up at him with the clearest eyes he had ever seen.

“Not yet. Enjoy the rest of your night, Major. I’m sure I’ll see you at breakfast.” John wanted to do something to leave an impression. Maybe kiss her hand. Spin her around and coax her into joining him on the dance floor. Chase whatever was gnawing inside of him to figure out more about her. Instead he let their hands drop and watched her grab her things from the bar top and walk out of the party. He didn’t notice that they had had an audience the entire time they were talking. Didn’t notice the way she took a deep, steadying breath once she was out of the room. Didn’t know, may never know, that she wanted to dance. Wanted to smile and get to know people and experience everything this life had to offer her. But if one more airmen went up and didn’t come back down, especially one like Major John Egan, she doesn’t think she could handle it.

----

“This seat taken?” This time it was John’s turn to be surprised. He looked up from the morning paper to see Lieutenant…Cooper is what her name plate said, holding her cap and gesturing towards the chair across from him in the mess hall.

“All yours.” She sat quickly and thanked the attendant when he placed a cup of coffee and a plate of food in front of her, her napkin placed delicately across her lap. “You learn that in debutante school?” He meant it as a joke but she froze.

“Maybe.” He hid a triumphant grin behind his own mug. “But I also learned that the way I behaved last night was not appropriate and I wanted to apologize.” John leaned forward, snatching a ration of bacon from her plate. 

“I’ll accept your apology when you give me that dance you owe me.” The look behind his eyes was wicked. She hates that she enjoyed it.

“I’ll tell you what, Major Egan, come find me after your first mission and you can have your dance.”

“John.”

“Your oak cluster outranks my bar, Major-”

“We’re gonna ease you into calling me Bucky.” She giggled and John beamed.

“Bucky?”

“I’ll tell you while we dance…” He left the sentence hanging, silently asking for her to provide her name in turn.

“People who aren’t my mother call me Cass.” He whispered it, enjoying the way it rolled off his tongue. 

“Suits you,” he shrugged, leaning back in his chair. 

“I’m glad you think so.”

----

Cass did her best to keep her eyes off of him during the brief of his first mission. Did her best to keep busy with cables and news from Washington in the few hours it took to complete the mission. Did her best to keep her wits about her when the first plane landed back on the runway. She watched from afar, as she had been accustomed to, as Major Egan got out of his plane. He was flushed with flecks of blood across his face. There was less behind his eyes than there had been the morning they ate breakfast together. Disappointed, her eyes dropped to her shoes. No one was safe from this war.

She skipped listening in on interrogation, securing a copy of the notes instead, and retired to her billet without any interruption. Sleep eluded her, sheets tangled around her legs as she tossed and turned. Giving up, she headed out in her robe and slippers to the airfield. The cool air soothed her instantly and made her smile as she breathed deeply. 

“Didn’t think I’d cash in on my dance out here.” She nearly jumped out of her skin, spinning around to see Major Egan leaning against his plane. His curls were loose and he was wearing his sheepskin instead of his blazer. 

“I’m sorry to intrude, Major-” she fumbled over her words as she tugged the robe tighter around her body.

“You told me there would be no words to describe it. I don’t have the tools to think about it, let alone talk about it.” His voice was strained under the weight of what he had just experienced. She approached him cautiously. “What do I tell my boys when they get here?”

“Nothing. The same way you went up there and followed your instinct and it brought you back here, it will for them too.” She was close enough to rest her hands on his chest, the way she had that first night by the bar, and he didn’t think twice as he twisted a lock of her hair around his finger. The light of the moon kissed an ethereal glow to her. One more intoxicating than the bottle of whiskey he had brought out with him.

“Dance with me,” he whispered, melting under her gaze and giving himself permission to stroke his fingertips across her jaw. She obliged, unable to deny him anything after he had learned the horrible truth that everyone who came here eventually did, her head resting against his heart and his arm tucking securely around her waist.

“Tell me more about you, John Egan.” It was best he remembered who he was, where he came from and what had originally inspired him to come here. To fight this fight. 

“I’m from a little place in Wisconsin,” he murmured as he rested his cheek on top of her head and his eyes drifted shut, lulled into peace from their gentle swaying. “Joined up even before Pearl.” She smiled. Almost everyone in her town had joined up after Pearl, including her.

“I’ve never been to Wisconsin. Didn’t leave South Carolina until they sent me to training in DC.” John hummed.

“So I was right about debutante school.”

“Next time, I’ll teach you a proper waltz.”

“Gotta have something down here to get me through being up there,” he mused, his eyes opening to look down and enjoy the tranquil look on her face.

“Don’t get used to it. My next trip across the channel got approved while you were gone this morning.” John stopped abruptly and looked at her quizzically.

“Across the channel is a warzone. Occupied territory.” 

“I know you know what they call me. Spook. How do you think you get your images of bombing sites and civilian population density and everything else? Someone has to go and get it.”

“Colonel said intelligence officer, not spy.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. He felt a twinge at the thought of her in danger but couldn’t help but feel the kindred spirit of someone chasing danger.

“I never said anything about spying. Just procuring.” His smile broadened and he swore he was going to kiss her if the sound of a wrench being dropped onto pavement didn’t startle them apart. Lemmons ducked back under the plane as soon as he saw the moment he had interrupted, Cass already retreated back into herself and shaking the fog of John Egan from her head. “I should go try and get some sleep before…” He nodded in agreement, clearing his throat and straightening his tie.

“That’s a good idea. I’ll walk you back.” He did so in silence, neither of them sure how to get back to where they had been. Not sure if they should go back to that dangerous of a place. “I can pick you up for breakfast in a few hours,” he offered slowly as they arrived at her door.

“I’d like that.” 

“Good. So I’ll see you then.”

“Sweet dreams, Major.”

“You too, Lieutenant.” She threw him one last smile over her shoulder, John not leaving until she disappeared from his view. If only Gale could see him now.

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Bucktommy prompt

"Well this is new" or "I can explain"

send me headcanons and microfic prompts

Lol the way I might expand this into an actual fic though 😂

When Your Best Friends Fuck

Eddie Diaz usually loved that his two best friends were dating. It was cool. They seemed so much happier with each other. Plus, it was much easier to get them both to come to something together if Eddie wanted one. Like a two-for-one friendship special.

And.

Well.

Usually, it was a good thing.

But, sometimes, it was Eddie walking into Buck's loft to find Tommy only in his turnout jacket.

Just.

Frozen in horror.

If.

If Eddie looked at Tommy at just the right angle.

He could.

He could see.

Nope.

Well, it was genuinely an impressive size, but -

Nope.

"Well," said Eddie, "This is new."

Tommy.

Looked more than a little mortified.

"Uh," said Tommy as he glanced between Eddie and the loft stairs, "I can explain."

"Nope. No, uh. No need to explain," said Eddie as he heard from upstairs.

He heard.

"Where's the fire?" called Buck, and, why was he in a turnout jacket too and -

Buck.

Ducked back into his bathroom the moment he saw Eddie, swearing before he yelled, "This is why I tell you to call before you come over now!"

And okay, maybe this was a little Eddie's fault, he should have called.

"Uh, just wanted to tell you in person that Christopher's going to be visiting this week," said Eddie, giving up on looking anywhere and just covering his eyes with his hands, "Felt like in-person news. I got excited. Sorry."

"No, that's - that's amazing!" said Tommy, and thank god Eddie could hear Tommy putting on pants, "That's great. I'd hug you. But I feel like I've traumatized you."

"Dios, like walking in on my parents," laughed Eddie as he hesitantly removed his hands from his eyes and - found Tommy in a shirt and boxers, "Okay, I'll hug you like that."

Tommy pulled Eddie in for a big bear hug.

"That's wonderful news," said Tommy, "Really."

"What news?" asked Buck as he scrambled downstairs in actual clothes, "What's the news?"

"Chris is visiting," said Tommy and - and Buck lit up.

"That's fantastic," said Buck as he joined in the hug, "I know you've been working so hard on yourself and building that trust back up - I'm sure he'll see that he can move back home during this visit."

"I hope so," said Eddie, and okay, it was kind of nice being surrounded like this by two people he called family; hugged by his best friends.

Okay.

It was worth coming in person to deliver that news.

[middlingmay]

Buck x Marge meet Gale HCs

What if it was Bucky and Marge who were together, and they both meet Buck?

Bucky and Marge have been together for maybe 6-9 months when he signs up to the Air Force. They're pretty smitten with each other, but also drive each other all kinds of crazy. Know all the buttons to push when they want to be annoying or get a rise out of the other.

They both like things a little lively, so hey.

Bucky enlists and all his letters to Marge are full of "my buddy Buck". She learns he has eyes like the morning sky, hair like the golden fields back home, a voice people jump to obey, lips like a dame, and a jawline that could cut glass.

"Hey!" he writes one day. "He's a lot like you! That's why we get on so well!"

And Bucky might be obtuse but Marge knows that isn't how most fellas talk about their buddles. But it amuses her more than anything else: her man's got himself a crush. She makes Bucky promise to introduce them sometime.

Almost immediately upon meeting John, Gale is regaled about his "little spitfire" at home, Marge. Mostly through John telling Gale how Marge and him are a lot alike, and he isn't quite sure how that makes him feel.

Especially when Bucky is so handsy and flirty and Gale definitely doesn't hate it. He leans into it, relishes it, anticipates it. Until Bucky mentions Marge again and something in Gale deflates and he pulls back.

There's a dance on, and Marge makes the trip and Bucky's so excited for them to meet. But Gale dreads it. Bucky already pushes it when he dances with girls at the bar, never taking it too far, and it makes Gale feel like crawling into a hole. He can't imagine what it'll be like when Bucky has his actual girl to fondle.

Then it's 100 times worse when he meets Marge because she's drop dead gorgeous and sweet and keeps John in line effortlessly, and Gale sits there, sipping his ginger beer, losing his goddamn mind about the fact he's jealous of both his best friend and his best friend's girlfriend.

Meanwhile Bucky and Marge are on the dance floor and Marge whispers in Bucky's ear that she knows about his crush and ho boy does she get it. And she wouldn't be adverse to getting to know Gale a little better.

And Bucky kind of just wants to drop to his knees in front of this woman because how perfect could she get?? But she's got that glint in her eye, and Bucky's never backed down from it yet.

"You like him?" He asks and Marge just bites her lip the way she knows gets him a little crazy. The way Buck bites his lips too.

"Then how about a little competition?"

That sparks the tinder in Marge’s eye. "What did you have in mind?"

"Whoever gets Buck to break first, gets first fuck? But no solo time! No way I'm missing out on that spectacle if you win."

"Oh, John," she says, glacing back over to Gale who's very busy looking like he's not watching them. "When I win."

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Fic: One Foot Out the Door (Won't You Come Back Inside?) 3/3

Hey, lookit! I finished a one-shot! Yes, I know three chapters is not a one-shot, but compared to my current WIP folder, this is positively a drabble.

Pairing: Buck/Tommy (Buddie is mentioned, but one-sided in this)

Part One

Part Two

“Yeah. Yeah, I know,” Evan said tiredly. “Is that where the writing on the wall came from?” he asked, looking into Tommy’s eyes with that same touch of fear that was making Tommy's heart hurt. Not trusting his voice, Tommy just nodded. Evan grimaced, squeezing his hands. “I was kind of hoping you hadn't noticed.”

Tommy froze, his first instinct to pull away, to curl in on himself–protect his vulnerable points–because what the hell? Evan knew? Evan already knew Eddie loved him, had already realized? When? How? How long?!

But Evan was still standing as close as he usually did, swaying into Tommy's personal space. He was still holding Tommy's hands in his strong, steady grip, still rubbing his thumb back and forth over the rough, scarred skin of Tommy's knuckles with the same soft, feather-light touch as he always did. As though Tommy was something worth treating gently, as though he was something to be held gently and treasured.

Why wasn't Evan pulling back, babbling apologies, and promising that he hadn't meant to hurt him. Why wasn't he tripping over himself saying that he loved Tommy, sure, but it was Eddie, didn't Tommy understand? He stared at Tommy's hands with an air of exhausted, saddened resignation…but it didn't feel like Tommy had been expecting it to. Evan's sadness didn't feel directed at him. What was going on?

“I'm…I'm gonna need you to run that by me again,” he said carefully.

Evan sighed, bringing Tommy's hands up to kiss his fingers before letting go. “I know I don't always have the best, uh, situational awareness outside of burning buildings, but I'm not an idiot. I can tell when people are interested.” He lowered his voice, crossing his arms over his chest in a gesture that Tommy could tell was more self-soothing than defensive. “And I know Eddie better than anyone. We're…we're working on it.”

Ah. There it was. His stomach dropped sickeningly, and he swallowed hard, reaching down deep for the focus he called on when making a particularly tricky landing or charging into a fire that was escaping control. The focus that let him concentrate only on his next move, let him take things step by step and not look at the big picture of how much danger he was in. He needed that to get through this.

He'd come here intending to fight…but he wasn't an idiot either. If Evan and Eddie were already “working on” something, then the fight was already lost.

God, losing Evan was going to hurt so damn much.

But he loved Evan. He loved Evan enough to want him to be happy. So he could do this. He could withdraw gracefully, make it as clean a break as possible for both of them. The last thing he could do for his boyfriend, before he lost the right to call Evan his anything. Maybe if he did this right, losing Evan wouldn't blow the life he'd been building around this, around them, to smithereens.

“--and Dr. Copeland's really been helping us talk through things. I'm really sorry I didn't tell you, but Eddie's…Eddie's not ready to come out yet and I promised him I wouldn't say anything unless it started causing problems for us.”

Evan was talking. Evan was talking quite a lot actually, his words coming faster and faster in a rapidly increasing stream that always signaled he was nervous, worried about not being understood. It was different from the way he picked up steam when he was excited about something, though Tommy couldn’t have told you how.

Abruptly, Evan broke off, reaching up to lay his hand against Tommy’s cheek. Tommy had to hold himself back from leaning into the touch, the calloused fingertips that were as familiar as his own by now. “I should’ve noticed this was upsetting you,” he said seriously. “That’s on me. I should’ve asked Eddie if I could talk to you sooner…he would’ve let me, I know he would. I guess—I don’t know, I guess I was just hoping we could smooth everything over before anyone figured anything out.” He shook his head, stroking Tommy’s cheekbone with his thumb like he wasn’t about to break Tommy’s fucking heart.

Gently as possible, of course. Evan was too kind to be anything but gentle. But it didn’t matter how gently you were lowered if the drop was a thousand-foot cliff.

“Babe, I promise, we already talked about it. I already told Eddie I wasn’t—well. We’ve talked about it. I’ll go on a different shift if it bothers you. I don’t…I don’t really want to move houses, but there’s plenty of places that’ll take me, so that’s an option too. Whatever you’re comfortable with. Just say the word.” Evan’s brow furrowed, his face settling into the determined cast that meant he was committed to whatever course he was laying down, be it for good or ill.

And…Tommy didn’t quite hear a record scratch in his head.

But that wasn’t far off as a description.

“What?”

Evan tilted his head slightly. “I mean. Ideally nothing changes. Eddie’s…Eddie’s my partner. I can’t really imagine working with someone else. But I, I, I get it. That’s a huge ask, even if Eddie’s your friend, too.”

“No, I—what?” Tommy was suddenly struck with the feeling that they were having two entirely different conversations.

“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about this. I—you have every right to be angry about it. I just…I know how you feel about outing people. And I mean, me too! I’d never, I’d never do that to someone, and like I said, I was really hoping it wouldn’t be a problem.” His voice changed again, crossing the threshold into desperation, a slight quaver on the end of each word that told Tommy his boyfriend’s anxiety was ratcheting up with every passing second. “I just didn’t want you to get hurt. Or Eddie.”

This wasn’t the way this conversation was supposed to go. This sounded like…didn’t Evan understand? “Evan,” Tommy said, feeling the words scrape over his throat like broken glass. “Evan, he’s in love with you.”

He could not let himself hope he was hearing his boyfriend correctly until he was sure Evan understood exactly what was on the table here. What he’d been seeing practically from the moment he and Evan first started dating.

Evan reeled back a little, his frown deepening. And then…and then he watched all of the puzzle pieces slot into place in his boyfriend’s brain. Those pretty, pretty eyes that Tommy loved getting lost in went wide, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Oh…oh, no. No. Tommy. Tommy, I know that,” he said softly. “But I’m in love with you.”

*

“I…I look, I’m not going to insult you, here,” Evan sighed, burrowing deeper into Tommy’s side and throwing an arm over his stomach. The two of them were sprawled on Evan’s couch, Evan tucked as close to Tommy’s body as he could manage. Given that he was over six feet tall and pretty much solid muscle, it was pretty impressively close. “If Eddie and I had figured ourselves out sooner…or if Eddie had said something back when we were first dating, well. It would have been a different story.”

Tommy could not help tightening his arm around Evan’s shoulders. “Right person, wrong time,” he said, the words barely carrying even the short distance between them. He felt Evan give a small nod, and could not bring himself to look down at his boyfriend. The man he loved. His, still, because Evan wasn’t trying to let him down gently. Wasn’t trying to leave. He couldn’t believe it.

He…he couldn’t believe it.

“Then why isn’t it right person, right time now?” he forced himself to ask. It felt stupid. Evan said he didn’t want to leave him, why was he looking a gift horse in the mouth? He had to know, though. He had to dig down to the very root of this whole mess, this single, unignorable thing that had been haunting his relationship with Evan all this time, standing in the way of the future he so desperately wanted with this man. He had to dig it out, once and for all.

Evan was silent for long enough that it started to make him nervous. Then his arm tightened across Tommy’s stomach. “Because we’re not,” he said finally. “I’m not the right person for him anymore…and he’s not the right person for me. Me and Eddie—whatever chance we had, it’s gone.” He shifted suddenly, sitting up slightly so he could look Tommy in the eye. “And I’m okay with that, Tommy. I don’t…I don’t regret that. I love you, okay? I love you. Full stop. No qualifiers.”

Evan could be insecure, sometimes. Unsure of himself. But he had never shied away from being honest with Tommy. Even when honesty was difficult, or painful. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be angry that Evan had hidden the fact that Eddie had told him he was in love with him…Eddie was Evan’s best friend above all else, and he’d been trying to stay loyal to both of them. It had been an impossible position. And…he hadn’t exactly been honest with Evan, either, had he? He should have talked to him about his doubts a long time ago. Especially when they became an obstacle to talking about the future.

“So Eddie’s been seeing Dr. Copeland with you?” he asked when Evan settled his head back on his shoulder. He carded his fingers through Evan’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. Evan made a soft, contented sound.

“I mean, not as a patient or anything. More like…he comes and sits in on some of my regular sessions and she helps facilitate conversations. We—the most important thing is Chris doesn’t get hurt, you know? We needed to make sure any issues between us don’t affect him. But she’s also helping me set new boundaries, and just be mindful of not giving him false hope. Helping us keep communicating and figure out if we need some distance, and how that would work.”

Tommy hummed to himself, and then pressed a kiss to Evan’s forehead. “That must be hard for him,” he mused out loud.

Loving Evan and not being able to have him? Tommy was probably the only person in the world who could understand exactly how hard that would be. He’d been so sure it was going to be him on that end of this equation…and Eddie was his friend, too. One of his best friends. He couldn’t find it in himself to feel anything but compassion.

“We’ve made it through hard things before,” Evan murmured. “Eddie…Eddie’s my best friend. He’s family. We’re not letting this ruin that.” He turned in Tommy’s arms, bringing himself impossibly closer. “But I meant what I said. I’m not letting this ruin us, either. If you need me to take a step back, I will. I mean—Eddie’s willing, too, but I just finished that HazMat certification, and my heavy rescue certs are more recent than his. Right now, it’d be easier for me to transfer somewhere.”

At that, Tommy wrapped his other arm around Evan’s waist and heaved, rolling him so that he was sitting on Tommy’s lap, facing him. “You’d really leave the 118 for me?” he asked in stunned disbelief.

Evan framed his face with his hands, leaning down to kiss him. Just a brief press of their lips together, but it was full of promise. “I’m never gonna lose the 118,” he said. “I know that…better than I ever have. But yeah, I don’t…I don’t need to work there, anymore. Not the way I did when I first started. You have no idea how much you helped get me there.”

“Baby…” he whispered, everything else he wanted to say getting lodged in his throat. Evan grinned at him crookedly, not a trace of doubt in his blue, blue eyes, and kissed him again. Deeper. Firmer.

Kissing Evan was always a delight, but this felt different. This felt like forever.

And in the face of forever, Tommy found he could finally chase away the shadow that had been haunting them.

“I’d never ask you to do that,” he said when they finally broke apart. He ran his hands up and down his boyfriend’s sides, loving the way he arched like a cat into the touch. “I trust you. I trust Eddie. If you say we can get through this, then that’s what we’re going to do.” He knew Evan hadn’t just been placating him, but the brilliant grin that broke out across his face told Tommy he’d said exactly the right thing. He answered it with his own, sliding his hands further down to rest on his boyfriend’s hips. “One condition, though.”

“Name it,” Evan said instantly, tilting his head curiously.

They weren’t on a romantic trip, or at a fancy dinner. There weren’t flowers or candlelight or any of the other trappings he’d imagined whenever he let himself indulge in thinking about how he might take the next steps with Evan. Curled together on his couch, basking in the knowledge that they were going to be okay…that they’d come face to face with a challenge that would have ended most other couples and were going to come out stronger for it…he found the setting didn’t matter.

“Come live with me when your lease is up. Hell, come now. Come home,” he said.

If he’d thought Evan’s smile had been bright before, this one was blinding. “Thought you’d never ask.”

[lemotmo]

Okay I'm going to partially tell on myself. I am new, as in the Buck/T kiss showed up all over my dash, as did all of Oliver's interviews and I just thought he was the yummiest most delightful human being I had ever seen and heard (my god is accent is heaven) new. And I thought that first kiss was really well done. It was a great scene. Now, that being said, I didn'twant to jump into a show that was seven seasons into the story with zero context, except the stuff I had been seeing on my dash for years. So I started from the beginning, with the full intent and excitement of getting to T in season 7. Imagine my surprise when he popped up occasionally in earlier seasons. His only good part was when we were supposed to believe that Chim could lift him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, haha. That was great.

Anyway by the time I made it to season 7, it was too late. I had just watched 5 seasons of Buck and Eddie. There was zero room for T to compete on any level. Which is why the behavior of some is so confusing to me. Let me say first that I do not think the show always intended to put Buck and Eddie together, I don't think that's been the intention since the beginning. There is however a very good case to make that Eddie's introduction was Buck's actual Bi bell ringing moment though (*what a man plays in the background*). I do however agree that the writing has trended, increasingly so, in that direction. The writers do not hold all the blame however, Oliver and Ryan have kind of acted them into a corner. There are several scenes, multiple scenes, where the acting choices the two of them made were interesting, to say the least (looking at you 'go for the title' kitchen scene I love. Buck was flirting on every possible level in that scene).

Sorry, I got off track, back to my point. The people like me, who came in after the kiss popped up everywhere, being all in on T is somewhat fine. The problem would be the ones who are deliberately refusing to go back and watch the entire series before pontificating on B/T being destiny and all that other nonsense. There is an argument to be made that they're avoiding it because they know most of the history dismantles their current ship fixation. So as a result those people can be easily dismissed because they have zero context to any of their opinions. The ones who were with you all for 5 seasons though, yes I've seen their posts, who lost their shit over 2 pairs of lips touching, is what I cannot wrap my brain around. I completely understand the excitement behind that first kiss. It was a much anticipated moment for BUCK. He was the important person in that scene.

But confusing, or deliberately misinterpreting, Buck's revelation and sigh of relief at finally figuring out something pretty significant about himself, as being about him finding T is a gymnastics act I did not expect to see from so many long haulers. I mean, it should be obvious but T wasn't important in that scene. His gender was what was important. Which is why they have barely bothered to show him since that episode. And the interactions they have shown, minus the hospital kiss, that they made sure to show Eddie's reaction to btw, have all been red flag scenes. Little things that show this relationship isn't really that different from his previous relationships. Buck may have figured out the gender part but he's still making the same relationship mistakes. It's why the few scenes they've had together, and it's the bare minimum of effort, have been about Buck trying to initiate some level of communication and emotional connection and him being dismissed or having it turned into a daddy kink joke. I also think Oliver's enthusiasm dipped drastically by the end and it showed.

Which brings me to Eddie. The show, and more so, Oliver and Ryan have already done the hard part. The emotional connection, which is way more difficult to pull off than a physical connection, is already there. Their chemistry is already established.They're partners in every way but physically. As a result it is not a huge character leap to eventually bring a physical relationship into it as well. That will not be a shocking character development for either character. It goes back to the way the two have been written and they way Oliver and Ryan have interrupted those scenes. I won't touch their interviews because I think it's pretty clear, at this point, they seem to agree it's the way to go. There's more story to explore with them learning how to navigate an actual relationship than there is in bringing in other, lesser characters, to firstly try to compete with that connection, and then try to establish endgame status. I don't know. It's not about any two pairs of lips touching it's about the right two pairs of lips touching. Because when it's the right couple the characters get that sigh and exhale of finally! But the audience gets their sigh and exhale of finally as well. That is the point.

Sorry this got looooong 🤣

Ooooh Nonny, you speak right to my heart.

First of all, thank you for going back all the way to season 1 to actually sit down and watch the show. We aren't just making up Buddie. It has been there since the beginning. I'm so glad you got to witness their beautiful history together and that you realised just how right they are for each other.

I can't speak for the people who suddenly turned 180° and dropped Buddie for BT. I have been shipping Buddie from season 2, so I don't understand their reasoning or motivation either. It like you said so beautifully:

"It's not about any two pairs of lips touching. It's about the right two pairs of lips touching."

And that is what it comes down to. We can be content with a lackluster, meaningless relationship for queer rep. Or we can be exhilerated with an amazingly complex and years in the making relationship, which will be so much better for queer rep. It will be revolutionary in so many ways to make a slow burn queer ship canon.

(Before anyone comes at me for talking about queer rep. I have slowly been figuring myself out over the last couple of years and, looking back at my life and relationships, I've come to realise that I definitely belong somewhere on the ace spectrum. Not sure where exactly, I'm still searching for the right label, but it feels right to me. This is actually the first time I said this on a public forum for people to read. Kinda scary to be honest.)

I know what I would choose for myself if I was faced with these two options. Why wouldn't we automatically choose this for Buck and Eddie as well? It's mind-boggling really.

So yeah: queer Eddie and Buddie canon in season 8! All the way!

Don't apologise for your great post. I loved reading it. Feel welcome to drop in whenever you want. :)

[karenandhenwilson]

I've seen so much discourse about Bucktommy and especially Tommy and it is so wild. I just want to write down some of my thoughts over all of it because that tends to help me to stop thinking about it.

"Oh, how can anyone just abandon Buddie for Bucktommy?"

Has anyone really abandoned Buddie, though? Or are they just for the moment very excited about a new and so very carefully portrait queer story line? Just because some people talk more (or for the moment only) about Bucktommy, doesn't mean they don't like Buddie anymore. They just have something shiny and most importantly canon to fawn over for the moment.

Also, I'd like to give that question back: Why aren't you all excited for a carefully and softly portrait new queer storyline about a character a huge part of the fandom—including the actor himself—hoped for years would get a queer story line?

And it's a pretty unique queer story. Of course, we had Michael figuring out his sexualtiy and growing comfortable in it right at the beginning of the series. But there are some huge differences between Michael's story and Buck's story.

For one, we ended up in the middle of that story. Michael had already done a huge part of the work of getting to know himself. He was ready to live as a gay man. And second, nothing of what we saw until season 3 was from Michael's point of view. It was all from Athena's point of view. 

So it was a "coming-out late in life" story line, sure. But it was a queer storyline from a straight perspective. And in some instances, from a very hurt perspective about it all (which are, of course, very valid emotions for Athena, May, and Harry, but it still gave the queer side of the story line a certain taint). And they did that beautifully, too, no doubt. I especially liked that the family didn't break over it, that they grew with that experience, and that Michael and Athena became great friends over the years.

But now we also have a "coming-out late in life" story line from the queer perspective! 9-1-1 is pretty much the only series I'm following right now, so I have no idea if we had something similar recently. But from all the talk I've seen, it's pretty damn unique, especially for a male bi character. So, of course a lot of people are super excited about it. Because it's honest and good representation that the writers and the actors are handling with a lot of care.

"Oh, if it were a female love interest, you'd all hate her again!"

First of all, go back read that paragraph about many people being excited about getting a queer story line again! I think that's about 40% of the answer for everyone wondering about it.

And then, of course, Tommy has now already more depth and character and background than we ever saw about Ali or Natalia. And despite some people claiming he didn't have any kind of redemption arc, he truly had a lot more of a redemption arc than Taylor ever got even if only glimpses of it were ever shown on screen. (Maybe I'll get into my thoughts about that in another post.) Not gonna talk about Abby, because I think most of the dislike for her came long after that relationship was over after she ghosted Buck (and after Eddie had shown up).

One huge difference between every love interest of Buck or Eddie we have seen in the past to Tommy is also, that Tommy gets along really well with Eddie. We've already seen a friendship develop there. That never happened with any of the women either Eddie or Buck dated before. We saw that one dinner Buck and Taylor had with Eddie and Chris, but it was very clear it was the first time, and that was over half a year into Buck and Taylor dating, probably more like nine months.

If you wear slash googles around Buck and Eddie or not, their deep friendship is undeniable. It's very much canon that they both have a hand in raising Chris. Any love interest coming in has to deal with that, and has to somehow fit into that friendship. Tommy is the very first love interest in canon we have ever been shown to have that potential at all.

I'm personally part of the fandom that thinks that Buck and Eddie have great potential in a romantic way, BUT that they are first and foremost soulmates, no matter if platonic or romantic. And at least the Bucktommy fics I've read so far have all acknowledge the friendship of buck and Eddie and Chris' role in Buck's life. With Tommy being very accepting and supportive of it. (Though, I admit I’m very careful in my selection process.)

"Oh, Bucktommy is only a steppingstone for Buddie anyway! Don't get so invested in it!"

Who are you tell anyone what they should get invested in? I also think, with the excitement right now, even if Bucktommy break up, the ship itself will live on in fandom.

And also, didn't any of you learn out of the cheating story line they settled Hen and Karen with?

There is barely any content for Henren*. And I've been looking! Most stories they are tagged in don't really focus on their relationship. And those who do focus on their relationship get barely any attention. And you know why that is? Because a lot of people can't or don't want to deal with the cheating. (I deal with it by trying to ignore it or seeking out content where it's fixed!) Do you all really want to have a second queer story line that centers around cheating?

And even if none of you care for Henren (which... I know many don't *shrugs sadly*), have you all already forgotten the real pain over Buck kissing Lucy and then not fessing up to Taylor about it right away? (Once again, I deal by either ignoring it or seeking out content that fixes that bullshit.)

I'm honestly pretty disgusted by all the speculation about 7x06 that has anything to do with Buck and Eddie cheating on Tommy and Marisol during the bachelor party. And even more so about all the fics one can find about that, or that use Tommy as a device for Buck and Eddie realizing they are in love. (Honestly, even filtering out the other relationship tag while looking for stories in one relationship tag doesn't prevent one from stumbling over those stories right now, no matter if one is currently looking for Buck/Tommy or Buck/Eddie stories. It's so fucking annoying. I've turned to only reading old Buddie fics for the moment.)

Aside from the whole cheating of it all, why do any of you think the next episode will focus on anyone else but Maddie and Chim?

"Bucktommy is so racist! But really, no surprise in this fandom!"

What's no surprise is that "racist" is once more used as a buzzword in this fandom. To the point that BiPOC fans of Bucktommy are being told they are racist for the ship they like. (Nothing new about that in this fandom either.) Honestly, half the arguments about why the ship is oh so racist either make my head hurt while I try to follow the many, many, many mental loops people are making to get there, or they just make me laugh outright.

Do some of you really believe it when you say "Buck got together with a White man instead of his Latino best friend, so of course that's racist!"??? I'm just... Are you okay? Do you maybe need something warm to drink, a snack, and a nice place somewhere in the sun far away from the internet to just enjoy nature for a little while?

As I said, I'll probably make another post about Tommy's redemption arc over the whole "He is an unrepentant racist and misogynist". That redemption arc exists and has been baked in since season 2 (even if some of people clearly lack the media literacy to see it). Though, other people already put together great meta posts about this. But maybe if there are enough of it, some people will for once acutally read and start to think instead of continuing to spew their hate.

*PS: If anyone has good Henren contant, especially fanfiction, feel free to drop me a DM. I'm always looking!

[to-be-a-dreamer]

Jumping onto your post about Tommy and cancel culture. People need to remember the general audience for 9-1-1 is people in their forties and fifties, who most likely did shitty things very similar to the things Tommy did in the begins episodes at one point in their lives, then grew and changed in the same way he did. So the notion that the show would circle back to before this obvious growth and portray him as some sort of irredeemable monster is laughable. Because they would be alienating a big chunk of their audience by doing that.

Post that Anon is talking about for reference (it could also be this one but the other one links back to this one anyway)

This is exactly why I have a love-hate relationship with Josh's monologue from Episode 6!! Because it is absolutely true that younger queer people (or queer people who came out in more recent years) who haven't learned their history could never understand the kind of things people had to do to protect themselves. And I immediately clocked that the whole plotline about Abby was supposed to be an indirect explanation for why Tommy acted the way he did in the flashback episodes and it was actually the writers subtly speaking to the viewers who still didn't understand. And that's such an important conversation to have but I don't know why they didn't just make the episode about that instead of bringing Abby into it.

Like, it would have been so much more impactful and just as easy if, instead of Tommy offhandedly mentioning he was Abby's ex-fiance, Chim and Hen were joking about how Tommy used to act when Gerard was captain of the 118. And instead of Buck not understanding why a gay person in the 2000s wouldn't feel safe enough to come out, he could wrestle with the fact that Tommy had once been a bigot who hurt his friends and we could see him work through that with the viewers.

I dunno if they just didn't know how to write that or if they're afraid they wouldn't be able to redeem Tommy to certain viewers if they acknowledged that part of his backstory and preferred to just keep ignoring it in the hopes that people would just move on. But the fact is that Tommy's story is relatable to so many people who watch 9-1-1 and I'm sure a lot of them were excited to see that portrayed on TV. And I'm just really sad for those people who have to see other fans act like they don't deserve to be happy.

Queer history isn't all drag queens and Stonewall riots. It's also people like Tommy who had to hide who they were and do shit they shouldn't have because not everyone is brave enough to throw the first brick. Even today, being queer in real life isn't always like Heartstopper or Buddie fanfictions. Sometimes it's scary and it's messy and there are so many good people who do a lot of bad shit out of fear. And maybe you don't think that's right but it happens and those people deserve the chance to redeem themselves and be a part of the community. It's time we start telling their stories too, not just the perfectly noble ones.

[loulovingho]

Can you please do a hurt/comfort Eddie + Tommy friendship with Bucktommy - Tommy gets hurt in some way (mentally/physically/sick/etc) and Eddie helps him until Buck can get there

you gave me a reason to finish the fic I started earlier today! thank you!

His teeth were chattering. Had been since he woke up after hitting the ground.

He didn't hurt anywhere, which was never a good sign.

He laid there, surrounded by trees. Cold, wet leaves underneath his body. He could hear crickets and frogs all around him. Could smell smoke somewhere nearby.

There were distinct sounds of metal creaking mixed in with nature.

Slowly, he moved his head to the right, then to the left.

Fire.

It was about fifty yards away. Thankfully, due to the recent rain, the fire was contained to the helicopter that had so gracefully fallen out of the sky.

He wasn't sure how he ended up so far from it. Had no memory of being ejected or jumping or whatever happened that made it so he wasn't inside those flames.

He lifted his hands to his face, could barely see them as the sun set below the trees. He was sure there was blood. Dirt, mud, leaves, and blood.

They shook so fiercely he wasn't sure how he had any control over them at all.

His breathing was labored, heart beating rapidly. No matter what he tried, he couldn't seem to calm himself down.

Suddenly, in the distance, he heard something.

People talking.

Not just people, familiar people.

Family.

“H- Here,” he barely managed to get out, figuring they'd be running toward the fire instead of him. He cleared his throat, tried again. “Here! I'm here!”

The talking stopped, then there was running.

He could feel the pounding of the footsteps as they approached.

“Hey, we gotcha, Buddy!”

“Howie?”

“Yeah, it's me. Saving your ass, once again.”

Hands were on him now. Lights shining in his eyes, causing him to squint. He could hear others talking. Hen, Eddie, Bobby. Couldn't quite make out what they were saying.

Chimney had him focus on him. “Can you tell me your name?” he asked.

“T- Tommy,” he answered. God, he wished he could stop shaking. He couldn't barely get out a word.

“Year?”

“2024.”

“Best paramedic you know?”

“Hen,” Tommy replied, choking out a laugh.

“Hey now!” Chimney exclaimed, mocking offense.

“I knew I liked you,” Hen said with a smile. She patted him on the shoulder before getting back to work.

Chimney chomped on his gum a couple times before asking his next question. “Can you wiggle your toes for me, Tommy?”

Tommy shook his head. He lifted his arm, tried to pull Chimney closer to him so he could whisper. “I c- can't feel anything,” he paused, sucked in a shaky breath, “b- below my waist.” He knew what this meant, and he also knew he was in shock. The adrenaline pumping through him was the only thing keeping him remotely alert.

Chimney nodded, sharing a glance with Hen. “Cervical collar for our dashing pilot here, please, Hen.”

“Already on it.”

“Ho- Howie?”

“Yeah, Buddy?”

“Ev- Evan?”

“Buck went home early today,” Eddie answered, moving into Chimney's place so he could do whatever work needed to be done. “Chief is cracking down on overtime, so he had to be sent home.”

“We've... We've been sa- saving f- for the wedding,” he explained, although he wasn't sure why. Everyone there already knew that.

Eddie took Tommy's hand and wrapped it up in his own. “You were probably already up in the air when Buck sent you the text complaining about being sent home.”

“He'd say... He'd say th- the chief didn't want us t- to have the good hors d'oeuvres.”

Eddie nodded, tried putting on a smile. “He did mention that on his way out.”

Tommy squeezed Eddie's hand. “We m- might have to re... reschedule.” His lip trembled at the thought, tears welling in his eyes. Evan was so excited for the wedding. Had been working diligently and meticulously on every detail since they got engaged in October. He wanted a winter wedding, and didn't want to wait another whole year, so February it would be. With it being December now, Tommy didn't see any way he'd be able to fully recover by then.

If he did at all.

“Let's not worry about that right now, alright, Man? I don't think Buck will care when the wedding is, as long as there is one. Let's focus on that, okay?”

Tommy nodded. Blinked a few times to rid himself of the tears.

A few fell anyway.

“Ed- Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Do I... Do I still have my legs?”

“You certainly do, Kinard,” Bobby interrupted. Tommy wasn't sure how long the captain had been on his other side. Bobby gave his shoulder a light squeeze. “You've got all your limbs right where they should be. You ready to move now, Kid?”

Tommy could've laughed at the nickname. He'd been called that by Bobby a couple of times, many years ago. It'd been a long while since then.

He nodded. “Ready.”

Eddie didn't let go of his hand as they lifted him and began carrying him to the ambulance. Tommy was a bit surprised. He didn't remember ever being moved onto the spine board. Hadn't felt a thing.

A part of him had wondered if they'd even been working on him during that time. That maybe Eddie was the chosen distraction until he drifted off and his breathing stopped.

He was glad to know he was wrong.

*****

Bobby drove them to the hospital, with Eddie staying in the back beside him. It was a bit cramped with him, Eddie, Chimney, and Hen all back there together, but the fact he was surrounded by these people made him feel a bit more comforted.

Tommy looked over to where his and Eddie's hands were still tightly gripped together. He wasn't sure if Eddie was refusing to let him go, or if he was refusing to let Eddie go. Didn't really matter either way. He needed something to keep him tethered to reality.

He shook his wrist back and forth a few times to get Eddie's attention. “Can you... Can you call Evan? Please?”

“Of course,” Eddie replied, grabbing his phone out of his pocket with his free hand.

“You've got some cuts on your arms, Tommy,” Hen explained as Eddie pressed Buck's name. “We're gonna work on those on the way to the hospital, so you might feel some stings, okay?”

“Yeah. That's okay.”

Eddie put the phone on speaker and Buck answered on the third ring. “What's wrong?”

“Buck-”

“Who is it, Eddie? I just left work an hour ago. Is it Bobby? Hen? Chim?”

Tommy took a deep breath. “B- Baby.”

Silence.

Then.

“Tommy? Is that you?”

“Had a... a little accident.”

“What hospital?”

“The usual,” Eddie replied.

“I'm heading there now.”

“Evan? Evan!” Tommy exclaimed, wanting to get his attention before he got in the car and started to drive.

“I'm here, Tommy,” he answered. “I'm gonna meet you at the hospital.”

“I don't wanna... wanna scare you,” Tommy said, and he could feel the tears burning his eyes again. “I can't. I can't feel my legs.”

“He's stabilized,” Chimney added quickly, before Buck could ask. “Likely a lower spinal cord injury.”

Another pause, followed by a quiet. “Okay. Okay.”

“He's doing well, Buck,” Eddie reassured him. “We're all right here with him. He won't shut up about you, like always.”

Tommy smiled. He hoped Evan did as well.

“Feeling's mutual,” Buck replied. His voice was softer now. Tommy knew the words were meant to keep him focused and thinking positively.

It worked.

“Need you t- to be safe.”

“I will, Baby. I'll drive safe and I'll be at the hospital as soon as I can, okay?”

“Okay. L- Love you.”

“I love you, too. So damn much, T- Tommy.”

Tommy wasn't sure who hung up first, but he could tell by the way Evan's voice wavered at the end that he was probably close to falling apart.

“Thank you,” Tommy said as Eddie put his phone back into his pocket.

“Whatever you need, Bud, I'm here.”

“Just... Just keep ho- holding my hand.”

Eddie nodded, squeezed a little tighter. “I can do that.”

[buddiebeginz]

If they are keeping Lou around for any part of season 8 the show has to put an end to the cameo nonsense. Some of the Buck/Oliver takes that are starting to make the rounds are next level insane. I saw one scolding Oliver for making Lou do all the promoting of the ship. Another post said the writers needed to up Buck's game because he's not at the level of commitment yet that Tommy is being written (wtf when were these episodes). And yet another post scolding Oliver for promoting Buddie and Buck for continuing to spend time with Eddie.

They are taking these PAID (you paid him to say this shit) videos and making them canon. No part of anything he's saying is canon. Firstly, he wouldn't be allowed to tell them any actual canon facts and secondly Oliver/Buck is the character/actor the show gives a shit about. He's encouraging this nonsense and it's gross. Him promoting himself is fine, it's low-key cringe given the fact the other half of the ship is silent but you do you, babe. Oliver's silence is what's pissing his fans off. Seriously tell me you're new to Captain Starks ways without telling me you're new. He promotes no ship but the Buddie ship, canon or not. These people are here for Lou. When he goes, happy for him to take them with him.

I'm not sure why they keep letting him do those cameos especially after he pissed people off when he said T*mmy being homophobic and racist to Hen and Chim was just teasing. He also talked about people recognizing him in Thailand in the AH interview and did this fake stereotypical asian accent. 🤦‍♀️He really needs a better agent and some media training because they'd for sure tell him to knock that shit off.

I could see the cameos being fun to do a few times when he first came back to the show even to garner excitement about B/T and T*mmy but the fact that he's done so many now and has even raised the price just makes him look desperate for attention. And like you said he gives all these headcanons about T*mmy in his videos that his obsessive fans have taken for absolute fact. We would never hear the end of it if Buddie fandom was paying Ryan for videos like that.

I agree with you that a majority of B/T stans are here first and foremost for T*mmy and Lou not Buck and Oliver. I still can't believe that a lot of them used to be Buddie shippers. I think everyone should be able to ship what they want including multishipping but I don't get how some of them dropped a ship they were seemingly invested in for years for the nothing that is B/T.

That part of fandom also loves to call us delusional and say we're seeing only what we want to see but a lot of times we're just pointing out what's actually happening. Like in the recent episode T*mmy was being a downer to Buck's enthusiasm (which has basically become the norm for them). The camera also paned to Eddie after Buck got his award not T*mmy. Buck chose to run off to Eddie's after work not to T*mmy's. These are things the show is literally showing us not just stuff we're imagining.

It's similar with Oliver. They can come up with all the reasons in the world why he's never promoted B/T through this entire season but it doesn't matter because he still hasn't and likely won't. I've seen them say Oliver doesn't post anything about B/T or Lou to avoid dealing with the hate or to not upset Buddie fans or to protect Lou. The thing is though Oliver has left social media before when he's had issues and could again if he wanted to. He's also been dealing with homophobic comments since Buck came out but he's never shied away from talking about Buck coming out and has even addressed the hate on his insta.

Oliver liked a couple of B/T pieces of art when the story first happened but I think that was more to support the bi Buck storyline and the artists than anything else. Multiple times during this season he's liked Buddie art (including a tattoo which he commented on three times) he's also posted Buddie related and Ryan stuff on his stories. If he wanted to show support to Lou or B/T he could easily post on his stories where people can't comment. B/T stans can think what they want but it's clear Oliver doesn't promote any of that because he's rooting for Buddie harder than anyone. I think he knows B/T isn't going to be around forever and he's trying not to lead people on about it as he's said in the past he hates to do that.

I really hope we can get rid of T*mmy at the end of s7 although knowing Tim he'll probably keep him for added drama until s8. Unfortunately even when B/T ends I expect those fans to do a lot of complaining because they've concocted this whole idea in their head that T*mmy is Buck's endgame soulmate. They even want T*mmy to be added on as main character and get a begins episode. So I fully expect some of them to riot when he inevitably gets the ax. The rest will probably run back to Buddie the minute it becomes canon and try to pretend they never left. Jokes on them though because a lot of Buddie shippers have blocked them for how awful they've been this season especially towards Eddie.

[im-not-batman]

Okay i am SO excited that people were interested so here it is. I need to preface this with the fact that it won't be totally 1-to-1.

9-1-1/The West Wing Fusion crossover AU thing

SO, i already said Bobby is the President. Not only does it make sense for his relationships with everyone else, but he is also very similar to Bartlett in a lot of ways: the Catholicism, the hidden illness (Jed's MS and Bobby's Alcoholism and PTSD), the strong moral compass and the way they are always everyone's go-to for advice. Also the way they deal with problems and conflict.

Athena is obviously FLOTUS. Unfortunately i suffer with Can't-Stand-Athena Disease, so i'm leaning on my love of Abbey for this one. But they're both very capable, intelligent women who can't be told what to do. Both are completely devoted to their families and are even self-destructive with that love sometimes. (Athena going after Amir (DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THAT - FUCKING ACAB) and Abby secretly treating Jed's MS and putting her lisence in question).

May and Harry should take on the roles of Zoey and Ellie respectively. May still being the older sibling, i just think they fit the personalities of the siblings better that way. Harry being distant and aloof until they have a breakthrough, May being close to the family and friendly with the other staffers. Also the Charlie/Zoey of it all.

Hen (my beloved) is Chief of Staff. This feels obvious. She's already Bobby's second in command, she's got the instict for it, and the respect of all the others. I also think she would still have a fire fighting background and she got into politics later. I just think that experience would be vital for her as COS, similar to Leo's military service. I also think a professional history like that would also commmand respect from strangers.

For Deputy Chief of Staff I'm (perhaps predictably) going with Eddie. I was toying with the idea of it being Chim but you'll see why i didn't got there when i explain his role. But yeah, Eddie's perfect for this one. Both he and Josh are dramatic about everything, they both have well-meaning hearts that sometimes results in them doing or saying stupid shit, they have deepseated issues that cause them to push people away. Also, need i say it? SHOOTING ARC! This also (again predictably i fear) allows for the EPIC ROMANCE of Josh and Donna to be mapped onto Buddie.

Which brings me of course to Buck. He's gotta be Donna. They've got the shared history of failed relationships with some not great people (but remain hopeless romantics anyway), Buck flitting from job to job and Donna not having much work experience go hand on hand too. Also they're both very capable and intelligent but hide it/don't realise that fully. I like to think that Maddie qas the one to get him his job amd Eddie was just a bit too scared to question her.

Now Maddie. This might be an unpopular decision because on the surface they are nothing alike, but I'm putting Maddie in Toby's spot. Not only does she suit Director of Communications perfectly – Maddie is the fucking QUEEN of coomunication (season 5 notwithstanding lol) but she and Toby share a lot of their values. Sure, Toby's a miserable, pessimistic asshole about it, but they both believe in a very black and white definition right and wrong. They are both loyal to a fault (even Toby's treason was an act of loyalty you can fight me on this but you will LOSE) and do everything they can to protect the people they love. Also i just love them both so much i want to fuse them into one because it makes me feel like a mad scientist in a lab trying to create the perfect character out of goo and slime and glitter.

Anyway! For Maddie's second, I'm really not sure. I was thinking maybe Linda or Josh but neither fit particularly well to me. Idk, let me know what you guys think.

Okay. Chim. Think how perfect he'd be as Press Sec. Please. That man is BORN to be on camera. He's charismatic and friendly and relatable, he comes across as approachable but fr who would cross him if he put his foot down? No one! Also. I IMPLORE you to please imagine him doing the Jackal. It was so hard to figure out who i'd trust to take up the mantel of CJ "baddest bitch around" Cregg because i love her so much but when i started to consider Chimney it felt obvious 😅 i also just think he'd love to have the opportunity to evicerate an asshole on live television, and he DESERVES that opportunity too. And if you were wondering: Yes I DO ship CJ and Toby. Hence Madney being their counterparts.

Now for my boy Charlie!!! It of course HAS to be Ravi!! Those boys are the sweetest loveliest boys on the planet! They pair up so well! I also have a headcanon that, similar to Charlie, Ravi has younger siblings he's always had to take care of because their mum died and their dad worked too much. So. Yeah. Also lowkey May x Ravi nation where are you please accept me into your ranks.

Anyway, i hope this is acceotable to everyone who was interested. I might write something in this AU one day but if you have ever interacted with me before you should know not to hold your breath lmao

Tagging @pangrams-n-palindromes from my other post so they see this, I hope that's okay!

[wildlife4life]

Fuck-It Friday

Tagged by the super amazing @daffi-990, @diazsdimples, @theotherbuckley, @disasterbuckdiaz @devirnis @fortheloveofbuddie and @wikiangela. Thank you and I'm excited for all your upcoming works!

I know what the people want, so here is another snippet from NFL Buck featuring more of Buck's perspective. (All things NFL Buck can be found here.)

Ali gave him one last tight hug, "You did good Buckley. Shook all the right hands, stayed away from the corporate sharks, and the press absolutely loved you." She praised. Buck felt warm all over and gave her a soft, grateful smile, "We both know I only survived this evening because of you. I can't thank you enough Ali really." His agent's eyes misted over and she smiled in return, "Maybe so Evan," He scrunched his nose and Ali rolled her eyes, "Sorry...Buck. You still haven't told me how you got that chicken sounding nickname and why only like four other people besides me call you it." They both chuckled, but quickly sober. She gives his right bicep a gentle squeeze, "I'm only here because of you. Because you took a chance on a no name, client-less, newbie sports agent who was brought to you by your secret boyfriend after he patched her up following an astronomically awful rage quit that put her asshat of a boss in the hospital." "He tried forcing himself on you. It was self defense and a faulty balcony railing." Buck reminded with a smirk. The petite brunette winks, "And thats the story I'm still sticking to." She waved her hand around brushing away the past, "The point is, were here because of your hard work, sacrifice and enormous heart. I'm just making sure no one takes advantage of it all. Accept your share of the credit and celebrate being the 9th pick in the first round of the 2013 NFL draft. Celebrate being the Houston Texan's newest quarterback! Whoo!" She shouts in elation. Buck laughs boisterously and cheers right along with her, at a lower volume level and with less energy. He was happy really. The dream he's had since he was six was becoming a reality. All the practicing, studying, workouts, and personal sacrifice had finally paid off. Ali was one of numerous people who got him to this point and he was glad he at least had her at his side tonight, but Buck really wished the three most important people in his life were with him too. Maddie sent an email from her work account congratulating him, but Buck hadn't seen or physically heard from the woman who basically raised him since he left for college. Eddie couldn't get the time off and neither of them felt comfortable bringing a soon to be five year old Christopher to New York. Kid was still getting the hang of his new crutches and finding adequate childcare for him that didn't involve Eddie's parents was impossible. Buck really missed his Diaz boys (and his sister, but that was an ache he was accustomed to). He wanted to see Christopher's blinding joy when Evan's name was called, even though he wouldn't quite understand what it entailed. He wanted Eddie to wrap him up in the tightest hug while shouting his excitement too close to Buck's ear before kissing him stupid and shoving him towards the stage. Buck wanted to be out and open and proud with his partner and son, but the world his football dreams are apart of, wouldn't accept it and that tight ache in Buck's chest will have to stay.

A bit angsty today, but I want ya'll to see these milestones of a professional players road to the NFL. It takes so much hard work and sacrifice to make it to the NFL, and for Buck that includes the personal sacrifice to stay closeted and keep his same sex relationship a secret. A lifelong dream like that is worth it to him, to many professional athletes. I hope you all enjoyed!

Tagging (no pressure): @exhuastedpigeon @spotsandsocks @lover-of-mine @jesuisici33 @bekkachaos @thewolvesof1998 @giddyupbuck @eddiebabygirldiaz @hippolotamus @rainbow-nerdss @spaceprincessem @athenagranted @eddiescowboy @evanbegins @elvensorceress @malewifediaz @911onabc @911-on-abc @loserdiaz @hoodie-buck @try-set-me-on-fire @ladydorian05 @bigfootsmom @watchyourbuck @thekristen999 @spagheddiediaz @monsterrae1 @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess @bitchfacediaz @buck-coded @housewifebuck @glorious-spoon @buddierights @prosperdemeter2 @lemonzestywrites @cal-daisies-and-briars @transboybuckley