#and like everyone hated him so I’m just like I won’t say a word

[whatifitis]

♡ I See You - LN 4 ♡

Summary: Lando is under immense stress due to his career and he can't drag down his love with him. Will their relationship survive a horror movie?

Author's Note: This was requested and as soon as I saw it, I was excited to start it and I had so many ideas for this so I hope y'all enjoy it!

WC: 6k+ with some instagram posts

CW: poor mental health, a bit of angst, a kiss here and there, happy ending

-=+=-

479,271 likes

f1 Just one lap could’ve made all the difference for Lando’s race 😣

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User32 Lando needs to stop thinking he ‘should’ve won’ it’s starting to seem a little entitled.. The two ahead of him have 165 wins between them

User33 They completely ruined Oscar’s race

User34 the only thing he brings to McLaren and F1 is shame

User35 Geez people in the comments are so quick to say hateful things but don’t think about how their words hurt, lando is pressuring himself into doing good and yall just wanna hate on him at any chance you get

-=+=-

Liked by bestieusername and others

f1gossip sources close to the couple are saying that Lando Norris and Y/n L/n have split after just 7 months together

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User22 she was just one of the girls he’ll date for like a summer then leave when he’s bored. Can’t wait to see who the next slut is

User67 she lost color in her face since she’s been with him, glad she finally knows her worth

User54 she looked so bored recently, and i mean it’s her right since he practically love bombed her

-=+=-

“I can’t break you when I’m breaking.” - was all you heard before everything went silent. 

You and Lando had been together for about 7 months, not all of which was rainbows and daisies. 

When you first met, it was like stepping into the sun again after having spent so long in the dark. You had your fair share of heartaches before Lando. It was hard for you to give in to him at first, but after a few weeks, you gave in and you’re grateful for giving not only him, but yourself a chance. 

You knew what you were getting into when you started dating him. You knew he was a driver in F1 and that his fanbase could be quite protective of him. You also were aware of his crazy schedule with the races and meetings and training. Lando also told you about how he and his ex had to break up due to the invasion of privacy that was experienced, and how his ex simply couldn’t do it anymore, which is more than understandable. But even with every warning he gave you, you still stayed. 

These past few weeks have been chaotic though. Lando is a strong contender for the WDC this year against Max and there’s pressure and eyes all around him. You’ve watched as the media berated him for weeks and weeks, never letting up. Everyone has high expectations of him and it’s slowly destroying him, even if he can’t see it yet. 

You won’t lie, it has indeed had an impact on your guys’ relationship. Not only is distance and time difference straining you two, but the constant analysis and comments from the media have taken a toll. 

It was obvious to you that Lando would be gone for most weeks out of the year, but now, even when he is home, he’s not fully there. It’s like he’s a ghost in his own home, his own body. 

“You’re not breaking me” - you tell him. But you both know you’re lying. As much as you may love him, his distance has been something that has destroyed you. You started to wonder what you were doing wrong, how could you fix this? 

“I am, and it’s hurting me so much that I’m doing this to you when you don’t deserve all this shit. You deserve so much more. You deserve all the good things in life, like seeing your partner for more than a week, going to the grocery store without being stalked by fans, having someone who can be there for you, someone who won’t drag you down.” he says, tears streaming down his face. His hands are shaking at the thought of losing you, but he knows he loves you too much to let you down. He’s completely broken now. His heart aches and sinks every time he thinks about how you’re being treated. He doesn’t want to be the person who takes your sparkle, who makes you feel less of a person. 

“You’re not. I’m fine. We’re fine, love. I can handle it, all the shit that’s getting thrown at us. We can survive this horror movie.” you try to convince him… convince yourself, as tears are now streaming down your face as well. 

“We can’t. I’m not the way I was, I’m not the same person I was when we met.” you watch as he takes a shaky breath in, trying to compose himself, “All I ever wanted was to drive and race in Formula 1. But now that I have it, it doesn’t feel enough. As soon as I joined, so much pressure was put on me to be the best. When I started, the car was shit, so I helped make it better, and I did. I feel like all I’m doing is trying and trying to please everyone and to be who they want me to be, but it’s so hard. And this isn’t what I wanted. I just wanted to race and have fun, not drive myself to the point of destruction. I don’t want to be the machine that the team, media, and fans want me, and expect me to be. I feel like I’m giving my all to the team and to the sport but it’s not enough and it’ll never be enough. I feel like I’m stuck and I can’t get out no matter what I do. The one thing I wanted all my life, and now it’s mine. But it feels like I’m theirs.” he lets out an ironic laugh. 

You slowly walk to him, moving to hold his hands in yours. Without missing a beat, one of your hands gently lifts his chin, making his eyes connect with yours. 

“They’re feeding you to the wolves and it’s unfair. They cheer your name until the lights go out, then they throw you to the side and disregard you till the next time they need you. They’re not fair to you and it’s draining you. You have a look that I can’t recognize. You used to love this sport with all your heart but now it’s the thing that’s killing you.”

“But I need to keep going. I need to prove that I can be what they want. I need to prove that I’m not just some spoiled, ignorant kid who paid his way to this place. I need to show that I earned my right to be here and to have this seat.” he tries to explain. 

“I understand that, Lan. But we need to find a better way to handle all this. It’s clearly taking a toll on you and your health. It’s been a long year. You’re constantly watched and analyzed, with people documenting your every move to create sickening plots for their stories of you, of us. They expect so much, so you’re expected to follow, but that’s not how it’s supposed to work.” He pulls back from you, removing his hands from yours and taking steps back. You watch as he begins to pace the room, shaking his head as he speaks. 

“To know me is to hate me, and to hate what I’ve become. It’s to watch me fail over and over again, and I can’t keep doing this to you. I can’t let you hold my hand in yours anymore.” he says as he stops in front of you, trying his best to refrain from spilling more tears but it’s merely impossible. His biggest fear is coming into fruition, he’s losing you. He’s letting you go. He wanted to let you out of this mess before it was too far gone for you to come back to life. You gave him all of your best self and your endless empathy. 

“What are you saying, Lan?” you barely let out as a whisper, afraid of the answer. 

“I’m letting you go. I know I’m gonna sound like an asshole but I have to do this. All this shit is just gonna hurt you more. You can’t do this to yourself. It’s killing me to know I’m just bringing you down with me.” he practically pleads. 

“I stay because I want to, not because I feel forced to or like I have to. I do it because I love you.” your voice cracks with the last bit. 

“I’m sorry for all this. I care about you a lot and I hope everything goes well. I hope you get everything you could ever want. I’m sorry for all the mess.”

“Don’t be sorry. You are worth all of the shit. But can you please let me stay?” you beg through tears.

His lips are quivering, tear stains paint his face as he breaks himself in two. Cause truthfully, you will always hold a part of him. Through all the obstacles and shit, you stuck by him. 

“Goodbye, y/n.” is all he says before he turns his back on you, walking out the door. 

He didn’t even wait for your response, leaving as soon as he could because he knew if he stayed any longer, he wouldn’t have followed through with the breakup. 

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, in the middle of your living room. You had to watch the person you thought you would marry, walk out the door. You thought he was your forever. You shared your dreams with each other, planned out the house you two would grow old in. The house where you would have rocking chairs on the front porch where the two of you would watch the neighborhood kids run by, yelling at them to stay off the lawn. What dreams those were, dreams that would remain just that, dreams. 

For a while after the breakup, all you did was lie in bed either sleeping the days away or doom scrolling on social media. It got so bad that your roommate/best friend had to physically drag you out of bed after a week of letting you rot in it.

The first day of what your best friend liked to call “post breakup, glow up”, you guys decided to just have a self care day where you took it easy and ordered in food and did face masks while coloring in some books. 

It was fun and a nice distraction until your phone dinged. The look on your face scared your best friend so she looked over your shoulder to see who it was. Lando’s name was displayed along with a message, “Hey, how you been?”. 

Was this how exes interacted after a breakup? Typically after the breakups you’ve experienced, there was no contact. What’s Lando up to? You knew he didn’t keep in contact with any of his exes after their break ups, so why was he texting you? 

When you snap back to reality, your friend is giving you a concerned look, wanting to know what was going through your head so she could help in the best way possible. 

“Should I text him back?” You asked.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, babe. He still hurt you towards the end of the relationship, although not intentionally, but it still fucked you up a bit. I don’t want you to lose the progress you’ve made.”

“Yeah, I understand. I won’t text him back then.” You tell her as you turn off your phone and throw it to the side, picking up your marker and starting coloring again. 

You lied. You ended up texting him back later that night once you were back in bed, ready to end the night with what hopefully would be a decent sleep. 

You and Lando exchanged a few texts, mainly just catching up and seeing how the other was. You weren’t gonna lie, it felt nice to talk to him again. But what was this gonna lead to? Hopefully getting back together, but what are the odds? 

The occasional text conversations took place over the course of a few weeks. Lando knew he shouldn’t have been texting you, but he couldn’t help himself. The weeks following the break up, he went back and forth on whether he regretted it or not. He wondered if it was the best thing to do. 

Every day, he saw you in everything he saw or did. When he goes to get coffee, he swears he can still hear you laughing at the mustache of foam that would appear on his face after his first sip of coffee. 

When he’s outside in the park for a run, he’s reminded of you when he sees the rabbits hiding in the bushes. You always used to squeal out of joy and cuteness from the rabbits, even if you’d already seen them about 20 times prior. 

Every song, every film, every color reminded him of you. He thought about you every single day, wondering what you were doing and how you were. He even went as far as stalking your Spotify profile. He knew you made playlists for everything and he would watch your listening activity to see what mood you were in. 

He wasn’t surprised when he saw you listening to Taylor Swift and Gracie Abrams for hours on end. Those two were your go to sad girls. But he was surprised when none of the songs were about how shit the guy was. All the songs you were listening to were about regretting breakups and just missing someone. 

The night he texted you for the first time since the breakup, he had been gaming with Max and a few of his other friends, trying to take his mind off things. 

He didn't know what he texted you, he just did. He didn’t even have a plan for what he wanted to say. It turned out all right in the end though. You guys had a peaceful conversation and shared a laugh or two, for which he was grateful. 

Maybe you guys could remain friends? 

-=+=-

Liked by alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris, and others

y/n_l/n i’m on my knees at the altar, baby

Asking God to wash you from my soul

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User4 he’s a waste of running mascara, you’re on to greater things 

alexandrasaintmeux the most beautiful girl in the world

User97 ummm, what’s lando doing in the likes?! Didn’t they break up…

User23 she was a fool for thinking she could be enough for him

User10 lando leave the poor girl alone, you’ve done enough damage 

-=+=-

Everytime he texted you, you came back. He’d ask to try again and you’d say yes. You’d come back to his place and spend nights there, only for him to break things off again. He keeps saying he can fix it and do better. But then he sends you on your own again. He keeps telling you how much he loves you, only to tell you he’s not good enough for you and that you should break up, again. 

For two months, the two of you went back and forth. You would break up one week then get back together the next. It felt like a game that you kept losing and you were tired of it. 

It felt like you were always taking one step forward and two steps back. Now you know, none of this is fair to you. You keep trying to give him your all, trying to be there for him when he needs it but he still doesn’t change. 

You know you’re not falling out of love for him. But you think you have to fully let him go now. Do what he did to you to protect you, but actually block him out after. Instead of stringing him along like he did to you. 

It’s a week before the Belgium GP so it’s now or never. 

You asked Lando to meet you in your shared hotel room as the Hungarian GP just ended earlier. He’d gotten P2 which is amazing. But he still wasn’t entirely happy with his performance as he thinks he could’ve done better. The team thinks he should’ve gotten P1 and that it would’ve helped gain more points for the championship. 

You would’ve preferred to pick a better time to do this, but there is no other time, at least anytime soon. But you don’t want to be stuck here forever, in this loop of false hope. 

When Lando gets back to your shared room, he finds you sitting on the edge of the bed, picking at the skin on your fingers. 

“Hey, stop doing that. It’s not good for you.” He gives you a smile as he takes off his shoes and meets you in the bed. As he sits next to you, he lands a kiss on the top of your head and then a kiss on your cheek before finally connecting your lips with his in a sweet, warm kiss. 

“You said you wanted to talk to me about something? What’s up? Everything alright?” He asks, a bit of concern laces his words. 

You take a deep breath and sit up straight, trying to gain the courage to follow through with your plan.

“I can’t do this anymore.” You say. Lando’s heart drops at your words. 

“What’d you mean?” He stutters a bit.

It takes everything in you to look him in the eye as you say “I’m breaking up with you, for good.”

“Oh.” Is all that comes out of his mouth. He’s turned his body forward, staring blankly at the wall as he processes this.

“I’m sorry, Lando. But it’s not fair to either of us. We keep stringing each other along. Hoping for something that’ll never happen. I’m tired. It feels like I’m the only one fighting for us.” 

Lando suddenly sucks in a breath of air, furrowing his eyebrows and turning his body to you before telling you “no”

“No? Lando, what do you mean no?”

“No, we’re not breaking up again.”

“You can’t just say no. I’m- I’m making this decision for the both of us. For our best interest, we have to break up.”

“No, I’m not having it. I’m not doing it. It’s you and me til the end.”

“Lando, please can we ju-“

“Nope.”

You sit there dumbfounded at what’s happening. Is he refusing a breakup like it’s a piece of fish? 

You sit there and stare at him for a hot minute before crossing your arms and asking “why?”

“Cause”, is all he says before he stands up and goes to take a shower. 

Ain’t no way. 

You’re so confused and amazed at what just happened. He really just denied a breakup. 

As Lando took his shower, you took this time to process what happened and how to go about this conversation again once he comes back. 

After about 15 minutes, Lando leaves the bathroom in fresh clothes and stands in front of you, “what’d you want for dinner?” 

“Did you disregard my breakup speech?” You stand and ask.

“Yes. Now, where’s the room service menu?” He asks as he pads around the room, genuinely looking for the room service menu. 

You bring your hands to your face and roughly rub your eyes to try and approach this correctly. 

“Lando, stop thinking about the menu for 5 seconds and look at me.”

He’s stopped dead in his tracks and looks at you innocently. 

This guy. 

His bottom lip begins to quiver and his eyes become glossed with tears. 

With a bit of rasp in his voice he tells you “We’re not breaking up. I can’t lose you again, I won’t do it. You’re the best thing I’ve ever had and pushing you away was awful. I missed your laugh, I missed your jokes, I missed your loose hairs all around the flat, I missed your snoring when I tried to sleep, I missed you. Please don’t go again.” 

Tears are streaming down his face as he begs you to stay. 

“Lando, we can’t keep doing the same shit over and over again. We break up one week then get back together the next. You tell me you’ll do better and you’ll fix things but nothing changes. You’re still under immense stress and letting people walk all over you. I don’t know how we can survive this anymore if you don’t try to change that.” 

You start to wonder if breaking up really is the best solution. You would still be sad about losing him and you would still constantly worry about him. He would still be stuck in this toxic place where everyone puts all their expectations on him. Everyone would still harass him and analyze his every move. What would breaking up really fix? 

“Please. I’m standing here trying to be honest. We’re a thousand miles away from the day that we started, and I’m still in love with you. I just wanna forget everything that’s come and gone cause I hate not being with you. The stars don’t shine as bright when you’re not here.”

Slowly, you walk up to him, reaching for the sides of his face and using your thumbs to wipe away some of his tears. He instinctively moves his hands to your hips, holding you as tight as he can, as if you’re water in his hands. You look him in the eyes and realize you love him too much to let him go. You two love each other too much to leave it like this. 

“Hey,” you say softly, “why don’t we do this? The Belgian GP is next week, right? You’ll go do that and I’ll go home for a bit. After the Belgian GP, I’ll meet you in Glastonbury, yeah? We’ll spend your break there and we’ll try and sort out whatever’s going on up here?” You ask as you gently tap the side of his head. 

All he can do is smile, grateful for you and your patience with his shit. He nods his head yes before pulling you closer and holding you tight, burying his face into your neck. 

With a deep breath, you feel Lando relax in your arms. 

“Thank you.” He whispers in your neck. He can’t believe he’s able to keep someone as special as you in his life, even with the war in his head. 

“We’ll be alright. We’re okay”, you don’t say anything else, just holding him closer, knowing it’s enough for him right now. Maybe you two could try to go back where you started. 

Lando booked a flight from Belgium to go back to his hometown almost immediately after the race. He just couldn’t bear being away from you for so long, especially after all the shit you guys have been through, especially after all the shit he put you through. 

You decided that since he’ll be landing quite late, the two of you would spend the night watching movies and eating some home cooked food. The beginning of the healing journey could start tomorrow. 

When he landed at the airport, he was greeted by you with a massive sign that said “Lando Norris - STD clinic emergency shuttle”. 

The amount of laughs that the sign got was a joy to you. Especially the laugh Lando had let out upon reading the sign. He knew you were gonna pull some shit like this, although he was surprised you didn’t wear scrubs to add to the bit. 

With a big warm hug, Lando finally felt like he could start to relax and let go, at least until the next race. 

The two of you made your way to your car, then headed back to a secluded airbnb that you had rented for the next few weeks. Although the two of you were more than welcome to stay with Lando’s family, the pair of you thought it would be best if Lando had a place with some real peace and quiet to be able to sort through his mind. 

During the drive to the airbnb, you put on a playlist that you had made for drives with Lando at the beginning of your relationship. It had been a while since you’d played it, so it was a pleasant surprise for him when he realized what playlist was playing after a few songs. 

“I forgot about this playlist. Missed it." He gives a soft smile. The one he used to have before all the chaos had been inflicted. You can tell this little break will definitely bring back at least a small piece of your Lando. 

“I did too. Found it the other day when I was clearing my playlists. I added a few more songs as well. I know we usually pick the songs for this playlist together but I thought it’d be nice. Hope you don’t mind.” you tell him, wondering if maybe he’d be upset that you messed with the playlist without him. 

“Nah. I like it. Like a bit of a surprise for me.” he says as he shrugs his shoulders. You smile as you look at him for a moment. Your boy is coming back to you, slowly but surely. 

“Oh, don’t speed here. There’s always this one fucking guy sitting in a corner, ready to give anyone and everyone a ticket.” he tells you as you turn onto a certain street. 

“You know every road in this county, don't you?” you tease, watching as he gets a bit shy. 

“Yeah, let’s just say he may or may not love to see me coming. He used to catch me speeding all the time and he gave me too many fucking tickets.” 

You just sit there and laugh at him. Of course the Formula 1 driver always gets caught speeding. 

Once you pull into the driveway for the airbnb, Lando is smiling, already getting out of the car and closing his eyes, breathing in the fresh air and taking it all in. He’s excited and grateful for this break from the races. As much as he does enjoy the actual racing, all the other factors were pushing him to his breaking point. The sun was collapsing but he didn’t realize until everything came crashing down all at once. 

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when you close the car door. He starts moving to the trunk of the car to pull out his luggage. You wait by the front of the car, watching him roll his way to you and taking your hand in his as he leads you to the door of the house. 

The second you unlocked the door and opened it, Lando ran in like a kid and immediately dropped all his belongings before flopping onto the couch. 

Yup, that’s my man. 

“You like it? Out of all the rentals available, I thought this one was the best. It’s a bit far from everything and there’s a hiking trail not far.” you tell him, walking to the kitchen to prepare dinner. 

Lando is rolling on the couch as if he were a dog trying to get into a comfortable position. His head pops over the back of the couch to look at you, “Yeah, seems quite cozy. Thanks for this, darling. I know I don’t really deserve you but I’m really grateful that you’ve given me so many chances.”

“Don’t thank me, love. I love you and I want you to be okay,” his cheeks blush at your words. It’s been a while since you’ve called him ‘love’, “Put something on the tv and lie down for a bit while I prepare dinner, yeah?” 

“You sure I can’t help you? I can peel a potato or something… okay maybe nothing as advanced as peeling a potato but I can boil noodles or something.” he chuckles a bit. 

“Gorgeous, last time you tried to boil noodles, you burnt the water. I still don’t know how you managed that.” you couldn’t contain your laugh at the memory. It was one of your first dates with Lan and he’d wanted to make you a home cooked meal. Take out ended up being delivered. 

“Yeah, alright. We’re watching Hannah Montana.” he said as he flopped his back against the couch. 

When dinner was cooked, you and Lando plated the food before moving to sit on the floor in the living area, using the coffee table to eat off. 

The two of you continued watching Hannah Montana until the episode where Blue Jeans became ill. Lan immediately changed the show to play the movie rather than the tv series.

“Lan, you do know Blue Jeans recovers at the end of the episode, right?” 

“Yeah but he still has to go through the traumatic experience of being bitten by that snake and I just can’t. We’re gonna watch the Hannah Montana movie now and slow dance to ‘Crazier', cry to ‘Butterfly Fly Away’, and dance to ‘You Can Always Find Your Way Back Home’.” he tells you sternly. He's made up his mind and nothings gonna change that. So that’s just what you do. 

When Taylor Swift appears on the screen and starts singing ‘Crazier’, Lando jumps up off the floor and leans his body towards you, holding his hand out for you to take. Once you place your hand in his, he pulls you swiftly off the floor, pulling your body close to his. You wrap your arms around his neck while his hands are secured on your waist. The two of you swing your bodies slowly and effortlessly to the melody that’s playing in the background. 

When the lyric “you lift my feet off the ground.” Lando does exactly that. He’s gripped your waist and lifted you in the air, bringing a squeal out of you as you were not expecting that. He keeps you above him as you let out a fit of giggles. Once your feet land back on the ground, you fall into Lando, trying to catch your breath. You listen to his heartbeat and hold him tight. He really is your favorite person. 

In true Lando fashion, he knows all the words to this song. As he should since he decided it was one of your songs a while ago. You watch as he sings the words to you, and you realize just how truly in love you are with the person in front of you. You would wait forever for him. He’s the closest to heaven you’ll ever be. 

Once the song ends, the two of you sit back down and continue watching the movie. You were cuddled up to Lando, wrapping yourself around his arm as he rested his head on yours, occasionally leaving soft kisses. 

The beginning chords of ‘Butterfly Fly Away’ play and Lando is already in tears. He’s already buried his head into your shoulder as he sobs about how emotional the song is. “He was always there for her. He tucked her in and turned out the light. He had to do it all alone!” 

All you could do to comfort him was hold him close to you and rub his back. You hummed along to the song, Lando loved it when you did that. You never sang in front of him, but when you did, it was like God's greatest gift to him.  

The end of the movie was near as the opening chords of ‘You’ll Always Find Your Way Back Home’. The two of you were already on your feet, ready to dance and sing along. Lando had even pushed some of the furniture out so that there was more room for dancing. 

With some crazy moves and a whole lot of jumping around, you and your love had the time of your lives. 

Lando is pointing at you when he sings the lines “‘Cause, when I’m feeling down, and I’m all alone, whoa, oh. I’ve always got a place where I can go.” singing completely off key but who cares, he’s having fun, and so are you. 

When the song comes to an end, you’re in Lando’s arms, trying to catch your breath again. But it feels impossible when everytime you look at him, he takes your breath away. The most beautiful man ever is yours? Crazy, really. 

You stay in his arms for a moment, looking into those eyes that looked like sunlight was filtering through leaves. 

“Home.” he breaks the silence, smiling down at you wholeheartedly. He cocks his head to the side before continuing, “You’re my home.” 

It took everything in you not to break down into a puddle of tears at that moment. 

Instead, you bring your lips to his, connecting them in a sweet, soft exchange. 

After putting the furniture back in place and cleaning the dishes from dinner, you lead Lando to the room you’ll be sharing during this little vacation. 

After a quick shower, Lando meets you on the bed, almost collapsing onto it due to the exhaustion he’s been in. 

There’s no need to exchange any words at this moment. You just pull Lando into you, watching as he rests his head on your chest and wraps his arm around your waist. You scratch the back of his neck, messing with his curls a bit as your other hand draws patterns on his bare back. 

After a minute, you feel Lan relax into you, watching as his breathing becomes shallow and steady. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep and you're thankful. He truly does need sleep, especially for the talk you two will have in the morning. 

You follow suit with Lando and fall asleep soon after him. It was the best sleep you’d had in ages. 

The sun shines through the thin, cotton curtains that cover the windows. Lando’s chest is warm against your back, his arm wrapped around your torso, keeping you close to him. The steady breathing lets you know he’s still sound asleep. You check the time, reading 7:24 am. It’s still a bit early so you decide to get some breakfast prepared for when Lando wakes up. 

You slowly and quietly move out of his arms, careful not to wake him as you know he won’t stay in bed if he knows you aren’t next to him. Once you’re out of bed, you brush your teeth and 

make your way to the kitchen. 

Breakfast is kept simple, just some overnight oats with some fruit and honey. After a few minutes of washing and cutting some fruit, you watch as Lando emerges from the bedroom, sleep lacing his features. 

“I didn’t hear you leave the bed.” he frowns at you. 

“Sorry, darling. I knew you were tired and I didn’t want to wake you so soon. But your timing is perfect! I've just finished preparing breakfast.” you smile gleefully, presenting him with a beautiful bowl of fruits and oats. 

The smile on his face is enough to brighten the whole room. “Thanks, baby. Looks amazing, as always.”, he walks around the kitchen counter to kiss you. 

Once he’s sat down and begun eating, you tell him your plan for the day, or his plan. 

“I was thinking we could go on that hiking trail I told you about. Getting some fresh air and some sun could be good for you. We could also talk a bit? About everything?”

You can tell he’s a bit uncomfortable from the way he stiffens when you mention wanting to talk. He was never really one for talking about himself and the things he’s struggling with. He much prefers listening but he knows he has to let you in a bit. 

Without looking up at you, he responds, “Yeah. Sounds good.” continuing to stuff his face with his oats. 

Once you two had finished breakfast, you put on your shoes and made your way to the hiking trail. 

During the beginning of your walk, you decided it would be best to get Lando to feel comfortable before jumping into the whole discussion of him and his mental health. So you begin by asking, “So, Tarkov, how have you been doing in it?”

He looks at you with genuine surprise, wondering why the fuck you’re asking about Tarkov when he knows it’s not your type of game. But, he answers anyway, “Erm, it’s turned into more shit and giggles if anything. A lot of messing with Max and them. Oh, the other day I stabbed Max’s character in the leg cause he stabbed my foot. And then I stabbed him again but his game was glitching so he couldn’t heal. He was actively dying and couldn’t stop it so I shot his guy. Let’s just say he wasn’t exactly joyful about that. But in my defense, he would’ve died anyway. It was a mercy kill.” he laughs to himself. 

After almost 45 minutes of walking, you guys stumbled upon a nice lake that was surrounded by trees. There was a shore with some large boulders so you led Lando there for a bit of a break from walking. 

You two sat there for a moment before you broke the silence to try and talk to him. 

“You know I love you right?” you ask him, watching him look down at his hands and start to fiddle them. 

“Yeah.” he responds quietly. 

“I want you to be okay, Lan. I can see you being torn apart by everyone and everything. I don’t want to watch you fall because you don’t deserve that.” “It’s hard, being me. I know I should be happy for everything that I have. I mean, I have money, a house, so many fucking cars that I don’t need, a loving family, and the most amazing and beautiful girlfriend. But, it feels like I’m drowning in everything with racing.” - he confesses, his tone is low, matching the way his reality makes him feel so small.

You scooch closer to him, taking his hand in yours, “I know it’s been hard. And you have the right to feel the way you do. You’re the person who gets the most shit right now with the media. They’re all twisting shit to fit their narrative. But you need to keep pushing back, don’t let them walk over you anymore.” “My mind is complicated. But when you’re here, next to me, it quiets a bit. I know that when I’m with you, everything is easy, like a million things can be thrown at me, but at the end of the day, if you’re here, I’ll be okay. I know I sort of broke you, someone I love so much. It’s all me, in my head. I burned us down and I’m sorry I did that to you. I don’t wanna lose you.” “You’ll never lose me, Lan. I’ll keep your hand in mine, until we’re food for the worms to eat, til our fingers decompose. This love of ours isn’t temporary. So I’m not gonna give up on us, on you.” - your hand touches the side of his face, bringing him to meet your eyes before you continue, “I’m still yours, even when you lose your mind and try breaking up with me a million times. None of this is your fault. You’re all I want.”

Tears begin to stream down his face as he leans his forehead against yours, “I just want you to know who I am, outside of the racing and the drama. I don’t want them to see me, just you, cause you’re the only one who understands me.”

You lift his chin so he can look in your eyes again as you say, “I know who you are. You’re the best thing that’s ever been mine, and I’m never letting you go again.”

-=+=-

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Tagged: y/n_l/n

landonorris baby, you showed me what living is for and i dont wanna hide anymore

Thank you for everything, my love. I wouldn’t be where I am without you 🧡

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User23 now wait a min ✋ how many chapters did i miss?

User54 i told y’all they were fine! No way a couple as in love as them would ever break up

User75 alexa, play ‘that should be me’ by justin bieber 🫠 User13 omg, and the taylor lyrics 😭 she loves taylor swift and he dedicated it to her 😭😭😭😭😭

[schrijverr]

What Do You Mean You’re Not Really Together?

Divergence from chapter 7 to chapter 17, where Buck tells Hen – and only Hen – about Eddie and Chris. Hen takes it to mean he is married for real and not ready to be out at work, so covers for him, as well as lend a listening ear. It’s only when Eddie joins the 118 that she figures out that they’re not married-married. Against her will, she gets caught up in the dumbassery that is Buck and Eddie’s marriage, causing them to confess early.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie, Henren

Warnings: implied/referenced homophobia, internalized homophobia, referenced ableism, referenced emotionally abusive parents, near death experience, minor character death mentioned.

~~~

Buck has been with the 118 for a few weeks already when he approaches Hen in the locker room. She was taking a short break after a noisy call, but was about to rejoin everyone when Buck comes to sit next to her.

She gives him a surprised look, not expecting the presence. Buck looks a little nervous too and she wonders what this is about. Hen has grown to like Buck, he’s not what she expected when he first came in, in a good way, so she’s a little worried what he could be nervous about.

“Uh, so, how long have you and Karen been together? Were you guys already dating when you started working here?” Buck opens with a curve ball.

“…No, I met Karen through Chim, but I was dating my ex, Eva, when I started here,” Hen answers cautiously, unsure where this will go. In her experience, it’s rarely a good thing when her random guy coworkers want to talk about her relationships and she’d hate for Buck to disappoint like that.

“Oh, that’s cool, that’s cool,” Buck nods, more to himself. He’s quiet for a second, seemingly hyping himself up to say the next thing as Hen waits with dread, please, don’t offer a threesome. She’s about to graciously extract herself, when Buck says with faux-nonchalance: “So you were already out when you started? Or did you keep it to yourself?”

Tentatively Hen unclenches her butt muscles, halting her move to leave. This is taking another yet interesting turn. “I didn’t go back into the closet for my job here. Everyone has always known I’m a lesbian. Why the sudden interest?”

It’s a gentle prompt, which Buck is grateful for. He feels horridly awkward and he knows this conversation is going terribly. He just doesn’t know how to talk about it all. He’s never been good at keeping things to himself and ever since he let himself feel how much he loves Eddie, he’s been dying to share it with someone. However, the only person he shares things with is Eddie himself, which means that won’t work.

His solution has been to share it at work, but he knows his whole situation is a little weird with them not being together like that and him flirting and sleeping around. He doesn’t know if he wants to answer all the questions about it. It feels weirdly vulnerable to actually talk about his feelings for Eddie.

So, he picked Hen to open up to. Out of everyone there, she’s the person who is probably the most open minded about all this and, unlike Chimney, she can actually keep a secret.

Still, he flounders a little at how to answer her question, glancing around and hunching in on himself, before he blurts out: “Uhm, I’m kind of very much in love with my husband and I don’t want to get all the questions, but I also need to be able to talk to someone about it, but we just moved here and I don’t have any friends outside work to talk to about this sort of stuff, unless you want to count Chris, but he’s six.”

Hen blinks a few times as she processes Buck’s word vomit. Firstly, husband, that’s a surprise on both the man and married front. Hen is embarrassed to admit that she let her own preconceptions get the better of her and didn’t peg Buck as a fellow queer. Nor as a married man. Her bad.

Secondly, Chris, who is six. Unless Buck is friends with a random six year old, Chris likely is their kid, making Buck a father. The way he is with kids on call and the ability to be mature suddenly make a lot more sense to her.

As for the rest, they have all long since learned Buck is a horrible liar and not great at keeping things to himself. He likes to share. For him to not be comfortable with being out while bursting with love for his husband must be torture. Hen feels for him, she wouldn’t survive if she couldn’t brag about her amazing wife to anyone.

Having parsed through all the information dropped on her, she gives Buck a kind smile, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been holding that in, huh?”

“A little yeah,” Buck flushes with embarrassment.

“Well, I’m here for you, if you feel the need to talk to someone,” she says. “The others will be too, but you don’t have to share if you’re not comfortable.”

“Thank you,” Buck smiles, not knowing how much hearing that would be a relief, until he did. He’s never been too open about himself and his sexuality, remnants of growing up in a household where being gay was okay, as long as it was other people being gay.

“Of course, we stick together.” Hen nudges him playfully. “Now, tell me about this husband of yours. Like, what’s his name?”

Eddie getting referred to as his husband sends a thrill to him and a giddy smile comes on his face involuntary. “His name’s Eddie. Eddie Diaz. We got married so I could adopt Christopher. He’s our son.”

Now that the dam has been breached, he continues on easily: “Eddie is an army medic, only came back to us four months ago. He got injured, so he’s still recovering. He doesn’t want to go back, but he hasn’t said what he wants to do after, but he’s probably going to be great at whatever he picks. He’s really smart and very nice. Not the most social and a little grumpy, but he’s so cute when he’s grumpy. He’s also cute when he smiles. God, the way he smiles when he’s playing with Chris.”

Buck actually has to stop himself from squealing, burying his blushing face in his hands, before he says with a muffled voice: “One of these days I’m going to die of an Eddie Diaz induced heart attack.”

Hen giggles a little at that. Buck sounds like a middle schooler with a crush and it’s kind of adorable, if she’s honest. “He sounds like a catch.”

“He is, I don’t know what I did to end up married to him honestly,” Buck groans. “He’s so handsome and so oblivious to the fact that he’s handsome. And he’s such a bitch, but in the best way. Like the way he stands with his hands on his hips? Kill me.”

Of course Buck’s husband would be a little mean, Hen thinks to herself, though she doesn’t share that with Buck. Instead she phrases it a little differently. “Sounds like the two of you balance each other out.”

“We do,” Buck smiles automatically. “We have each other’s backs, you know.”

Hen coos at that, but before she can say more, Chimney calls out: “What are you two whispering about over there?” startling them both.

Buck gives her wide eyes, knowing that he can’t come up with a believable lie. So, Hen does it for them, calling back: “We’re trying to conspire to steal your dinner pick spot to convince Bobby to make the nice lasagna.”

“First of all, that is so rude, I can’t believe my own friends are turning against me like that. Second of all, neither of you have even had the decency to try to convince me to pick the nice lasagna,” Chimney starts an offended rant, effectively ending the conversation the two of them were just having and shelving the topic.

Hen keeps quiet about it for the whole rest of their shift, since they don’t get a moment alone again, but she doesn’t forget. That night, she sits on her own couch with a mug of tea and says: “You never guess what Buck told me today.”

“Buck? That’s the new probie guy, right?” Karen asks. “The frat boy, who was better than expected?”

“Yeah, him,” Hen says. “He asked about how long we’d been dating and if we’d already been dating when I started working there.”

“Oh no,” Karen grimaces.

“That’s what I thought,” Hen exclaims. “But, as it turns out, married. Super married. And so in love with his husband he nearly burst apart with it.”

“Husband?” Karen gasps. “Really?”

“Uh-huh,” Hen nods. “Apparently he’s not comfortable being out, so you can’t tell Chimney, but he needed to tell someone. He’s a bit of an over-sharer, so I don’t know how he kept it to himself. They just moved here, so he doesn’t have anyone other than Eddie – that’s the husband’s name – to talk to it about it. He probably figured I’d be safe.”

“Ahw that’s adorable,” Karen coos. “A baby gay on the force.”

“I doubt he’s a baby gay, seeing as they have a six year old together,” Hen snorts.

“Wow, he’s a dad?” Karen says, a little shocked. “Isn’t he still a kid himself, you said he was twenty-five, right? That’s a teen parent. That must be rough.”

“Yeah, I suppose he is,” Hen says thoughtfully, she hadn’t even done that math yet. “But he said he adopted Chris and I don’t know how long they’ve been married or how old Eddie is, might be a bit of an age gap.”

“You didn’t ask!?” Karen exclaims. She loves office gossip and speculating right alongside Hen about their colleagues, it’s a way they bond.

“Chimney interrupted before I could,” Hen defends herself. “Besides, I’m not sure if I should push or let him come to me with information. I mean, he clearly didn’t want to be out at work, he just didn’t have another place to go. And you know how annoying it is when people feel entitled to information about how you got your child, since he’s not biologically yours.”

Karen groans, collapsing against the couch cushions petulantly. “Ugh, I hate it when you’re right. But you’ll tell me if he says something, right?”

“Of course, this is the best thing that happened to the 118 since Bobby became Captain,” Hen says.

In the end, it doesn’t come up again until a few shifts later when Buck is pocketing the number of a cute looking blonde with a smile, giving her a little wave as she leaves.

“What do you do with all those numbers? Do you just throw them away?” Hen is suddenly next to him asking that. She can get flirting with girls to cover the gay, but the amount Buck does seems a little excessive, not to mention that she’s seen him give out his own number too.

“No?” Buck frowns. “Sometimes I use them. That’s usually why you ask and give out your number.”

Hen looks around to see if anyone is listening in, but no one is close. So the answer can’t have been about that. Confused, she frowns back: “What happened to being too in love with Eddie Diaz to function?”

“Oh,” a realization appears on Buck’s face and he flushes with embarrassment and shame. “Uhm, Eddie’s not into that,” not into me, he swallows painfully. “We have an open marriage. It’s not like I’m sneaking around behind his back,” just maybe flirting more when he can’t see so I seem like an option, he adds again mentally.

Ah, that makes sense, Hen thinks. Eddie is probably asexual and being polyamerous would add another layer to not wanting to share. The 118 is open minded and Hen has found a lot of acceptance in her current coworkers, but there are limits to what some straight, and even other queer, people can comprehend. She understands not wanting to push those limits as the new probie.

So, she nods and says: “Makes sense. Maybe keep it off the clock, though. I think Bobby is side eyeing you about it. It’s a little unprofessional.”

Buck turns to where Bobby is. Indeed he is watching the two of them with a calculating look, eyes also flicking to where the blonde disappeared. Buck blushes a little under the scrutiny. “Noted.”

Hen doubts he noted it, when he gets fired for fucking on the job a few weeks later.

Still, just because she thinks he’s a dumbass, doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel for him. It’s rough, to get fired like that and she wishes she could do something, but he did that to himself. And she knows that expression on Bobby’s face, he’s serious and set on taking this course of action, no matter how much they all hate to see it happen.

When she sees Buck sit all alone in the locker room, she can’t help but come over. In a mirror of that conversation a few weeks ago, Buck opens, this time more defeated than awkward. “I guess you heard?”

“Yeah,” Hen says with a sympathetic look. “For what it’s worth, everyone thinks it sucks.”

“It’s my own fault.”

Hen grimaces, though she does it with kindness. “Yeah, everyone thinks that too.” She pauses for a moment, then goes on: “I’ll be honest. When Bobby first brought you on board, I told him he should just get a Dalmatian instead. But you surprised me and I’m legit sorry to see you go. I can’t imagine this will be easy to explain at home.”

“No, Eddie’s going to kill me,” Buck sighs, before groaning and burying his face in his hands. “I’m such an idiot. I can’t lose this job. Eddie doesn’t have an income and Chris can’t go without insurance, he needs medical help.”

“Is he ill?” Hen asks, suddenly concerned.

“No, CP – cerebral palsy – he needs PT, crutches, glasses, support,” Buck explains. “We can’t afford all that without insurance. How am I going to explain to Eddie that I lost our kid his insurance?”

“And Bobby wasn’t sympathetic to that at all?” Hen can’t rhyme that with the Captain she knows.

“Bobby didn’t let me explain, didn’t even let me talk,” Buck says. “And even if he did, I doubt he’d believe me. I mean, you know what everyone here thinks of me. In a moment of desperation pulling out a whole family that no one knew about with a husband, who just happens to be okay with me sleeping with someone else? Yeah, right.”

He sounds so bitter yet also so anguished and sad. Hen has never heard him like that and it makes her gut churn.

Buck sighs again and rubs his face, before he turns to her, suddenly hopeful. “Hey, maybe- maybe you can talk to him for me. Tell him I need this job. He might listen to you. You can-”

Hen doesn’t have to come up with an answer, because the alarm starts blaring, interrupting Buck before he can even finish asking.

She’s grateful for that, because she isn’t sure what to say to that. She doesn’t know how to make his case for him. They all agree he fucked up, including Buck. Unless he can show that he is an asset, Bobby can’t justify giving him another chance and, like Buck said, Hen doesn’t know if he’ll go for the surprise family story.

Bobby comes to call her away. Though she sees him give Buck an almost apologetic helpless look. He also didn’t want Buck’s career to end like this.

She knows Bobby has taken Buck under his wing. He instated him as his sous chef, worked to get him into the fold, mentors him. Bobby likes Buck. They all do, but Bobby acts pretty paternal when it comes to their probie.

However, as stated before, Bobby can’t justify giving Buck another chance. Hen can make his case, but it won’t matter. Not unless Buck can prove himself, but he can’t prove himself without a second chance. A second chance he won’t get.

It makes her stomach turn sour and it tugs at her chest.

Yeah, Buck fucked up by sleeping with yet another woman on the clock, however, he doesn’t get to defend himself and plead his case, because his relationship makes him susceptible for discrimination and misunderstanding. He doesn’t get to ask for that extra chance he doesn’t necessarily deserve, but definitely needs.

Hen knows – she just knows – that if Bobby heard about Eddie and Chris, who rely on Buck’s income, that would be enough to justify that second chance to himself.

But she also knows why Buck didn’t try harder to fight for that chance to explain himself, why he took the shut down and rolled over. Why even now, Hen isn’t sure if he would like her to out him for that small chance at keeping his job.

She herself experienced that risk every goddamn day, when she chose to be out and paid the price under Gerrard. And even though Bobby is miles better, they can never know where his limits are and Buck’s relationship is harder to rhyme with Catholicism than Hen’s, no matter how stupid infighting and respectability politics are.

So, she twists and she turns, trying to figure out if she should say something when Bobby asks her what she and Buck were talking about. Keeping it vague, while also pressing home that he needs this job and sounded serious.

In the end, she gets her solution when her phone rings and Athena asks: “I need a favor. Think you can loan me a fire truck?”

As expected, Bobby doesn’t want to fire Buck and the second Athena can vouch for him, that is enough to justify it to himself again. Hen saw that relief in his eyes when she told him what she did.

The two of them watch Bobby walk away, Buck looking as if the tension has been sucked out of him in a good way. Still, he gets a bit of his nerves back when he asks Hen: “Do you think he put in the paperwork yet and I need to be rehired, because that could mess with admin stuff, right?”

“Don’t ask me, only Cap knows that, but I don’t think he filed it yet if he managed to fill it all out,” Hen answers, unsure if Bobby can still hear them and not seeing the need to risk it. “By the way, what were you going to say, before we got called away?”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter anymore now, just wanted to make my case, so you could make it to Bobby, but guess I did that for myself,” Buck replies, also sending a glance to Bobby’s back

Hen lets him have it, though she playfully threatens: “Shove off, probie. You’re still on thin ice. And you owe me for this. If I ever need a favor, I-”

“Yeah, of course, I got you,” Buck says immediately without hesitation. “Thank you so much, Hen, you’re the best.”

“I know,” Hen smirks, though a flush rises in her neck. She hip checks him and shoos him off: “Go on, get back in uniform.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am,” Buck grins widely, skipping off.

The next day, she finds a box of homemade cookies in her locker. The icing on top of them is messily done and Hen can recognize the helping hands of a child quite clearly. She doesn’t have to think twice before she knows who put them there.

Indeed, when she looks up, she catches Buck’s eyes and he mouths: “Thank you.”

Hen gives him a smile in return, before hiding the cookies so she doesn’t have to share, or explain why she has them. As she does, she gives Buck a wink that makes him snicker softly.

When she comes home after her shift, she shares the cookies with Karen after they put Denny to bed. It is the right of a parent to hide the good snacks and Buck, as it turns out, is an incredible baker. While they munch on the cookies, she gives her the update on the whole situation.

Karen is still the only person next to Hen, who knows anything about Buck’s mysterious life outside of work.

She wants Hen to organize a play date between Denny and Chris, so she can meet Buck – or better yet – Eddie for herself. Hen can admit she’s curious too, but she’s been slowly easing her way in towards that. She doesn’t want to scare Buck off with how on the fence he’d been. Still, she thinks she’s getting closer and closer into his circle of trust.

Then Chimney gets a rebar stuck through his head and the world tilts. Chimney has been her friend for so long that she has almost forgotten what it was like to not know him. Without him, she doubts she would have made it through Gerrard’s reign of terror. He’s her rock. Her best friend and main person outside of Karen.

Her, Bobby and Buck hold vigil next to his bedside, while Hen slowly loses her patience and drives Karen up the wall with her worrying.

She’s sitting in the hospital next to Chimney’s unconscious form once more when Buck comes to sit next to her, nudging her as he says: “What a coincidence, running into you here.”

Hen gives him a tired smile, before confessing: “I’ve been driving Karen crazy with my worrying, she said I should just go here to calm me down a bit.”

“Ah,” Buck nods understandingly. “Same, kinda. Eddie kicked me out and told me to go, I’ve been driving him up the wall too. He offered to come with, but I don’t know, I’d feel awkward introducing him to an unconscious Chimney.”

“That’s fair enough,” Hen says. “Karen’s staying with Denny right now. But she’s been keeping him company while we’re all on shift, so he won’t be alone.”

Buck gets a little choked up at that, but he manages: “That’s really sweet. Thank her from me?”

“I will,” Hen assures him. “But it’s not a hardship for her. Chim is her friend too.”

“Yeah, you mentioned you knew her through him?” Buck prompts.

A sappy smile come onto Hen’s face as she says: “I did. He set us up on a blind date, though he didn’t tell me about it. I thought he’d stood me up for our drinks, but, hey, I wasn’t going to tell the beautiful woman who’d just sat down at my table that I wasn’t her blind date. I only told her at the end of the night and then she thought she got stood up by her blind date, which is when we put together that I was the blind date all along. Chim was her neighbor.”

“Really? Matchmaker Chimney? Who would have thought?” Buck laughs.

“I know right,” Hen smiles. “He caught me on my walk of shame out the door once and all he did was laugh knowingly, before asking if I wanted to carpool.” Her smile turns more melancholic and fond. “I never had anyone just accept me like that.”

Buck nods quietly, he probably understands very well. He puts a comforting arm around her and tells her: “He’s going to wake up. He’s gonna be okay. Chim’s too stubborn to let this be the thing that takes him down. He probably thinks he’s going down in a blaze of glory with explosions in the background and a movie score playing, but I have my money on old age.”

That makes Hen chuckle and she wipes her eyes. “Thanks, Buck.”

“Course,” he says, holding her a little tighter.

Talking to Buck made her feel better, but there is still so much anger at the world, so much tension as she anxiously waits for Chimney to recover.

It comes out when they’re on the call where some asshole locked a bunch of human beings, who probably paid him too much money to smuggle them across the border to have a chance to chase the American dream, in a truck. Calls like these piss her off and right now, she’s already on edge.

She and Buck work together to bring back a young boy and she is glad Buck is doing the talking to the parents. She doesn’t have the brain capacity to try and remember her high school Spanish. It doesn’t even surprise her that he talks easily to them, marrying into a family called Diaz probably means he’s surrounded by Spanish more than she is.

Before she can comment on it, however, she is distracted by the driver, who she recognizes from his driver’s license. Taking him down is satisfying, but not as satisfying as she’d hoped.

What is satisfying and exactly what she needs, is Chimney waking up that evening. They’re all relieved when he seems to understand them and is capable of reacting to their input. It can still go horribly, horribly wrong, but there are positive signs. They need positive signs.

However, they find out the hard way that positive signs doesn’t mean the positivity will last. A plane crashes and Bobby almost gets himself killed to rescue a mom. Buck too.

After nearly losing Chimney, she wants to smack Bobby and Buck for risking their lives like that. But she has a job to do and it gives her the perfect opportunity to give them the cold shoulder while she focuses on her patients until she has gotten over her fear enough to appreciate the two of them made it out alive in the first place.

She finds Buck shivering and completely soaked, still doing his job. No one told this idiot he should at least try not to develop hypothermia and she shoves a blanket into his hands with only minor frustration, before going to wrap up at the scene.

With mass casualty events like this, she always wants to hear Karen, Denny too if possible, so she calls them in the rig back to the firehouse. Some of the others are doing the same thing.

As she listens, her eye falls on Buck, who is tucked into himself in the corner, staring out of the window with a sad, wistful look in his eyes. In his lap, there is his phone, curled loosely into his hand unused. He probably wants to call Eddie and Chris, but unlike Hen, no one knows he has a family at home waiting, so he can’t.

Her heart aches a little for him and when she sees his phone start to buzz, his eyes lighting up at the contact, she ushers everyone along a little quicker. He deserves to have some peace of mind too after today.

She runs into him coming out of the shower, while he is obviously moving toward it. His shoulder seem more relaxed and his face has lost the little frown. Still, he’s shivering and his lips are a little pale. Should he drive? “Are you okay, Buck?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he smiles, looking to mean it. “Just got offered a ride, which is great. My arms feel like they’re gonna fall off.”

Hen can relate to the feeling, though she still feels up for driving. She guesses Buck doesn’t after nearly dying on a crashed plane, so Eddie is coming to get him. “I hear you, I’m gonna sleep so hard when I get home. Want me to wait on your ride with you?”

Buck’s smile brightens at her offer, however he shakes his head. “Nah, I’m gonna shower real quick, Eddie should be here by then. Besides, we had a long day. Go home to your wife, Hen.”

At that, Hen hesitates. Buck is a grown man who can make his own choices, but she still worries for him. That worry is made worse by Chimney recently nearly dying and then Buck and Bobby nearly dying. For fucks sake, he’s still in his wet, sea-logged clothes.

However, she doesn’t feel like dragging all that up and dealing with that now, like Buck said, they had a long day. So she just says: “Alright. Goodnight, Buck.”

“Goodnight.”

After that goodbye, she watches Buck retreat into the shower for a moment. He looks steady on his feet and he held a good conversation, plus he is shivering , which means he’s not too cold yet. And he’s going to shower, warm up a bit, then put on dry clothes. Buck is going to be fine.

She tells himself, he’ll be fine as she makes her way to her car, repeats it when she gets in. She truly believes it too. And she probably would have driven away, if not for the small bit of nosiness that makes her curious about how the pick up will go.

So, she sits in her car in the parking lot and waits. Karen will probably forgive her for being a little late about this. She is worried about her friend. And collecting intell.

After a while, an unfamiliar, slightly beat up truck pulls into the parking lot of the 118 firehouse. In it is a young man, around Buck’s age. The famed Eddie Diaz. He is very handsome and she doesn’t think that often of men. It seems Buck hadn’t been exaggerating too much in his dramatic little spiel about his husband.

Eddie parks, then pulls out his phone, checking it, before putting it away again. He turns to the passenger seat, swiping his hand over it, before shaking his head to himself, as if he finds what he’s doing silly. Then he appears to turn the heating up, giving himself a satisfied nod.

He looks over at the firehouse, studying it with mild interest as he waits for Buck. His eyes periodically flick over to the entrance and Hen knows Buck must have appeared when Eddie’s face lights up with a smile.

Indeed, Buck is tiredly trudging over, throwing open the door without much grace and tossing his bag on the backseat, before he collapsing in the passenger seat. The exhaustion must be catching up to him, because he appears to let out a long groan. Hen feels her own lips quirk up right alongside Eddie’s at the dramatics.

Hen doesn’t know what is being said, but Eddie says something smugly, getting a half hearted glare from Buck as he replies. Eddie then retorts, making a face as if he’s mocking someone – probably Buck – as he moves to drive off.

Despite the bickering that has obviously started up, Hen knows it’s the fond kind. She can still remember Eddie’s care in getting the car ready for Buck and the way Buck smiled when he mentioned his ride. He seems to be in safe hands with Eddie.

With her worries soothed and her curiosity satisfied, Hen also turns on the ignition and pulls out of the parking lot.

What Hen hadn’t counted on in worrying about Buck, is that she should have been worrying about Bobby instead. The man has been in this line of work for so long and has cemented himself in Hen’s mind as a reliable Captain, who knows his limits.

However, he isn’t in for shift next time. Bobby is always there for his shift. In all her years under him, Hen can’t remember a day he missed for any other reason than being sick. And he always, always called in.

Finding Bobby the way they do is absolutely heartbreaking. He is in clear need of help, of someone to be there for him.

So they’re there for him. They check up on him after rough calls, reign him in when he snaps and sit with him in the quiet hours – though none of them will ever dare to use the word quiet.

Still, they don’t know anything about him, about why he started drinking and why he stopped. Bobby has a tight grip on his personal life, but Hen now learns that might be because he doesn’t have a personal life. Just a job.

She can’t imagine what that is like, what not having people to come home to is like. She probably wouldn’t have survived some of the things she saw these past few years if she couldn’t come home and kiss Karen or watch Denny smile.

However, it is incredibly frustrating to have him remain so closed off after asking for help. They’re trying to help, they want to help. But Bobby has to let them and he’s not letting them.

Buck is seemingly unaware of the tension between her and Bobby after she had to physically pull him away from the owner of that wedding venue, who used bad material. But she is very aware and Bobby is too.

The two of them are equally stubborn, locked into this tension, seeing who is going to break first. In the end it’s Buck, that breaks them both.

He’s laughing at that damn security footage of the carwash guy. He looks so happy, so joyous, it’s infectious. Both her and Bobby have to laugh too, it’s probably the first time they’ve laughed like that since Chimney got some rebar stuck through his head and it all went to shit.

It’s the power Buck has. He probably doesn’t even know it, but he brings them all together. It’s that youthful innocence he has, the thing that made it so surprising to Hen to find out he has a kid and a husband. It’s the kind of thing most people lose after life throws shit at them time and time again, but Buck never did. It makes you want to stick by him, makes you want to make it work.

So, they all laugh at this poor guy spinning in circles and when they’re outside again, Hen tries again to break through to Bobby and this time, Bobby lets her. It’s a first step.

The second step is planning Chimney’s welcome back party, which she takes very seriously, enlisting Buck’s help. It’s a very serious operation and most give her a wide berth, but Buck matches her energy easily. Though she makes a mental note not to hand him a clipboard again.

On their shift, they find themselves brainstorming ideas. They have been banished from the upstairs table and have instead set up shop on the back of the open ambulance, sitting side by side as they bounce ideas off one another.

When a quiet moment falls, Buck looks around, before asking: “Uh, do you and Karen do children’s birthday parties for Denny? Like just his friends?”

“We do,” Hen answers, easily clicking together why Buck is asking. “Is Chris’s birthday coming up?”

“Yeah,” Buck says sheepishly at being perceived so quickly. “We, uh- we haven’t done that kind of party before and we really want this party to be a good one.”

“I get that,” Hen nods. “New city jitters about organizing or were the others a disaster?”

“Mix of both,” Buck says honestly. “I wasn’t there for his third birthday, but Eddie was still on tour on his fourth and Shannon – his mom – had walked out on him around his fifth and then during his sixth Eddie was on tour again. So, he has a bad luck streak about people missing it. And it’s the first time we’re doing this without Helena – Eddie’s mom – trying to take over the planning.”

Hen’s heart aches a little at that. It can’t have been easy for Chris, his parents missing so much. Plus, it’s news to her that Chris’s mom left. She knew Eddie was the biological father, but she had half assumed there was some sort of custody with the mom or that there was an agreement to let Eddie have full custody, but this makes it sound like she abandoned her son.

She also mentally files away that Buck had been in the picture for two years before that happened. She wonders if he got married to Eddie after Shannon left to fill the void she left, since he did mention getting married so he could adopt Chris. Or if that had been a natural par of the course. Being together for fours years isn’t nothing. He could have recently married Eddie.

However, she can’t focus on any of that right now. Buck started this conversation to ask for help getting Chris a good party and after hearing that, she can’t not help.

“Was Helena a welcome help?” she asks, because if she was, then Hen can ask what she did and offer to do it in her place.

Buck’s vehement shake of the head tells her enough, but he confirms by saying: “Oh definitely not. I don’t want to come across as that classic guy that hates his mother-in-law, but no. Her help was very much not welcome.”

Hen can feel her eyebrows rise up at the strong words. It’s not that she doesn’t trust Buck’s judgment, because he isn’t the kind of guy to talk behind people’s backs and not try to see the good in people, but she knows how in-laws can get on your nerves.

It’s just because you see all the little things that make the person you love shrink in on themselves, all the little habits that have grown between them that they don’t see, but you do. So she thinks Buck’s perspective might be warped, causing her to sound a little skeptical when she asks: “That bad?”

“She calls Chris ‘special,’ which is her upgrade from ‘fragile.’ It’s a battle to get her to treat him like a kid and not a baby and that’s not even mentioning her hatred for my existence and the way she talks about Eddie’s parenting. Or Eddie’s choices in general,” Buck grimaces.

Immediately she cringes when Buck mimics the tone his mother-in-law uses when she says special. It is something she hears here and there from parents when they go on medical calls and it always sets her teeth on edge.

Then it somehow gets worse when Buck explains how she views him and Eddie. With that start, she didn’t think it would get worse. “Oh, homophobic?”

“Very,” Buck replies. “But at least she was willing to get past the whole married to a man thing to help when Eddie was on tour, though I think that was because she thought she’d have a better chance at taking custody of Chris that way.”

He sounds so casual about it and it breaks Hen’s heart. The possibility of losing custody is a terrifying thing and the fact that it’s the grandmother trying, when Hen cannot imagine a world wherein Buck doesn’t love that kid to death – and probably wouldn’t marry anyone who didn’t feel the same – makes it so much worse.

And the fact that he tries to give her credit for the fact that she’s ‘willing to look past the whole married to a man thing’ makes her blood boil. It also makes her realize that she’s never heard Buck about his own family, he vaguely mentioned Eddie’s tía and abuela once, but never his own. The realization makes a her gut churn.

She goes for a more nonchalant tone than she feels when she asks: “Would your parents not be able to look past it?”

Buck blinks for a second, as if he hadn’t even thought about that before. Then his face shutters closed and he fails at acting like it doesn’t bother him as he says: “Oh, I don’t know, it was always okay for others to be gay, we just didn’t do that. But they’d probably think I’m making the biggest mistake of my life regardless, letting myself get dragged down by a teen parent, even though I was already twenty-three when I met Eddie and started helping out with Chris full time. I wouldn’t know though, haven’t spoken to them in years.”

It’s the kind of story she’s heard a million times before and she wishes they’d stop, but alas, the world isn’t like that yet. Her own mom thought she was making a mistake when she married Karen, they’re in a better place now, but she can still remember that hurt.

The fact that Buck hasn’t spoken to them since before meeting Eddie and that he seemingly never even considered of informing them or having them know, says a lot about their relationship.

Wanting to do something, but knowing she can’t just undo things like this, she slings her arm around his shoulder and pulls him into her side, saying: “If they did think that, they wouldn’t know what they’re talking about. You’re not making a mistake, Buck. It’s never a mistake to be gay.”

“I’m bi,” Buck tells her.

Hen isn’t even bothered by his clear lack of knowing how to reply to that, so she just snorts: “That’s okay too.”

He lights up at that and Hen squeezes him again before letting go. It became a heavier topic than expected and she clears her throat, before she says: “But kid’s birthday party.”

“Yes, uh-huh, birthday party,” Buck nods, looking glad for the way out. “Chris likes science and animals. I’m thinking something themed, but I don’t know how to go about it. We didn’t do kid’s birthday parties growing up.”

Hen imparts as much knowledge as she can to Buck from her own experience throwing kid’s birthday parties – even if Karen wields the spreadsheets when they’re planning like no other – and they even come up with a good idea for Chim’s welcome back party when talking about theme-ing and food; a custom cake of his head.

Chimney’s welcome back party goes well, the cake is done one time and everyone from the A and B shift is there. Athena shows up too. Everyone has a good time.

And Buck later reports, sneaking in a thankful hug, as does: “Chris’s party was a success. Thank you. Now just surviving the full moon tonight and then the family party with the in-laws this weekend, and then we’ll have made it through.”

“Oh, I’m so glad!” Hen hugs him back. Before asking: “Is that why you have that weekend off while we’re on shift?”

“Yeah, I contemplated skipping out, but I’m not going to do that to Eddie,” Buck says.

“Well, if you need a place to hide out from the in-laws, you can always hide out at mine. Karen won’t mind the company,” Hen smiles.

“That’s very sweet, thanks. But they’re only here for the weekend, I can survive until Sunday afternoon,” Buck says.

“Okay, but good luck anyway,” Hen jokes, making Buck laugh.

When Eva calls, Hen decides she needs a bit of that luck for herself. Because she feels that urge to come when Eva calls and she doesn’t know why she wants to help her, even though she’s done nothing to deserve that help. Wonders why she allows herself to come close to getting caught up in Eva’s plan all over again.

It’s as if a part of her is still that stupid naive young woman she was with her, who didn’t see that her own girlfriend was dealing, until she was face down on her own floor, cops yelling at her. That desperate young woman, who just needed Eva to look at her. As if she still needs her to just look at her.

She feels that urge to go, gets into her car and puts the address into her navigation. She’s about to drive off when she spots Buck in the parking lot, making his way to his car. He catches her eye and gives her a big smile, waving at her, before giving her a thumbs up.

Without any conscious input, she smiles back and gives him a thumbs up back. He survived the full moon, now just the weekend with his in-laws.

Suddenly it hits her, that she is about to not survive the full moon, that she is about to allow someone like Eva back into her life, in her family’s life. Buck still has to make it through the weekend with awful people, but Hen doesn’t have to do that. She can go home and kiss her wife, maybe even be on time to tuck in Denny.

That small broken part that just needs to be acknowledge by Eva, feels so small when she realizes what she has.

Hen turns on the ignition and drives home.

At home, Karen is in the kitchen making herself a mug of tea. No, she’s making two mugs of tea. One is for Hen, because she knew she’d be home soon. She turns around and smiles at her. “Full moon as crazy as you’d feared?”

“Crazier,” Hen says, letting out a relieved breath, she hadn’t realized she was holding. Then she surges forward and kisses Karen as passionately as she can.

When they break apart, Karen lets out a confused giggle, asking: “What was that for?”

“Just happy that I have you,” Hen answers. She doesn’t know how to put into words the last few hours of feeling, just that she is happy that Karen is there.

“You’re sure nothing happened at work?” Karen asks.

“Yeah. I’m sure,” Hen says. “Eva called.”

Karen tenses in her arms and her voice gets an odd tone as she replies: “Oh. And- And what did she want?”

“She wanted me to meet her,” Hen looks at the clock on the oven, “right about now.” She looks back at Karen and smiles. “I personally thought, I had better places to be.”

“Well, I do agree with that.” Karen perks up with a blush and a happy uptick in her voice, before leaning in and kissing Hen again.

After they tucked Denny in, the two of them spend the rest of the evening on the couch, yelling at trashy reality TV shows as they wrap themselves around each other. The next day, Hen catches up on house work, before heading in for her shorter shift on Friday.

Buck is a little tense all day. Hen clearly picks up on it, but she supposes that is because she knows he has a reason to be worried. All the others appear not to notice, until they’re done with their shift and Buck’s civilian clothes are nicer than the ones he usually leaves the station in. Not to mention the way he’s messing with his hair in the mirror.

Hen wants to give him some encouraging words, but it’s not the time. A fact that is exemplified by Chim, who stops as he walks by and asks: “Who are you cleaning up nice for?”

“No one,” Buck lies. Like, very clearly lies. It must be hard, trying to keep a secret like that when you’re that bad at lying.

To throw him a lifeline, Hen asks: “You have a hot date or something? Called back one of those numbers?”

“Ahhh,” Chimney waggles his eyebrows. “Spill. Come on. You can tell us. It’s not like we haven’t heard about your sex life in great detail, don’t tell me you’re shy when it comes to the dates.”

Buck’s pale skin clearly shows his bright blush and Hen can’t help but tease a little. She coos: “Ahw, he is shy,” causing that blush to deepen.

His watch seems to give him the out he needs, because after checking it, he says: “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Now, I have a hottie to pick up and I don’t want to be late,” before hightailing out of there, so they can’t ask more questions.

Hen decides to send him a text of support before going home. There is nothing more for her to do and unlike Buck, she only gets enough hours off to get some sleep in before she has to be right back.

Next to her, Chimney comments: “Didn’t he take the weekend off too? Lucky bastard is probably going to get laid.”

“Probably,” Hen snorts, amused at Chimney’s perception of Buck. She doesn’t blame him too much, without him coming out to her, she likely would have thought the same.

They don’t hear from Buck all weekend. Hen hopes that’s a good sign, but she feels apprehensive as they wait for Buck to come in when he’s joining them for their shift again. A feeling that gets proven right when she sees his slumped shoulders as he throws himself onto a chair.

Everyone picks up on it. Chimney speaks before she does, taking one look at Buck, before he whistles: “Oef, bad date?”

“You can say that,” Buck groans as he takes the mug of coffee Bobby offers him and slumps down over the breakfast bar.

Oh, that doesn’t sound good at all. Hen grimaces in sympathy, unsure what to do. If she didn’t know, she’d be nosing about, but she knows that he doesn’t want to talk about it and that he’s a horrible liar, so won’t be able to come up with anything.

“What happened?” When Hen doesn’t ask, Bobby does, sounding more concerned and less invested than she would have been, though a little bit of investment is still there anyway.

Hen sees Buck freeze for a split second, uncertainty in his eyes, before he quickly settles on: “The parents came by. They hate me.”

“That sucks,” Hen says gently, hoping he catches on to the comfort it’s meant to be. Going off the small smile he sends her, that message is received.

Chimney however, just raises his brow in surprise and a little offense. “That sounds serious.”

“I didn’t know you were seeing someone like that, why didn’t you mention it?” Bobby asks.

“But that’s it, I’m not. We’re not even dating,” Buck mopes and Hen’s eyebrows rise, half impressed, half amused by the spin Buck is giving this. She supposes that technically it’s not a lie, she wouldn’t say she’s dating Karen, she married her.

Luckily, before Buck can be interrogated further and pushed to a place where he can’t deflect anymore, the alarm goes and they all have to rush into their turn out gear, all of them complaining about not getting to eat breakfast instead of focusing on Buck’s problems.

She doesn’t get a chance to talk to him on the call itself, but all can see his mind is elsewhere. Chim at one point slides up next to her and nods at Buck, joking: “His marathon sex probably got interrupted, so the post-nut clarity never came.”

“Shut up,” Hen giggles, feeling a little bad for laughing when she knows it isn’t true.

Before she can try and stop him, while the others go up in the crowd upstairs when they get back, Buck is already gone too.

When she gets upstairs, he’s standing next to Bobby, taking over half the chopping work. Hen can’t blame him, she gets needing to do something with your hands to get your mind off things. So, Hen lets him have that and instead focuses on beating Chimney at cards.

A little while later, she looks up and Buck and Bobby are talking. Unable to help her nosy nature and wanting to be a good friend, she goes and grabs some coffee, listening in.

She clearly missed the start, because when she gets close, Bobby is just saying: “Hey, come on, kid. Look at me.”

His tone indicates that there is about to be some sort of fatherly advice or heart to heart. He’s clearly taken a shine to Buck and she suddenly wonders if she should be listening in on this. She chances a glance over and Buck is tentatively looking at Bobby. He looks scared and she knows she can’t let him face this alone. What if the part she missed was him coming out?

Bobby looks back kindly and says: “You’ve come a long way from the punk that walked in here. If you want things, like closeness, intimacy, trust, those things don’t come for free. Any woman you’ll meet has lived a life and she’s gonna come with some baggage. You’re ready for that, if you want that. But it sounds like you’re hoping to pull her out of this trap she’s in with her family. That’s not going to happen. What she needs is for you to step inside with her, keep her company in there. You can do it.”

Okay, so Buck didn’t come out. She cringes slightly at the words because of it, however, it’s clear Buck needed some sort of affirmation. She’s slightly glad Bobby did it for her. It’s not that she doesn’t want to be there for her friends, she does, but she doesn’t want to parent Buck. He’s her adult friend, not her son.

And it’s clear the words are something Buck needed to hear, because he says: “Thanks, Bobby.”

Bobby seems to sense that this is the end of the conversation and just gives him a paternal nod, before holding out a hand for the vegetables Buck cut. Buck smiles as he hands them over, Hen decides that they’re fine and retreats with her coffee.

She doesn’t manage to catch him all shift and he’s out of there like the wind once it ends. Probably desperate to go home and spend time with his family without his in-laws there, Hen thinks. She’ll ask about it all later.

Later, as it turns out, is next shift, where she has to watch Buck desperately fail to defend himself on giving dating advice and failing because he’s not ready to tell them all he’s married. Hen tries to back him up a little, but can’t too explicitly. Fortunately, they’re all saved from the train wreck of a conversation by the alarm going off.

When they get back, Chimney is eager to continue to offer his help to Bobby, following him out of the rig as Bobby tries to flee from him.

It gives Hen an opportunity. She starts out by saying: “That was an odd call. I mean, dead guy at a psychic’s place, who isn’t dead. Karen will love that.”

“Yeah, Eddie and Chris will get a kick out of it too,” Buck nods as he smiles, before it drops. “Though, it’s gonna be a while until I can tell them about it.”

“What do you mean?” Hen asks confused. They’re going to be home just after dinner and they’ll have time for breakfast before their 24 hour on Thursday, he’d find the time, right? Maybe Eddie is healed up enough to pick up a job again, but she’s sure she would have heard about that. She knows a lot about Eddie for a man she’s never met before. Buck likes talking about him.

“We thought they were staying for a weekend, but they were staying for the week,” Buck tells her with a grimace. “Since we’re so adamant to take their grandbaby so far away from them and all that.”

Hen’s eyes widen at that and she chokes: “For real?”

“Uh-huh, it’s been horrible,” Buck nods. “Eddie slept on the couch until Monday because his father made a stupid comment about Eddie becoming a kept man, I half expected to come home to divorce papers. Which honestly, wasn’t too far fetched, because apparently they were pushing Eddie to divorce me and he left them in a restaurant to Uber back, which is what finally made him want to out stubborn them and come to bed.”

“What?” Hen chokes.

“Yeah, it’s a whole thing. Hopefully they’ll behave at dinner tonight,” Buck sighs, before trying to find the silver lining. “But Chris is excited about his grandparents being in town and he hasn’t been too thrown off about how they’re treating them, though he said he’ll be happy to be eating popcorn again when they’re gone. They probably made a comment about that when they were watching a movie with him on Sunday. I kinda let that one be.”

“That’s sure something,” Hen says, voice a little high with wtf-ness. She can’t imagine her mom pushing her to divorce Karen or getting so much under her skin that she’d sleep on the couch about it. Unable to help herself, she asks: “Is Eddie that insecure about himself? That he’d sleep on the couch?”

“He usually isn’t and he’s actively trying to do better for Chris, but Ramon just gets to him. Helena too,” Buck assures her. “They’ve been practicing getting under his skin since he was a kid and by god, they’re good at it. One of these days they’re gonna go too far and I’m gonna have to do something, but we kind of agree that when it comes to family, you have the last call when it’s yours.”

“Still, that sucks,” Hen sympathizes.

“It does,” Buck agrees. “Can’t wait for it to be Friday, so I can stuff them on a plane.”

Before the conversation can continue, Chimney calls down from the loft: “What are you two gossiping about? Doesn’t matter. Help me convince Bobby to set him up.”

“We should probably go rescue Bobby, shouldn’t we?” Hen says.

“Yeahhh.” Buck starts doing a little jog towards the stairs and Hen follows after.

The rest of their shift goes mercifully well. As Hen leaves the locker room to go home, she squeezes Buck’s shoulder and pats him on the back. The two exchange a silent nod.

She gets home, late enough that Denny’s already asleep, but she knows there will be an extra plate left for her. As she makes her way to the kitchen, she already starts talking: “Babe, I love you so much and I need to tell you how much I appreciate your parents, because you will never guess what Buck- Karen?”

Karen is sitting at the kitchen table, looking shaken as she holds a letter. Hen cautiously steps into the room, frowning: “Did something happen?”

“Eva- uhm, she’s- she’s suing for custody. Of Denny,” Karen says after clearing her throat.

“What? How?” Hen exclaims, quickly walking forward to snatch up the letter to see for herself. She isn’t truly reading the words, though, just staring at the page. “She gave up that right.”

“She claims she was forced to do it. That she was in a bad place and wanted what was best for Denny, but now that she’s in a better place, she wants him back,” Karen explains.

“That’s bullshit!” Hen rages. “She can’t just do that.”

“We have the papers, she’s at least trying,” Karen sighs. “As happy as I am, you didn’t go meet with her, I’m now wondering if we could avoided this. If she wanted something else we could have provided and this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Hey, don’t. Trust me, don’t do that to yourself,” Hen says gently, sitting down next to her and hugging her into her side. “This is what she wants. How she works. She pushes, makes you question herself, makes you want to do things for her. Don’t fall for it. I did too many times, never turned out well for me.”

“I know, it’s just scary.”

“It is,” Hen agrees, squeezing Karen again. “But we’ll get through it. We always have. If all else fails, we fake our deaths, take Denny and run.”

That makes Karen chuckle. “I don’t know if being wanted criminals would help our case, but I’d become a fugitive with you.” She nudges Hen and when Hen looks into her eyes, she’s smiling again, a hopeful sparkle in there.

Hen smiles back, overtaken with how much she loves the woman she has in her arms.

After a moment, Karen breaks the moment, clearing her throat and asking: “But this is a thing to worry about in the morning. What did you want to tell me about Buck that made you appreciate my mother of all people. I know you’ve had your differences.”

“Yeah, but listen to this. Buck’s in-laws – I told you about how horrible they are, right? – they’re staying for the whole week. Not just the weekend,” Hen gossips. “And it’s so bad. I didn’t realize how bad it could get.”

Invested, Karen asks: “What happened?”

“Apparently they are pushing Eddie to divorce Buck, because they’re homophobic and they made a bunch of comments that got under Eddie’s skin, so he slept on the couch. The couch,” Hen says. “I can’t imagine what kind of relationship you have to have with your parents that they can get to you that badly. I can’t really come up with anything that would get me to that point.”

“Oh, that is bad. What did Buck say about all of that?”

“He seems to be staying positive about it. Probably helps that Eddie slept in the bed again after the divorce conversation with his parents. And he says Chris likes that his grandparents are in town. I would grit my teeth through a lot too if it made Denny happy…” Hen says, trailing off at then end when she mentions Denny.

Karen sighs, eyes falling back on the letter. “Me too.”

Hen recognizes the look she gets on her face the longer she looks at that letter. “Alright.” Hen pats her leg. “I’m gonna warm up my left overs and then we’re devising a game plan while I eat. You’re not going to be able to sleep otherwise.”

“I’m sorry,” Karen says, sending her a guilty look.

“Nothing to be sorry about.” Hen pecks her on the lips. “Want me to get your laptop while I’m up so you can make a dedicated folder?”

“Yes, please.”

They stay up later than they should have and Hen sleeps badly with all the thoughts running through her head. She ends up coming into work early, just to get away from the way her mind is spinning. But she forgot that there was the possibility that no one would really be there, so she finds herself sitting morosely at the table alone.

She gets pulled from her thoughts by an equally exhausted looking Buck, who pours her a coffee, before he sits down too. She smiles gratefully at him. “Thanks.”

“So what kept you up tonight?” he asks after she has taken a few sips.

“Eva,” Hen sighs after a moment. “She’s suing me and Karen for custody of Denny. Is claiming we forced her to hand him over, as if she wasn’t itching to sign over custody from the moment she’d given birth.”

“Wow, that’s a lot.” Buck takes a seat next to her. “Does she have any basis for her case? How did you get custody of Denny?”

“I mean, she was able to file,” Hen says, slightly doubtful. “She just got out of prison, but she seems to be picking her life up. At the time she said she didn’t know who the father was, signed over full custody to me, so I could take care of him with Karen. She adopted him too. He’s ours, has been since birth. But who knows. It’s not as if court systems are in the favor of people like me and Karen.”

“Hey, don’t go there. Signing over custody – and straight away too – that means something. It’s hard for parents to get that back when they give it up. You and Karen are his parents, Denny knows that as well as you do. Any person who meets you will know that too,” Buck tells her with conviction.

“I hope so,” Hen sighs. “Is that something you think about? Chris’s mom coming back?” She can guess why he knows why signing over custody means something.

“It’s different,” Buck answers. “She raised Chris for four years mostly by herself, since Eddie was off in the service. He remembers her. He cried his whole fifth birthday because she didn’t come home to celebrate with us. Asked about her when he had to get surgery. If she’d want to have a place in his life again, I’d be cautious before letting her, but if Eddie was okay with it, I’d let her come back.”

“I can’t image leaving Denny behind when he was four. Not now either,” Hen says.

“And you’re not going to have to,” Buck assures her. “And Shannon had her reasons. I’ll never forgive her for leaving Chris the ways she did, I mean, he was four and she didn’t even say goodbye. He woke up and mommy was gone. Forever. But she’d been raising him all by herself for the most part, no family nearby, surrounded by a town who outwardly hated her. When Eddie was back and ready to take care of him, she left. Went to take care of her mom. Cancer. I get why she would.”

Even though he can never understand. He withstood those years of Helena’s hatred and Ramon’s disdain, a town full of rumors that didn’t want him there either. And those were still a few of his best years, but not everyone is the same, he guesses.

“Wow, that’s something,” Hen whistles. “I suppose that is a lot for one person. Still, I couldn’t do it, I love Denny too much.”

“And the court knows that. Eva doesn’t stand a chance. She no longer has a claim on him. And if she does genuinely want a role in his life again, it’ll be years before she’s proven herself, and even then, he will not just be taken from you two,” Buck says.

Hen she smiles and says: “Thank you, Buck. I needed to hear that.”

“It’s okay, having people in your corner makes it all easier to deal with. The people at this firehouse are in your corner,” Buck says honestly.

“You’re a sweet kid. I’m glad to have you at this house,” Hen tells him a rush of affection coming over her.

“Thanks,” he beams at her.

“So, how is the week with the in-laws going? You didn’t exactly look very happy yourself either,” Hen changes topics.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Buck groans. “I actually kicked them out of the house yesterday. Drove them to Abuela’s, so Ramon could explain to his mom how he overstayed his welcome.”

“Holy shit,” Hen exclaims. “What did they do?”

At the reminder, Buck puffs up with offense again. “Tried to convince us to give them custody, because our work hours are too inconsistent and we can’t provide a stable home for him. And then! Then she had the nerve to tell Eddie to, and I quote, ‘not drag Chris down with you,’ the fucking nerve of that. Eddie has devoted his life to Chris’s well being. He’s lifting him up. Who says that to their own kid?”

“What the hell,” Hen swears. Her opinion of these in-laws was already spectacularly low, but every time she hears of them, she gets disappointed more.

“I know,” Buck exclaims. “I couldn’t let them get away with that. Luckily Eddie wasn’t upset with me kicking them out while he was off putting Chris back in bed again – the yelling woke him up – and we’re going to be rid of them tomorrow. They’re doing breakfast with us so they can say goodbye to Chris, before we’re dropping them off at the airport.”

“You’re letting them back into your house after they said that?” Hen asks disbelievingly.

“If it were up to me, no, but Eddie wants them there. And I respect that. It’s for Chris’s sake. Goodbyes are important to him,” Buck says and Hen remembers what he just told her about Shannon. “And Eddie will always forgive them. They never deserve it, but he always does. I try to carry the grudge for both of us, because he can’t.”

“That’s very mature and kind of you, Buck. Eddie’s lucky to have you in his corner,” Hen says.

“I’m just happy that he lets me have his back,” Buck smiles back.

It melts Hen’s heart. It’s a sweet sentiment and she feels very privileged that Buck lets her peak into this part of his life. However, she doesn’t know how to verbalize that and the day is starting too. So, she just shoulder bumps him fondly, before draining her coffee and going to greet Chimney, who is just coming up the stairs.

The rest of their shift rolls by smoothly with some medical calls and a small fender bender. It’s a medium shift, not too quiet – though Hen would never use that word – nor too busy. A perfectly good shift all in all. Both her and Buck can use it after the night they’ve had.

At breakfast the Friday morning, Hen is the only one, who isn’t confused Buck is half standing as he shoves the final bites of breakfast in his mouth when he usually enjoys family meals the most, often hanging around for a bit after too.

Chimney even asks: “What? You got a breakfast date or something?”

“If you want to call it that,” Buck snorts, making Hen bite her lip in amusement as the other make their own assumptions about what he means, before she calls out a goodbye at his back, while he makes his way downstairs, then out of the firehouse.

Next shift, Buck comes in and seems lighter. It’s not as if his in-laws have disappeared, but it’s clear the direct stress is gone. However, they all notice he has gotten busier. He often flies out of the firehouse and has claimed a few personal emergencies in the middle of the day; often school pick up time, Hen notices.

After one of such personal emergencies, Hen happens to catch him as he’s coming in while she’s restocking the ambulance. She asks: “Hey, everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, all good,” he assures her, a little out of breath.

“You sure? That’s the third emergency. Is it something serious? You know you can talk to us right? We have each other’s backs here, remember?”

At that, he smiles brightly, perking up. “I know. Just pick up. I feel a little bad, but Eddie started the fire academy and tía Pepa works and Abuela doesn’t drive, so it’s a bit chaotic right now trying to get care for Chris organized.”

“Eddie’s becoming a fire fighter?” Hen asks, pleasantly surprised.

“Yeah, my stories won him over,” Buck grins. “And he has a lot of transferable skills, army medic and all that.”

“Wish him luck from me,” Hen says. “And if you ever need someone to watch Chris, he’s more than welcome in our home.”

“Thank you so much,” Buck says gratefully. “Need some help stocking that?”

“And hand you a clipboard? No thanks,” Hen jokes. “I’m pretty sure Bobby started on dinner, go bother him.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am,” Buck salutes, before walking off and Hen watches him go with a fond smile.

A few weeks later and their probie Buck, is a probie no more. It’s oddly melancholic to be at his shield ceremony, as if he’s their kid, who is suddenly all grown up. Maybe it’s because they’ve seen him grow so much in his time here, maybe it’s because he’s good at getting into your heart and making himself at home there.

The only people that come to his ceremony are the tía and Abuela he mentioned. Both of them are Eddie’s family, though they don’t say they are. There is no one other family for Buck, no Eddie, no Chris, no parents. No one.

It reminds Hen partly of her own wedding, partly of her first office party all the way back when she first started out, which is a weird mix.

She knows his parents are homophobic and he doesn’t even talk to them, but it must still hurt anyway that they aren’t here to celebrate this big thing with him. That there are those empty chairs – however metaphoric in this case – where they’re supposed to be there, but aren’t

And she knows how painful it must be, to not be able to celebrate this with your child and your husband. The people you share your life with, but aren’t ready to share with the world.

Hen wants to say something, give him some sort of encouragement or understanding. Solidarity perhaps, or comfort. However, he’s continuously surrounded by others and she doesn’t get the words in.

That evening, she burrows her face into Karen’s stomach and hugs her tightly, just breathing in her scent and being grateful for what she has. For the fact that she has always been there. That she was able to work through all the things that made it feel impossible to share.

She would never push someone to out themselves if they weren’t comfortable and she doesn’t know the entirety of Buck’s situation. Still, in that moment, she sends a hope out into the universe, that one day, Buck can have that too.

A few shifts later, Hen’s perception of Buck, is turned inside out.

Buck seems a little nervous when he comes in, glancing around and seeming surprised when he spots them when they start talking to him. The conversation turns to body fat when they bring up that stupid calendar, something Buck has been getting really into and he seems like himself when he rambles, until that conversation devolves into something else.

Then Chimney cuts it all off, getting distracted by something as he comments: “Okay that, is a beautiful man.”

Hen follows his gaze, curious to see what sort of man could have evoked that comment, only to do a double take when she actually sees him. The man is, objectively, certainly beautiful, fitting the beauty standard to a T. However, that is not what makes her double take; what makes her double take, is that she is pretty sure she’s seen this man before, namely in the truck that came to pick Buck up after the plane crash.

Immediately, her eyes shoot to Buck, who is also looking back to see who Chimney pointed out. But his gaze doing a complicated something that makes him look longing, scared and pissed off? It settles on pissed off, as he says: “Who the hell is that?”

Now Hen is only more confused, but she tells herself that maybe she saw wrong. It was dark after all and she only saw Eddie briefly in the dim light of the car. No matter how sure she was. Maybe Buck is pissed off, because he saw the similarity too, but it’s not his husband?

All that gets thrown out the window, when Bobby says: “That’s Eddie Diaz, new recruit. Graduated top of his class just this week. Guys over at station 6 were dying to have him, but I convinced him to join us.”

He continues talking about Eddie’s accomplishments, but Hen tunes him out in favor of trying to catch Buck’s eyes. When she does, she sends him a ‘wtf’- look, trying to ask with her eyes, if she is seeing what she thinks she is seeing and why the hell Buck is acting this way towards his husband, and why he’s not saying anything.

Buck catches her eye and suddenly remembers that he forgot one, very crucial detail when he and Eddie came up with their scheme.

Fuck, this complicates things. He needs Hen to not blow this for them and he sends her a pleading look that hopefully conveys to her that she should play along. If she blows this scheme and reveals to Eddie that Buck is madly in love with him, he’ll have to change his name and move to a different continent again.

His urge to create as much distance between him and Eddie only grows and before he knows what he’s doing, he hears himself saying: “What do we need him for?”

Internally he cringes at both himself and the raised brow Hen is giving him. However, she doesn’t say anything about what she knows as the others laughs and keeps quiet when they all go to greet Eddie, Buck following after them all with apprehension tight in his chest.

Hen is pretty sure she weirds Eddie out slightly with how closely she’s studying him, even if her hello is totally normal.

She certainly catches the confused look he gives Buck when he appears behind him, having set himself on being strangely defensive. Is everything going okay at home? He did mention thinking he’d get divorced, so maybe something happened on that front? Or he just doesn’t want to work with Eddie? Which Hen doesn’t get. He seems like the guy that would love to work with his spouse. She would.

“Eddie, this is Buck,” Bobby says. “Buck this is Eddie. He’ll be your partner in the field from now on, I expect you to keep him in the loop.”

Hen doesn’t know what she’s expecting, maybe a crack in the facade, an ‘ahh, I’m just joking’ and an explanation. Or at least some sort of acknowledgment. However, instead Buck just nods curtly and says: “Yes, Cap.”

Her eyes swing to Eddie, curious to see what he will do. But it seems that he is either just going along with whatever Buck is doing or there actually is some tension between them, because he is way more polite with Buck as he greets him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Buck says, a word he has never said before.

This whole thing is weird and everyone is picking up on it, not just Hen. Sure, they all remember the cocky Buck from the early days, who could balk at authority from time to time and be a bit of a dick sometimes. This, though, is very unlike him. He loves talking to people and meeting them. He’s a godsend on most cases where they need to keep people calm or do crowd control.

Before, they can figure out what’s happening, the alarm goes and they have to abandon this mystery in favor of getting into their gear.

On the rig there, it’s clear Chimney has interpreted the tension as Buck being territorial and starting a pissing contest with the new guy. Hen doesn’t think that’s it. She is pretty sure now she hadn’t been making it up when she recognized Eddie and they’re in the rig with Buck’s husband. However, she’s not going to say anything until she knows more and instead chooses to help Chimney tease Buck while observing the reactions to try and gather more information.

When they get to the call, her focus is primarily on the patient, though she observes Eddie to be competent and easy to work with. Buck wasn’t just bragging, which is good. Hen likes working with competent people.

Though she’s not sure if she can hang out with Eddie on the clock in the long term without saying anything about the weird vibe between him and Buck and the knowledge she has.

At some point, Buck goes to puncture Hector’s chest cavity and then Eddie takes over. Watching it, Hen isn’t sure if they’re very well in tune with each other to the point they don’t mind the way they’re communicating – well, barely communicating – or if there is tension and they’re being curt. Buck might be a horrible liar, but he might just be a great actor.

They give Eddie their complements on a job well done and Hen looks back to see Buck doing the same, though he sounds a little condescending. However, when she glances at his face, there is a glint of humor in his eyes and the way Eddie gives him a deadpan look in return can only be described as fond. Definitely married and playing at something, she decides.

It takes everything in her to not explode and blurt something out on the way back. And she is so grateful to Chimney, who leads Eddie away under his arms to show him the magic of Bobby’s cooking, so she can yank Buck into a supply closet.

“I know that is your husband right there, don’t even try to lie to me. Eddie Diaz, Eddie Diaz. The names match. And I waited to see if you got picked up that one time, and he looks exactly like that guy that came for you,” Hen says, before Buck can even recover from the disorientation.

“Wait, you waited for Eddie to come pick me up?” is all Buck says in his confusion.

“Not the point, Buckley,” Hen hisses. “Why are you pretending you don’t know your own husband? In fact, why are you acting like you don’t even like the man? Love him, actually.”

“Okay, I can explain that.”

“Please do!”

“So-” Buck starts, then immediately stops. “You see-” he pauses again. “It seemed like a good idea when we came up with it.”

“You’re doing this on purpose?” Hen says, still confused. Though she supposes that’s good. It would be kind of weird if Buck had decided on the fly not to know Eddie and Eddie just went along with it without any questions.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s on purpose,” Buck chuckles awkwardly. “Eddie got the offer and we know we work well together and this house is a good one – I mean, you hear the horror stories about the hazing – but then we kind of realized, they would retract the offer if we tried to do the paperwork, since Eddie is a probie, not a full firefighter. Besides, I never told anyone about Eddie either – except for you, which I kind of forgot, until today – so it would invite a lot of questions. And it would get confusing and weird, since we are married, but we’re not really together-”

“What?”

“What what?” Buck repeats, seeming taken aback by her reaction, meanwhile Hen is still internally blue-screening and reeling.

“What do you mean you’re not really together? Are you two getting divorced?” Hen exclaims

“I mean, at some point, yeah, we’re getting divorced,” Buck says, frowning. “Me and Eddie aren’t dating, never have. He’s straight.”

“Straight?”

“Yeah, straight. We got married for convenience,” Buck confirms, in a tone that clearly conveys he doesn’t know why she keeps freaking out. “Did you not know that?”

“How was I supposed to know that!” Hen yells, before lowering her volume so no one comes to check up on them in the supply closet. “You just told me you were in love with your husband and rambled about him and your son, being all mushy. What about that screams, we’re friends and he’s straight?”

“Ah, uhm- well…” Buck turns a bright red and looks anywhere but her face as he admits: “I am kind of very much in love with him, he just doesn’t know that. He- he probably- maybe- kind of also thinks I’m straight?”

“Oh my god.” Hen is actually speechless for a moment trying to piece all she knows back together into this new picture, Buck just painted.

Instead of a married bi guy with a family, he loves, but wasn’t ready to be out at work. He is a married bi guy with a family that he loves, but his husband is straight and they got married as friends with the plans to divorce – now him saying they got married so he could adopt Chris is put in a different light too – but he is in love with him, but the guy doesn’t know.

“Please don’t tell him,” Buck says anxiously.

“Of course I’m not going to tell him,” Hen hisses. “I’m processing.”

“Okay,” Buck replies faintly.

Hen takes a moment, before saying: “Okay, so tell me if I got this right. You married Eddie, as friends, to adopt Chris and with the plan to get divorced?”

“Yes.”

“But you aren’t divorced yet.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And now you’re working together here and you did not tell anyone at HR or Bobby or anyone, that you two are married.”

Buck nods.

“Because you aren’t together like that anyway?”

Buck nods again.

“But you are in love with Eddie, he just doesn’t know and he’s straight.”

“Yup,” Buck squeaks.

“And you’re not going to tell him?”

“No!” Buck exclaims loudly, before quieter repeating: “No, no. He can’t know. It’ll make it all weird and he’ll realize I’ve been kind of making myself necessary, so he doesn’t divorce me, because I like being married to him, even if it’s not like that. And that is a little weird. And then he’ll know and he’ll leave me forever and I’ll never get to see Chris again.”

“Okay, okay, breathe, Buck, breathe,” Hen guides him when he starts spiraling. He follows her steady breaths until he calmed down a little and she soothes: “He’s not just going to leave you. I won’t tell him you’re in love with him.”

“Thank you,” Buck manages to get out.

They stand in the quiet supply closet for a moment, the feint cleaning supply smell permeating the air along with the slightly dampened noise from outside. Buck calming down, Hen sorting her thoughts.

After a few beats, Hen says: “So what is your plan with hating Eddie?”

“I panicked,” Buck grimaces. “I just saw him and Chimney was saying he is beautiful – and he is – but saying that felt like me proclaiming I’m in love with him, so I couldn’t, so I just kind of did the opposite of that and now I’m stuck.”

“God, you’re hopeless,” Hen mutters.

“You have to help me.”

“I’m not going to help you!”

“Why not? You’d be so good at it.”

“Buck, I’m not going to help you lie to Bobby, HR and basically everyone! You two can get in serious trouble for that.”

“So you’re gonna tell Bobby?” Buck asks, looking like a kicked puppy.

Hen inhales a sharp, annoyed breath, because fuck, this kid gets to her. Then she sighs: “No. I’m not going to tell Bobby.”

Immediately Buck perks up and hugs her. “Thank you so much.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t cheer yet. I’m not getting involved in this little act you and Eddie have going on either,” she says, jabbing her finger at him.

“Understood, ma’am,” Buck agrees without hesitation.

“Good. Just so we’re clear,” Hen nods.

“Good.” Buck nods back. He’s quiet for a moment, then he asks: “So then what are you going to do?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Hen tells him. “I need a moment to think. Just go.”

“Go?”

“Yes, go. Go out there and put on your little performance and give me a moment to think,” Hen says, waving him towards the door she yanked him through moments earlier.

“No, don’t make me go,” Buck pleads. “Then I have to figure out how to act around Eddie again.”

“You live with him, now shoo,” Hen retorts without remorse, before unceremoniously shoving him back out the supply closet and slamming the door close behind him.

Buck outside goes to do whatever he decides to do – which is working out and accidentally picking a fight with Eddie, but Hen doesn’t know that – so Hen can pull out her phone. She can’t deal with this bullshit by herself.

Before Karen can even say anything as a greeting, she blurts out: “They’re not together.”

To her credit doesn’t skip a beat. “What?”

“Eddie and Buck, they’re not together,” Hen says.

“But they’re married?”

“Yeah, platonically, as friends, because Eddie is straight,” Hen says her voice saying ‘can you believe this shit?’ “Which I found out today, because Eddie showed up to our work. He’s our new probie. And he and Buck are pretending they don’t know each other.”

“What?”

“That’s what I said!” Hen exclaims.

“What are you going to do now?” Karen also asks.

“I don’t know,” Hen answers again.

“Okay, just tell me everything, we’ll figure this out,” Karen says, which is exactly why Hen loves her so much. She’s a problem solver, a gossip, and always on Hen’s side.

Hen relays all the new information she’s gained in the last hour and combines it with what they already know. She ends with: “And I know I should tell Bobby, but you didn’t see Buck’s face. He isn’t even out to Eddie and who knows what an investigation will bring. I don’t want to do that to someone. What if he looses his kid? I don’t want to responsible for that.”

“Yeah, I totally get that,” Karen says and she can just picture her nodding intently. She pauses for a moment, then says: “We don’t have enough data.”

“We don’t?”

“No.” Karen says, in her ‘I’m talking science’-voice that Hen adores. “We know Buck’s feelings and perception of the situation, as well as his personality, but we know nothing of Eddie’s side. What if he’s under the same misunderstanding as you were?”

“You think he might think that he’s married to Buck for real and in love with him too?” Hen asks, kind of skeptical, but willing to buy it because Karen is selling it.

“I mean, I’m not saying that, but it could be true,” Karen says. “But it’s probably closer to maybe having the same misunderstanding Buck has. I mean, if you were married to your straight bestie and you were in love with them, you wouldn’t risk them finding out by coming out, right? Buck hasn’t. Who’s to say, Eddie isn’t doing the same? Did he seem gay to you?”

Hen shrugs. “I don’t know. You have the better gaydar, between the two of us.”

Karen gasps excitedly. “You should invite him over. So, I can investigate!”

“How do you expect me to subtly do that?” Hen exclaims.

Before Karen can explain what she thinks, the alarm starts ringing and Hen has to hang up so she can answer. Promising that she’ll update Karen when she gets home and telling her she loves her, before she does.

To ensure she is able to properly report back to her wife that evening, she observes Eddie closely for the rest of her shift.

This sadly does not result in much, except a few weird looks from Eddie, since he and Buck are mostly avoiding each other and Bobby puts them on different jobs on the few calls they do take, clearly trying to figure out how he’s going to deal with this odd tension between the two. He likely can’t place a finger on it like he usually does, since it’s staged.

She has to go home, before anything changes, which is a bummer, so she is anxiously waiting to see how they’ll interact the next shift they’re on. Chim feels much the same, though for that is because he apparently walked in on the two of them fighting. Hen hates that she missed that.

They’ve been standing in the loft, looking down over the rest of the firehouse since Buck came in that morning. Now, Eddie is coming in too and they’re finally going to see for themselves.

Buck spots him easily, turning around at the sound of his footsteps as if he knows them by heart, already smiling, before he can even see Eddie. He calls out: “Hey, Eddie, did you know that grenade launcher that guy shot himself with yesterday started in production in 1969 and has been in use since the 70s?”

“Oh really?” Eddie replies, almost sounding as if he is hearing new information, but Hen is paying such close attention, she thinks it sounds amused. Though she might be making that up.

No, she didn’t make it up. However, she should have definitely added fond to that, because Eddie’s face is definitely very fond along with amused. They start making their way up the stairs together, shoulders bumping into one another on every step as Buck rambles about all the information he found as they walk to the loft.

Chimney gives Hen a confused look, as if to ask ‘can you believe that got from how they were acting last shift to this?’ Hen decides to just give a confused look back, but hers is more ‘I have no clue what’s going on between those two anymore.’

Later on a call, they dive into a pool together to pull an idiotic kid with a microwave cemented on his head out. They’re perfectly in sync and there is no leftover anything from last shift. They’ve settled into a well oiled machine and it’s clear Bobby is very pleased with himself.

It takes Hen a week of observation before she cracks.

A week of watching Buck and Eddie share little glances, a week of watching Buck stare at Eddie when he thinks no one notices, a week of watching professional Eddie cracking up and lighting up whenever Buck makes a joke, a week of Eddie referencing fun facts Buck told him as if he has them all memorized, a week of Buck bashfully ducking his head whenever he talks with Eddie. It’s too much, she can’t take it anymore.

Coming up to the locker room, she hears Eddie say: “Hey, can you pick up Chris today? I know it’s my turn, but I can’t find my keys anywhere.”

“Ohoho, what is this, Mr. Neat, lost his stuff?” Buck replies, sounding a little too gleeful.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, like you wouldn’t lose everything if you didn’t have me to remind you that you probably left your phone on the toilet and your wallet in your pocket. I found one of our coffee mugs in your closet when I put away the laundry last time. The closet, Buck,” Eddie rolls his eyes.

“I plead the fifth.” Buck grins

“Sure. Fine,” Eddie doesn’t mind or care much for the bickering, accepting Buck’s reply and returning back to his previous question. “So, you good too pick up Chris?”

Buck doesn’t even seem fazed, grin only broadening at the bitchy response. “Yeah, ‘course I can pick up Chris. No problem.”

“Cool, see you at home when I find my goddamn keys,” Eddie curses.

“Alright. Text me if you can’t and need me to come pick you up,” Buck says.

“I’ll find them,” Eddie pouts stubbornly, making Buck laugh.

He leaves the locker room nearly running into Hen, but avoiding her with a little noise, before wishing her a good afternoon. Eddie whips his head around, eyeing her suspiciously, but since Buck doesn’t react to her presence, he likely assumes she just walked in and didn’t overhear.

Wrong.

Hen waits until Buck is in his car, before pulling Eddie’s keys out of her pocket and jingling them. When Eddie looks back, she holds them up and asks: “Looking for these?”

“Yeah, where did you find them?”

She took them out of his locker, a kid’s birthday is an easy choice and because of Buck, she knows exactly when Chris’s birthday is. “Unimportant,” is what she says. “I know.”

“What?”

“I know,” she repeats, this time more intently, eyes flicking over to Buck’s sweater that ended up in Eddie’s locker at some point and is now lying on the bench, because Eddie put it there when emptying out his locker in the hope of finding his keys.

Eddie’s eyes grow wide and he gets a little pale. Hen feels a little bad when he swallows thickly and nervously asks: “What are you going to do now?”

“Get to the bottom of it,” Hen answers. “Get in my car. We’re going to have a drink together and you’ll get these,” she jingles the keys, “back when you have satisfied my curiosity.”

He hesitates – which is pretty valid, since Hen is basically kidnapping him – then cautiously asks: “Can I text Buck you’re doing that?”

“Sure,” Hen says easily. He doesn’t know where she lives, much like she doesn’t know where he lives. It’s not like telling him will change anything.

Eddie side eyes her as he texts, probably expecting her to retract the allowance, but Hen waits patiently until he’s done then ushers him into her car. To his credit, Eddie doesn’t ask too many questions and just lets her. She makes a mental note to tell him not to do that when this is over.

They spend the first few minutes of the drive in awkward silence, until Eddie finally breaks, asking: “So how did you find out anyway?”

“Buck told me,” Hen answers honestly.

“What?” Eddie exclaims with bulging eyes.

“To be fair to Buck, he forgot he did until I asked him what the fuck he was doing,” Hen says.

“Fucking scatterbrain,” Eddie mutters, though it’s sounds too fond to truly be an insult. He shakes his head to himself, then turns back to Hen and asks: “But if you already know, then why are you abducting me for an interrogation?”

“Because I only know Buck’s side of the story, duh. Didn’t you ever watch a detective show?” Hen tells him. “And Karen wants to meet you.”

“Your wife wants to meet me?” a confused Eddie asks.

“Yeah, she’s curious,” Hen replies, electing not to tell him, it is also because Karen has the better gaydar and they’re trying to figure out if he’s as straight as he claims he is. That’s not a thing to truly push on a person. They need to get there themselves. Though… they might, well… nudge.

“So you’re kidnapping me because your wife is curious about me and you find nothing weird about that?” Eddie asks slightly judgmental.

“Oh, I find it plenty odd, but I mostly find it weird you went along with it,” Hen says bluntly.

“Did I not have to?” Eddie frowns.

“No, it’s not like I would have forced you if you didn’t want to come,” Hen says, getting a little concerned. “Did you not realize that?”

Eddie shrugs, looking a little sheepish as he does. He shrugs: “You sounded pretty authoritative. I’ve always kind of followed orders.”

“Maybe stop doing that?” Hen tells him worriedly.

“Uh, I will,” Eddie promises.

“Good.”

They spend the rest of the drive in silence until they get to the Wilson house. She told Karen she was planning on doing this, so she knows she’ll be waiting inside. Denny is off at a sleep over, they have a biweekly rotation with some of the other parents, which made today a great day for this.

Indeed, Karen is waiting on their front porch, excitedly waving when Hen pulls up into the driveway. Next to her, Eddie takes one look at Karen, then looks back at Hen, apprehension written all over his face. Hen snorts: “She doesn’t bite.”

“I know that,” Eddie says bitchily, defiantly throwing his door open, though his gait slows slightly after two steps.

Karen either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, coming to meet Eddie with a big smile. She shakes his hand and says: “I’m Karen, it’s so nice to meet you.”

“Uh, Eddie, nice to meet you too,” Eddie replies, shaking her hand on autopilot.

He follows her inside on autopilot too, letting her hit him with a barrage of words. “I can make coffee, but it’s already afternoon, so I don’t know if you still drink coffee. Or tea. We also have soda. But maybe this is more of an alcohol conversation for you?”

“Definitely that last one.” Eddie clears his throat. “You have beer?”

“Yeah, but I’m more partial to wine. Are you not a wine drinker?” Karen asks.

“Uhm, I don’t know?”

“Would you be open to trying?” Karen inquires curiously. To Hen, this is her scientist face, but she doesn’t know what data she could be gathering. However, she lets her happily with a smitten look on her own face.

“I suppose,” Eddie says, which is how he finds himself awkwardly sitting next to Karen on the couch with a glass of wine in his hands moments later.

“Take a sip, tell me what you think,” Karen encourages him with a smile. “It is supposed to have a bit of a woody taste, but Hen never tastes it. I’m starting to think I’m crazy.”

Still very much confused about how he ended up here, Eddie does as told and takes a sip, sending Hen a ‘wtf’-look that she responds to with a shrug.

It’s kind of funny how Eddie then turns his focus on the wine, clearly trying to taste what Karen told him about the wine. After a moment, he cautiously says: “I think I can taste it? But it’s a little more saw dust in a shed than, like, a barrel or something.”

“Hm,” Karen hums taking another sip of her own and tasting it closely. Her eyes widen and she exclaims: “You’re good, Diaz. Totally saw dust-y. Wait.” She gets up and starts rummaging around somewhere else in the house.

On the couch, Eddie sips more of his wine, quietly asking Hen: “Is she always like that?”

“If she likes you,” Hen smiles.

“Oh, okay,” Eddie nods. Taking another sip and finishing the saw dust wine.

Karen comes back with another bottle and glass, pouring Eddie a second glass. “Try this one, tell me what you think.”

Eddie puts down the now empty glass one, before grabbing the second one and tasting it with as much intent as he did the first time around. Two sips later, he says: “It’s smokey? I think.”

“Yes, I know right!” Karen says happily. “It’s aged in old tobacco barrels.”

Suddenly self conscious, Eddie asks: “Aren’t these expensive?”

“They’re not very high up there, but not cheap frat boy liquor,” Karen shrugs. “But it’s a hobby and Hen is bad at it.”

“Hey!” Hen interjects for the first time.

“Come on, babe, you know it’s true,” Karen tells her gently.

“I try,” Hen pouts.

“I know.” Karen leans over and pats her arm. Then she turns back to Eddie and asks: “What else do you taste?”

A few glasses and a conversation about wine later, Eddie is looking a lot more relaxed and the two of them have decided that the second wine is the better one. Which means, they now all have a glass of the second one.

When there’s a lull in conversation, Karen pounces. She asks: “So, how did the whole being married as friends thing even happen?”

“Because Buck is too nice for his own good,” Eddie groans, falling back against the couch cushions.

Karen raises a brow and gives Hen a significant look, before focusing back on Eddie: “Too nice? What does that even mean?”

Eddie gestures vaguely and says: “You know, too nice. He should have never been doing this with me, but he’s too nice and now he’s still here, years later. Like,” Eddie blinks a few times and takes a sip from his wine as he tries to do the math, “like, three years later.”

“You’ve been married for three years?” Karen prompts, trying to keep Eddie talking.

“No, two,” Eddie corrects. “But Shannon left three years ago. She was sleeping with Buck, but she didn’t say she was going, she just left. And Buck should have left too. But he didn’t. He stayed. And he helped, because he’s too nice.”

That is new information. Hen never knew Buck was seeing Shannon. That makes this a whole new layer of complicated. She gets why they wanted to avoid the questions.

“Okay, so he’s too nice,” Karen nods, deciding to focus on the more important bit. “Why did you two get married when you were doing the co-parenting together before that already.”

“Cause Chris had to get surgery,” Eddie says. Explaining: “He’s our son, he has CP,” just in case they didn’t know that already. “Surgery is expensive.”

“That’s why you re-enlisted,” Hen puts together, remembering Buck telling him about the injury that brought him home.

Eddie nods enthusiastically. He clearly isn’t used to wine and he’s already a little tipsy, nearly spilling his drink.

“Why does that require a marriage?” Karen wonders out loud.

“Buck needed to adopt Chris, so my mom wouldn’t take him,” Eddie says, before whispering: “She doesn’t like my parenting.” Sadly, he explains: “She probably wouldn’t have given him back. I couldn’t lose Chris like that. So I asked Buck, because he’s selfless and I’m selfish. And the fastest way to adopt someone is through stepparent adoption. So we got married.”

Both their hearts break at the confession and Karen pulls Eddie into her side, saving his glass when he flops over sideways.

She rubs her hand over his arm and says: “It’s not selfish to want to keep your son, Eddie. Your mom sounds like a bitch for thinking that. From what I hear from Hen, you’re a great father. You and Buck both.”

“That’s what Buck says too,” Eddie smiles sappily. Hen gets another significant look from Karen. “He is a great dad too. Chris loves him.”

“And that’s all that matter,” Karen says, squeezing Eddie again, before letting him untangle himself from her, while she refills his glass.

“I guess,” Eddie agrees thoughtfully.

Getting the conversation back on track, Hen asks: “So, you two got married so he could adopt Chris, then you went on tour and got injured.”

“Yeah, we were supposed to get divorced when I got back, you know, but Buck was too nice again and he became a firefighter so Chris would have insurance when I got discharged and so he could support us while I healed up,” Eddie says.

“So how did you two end up here in LA? Texas didn’t have enough fires?” Karen asks curiously.

“Buck’s great at his job,” Eddie says, seemingly not answering the question for a moment. “He got job offers all over. He wanted to take the one in Austin, so we would be closer to home, not uproot Chris and stuff. But… I wanted to go to LA. Get out of there. Buck just agreed and we got a house here.”

Hen is sure he was going to tell them again how that is because Buck is too nice, but Karen starts talking before he can. “Did you two buy a house? That’s quite the commitment.”

“Maybe, but you get tax benefits together and a higher mortgage with two possible incomes,” Eddie shrugs. “This way we’d have money in the house, so we’d have the money again when we sell. Maybe be able to put some to the side for a college fund for Chris.”

“Won’t that be difficult when you two divorce?” Karen asks and both see the way Eddie’s face sours at the thought.

“We’re not divorced yet,” he pouts. “And we have a prenup. I learned that lesson the first time around. It will be fine.”

“Why didn’t you divorce yet?” Hen asks, suddenly curious. She knows why Buck hasn’t, namely because he has a a huge fat crush on Eddie, but she wonders what Eddie’s rationale is for staying married to Buck and getting more involved with him by buying a house together for them and their kid.

Eddie’s face does something complicated and unreadable, before he shrugs: “We haven’t found anyone yet. We’re gonna get divorced if we get serious with someone. It’s not in the cards right now. Buck isn’t looking for anything serious, says he gets enough serious at work. He…” Eddie’s eyes get a hard glint in them, “He hooks up sometime.”

“And you?” Hen asks with a raised brow, clocking that shit as jealousy and curious that Eddie has only focused on why Buck might leave.

“Oh, I haven’t gotten around to it,” Eddie shrugs. “I want to get into a work rhythm first. And I am not really a going out to the club or a bar kind of person. I don’t really meet a lot of people.”

“Some girls have flirted on the calls we went on,” Hen points out.

“That’s unprofessional.” Eddie looks scandalized at the suggestion and says: “And it will just get complicated with Chris and everything. I’m fine where I am right now.”

Yeah, no, this man is not straight. Hen doesn’t know what label he might prefer, but she does know it includes being in love with Evan Buckley. God, this is a mess. Why did she get involved with it? Curiosity killed the cat and all that (a voice that sounds annoyingly like Buck sharing a fun fact adds ‘but satisfaction brought it back.’ He is right).

“Complicated with Chris and everything?” Karen repeats curiously, filling everyone’s glass again. She is starting to get a bit of a flush herself and Hen decides not to drink more, because someone needs to be somewhat sober at the end of this.

“Uh, yeah, he- he’s scared of people leaving, you know. I mean, I left twice to go fight and Shannon left forever,” Eddie says awkwardly. “If I start dating someone, I’ll have to introduce them to Chris at some point – and Buck of course – and then if it doesn’t work out… I don’t know, I don’t want to risk that right now.”

“And are you scared something like that will happen if Buck starts dating someone?” Hen feels comfortable pushing, because it’s not likely to happen with how down bad Buck is for Eddie.

Eddie’s face contorts at the mention of Buck dating someone, but a determined look comes over his face as he states: “Buck would never leave Chris. He loves him, he’s his father. It would break Chris’s heart and Buck is too good to do anything that would hurt Chris. Too nice.”

Hen smiles at the assertion, heart melting slightly at how confident Eddie is in Buck, how much faith he has in him.

Karen, however, is more keen than her, finally pressing on the one point he keeps bringing up again and again. Conversationally, she says: “You know, you keep saying Buck is too nice, but have you ever considered that he wants to be there and it’s not him being too nice for his own good, it’s just him doing what he wants to be doing?”

For a moment, Eddie looks as if a world of possibilities has opened up for him and he reached enlightenment. Then he shuts all those emotions on his face down and groans: “Don’t do that. I’d just won.”

“You just won?” Karen repeats, utterly confused and sharing a look with Hen to see if she knows what he’s talking about.

She doesn’t.

“Yeah, I won,” Eddie tells them, gesturing vaguely as he does. “You know, when you feel or want something you’re not supposed or are allowed to, and then you have to fight until you don’t anymore? I’d just won and now I’m feeling the things again.”

Oh.

Oh no.

No, no, no, no, no.

That’s just sad. That’s way too sad. Hen didn’t sign up for this. She signed up for an oblivious guy who was in love with his best friend, maybe a straight guy she’d reached early enough before he did something stupid and ruined the best friendship he had.

She did not sign up for a deeply repressed homosexual. Panicked, she looks over to Karen, hoping she knows how to take over.

Karen also looks kind of panicked for a moment, before pulling on her game face. She puts her glass down and gently takes Eddie’s hands in her own. Confused he looks at her, which was probably her plan, because she makes sure to keep eye contact as she says: “Nothing – and I mean nothing – you feel or want can be something that’s not allowed or you’re not supposed to. You’re allowed to want things, to feel the things you feel. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Eddie’s jaw clenches and it is clear he’s stubbornly holding back tears as he says: “Yes, there is. I’m the man of the house. There are expectations.”

Fucking hell, Hen already got where Buck was coming from with his ‘fuck Eddie’s parents’-attitude, but she just gained a deeper understanding for it. That’s super fucked up.

Karen, thankfully, has more to say than ‘that’s fucked up’ and instead says: “And what kind of expectations are that?”

“The man of the house protects his family, provides for them. I’ve been doing that for forever,” Eddie answers as if that’s obvious. “I’m a Diaz man, it’s what we do.”

Hen did not expect to be digging into her coworkers childhood trauma when she kidnapped him that afternoon. It feels a bit too personal to go digging herself, so she gladly lets Karen lead this bit. She rightfully points out: “Chris is a Diaz man, do you have those expectations for him?”

“No, of course not,” Eddie frowns. “He’s just a kid. And he’s a great kid, who can be whatever he wants to be. It’s unfair to expect things from him.”

“Then why was it okay for them to expect things from you?” Karen prods gently. “Why do you not deserve what Chris has?”

Eddie falls silent, looking almost stricken. He tears his gaze away from Karen’s eyes to stare emptily at the floor. After a few beats of silence, he softly says: “I- I don’t know.”

“It was unfair of them, to ask that of you,” Karen says. “It was unfair and deep down, you know that too, because you’re not doing the same to Chris. You’re allowed to want things, to feel things. You don’t have to be the man of the house. And you don’t have to win from your feelings.”

“She’s right,” Hen decides to pipe up to drive the point home. “Trust me. You can have the things you want. It’s okay.” She vaguely nods to her surroundings, the house she has, the life, with her wife and her son surrounding her.

The gesture might be vague, but the message is received clearly. Eddie looks around and an understanding look comes over his features. They’ve gotten through to him.

Just when Hen is about to take a relieved breath that they made it through this, a tear leaks out of the corner of one of Eddie’s eyes. It’s followed by another and another, until there are tears streaming down Eddie’s face.

It takes a moment for the rest of him to catch up with the fact that he’s crying, but soon he’s taking shuddering breaths as he weeps, gasping for air as he fails to get enough between each sob.

Karen can’t take it anymore and puts her arm around his shoulders again, opening up her side as an invitation. Eddie doesn’t decline, burying his face into her shoulder as he continues to cry for what feels like forever.

When he can’t seem to get the crying under control no matter how hard he tries, he makes a frustrated noise. Untangling himself from Karen’s hug and furiously wiping at his eyes, before blindly grabbing one of the bottles and emptying it into his glass.

As he starts drinking, Hen cautiously asks: “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay. I’m in love with my friend and I’m drinking saw dust wine,” Eddie says in a voice that’s nasally from the tears.

Apologetically, Karen offers: “I can open another bottle, give you something better to drink?”

“Please, don’t. I still have to face Buck today,” Eddie says, then thinks for a moment and amends: “On second thought, maybe do, because I don’t know how I’m going to face Buck today.”

Karen gets up and comes back with another bottle, saying: “This one is a little fruity.”

Eddie looks up with her, still crying, but also shocked out for it for a moment. Both Karen and Hen are confused until he says: “That’s not funny.”

Hen and Karen process that for a second, before they realize, then burst out into laughter. They feel slightly sorry towards Eddie, but he joins in too after a few moments until they’re all giggling on the couch.

Once they’ve finally caught their breath and calmed down again. Karen clears her throat and holds up the bottle, asking: “You want me to open it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Let me ask you this,” Hen says. “Do you want to talk about it more, or do you want me to text Buck to come pick you up?”

“Talk about it more,” Eddie replies a bit too fast. He explains: “I don’t think I can face him yet. What if I can’t keep my mouth shut when I see him?” He adds in a hushed voice: “I think I’m a little tipsy.”

“You’re definitely past tipsy,” Hen informs him with an amused look. “I’ll get everyone some water instead.”

“Nooo,” Eddie whines. “Then I’ll be sober enough to think about it.”

“You need to hydrate. Drink some water and we might open the bottle of wine,” Hen says, ignoring how Karen pouts at the conditions too.

“Fine,” Eddie sulks.

“Smart choice,” Hen laughs, before getting up.

When she comes back with the water, Karen has thankfully left the bottle unopened on the coffee table, though they have been drinking the already open wines.

Karen has sagged down on the couch. Eddie is beside her, leaning towards her as she leans back towards him. She asks: “So what do you even like about Buck?”

Eddie is red and Hen isn’t sure if it’s the wine or the crush. He ducks into himself and mutters: “He’s nice and funny and pretty, uh, handsome, pretty handsome. And he’s great with Chris. And it’s not hard to talk to him.”

Okay, the stuttering makes Hen decide it’s probably embarrassment, so she swoops in with the water, making sure they both start drinking, before plopping down on her chair again.

Karen has started Eddie up again and he’s now telling her all about how Buck always has his back and how he’s his partner in everything and how they’re best friends and it’s nice. So nice.

It’s a little adorable and Hen maybe films a little bit, so she’ll have something to play on the wedding… or well, the redo of the wedding, when it’s for real. Because that must happen at some point with the way they love each other.

They end up not opening bottle number three, which is a smart plan. Hen only drank one glass, maybe one and a half, so Eddie and Karen both basically drank a bottle a person. And Karen likes wine, it’s a hobby, so she has some sort of tolerance. Eddie? Not so much.

About an hour later and he’s still giggly, albeit a little soberer. He’s been waxing poetics about Buck, then slapping his hand over his mouth and saying he shouldn’t be saying those things, before Karen encourages him again and the cycle repeats.

When he starts up about Buck’s pretty blue eyes for the third time, Hen decides to change the topic. She has to work with Buck too and she doesn’t want to think about this every time she makes eye contact with her coworker. So she asks: “So, are you going to tell Buck about this revelation?”

Eddie’s smile drops immediately and he becomes pale as he violently shakes his head no. “No, no, never, he can never know,” he says without hesitation. “He’s already done so much and it’ll only make it weird and what if he hates me and wants to leave? Chris will be devastated.”

“What if he feels the same?” Hen suggests, though a little carefully.

“Pff, as if. He’s straight,” Eddie snorts in a manner that says ‘don’t be ridiculous.’

And look, a part of Hen wants to shake him and tell him that Buck is very much in love with him too and that’s not going to happen. She does, truly, because this stupidity makes her want to run her head into a wall multiple times.

However, she doesn’t know Eddie, only met him a week ago. And Eddie clearly only acknowledged two hours ago that he’s not straight and in love with his best friend. On top of that, the way he keeps saying he shouldn’t be saying that, means he has a way to go before he’s accepting it.

Hen can’t know how Eddie will react to Buck loving him too. Maybe he’ll be okay, maybe this revelation will get stuffed down again – ‘fought down’ as Eddie said – and that will be bad, very bad for Buck. She simply doesn’t feel comfortable outing anyone, but especially in a situation as precarious as this.

Because it is precarious.

While she doesn’t think it will happen, the possibility of this exploding is still very much open. And if that happens, they’ll have a child together, a house together, a job together and a marriage. That’s not something that can be easily split, take it from someone who needed a lawyer to break up with her girlfriend before they got back together again.

So, she just makes a calming gesture and says: “Okay, okay, that’s fine. You don’t have to tell him if you aren’t ready.”

“I’ll never be ready, I’m taking this to the grave,” Eddie vows.

“That’s fine too,” Hen says.

“A little dramatic, but yeah,” Karen adds.

Eddie pouts at Karen. “I’m not dramatic.”

Karen squeezes his cheek then pats it two times as she says: “Sure you aren’t. You’re just being pouty for no reason.”

“I’m not being pouty,” Eddie pouts harder.

Thankfully, he has forgotten about the scare Hen gave him about potentially telling Buck about his feeling and is distracted by Karen. The protest about pouting turned into kids behavior, which turned into them bitching about pick up line, especially the other parents at the pick up line and their nosiness. Hen just lets them.

Though soon after the fun is over. The shift they came off wasn’t too tiring or busy, but it was a long one and the exhaustion starts to catch up. Hen can feel it herself and she can see Eddie nodding off here and there too.

So, she steps into the hallway and calls Buck, who immediately picks up: “Hen, why did Eddie text me that you know and are taking him to meet your wife?”

“Because I do know and I did take him to meet my wife,” Hen tells him as if that’s not strange. “I need you to come pick him up.”

“What did you do to him?” Buck asks.

“Why are you so distrustful?” Hen shoots back.

“Because you have sensitive information,” Buck guffaws.

“That I promised not to tell,” Hen says. “And I didn’t. We just drank some wine – Eddie is apparently a great wine taster – and heard his side of the story. You never did tell us how you two met. Not as romantic as I envisaged.”

“Oh fuck off,” Buck says, though he sounds relieved. “And he’s okay?”

“On the wrong side of tipsy, but doing great. He has a lot of opinions about one Janet.”

“From pick up line?” Buck asks surprised, before – less surprised – he adds: “Of course he does, Janet is a bitch.”

“Okay, so you share opinions about Janet,” Hen replies with amusement. “Can you come pick him up? I want to get my post shift nap in, before me and Karen go out for dinner. It’s date night.”

“Yeah, sure, text me the address,” Buck says. “Is it going to be a quick in and out or like a long thing, because I’m just gonna buckle Chris in and take him with me, but I’ll leave him in the car if it’s quick.”

Hen glances over to Eddie, who is now fully sleeping on the couch, while Karen plays a game on her phone next to him. “It’ll probably be a quick in and out.”

“Alright, see you in a bit.”

“See you in a bit.”

Indeed Buck shows up a little while later. Hen opens the door for him, shooting a curious look at the jeep to see a young boy with brown curls and thick, red glasses reading a book in the backseat.

“He’s been really into this book series recently, so he’s practically shut off from the world,” Buck says when he follows her eyes for a second. Then he claps his hands and says: “Now, show me the patient.”

At this point, the patient in question is fully sleeping on the couch, a rosy flush still on his cheeks. The sight actually stops Buck in his tracks for a second and Hen mentally files that away to make fun of him for later.

He quickly shakes Karen’s hand introducing himself as she giggles. She’s probably connecting the things Eddie just said about Buck to Buck and can’t keep a straight face, or just plain laughing because of the same thing Hen just filed away, since the wine stripped her off the ability to keep it in. Buck is a little confused, but takes it in stride, before going to study Eddie, seemingly trying to make a decision.

Buck watches Eddie doze for a second, trying to decide whether he’s going to disturb his sleep or bruise his ego and just pick him up to tuck into bed at home. In the end, he decides on waking him up. He doesn’t know what kind of conversation he’s had with Hen and Karen and he doesn’t want to push more.

After a beat or two, he gently nudges Eddie’s shoulder, softly saying: “Hey, Eddie, it’s time to wake up, okay? We’re gonna go home.”

Eddie’s face screws up and he burrows his face further into the couch cushions as he wines: “I don’t want to go home. I wanna stay with my new friend, Karen. She’s really nice.”

“I’m glad you had fun,” Buck says, looking highly amused. “It’s good that you made a friend, but we’re gonna go home now.”

“You’re mean,” Eddie says, popping up to pout at Buck. Though whatever he wanted to say, seems to die on his lips when he spots Buck. Instead an awed, very in love expression coming onto his features.

Buck is oblivious to this, snorting and shaking his head, before he huffs: “Yeah, the meanest. Now, up you go, Chris is waiting in the car.”

“Chris!” Eddie lights up at the mention of his son. “He’s here?” he asks, looking around.

“He’s in the car outside, you gotta get up and say bye to Hen and Karen and then we’ll go see Chris, yeah?”

“Alright,” Eddie groans, before holding up both his hands.

Buck hesitates for a moment, then grabs them and pulls Eddie onto his feet. Immediately Eddie stumbles forward, half draping himself over Buck as he complains: “My legs are jello. Too much wine.”

“Sure, wine,” Karen snorts, then giggles.

Eddie half glares at her from his position on Buck’s shoulder and mutters: “Shut up.”

“Okay, that is enough hospitality from Hen and Karen for today,” Buck decides, bending forward slightly and picking Eddie up, who goes easily, though with a small yelp and a flush on his face.

This time Buck sees Hen take a picture of them and gives her the middle finger, before asking: “Will you help with the doors, I need to get this lightweight to the car.”

“I’m not a lightweight,” Eddie protests, even while making no move to get put down again, instead making himself comfortable.

“Sure you aren’t,” Buck says affectionately.

“I’m not,” Eddie frowns. “I just haven’t drank much in a while, I don’t know if you remembered, but I got shot. I wasn’t allowed to drink.” A beat. “And clubs are stupid.”

Hen sees Buck’s face become pinched when Eddie references his injury so casually, but you can’t hear it in his voice when he agrees: “Okay, you’re not a lightweight. Hen, the doors?”

“Yeah, sure, no problem,” Hen quickly says, moving forward to open the front door and slipping out so she can get the car.

As Buck follows behind her, he calls out a greeting to Karen, who stays on the porch. From where he is half slung over Buck’s shoulder, Eddie waves cheerfully, any earlier grudge forgotten as he calls out a goodbye.

Karen waves back, yelling: “Come by again, we’ll try more wine.”

Hen can hear Buck mutter, “That sounds like a bad idea,” but it is mostly drowned out by Eddie yelling back: “Sounds fun. Text me?”

“I will,” Karen calls out, even though she doesn’t have his number. Hen will probably have to give it to her later.

Meanwhile, they’ve arrived at the car and Hen has opened the door. As Buck wrestles Eddie into the passenger seat, Hen focuses on Chris, who has rolled his window down and is curiously looking at his two dads.

“Hi, I’m Hen, I work with your dads,” she introduces herself.

Now Chris looks at her, smiling: “I’m Christopher, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Hen smiles. “You okay back there?”

“Yes, I’m reading,” Chris tells her in an unbothered cheerful manner. “Papi says daddy had a little party with his friends, are you and that lady his friends?”

“We are. That’s my wife, Karen,” Hen says. “Your daddy is acting a little silly right now because of our little party, hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s okay, we’re just glad he’s making friends,” Chris says in that candid way only a child can. Then he whispers: “Daddy doesn’t like people very much.”

Hen laughs at that and says: “Well, he seemed to have fun. So, he at least likes some people. Have a good day, alright?”

“I will, you too,” Chris smiles, then turns back to his book.

Buck is now done with getting Eddie into the car, closing the door with a slam. Eddie is leaning back in his seat to say hi to Chris and is distracted. After one last glance to make sure he’s okay, Buck turns to Hen and says: “I would say thank you for looking out for him, but I feel like you were also involved.”

“I was,” Hen doesn’t deny it. “But it was mostly them. Seems like Eddie made a friend.”

“I’m glad they got along,” Buck gives in after a moment. Then he’s quiet for a moment, before he says: “Did anything weird come up or something? What did you even talk about?”

“Not much,” Hen shrugs. “I just wanted to know his side of the story, fill in the blanks you know. He told us a little more about how the two of you ended up married and all that. But we also just talked about the wine and school pick up, that sort of stuff.”

“Okay,” Buck nods, more to himself. “And you’re not going to tell Bobby?”

“Nah,” Hen says. “Not unless you two make it a problem at work. Are you planning on behaving unprofessionally, Buckley?” she ends pointedly, giving a look over her glasses.

Unconsciously, Buck straightens up under her gaze and shakes his head: “No, ma’am.”

Hen smiles pleasantly: “Then I see no reason to tell. See you next shift.”

“Yeah, till next shift.”

She joins Karen on the porch, watching Buck back out of their driveway. Eddie has moved on from talking to Chris, who clearly has more interest in reading his book, to messing with the radio. Buck bats his hand away when he finds something Buck must like and he pouts at him.

However, Buck is too busy backing out at that point and doesn’t notice. Because of that, he also doesn’t notice the flushed, mushy look that comes onto Eddie’s face for a moment when he looks at the muscular arm resting on his seat, before he quickly looks away.

In doing so, he catches Karen looking and she wiggles her eyebrows at him, which only make him blush more as he pointedly looks away from her.

When the jeep has disappeared from view, Hen throws an arm around Karen and asks: “So, was meeting Eddie like you’d hoped?”

“Better,” Karen grins brightly. “I think he’s going to wake up with a headache and a passion for wine. It is going to be so fun to have more wine nights.”

“You’re a little manipulator, aren’t you,” Hen says fondly, kissing her forehead.

Karen leans into the kiss as she shrugs: “I don’t think he’s getting Pandora’s box closed again, he’s going to need a friend. Two birds in one stone if you ask me.”

Next shift is slightly weird, because now it’s not just Buck and Hen, and Buck and Eddie in on a secret, but Buck, Eddie and Hen that are in on the secret. And on top of that, Hen is now the holder of the ‘in love with my best friend’-secret for both Buck and Eddie.

Chimney picks up on the weird vibes and brings it up a few hours into their shift. “I feel like you’re all in on something and I wasn’t invited.”

They all freeze for a moment, before Buck clumsily says: “You’re right. We created the ‘our name is not an object’-club and we’ve been keeping it a secret.”

It’s very clearly a lie, but it’s so ridiculous that it kind of sounds like Buck making fun of Chimney for seeing something that’s not there. So it works in their favor.

“Oi, you’re name is also an object, dumbass,” Chimney decides to take offense with Buck’s lie anyway. “I mean, can I borrow a buck; ring any bells? Or Hen, hen is a thing, it’s a chicken.”

“Oh my god, my name is an object,” Buck mutters, having a crisis over that.

Eddie, however, protests part of Chimney’s statement: “Hey, a chicken is an animal, not an object. You think animals are just things? Chickens are great.”

That gets a smile out of Buck that Hen doesn’t get, before he joins in on it, while Chimney desperately tries to defend himself. The whole thing is so absurd that it breaks the tension between all of them and they settle back into their pre-wine drunk Eddie routine.

Some things do change, since Buck and Eddie emergency babysit Denny that one time when their usual babysitter fell through on date night, and Eddie and Karen have become actual friends, texting and even drinking more wine a few more times.

Hen can’t say for sure what happens all the time when they do, because she actually got kicked out of her own house for wine club last time – something the two of them probably came up with on the spot – so she and Buck ended up taking Chris and Denny to the movies that evening, since the two get along and it was better than sitting around doing nothing.

However, overall, it’s normal. They have a dynamic.

Two months into Eddie working there, that balance gets thrown off again when a new variable gets introduced; Maddie Buckley.

When she suddenly appears in the firehouse, Hen has to do a double take and reassess her view of Buck once more. She already knew he could keep secrets, but with how bad a liar he was and how many secrets she has already gotten out of him, she honestly thought there wouldn’t be any more. However, he is like a vault when it comes to secrets and it surprises her anyway.

Maddie seems like a nice person and Hen hates that what she thinks is implied happened to her. And she hopes Maddie settles in here okay with Buck and Eddie, especially since Buck looks so heartbreakingly hopeful when he asks her to hang around.

Hen can’t imagine what that must be like, to have a sibling you love so much be so far away and hurting and to have them here now and feel like they’ll slip away.

When Buck comes in next shift, they all ask about it of course. He smiles and says she’s doing good and taking the sharing with Buck well, from which Hen infers she must have gotten the whole marriage of convenience and son run down and is taking that well.

However, she doesn’t get any further information until their first weekend off when there is sudden knocking at the door. She opens it to find a frazzled looking Eddie asking: “Is Karen home?”

“Also hello to you,” Hen says, opening the door wider. “Karen is in the kitchen.”

“Ah, yeah, hello,” Eddie says, brushing past her. “It’s an emergency.”

“Emergency?” Hen repeats to herself. “We’re first responders, why does he need Karen for an emergency?” She stands by the open door in confusion for two seconds, before shaking herself out of it and going to see what this emergency is.

Apparently it’s serious, because when she gets there, Karen has made tea and is setting it down in front of Eddie, asking: “Alright, so tell me. What’s the problem?”

“Maddie,” Eddie groans.

“As in Buck’s sister? She seemed nice,” Hen comments as she sits down too.

“She is, she is,” Eddie assures them. “It’s just also horrible.”

“How so?” Karen asks.

“I-” Eddie stops for a second. “I’ve never had to impress in-laws before. I met Shannon’s mom once, but that was just after she’d given birth and that had been so stressful that I didn’t even think to be stressed about that. But with Maddie, I actually want her to like me, but I don’t want her to know that I want her to like me.”

“Okay, explain that one to me,” Karen requests.

“Well, if I want her to like me, that’s suspicious and she’s already suspicious of me, because I’ve basically trapped her baby brother in a marriage, so she keeps side eyeing me and Buck doesn’t notice, because he’s too happy to have his sister back and Chris is a kid, who is still excited about the novel tía he discovered so it’s just her and me, locked in this stand off,” Eddie explains. “And that’s not even touching on the bed situation.”

“We’re coming back to the bed situation,” Karen tells him, before moving on. “Why is she suspicious of you? You didn’t trap Buck into that marriage. Doesn’t she know that?”

“She does. We – well, Buck – did explain that after she yelled at me. A lot,” Eddie says, looking kind of scared at the memory. “But it’s not a good look, is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at it from her perspective. Buck married me for my benefit and she knows he has that big heart of his and she’s definitely protective of it – which I understand with their childhood – so she doesn’t trust that at all. And we were meant to be divorced, but we aren’t, so it only looks like I’m trapping him more, because it’s easy. Taking advantage of him. And me being the one that came up with lying about it at work, that looks even worse!”

“Okay, yeah, I can understand how that might seem a little bad at first glance,” Karen winces sympathetically.

“But Buck talked to her about it, right? She knows that’s not what’s happening, right?” Hen asks, unable to believe Buck wouldn’t set the record straight when Maddie yelled at Eddie ‘a lot.’

“He did. I wasn’t there when he did, so I don’t know what he said and she now only seems to tolerate my presence, but there is something she hates about me and I can’t figure out what and it’s stressing me out,” Eddie exclaims.

Hen and Karen exchange a look at that. If Buck talked to Maddie without Eddie there, he might have told him he’s in love with him, which means Maddie probably thinks Eddie is playing with her little brother’s heart. That’s not an easy one to come back from.

Eddie misses the glance due to the despair and Karen pats his back as she says: “I’m sure she’ll come around. You’re a great guy. She’s only just got here, she’s probably waiting to see what kind of person you are, before committing to liking you.”

“I hope so,” Eddie says miserably.

“Don’t be like that, I liked you immediately. Maybe you should ask her to wine night, seeing you tipsy will warm her up to you,” Karen suggests.

Eddie sends her a deadpan look. “I don’t think me waxing poetry about her baby brother’s muscles is going to warm her up to me, Karen.”

“Maybe not the muscles, but your one about his eyes is pretty good,” Karen grins.

“I hate you,” Eddie blushes.

“I know,” Karen tells him unbothered. “So, tell me about this bed situation.”

Somehow, Eddie becomes pinker as he confesses: “Buck gave Maddie his room, so we’ve been sharing my bed again.”

“Again?” both Karen and Hen repeat quite loudly.

“Yeah, we shared back in Texas, since we only had one bedroom, but then we didn’t share-share often, because I worked nights and he worked days, so it was more that we both used the bed. Now, we’re sharing and-” Eddie swallows and doesn’t look either of them in the eye as he continues, “Buck is a hugger.”

Hen forces her face into something neutral, not wanting to do anything suggestive that would make Eddie uncomfortable. Karen, on the other hand, has no such issues, whistling and wiggling her eyebrows in that adorably dorky way of hers.

“Shut up,” Eddie hisses, more embarrassed than genuinely put off as he buries his face in his arms, slumping over the table.

Karen gives a quick side bar to Hen, explaining: “Eddie recently discovered what sexual attraction feels like.”

“Is that why I got kicked out last wine night?” Hen asks.

She nods and apologetically says: “Yeaaah, he had to talk it through with someone who doesn’t work with Buck. But for now, he’s… coping.”

“I’m not coping,” Eddie calls out, voice muffled by his arms. “This is the worst. I wake up every day with his warm body plastered to my back and his strong arm pinning me to the bed.”

“Oh, sounds terrible,” Karen says sarcastically.

“Just because you can lick your spouse’s muscles, doesn’t mean I can,” Eddie mutters spitefully.

Hen realizes that this is a two way street and she has also been a topic of conversation. Scandalized, she slaps Karen’s arm lightly as she gasps: “Karen.”

“What? It’s nothing bad, everyone knows I like your muscles. It’s nothing I wouldn’t mention to my mom,” Karen defends herself.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, Hen,” Eddie backs Karen up, having come out of the hiding spot in his arms to do so.

Suspiciously Hen looks between the two for a moment, before she believes them. “Okay, but don’t tell him anything too weird.”

“I’d never do that,” Karen promises solemnly.

Then the conversation is broken from a yell from deeper in the house. “Mama, can you help me with my biology homework?”

Happy to extract herself from the situation, Hen calls back: “Of course, sweetheart, I’m on my way,” already halfway out her chair, before she’s done.

By the time Denny understands his biology homework and has filled in all the sheets they were assigned, Eddie and Karen must have come up with some plan to tackle the Maddie and bed sharing situation, because when Hen joins them again, Karen is recounting the drama from the farmer’s market to Eddie, when Fred accused Hendrick of using a pesticide.

Eddie is properly engaged with the conversation, gasping and exclaiming at the right points and interjecting his own opinion, despite not being present or knowing any of the people involved. He looks comfortable, at home in his skin. Hen thinks he’s come a long way from the kind of uptight, nervous, professional man she met that first day.

They all continue chatting for a little more, until Eddie decides that he really must be heading home. So, they see him out.

At the door, Karen pep talks him a little more. “Just be yourself and show her how much you care. Give it some time and you’re gonna be just fine.”

“I’m gonna be fine,” Eddie repeats determinedly. Before adding, “I hope.”

“That’s the spirit,” Karen says cheerfully. “And if all else fails, you can always still tell her that you’re just madly in love with Buck and have no ill intentions towards him and would never hurt him, so she shouldn’t worry.”

Going off Eddie’s look, it is clear that this is not the first time Karen has suggested it. Mentally, Hen can’t help, but agree with the suggestion. Eddie not so much. He just glares: “I’m not going to do that.”

With that, they say their goodbyes.

Next shift, Hen is dying to ask how it’s going, maybe even prod a little. She watches Buck complain about the traffic after bringing Maddie to work and she is just about to tease by asking him, if he at least slept well, when the ground starts to shake. An earthquake.

Any thoughts of teasing Buck are thrown out the window as they all pull out and get to work. A natural disaster is bad for anyone, but it will prove especially busy for first responders.

Hen is right in that regard, she doesn’t get a moment of peace to catch her breath, until she herself has become trapped in the parking garage of a hotel that is about to collapse on top of her. It’s not the most ideal break, if she’s honest.

She’s sitting there. Dust in her lungs and her eyes. Her muscles ache and her throat is sore. And, most of all, she’s tired. Exhausted really.

Thoughts about anything from before this moment are wiped away and nothing exists in that moment, except her shaking breaths, stuttering heartbeat and ringing in her ears. Around her the dark space is pressing down on her.

In that moment, the only two things she can think are 1) I am going to die down here, and 2) I am never going to see my family again, never going to see Denny and Karen again.

It’s a terrifying thing.

Nothing like a natural disaster to make you realize how close you are to losing all you have. All you hold dear.

Tears push at her eyes and she’s very aware of the dead body not that far away from her. She tries to remember if she said a proper goodbye like she always tries to do before she left, or if she’d been in a hurry this morning. Tries to remember if she told Karen she loves her.

She wants to make sure Karen knows how much she loves her. How much she loves this family they have together. That Hen never wants to lose her. That she would do anything to come home to her, but the situation is just so hopeless.

Unable to just sit still and do nothing, Hen takes out her phone and records a message for Karen. She would call, but cell service is still down. She doesn’t get to hear Karen’s voice again and that thought breaks her heart.

Hen holds the phone up and records what will likely be her final words with a voice that is squeezed by a tightness in her throat and halted by her brain.

When she’s done. She nearly tosses it in frustration as very real tears start to fall down her face. She doesn’t want to die like this. Helpless. She doesn’t want to die at all. She wants to come home, see her wife and her kid. She wants to live, dammit. She wants to live!

With a loud yells she starts moving again, starts trying to find a way out again. Wilsons have always been stubborn and by god, is she not going to stop today.

It feels almost like a miracle when Paisley saves the day, showing her the way out and leading her to the little girl she’d been trying to find. So many tragedies happen on days like these and just a few moments before, Hen had almost resigned herself to becoming one of them. Instead, she is a rare instance of good fortune.

She is absolutely exhausted and just ready to go home. She has called Karen when Chimney was done checking her over, didn’t mention how close she got, just told her that she loved her very much and would be home soon, bringing a friend with her. Paisley deserves a good home.

Hen is so out of it, she doesn’t even think to act surprised when Bobby seems to know about Chris. She just nods at Eddie’s smile, she knows the feeling. The first earthquake always is the roughest, especially with loved ones out there, with a kid out there.

Buck also seems way more relaxed and there is something about him that lights up. Same goes for Eddie, Hen supposes they’re just excited to have survived such a big disaster. That their whole family did. Both of them are quite new to the game.

So, she doesn’t pay their weirdness any mind and doesn’t blink when Buck calls Eddie over so he can drive them both home, before they can even get out of the firehouse. His eyes swimming with delight as he says: “You pulled a woman up with your bare arms today. You shouldn’t be driving.”

It’s pretty daring for them with the secret they have, but Eddie doesn’t seem to bat an eye, instead thrilled to take Buck up on the offer.

At home, Hen takes a few seconds to introduce Paisley and explain why she had to bring her home, then she face plants onto her wife, hugging her tight and knocking out for about twelve hours. It’s a pretty normal routine for a big disaster aftermath.

In fact, everything is so normal that she didn’t pick up on anything and gets completely blind-sighted when coming into work next shift. Because Eddie and Buck come in together and they’re slightly late as well.

Together they make their way up the stairs, but they don’t join everyone like normal, instead stopping a few paces away and standing there awkwardly, until Bobby notices and asks: “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine, we just, uh…” Buck starts, before trailing off, unsure how to say whatever he needs to say.

Helplessly, he looks over at Eddie, who squares his shoulders and tilts his head defiantly. He grabs Buck’s hand and announces: “Me and Buck started dating.”

A shocked silence falls over the room. It last for about two beats, then:

“YOU DID WHAT? You- You! You! I can’t believe you two. Months. Months! I had to deal with your bullshit for months. And this is how I find out? You didn’t even tell me first?? I got to find out with everyone else? This is so rude. When the fuck did that even happen?”

The two of them blink a few times at her outburst, then start to explain at the same time. Buck starts: “It happened during the earthquake and you’d just been through a lot.” And Eddie adds: “It was spur of the moment with the elevator. Buck nearly died.” “Uh-huh, and then it was kind of new and we still had to talk.” “And over text was weird and we were going to see you anyway.”

Then suddenly, Buck pauses, before he can make his next excuse and says: “Wait, Eddie told you he liked me?”

Hen gives him an ‘are you for real?’-look and says: “What do you think happened at wine night?”

“Wait, you told her you liked me?” Eddie also realizes what Buck had moments before.

��How do you think I knew?” Hen exclaims, utterly done with these two idiots. She can’t believe she got invested and that is the thanks she gets.

Before the two can start squabbling, Bobby steps in: “Okay, okay, why don’t we all calm down for a bit, yeah? It’s clear there is more to this, but for now. Buck, Eddie, congratulations, but there will be paperwork and this might get you separated.” The two nod. They understand.

Then Chimney pipes up: “Hen, did you just say months? Was that what that first day was? A misfiring of horny Buck’s brain?”

“Don’t call it that,” Buck protests.

In the background, Bobby excuses himself to get the paperwork, which Hen respects, however, she wants to see whatever train wreck this turns out to be.

“What do you mean, don’t call it that? It’s what it is right? Your brain telling you ‘fuck that guy’ and you not realizing that was an instruction?” Chimney argues.

Buck jumps him, slapping his hand over Chimney’s mouth as he chants: “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” while in the background Eddie turns a bright pink. Hen isn’t going to save them, this is pay back for not telling her first.

However, she is going to ask: “So, how did it happen?” in a loud voice, which ends the fight, because Chimney is curious too and Buck gets stopped by the love struck look on his face.

“Uh, we were rescuing these two people by going down the elevator shaft. Halfway through it started creaking and coming down. It-” Eddie has to swallow thickly when reliving the moment. “It nearly killed Buck. I- I thought I was going to lose him.”

“You didn’t lose me,” Buck says, squeezing Eddie’s shoulder and looking him in the eye intently.

You can see how Eddie melts when he meets Buck’s eyes and Hen’s heart does a little ‘ahw’ at the sight, momentarily forgetting she’s annoyed with them.

“And so what? You just kissed him or some shit?” Chimney asks, ruining the moment.

Eddie snaps out of his getting lost in Buck’s eyes shtick and blushes brightly, not meeting anyone’s eyes as he does. Delighted, Chimney crows: “Oh wow, you totally just kissed him.”

“It was romantic!” Eddie protests.

“I liked it,” Buck pipes up.

Wildly, he gestures at Buck. “See, he liked it.”

“God, you two are made for each other,” Hen mutters to herself.

Before it can all spiral again, Bobby comes back carrying a stack of paper. He puts two piles down on the table and says: “You two need to fill these in, before you can continue answering questions. I’ll hand them over to the brass with my observations and we’ll see what they decide. Until then, we work this shift as usual. No funny business.”

Eddie is still pink, but Buck mostly looks sheepish. Both of them say: “Yes, sir,” before sitting down and filling in the paperwork.

Hen can tell Bobby and Chimney are itching to ask more as much as she is. However, they all wait until Buck and Eddie filled in all the paperwork before they do. The second they hand it over, Chimney starts asking something, but before he can even finish the first sound, Bobby cuts him off by stating: “You both wrote down that you’re married.”

Chimney chokes on whatever he was going to say, coughing a few times, before he squeezes out: “I thought only lesbians moved that fast,” which makes Hen snort.

Bobby sends Buck and Eddie a concerned look. “Is that true? Are you two married?”

“Uh, yes, sir,” Eddie says.

“We thought it’d be best to just be honest now that it’s real,” Buck adds.

And Hen remembers they didn’t say, because it wasn’t real anyway. She supposes that has changed, though she can’t believe this is the way they’re sharing that. They are so dumb, she thinks to herself.

“And how long has that been going on?”

“A few years, Cap,” Buck grins, only mildly apologetic.

Again all hell breaks lose and this time Hen exclaims, “Oh my god,” out loud, before needing to walk away, just be anywhere but there. She already knows the story anyway and she cannot deal with any of this right now.

She goes to the locker rooms and just sits down for a moment, needing to regroup. This is both the funniest thing that has ever happened to her and one of the more off the walls things, which is saying a lot given her line of work.

Without thinking, she pulls out her phone and dials the most familiar number. After a few rings, Karen picks up. Hen doesn’t greet her, just says: “You’re never going to guess what just happened.”

~~

A/N:

My toxic writer trait (joking) is that I will find a reason to insert Karen Wilson (and Henren in general) into any 9-1-1 fic if I can, I am a lesbian and I shall not be shamed xp

(I hate the cheater arc so goddamn much and I hate that it became relevant in the main fic and I am very happily cutting it here <3)

Also I really liked exploring Hen’s POV when she thought Buck just wasn’t out, because it’s not morally wrong to be closeted, to not want to share that, especially at work. It doesn’t make you a bad person to keep things private, no matter how accepting an environment will probably be. And it was so interesting – and a little cathartic (hi, semi-closeted bitch here) – to write those little moments where it was obvious to Hen, because she knew, but not to anyone else and how that can hurt sometimes.

I am not immune to Karen and Eddie becoming besties, it is a good fanon trope and I gladly incorporate it into my perception of the show

And I know, a little fade to black ending, but this already got too far out of hand and I thought it was a neat little ending :D

[pathologicalreid]

a love song for lady earth | s.r.

in which reader has her first experience with munch!spencer

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: oral (fem receiving), munch!spencer, a little bit of overstim, d/s dynamics if you spin in circles and then squint, pwp, cumming untouched, fingering, dirty talk, a little praise word count: 2.16k a/n: this one goes out to everyone who's ever gotten shitty head from shitty guys. also to people who like their men a little pathetic.

“What are you doing?” Your voice comes out higher than you anticipated. The slight panic in your tone sets your boyfriend on high alert, his eyebrows rising in curiosity as he hovers over you.

Spencer pulls himself up until you meet his eyes, concern and lust fusing together to create nothing short of confusion. He studies your expression, investigating your interruption with the kind of delicacy that he always has when approaching intimacy, “Baby,” he starts, “Have you ever received oral sex before?”

Your lips part in surprise, wondering why that’s the conclusion he comes to, “I have,” you respond hesitantly. “I just—” you falter, “You don’t have to.”

His confusion deepens, “I don’t have to what?”

“You don’t have to give me head,” you answer timidly, “Because it’s not— you just don’t have to.”

Languidly, Spencer drags his fingertips up and down your inner thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “It’s not what? Now you have to tell me.”

You groan in frustration, looking up at the ceiling fan while you search for words that won’t set your cheeks ablaze, “I don’t like it, and I know guys don’t like it. So, you just… we can skip that part.”

“Just out of curiosity, what about it don’t you like?” Spencer asks, sitting up fully between your legs, one hand resting on your knee, keeping your legs parted.

Looking down at him, you chew on the inside of your lip, knowing you have his undivided attention when you speak up, “I just don’t get any pleasure out of a guy trying to French with my vagina while I fake moan.”

“Ah,” Spencer breathes, “So, you’ve never received good oral sex before,” he amends his previous question.

Propping yourself up on your hands, you raise your eyebrows doubtfully, “I’m not entirely convinced there is such a thing, and will you please stop calling it oral sex? It sounds so clinical.”

He crawls over to you, putting his face right in front of yours, “Do you trust me?”

You frown, “Of course I do, what does that have to do with any of this?”

“Would you be willing to let me go down on you?” The earnestness in his tone catches you by surprise. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he wants to eat you out.

Humming affectionately, you tilt your head at him, “Do you really want to? I always thought guys hated doing it.”

Spencer raises his eyebrows, “Then I guess that demographic doesn’t apply to me.”

“Oh,” you breathe, “You can… We can try,” you offer. Nerves twist in your lower belly as his eyes widen ever so slightly, your eyes fall shut as he leans his head forward, pressing his lips to yours while his hand starts to pull at the waistband of your panties.

Your boyfriend’s lips are almost unfairly soft against your own as his hands continue to undress you, pushing your t-shirt up around your waist and pulling down your underwear to the middle of your thighs. Pressing his forehead against yours, Spencer pulls away ever so slightly, “You can always tell me if you want me to stop, alright?”

Nodding, you can’t help but be curious about his plan. You find yourself questioning every partner you’ve had in the past, or maybe Spencer just has a special talent with his mouth—he certainly was good at running it. “Yes,” you say, kissing him again before he moves his head down.

“Thank you,” he mutters, bringing his head back down to where it was before you’d stopped him. Spencer lazily drags your panties down your legs, flinging them across the room to be found later before dropping his head between your knees, littering small, slow kisses along the insides of your thighs. “Pretty girl,” he hums, inspecting your glistening sex with peaked interest.

Your cunt clenches around nothing at his words, earning a chuckle from Spencer as he set on top of your mound, pulling the skin taut before blowing cool air on you. You jump in response, looking down at where he’s smirking from between your legs. Admittedly, you’d never felt so dizzy at the prospect of having a man go down on you, he just looks so pretty.

He hums absentmindedly, “Just making sure you’re paying attention,” he teases.

There could be an air raid siren going off and you’d still be too focused on him to take cover. His movements are calculated as he exposes your clit to the air, leaning his head down and pressing his tongue flat against your folds, licking a stripe before readjusting himself on the bed.

A constellation of feather-light kisses is left everywhere, your inner thighs, up toward your hip bone—everywhere except where you really need him. Your clit aches with need as he continues to tease you, the pad of his thumb skimming ever so slightly over the sensitive bud, relieving only a fraction of the pressure that’s building up. “Spence,” you breathe.

“Are you enjoying this?” He asks, lifting his head up and looking at you curiously.

You nod once, “Are you?” You challenge.

His head drops again, and your breath hitches when he answers, “Immensely.”

Spencer continues but doesn’t move on, studying your anatomy so intently that it only serves to turn you on even more. His hand ghosts over your folds, running a finger over your slit and chuckling when your hips buck up in response to the stimulation.

He could’ve gotten you to beg, had that been his goal, you would’ve babbled please so incessantly that the word no longer held any meaning, but that wasn’t what Spencer wanted. He wanted you to enjoy receiving pleasure in a way that no man had ever wanted before.

“You’re just so fucking perfect,” he murmurs, watching you intently.

Before you had a chance to reply, his mouth was on you again, his tongue deftly slipping between your folds and poking at your entrance. Other than working you up, you didn’t feel any different than you had previously. You give a gentle hum of encouragement—at least he tried, and at least you’d be wet enough for sex.

Spencer curls his tongue, dragging your slick up to your clit, and that’s where he finally got you. His tongue pressed firmly against the bundle of nerves as you squirm beneath him, your body moving faster than your brain as your hips move away from his mouth, “Shh,” Spencer coos, “It’s okay, baby. I know it’s a lot. I’ve got you.”

Taking a deep shuddering breath, you nod. You open your mouth to form a reply, but the only thing that comes out is a breathy sigh.

Carefully, Spencer moves your legs, placing your thighs on top of his shoulders, giving you one more glance before diving back in, kitten-licking your clit while you try to catch your breath.

“Spence,” you cry, feeling an orgasm that you previously hadn’t thought was possible building in your lower belly. A swarm of nerves and aches of pleasure thrumming through your body like electricity.

He readjusts, lifting his head more so that his lips can wrap around the sensitive nub, his mouth gently suckling on it.

At a loss for what to do with your hand, they find their way down to his head, weaving your fingers through his hair as his ministrations drive you closer and closer to an orgasm. Tugging at the soft curls earns a groan from him, the vibrations on your clit causing you to cry out, “Oh my god.”

He drops one of your legs, moving his hand up to grab one of yours before you cum, squeezing his hand as he gently nips at your clit, further encouraging your orgasm.

“I’m— ah, please,” you babble nervously, inhaling sharply as your orgasm washes over you, cunt clenching around nothing as Spencer’s mouth continues working at you, licking softly as your back arches off of the bed, sweat causing the sheets to stick to your skin.

Your thighs are trembling by the time Spencer comes back up, his mouth shining with your arousal as he breathes as heavily as you. His hand cups your sensitive sex when he leans forward, leaning in to kiss your lips.

The taste of yourself on his lips doesn’t even cross your mind as you cup the back of his head and pull his mouth to yours. The tang of your own cunt on your tongue draws a moan from the back of your throat, and you jump when one of Spencer’s fingers gently teases your interest, the sensitivity from your previous orgasm making your head spin.

“Can I go back?” Spencer asks, looking down at his hand briefly before returning to your eyes for permission.

Your mouth gapes, “You want more?”

He groans in response, “Angel, I’d spend all day between your thighs if you’d let me.”

Your stomach flips, mourning the fact that you had plans in the afternoon, “I might just take you up on that someday.”

Lifting your body from the pillows, Spencer tugs your t-shirt the rest of the way off your body, leaving you fully nude in front of him, “Fuck,” he groans, gently guiding your back to the mattress as he attaches his lips to your neck, leaving your fingers clawing at his back.

His head moves lower, nipping and sucking at your collarbones, leaving light marks as he makes his way down to your chest. His lips scatter kisses all along your breasts as he moves down, down, down. Right until he’s right where you want him, and right where he wants to be. “Oh,” you whimper, taking in a shaky breath while he tentatively presses his index finger into your wet hole.

“Poor baby,” Spencer coos at your sensitivity, “You’re doing so well, letting me fuck you with my mouth. All you needed was someone to suck your clit.”

You sigh dazedly in response, every thought in your mind evacuating as his mouth drops to your pussy again, languidly lapping at your cunt while his finger eases into you, “You’re so good at this.”

He hums against you in response, the vibrations causing your body to shudder and your hands to return to their home in his hair. The feeling of his mouth gently sucking on that little bundle of nerves and his finger starting to thrust makes your walls clench.

A strangled moan escapes your mouth when he adds a second finger, his second and third fingers driving into you with a steady rhythm as his tongue flicks your clit in calculated movements. The recognition of your impending orgasm hits you, “’m close,” you breathe, gasping as his movements don’t relent, tears prick at your eyes as you chase that high.

Spencer pushes your legs further apart with his spare hand, keeping your thighs from closing around his head as he moans against your cunt. You pull on his hair, eliciting another groan from him that sends you hurtling into your second orgasm, crying out his name like a prayer as he tapers off his ministrations.

His hand slows first, gently working you through your orgasm as his tongue laps at your clit, gentle movements soothing the hypersensitive spot as you catch your breath, tears trickling down your cheeks as you smooth out the hair on his head. He pulls away from you, releasing your trembling thighs and letting them fall around him as he tiredly rests his head on your abdomen. “Spence,” you whisper, combing your fingers through his hair, causing him to rest his chin on you, meeting your eyes as he wipes your slick from his mouth.

He hums a response, “My love,” he murmurs, eyes closing as he enjoys the feeling of you playing with his hair.

You chew on the inside of your lip nervously, “Do… do you need me?” Your question was tentative, unsure if he wants you to reciprocate.

“Uh,” he says, equally as unsure, “That’s not necessary.”

You raise your eyebrows, “It’s not like I feel inclined to, but I’d like to… to return the favor.”

Spencer shakes his head, “No, I mean I’m taken care of. I already…” his voice trails off, leaving you to fill in the blanks.

“Oh,” you breathe, “Oh.” Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, hiding your smile, “Well I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” Desperately. You were trying desperately not to laugh at the prospect of your boyfriend cumming in his briefs.

He rolls his eyes in response, clearly unbothered. He seems almost proud, and you suppose it’s not often that a man finishes from giving head. “So,” he starts, moving his hand and using his fingertips to draw stars across your bare skin, “Did you enjoy it?”

You huff in response, the answer is obvious, but he just wants the victory of knowing he’s changed your mind. Who are you to refuse him of that? “Immensely,” you answer.

[saetoru]

RATE MY PROFESSOR! — GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU.

kinktober day one — threesomes ; find masterlist here

synopsis. you’re professor gojo’s TA—the catch? you both are romantically involved. what do you do when professor geto happens to accidentally walk in on you giving a blowjob? let him fuck you so he keeps his mouth shut and doesn’t tell a soul, of course

length. 5.1k words (deep, big, heavy sigh)

contents. minors do not interact, fem! reader, college au, teacher-student relationships, prof! satoru + suguru, TA! reader, power imbalance, age gaps (reader is early twenties and satoru + suguru are early thirties), semi public sex (at campus in satoru’s office), suguru walking in on you and satoru, threesomes, fingering + blowjobs + hair pulling + throat fucking + cum swallowing (satoru), male masturbation + edging (suguru), unprotected sex + (one) clit slap + creampie (suguru), pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel, princess, pretty girl, good girl), not proof read—i am a raw dog kinda gal

notes. i would highly discourage having intimate relations with a professor—but….if your professor looks like gojo or geto, i’m blind babe. i ain’t see nothing. i won’t tell a soul

“you guys wanna get lunch?” nobara hums, “we’re all here.”

megumi, as always, looks like he’s about to say no—he probably wants to go home as quickly as possible. but that’s not an option because before he can, yuji has already piped up with an enthusiastic, “yeah! i’m down.”

you fiddle your fingers nervously—how are you supposed to get out of this one? you’d just used the excuse of grading assignments for satoru yesterday, and surely you couldn’t possibly have a fresh pile of them to grade again within twenty-four hours, right? it’d be a suspicious excuse, especially one for nobara, who seems to sniff out a lie a little too easily. 

it’s not that you don’t want to hang out with your friends, you love them. really. but you promised you’d be in satoru’s office in fifteen minutes—and you’re not about to keep him waiting, so lunch will have to wait for another time.

you’re still thinking of a usable excuse when she turns to you herself, unimpressed as she dryly says, “i assume you have some midterm review to help him polish or something,” she grumbles, “gojo is so lazy,” she scoffs.

oh—well, that wasn’t very hard. she’s just made it ten times easier for you. nobara has handed you the perfect excuse right in the palm of your hand, and before you can even play it off casually, yuji cuts in and distracts her. bless yuji, you think to yourself.

“hey, professor gojo is a great guy! we all passed with an A! isn’t that great?”

“everyone gets an A in his class, dumbass,” megumi grunts, rolling his eyes, “not getting an A in his class practically means you’re deliberately trying to do poorly.”

on campus, professor gojo is a fan favorite—his rate my professor score is a perfect five stars, and most of the students around campus rave about him. why? because he gives out the letter grade A+ like it’s candy. anyone would love a professor like that. 

he doesn’t ever take attendance or knock your grade down when you skip class, his assignments are always easy to google answers to, and the quizzes have unlimited time and attempts. his tests are straightforward enough that even if you never pay attention, doing the review he uploads is sure to help you cram enough to pass. and what’s better? he always adds a generous curve. not only that, but professor gojo is a friendly guy—he loves talking to his students, loves to ramble away if you stop him in the halls or visit during office hours, loves to listen to your stories and nod along in interest, loves to crack jokes and have a good laugh.

everyone loves professor gojo. and when they leave his class with an A+, they love him even more. 

you had an A+ in physics yourself when you took his class—and you hate physics. you hated it in high school, and you hate it now. but for gojo satoru? you’re almost a physics enthusiast. professor gojo—or rather, satoru, as you call him now, takes a liking to you. a very…strong liking, if you will. 

it all starts on a fateful monday afternoon two semesters ago—it’s one thirty pm, the busiest hour on campus. sometimes, it feels like everyone takes classes at one pm—and as such, getting a table in the university coffee shop is almost impossible. you’re just about to give up and leave with your coffee and sandwich after scanning the place when a wave of a hand catches your attention. 

it’s professor gojo. 

need a seat? he asks you, gesturing at the chair in front of him at his table—it’s a smooth, amused little drawl, the way he talks. it’s almost always a borderline teasing tone, and his voice is low enough that it sounds oddly enticing. you’ve heard enough girls lust over his voice in class to know you’re not the only one who sometimes appreciates the sound. 

you try to insist that you wouldn’t want to intrude, but professor gojo is a nice guy; always looks out for his students and helps them out. so, when he insists that he doesn’t mind you taking the spare seat as he grades a few assignments, well…you decide to sheepishly thank him and sit across from him, finally having somewhere to sit and eat before you’re off to your next class. 

and then it begins.

every now and then, you sit across from your physics professor in the crowded coffee shop on campus as you enjoy a cold brew and a sandwich before your next class. somehow, he always manages to snatch a table, and somehow, you always manage to find him. you like to ramble to him sometimes—how professor nanami is a bit too strict for your liking (he giggles at that), how professor ieri always seems too tired and miserable to be here (he nods and agrees), and how professor geto is nice, but he takes literature pretty seriously (he gives you an amused look at that as he hums.)

somewhere along the line, he asks you to be his TA for the following semester—and somewhere further along that line…well, perhaps the one-on-one talks as you sit together at a table for two felt a little too close to something of a romantic setting because you and professor gojo kiss in his office while he calls you in to explain your TA responsibilities. 

that was never supposed to happen. 

you don’t even remember who leaned in first, or whose arms were the first to wrap around the other, or who tugged who closer, but you both kiss. and then some. and then it happens again, and again, and again—and, well…you’re professor gojo’s, or better yet, satoru’s best kept secret.

you go to his office to grade assignments for him—in between if he steals a few kisses, who’s to know? sometimes, he’s a bit riskier, likes to spread his legs and free his cock and have your hand stroke him as he eyes the door. it’s always a nice view to watch him unbutton a few buttons of his shirt and bite back moans. other days, he likes to slip his hand past your waistband and toy with your clit—the amused glint in his eyes, as he tells you not to get distracted and keep grading when you gasp always, earns him a sharp glare.

it’s like that for the semester, just you and him in his little office where you can break the rules in the safety of secrecy. 

that is, until now. 

admittedly, this isn’t the best time to be doing this—professor geto likes to have lunch with satoru around this time, and you know you’re cutting it close…but he just looks so pretty like this, head fallen back against his chair as his lips part with a soft gasp.

you’re on your knees, looking up as you suck on the tip of his stiff cock before taking him down your throat, bobbing your head up and down. it’s a rewarding position to be in—to have the hot, loved, campus favorite professor that everyone thirsts over falling apart in your mouth, hands gripping the arms of his chair as he pants harshly above you.

he looks pretty—always does, always looks good enough that you can feel the ache between your legs get worse. the messy strands of his hair stick to his damp forehead, and his lips are always so pink and plump when he bites them like that, and who can forget the way his eyes turn just a shade darker of that bright blue?

you hum around him, making him groan as he mumbles, “f-fuck, you’re so good, sweetheart—always know how to make me feel good.”

you press a kiss to his tip, smearing the bead of pre cum leaking from his slit along your lips before licking them clean—he closes his eyes and groans at that. you can’t help but giggle, can’t help but press more kisses along his hardened length until you’re at the base of his cock. 

“pretty little lips,” he hums, reaching to rub his thumb over your bottom lip as you open your mouth, letting him slip into your mouth—he hums approvingly as your tongue swirls around the digit, sucking slowly. “‘s like you were made for taking me, huh?”

“‘course i was,” you grin cheekily—and then you’re back to sucking on his cock, tongue rubbing over that thick vein you love to trace and reaching a hand to play with his balls. he moans—it’s low but still whiny enough that you can’t help but feel so proud at how needy he is, how desperately he always wants you. no matter the risk.

except the risk is probably not the wisest one to test today because just as satoru lets out a particularly loud whine when you swallow around him, the door clicks open and…

oh. 

oh no. 

this…this isn’t good—this is terrible, in fact. this is the worst possible outcome to the worst possible thing you’ve done, and now you’re screwed. entirely destroyed, in fact—the both of you. here goes your admission and your progress on your degree, and here goes satoru’s entire career and everything he’s worked for, and all because you couldn’t help but give him a blowjob in the middle of his office with the door unlocked where his best friend can walk right in and get a full view.

and worse? this best friend of his happens to be another professor on campus who you happen to have had just last semester. you’re sure he knows you; you’re his former student, after all, and he must certainly know his best friend’s TA. 

professor geto blinks—his eyes go back and forth between you and satoru and the still-hard cock between his legs that’s glistening with your spit as you sit on your knees. yeah—there’s no explaining this one.

“well,” he says blankly, “i guess that’s on me for not knocking, huh?”

“suguru,” satoru grumbles, “some of us are busy y’know? can’t you come back later?”

you turn to satoru in shock—how can he be so normal about this? how can he just casually act like this is some random hook-up his friend walked in on instead of a (very illegal and very unprofessional) teacher-student relationship that could get the two of you in more trouble than you can comprehend? 

but professor geto doesn’t seem even the slightest bit concerned. there’s no look of disgust or panic or even anger at you and satoru for your unprofessional habits. there’s no alarm at the distasteful activities you’re doing in the middle of a university office where anyone could potentially walk in on. and then there’s satoru—he doesn’t even bother making himself decent or pulling you from your knees.

no, instead, he looks at professor geto in slight irritation as the latter stands there. 

“so this is what you’re always busy doing in your office, huh?” professor geto hums, chuckling in amusement, “i have to say, you at least have good taste, satoru. she’s excellent in and outside the classroom, it seems.”

“yeah, she’s a keeper,” satoru hums, cupping your cheek as he grins down at you, “now if you don’t mind, suguru, we’re in the middle of something.”

“and what do you plan on doing if this gets around?” professor geto raises a brow, unimpressed.

you look at him in panic at that—surely…surely he can’t mean that he would be the one to spread this around, right? surely he wouldn’t throw his best friend under the bus, correct? if not for you, then for satoru’s sake, he’d never let this information find another soul. otherwise…otherwise you’ll both lose everything. all the hard work and progress you’ve made, all of satoru’s experience and years building his career, and all the future opportunities you had coming up—all of it will be for nothing if professor geto says one word. 

people wouldn’t have a hard time believing it either, you think. sometimes your own friends like to poke fun at you themselves. 

you’re always with him, are you sure you’re not in love with the guy at this point? nobara always likes to snort at you.

why does professor gojo even keep you around? you’re too lazy—you must give good head, megumi tends to tease as he raises a brow with amused eyes.

with how often you’re in professor gojo’s room, you might as well have a crush on him, yuji sometimes giggles.

surely, with how often you’re seen in the coffee shop with him as he grades papers and how often he likes to tease you when you show up to his classroom sometimes to drop off papers, students would certainly take the rumors and spread them like wildfire if professor geto says even the littlest thing. 

you look at him with wobbly lips as you whisper, “please don’t tell anyone,” you sniffle, “i…maybe there’s something we can do…to keep you from…”

the two of them look at you in shock—they stare at you for a moment, stare at the crystalline tears welling up in your eyes, at the soft little tremor in your lips, at the sweet little sniffles you try to hide. then, as if in sync, their eyes meet each other’s before finding you once more.

“oh, that’s precious,” professor geto chuckles, “she really is a keeper, satoru—she even looks pretty when she cries. i’m almost jealous.”

“don’t look for too long, suguru,” satoru grumbles—and then, “listen, sweetheart, you don’t have to worry. suguru’s not gonna—”

“well, if there is something you’d wanna do for me,” professor geto cuts satoru off, his voice a low drawl as he walks closer, hand cupping your jaw as he tilts your face up, “i suppose i can keep my mouth shut.”

“anything,” you nod quickly.

you’re so eager to please, he thinks—so perfect and sweet and pliant, that suguru thinks he might actually really be jealous that somehow, it was satoru who caught your attention. how did this all start? when did it start? how long has it been going on? do you have real feelings for each other? or is it just a pleasurable business kind of deal? do you meet up outside of campus? does he take you to the next town over to freely walk around with you on dates? do you kiss sweetly sometimes instead of with hunger? have you ever spent a night in his bed? do you sleep better beside each other, wrapped in the other’s arms?

there are so many, many questions suguru wants to ask. the potential answers to all of them make him a bit more unhappy than he cares to admit. something in him wonders how things might’ve had to play out in order to land you in his office instead—but…but if you’re offering anything, why not take advantage of the offer?

“anything?” he asks, looking at you amused, “you know, princess, anything is a dangerous offer. what if i asked to join? what if i asked to fuck you here in this office so your secret is safe?”

you blink up at him for a moment at his words—they’re a bit shocking. professor geto…doesn’t think this is wrong? clearly, he doesn’t if he’s willing to take part. but that doesn’t sound half bad. not even in the slightest. 

they’re a popular pair: professor gojo and geto are all people on campus ever talk about. those two professors who happen to be best friends. they’re not much older than you either—can’t be past their early thirties, even if they don’t look a day over twenty. 

did you know they used to go to college together? i heard they’ve known each other since high school. apparently, they applied to work here together and only took the offer up once the other agreed. it’s all people ever gossip about when they mention them both. it’s always about how close they are, how deep their bond is, how there is never one without the other. and then, of course, there are those…the less than appropriate comments you occasionally hear the other girls make. i bet professor gojo gives the best head—he’s always sucking on some lollipop. i’d let professor geto do nasty things to me while i read his literature books out loud to him—he’s too fine. i can take both of them—and i don’t mean their classes. 

it’s…not exactly a bad offer that he gives you, you think to yourself. it’s an enticing one, in fact. you get to have them both—professor geto isn’t any less attractive than satoru and…and well, you’d really like for him to keep this a secret, so it’s a bit of a win-win. plus, you’re sure he wouldn’t risk spilling such delicate information when it would put his career at risk, too—it seems like the perfect leverage.

you look at your old literature professor with a nod as you murmur, “then i’d say you should make sure to lock the door this time—we don’t want to make the same mistake twice, do we?”

his eyes sparkle in amusement at that, a low chuckle falling from his pretty lips as he shakes his head at you—you’re even better than he expected. satoru is so, so lucky he’s got to have you to himself all this time. it’s criminally unfair. 

“hey,” satoru pouts from behind, still sitting in his chair and still painfully hard as his throbbing cock sits between his legs unattended. “you both are forgetting about me,” he whines.

professor geto—or rather, suguru, you suppose, only looks at his best friend in amusement. “now, satoru—what have i always told you about sharing? here—” he walks over and pulls satoru to stand before taking the seat himself and patting his thigh as he looks at you with a sly grin, “why don’t i get to feel your pussy, and satoru can have your mouth like before? then we both get what we want.”

“bossy as ever, suguru,” satoru chuckles, but there’s something in his eyes—something darker and more excited than you’ve ever seen them.

“get her ready for me,” suguru hums, fingers making quick work to unbuckle his belt and free his hardened cock. you can’t help but stare, can’t help but watch as he wraps his fist around his hardened length and runs his thumb through his slit with a low moan. 

he’s not as long, but he’s thicker than satoru—you can easily tell he won’t be any easier to take. you watch attentively as he traces the thick vein along the side of his cock with this thumb as he strokes upward, rolling around his tip before stroking down and squeezing at the base. you watch his lips tug between his teeth, a soft moan ripping from his throat as he touches himself in the way he likes best.

you’ll remember what he likes, you think—you can sense this might not be your first and last opportunity to see suguru like this. and next time? well, next time, it’ll be your hand touching his cock and pulling those pretty little sighs and groans from him instead of his own.

“eyes on me, sweetheart,” satoru hums, pulling you to stand before gently guiding your back to fall against his desk, fingers looping into your waistband and pulling your pants down your legs. you can hear the sharp inhale suguru takes as soon as the wetness of your folds is on display, as soon as your puffy clit and dripping pussy are there for him to see so clearly. “watch carefully, suguru,” satoru grins, “she’s pretty when she cums.”

“i can imagine,” suguru muses, “alright then. show me.”

instantly, satoru’s fingers are intruding into your cunt—it’s familiar, the sensation of his digits bullying past your folds and curling against your sweet spot. he’s already knuckles deep, already pressing the tips of his fingers into the back of your walls as far as they’ll go, spreading you open and scissoring you apart. it feels good—it always does, and when his palm rolls across your clit? you can’t help but let out a whiny moan that earns a groan from suguru as he fists his cock tighter. 

“god, she even sounds so pretty,” he pants, watching as satoru’s fingers slip in and out of your pretty cunt, at the way it all but sucks them in itself as it flutters around him. everything about you is perfect—but your face is by far suguru’s favorite. the way it twists with pleasure as satoru slams his fingers against your spot mercilessly with every thrust of his wrist has him fighting off his orgasm—his fist slowing down to a teasing edge as he grunts at the way he lets his pleasure die down for the sake of really feeling you. 

“that feel good, angel?” satoru asks, grinning down at you. 

you nod quickly, head thrown back against the wooden desk as you stutter, “y-yes…s-so good, toru.”

“toru?” suguru asks, “do i get a nickname too? make sure you come up with one for me, yeah?”

it’s almost like you don’t hear him, too busy on the way satoru drags along your walls with every time his fingers sink into you. “toru, toru—s-slow down, ‘m g-gonna…”

“slow down?” satoru gasps—his pace only quickens at that as he gives you a mocking pout, “you want me to slow down, sweetheart? you never ask me to slow down, it’s always faster, toru. faster, please! from you. you don’t wanna give suguru the wrong idea, do you? he’ll think i haven’t taught you how to take it like a good girl.”

suguru snorts at that, slowly dragging his hand up and down his sensitive cock—it’s red at the tip, flushed, and leaky enough that it’s easy to tell he’s aching for release.

“hurry up, satoru,” he grits, biting his lip as he fights back another orgasm and stills his hand, keeping it tightened around the base of his length, “we haven’t got all day.”

“can’t rush making my pretty girl cum, suguru,” satoru gasps, “she deserves the best. look at this pussy—” he gives pulls his fingers out to give your clit attention, rubbing your slick over the sensitive bud as you gasp, writhing over his desk, “—see how perfect it is? you gotta treat it like that too.”

as if from his words alone, as if you get off on the way satoru praises your cunt to his best friend who watches you get stuffed to the brim with his fingers, you whimper before cumming—your pussy fluttering around nothing, walls spasming and dripping with slick as he toys with your clit. 

“toru—toru, ‘m cumming…cumming—oh,” you babble, thighs quivering as his thumb doesn’t let up from your abused clit, watching as your hand reaches for his wrist weakly to halt his movements. “‘s too much,” you sniffle.

“too much?” suguru gasps, “how will you take me, then, princess? don’t tell me you’re tapping out already?”

“nah,” satoru grins, chuckling, “she’s got plenty left in her. she can take it.” with that, he hooks an arm under your waist and helps you sit up, leaning down to kiss you softly as you let out a muffled whine against his lips. “you’re ready for suguru, aren’t you, baby? prepped you nice and good to take him, didn’t i?”

you nod, mumbling a soft, “uh huh,” in agreement.

“that’s my good girl,” he coos, grinning as he presses a wet kiss to your forehead. 

suguru, patient as ever with a stiff, aching cock standing between his muscled thighs, holds an arm out for you as he murmurs, “c’mere then, princess. can’t back out of our deal yet, can you?” you walk over to him on wobbly legs, letting him pull you to sit on his lap, back flush against his chest as his hands guide your hips. he taps the head of his cock against your clit as he lines your entrance up with his length before pulling you to sit, slowly inching you down on him bit by bit as he gasps at the way you squeeze around him instantly. “h-holy—fuck, such a tight fuckin’ pussy. ‘s like i can barely even move,” he grunts, chin resting on your shoulder as he pants.

satoru walks over, staring down at you as you’re seated on suguru’s lap before cupping your cheek and rubbing over the soft skin with his thumb. “you can take both of us, right sweetheart? you’re just too good not to, aren’t ya?”

you nod eagerly, letting the tip of his cock tap against your lip, tongue moving to lick across his slit and make him groan. he’s painfully hard—cock swollen and neglected for so long, you almost forgot that he’s been waiting for your mouth to take him again after being interrupted. your jaw slacks as you let him thrust his hips and fuck his length into you, tip hitting the back of your throat as you choke around him. 

“fuck,” satoru hisses lowly, biting his lip as his hands grab your hair and keep you in place while he ruts into your mouth, “fuck, baby. never get tired of how good this mouth feels—takes me so fuckin’ well. jus’ love feelin’ me down your throat, huh?”

you can’t do anything but let out a muffled cry, feeling the fat tip of suguru’s cock nudge against your sweet spot—it’s just as effortless: the way he finds your most sensitive part. just as effortless as satoru. maybe that’s why they get along so well, maybe they’re connected in that way. 

“oh, princess,” suguru moans, panting against your ear as he lets out a breathy moan, “fuck, that’s good—so, good. can hardly move with the way you’re squeezing me. greedy little pussy, isn’t it?”

you whine as you feel his arm wrap around you, finger rolling over your puffy clit as his hips snap upwards and fuck into you, cock dragging along your walls and stretching you enough that you can hardly think straight. he’s big—it feels like he’s almost splitting you open with his girth as his hips roll up and sink him deeper into your cunt.

“she’s…she’s perfect,” suguru pants, “keepin’ this all to yourself? how selfish of you, satoru.”

“she’s mine,” satoru whines, cock pushing past your lips as he speaks, the way your tongue glides along his vein making his cheeks flush as his eyes flutter shut and his mouth falls open with a breathless moan. “she’s too good to share with you. you d-don’t deserve her.”

“yeah? and you do?” suguru chuckles—it sounds more like a labored pant, his breath harsh as he groans into your neck when you flutter particularly tightly around him, forehead falling to dig into your shoulder, “she’s suckin’ me in. think she wants me. don’t you, pretty girl? you want me to cum inside you, right? make you mine too?”

“y-yes,” you mewl, popping off satoru’s length as you whimper when suguru chuckles and gives your clit a light slap, back arching against him as he pushes his cock past your folds again, “yes, wan’ it. wan’ it so, so bad—need it.”

“see,” he raises a brow towards satoru, “knew it.”

you can see the way satoru’s cock twitches at that—at the way you fall apart on suguru’s lap as the latter digs his head into your shoulder as he breathes harshly, chasing his release desperately as he ruts into your slick pussy. you can see the way satoru’s tip is flushed a harsh red, leaking with pre cum as he aches to spill cum down your throat, so you let him push past your lips once more—but not before giving his tip a delicate kiss. 

“she’s my girl,” satoru grunts, “mine, mine, mine—knows how to make me cum. kn-knows how to take me so good, right baby?”

and as if to answer him, you suck around his tip, swallowing around his length and making him groan as his hips stutter and cum paints your throat white as it fills your mouth. you try to swallow every drop, try to take what he gives you as he fucks into you desperately and chases the pleasure of his high. thick, hot ropes of cum spill from the corners of your lips as satoru fucks his load into you, panting as his hips sloppily roll and work himself through his orgasm.

“that’s right, sweetheart,” he groans lowly, “take it, yeah? god—fuck, feels so good, baby. ‘m c-cumming.”

you make a sound between a choked whine and sharp gasp as suguru’s thumb rubs harshly against your swollen clit, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he groans, hips just as sloppy as satoru’s in his pace that it tells you he’s close too—and then he twitches into your pussy, cock burying into you once, twice, three more times before he groans too.

“gonna cum, princess? ‘cause ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum—fill you up and make you mine. you want that right? want me to—f-fuck, fuck ‘m close, so close,” he cuts himself off with a gasp, letting out a needy whine into your skin before spilling into you. you can feel hot, thick ropes of cum paint your walls as his tip nudges back into you and pushes his load as deep as he can.

and you fall apart too, coming undone a second time as your walls hug around him tightly, head falling back as you mewl a high pitched, “s-sugu—c-can’t…’s too much—”

“you can take it, pretty,” he hums, “know you can. you’re too precious not to, right?”

it’s messy—it’s downright filthy, in fact, the way his cum and your slick mix and drip along your inner thighs, making a mess on satoru’s chair. you pant as your pussy pulses around him before coming down from your high, falling slack in his arms against his chest as he chuckles and presses a kiss to your jaw. 

“fuck,” he breathes, “you’re something else. who’d have thought my favorite little student from a previous semester could do all that?”

“isn’t she a dime?” satoru chuckles proudly, reaching for the corner of your mouth with his thumb, collecting a stray drop of cum and pushing it back past your lips and onto your tongue, humming approvingly as you swallow. “precious, isn’t she?”

“of course,” suguru nods, with a grin, leaning to peck your shoulder, “so, tell me. which professor would you take again?”

satoru purses his lips as he glares. “this isn’t rate my professor, suguru. and don’t get used to thi—”

“well,” you hum, interrupting as you bat your lashes sweetly at both of them, “why i can’t just take both of you again?”

guess who’s posting their october first kinktober fic literally 40 mins before it’s october second ?? if it’s not procrastinated, it’s not reached its full potential

[itoshiexx]

WHEN YOU'RE MAD AND USE THEIR FULL NAME

how the blue lock boyfriends react when you're mad and use their full name

pairings: isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro and itoshi sae x gn!reader (separate) | warnings: little arguments, angst if u squint, reader is kinda hot headed? lol, mostly fluff and the boys wanting to be in your good graces.

notes: did i kick depression in the ass to finish this? not really. but it worked, and here i am! this is my nagi seishiro debut omgggg hopefully i did him justice and he's not too ooc. also new design for the scenarios to match my theme. enjoy, lovelies! let me know if you'd like especific scenarios and send me an ask :)

masterlist

ISAGI YOICHI

yoichi hoped he would die. 

really. 

it’s the least he deserved for making you angry — even more so because he didn’t know what made you angry in the first place. he spent the last fifteen minutes excavating his mind to try and remember what could have ticked you off so much that you don’t even wanna look at him.

he hates it. isagi needs your eyes on him, needs to hear your voice and touch your skin. and with the way you’re so silent and distant, he might be just like a man in the desert without water.

“baby,” he looked at you on the other end of the couch, intently watching the tv show in front of you.  just a glimpse would make him breathe again. just a nod would ease his nerves. hell, he would even take a glare, as long as you were looking at him.

but he got nothing. zero. nada.

“baby, please,” he tried again. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make you mad.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, but still didn’t spare him a glance. he sighed.

“i’ll never do it agai—”

“do you even know why you’re apologizing, isagi yoichi?!” you asked, exasperated. your boyfriend froze on the spot when hearing his full name, because of course he didn’t. 

as far as he knew, you were having a great day together. he bought you breakfast from your favorite bakery, you made a delicious lunch and then you two went out shopping. he even gifted you with a beautiful necklace after an enthusiastic shop employee offered to show him some pieces—

oh.

“you got jealous of the saleswoman?”

“blah blah you got jealous of the saleswoman? heck yeah I did!” you impersonated him with a high pitched, sarcastic voice that showed just how mad you were. “she was all over you, yoichi, and you didn’t do anything!” 

he swallowed thickly, daring to approach you on the couch. he hugged your frame, despite the crossed arms in front of your chest making it a little hard.

“i’m sorry, darling. i didn’t even notice she was being inappropriate because you’re the only one i pay attention to. and i always figured people would never dare be so bold if you’re by my side and we’re clearly together.”

his sweet words coated you, making you glance away, knowing that looking at his puppy eyes would end you for good. 

“you should have done something anyway.”

“i know. i totally should, and i’m sorry i didn’t. i never meant to make you feel bad or let people disrespect you.” he rested his chin on your shoulder, breath shuddering right on your ear.

the sincerity in his voice was enough to chip away your anger, and you visibly relaxed in his embrace. yoichi held a breath of relief, knowing he still had to be careful.

“i’m sorry, baby. it won’t happen again. forgive me, please?” he placed a sweet kiss on your cheek, and god, how could you keep being mad like that?

damn isagi yoichi and his genuine blue eyes.

you uncrossed your arms, embracing his instead, and finally looked at him with love again.

“fine. but just because you’re so charming, ‘ichi.”

he chuckled. “you’re the charming one. i’m totally under your spell, darling.”

and when your lips met, yoichi hoped to keep living just to have more of you.

NAGI SEISHIRO

people would often ask him if his detached, nonchalant persona ever got in his way through his life. seishiro would always say no, because everything and everyone he did care about understood his lazy way and inability to do… pretty much everything.

that didn’t mean he never made the effort, though. as much as nagi liked to live like a sloth and just go on with his life playing video games, there were still things in his life that were worth it. like football. his friends. and you, of course. 

ever since you met, seishiro discovered that being with you wasn’t a bother. and after he fell in love and you became a couple, he found himself eager to indulge you, even if it meant going out of his way. his friends congratulated him and expressed genuine happiness to see how much he improved, and that, along with your beautiful smile, filled his heart with joy. 

however, no matter how much he tried, he was still…

“nagi seishiro.” 

a shiver ran down his spine with the sound of your voice, and not the good kind. he had never heard you sound so stern, so angry, so… disappointed, even. enough to leave a sour taste in his mouth. so much so he immediately lifted his eyes from his console, only to find your harsh gaze.

“ehh? wha’ did i do, angel? don’t say my name like that,” he pouted, crawling towards your body splayed on the bed. 

even when you tried to fight his embrace, nagi took advantage of his large frame to engulf you and lay his head on your chest, so you wouldn’t walk away in case you got any angrier.

“babeeeee,” he whined, hugging you tighter.

“let go of me,” you said, and he just shook his head. “you deserve it. you weren’t even listening to what i was saying, were you?”

what a hassle. he really wasn’t listening, but… well, he got way too focused on beating the last boss. could you really blame him? 

he heard you scoff. “oh, my bad, i should have known it was the last boss. it’s more important than me anyway, right, nagi?”

fuck. fuck. fuck. did he say that out loud? he sounded like a dick. you had every right to be mad and call him by his full or last name. 

nagi lifted his head from your chest to look at you, feeling his throat tighten with the sight of your teary eyes. guilt gnawed at his chest when seeing how upset and frustrated you were. 

“eh, ’m sorry, pretty thing. i got too caught up ‘n didn’t notice you were talking t’me.”

“am i that invisible to you?” a tear almost rolled down your cheek. seishiro shook his head, a little more exasperated than usual. 

“huh? ’f course not, angel. y’re never invisible. all i see is you. y’re the most important to me,” he held eye contact, and even though you wanted to tear your gaze away, seishiro’s eyes were more magnetizing than ever, even if your view was a little blurry.

you knew your boyfriend wasn’t the type to lie, since he always claimed it was a hassle. you knew you were important to him, but his lack of consideration still hurt. 

“i’ll apologize as many times as you wish. ‘m sorry for not listening and making you feel bad. i never wan’ you to feel bad, pretty thing.” 

nagi used his strength to roll around and switch your positions, in a way you were on top of him instead. he started caressing your hair in a soothing motion, making your eyelashes flutter. “y’can talk as much as you want. i promise i’ll listen t’you.”

your eyes welled with tears for a different reason, and you hugged the striker as hard as you could. even if he faltered, seishiro never failed to make up to you and make you feel loved.

“promise, sei?”

“promise.”

ITOSHI SAE

although sae wasn’t exactly smart in the emotions field, he always knew when you weren’t happy with something. you scowled, huffed and rolled your eyes, keeping an eerie silence that was only broken when absolutely necessary. 

at that moment, he was sure you weren’t happy with him.

you both kept to yourselves while still at the event, masquerading any problems for the cameras. sae had a hand at the small of your back and he could feel how stiff you were. the midfielder wouldn't admit that seeing you so uncomfortable around him made his heart pang.

at the limo, the path to your shared penthouse was quiet, and you brushed him off when he tried to hold your hand. sae could only stare at his window with furrowed brows, itching to dissipate this awkward atmosphere. he never liked when you were mad, especially at him.

he expected some sort of explosion when you got to your apartment, but you kept your glaze off him, trying to walk to the bedroom for your night routine without even sparing him a word. 

nuh-uh. that wouldn’t do. 

he held your wrist before you could go, and lightly pulled you so that you were facing him. your eyes widened with the sudden movement, but narrowed as soon as landed on his face. 

“why are you mad?”

you scoffed. the audacity of this man. 

“you know exactly why i’m mad, itoshi sae.”

shit, the government name? you were really fucking angry.

“i wouldn’t be asking if i knew,” he answered, immediately regretting it when you glared at him, as if saying that wasn’t the right answer. “i-i mean… i didn’t realize what was wrong, amor.”

you walked closer to your boyfriend, making him release your wrist. despite his typical stoic face, sae was clinging to your every word.

“itoshi sae, you can not talk to your little brother like that!” you nearly growled on his face, surprising him. “you were very rude and condescending, and that’s no way to speak to rin!”

he frowned. you were mad because of rin? the little green monster inside of him threatened to grow, but he forced him to stay put. sae didn’t want to anger you further, so he simply let his hands slither to your hips, pulling you closer to him.

“i don’t think i was rud—” you lifted one eyebrow, and he rolled his eyes. “fine. i might have been kinda harsh.”

“and?” you crossed your arms.

he sighed. “i will apologize.”

“i’m serious about this, itoshi sae. i will ask rin—”

“i’ll tell him i’m sorry, okay? no need to keep talking about rin.” he interrupted, palms traveling to your ass while he nosed your neck. he planted a small kiss under your ear, huffing a minty breath that made you shudder. sae smirked. “and no need to keep calling me by full name, either. what happened to ‘cariño’?”

you held onto his biceps for some grounding, but still didn’t budge. 

“you weren’t very sweet today, so it’s not fitting.” 

he pouted while hiding in your neck, taking full advantage that you couldn’t see him, but was quick to withdraw to face you once again, touching your noses. one of his hands cradled your jaw, and you sighed with the pathetic effect your boyfriend had on you. 

“perdóname, amor?” he whispered against your lips, eyes sincere like you knew he could be. your poor little heart could never resist him when he was like this, rarely vulnerable and eager for you.

you gave a long exhale, arms moving to tangle around his neck. and folded.

“as long as you make it right, mi cariño.”

© 2024 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

[cherrybr4t]

what she wants, she gets - seungcheol (+18, mdni)

WARNINGS: kind of a toxic rs, smut, tit playing, tit slapping, unprotected sex, choking, daddy!cheol, oral (f rec), reader may not be the most sensible, dom!cheol, sub!reader (f), they r so insane for each other! ceo!cheol

<3 not comfy don’t read! but…HAPPY 400! THANK YOU SO MUCH!! hope u guys enjoy this! muah 💋

extract i

“swear to god baby, open the god damn door, please!” seungcheol feels his hands burn, from the incessant knocking and pounding of your door.

you hear every grunt and curse clearly—standing right behind the door, clad in your pink robe, glass of wine balancing dangerously between your fingertips.

“i know you’re standing right behind the door, let me in,” seungcheol runs his hand across his locks, frustration lacing every word. “you’re gonna regret this baby.”

“oh, that’s rich coming from you cheol, i’m the one that’s pissed at you right now—surely i won’t be regretting anything.” you finally decide to bite back.

“you being pissed at me doesn’t warrant you to fucking block your own fucking boyfriend, and what the fuck were you doing on mingyu’s story?” another bang across your poor door.

thank god seungcheol had arranged for only top quality products to be furnished throughout this apartment he’d gifted you a year ago.

“yeah well—you can go and cry about it to your other bitches, i’m sure someone would love to listen to you and offer you some comfort” you faked cooed—you were not going to let this one slide.

“baby—what the fuck are you talking about? you know i don’t even bat an eye at anyone else…everyone fuckin’ knows how i’m fucking obsessed with you, i— you know it too baby!” you hear how his voice starts to strain, and you know he’s right.

ever since you both were linked, it was like an otherworldly connection that only you and him could comprehend.

soulmates—if you must. equally bat shit crazy; crazy for each other at least. well, as what they always say, negative cancels out negative right? together, you and cheol swear nothing else could feel more right.

you came to him on a hazy friday night, and he finally had a face to the name he’s been hearing thrown around the office floors. he’d been captivated by you the minute he laid his eyes on you—in your velvet black dress, donned in silver jewelry that brought out the sparkle in your eyes.

—and, what seungcheol wants, seungcheol gets. by the end of the night, he finds himself removing your jewelry, having you writhe under him, screaming and moaning the whole night, and he’s not sure if you’ve fallen for his trap, or he yours.

it must’ve been love at first sight, he always tells you.

he’s everything you ever wanted, the possessive, ever so passionate man that never takes no for an answer. he made you feel alive, made you feel like you were worth trashing the world for.

some call it insanity, but you weren’t any better. which leads to why you were in your current predicament—you were livid.

it’s not like cheol wasn’t allowed to be around the female species, just not the pretty ones. and especially not if they wear extra short skirts and extra red lips around your boyfriend.

yeah yeah…it’s not like he could avoid female employees, especially being a young and an extremely attractive director, next in line for the CEO position.

the new influx of female employees with the new batch of hires were something else, flocking towards your boyfriend blatantly every chance they get.

he may have just been doing his job to facilitate but—did he have to cross the line with his overtly friendly nature? not necessary, you think.

and you loved to play the game. blocking him all over your social media—only for him to lose his mind when he sees you dancing on mingyu’s instagram story at the club downtown.

you know how much he hates when you hang out with your guy friends, especially ones with a certain playful nature—mingyu.

to say he went berserk would be an understatement. you grin behind the door, the taste of satisfaction at the tip of your tongue, knowing you got him back.

“baby, fuck, i’ll get rid of all of ‘em—whoever it is—fuck, they’re gone by next week” and who are you if not someone that falters at such sweet words from your beau’s mouth.

that click of a door makes him sigh out a breath of relief before he immediately engulfs you in a tight embrace, stroking your hair and kissing the crown of your head.

“you’ll really fire them for me babe?” your eyes soften as they look up into his, and he swoons at how pretty your eyes are, admiring your current docile state—when you’re not being batshit crazy.

he carefully removes the wine glass from you, placing on top of your black coffee table which he chose, before grabbing your cheek and pulling you in for a sloppy passionate kiss.

“anything for my baby, you are the future wife of the company’s soon-to-be CEO after all.” he smirks, rubbing your bottom lip with his thumb.

“and what she wants, she gets,” he whispers before pulling your lips towards his before you could say anything else.

his tongue explores every crevice of your mouth, tugging your own tongue playfully and soothing out every bite he gives your lower lip.

“my baby—you look fuckin’ gorgeous. i can never let you stay angry at me, hmm?” he pecks your forehead.

“gonna remind you why you’re mine and i’m yours baby,” he peppers feather kisses down your jaw tenderly.

“yeah? think i need to put my little brat in place, remind her why daddy only loves her, and how daddy only has eyes for her,” he kisses down your clavicle and sucks on a hollow spot which makes your knees buckle.

“mmffh—cheol….” you know it, you’re excited for it. you love it when he reminds you how obsessed he is with you.

“wonder what’s waiting for me underneath this pretty pink robe,” he gently tugs at the string of your little bow tied at the front.

a second later and your ribbon unravels, allowing the flimsy fabric to fall to the sides, and cheol lets out the most animalistic groan when he sees you completely bare and supple for him.

“so fucking pretty yeah?” he pushes you up against the nearest flat surface he can find, hands moving in urgency, grabbing any flesh of yours he can fit in those big hands of his.

you whine out as you feel his calloused hands squeezing your tits so hard, while his mouth gets busy along your jaw again. but those lips can’t stay away from your tits—he starts sucking and slurping all over—marking your mounds as you pull tightly on his locks, sinful moans after moans falling from your lips.

he breaks apart from your tits and you pout.

“my pretty girl, hands up for me.” he grabs your wrists and places them above your head and you keep them there.

“so good for me,” he sinks down and kisses all around your glistening cunt, making you squirm unconsciously. he holds on to your hips, before diving in fully, inserting that warm pink muscle deep inside your cunt you knock your head back against the wall, letting out the breathiest moan.

“pretty girl is all mine. my cunt, my tits, my girl, the prettiest.” he breathes out before he swings a leg over his shoulder and continues devouring your leaking cunt. his tongue curls up and like a deranged animal it plays with your g-spot frantically. he moans around your cunt so deeply, before he moves up and sucks your warm and swollen clit, teeth grazing every few seconds.

“cheol—too fast too fast—i’m gonna cum soon daddy,” you feel yourself reach your breaking point sooner tonight.

“that’s all i want baby, cum all over my face for me. i’m all yours to cum on,” he switches between the insane speed of his tongue and hard suction of his lips and the ribbon inside you unravels before you know it.

you let out the loudest string of moans, shaking as you clench and let out all your juices all over his face and his tongue.

cheol closes his eyes and soaks in the heavenly moment he wants to last forever. he takes in everything—your scent, your taste and continues lapping on your cunt to suck you dry.

you whine before grabbing his locks, pushing away due to oversensitivity. he looks up at you with glistening lips, and your stomach churns at the sight, feeling a new pool of arousal forming again.

he stands up, eye to eye with you, stroking a strand of hair behind your ear. “you’re so fucking perfect baby, no one should dare to even stand next to you.”

he leans forward, rubbing his clothed bulge against your soaked cunt. “you feel that baby? only you can do that to me, i just need a thought of you and i go fucking insane,” he grabs your hand, guiding it to his huge bulge.

you rub teasingly above the fabric before smirking at him knowingly, “you like me that much?”

“baby, i love you so fucking much—even i can’t comprehend it. swear i’ll die without you,” he leans his forehead against yours, with an arm propped up on the wall beside your head.

you rub faster, enjoying the moment of cheol unraveling just by a touch from you.

“swear i’ll die if you don’t touch me now—and if i’m not inside you right now baby, need you,” he breaks out in desperation and you give in, unzipping and allowing him to step out of his pants.

wasting no time, he gets rid of his boxers and goes over to the couch to sit down, tapping his thigh twice, you immediately shuffle over to sit on him, warm cunt hovering over his growing cock.

“don’t tease baby, told you i need to be inside you now,” he grabs your waist before aligning your cunt to slowly sink down his red cock that’s bursting with veins, feeling like he’s going to explode if he doesn’t feel you wrapped around him.

“f-fuuuck,” you moan out, stomach twisting at how good cheol feels when he’s fully inside you, and you start to ride him, chasing that impending high that you know is coming.

“baby—you feel too fucking good, s’unreal,” cheol croaks out as he grips onto your hips tighter, guiding your pace, not wanting to come in you too quickly.

his wandering hands move on to playing with your swollen tits, your nipples so puffy from earlier it drives him crazy, “so pretty, so fucking sensitive for me always, fuck,” he tugs on them, eliciting a louder whine from you.

his keeps a hand on your tits, occasionally giving it light slaps across and he salivates at the way it jiggles. another hand reaches up, wrapping around your neck which looks too clean for him.

your face contorts in an unexplainable pleasure, and he knows he’s got you at you tipping point. “cheol—daddy, squeeze harder,” you prompt him, wanting him to push you over the edge faster.

“yeah? my little slut wants daddy to go harder? you dirty girl, my dirty girl though— my pretty dirty girl,” he groans, hands squeezing tighter at the pulse points, while he strikes one tight slap across your tits and you can’t stop moaning.

he can’t stop singing praises for his pretty baby, and all he wants is to express how much he adores you every second.

“so close daddy so close, wanna cum wanna cum,” cheol snaps his hips up faster, while maintaining the pressure around your neck.

“gonna make you cum so hard around daddy, then pump you full of daddy’s cum after—show you how much daddy loves you, yeah?” he revels in the way your voice breaks at the incessant amount of moans escaping your mouth.

“gonna cum—daddy can i cum now?” you bit down on your lips, feeling something in your lower abdomen growing and growing, threatening to spill over any minute.

“my pretty baby always so polite—yes baby, cum for daddy now,” and you let go, seeing white as you convulse and jerk around him, crying out his name repeatedly.

his grip around your neck holds you in place, “fuuuckk that’s it baby, let daddy see how hard he made you cum,” cheol will never get tired of watching you cum—especially when it’s around his cock.

“gonna let daddy pump you full now baby? i’m about to cum okay baby,” he starts to snap his hips up even rougher, before releasing a hot load inside of you with a groan and you moan at the feeling as it reaches deep inside you.

“fuuuuck, that’s it baby, take it all, take all of daddy’s cum yeah—you’re mine baby,” he moans out, panting as the last few drops paints your walls with his essence

cheol’s heart swells at the thought of you being so full of his cum—full of him. he thinks there’s no other way to express that you’re fully his other than this act of claiming.

he kisses you, stroking your cheek and uttering words of affection against your lips—and you feel that all is right with the world again.

WANTED IT TO BE LONGER THAN THIS! will be writing more of this au!! but for now,, thank you guys so much for 400 again!! can’t wait to be putting out more works soon! love u guys xx 🖤💋

perm taglist: @gyuguys @black-swan-blog27 @do-you-remember-summer-127

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Distance isn’t the solution | Bucky Barnes

// Pairing // College!Alpha!Bucky Barnes x College!Virgin!Omega!Fem!Reader

// Summary // Your heat isn’t only causing pain in your stomach, it also causes pain in your chest when you can be so close to your mate but at the same time so far away when he is the fuckboy he always is.

// Wordcount // 9.383 Words

// Warnings // Explicit Content // 18+, Minors DNI, A/B/O Dynamics, Bucky being a dick, true mates, losing virginity, choking, kind of dirty talk, praises, nipple play, fingering (fem!receiving), oral (fem!receiving), protected p in v, angst, fluff

// Authors Note // Thank you to @bucks-babe for encouraging me as well as for proofreading. This was in my drafts since April because I wasn’t motivated to write the smut but now here we are.

// Events // Hot Bucky Summer | Week Two | “What should I call you?” Master, Alpha, Pet | @buckybarnesevents | Kinky Things Happen Bingo | G2 | A/B/O Dynamics | @kinky-things-happen

// Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist //

When he walked into the room like the biggest idiot you were already annoyed because of him. James Buchanan Barnes, everyone immediately loved him and all the omegas were trying to jump in his arms so he could mark them.

But you? A confident but also shy Omega — you were the one in class who didn’t pay attention to his beautiful scent, to his ocean blue eyes and his rough laugh which caused goosebumps when you first heard it. But as much as the omega in you tried to get you closer to the handsome Alpha, you stayed away from him — not wanting to end up like another omega fucked and pushed away from him.

James looks like he is waiting for the omegas to get into their heat to fuck them. It wasn’t just for his pleasure since he helped them to handle the pain of their heat but on the other hand you don’t even know if he just fucked until he comes or until they do too. However, none of the Omegas ever mentioned that James claimed one of them, so he is only looking for a great round of fun to go to the next girl and have a new hole for his dick.

“Hi, pretty girl!” A rough voice says next to you and you roll your eyes. Since you’re using blockers — so you won’t have your heat and your scent isn’t there then as well — no Alpha is talking to you like that, except James.

“What do you want? I’m not in need to have something filling my hole,” you groan and his eyes widen before he smirks even wider. Wouldn’t you smell him, you would believe that he is smirking but his scent slightly changes when he is annoyed or angry — like right now. Before you can say something else he clenches his jaw and forms his hands into fists, slams them next to you on the table and leans down.

“Fucking hate ya attitude. Gonna need to show ya where ya belong to, ‘mega?” He asks, his voice low, chasing your throat to feel suddenly like a desert — dry and even dryer. He lets himself fall down next to you on the chair, your body tenses and you try to move as far as possible away from him. His hand which is still placed on the table is sliding closer to your hand. You’re pulling away, looking with widened eyes at the boy in front of you who can’t stop but laughs. “Ya know you can’t fucking resist me forever. Gonna fuck you at some point.”

“I’m not a toy for you, James,” you hiss, ready to slap him across his face but he leans back in the seat and shakes his head.

He has never had an Omega disobey or tried to resist him. And it annoys him that you do — you! He isn’t dump, he knows you’re mates but he isn’t ready for a relationship like that just yet. But that doesn’t stop him from wanting you, wanting to pound into you and make your eyes roll back while you come all over his cock. James knows that you use blockers so you won’t have your heat, but even through them he can slightly smell you and it makes him go crazy.

“Every girl wants to fuck me, so why don’t ya — ma mate — why do ya say no to me and my best friend?” James asks, looking down to his dick and you groan frustrated.

“Your best friend? Your cock is your best friend? Does he have a name? Maybe Bucky? Can you and your cock leave me alone, I don’t wanna fuck you!” You tell him, turning to face the whiteboard in front of the class.

“If ya wanna know, he doesn’t have a name. But he is pretty. I can show ya if ya want?” James asks, smirking when another frustrated groan leaves your lips.

He isn’t ugly, to be honest he is beautiful, handsome and muscular. With his soft brown hair, his steel blue eyes, the low voice and the perfect smile he is definitely the type of guy you like — but he is a fuckboy. James had probably sex with every girl in your age, probably also with almost everyone at the college.

“I don’t want to see your tiny dick, can you please fuck off and annoy another girl?” You mumble, feeling the Alpha next to you tensing even more. His hand snaps out, grasping your chin and he turns your head around so you have to face him.

“You shouldn’t talk like that with an Alpha! Especially not with your Alpha,” James says, his hand squeezing your jaw and you try to back away but his hold is too strong. You shut your eyes close, slight pain running through your jaw. A soft whimper leaves your lips, causing James to chuckle.

“You’re not my alpha,” you say through gritted teeth, making the boy in front of you even angrier with your behavior. He hates the way you talk back but at the same time he is so fucking turned on. (the cock is distracting)

“You know — just as I do — that we are mates. So shut the fuck up or I will help you after the class to do so!” He says, raising his eyebrows when you scrunch your nose. “Don’t look like that.”

“Can you please fuck off?” Your voice is calm but he can still hear a slight change in it. But it’s nothing he thought he would hear, it’s more like a slight hint of pain in your voice. Your hands find their way to your lower stomach and you press down, trying to get rid of the feeling that builds down there.

James tilts his head slightly, inhaling deeply when the reason you act like that hits him. Your heat is coming and your blocker doesn't work anymore — but you don’t act like you know it. He lets go of your chin, inhaling once more. Your scent causes his dick to grow and with every breath he smells you more and more — already addicted to you scent.

“Fuck—“ you mumble, trying to curl yourself more into a little ball. A low groan from behind you makes you turn toward James and a quiet whimper leaves your lips. Before James can say something, you take your things, getting up to storm out of the room. He looks at you, hearing you excuse yourself before you run out of the class.

The smell of you is surrounding James, causing him to groan before he leans back and inhales deeply. The bulge in his pants grows when he thinks about you, moaning underneath him, squirming and whining while he pounds his dick into your tight cunt.

You run along the floor, your hands holding your stuff tightly pressed against you. Your lower stomach sends waves of pain through you. Tears fall down your cheeks, the pain gets worse and you realize you just went into your heat — you see that especially when the Alphas around you inhale deeply and groan, their eyes are on you while you make your way to your dorm.

When you reach your dorm you throw your stuff to the side, letting yourself fall down on your bed to curl yourself together. The pain in your stomach grows and you whimper slightly, pressing your hands on your stomach to get rid of the pain but it just doesn’t want to work.

You haven’t had your heat in a long time since you used those blockers but now they don’t want to help anymore and you’re thrown in your heat. You know that sex with an Alpha would help — sex with your mate to make the pain in your belly less worse. But asking another Alpha or James to have sex with you? You don’t want to be a toy for them and you’re way too shy to just ask someone to help you with such an intimate thing.

James shifts in his seat, a feeling he never felt before appears in his body — something like pain and guilt. The teacher is just explaining something when he just gets up from the chair, causing it to crash against the table behind him. Every pair of eyes is suddenly on him but he doesn’t mind, he takes his things and walks toward the teacher. Just before he reaches him he turns to the side and walks to the door, leaving the room. With fast and heavy steps he makes his way through the floor.

You’re still curled on your bed when you hear a loud knocking. You only whimper, tears falling down your cheeks and soaking your sheets. When you manage to say a quiet ‘yes?’ the door swings open and you can hear heavy footsteps, then the closing of the door. You inhale deeply, body tensing when you recognise the smell.

“Don't you have classes or can you ask another girl to suck off your cock?” You mumble quietly. James chuckles, slightly annoyed about your attitude but he pushes it away and walks further to you.

“Think ya need some help, ‘mega,” he says, sitting down next to you on the bed. His hand reaching out to stroke over your side, your body still tensed and you tremble slightly when his warm, soft skin touches yours. “Can feel it, so let your Alpha help ya with the heat.”

You shake your head, curling further into the ball you already are. His touch is so soft and warm and you just want to give in. But James is a fuckboy and you’re a virgin and even though he is your mate you don’t want to be just another girl he fucked for him.

His hand slips under the fabric of your shirt, caressing the soft skin of your lower belly and his hands feel so good, that you move a bit closer to the Alpha, his thigh pressing against your ass, while he rubs your lower stomach softly.

“Feelin’ good, doll?” He asks, his voice soft and you nod. Pressing yourself more against him.

Your pussy is throbbing and you crave more of his touches. His scent surrounding you and his warmth against you makes your mind go fuzzy and he knows it. James feels the same way, but he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable to he let you decide if you want him to fuck you or not, even if he would make love to you.

You’re looking so pretty and he wants to see more of you, James wants to hear those whimpers which are leaving your lips because his cock is stroking your walls, hearing your sweet moans while he thrusts into you. “Can I touch you a bit lower?”

Another shake of your head causes him to sigh softly. You turn your head, looking at him with heated cheeks and red eyes. “‘M a virgin. And I’m not beautiful, you will laugh about me,” you say, looking through your lashes.

A low chuckle leaves James lips, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you up until you sit in his lap, your back pressed against his chest. You can feel his growing bulge against your ass, squirming softly in his lap. His hands grabbing your waist tighter, holding you in place while he leans closer and kisses your neck softly.

“You’re beautiful, doll! Let me take care of ya,” he groans, nibbling at your skin. You throw your head slightly back, the feeling of his lips and teeth scratching over your neck makes you cunt leaking even more.

You nod your head, giving in to the pleasurable feelings he is causing. James' hand slides further down to your thighs. He moves his big hands up and down your inner thigh, his lips still touching your neck. When one of his hands reaches your covered pussy you squirm, shifting on his leg and your body tenses once again.

“Still, omega! You can relax, I’m not gonna hurt you, just help you to get through your heat,” he says, fingers circling your clit through the fabric of your pants. You squirm a bit on his lap, feeling his bulge growing in his pants. A soft moan slips past your lips, his fingers still rubbing your clit slowly.

“James, please,” you mumble, throwing your head against his shoulder. He groans, his hands grabbing your waist and he pushes you further down on his covered cock.

“That's not what you're supposed to call me,” he says, kissing your jawline and down to your neck. His lips feel way better than you expected and you lean more against James. “Come on, say it and I will make you feel good. You will never want another dick in your tight pussy.”

His hands make their way to the hem of your shirt, he grasps it, pulling at it until you move a bit away from him and let him take off your shirt. He throws it to the side, his hands find their way back to your sides, snaking over your belly and caressing your skin softly.

James lips are on your neck, he nibbles on your sensitive skin, leaving marks on your neck. You moan softly, his hands sliding up to capture your breasts with his huge hands. “Say it properly, doll.”

“A—Alpha, please,” you whine, rocking your hips slowly against him. His cock pressing painfully against his pants. James unclasps your bra, letting it fall down before his hands make their way back to your breast. His fingers pinching your nipples softly, he twirls them while he listens to your soft moans.

James grins, his lips sliding along your neck. He groans when he inhales deeply, inhaling your beautiful and intoxicating scent. “Good girl.”

You place your hands on top of his, bringing them to your belly but you wait a moment before you place them at the hem of your pants. James gently bites nto your soft skin, causing you to yelp in surprise. He slides one of his hands underneath your pants, still having the thin fabric of your panties between your pussy and his fingers.

James circles your clit through your panties, you buck your hips forward, causing more pressure on your clit. A low moan slips past your lips. He chuckles, loving the way you move against his fingers to ask for more friction. “Wanna feel my fingers in your sweet little pussy, omega?”

You nod lightly. James pulls his hand out of your pants, opening them before he places you properly on the bed and helps you out of them, throwing them somewhere in the room before he gets back in between your legs. Now there is only the thin fabric of your panties that's between your pussy and his fingers.

He crawls between your spread legs, smirking down at you. The Alpha brings his fingers back to your clit, pressing softly against your sensitive button before he pushes the fabric to the side so he can finally slide his fingers through your wet folds until he reaches your entrance. A soft whimper leaves your lips when James pushes a finger against your tight entrance. He then pushes his finger slowly into your tight pussy. Your walls are squeezing his finger already and he makes his cock even harder in anticipation.

“Fuck, look at your, doll. Taking my finger like the good omega you are, huh? So fucking tight, can't wait to fuck you probably, ‘mega,” Bucky growls, his voice lower as usually and his eyes look like the are only dark shades instead of the ocean blue you're used to see when you look at him.

“B-James, please,” you whine, arching your back to push yourself more against him. His expression changes lightly when he notices the name that almost slipped past your lips. What would he give for it — he wants, he needs to hear you calling him by his nickname, maybe not while he fucks you but in every other situation where you’re not calling him Alpha.

With a chuckle he curls his finger inside of you, your arousal making it easy for him to move inside of you. His finger massaging your sweet spot, bringing you faster to the edge than you ever thought would be possible. James feels the change of your soft moans and the way your pussy is sucking him deeper while you squeeze him violently. He pulls his finger out of you, leaving you needy and whining for more.

“Quiet, Omega. You get what you need but don't want you to come just now, doll,” he mumbles, leaning closer to kiss along your collarbone. His one hand is caressing the soft skin of your thigh, while he uses his other hand to keep him steady above you. “I'm gonna take off your panties now, and I want you to let your legs spread apart. You're beautiful and there is nothing to be ashamed of, got it, Omega?”

With a soft nod, you let your head fall backwards into the pillows but James just towers over you without doing anything. Not even your soft whimper or the bucking of your hips causes him to do nothing else but looking at you with raised eyebrows. “Alpha, please. I got it, but please, need you.”

He grins softly, pressing his lips against yours before he sits up and removes his other hand from your thigh. You want to complain when James is already grasping the hem of his shirt to take it off. He reveals his high defined chest muscles and his Pratt abs, smirking even wider when he sees the way your eyes roam over every little inch of his body.

“Y-You look pretty, James,” you mumble, causing him to laugh softly. You have never heard him laugh that sweet, and just the little moment causes you to fall slowly for the Alpha. It’s the moment he wears a mask in front of everyone because that sweet laugh right now was real — not the way he chuckles when he is around his friends or someone else. And maybe it’s something he only reserves for you.

“Not as pretty as you, doll,” he smirks, bringing his hands back to your thighs and moves them to your covered pussy. He then grips the thin fabric of them, ripping them apart. You gasp, your eyes widen and you want to complain but he shakes his head softly. “No complaining, omega. I will buy you new panties.”

You know better than to argue with your Alpha, so you let your head just fall backwards into the pillows again, sighing softly when you feel his soft touch moving slowly to your pussy. James immediately pushes one of his digits into your tight entrance, followed by another. Your walls are tightening around him, making it almost impossible for him to move his fingers inside of you.

“Alpha, you won’t fit,” you whine, already struggling to take his fingers. But luckily your Alpha knows better and when it doesn't fit he will make it fit. He pushes his fingers deeper into you, curling them before he pulls them slowly out of you. James always hits your sweet spot with his digits, earning soft moans and whimpers from you.

“We will make it fit, look how well you take my fingers. Doing so well for me, doll. Taking them like the good, pretty omega you are for your Alpha,” he says, leaning down to press his lips against your clit, then sucking softly.

Your eyes widen, the pleasure immense and you aren't sure if you ever felt something like that before. But you’re almost sure you never felt so good before, his fingers hitting all the right spots inside of you, while he sucks at your clit, turning you into nothing but a whining and moaning mess underneath him.

Pussy clenching and throbbing, while he brings you closer to the edge. You feel the knot in your stomach growing, and before you can say anything to warn James he speeds his fingers inside of you up, his lips never leaving your clit while he enjoys your soft moans, the way your pussy squeezes him and especially the way you press your legs together but get stopped by his broad shoulders.

With a loud moan you come over his fingers, moaning loudly while he never stops moving his fingers, thrusting them in a steady yet fast pace into your tight pussy. James fucks you through your oragsm, his mouth dropping to your entrance, his tongue working into you next to his fingers.

"Alpha, too sensitive,” you whine but still pushing your hips forward to meet his tongue and movements of his fingers. He chuckles against your skin, continuing to eat you out for a moment longer before he licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit. Then he sits up, his beard slightly glistening because of your arousal, and it makes him only hotter, especially when his tongue darts out to take everything of your cum that's still covering his pink, plump lips.

“Mhm, you taste delicious, could stay between your legs all day so I could have your sweet taste all day, and you moan, you sound so good when you moan for me like that.” With one movement your Alpha gets off the bed, he opens his belt and pushes his pants down, followed by his boxer briefs.

James rock hard cock springs free, his red time leaking with pre-cum and James isn't just long, he is also thick. A vein running along the underside of his thick shaft and you have the urge to slide a finger or your tongue along it. You want to taste him too, want to have all of his cum down your throat but even more you need him deep in your pussy.

“Like what you see, ‘mega?” He asks, walking closer to the bed again, in his hand he has a condom you didn't even realize he had in his pocket. James gets in between your legs again, sitting on his knees, his dick resting against his stomach. Your eyes on his length, while he opens the package of the condom and pulls it out, rolling it down his cock.

James looks at you with an intense stare, smirking when you wiggle lightly underneath him. He spreads your legs further apart, placing himself perfectly in between them before he grasps the base of his length and moves it over your clit and through your folds to your entrance.

You’re moaning loudly, arching your back to get more of him but he slides his cock up to your clit again. He loves the soft, desperate whines you make when he teases you. When you’re all needy and almost cock drunk but he doesn’t give you his dick just yet.

“A—Alpha, please,” you whine, your hands looking for something to ground yourself which ends up being his arm and the bed sheets. You’re so in need of his cock, of him. You don’t mind that you sound like a desperate slut because right now, you only want him to fuck you already, make you feel so good.

“Love when you beg, sounding so sweet and so fucking desperate. Go on, beg for my cock, omega,” James growls, his chest rising and falling and his eyes widened, filled with lust while he looks at you. He wants you to beg for his cock, he needs it — even though it’s hard to resist you he wants to hear your soft whines and whimpers.

“Alpha, please. Please, need you so bad, need to feel you. Your cock, please,” you cry out when he slaps the tip of his cock against your sensitive clit.

With a chuckle he brings his cock to your entrance once again. The leaking tip pressing against your entrance and you suck in a deep breath when he pushes into you. You moan, your pussy is being stretched in a way it never was and you feel some tears falling down your cheeks when he pushes further into you.

Your Alpha looks the whole time into your eyes, his one hand reaching up to wipe the tears away. His lips trailing along your jaw before he reaches your lips and kisses you desperately but still soft. “Shh, it’s fine. I will make you feel so good once I’m inside of you completely.”

He pushes his cock slowly into you, he doesn’t want to hurt you. He would love to take away all the pain but the only thing he can do is fucking you slow and soft so he won’t hurt you more. You nod your head, fingers digging into his soft skin.

“Doin’ so well. Yeah, almost inside, ‘mega. You feel so good, such a good girl,” James praises, earning a soft smile between moans and whines. He eventually pushes completely into you, his balls resting against your ass.

The stretch hurts slightly but his hands stroking your sides and his cock twitching inside of you causing the pain to fade away and turn into pleasure. He kisses down your neck, waiting for you to adjust to his cock and giving him permission to move.

“I—I think you can move, Alpha,” you say quietly, blushing softly. He grins at you and moves his hips back, his thick length sliding almost out of you. When it’s only his tip that’s still inside your pussy he thrust forward once again.

James’ thick, veiny cock is moving in and out of you, causing a feeling in your stomach you never had before — at not as intense as it is now. The alpha groans against your neck, he tries his best to not just grasp your hips and fuck into your like a wild animal.

Your pussy is squeezing him so much, he feels like he is going to come in just a few seconds when your walls grip him as tightly as they do. Your alpha is already addicted to the feeling, loving your sweet sounds and the feelings of your fingers digging into his skin to ground yourself.

“Good girl, take my cock like the good omega you are,” he says, throwing his head back the moment your walls clench around his cock, sucking him deeper into you. “Look at you, being all greedy and desperate for my cock, huh?”

The smirk on his lips is adorable and wouldn’t you feel so embarrassed about the fact that you want him to rail you until the bed breaks you would have smiled back. But your thoughts of him slamming into you, running you wander through your mind and you can’t help but moan when you look at him.

“Please, move. Need you, need it so bad, please, Alpha,” you whine, eyes rolling back when he pulls out of you once again.

You don’t have to ask him twice. James pushes forward with more force this time, earning another moan. The tip of his cock kissing your cervix and your eyes widen. The Alpha feels better than a toy or your fingers could make you feel.

His thrusts speed up, he fucks you with such force that even the bed is starting to move and hits the wall with every movement forward. James’ fingers are interlaced with yours, pressing your hands down next to your head. While your fingers dig into the back of his hand, he digs his fingers into the bedsheets.

Your pussy is literally grappling his cock and holding him inside of you. The base of his cock swells with every thrust, every moan and every whimper. The moment he feels his knot growing more he pounds into you harder.

“Fuck, doing so good. Giving you all my cum, omega. Fuck, fuck—“ he groans, looking deep into your eyes. He doesn’t want to come before you do or at least with you, but he is so close and he can’t hold back anymore.

With a smooth movement he brings his hand down your front, reaching your clit and pressing against it before he smirks and rubs it. It’s all too much for you, his cock hitting your sweet spot every time he pushes into you and his talented fingers rubbing your clit bringing you over the edge.

“Please, come with me. Please, need you to come inside of me, need your cum. Please, Alpha,” you beg, coming all over his cock with a loud moan. Your pussy is squeezing James dick harder than before, holding him in place while he comes into you, his knot holding his cock buried deep inside of you while he still moves his dick as much as possible inside of you.

With a low groan he comes inside of you, his seeds shooting out and into the condom. He pants but smirks at you, admiring your sweaty skin, glistening but still looking so soft.

“Good girl, you were so good for me,” he mumbles, kissing your neck. You just lie there, your fingers running through his soft hair while he kisses your soft skin. When you both come down from your highs he slowly removes his cock to throw the condom away.

Back next to you he lies on the bed and pulls you on top of him, smirking when you squeak in surprise. He chuckles softly and earns a soft giggle from you too.

James' arms are wrapped around you, your head placed on his chest, while you listen to his heartbeat. His fingers draw small circles on your back while you both still calm down from your orgasm and the intense but good sex.

“Feelin’ better, ‘mega?” He asks, looking at you with his perfect steel-blue eyes. The wide smirk on his face and the slight blush on his cheeks causes a tingling in your stomach.

You nod, kissing his chest. Your eyes meet his and you get lost for a moment. James leans closer, his lips capturing yours and you sigh softly into the kiss. And he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, groaning about your taste.

He smirks, leaning back and pulling you closer. Your scent is intoxicating and he just can’t get enough of it. But the feelings and thoughts he has when he is around you scare him — he never wanted to be closer with someone, and even though you’re his mate he is still unsure how to feel about that.

“Have you ever thought about being with an Alpha, being his?” He asks, turning to face you. Your chin is placed on his chest when you look at him, narrowing your eyebrows while you think about it.

Have you ever thought about being close to someone? Being marked, claimed by an omega which would mean you belong with him forever. You nod your head slightly and Bucky's eyes widen. “I’ve thought about being claimed by someone who isn’t my true mate.”

“Do you want it? To me claimed by another Alpha who isn’t your mate?” He asks, his eyes glistening with curiosity when those words slip over his lips.

“I would because you can be a dick. And you don’t want to be with someone more than a night. So I kind of regret that I lost my virginity to you — but you helped me with the pain of my heat so I’m grateful, though,” you say, earning a low growl from the Alpha.

No Omega has ever talked to him like that, calling him a dick. He has one — a huge, pretty cock — but being a dick? He just doesn’t want to be with an Omega just yet, right? This with you was also only because he wouldn’t like you to suffer with your heat but it was one time, wasn’t it?

“Have you ever thought about it? Claiming an Omega?” You ask, curious about his answer. But he only shrugs, smirking at you. You turn your head, getting some rest from the exhausting sex the two of you just had.

Bucky sighs softly, his fingers still sliding over your skin while he thinks about your question. He has never really thought about it, too young to think about claiming an omega. He wants to have fun with whoever he wants to have. But seeing you so peacefully sleeping in his chest, the way you moaned and looked when he fucked you and when you came — when you screamed his name — seeing you every time after school when he goes to his dorm, being cuddled up with his Omega?

The next day Bucky goes back to the way he was before the two of you had sex. A dick and flirting with every Omega he likes. He isn’t even looking at you, only avoiding you.

For a moment you thought he had changed, that the two of you could be more than just classmates but now he shows you again that he is just an Alpha who doesn’t manage to leave his dick in his pants.

You walk into the classroom, Bucky's standing next to the door with an Omega who almost drops on her knees to suck his cock in front of the whole class. “Like being called a slut, huh?”

The girl nods, and looks up at Bucky, earning a low chuckle when he turns around and makes his way to his seat. You’re lowering your head when he passes you, not wanting to see those beautiful blue eyes or those soft, plump and kissable lips of his.

The girl is giggling when she takes a seat next to her friend, talking to her while they both look every now and then at Bucky. You feel a harsh pain flowing through your body and this time it's not your heat. This time it’s to see your Alpha flirting with someone else and acting like he doesn’t even know you, like the two of you haven’t had sex.

“Good! Then we talked about the difference yesterday,” your teacher interrupts your thoughts. You don’t know what they talked about yesterday and your heart is aching so bad that you don’t even want to listen to it now.

You turn your face to the window, looking out, while you try to ignore every noise around you. Actually you would listen to the teacher, would write down some notes but with the heavy feeling in your chest you just want to go into your bed and cry. Cry about Bucky and being nothing but a toy for him. You should have known but he was so cute that there was the tiny thought he could be more than just a dick. Why does your mate has to be such a dick, he could be like other ones and be nicer but he has to fuck every omega he can reach and who is filling to let him fuck them.

“Y/N? You look really distracted today? Are you feeling oke or do you want to go out for a bit?” Your teacher asks but you only shake your head. You suddenly feel every pair of eyes on you and you just want to make yourself as small as possible to escape all those gazes while your cheeks heat up.

A low groan behind you causes everyone to look immediately away from you and back to the teacher who nods with a smile on his lips.

Bucky groans frustrated, not used to feelings like he has right now. Everyone looking at you like you could be their prey makes him go crazy. No one is allowed to look at you like that, right? But why is it bothering him? He doesn’t even feel something for you, he helped you out with your pain caused by your heat and now he can fuck whoever he wants. But there is that part in him — the Alpha — that tries to stop him from hurting you more, the pain in your chest mixed in your scent and he can smell it.

He can smell the changed scent, he feels guilty for hurting you like that. For causing so much pain in your chest but Bucky just can’t be with someone just yet. He wants to go to parties and hook up with whoever crosses his way during the party, he wants that, doesn’t he?

The whole lesson you’re quiet, not even looking at the paper in front of you. Blue eyes piercing in your back and Bucky’s jaw is clenched when he sees a classmate moving closer toward you. His hand rests next to yours and when he talks to you you look at him, smiling softly. Another low groan leaves his lips, how can he dare to get close to you — to Bucky’s omega..

“Want a drink after school?” The Alpha next to you asks and smirks at you. You shake your head, maybe you should just move on with another Alpha or just pay attention to get good marks but since the sex with Bucky you can’t push the feelings away. “Who hurt you, pretty girl?”

“No one, just not in a mood to get a drink,” you grumble, placing your hand on his arm. He nods, placing his hand on yours and you shiver slightly when his soft skin touches yours.

The loud sound of a chair crashing against a table and a fist punching hard on the surface of a table causes you all to turn around. Your eyes widen when you see Bucky standing there, fixing the Alpha who has his hand on yours, narrowing while he inhales deeply.

“Take your hands off of my Omega!” He growls, surrounding his table to get closer to the other Alpha who’s hand is still on yours.

“I’m not your Omega, Barnes,” you hiss, freeing your hand anyway and get up from the chair. Every pair of eyes is on the two of you. Not even the teacher interrupts you, while you step closer to Bucky and lift your hand to poke a finger against his broad chest. “Don't call me that! You haven’t claimed me and you have shown me damn well that you just want one fuck.”

He groans, grasping your hand and pulling you against his chest. You smell his beautiful scent and you just want to lean more into him, but he was hurting you and now he acts like you’re his omega, and no other Alpha could be with you.

“Don’t talk to me like that, ‘mega!” He demands, his grip tightens and you hiss. You try to wiggle out of his grasp but he only tightens it and pulls you even closer.

“You’re a dick, Barnes,” you growl, lifting your other hand to slap him across his face. His eyes widen and he suddenly lets go of you. You immediately turn around and take your stuff, pushing him to the side and walking out of the room.

Everyone is looking at Bucky, his cheek red and he is sure your handprint is visible. He looks at you while you walk out of the room he then gets back to his seat and lets himself fall down. The teacher clears his throat, getting the attention of the students and continues the lesson.

You’re rushing through the hallway, not sure where to go. The feelings inside of you boil, almost ready to burst out. You can still feel Bucky’s hand around your arm, his scent in your nose while you groan quietly.

When you finally find a little corner where no one is immediately seeing you you sit down, pulling your legs closer and wrap your arms around them. Then you place your head on your knees, looking through the floor — at least the part of it you can see.

Tears building in the corner of your eyes, slowly falling down your cheeks and you sob quietly. Why is your mate such a dick? Fucking you, being all sweet and then being such a dick. You can’t even talk to other Alphas because he is jealous but he is flirting with Omegas like he would fuck them immediately.

The rest of the lesson the brown-haired Alpha is staring at the other Alpha. Still annoyed that he dared to touch Bucky’s omega. He really doesn't know what happens with his feelings and his thoughts but he knows that the Alpha in him has to take care of his Omega. And the thought of some other Alpha seeing you whimpering and moaning while they push their dicks into your tight cunt makes him go crazy.

When the lesson ends he immediately pushes his stuff into his bag, throwing it over his shoulder and walks out of the room. He doesn’t walk much before a fist hits his face and his head is thrown to the side while someone is pressing him against the wall behind him. His back aches as well as his cheek and nose when he grasps the shirt of the person in front of him.

“You fucking idiot. Gonna punch you so hard that you can’t even remember your own name,” the Alpha in front of Bucky says. “Think you can play with her, huh? Gonna cut off your cock!”

Bucky’s hands are still fisting the shirt of Brock Rumlow while he tries to turn them both around so the other Alpha is pressed against the wall. “You don’t fucking know anything. She is my Omega so take your hands off of her!”

“And you treat your Omega like that? You’re a pathetic Alpha, Barnes,” Rumlow growls, freeing himself and walking away from Bucky.

The brown haired boy is panting, his eyes slightly widened when reality hits him once again. Rumlow wasn’t wrong, Bucky acts like an idiot but he just can’t handle the feelings he has for you — scared of being a shit Alpha for you, scared of being with someone.

He inhales deeply even though there are so many different smells but he can still smell you — intense and he can say you’re not feeling too good. Since he doesn’t want someone to listen to the two of you, he waits until the next lesson starts before he makes his way to you, knowing that you’re sitting in the corner, hiding yourself.

When you smell him your body tenses and your sobs stop for a moment. Hoping that he just walks past you but when his heavy footsteps stop just around the corner you shift further into the corner. Bucky bends down looking at you with his pretty ocean blue eyes and you whimper when he reaches his hand out to touch you.

“Come out there, ‘mega.” He says, softly but still demanding. You shake your head, ready to bite him when he comes further toward you but he doesn’t. He only groans frustrated, then he stands straight again and walks a few steps forward. “Come out there. NOW! Don’t like to repeat myself, Omega!”

The sudden change in his voice makes you whimper. Bucky sounds not as soft and patient anymore, his tone is rough and demanding. But you really don’t feel like you want to follow his orders, he isn’t you’re Alpha and he hurt you, so why should you be a good Omega for him now — especially when you’re not even his omega.

“Leave me alone, idiot!” You hiss. Your body tenses even more when a lower groan as you have ever heard before is leaving his lips. But you still don’t want to get out of the corner. You want to be alone or— “I would prefer any other Alpha instead of letting you touch me once again!”

“Shut the fuck up and come here! I’m your Alpha and you’re going to listen to me,” he says, trying to calm himself down. He actually just wants to talk nicely to you but your attitude and the knowing he hurt you causes impatient in him. He just wants me to be there for you, take care of you like an Alpha should do that for their Omega.

“Fuck off, Alpha. You’re an fucking idiot and I don’t wanna talk to you!” You almost shout. It’s not true, you want to talk to him, you want him to hold you, to kiss you, to love you — to make you his Omega.

“Doll, please. I’m sorry, can you please come out there. I just wanna talk with you,” he tries again, this time his voice so soft and caring that more tears fall down your cheeks. Why can’t Bucky always be like that? Sweet and lovingly.

“But stay away and we’re not going to talk in the hallway,” you say, grasping your bag and getting out of the corner. Bucky looks at you and a soft smile forms on his lips when he sees you but it immediately fades away when he sees your red eyes and the wet trails down your cheeks.

He just wants to hold you tight, wiping your tears away but he knows when he walks further to you without you allowing him you won’t talk to him. His heart is aching but he tries to push it to the side, waiting for you to walk into the direction you want to go to talk.

You turn around, walking toward the dorms and Bucky follows you like a lost puppy. When you stand in front of the door of your dorm you turn around. “Or do you want to talk in your dorm?”

Bucky shakes his head, he doesn’t mind where you’re going to talk as long as you let him explain why he acted so shitty. With a nod you open the door to your dorm and let him walk into it as well.

“What do you want?” You ask, voice cold and Bucky’s eyes widen slightly. A cold shiver running along his spine when you talk to him like that. You’re letting yourself fall down on your bed, moving to the headboard while he takes a seat on the other side of the bed.

“I love you, and I can’t stand the way those other Alphas look or touch you. That smile, the joy I saw in your eyes yesterday,” he mumbles, looking at his hands while he sighs deeply.

“Shut up and leave those words for one of your other bitches! You used me like a fucking toy,” you say, narrowing your eyebrows. “You can fuck any omega you want to fuck but don’t play with me!”

“I’m not playing with you—“ he tries to say but interrupts himself when you raise your eyebrow and turn your hand into fists, jaw clenching. “Omega! Calm down!”

Even though you don’t want it, the Omega in you immediately reacts to his order and a soft whimper leaves your lips. He hums when you pull your legs up and wrap your arms around them, placing your chin on your knees and looking at Bucky, but avoiding his eyes.

“I would never play with you. But my feelings— I never had those feelings before and it scares me,” he admits, running his fingers through his soft hair. His eyes are looking for yours but you just don’t want to look into his eyes — don’t want to get lost in those beautiful ocean blue eyes.

“James, please. Can you keep all those words for someone you really mean it? I won’t stop you from fucking whoever you want. I will get my shit together and try to find someone who takes care of me during the heat,” you mumble. Tears suddenly build up in the corner of your eyes before they fall down your cheeks. Fuck! Why do you have to cry just yet? When he is there and tries to get closer to you — to play with you again?

Bucky sighs, he moves closer, ignoring that you told him to stay away from you. His hand captures your chin and he moves your head until you have to face him. He is so close, his breath hitting your lips and you want to lean into his touch, you want to feel those pink lips on yours. You want to feel the warmth of him, his sweet touches but you don’t want him to use you as a toy.

“I know you think I played with you but I didn’t. I just never thought I could feel the way I feel for you now. The only thing I did was fucking but then there was you. You had your heat and the Alpha in me — the one that belongs to you — wanted nothing more to comfort you, so I did. I took care of you but then there were suddenly so many feelings, so much I actually always pushed to the side,” he says, inhaling deeply. He didn’t know he could say that much about his feelings and still hasn’t said nothing at all.

“It was nice that you—“ you start to say but he interrupts you with a low groan. One that causes your pussy to clench and your feelings to go even crazier. Bucky smirks, smelling your arousal but as fast as his smirk appears it disappears, it’s not the right moment to just smirk at the person he loves but hurt so much.

“I wasn’t finished yet, ‘mega.” His voice is rough and kind of demanding that you stay quiet until he finishes talking. But at the same time it sounds so soft like he doesn’t want to scare you. “College was for me a good place to still my needs but I love you. I really do and for the first time since college I don’t want to fuck someone. And yes, the omega I talked to earlier wanted me, but even though I can be good in dirty talk with anyone, I wouldn't have fucked her. I just wanted to forget those feelings but I just want to comfort you — comfort my Omega. You belong to me, even though I never showed you before. But please let me do it now.”

Bucky didn’t expect you to shake your head but when you do his eyes suddenly darken and he growls. He tightens his grip around your chin, causing you to whimper quietly. He is so dominant that you just want to give into him but what he doesn’t know you haven’t shook your head because you meant no, you just wanted him to let go of your chin so you could talk properly — without muffled sounds or squeezed cheeks.

When you shove Bucky by his broad chest away you almost moan. His scent is intoxicating and his broad chest, high defined muscles underneath the fabric of his shirts lets the Omega in you show more of itself than you actually want it right now. He looks at you with a confused gaze but lets go of your chin.

“Let me talk before you growl at me, boy!” You say, earning a warning look from him which causes you to swallow harshly. “Sorry, Alpha. If you wanna prove that you can be different show me but that doesn’t mean I will be doing what you tell me! I’m not one of these omegas you fucked and then thanked you.”

“You will thank me for it too,” he says, darkly with a smirk on his face. When you just raise your eyebrow he immediately nods and moves closer toward you. “Sorry, ‘mega.”

Your eyes widen and you blink, unsure if you heard him right. Did he just apologize? James Bucky Barnes apologized by an Omega? His hands slide to your back and he caresses your skin softly but your muscles tensing and Bucky sighs. His blue eyes are piercing in yours and you feel a shiver along your spine when his hand doesn’t stop moving up and down your sides and back.

“Want it to make up to you, show you that you mean more to me than all those other girls,” he says, his hands letting go of you but find their place a moment later on your cheeks. He pulls you closer and just before your lips meet he waits for you to break the distance. His tongue slips across his lips, causing them to glisten slightly. “So shy, ‘mega, aren’t you?”

Bucky’s teasing makes you giggle softly. You didn't want to give in to him just yet but his scent, his touches and the way he looks at you are just too adorable to push him away. “Not shy, James!”

He groans about the name, wanting you to address him properly or at least with his nickname. “Doll,” he warns, raising an eyebrow and causing you to giggle even more. “Don’t tease me just yet.”

“You said you wanna make it up to me, so it’s part of it, James,” you say, lifting one of your hands to poke two of your fingers into his broad chest. He groans frustrated, nodding his head and lowering it just a moment later for you to kiss him. You chuckle, fingers sliding to his neck and you scratch softly over his soft skin, causing him to shiver underneath your touch.

“Can I kiss you now, ‘mega?” He asks, tilting his head slightly to the side. Bucky captures your cheeks with his hands, smiling softly. You suddenly smirk mischievous, a thought just plopped up in your mind and a way he could make things a bit up to you, when he does that.

“Choke me, Alpha,” you mumble, exactly knowing what kind of effect your words have on him. A low growl leaves his lips and he raises an eyebrow at you, then he smirks.

“You think you can demand things, omega?” His voice is low and sounds rougher as usual, causing you to shiver lightly. You nod your head though, the smirk never leaving your lips while your Alpha shakes his head in amusement. One of his hands sliding to your neck, his fingers slowly curling around it and digging softly into your sensitive skin.

“Harder, or are you just a little sub?” You tease, causing him to groan once more. His grip tightens and he pushes you back until you hit the headboard of the bed, swallowing harshly.

“That's what you like? Choking with my hand around your throat, why not choking by my cock in your pretty mouth?” He asks, chuckling softly when you whimper and press your tight together. “Yeah, that's what you like, having your Alphas cock deep down your throat.”

“B—But as much as I love it, I want you to make things up to me first. And we could start with a date,” you say, trying to push the thoughts you have away. Deep down you hope that the two of you end up in bed, he is on top of you, very soon because his cock feels just too good.

“Oke, how about we make a movie night, I bring all the snacks? And maybe I will claim you,” your Alpha says, smirking at you, still only inches away while he waits until you allow him to kiss you. He never lets an Omega decide that much but he has a crush on you for so long and the night with you, the Alpha in him — Bucky needs you, he loves you and he doesn't want to mess things up once again.

You nod, leaning even closer. Bucky's tongue pokes out, wetting his lips before he tilts his head further to the side. His eyes light up and the smile across his lips widens when you nod your head softly. Bucky breaks the distance between your lips, pressing his soft, plump once against yours. His one hand is still tightly wrapped around your throat, while the other slides down to your waist. You run your fingers through his soft hair, making him sigh softly about your soft touches.

He is addicted to you, and he will prove that he can be the one you deserve, who loves you more than everything. He wants you to show you that he loves you, showing you that his words, his feelings are real — that he really means when he confessed his feelings, knowing that you feel the exact same way he does.

// Taglist // @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @loki-laufeyson68 @winterschildren8 @bxtchboy69 @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes @sasha-writing @blackhawkfanatic @fanfictionreaderfan @multiversefanfics @angelbabyyy99 @looking1016 @aphrodite-xoxo

[tswkento]

author’s notes: as soon as i saw that satoru didn’t like this usami dude i knew i had to write this.

satoru had a growing suspicion that the usami guy — whom he couldn’t stand by the way — had a crush on you.

it’s so obvious to satoru, his six eyes burn with the assurance; ever since you and usami have been assigned to remaster the archives and check all of the reports since you two were the closest to higher-ups. at first, of course, when gojo heard that you won’t be taking all of the work onto yourself he was very much glad, good for you, but when usami appeared — that sleazy smirk and lazy look on face, the white haired man got kinda tense.

usami acted so different around you it made satoru go crazy whenever he noticed.

the way the tall brunette shamelessly leaned over you by the table as he read into the paper you showed him. the way he sat with his bony knee touching yours and his shoulder bumped into you whenever he passed you, for which he gave you an apologetic smile and patted your arm for too long.

satoru absolutely hated the way usami’s eyes softened whenever he looked at you and the way his voice turned hushed as if you’d be bothered in any way from his usual indifferent tone.

and it felt like that the fucking asshole knew how much it pissed satoru off and continued doing it so shamelessly and calmly just because the higher-ups wouldn’t replace him no matter what. ‘too much of an important asset’ his ass.

his eyes transforming into cold stones laced with triumph over him as he locked his gaze with satoru’s from across the room and whispered something into your ear. or when his thin lips twisted in the ugliest fucking smirk satoru’s ever seen — he truly hated the man.

don’t get him wrong: satoru trusted you wholeheartedly, he just didn’t trust that lapdog. he even complained about it to you, which you dismiss because usami is a great asset when it comes to the history of the whole jujutsu society and the tokyo branch where all of you are settled, he is a walking encyclopaedia and he knows a lot more than everyone because he basically acts like a teacher’s pet to higher-ups.

“i haaate that dude. he used to be mean to ijichi and he wants to steal my girl now? ridiculous!” which was kind of true — usami and ijichu were from the same year, but the latter got scrutinised a lot for choosing the job of an auxiliary manager instead of a sorcerer, needless to say.

you chuckled, not looking away from your papers as you stroked the back of his head, fingers scratching on his undercut, “look at you, defending ijichi when you bully him almost every day. i’m very proud.”

“hey! i’m always just joking around. usami is the real bully here.”

“right.” you nodded dismissively, shutting the manila folder in your hand as you stood up from your chair. satoru patiently waited as you tidied up the desk in the archive room, leaning against the other one, right when the door opened with an ugly squeak and usami came in, holding two identical cups of coffee.

“brought us some coffee— oh.” his eyes scanned satoru’s figure with a disappointed look, not giving him any verbal acknowledgement, before focusing on you, questioning, “i thought you were going to stay with me for the night?”

the choice of words is deliberate, spiteful with the purpose of egging satoru; which did piss him off a little bit, his hand squeezing around your waist in an attempt to ground himself. his mouth was still free though, so he didn’t hold back as his other hand grabbed one of the cups from usami’s hand, taking a big gulp from it and forcing his face not to twist in disgust from it’s taste(it just didn’t have any sugar).

he shrugged his shoulders, faux apology on his face as he smiled down at the brunette, “sorry, man, she’s busy with me.”

the tone of his voice didn’t leave any room for further inquiry so satoru just pulled you in for a quick kiss and guided you to the exit, turning his head to check on usami’s face one last time. the pure disappointment and resentment that covered his features was enough to make satoru smirk, which usami noticed, disdain adding into his expression.

“your coffee’s shit by the way.” satoru said right after letting you out of the room and then followed suit, not interested in usami’s reaction anymore.

“his coffee is good though. it’s from colombia.” you snickered, arm wrapping around satoru’s waist as you both walked through the hallway.

“no drink is good without sugar in it.” he threw the cup into the nearest thrash can and pulled you into his side, finally calm and satisfied with himself again.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Reader being Jason or Dick's girlfriend, who doesn't know about their double life, casually blurting out that she was never a fan of Batman and Robin or that she prefers Superman and the whole family is offended. 😭

I was tired and failed to realises that this came out a bit like a crack fic in the end but I’m sure you won’t mind…hopefully.

Jason: honestly has too much fun shit talking Bruce to you, especially when you didn’t know the man that you were shit talking as well as he did.

He just found it funny hearing you say with your full chest in front of his family that you prefer the Man of Steel over the Dark Knight.

It sends his entire family in disarray and chaos and Jason was thriving off of it immensely. He does not help the situation at all and would wholeheartedly make things worse for the sake of having something to talk about later.

Dick was borderline catatonic as Duke and Steph were trying to bring him back to reality.

Alfred excused himself from the room.

Damian was sharpening his dinner knife. Menacingly.

Meanwhile Tim was pulling up a long winded power point presentation about how statistically Batman was better than Superman. (In every possibly way, you’re just hating.)

That’s literally the title of his presentation.

‘Did he have this prepared in his free time or?’ You’d ask Jason who shrugs.

‘Let the boy have hobbies peanut, it’s not like he’s got anything better going for him right now.’ He replies, thinking that he should start coming to family dinners more if this was the end result.

Bruce might’ve looked the calmest out of everyone but internally he was cursing out Clark for stealing his future in law. He knew preferences exists and didn’t hold it against you, but currently he was in a disagreement with Clark over a recent mission and it had become a thing where the entire family didn’t dare speak or utter Clark/Superman’s name during this sensitive period.

Once Dick comes back to the land of the living, he’s practically hanging off of you screaming, ‘WHY?!’

Jason has to get involved and remove his brother off of you before he potentially scared you away from future family dinners, even though he himself barely attends any, but the moment you entered his life he wanted you to be more involved with the people in his life that cares about; whether he’d like to admit it or not.

‘They don’t hate me do they?’ You asked Jason by the end of the night, genuinely worried that his family might not like you after tonight.

Jason, noticing this, grabs your hands and grips them tightly in his and gives you a reassuring smile. ‘Babe I’m sure as shit they like you, I mean I’ve never seen them react like that before and if they didn’t like you, they would let you know immediately.’ He tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. ‘Besides, weren’t not a vocal bunch when it comes to our emotions. So seeing them get all up in arms over you preferring Superman and trying to persuade you into thinking otherwise was a highlight for me.’

‘Really you think so?’ You leant into him, still not fully convinced and needing his comfort more than anything.

‘Oh yeah. I’m for certain chipmunk. I think I even heard Bruce curse Clark under his breath once or twice.’ He tells you, pressing a kiss to your head as he holds you close.

‘But why? It’s not like they work with Batman, right?’ Your curious words caused Jason to stiffen and his breath to hitch as he tried to find the words before blurting out the first thing that came to his head. ‘No, they’re just…really devoted fans of Batman and Robin. So you could say that preferring Superman over them is a personal insult to them.’ He said, hoping you’d buy the lie, he genuinely didn’t want to subject you to the whole vigilantism so early on in your relationship.

Thankfully you did take the bait as you muttered into his shoulder, ‘okay, I hope they know I meant no offence but it.’ Jason let’s our a laugh, holding you closer to him as he closes his eyes to savour your bodily warmth against him. ‘I’m sure they do sweetheart, they’re the smartest people I know and they wouldn’t let something silly this affect our relationship.’ He said softly. ‘Now let’s go home and cuddle up in bed together yeah?’

‘That sounds like a great idea.’ You replied.

Dick: pouty baby.

What do you mean you don’t like Batman and Robin?! What did Superman have that he didn’t?!

For as far as Dick was concerned he has the fatter ass between him and Clark. He’s done the research.

He’s leaning all of his weight into you and says under his breath. ‘Why does my love betray me so.’ Meanwhile you’re looking at his confused as to why he’s acting as if you’ve just destroyed his lively hood with a single sentence.

Duke and Steph were patting Dick on the shoulder, sharing their sympathies with the revelation made at the dinner table.

Alfred left the room…again. First Jason’s partner, now Dick’s? What a coincidence.

Jason immeditly calls you his favourite and talks about how you and his partner -who also prefers Superman- would get along great while shit talks Batman simultaneously, almost as though he has a personal gripe with him or something.

Damian is sharpening his dinner knife…again but even more menacingly.

And Tim was back on the PowerPoint presentation where he goes into excruciating depths as to why Batman was statistically better the Superman.

The family is once again dissolved into chaos and Bruce was sat at the head of the table, calm, cool and collected but internally cursing Clark out once again for stealing another potential future in law.

(Clark has sneezed approximately twice at this rate and was taking every test to make sure he wasn’t coming down with anything serious)

After all was said and done and you were getting ready for bed, you asked the question that had been on your mind the entire night; ‘Your family doesn’t hate me, do they?’

Dick chuckled as he held you against his chest. ‘No, they love you enough to almost start a war over the fact that you like Superman over Batman and they’re not exactly the most in tune with their emotions. So seeing them react the way that they did? Only proves that they do like you cutie.’ He says as he gives you a peck on the lips.

You pouted. ‘But why does it feel like I just attached their lively hoods? It’s not like they know Batman or Robin personally or work with them in any capacity.’

Dick froze, he -much like Jason- didn’t want to subject you with the whole vigilante thing just yet, he didn’t want to scare you off so soon into the relationship in fear of scaring you away forever. ‘Devoted fans act like that whenever you tell them that you don’t like the same person as them.’ Dick replied, rubbing his hand up and down your back. ‘It’s an issue that should be regulated and or addressed at least.’

You hummed in agreement. ‘Well besides that, I like yours family, they all look like great people to know that have your back when you’re in a tough situation.’ You say as you kissed the side of his neck, nuzzling your face into his shoulder, feeling sleepy.

‘They really are.’ Dick replied softly. ‘They really are.’

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Seven Minutes

luke castellan x reader

A/N: i was so excited to write this request as soon as i saw it so i hope you enjoy!

TW: smut, luke being a cocky little shit

word count: 1,172 words

Playing seven minutes in heaven is not an appealing idea to you. You don’t like the idea of being trapped in a closet with a guy who isn’t of your choosing and it isn’t some stupid kissing game that’s over in a second, but there is sadly no saying no to Silena Beauregard. Your friend is literally the embodiment of an Aphrodite child with her ability to persuade. For gods’ sake she actually has the word ‘beautiful’ in her name and everyone knows that someone with such a likeness to the love goddess isn’t someone that can be refused.

“There’s going to be lots of good looking people there I promise… Charlie, Clarisse… Luke.” Silena murmurs the last name.

“What?” You’re clearly pissed. She can hear it in your tone.

“What do you mean ‘what’?” She asks innocently.

“What was the last name you just said?”

“Oh, nothing. I was just listing people at camp who are objectively attractive.”

“Just objectively attractive or objectively attractive and playing seven minutes in heaven tonight?” You ask, giving her a pointed look.

“The second one.” She replies quietly.

“I’m not going if Luke is going to be there.” You tell her petulantly, stopping in your tracks like you’re going to turn around and head back to your cabin.

“So you did hear me.”

“I’m not going.” You start to walk back but she grabs your wrist.

“Yes you are!”

“I’m not. I hate him. I want him dead. I pray for his downfall on every quest he goes on.”

“All I can hear is that you spend a lot of time thinking about him.”

“Silena!”

“I’m sorry but if you think about it, all this hatred could just be pent up sexual frustration.”

“It’s not.”

“It could be!” She realizes that she isn’t anywhere close to getting through to you so she holds both your hands in hers. “Please just come. The bottle most likely won’t even land on him anyway. Just think about it as a fun night.”

“Fun night my ass.” You grumble but turn around and begin to walk back to the Aphrodite cabin. Silena giggles excitedly.

When you walk in, almost everyone of the older campers in Silena’s friend group are already there. Your eyes fall on Luke first and he gives you an annoying little smirk.

“Okay, now that everyone important is here…” Silena smiles before sitting down. Clarisse hands her an empty beer bottle. “I’ll go first.” She spins the bottle and grins when it lands on Charles. If your eyes aren’t deceiving you, you could swear Clarisse’s face drops for a millisecond.

The person next to Charles goes next, and then Clarisse goes and now, it’s your turn. You’re not really sure how it’s your turn already, but you aren’t about to argue with Silena over the spinning order. You look at Luke before you spin and he gives you another cocky smirk. You try to ignore him and spin the bottle, doing it perhaps a touch too hard because it goes in circles forever. When the bottle slows, it is clearly about to stop on some Apollo kid before it shifts a little more and lands on Luke.

What the fuck?

He looks away from a son of Boreas to you. “Up you get then, princess.” He stands.

You look at Silena with ‘help me’ eyes but she shrugs with a guilty grin. So now you’re walking over to Luke. He holds out a hand so he can lead you to the closet but you slap it away as you pass him. He turns on a dim light as you enter and shuts the door behind him.

“Look at my luck.” He says in a suave tone, holding his hands out like it was the gods’ bidding.

“Did you really bribe a wind god kid so that the bottle would land on you?”

“Perceptive.” He comments. “I was just lucky that I happened to be sitting North of you. So maybe it is the gods’ will.”

“You think it’s the gods will that we fuck in this closet?” You scoff.

“You said it, baby not me.” His right hand falls to your waist, gripping at your love handles. “But sadly, we don’t have enough time for me to fuck you properly.”

“Get your hands off me.” Your gaze is filled with a lot of passion. Whether that passion is lust or hate, he isn’t sure.

“Make me.”

When you don’t make him take his hands off you (which you most could) he takes that as a sign that you want him just as much as he wants you, so he pulls you in for a rough kiss. You hate how you kiss him back, whimpering into his mouth when you feel his hand slip up your thigh to rub you through your jeans. He slips his tongue into your mouth as he begins to make quick work of your zipper. Luke tugs your jeans down and chuckles at the sight of your lacy panties.

“Were you planning on getting screwed tonight or is this just coincidence?” 

“Shut up.” You murmur before forcing your mouth back against his.

He rubs you through your panties for a second but you both know you’re short on time so he slips them to the side, sliding his fingers through your arousal. 

“Gods, you’re so wet.” He whispers into your mouth before plunging two fingers inside of you, curling them in just the right spot. You whine softly, pissed at how good he is at touching you. He leans his head down and begins to kiss your neck. He suckles on the same spot for about a minute so he leaves a deep red mark. “Oops, left a little colour.”

“Luke!” You scold quietly and he begins to rub your clit with his thumb so you can’t think straight enough to say anything else.

“Just have to let people know who’s girl you are, princess.” He starts rubbing your clit a little harder. “Who’s girl are you?”

You’re feeling so good and you’re so close to your peak that you moan out, “Your girl.”

“That’s right. Cum on my fingers, baby.” He demands and you do right away, squeezing around his fingers as you get your release. “You better get dressed.” He says as he checks his watch. “You’ve got about 12 seconds before they open that door.”

He’s clearly amused as you struggle to get your pants back on in time but that doesn’t mean you don’t notice as he licks your cum off his fingers, moaning just a little bit.

“Times up, lovebirds.” One of the other Aphrodite girls says as she swings open the door.

You walk out as soon as she does and you don’t make eye contact with anyone as you storm out of the cabin.  

“We’re done with the game for today.” Luke says cockily as he quickly grabs both your jackets and chases you out the door for round two.

Silena grins. “I knew it.”

taglist (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi @ravenclawprincess33

Luke Castellan: @amortencjja @urmomsbananabread @kissingyourgrl @vikimontethegirlblogger @maryann2013 @stark-head @remussbitch @ever8ea @batmandabest @jennapancake @junos-web @tanifsblog @stupidtween 

[feyascorner]

Hear me out! Hear me out!

From Astrion's pov

A Tav who hates physical contact.

But then one night when it's pouring rain Tav comes to Astarion's tent feeling scared and ask if they can stay and then one thing leads to another and suddenly the two of them are cuddled together and Astarion is like "I thought you didn't like being touched" and Tav is like "Normally I'm scared people will hurt me when they touch me. But you are different. I feel safe with you. I trust you."

a/n. I’m going to collapse they’re everything to me AHHH THIS IS SUCH A CUTE PROMPT

Astarion, by nature and by the two-hundred years he’s spent as a vampire spawn, is a touchy person. It’s instinctual. A habit he can no longer break. It’s not even sexual, half the time. It’s simply how he conveys the words that he struggles to say, even if his vocabulary is filled to the brim with flowery verses of love straight from a romance novel.

But he understands the aversion for touch. Because he’s spent so much of his life hating the touch of strangers against his skin, he understands when you recoil when one of your companions attempt to hug you, or someone tries to shake your hand. Even if yours doesn’t stem from the similar situations where he had to set out on a victim under Cazador’s orders, he understands what it’s like to simply dislike it.

He doesn’t touch you, even if his hand itches to brush the stray strands of hair out of your face. Even as he has to yank his arm away when he feels it nearing yours as you walk alongside one another. Even as all he wants to do is drag you to the nearest corner and beg that you just hold his hand.

So when you appear at the flap of his tent, barely shielding yourself from the thunderous weather outside, asking if you can stay, his jaw physically unhinges.

He coughs, gathering himself quickly—or as quickly as he can manage.

“Come here, darling. You’ll freeze away with that mortal body of yours.”

He doesn’t even know how it happens. Well, he does, but he doesn’t really believe it’s happening. Only fifteen minutes later, you’re snuggled in under his blankets, pressed tightly against his side. He stares up at the ceiling on his back with wide eyes, slowly turning to look at you.

“Is this…alright?” He asks, and you peek out from one eye, adjusting your head on his arm. He can smell your shampoo from so close—lavender? No, maybe another blasted flower he doesn’t know the name of…

“What is?”

“This,” he waves his free arm between the two of you. “Don’t get me wrong, darling, you know I’m never against a cuddle, but I thought you—well—“

You stare at him expectantly.

“I thought you disliked physical contact,” he says, softer. “Not just with me, obviously. In general you seem rather opposed to the idea.”

The thunder rings from outside and your brows crease deeper. The light from a lightning strike illuminates your faces briefly before it’s a dim darkness again, with nothing but your own eyes able to adjust just enough to make out one another’s features. He’s sure he sees more than you do, considering his familiarity with the dark, and uses it to notice the way your lips purse at the intrusive sounds coming from outside.

He also notices you leaning closer to him, but hesitant. Your movements are unsure.

If he had a heart, it would’ve been pounding now, surely.

So he curls his arm closer, pushing you into his chest in the process. You tense briefly, but melt into the feeling, and he lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Are you afraid?”

Your voice is but a whisper. “Not anymore.”

There’s a comfortable silence hanging in the air for what seems like hours, but he might consider them to be just a few minutes. The rain pounds relentlessly against the tent, but here, even through the thin fabric, he doesn’t even notice it anymore.

“You’re different from everyone else,” you mumble, and he looks down at his chest to see your eyes halfway shut, clearly about to doze off. “I know you won’t hurt me…there’s no reason for me to avoid touching you.”

He blinks, and you bury half your face into the fabric of his shirt.

“I want you to touch me.”

For the first time in decades, Astarion finds himself at a loss for words. He’s said worse things, sure, but coming from you?…

After filing through a dozen possible responses, he settled on one, opening his mouth to respond, but your breath is already heavier. You’ve already left to a dream world he cannot follow you into, and you’ve left him in a state that he would’ve considered humiliating with anyone else.

He stares at the ceiling again, listening to the soft rhythm of your breathing.

“You can’t just say that and then fall asleep you fool…”

[vixstarria]

Seeing stars

Welp, I wrote more porn.

Astarion x F!Tav/F!Reader

18+, smut, porn with plot, porn with feelings, jealous Astarion, soft dom Astarion, dirty talk, fingering, PIV, elf ears and more! Humour, banter and fluff mixed in per usual. Tav failing several insight checks in the process.

I also poke fun at the in-game romance mechanics, and Wyll's Act 2 scene in particular.

This is the last time they have sex before the "I want us to be something real" conversation.

Approx. 2,900 words

AO3

“You won’t believe the ludicrous encounter I just had with Wyll.” 

You burst into Astarion’s tent. Well, it was ‘Astarion’s’ tent only notionally at this point. Yours still stood, but it now served solely as storage space for your assorted junk. You had effectively moved in with Astarion, having first coerced him into replacing the wooden plank and bloodstained rags he slept on with some sensible rugs and blankets. 

Astarion lounged half-naked on one of the bedrolls, reading something by candlelight. 

“Oh?” he looked up at you. “Do tell.” 

“First the massage you promised earlier,” you said sinking down onto the floor of the tent and stripping off most of your clothes. “My back is killing me after carrying everyone all day.” 

“Oh please...” he rolled his eyes. “I recall you nearly walked into your own cloud of daggers, again, and would have if I hadn’t pulled you away in time. And then you blasted Lae’zel off a cliff. It’s a wonder we haven’t kicked you out yet.” He shook his head. “And if you’re carrying anyone, I’m the one carrying you.” 

Still, he sat up as you laid down on your stomach.  

“Who do you think you’re fooling with this modesty, darling?” he murmured, noticing that you’d kept your underwear on. “Just lose it now,” he added, as he slid it off, leaving you completely naked, before he settled over you, his fingers commencing work on your shoulders. “So what happened with Wyll?” 

“I was making my way back here, and found him... performing some kind of jig by the campfire, pretending like he didn’t know I was there.” 

“The ‘Blade of Frontiers’, dancing alone in the middle of camp?” Astarion snickered. “Did you mock him? Please tell me you mocked him.”  

“Well... I was going to, but then he asked me to dance with him, very earnestly.” 

“That scoundrel...” he mused. “And let me guess - you agreed, didn’t you?” 

“Oh trust me, at that point it would have been more awkward not to dance with him, I had to play along.” 

Astarion scoffed, with a chuckle. 

“Do you always go along with whatever people want from you just because it would be too awkward to say no?” 

"I try not to – last time I did, I ended up with a vampire who won’t stop sucking me dry,” you deflected. “I figured there was no harm in indulging him. Besides, I don’t see you dancing with me. It was kind of nice,” you teased. 

“I hate dancing,” he said. 

“Right,” you said. “I’m sure you hate dancing just as much as you hate poetry, flowers, art, cats... What else?” 

“Children,” he answered. “I also can’t stand children.” 

“No, that one I could see being true,” you grinned. 

“So anyway, you two dolts pranced around the fire to the sound of crickets, then what?” 

“And then he tried to kiss me,” you admitted, with a sigh. 

Astarion’s hands paused for a moment before resuming their work, slightly harder than before. 

“Well look at you, receiving the Duke Ravengard’s heir’s attention. Moving up in the world, hmm?” 

“I didn’t let him.” 

He laughed. 

“Is there even a single person left in camp that hasn’t tried to get into your pants, darling?” 

You had to think for a moment.  

“Are we counting Volo?” 

“Sure.” 

“Then just Karlach and Withers.” 

“Gods, I fucking love Karlach,” he murmured. “Don’t tell her I said that.” 

“Why? Getting jealous all of a sudden?” 

Astarion was silent for a few moments. 

“I just don’t understand it,” he said. “You’re with me every night. I’m at your side every day. They see us. They hear us. Still, they don’t take me – or you and me – seriously. Tell me, is there something about me that screams: ‘Please, go ahead and take my lover for yourself. Come on in and snatch her right out from under me, I don’t mind’?”  

Perhaps you’d made a bad judgment call when you thought Astarion would find the absurdity of the situation humorous rather than offensive. Still, you had to bite your cheek to keep from laughing at the dramatics he added to the delivery of the last few lines that left his mouth. 

“Stop laughing,” he said.  

“I’m not laughing,” you laughed.  

“I can feel your back muscles twitching in your efforts.” 

“Well, they’re aware this all started as a joke. Perhaps they never realised that it’s long stopped being one?” you offered. 

Astarion’s hands had been moving lower and lower along your back. They had now reached your ass and continued to rub, stroke and squeeze, as you let out a soft groan. 

“That’s not my back, Astarion.” 

One of his hands kept squeezing an ass cheek, while the other dipped to stroke you between your legs. He gave a satisfied hum when two of his fingers entered you effortlessly. 

“Maybe if they could see how wet I can make you just by rubbing your back they’d reconsider how much of a joke this is,” he said, his voice low. He continued to pump his fingers in and out – you were almost embarrassed by the loud squelching sounds that came out of you. You moaned and tried to lift your hips higher, but your legs were encased between his thighs, pinned down on the bedroll. “Do you think you’d be reacting this way to young Ravengard, darling?” 

“Stop it,” you hissed. “You know I don’t want anyone but you.” 

“Stop?” he pulled his fingers out, to your dissatisfied whine. You looked back to see him studying your slick on his fingers. “I should go smear this on his face right now... The audacity to try to get his hands on what is not his.” He licked his fingers clean instead. He turned his attention back to you.  

“Maybe if you were more vocal about your devotion to me the others wouldn’t make these mistakes.” 

His hand returned between your legs, spreading your wetness and slipping lower to tease your clit.  

“I could be... encouraged... to be more vocal about it,” you breathed, trying to grind against his hand.  

“Yes... I should make you scream my name, so they all know who you belong to.” 

His fingers returned inside you, teasing you with shallow strokes.  

“You can try,” you taunted him. 

Astarion let out an indignant huff and shifted to spread your legs open with his knees, simultaneously placing a hand on your back to firmly hold you down. You expect to feel his cock enter you, but he continued to stroke you with his fingers, turning his hand to curl them downwards.  

“Is that a challenge, darling?” he asked, his voice dangerously low. “You should know better by now than to bet against me,” he said, continuing to flex his fingers inside you. 

It started off pleasant enough, but rapidly grew into... more. And more. You weren’t sure what he was doing but whatever it was, it was just about making you see stars. 

You sputtered as the new sensation started to take hold of your whole being.  

“Ast… what..”  

You couldn't manage anything coherent, as his fingers continued to dig into you, gradually picking up speed and pressure. You started to squirm to try to get away despite yourself, but he simply put more weight against the hand on your back, securely pinning you to the bedroll. 

“Always getting yourself into situations you're not prepared for…" he murmured. "You're not talking your way out of this one.”

His fingers were relentless. You were worried you really would scream and wake everyone in camp. All you could do was bite down on the pillow, hoping that it would muffle your drawn-out moans. 

“Let go, darling... I know you want to.” 

It's not so much that you let go – rather, all your decorum was ripped from you, as your muscles convulsed, the orgasm rolling through your entire body. You panted and shuddered, trying to keep quiet, your hands clutching desperately at the covers beneath you, trying to hold on to anything like your life depended on it. 

Once the feeling subsided, you came back to your senses to find Astarion hovering over you, kissing the back of your neck and shoulders, grazing them with his fangs, almost but not quite hard enough to draw blood. You felt his erection rubbing against your hip. 

“Has anyone fucked you like this before?” he whispered hoarsely into your ear, his breath ragged from his own arousal. “Tell me.” 

“No,” you gasped, trying to catch your own breath.  

“I thought so,” he whispered with a smile, kissing your neck before he sat back up. 

You turned back to look at him over your shoulder. He watched you with a self-satisfied grin, his fingers returning to stroke you lightly between your legs once more. 

“Do you want me to do it again?” he purred. 

A part of you wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face after what he just put you through. Another, much larger part, wanted nothing more than to submit yourself to whatever he would do to you.  

“Yes,” you admitted sheepishly. 

“Turn around...” he narrowed his eyes mischievously. “I want to see your face this time.” 

You flipped around onto your back, under his watchful gaze. His eyes never left yours as he stroked your slit, teasing your engorged clit with his thumb, before his fingers slipped back inside you. 

You found yourself mewling in anticipation before he really even started doing anything.  

“So eager,” he smirked. “So wanton...” 

He curled his fingers again, moving his whole hand to mercilessly claw into a sweet spot you didn’t even know existed inside you.  

You tried to relax into and accept this sensation, now that you were familiar with it. A growing pressure kept building at the bottom of your stomach. It was too much. It was entirely too much. You couldn’t take more of it. You couldn’t- 

“Let go, I’ve got you...” His whisper sounded so tender in sharp contrast to the depraved way he was handling your body. 

You sobbed as what you hoped was cum gushed out of you, your legs quivering.  

“Good girl”, Astarion laughed with glee, bending down to place a kiss on your lips, continuing to stroke you lightly, “Your body reacts so perfectly to me... Do you want more?” 

“You... I want you...” you groaned, biting his lip. 

“If that’s what my good girl wants,” he purred, discarding what was left of his clothes.  

You groaned as his cock entered you, rocking your hips against his, trying to find that feeling again. 

“So wet and needy for me...” he goaded you. “I’ve completely ruined you for anyone else, haven’t I?” 

He held absolutely nothing back as he fucked you, lewd insistent sounds of skin slapping on skin combined with your shared grunts and moans disturbing what was likely otherwise a silent night. 

“Anyone awake knows exactly what I’m doing to you right now,” he rasped, voice thick.  

Your walls clenched at the thought, making him shudder and sigh as well. 

“You like that thought, don’t you..? I know you do,” he continued. “So shameless...” 

Despite yourself, you whimpered, clenching again as another orgasm started threatening to overtake you. 

“That’s it... Come for me again,” he groaned. “Come for me, my love.” 

‘My love’..? Just a figure of speech, you thought. You’d thrown that phrase around, jokingly, but it’s never sounded so... raw. You wanted to hear it again. You wanted to keep hearing it.  

“Your what?” you gasped.  

He didn’t answer. Instead he caught your lips in a deep, devouring kiss, pinning your arms over your head.  

Your body gave in and you trembled under him, caught up in waves of pleasure again.  

He released your arms and eased his movements once you rode out your high, but kept kissing you, hungrily, unwilling to release your lips from his.  

Clearly, no further words of love would follow, you thought to yourself with a tinge of both relief and disappointment, deciding to let it go. 

“You’re so good to me,” you managed, breaking your lips from his. 

“Aren’t I just?” he groaned, speeding up again to chase his own release.  

You kissed your way up his jaw to his ear, pausing to nibble on his earlobe.  

You couldn’t see it, but a ditsy, open-mouthed smile started to play on his face. 

Astarion gasped with a sharp intake of breath as you continued further, running your tongue over the inside of the shell of his ear. 

“Oh sweet hells,” he sighed with pleasure, immediately grinding into your harder. 

You smiled as he tilted his head, just about pressing his ear against your lips. 

“Do you like that?” you whispered in his ear, running your tongue over it again, lifting your hands to run your fingers through his hair. You knew he did. You just wanted to hear him say it.  

“Yes... Don’t stop...” His words sounded like a desperate plea. 

You continued to gently nibble on the edge of his ear, soft moans escaping you from his movements. 

“That’s it, take what’s yours” you groaned, as his hips crashed into yours harder. 

His breathing and movements were becoming more and more frantic.  

“Astarion...” you whispered, grazing the shell of his ear with your lips. 

He let out an uncharacteristic whimper, all his usual composure slipping from him, as he bucked his hips, fucking you with quick, shallow thrusts.  

“My sweet...” you breathed against his ear. 

He came completely undone, spilling into you with forceful, jagged thrusts, before finally stilling. His whole body seemed to melt into yours as he stayed on top of you, trying to regain his breath. 

You wrapped your legs around his hips, not wanting to let go of him yet, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to lift himself from you either. Instead he trailed light, tender kisses from your neck up to your lips.  

You delicately traced the contours of Astarion’s face with your fingertips, running them from his cheekbone down to his jaw, as he leaned into your caress, gazing into your eyes.  

Astarion parted his lips slightly, as though to say something, only to seal them again. He tilted his head to kiss your knuckles as your fingers gradually made their way back up, to run through his hair. Eventually he spoke. 

“You would really choose me over the more... blatantly obvious options you have at your disposal here?” he asked quietly.  

“Haven’t I made that abundantly clear already..?” 

“Well of course you have – no one else is this good,” he said with a tired smirk. 

“I’m not talking about the...” you blinked. “You know I’m not with you just for the sex, right..?” you frowned, looking into his eyes. 

He looked away, slipping out of you and moving to lie down next to you.  

“Is that so?” he said softly.  

You found yourself suddenly feeling rattled. Was he simply fishing for compliments again, or had you been utterly oblivious to just how deep his insecurities ran this whole time..? 

“You have a wealth of other qualities that I... enjoy and appreciate,” you said, somewhat lamely.  

Astarion propped his head up on his hand and raised an eyebrow at you quizzically. There was a hint of vulnerability in his eyes despite his outward nonchalance.  

Oh for fuck’s sake, you thought. I’m not ready for any serious conversations now, especially not with cum running down my thighs.  

You turned away to grab something to wipe yourself down with. 

“A gentleman would clean up his own mess, by the way. Not one of your strong points. But you do have some virtues that make up for it. For instance... I can leave cheese unattended around you, knowing you won’t eat it.” 

Astarion went to pinch the bridge of his nose, sighing.  

“You’re a treasure trove of useless information,” you continued. “But unlike some of our companions you usually keep it to yourself.” A hint of a smile played on his lips at that.  

“Your hand feels nice and cold on my forehead when I have a headache.” You laid back down next to him, mirroring the way he was lying. 

“You always smell nice, especially for a dead guy. You never hog the mirror.”   

“What about my hair, won’t you mention that?” he smiled. 

“No, fuck your hair, it makes mine look awful in comparison.”  

He chuckled at that. 

“I do rather adore the garnet puppy eyes though,” you murmured. “What else... You make me laugh, and, more importantly, I make you laugh – which is great for my ego,” you continued.  

“As long as you understand that I’m usually laughing at you,” he countered. 

“Prick... Then there’s the fact you’ve saved my life four times.”  

“Seven,” he said quietly, looking into your eyes.  

“Five.”  

“It’s seven, dear, I counted.” 

“Whatever. When it comes to battle, you’re silent but deadly,” you said. “Like a-” 

Astarion’s hand covered your mouth.  

“Do not finish that thought, darling.” 

You grinned from behind his palm.  

“I think we can be done with this conversation,” he said.  

“Wait, wait, one more...” you laughed. “You’re eccentric, unpredictable, often irrational. I never know what’s going to come out of your mouth.”  

You smiled as Astarion groaned dramatically, covering his face with one hand.  

“Knowing I’ll get to spend another day in your mad company gives me a reason to get up in the morning,” you added, softly. 

“Come here, you sweet fool,” he whispered, drawing you against him.  

You hugged him tightly. It took so long for him to start initiating these embraces that wouldn’t lead to sex... You relished each one.  

Tomorrow, Astarion thought to himself, unbeknown to you. I have to tell her tomorrow.  

~~~~~

Follow up bonus scene

This work is part of a series - here is the master list

Next in series - Confession

AO3

Tags: @littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tallymonster @tragedybunny @spunky-89

@spacebarbarianweird @kittenintheden - hey, I heard you like elf ears

[moonstruckme]

bodyguard!james when you have a panic attack 🫣

Ty for requesting!

cw: panic attack

bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

James draws closer to you. The older, stern-looking woman you’re talking to glances at him. It’s James’ job to blend in with the wallpaper, but he’s shirking those duties now for one more important. 

You follow the woman’s gaze, noticing him behind you. “Oh, hi.” You smile at him. It’s convincing, a good attempt at hiding how you’re feeling, but James knows you well. “I’m sorry, this is James. James, Linda.” 

“Pleasure to meet you.” James gives Linda a smile of his own. He knows who she is of course, everyone here tonight was pre-vetted by his team and he’s memorized her face as one of the safe ones. He shakes her hand, settling the other lightly on your back. “Sorry to steal her away, but” —James looks to you— “could I talk to you for a minute?” 

You give Linda an anxious glance, and he presses his hand more firmly to your back. A cue.

“Of course.” Your smile blooms again, this one apologetic. They’re all lovely, but James prefers the genuine ones. You say to Linda, “I’ll find you later, okay?” 

“Yes, please.” Linda gives your shoulder a fond squeeze, departing the conversation politely as James starts to guide you away. 

There’s a smaller room not far from you, usually connected to this main one but curtained off for the event. No one notices you slip through the curtain. Your quickening breaths are ten times more obvious in the quieter space. 

“It’s okay.” James supports you the rest of the way to the couch on the other side of the room. You sink down onto it on shaky legs. “You’re fine, angel.” 

You don’t move once you’re sitting, so he maneuvers your body for you, turning you sideways and bringing your feet up onto the couch so you can hug your knees the way you like to. Taking care of you is James’ job, but he thinks he would do it either way. He can’t imagine a life in which he isn’t looking after you. He unzips the back of your dress and starts taking off your shoes. These straps always give him trouble; he doesn’t know how you manage them.

You make a low, pained sound. James feels it in the back of his throat. “James—" 

“I’m not undressing you for everyone to see,” he says lightly. “Only loosening things so you can breathe. It’s just us here, yeah?” 

You nod, closing your eyes. Your breaths sound like they hurt. James doesn’t know what set you off, but these attacks are something you’ve dealt with before. He has a sense of what you need. 

“Sweetheart.” James finally succeeds in getting your shoes off. He clasps his hands over yours firmly, all piled atop your knees. “Just take a breath. One good breath.” 

You try, he sees you trying. But it seems like the air won’t settle in your lungs. Your eyes dip just south of his chin, as though you can’t stand to look at him while they grow distant and shimmery. 

“Good,” James praises you anyway. “You’ve got it, lovely, you’re okay. I know it’s hard right now, but can you do something for me? Tell me five things you can see.” 

You don’t want to. You never do, it’s clearly a lot of work to focus in this state, but eventually James coaxes you into identifying five things in the room. One of them is the earpiece he uses to communicate with the rest of the security team, which makes him smile. 

“I don’t usually call it my spiral cord thing,” he jokes, “but good job. Let’s do four things you can hear, yeah?” 

You get to three before you start crying. James’ heart aches. He hates to see you cry, but sometimes it does help you. You’re going to be upset about your makeup after, though. You fold your face into your knees, and he reaches over you to rub your back. 

“I know.” Your skin is warm beneath his touch, the whole of you shaking. “I know it doesn’t feel like it’s getting better, but it is. You’re doing a great job.” 

“I can’t—“

“Hey, you can. You can, sweetheart. You’re doing it already, you just can’t tell yet. Here, I have something for you.” James changes tactics, fishing in his pocket. He holds a bottle of lavender oil near your face. “Smell this.” 

You pick your head up, looking at the bottle before sniffing tentatively. 

“More than that,” he encourages. “Breathe it in. It’ll help.” 

You take the best inhale you can. Your nose runs and sweat glistens at your hairline, but you try for him. James praises you amply, taking deep breaths for you to copy. He isn’t sure if you notice him doing it, but eventually yours start to match his, slowing and lengthening until you’re getting true lungfuls of the lavender scent. 

James keeps it by your nose. With his other hand, he rubs your calf. 

“You’re okay,” he sighs. “How do you feel now, lovely?” 

“Okay.” Your voice still shakes, but now more with aftershocks than true adrenaline. “Sorry, I don’t know why that happened.” 

“You don’t have to know.” James pinches your nose clean, something in his stomach tightening when you shy. “I’m sorry it happened, too, but it’s not your fault.” 

“I should…” You take a big breath. James frowns and rubs your calf again. “I should go back out.” 

He makes a soft, reprimanding sound. “Not yet. Give yourself a few minutes. You need a break. They’ll all be okay without you for a bit.” 

Your eyes go to the curtain separating you from the main room. You look at it as though you can see right through and every guest at this event is standing on the other side, tapping their feet and muttering about where you’ve gone. 

“Take a break,” James says again. “You thought you were dying a minute ago.” 

“I really did,” you admit. “I thought it wouldn’t feel so much like that after the first time.” 

James hates to see you upset. He presses a kiss to the center of your forehead and puts the oil away. Squeezes your knees in his hands. “Are you going to be okay if I go out there for a minute? I just need to grab a couple of things.” 

You nod but watch his hands ruefully as he stands and they fall away from you. “What do you need?”

“Napkins, mostly.” He gives you a sorry smile. “Obviously you look beautiful no matter what, but I think you’re going to want to clean your face up.” 

“Oh, god.” You touch your fingers underneath your eye, feeling the tackiness of smudged makeup. “Thank you.” 

“Stay right there,” James warns. “If you’re doing anything other than breathing when I get back here, we’re going straight home.” 

You roll your eyes good naturedly. James feels relieved you’re feeling well enough to do it. “You’re the boss.”  

“I’m in charge of your safety,” he says. “So, yeah, I am the boss right now. Stay right there.” 

You hold your palms up in a show of surrender. James is happy to report that as he goes out the curtain, there’s a smile teasing your lips.

[nekomanager]

WHAT GOES AROUND COMES AROUND! ♡

- ONE of TWO -

ATSUMU's blood boils hot for the MSBY Jackal's Road Manager. Your ignorance towards him riles him up irresistibly and he's equally determined to get on your nerves. [Part TWO here!]

🔖 f!reader, pwp, hate to horny to lovers, fingerfcking, squrting, blowjob, 69, pussyeating

Woke up to an amazing breakfast, got a smooth commute to the gym and hit a perfect serve—Atsumu's day was going well, that’s until he saw you.  

His brows automatically knitted together. There you were, walking in your denim pants and hoodie that made you look like a big sack. It’s not as if you were hiding something fantastic underneath and most especially, it’s not as if he’s even curious to undress and unravel you.  

A vexed smirk appeared on his face. Testosterone just surged through him whenever he saw you, and it’s probably because you really piss him off.

You’re MSBY Jackal’s Road Manager for a year now. You assist them with their needs and make sure that they’re well taken care of for every game. You’re attentive, hands-on and very nurturing with the team, except for Atsumu. Yeah, that’s what he thought.  

You laugh with Bokuto, joke around with Shoyo, and speak sweetly to Omi Omi, but you were very hostile with him. You don’t make eye contact, and you barely speak around him. All the interactions you’ve had with Atsumu are because he’s tried to get a reaction from you by riling you up and you coldly ignoring him.  

Now, you’re rushing to the pantry, greeting everyone else except him. Pissed, Atsumu followed you with a plan to ruin your day with his usual dramatic mouth.  

Opening the door, he saw you watching the percolator and waiting for the water to boil.  

“I see...tea, huh? For Omi again?” he asks with an annoyed tone.  

You just looked at him without saying a word then instantly retrieved your gaze back to the percolator.  

Yes, he knew he had quite a reputation with the ladies. Not his fault though, he couldn’t help being so damn attractive. His face and abs are enough proof. However, everytime you’re giving him that snobby dismissive stare, he feels like he’s just a player with nothing good to do. It’s making him to wanna prove you wrong by letting you experience how fucking with him feels so good it’s a gift. Also, maybe he just needed to get you out of his system. 

Tsumu clicked his tongue. “Won’t ya even ask me if I want one too?” 

You sighed and offered without sparing him a glance, “Okay. Tsumu, would you want one?” 

“Forget about it. I’ve long accepted yer favoritism.” 

You opened the packet of tea that rested on the table. “I’m not having any of that now.” The water boiled and you poured some of it in the papercup you prepared. 

Atsumu looked extra handsome today. He’s not wearing the Jackals’ uniform but that of the Olympics’. Anything looked good on him though that’s why you could never look his way. It’s much of a dead giveaway how many hearts would fly to your eyes once you’d lay them upon him. The smallest of interactions you had with him were you trying to survive your nervousness—the nerves you got whenever he’s around.  

You knew he’d never take an interest in you, so you were content with what you both have. Just being able to care for him through the team was enough.  

With your eyes glued on the cup in your hands, you made your way to the exit, but Tsumu blocked your way with his body.  

“Uh-uh not a chance, woman,” he teased and demanded, “Not until you look at me.” 

You gulped. Oh, god no.  

“Y/N” His name on his lips made you voluntarily glance up.  

Your eyes were dewy innocent, and he’s instantly pulled in. His throat ran dry. You were so breathtaking looking up at him like that his dick twitched.  His breath and every inch of his patience were running thin. All he wanted to do now was slam your body against the nearest wall and show you how good he could make you feel.  

The nerves kicked in again and you reflexively stepped sidewards in an attempt to get past him, but he beat you to it. You went for the other side, and he still managed to stop you.  

“Ya can’t run away from me,” he said with a challenge blazing through his eyes.  

You still stepped away, but he took hold of your wrist, causing the hot tea to spill over him.  

“Aw–!” he flinched and panicked.  

“T-Tsumu!” you worried, hurriedly putting down the cup at the nearest counter. You grabbed his wrist and took him away. “The clinic’s just next door.” 

You looked around and the doctor’s not in. “Does it hurt?” you asked. “Well, there’s got to be a Neosporin here somewhere.”  

Tsumu sat in one of the curtain-covered beds just watching you through the gap. A certain warm feeling was rising inside the pit of his stomach. This was the most care you’ve shown him so far and there’s something so special and rewarding about it. It’s a feeling he hadn’t felt with anyone else. 

“Oh, here it is!” you cheered, seeing the tube. You went inside the curtain and turned to him but instantly realized what you were about to ask him to do.  

Tsumu grinned, cheekily. “Would ya like me to lift my shirt?” he asked, teasing you a bit. 

You were just looking away not saying a word, so he did the honors.  

Your breath got caught in your throat at the sight of his muscular torso. You dry gulped and sat beside him.  

“Can- C-Can I?” you asked, still too shy to look at him. Goodness, just the reality of touching him in one of his sexiest places was just too hard to believe. Sparks flew all throughout your body and they subsided between your legs.  

With an ample amount of the burn cream, you dabbed your fingers over his abs. He felt sturdy to touch and you couldn’t help but squeeze your legs together as the funny feeling started to get stronger.  

Tsumu’s breath hitched. Your light touches against his skin were making him feel some typ’a way. He was heaving, trying to control his urges but failed to do so. His crotch already built a tent, a huge one in a hot second and you didn’t miss it. Your eyes immediately took in his breathless lustful expression while he pinned your equally needy gaze. Your breathing started to match his and your chests both rose and fell rampantly.  

Tsumu closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. “Fuck!” he cursed before cupping your cheeks and devouring your lips in a starving kiss. He’d been wanting to do this for a long time. He’d been wanting to ravage your mouth like this everytime you’d throw some sassy remarks back at him. His lips were wild against yours and he smiled through it. You liked it too. You liked him too. You’re just as needy as him.  

He pulled away just to make sure you’re on the same page. “I thought you hate me.” 

“Tsumu...” you murmured under your breath. You had no idea what he was talking about. 

“Push me away now or I'll mess you up so good if ya don’t,” he whispered against your lips sliding his tongue across your lips which made you open your mouth.  

Oh god. You’re not pushing him away at all and that made him lose all control. His tongue entered your mouth, roaming, exploring, playing.  

How could you even run away now when you’re so weak for him? All this time, you’re just weak for him. Too weak to even catch a glance. Now, his mouth was claiming you, both of your saliva was getting mixed up in your mouth.  

His hands couldn’t stop touching all over you until he began to travel under your pants. The pad of his fingers massaging your pussy right where your clit was. You squirmed in his touch, making you crave more of him. “Tsumu~!” 

“Mhmnn-” his dick got harder. Who knew you could moan so sexily like that? He couldn’t stop himself from grunting as he breathed so hard. “Shit! Y/N...” He was panicking and all over the place as he pulled your pants and panties down in one go. “Oh shit...oh shit...oh shit...” Tsumu hissed upon seeing your yummy pussy. You’re making him wanna put his mouth all over you.  

“Y/N, c’mere,” he said with hands on both side of your hips, dragging your lower body up on his face as he lay down on his back.  

“This- This is! Atsumhm- ahhh--!” Your head tilted back as soon as his tongue met your pussy. With his thumbs parting your lips, he circled, sipped and drank your juices. “Mhmm...Tsumuuu...” 

“So yummy, so beautiful...” he said with a mouthful of you. As if you’re a fruit, he had to suck you so good while his tongue swiped languidly along your clit. Your fluid dripped at the side of his face as he ate you like he couldn’t get enough. You’re just so damn delicious he just wanted to bury his face and feed himself with your pussy forever.  

You just kept on moaning and clenching your jaw in pleasure. Your face falling straight to his crotch. Oh god, he’s so hard. You could feel him poking your nose. With every bit of strength and courage, you freed his desperate and erected cock.  

Goodness…he felt so hot against your hand and you pumped his length just as hard as he already was. “Oh fuck, yer so good~” he moaned against your dripping cunt.  

His reaction encouraged you, taking in your lips around the tip and swirling your tongue around it in the manner he was doing to your pussy. Tsumu was girthy and long. A part of you wondered how he’d fit inside you.  

You bobbed your head taking him in your mouth as deep as you could, while your hand kept doing its best, stroking him up and down.  

“Y/N, you...” he whimpered. Not allowing you to defeat him, he inserted two of his fingers inside you, fingering your hole real fast. “Fuck, fuck you, fuck you...” Your arousal was spraying all over his face. His other hand slapped your ass cheek and squeezed it tight as he ruthlessly pumped you.  

Your mouth let go of him and was now replaced with endless whines, while his fingers filled you. Your legs shook, body trembled as you came around him. His mouth quick on your pussy, drinking you down as you squirt.  

“Fuckin’ tasty,” he said, getting himself up until he’s kneeling behind you. “We’re just gettin’ started.” 

His hands were on your hips as he slid his length in between your legs but not inside of you just yet. He grazes his cock across the lips of your pussy before aligning the tip along your entrance.  

Slowly, he eased himself in. “Sh– goddammit!” Oooh...you feel so good. Your walls were so mushy you’re caving in on him. He’s so close to cumming. 

Your lips and body trembled. He’s so big, his cock stretched you out in ways unimaginable. 

He started moving his hips. His pace was controlled like he was being careful or else he’d cum right away.  

“Y/N, Y/N, fuck...Who knew...who knew you’d feel this good...” he chanted while plowed you with forceful jerks. “Gah-- yer makin’ me crazy-” His strokes were now getting faster and his grip on your hips tighter. He didn’t want this to end so fast but your pussy was eating his cock up that he kept on wanting more more more—! 

“Tsumu, Tsumu, I’m gonnahh...I’m gonna cum again,” you moaned, your fists clenching the sheets. “I-I’m coming!” 

“Cum...give it to me, cum!” he hissed through gritted teeth until the door opened. 

“Tsumu, are you here?” Bokuto asked, footsteps nearing where you were.  

“Stop!” Tsumu groaned, slamming hard against your pussy to finally meet his release. “Yes! Yes! I’m coming! Just- in...a...bit- ugh-!” He popped out his cock, busting his nut all over your ass while you bit your own climax down, careful not to make any noise when the tremors ran across your head and body.  

Your body caved into the bed when drowsiness hit you and your eyes triggered to close. Tsumu sat down beside you, admiring how pretty you looked like all soiled and messed up because of him. His dick was getting excited for another round. He pulled up the blanket to cover you up, turning away from temptation.  He leaned down close as if he was about to kiss you until Bokuto interrupted once more. 

“Tsumu!” the silver-haired called out, finally sliding the curtain. “Hurry up! Wait- Is that Y/N? Is she alright?” 

Tsumu stood up. “She got a li’l under the weather, so I watched over her.” 

Your eyes forced open, trying to get a good glimpse of Tsumu before he goes. He stole another glance at you, leaving you with a promise that sounded more like a warning, “Ain’t done with you yet.” 

@pixelcafe-network

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Rafehub.com - Rafe Cameron Plink Library

+18 Minor DNI

Pornstar!Rafe Cameron - P🔗 Library

Welcome to RafeHub.com

This p!link library was made with my lover @rafesthroatbaby

if you love pornstar!Rafe check out the sexy au created by our baby @starkeyisthelastname

The titles were “written by Rafe” to give it a typical porn-esque vibe. The white text is a little backstory 💋

⭐️ Back shots 💦💦💦 🍑Your first video with Rafe

⭐️ stretching u like only i can let me ruin you 4 everyone else

⭐️ i love teasing what’s mine let me play with your pussy while daddy gets you ready for his cock Rafe easing you into it after making you sore from your last shoot

⭐️ Am i too rough? I’m sorry. I’ll take it nice n easy 4 you baby. I’m gonna try to make it all fit i promise. 🤡 cum back for part 2 where i fuck this slut into the mattress

⭐️ two girls one rafe 😈 After a night of partying, you and Rafe bring another actress back to his house to play

⭐️ they love to share me i guess i’ll keep them both

⭐️ Making a mess on the couch. How many times do i make her squirt?? 😜 Rafe’s been stalking your videos since. He didn’t know you could squirt. Now he’s desperate to make you squirt multiple times on camera.

⭐️ Messy girl ❤️‍🔥 gonna need a shower after this shit 🥵

⭐️ Let The Pussy Destroyer satisfy your breeding kink ♥️ The only actress Rafe finishes in unprotected is you. He can’t help but whisper the dirtiest shit in your ear about how he’s gonna end your career because he fucked a baby into you. But what he gets off on the most is how he’ll never have to watch you fuck anyone else again.

⭐️ daddy dicking her ⬇️

⭐️ Let me destroy you - size kink king 🍆 she’s takin this dick like a champ Rafe is clearly obsessed with you and his followers are getting jealous

⭐️ I love using your tight pussy such a perfect fucktoy for me

⭐ What Rafe sends to you after you send him your nudes 📸

⭐️ had to sneak away from her boyfriend to get fucked by daddy. Do you think he’s doin this shit like me?? 😂Shooting with Rafe after he tells you that you can fuck whoever… You mean nothing to him. He didn’t realize how wrong he was ‘til it happened. His jealousy also went into overdrive after he found out that the other actor was an ex of yours. Of course he keeps that shit to himself.

⭐️ you just don’t stop cummin do you?

⭐ mine 📸 Rafe’s petty-ass posting this GIF online and sending it to your ex

⭐️ cum give daddy a hand and stroke me til I’m emptyDenying Rafe pussy because he won’t use his words and tell you how he feels when you can tell he’s annoyed

⭐ covering her with my load

⭐️ atta girl swallow daddy’s dick

⭐️ not gonna lie this chick fucked me look at her creamin on my big dick Fucking Rafe on camera after rumors circulate about him and another mattress actress. He put in an extra effort after getting his feelings hurt and now he regrets it completely

⭐️ she says she hates me… turns out she just needed some good dick

⭐️ she loves gettin slapped and fucked dumb Getting fucked rough after ignoring Rafe’s calls

⭐️ keep screaming for me. You think I’m gonna stop? 😂

⭐️ Babygirl couldn’t wait until the movie ended so i fucked her like the impatient slut she is Rafe invites you over for a movie. When you ask him if it’s a date he brushes you off because he’s too scared to get attached. “Nah, princess. We’re just hanging out. Thought we could relax and shoot some shit when we got bored.”

⭐️ my little anal queen’s so good 💦🍑 clenching and tightening around my dick

⭐️ 🩷My tongue and fingers are magic princess lay back and let daddy Rafe make you feel like a pretty little slut🩷 First video after Rafe finally tells you how he feels

⭐️ Trying new angles while I stretch out that perfect pussy 💯

⭐️ she came 2 play 🥵 little promo 4 you filthy slut. comment below it u want some more ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️ You both love money and sex. You don’t want to stop shooting, so you make a couples OnlyFans account instead, putting out a few promos on Twitter

⭐️ 🎀little miss innocent before she met me🎀

⭐️ U got me stroking my shit… can’t stop thinking about you Leaving Rafe for the weekend while you go on vacation with your friends. He’s so pussy whipped you have him playing with himself

⭐ Her 🤍📸 Rafe posting and watching some softer GIFs when you’re gone because he misses his babygirl

⭐️ Had to pull over cause she looked too fuckin good Rafe picking you up from the airport and he couldn’t even wait til you got home

⭐️ she loves that cameron cum 👑 think she’s the one

⭐️ think she likes her new gift ⛓️‍💥😈 Shooting content for your OnlyFans - switching it up with cuffs and masks

⭐️ heard you sluts liked masks

⭐️ look at you all tied up with your legs wide open and your dripping wet pussy throbbing waiting for some cameron cock

⭐️ Be a good girl and cum with Daddy while he plays with your toys 😈

Like, reblog, and comment to show us some love 🤍 @rafesthroatbaby inbox is open for any love you want to send her way as well!!

my masterlist 🔮

[mywritersmind]

hey girl! are you writing for franco atm??? if so I wanted to see if you could write smth like fluff or reader and franco get in a fight maybe bcs of the time zones and races and he surprises her one night before race weekend like he catches a flight to see her but she still won’t budge on talking to him xxx

YELL AND FLY - FC43

listen up : just arguing but ending in comfort. thanks for the request this lowk almost made me cry

word count : 877

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I can hear him pacing, the sounds of drilling and tires in the background, “I’m just tired, Franco.” We’ve been like this for an hour, I keep hearing him swear in spanish and making sure everyone leaves him alone.

“You don’t think I am?” he groans as someone tries to speak to him again, “Fuck, obviously I’m tired! You’re not the one working every weekend.”

I scoff and sit up in my bed, the sun not even up yet, “That's unfair and you know it, Franco! I work! I work even more when you’re away!” I say sarcastically, “But I'm sorry that you have to do the job you chose and you love!”

I shake my head as he responds, “I didn’t mean that, love.”

“Yes you did. And that’s fine but don’t push your anger onto me. You always do shit like this.”

“Like what?” His voice raises.

I run my hand into my hair, “You don’t think I support you.”

“Well it’s hard to think that when you’re not here supporting me.” I want to hit him, then myself. How could he think that? After I said I wanted to be there but couldn’t because I was fucking working. He takes it back quickly, “I’m sorry i’m just overwhelmed-”

“Franco. I’m tired.” Tired of this. Tired of waking up so early and staying up late for a ten minute call where we just fight, “we should talk about this later.”

He still sounds angry, “I’m busy all day.”

I stay silent. What am I supposed to say? Cry and tell him to not be? I have no choice but to nod.

“Good luck.”

He sighs, I hear the ruffling of his hair, “I’m sorry. I wish you were here.”

“Me too.” He’s mad at me and I’m mad at him. I’ve been with Franco long before his F1 debut, but us yelling over the phone every weekend isn’t something I expected with the job.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I watched his race, texted him, and logged off social media for the day. He’s off to Mexico but I just can’t leave right now. I’m sitting in the kitchen, eating my cereal and leaning over the counter while listening to Taylor Swift.

There’s a knock at the door, I groan. I’m in the same pajamas as two days ago and my hair is in the messiest bun I've seen in a while.

When I open the door, my jaw actually drops.

“Franco?” I poke him as if I think he’s some figment of my imagination. Have I really gone that crazy that I'm imagining my boyfriend at my door?

“Hi, love.” He’s real. He walks in, shutting the door softly. I want to cry as he slips his arms around me, “I’m so sorry.”

His voice washes over me and I hug him tighter, breathing him in and realizing how much I missed how he smells.

“I’m mad at you.” It comes out as a whisper, my voice broken and sad.

“You can be.” I pull back a bit, his hands in my hair, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Why are you here?” I cross my arms, stepping back.

Franco looks nervous, a bag by his side, “I wanted to see you. I thought you wanted that too…”

“Of course I did!” I sigh dramatically.

He smiles at my anger, “So, I'm here for you.”

I shake my head, going to the kitchen and cleaning up my breakfast. I don’t know how to feel. I’m so happy he’s here. But then what? He’ll just leave again and I’ll watch two second clips of him on the TV?

He follows me into the kitchen, “Love… Let me do it.” I let him because I hate the dishes.

I sit on the counter, watching him gently washing the bowl with his sleeves rolled up. He drys his hands, then looks up at me.

“I’m sorry for being mad.” I look at the floor but he steps in between my legs so I look at him, “It’s just hard.”

“It’s hard for me too. I want you there all the time but I'm so proud of you!” he puts his hands on my outer thighs, “Time Zones suck.”

I laugh, wiping my eyes from the tears that spill down my face, “I’m proud of you too. Shit, you’re so amazing. I hate working.”

“Quit.” He says it so fast.

“Franco!” I swat at his arm, letting out a sort of sob laugh.

“Okay, you can quit when I get a full time seat.” I laugh as he smiles softly up at me, “I know it’s rough right now.”

“We can work through it. We’re us.” His thumbs smooth over my cheeks.

He nods, “We’re us.”

“How long are you here for?”

He frowns, “I leave tomorrow night.” I frown with him, “But I'm here now.”

I sigh, knowing he’s right. I look up at my boyfriend, his hands on me. I know I need to live in the moment now.

I kiss him softly and he pulls me into another hug, his arms around my waist, “I love you.”

I run my hands through his hair, “I love you too. We can do this.”