#thin-film services

[bluewave-semi]

Pulsed laser deposition services for high-precision thin-film applications

Pulsed laser deposition services offer cutting-edge solutions for creating high-quality thin films with superior control over thickness and composition. Using high-energy laser pulses, this method efficiently ablates target materials and deposits them onto substrates, ensuring uniformity and purity. Ideal for semiconductors, optics, and advanced material research, pulsed laser deposition supports a wide range of materials, including oxides, metals, and superconductors. With precise parameter control, these services deliver reliable performance for both experimental and industrial-scale applications, meeting the demands of innovative technologies.

[euclidrefinishinginc]

Characteristics And Applications Of Dry Film Coatings

Dry film coatings have emerged as a pivotal technology in various industries, offering a multitude of benefits ranging from enhanced durability to improved performance. In this comprehensive guide, we delve into the characteristics and applications of solid dry film coatings, shedding light on their diverse uses and advantages across different sectors.

Understanding Dry Film Coatings

Dry film coatings, also known as solid film lubricants or thin film PVD coatings, are protective layers applied to surfaces to enhance their properties. These coatings typically consist of a solid lubricant dispersed in a binder matrix, which is then applied to substrates through processes such as spraying, dipping, or brushing.

One of the key characteristics of dry film coatings is their ability to provide lubrication without the need for liquid lubricants. This not only reduces maintenance requirements but also eliminates the risk of contamination and ensures consistent performance in challenging environments.

Characteristics of Dry Film Coatings

1. High Durability: Dry film coatings exhibit exceptional durability, withstanding harsh conditions such as high temperatures, corrosive chemicals, and mechanical wear.

2. Low Friction: These coatings offer low friction properties, reducing frictional losses and improving efficiency in moving components.

3. Chemical Resistance: Dry film coatings provide excellent resistance to chemicals, making them suitable for applications where exposure to corrosive substances is common.

4. Temperature Stability: They maintain their performance characteristics over a wide range of temperatures, from extreme cold to elevated heat, ensuring reliability in diverse operating conditions.

5. Adhesion: Dry film coatings adhere strongly to substrates, forming a robust bond that enhances longevity and prevents delamination.

Also read for, Uncover the Benefits of Thin Film PVD Coating for Electronics

Applications of Dry Film Coatings

Dry film coatings find extensive applications across various industries, owing to their versatile properties and numerous benefits. Some common applications include:

1. Aerospace Industry

In the aerospace sector, dry film coatings are used to lubricate critical components such as bearings, gears, and actuator systems. Their ability to withstand high temperatures and extreme conditions makes them ideal for aircraft and spacecraft applications.

2. Automotive Industry

In automotive manufacturing, dry film coatings are applied to engine components, transmission parts, and chassis components to reduce friction, improve fuel efficiency, and enhance durability. They play a crucial role in extending the lifespan of automotive components and reducing maintenance costs.

3. Industrial Machinery

Dry film coatings are widely used in industrial machinery, where they provide lubrication and protection to moving parts, reducing wear and minimizing downtime. They are employed in applications such as pumps, valves, bearings, and gears, enhancing the reliability and performance of machinery.

4. Medical Devices

In the medical field, dry film coatings are utilized in surgical instruments, medical implants, and diagnostic equipment to reduce friction and prevent biofouling. Their biocompatibility and corrosion resistance make them suitable for medical applications requiring precision and reliability.

5. Electronics Industry

In the electronics industry, dry film coatings are applied to electronic components and circuit boards to improve conductivity, prevent corrosion, and enhance reliability. They offer protection against environmental factors such as moisture, dust, and chemicals, ensuring the longevity of electronic devices.

Conclusion

Dry film coatings represent a cutting-edge technology with diverse applications across multiple industries. With their exceptional durability, low friction properties, and chemical resistance, these coatings play a crucial role in enhancing the performance, reliability, and longevity of various components and systems.

To learn more about how dry film coatings can benefit your business or project, contact us at Euclid Refinishing INC today.

ORIGINAL SOURCE, https://bit.ly/4cD3vFY

[surftechinc]

Types Of Thin Film Coatings: Unveiling the Excellence of PVD Coating Services

Thin film coatings have become integral in enhancing the durability and performance of various materials, and among the top players in this domain are the renowned PVD coating services. At SurfTech INC, we take pride in offering state-of-the-art solutions that redefine the standards of excellence.

Experience the difference with PVD coating services. For inquiries and consultations, contact us at +1-(440)-275-3356 or visit our website at www.ercsurftech.com.

[taknikinc]

Agitated Thin Film Dryer (ATFD)

[karmaphone]

u ever think abt chronic wasting disease (& other prion diseases) and get fucked up

[nasa]

Athletes Go for the Gold with NASA Spinoffs

NASA technology tends to find its way into the sporting world more often than you’d expect. Fitness is important to the space program because astronauts must undergo the extreme g-forces of getting into space and endure the long-term effects of weightlessness on the human body. The agency’s engineering expertise also means that items like shoes and swimsuits can be improved with NASA know-how.

As the 2024 Olympics are in full swing in Paris, here are some of the many NASA-derived technologies that have helped competitive athletes train for the games and made sure they’re properly equipped to win.

The LZR Racer reduces skin friction drag by covering more skin than traditional swimsuits. Multiple pieces of the water-resistant and extremely lightweight LZR Pulse fabric connect at ultrasonically welded seams and incorporate extremely low-profile zippers to keep viscous drag to a minimum.

Swimsuits That Don’t Drag

When the swimsuit manufacturer Speedo wanted its LZR Racer suit to have as little drag as possible, the company turned to the experts at Langley Research Center to test its materials and design. The end result was that the new suit reduced drag by 24 percent compared to the prior generation of Speedo racing suit and broke 13 world records in 2008. While the original LZR Racer is no longer used in competition due to the advantage it gave wearers, its legacy lives on in derivatives still produced to this day.

Trilion Quality Systems worked with NASA’s Glenn Research Center to adapt existing stereo photogrammetry software to work with high-speed cameras. Now the company sells the package widely, and it is used to analyze stress and strain in everything from knee implants to running shoes and more.

High-Speed Cameras for High-Speed Shoes

After space shuttle Columbia, investigators needed to see how materials reacted during recreation tests with high-speed cameras, which involved working with industry to create a system that could analyze footage filmed at 30,000 frames per second. Engineers at Adidas used this system to analyze the behavior of Olympic marathoners' feet as they hit the ground and adjusted the design of the company’s high-performance footwear based on these observations.

Martial artist Barry French holds an Impax Body Shield while former European middle-weight kickboxing champion Daryl Tyler delivers an explosive jump side kick; the force of the impact is registered precisely and shown on the display panel of the electronic box French is wearing on his belt.

One-Thousandth-of-an-Inch Punch

In the 1980s, Olympic martial artists needed a way to measure the impact of their strikes to improve training for competition. Impulse Technology reached out to Glenn Research Center to create the Impax sensor, an ultra-thin film sensor which creates a small amount of voltage when struck. The more force applied, the more voltage it generates, enabling a computerized display to show how powerful a punch or kick was.

Astronaut Sunita Williams poses while using the Interim Resistive Exercise Device on the ISS. The cylinders at the base of each side house the SpiraFlex FlexPacks that inventor Paul Francis honed under NASA contracts. They would go on to power the Bowflex Revolution and other commercial exercise equipment.

Weight Training Without the Weight

Astronauts spending long periods of time in space needed a way to maintain muscle mass without the effect of gravity, but lifting free weights doesn’t work when you’re practically weightless. An exercise machine that uses elastic resistance to provide the same benefits as weightlifting went to the space station in the year 2000. That resistance technology was commercialized into the Bowflex Revolution home exercise equipment shortly afterwards.

Want to learn more about technologies made for space and used on Earth? Check out NASA Spinoff to find products and services that wouldn’t exist without space exploration.   

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[ahhnini]

FLUFFTOBER 2024 - 10.26 rafe cameron

spooky movie night!

flufftober masterlist

you cuddle up close to rafe, sprawling the thin orange blanket over the two of you. he wraps and arm around your waist and brings you closer to his body, before reaching for the remote and playing start on your first movie of the night.

you set up an air mattress in the living room, as the couch was too small to hold the both of you, and you wanted to get an equal view of the tv screen. you weren’t a fan of horror movies, but being with rafe made them more bearable.

he’d insisted the night would kick off with scream, stating that its a classic, and you tried your best to not hide under the covers, knowing rafe would tease the hell out of you.

you gasped at one particular jumpscare, and he held you closer, kissing your shoulder. unfortunately you were a bit shaken up after that.

to distract yourself, you sat up, making your way to the actual couch, grabbing the bowl of uneaten popcorn and holding it to your lap, staring at it. you hear some shuffling, and you look to see rafe staring at you with teasing eyes. “scared?” you frantically shake your head, “no, I wanted a snack,” you shrug, shoving a piece of popcorn in your mouth, “you’re lying, I haven’t heard any chewing coming from there,” you let out a breath, lips forming into a pout.

“come here,” he shoves the blanket away, opening his arms for you to come back down to the mattress. you hesitate, slowly putting the popcorn bowl back on the coffee table, and crawling onto the “bed.” he wraps his arms around you again, tighter this time, and he whispers in your ear, “if ghostface was ever real, he wouldn’t be able to get past me,” you lightly scoff at his playfulness, holding onto his arm.

he paused the movie, “okay—we don’t have to watch this, I know how scared you get. here,” he exits outside of the streaming service, putting on coraline instead. you smile as the film began playing, both of you enjoying each other’s company—and coraline’s—for the rest of the evening.

taglist - @maybankslover @nemesyaaa @julie123456897 @mfdoomdickrider @grxnde-dwt @littlelamy @rafeeekam @xcinnamonmalfoyx

[star-suh]

Happy-ly Ever After: The Spa

Ricky Shen x Male Reader

an: last part of the happy spa trilogy, also i became lazier so i won't be writing content warnings anymore 😭

—

yn hasn’t had sex for a long time due to university assignments so when the opportunity appears, he takes it but first he has to get ready for the occasion. he decides to visit a famous spa that is said to have the most pretty and gorgeous people in the world. “i have to make sure if that’s true” he mutters while locking the front door.

the bell on the door rings, alerting the receptionist that someone just arrived, “hey hello, my name is matthew, how can i help you today?”. “hello, i want a massage and some uhmm… depilation.. y-you know where” yn says embarrassed. matthew lets out an almost quiet laugh, “sure buddy, let me guide you to the locker rooms so you can change your clothes and then go to this room” he hands him a card with a number on it, “enjoy” he smiles at yn.

yn nervously awaits for the person who’s gonna service him when the door creaks open, revealing a tall and handsome guy. “good afternoon, my name is ricky and i’m gonna be in charge of you for the rest of the day” he confidently says, “so a massage and a depilation.. wax?” his question being responded with a little yeah from the client.

the massage started, ricky made sure to put enough body oil so the movements of his hands were smooth, pressing the right pressure spots, relieving yn from the stress.

“how are you feeling mr. ln?” the masseur’s hands kneading the skin as if it were bread dough, moans coming out of his mouth “it feels so good mr.” he praises “the best feeling. i feel as if i’m on top of a fluffy cloud”. yn completely relaxes on the mattress, his body glistening with the yellow and white lights around the room. “okay, time for waxing” unexpectedly ricky slaps yn’s ass making him gasp in surprise, “what?” he says looking around. “you asked for it, ricky pulls out the card matthew gave yn before, a massage and a depilation you know where” ricky hides the card on his pant’s pocket, “the wax is ready man, so sit on all fours or whatever position your comfortable, what matters is that your ass is wide open for me to do a good job”. ‘why’s he smiling like that? yn thought, ‘he seems like he enjoys this type of work’. yn obeys but he just sits with his legs on each side of his body, near the mattress edge, his ass wide open and hole visible for ricky who makes a wow with his mouth and bit his lower lip.

he starts spreading the wax with a device that leaves a thin film of it on yn’s ass, ricky just needs to peel it and ta-dah the hair is gone. he continues repeating the process all over yn’s ass until it’s completely smooth, “something special for tonight?” ricky asks, sensing the reason for the waxing. but yn was too embarrassed to answer, after all he has his ass in front of an unknown’s face. “tough crowd huh” ricky murmurs, continuing doing his job. yn hears when ricky puts the device on a table near them and think he can go already but ricky’s hand grips his left ass cheek hard stopping him from stepping outside the massage bed, “i’m not done with you mr., it’s the turn of your hole to be waxed” despite his smile yn could sense ricky was getting annoyed by his actions. ‘don’t worry yn this is just the last part’ he says in his mind and as if ricky had read his thoughts he mutters an ‘it’s not the last part’.

yn’s hole clenches on air while being smeared on the wax, this time ricky was using his hands, with gloves of course, he then peels the film of wax in little chunks until it’s gone completely, once again repeating the process until all is clean and smooth. at this point yn has given up, he was now face down ass up, his hole clenching right in front of ricky’s face, “look who’s being cute all of a sudden” ricky pours some cream on his hand and smears it on yn’s ass, he starts to pretend as if the hole was yn’s face, talking to it. sometimes his hand slips right above the pulsating hole disguised as accidental touches, “sorry” he mutters everytime it happens. yn was getting aroused, the same as ricky, who’s bulge started to appear on his silky pants. yn’s dick gets hard, the mere thought of someone as hot as ricky doing those types of things to his hole clouds his mind. ricky blows air from his mouth directly to yn’s hole, it clenches on it. as if he was being hypnotized ricky slowly moves his face closer against the other, whispering sweet nothings to it, his mouth opens, it was watering, eager to taste that ring of muscles. finally his wet tongue mets with it, he licks a strip from his balls to his hole, “fuck” he couldn’t hold it anymore, latching his lips on the needy hole, draggin’ his tongue around and inside it, ravaging it completely. “mr. rickyyy” yn tried to push his head away from him but to no avail, ricky just replied with a moan indicating that he wasn’t planning to stop. the masseur’s hand grabs yn’s dick and closes around it, moving it up and down, “look at you, already dripping” ricky mentions when he touches yn’s wet tip, precum dripping of it, he use it to slick the shaft and make it more pleasurable for yn.

yn leaned on his back and holded his legs, knees near his chest so ricky could keep doing wonders with his tongue, “why are y-you doing this?” yn asked, curiosity getting the best out of him but ricky responded with a simple “it’s my job, i have to make sure i did it well. not a single hair so i think i did a good one” he winked and resumed his rimjob.

minutes passed and ricky has still his face buried on yn’s ass but this time he was jerking off too, pulling his pants and underwear down enough to pull his dick out. “just put it in already, please” yn begged, he wanted to feel something bigger and thicker, ricky’s tongue was not enough for him. “what about your date from later at night?. thought you were doing this for them?”, ricky rubs the puckered hole with two fingers then introduces them and moves them in a scissors motion to open it more, “i don’t care just do it” tears threatening to spill, overwhelming feelings taking over him. “say less”.

ricky’s thick cock pummels its way, its big head opening his walls so deliciously that yn moaned loudly, asking for more, the veins around the cock scrapping yn’s walls so damn good. “ufff tonight’s situation gonna eat good” ricky jokes, positioning his hands on yn’s shoulders to pound harder. the bed moved in a rhythmic pace, squeaking caused by every thrust. “you fuck so good” yn praises, driving ricky even wilder. he discards hispants completely, his bottom half completely naked. he lies down on the bed too and position yn on his side, slapping his shaft on the other’s back entrance, “ready?” he asks, “yeah” yn responds quickly. “i’m not gonna hold back” ricky adds, “i don’t give a fuck”.

his balls slapped against the other while still shoving his dick, “i’m not gonna stop until your ass remembers the shape of my dick and would only accept mine, no one else's. sorry for your situationship”. ricky bites yn’s ear and then lick the back of his neck. yn manages to be on top this time to ride his masseur, with his hands on each side of his hips, guiding him, “you like it mr. ricky?” he sits hard “am i your best client yet” yn says pouting, with doe like eyes that immediately rolled back when ricky hit on his sweet spot, his tip scraping around it, the pleasure expanding throughout his whole body. ricky likes how feisty yn tried to be, “yes mr. ln you’re the best cockwhore i’ve ever had”. yn stops the riding session, he just sits with ricky’s dick still inside, he starts to move his hips and hump on him with all the strength left on him, this caused his hole and therefore insides to contract so tight that ricky came instantly. yn’s inside being flooded by ricky’s sticky spooge, the liquid went down ricky’s shaft and balls, dripping on the mattress, ricky gasped for air, still holding yn’s hips while riding his high, “fuck this was indeed the best fuck. i’ve never had someone to make me cum so easy” ricky praises, he stands up to clean himself and then yn.

“thank you for today, hope you enjoyed it fully” ricky thanked yn while waving goodbye, “hope i can have you here some time soon”, yn turns around and smirks at him. trust, this is not gonna be yn’s last visit to the spa, the happy ending spa.

[ericscroptop]

Good Girls Ride

✧ pairing: bf! xiaojun x gf! reader

✦ genre: smut

✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), smut, p!rn without plot, cursing, cowgirl position, riding, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names, kissing

✦ word count: 3.1k words

✧ synopsis: plain and simple: it’s your first time riding dejun.

⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆

Your head rested against Dejun’s shoulder while your body had found home comfortably in his lap, cuddled into his chest as you guys spent time lazily watching movies together.

Now usually when men watch movies with their girlfriends, it often leads to sex because they can’t seem to keep it in their pants.

But right now, it is you who can’t seem to focus on the television with your hot boyfriend so close to you.

Dejun had his undivided attention on the film currently playing. He’s been raving about this action film that came out recently— of which, you honestly couldn’t give a rat’s ass about.

Though, you agreed to watch this movie when you saw how his eyes lit up in elation when he discovered it had been added to streaming services.

You obliged since he always went along with what you wanted to do and put your needs first 95% of the time.

He perpetually gave you princess treatment and attention. Always allowing you to be the one to choose what to eat when you two were eating out. Letting you be in charge of aux when you were his passenger princess. And, he always ensures that you’re satisfied and reached your climax every single time you two had intercourse.

Dejun was consistently sweet to you. You loved him for that. He took care of you beyond well and you never took for granted his sweet nature.

Though, that’s what should make moments that surround him and his desires a bit more special. Your boyfriend rarely complains in allowing you to pick and choose most of the time. In fact, he encourages it. He loves giving you what you want and no matter what he does with you, he’s just grateful that you’re by his side.

And so, you really want to be able to sit through this 3 hour-long movie with your boyfriend, as he’d been more than eager to show you something he’s interested in.

But this genre of movie isn’t particularly your favorite. And you know Dejun is well aware it’s not really your vibe.

Which is why he has you pulled into his lap. So you could remain still and held securely in his embrace to watch this movie like a good girl.

Not only was boredom beginning to strike your brain, but you also had a habit of having the inability to stay still. You made way too many movements— whether big or small.

You squirmed so much like a worm. You often had to reposition yourself or fidget as long as you were awake and weren’t focused.

It especially was hitting you now that your ass covered by thin leggings rested over Dejun’s lap and crotch, covered in those lightweight, mesh basketball shorts he always wore when lounging around the house.

Not to mention, he was wearing a black muscle tank that tormented you by having his bare arms on display.

His left arm was currently draped over your shoulder, the palm of his hand and fingers occasionally giving you gentle touches over your own arm and shoulder.

Locking in on this movie way out of your taste was already hard enough on its own, and your boyfriend merely existing was making it even harder.

You can’t help the sexual appetite you suddenly have now. Your mind drifts off to the pretty noises your boyfriend made in bed and how his body fit so well against yours. How he loved when you tugged on his hair and massaged it. How he’s just always so good to you and it makes you want to get on your knees for him.

You just love the shit out of him and want to be buried deep inside him for life.

A sigh leaves your mouth while you crane your neck to graze your lips over his neck. Your eyelids shut as you dot feathery kisses over his skin, humming in pleasure as you do so.

Dejun’s hold on you tightens a bit once your teeth begin to nip his neck, sucking in a breath.

“Hey… what are you doing, love?” his eyes are doing their best to stay focused on the movie whilst your lips stuck over his neck like a magnet.

He was too keen on watching this movie for weeks now, but nothing stops you when lust takes over.

“Just obsessed with you.” you mumbled into his skin, continuing in kissing him up and probably leaving a mark or two in the process.

Your body begins to squirm over him, shifting your ass from side to side even within his hold in attempt to stimulate his dick to get him hard.

Your ears pick up on him swallowing hard at your actions, and you bounce over him carefully, but enough to get him to draw out a low moan.

He can feel your lips curve into a smile over his skin. Your dominant hand finds its way into his scalp, massaging it lovingly. Your other hand rests on the back of his neck.

“You’re just always so needy, huh? Always want my attention.” Dejun teases, and you remove your mouth from his neck to look him in the eyes.

“Can’t help myself, Junie. You’re so hot.” your gaze stays concentrated on his pupils, looking at him with bedroom eyes and mouth slightly parted as you grind into him. The both of you hiss at the feeling of each other’s crotch against one another and the friction created.

“Tell you what. Since you’re being all cute over my lap right now, why don’t we go take this to the bed and you can ride me?”

Your movements halt, mouth agape from his words and confidence faded away.

He smirks at your expression, and only reaches a hand down to your thigh to pat it gently.

“Since you don’t want to watch the movie I chose, the least you can do is do what I want in the bedroom. Can you do that for me, pretty?”

———————————————————————————

And so you agreed.

The two of you neglected the movie and headed to the bedroom, quickly discarding all your clothes between heated kisses and teasing.

Now, you sit in front of Dejun. His legs are spread out on either side of you, and his arms are leaned back behind him, holding himself up on the bed.

His eyes sparkled at you in anticipation. Waiting for you to split yourself open and welcome his manhood up inside you.

Though, you can only stare dumbly at his veiny cock and swallow hard.

You’re aching to feel his length inside you, but you’ve never actually rode anyone before.

You didn’t know what it felt like to be on top. And something about sinking down onto his dick just seemed really intimidating.

Taking control in this way was foreign to you. Being pampered and Dejun doing all the work was what you were used to.

The spotlight was on you. Of course you’ve seen explicit content and heard about what it’s like to be on top, but that’s it. You weren’t sure if you could execute the proper skills and avoid embarrassing yourself.

“Jun… I’ve never been on top before.” you look at his eyes with an innocent stare.

“I don’t know if I can do it, babe.” a pout forms on your lips, causing your boyfriend to chuckle.

He knows you secretly just want him to do what you’re used to. Bending you over and fucking the shit out of you. But he wants to challenge you for once.

He saw how eager you were to kiss him up and tease your ass over his crotch just a bit ago. He knows you have it in you to ride him. You can take it for him.

“You can do it, baby. I’m right here incase you need help.” he reassures you, bringing his thumb to your cheek and rubbing it sweetly.

You half smile nervously at him, still a bit hesitant at proceeding with the act of riding him.

But, you trust Dejun so much. He would never hurt you or make you feel bad. If he thinks you can do it, then you believe him.

Your dominant hand reaches for his cock. It twitches at your touch and your fingers begin to lube up his length with his own precum.

Your teeth catch your bottom lip in hold and Dejun feels hot in feeling and seeing you touch his dick and adjusting yourself over him to bring his length close to your pussy.

Cock within your hold, you start to play with the head against your folds to get you wet enough to take him, causing Dejun’s breathing to increase and you whimper at the contact.

“C’mon baby. I got you.” Dejun whispers and brings a hand to your wrist, his touch encouraging you to welcome him in.

And so you do.

He helps you put it in. You align yourself over him well with his aid and his cock head enters your hole. You hiss with eyes shut as you sink down him inch by inch, resting your legs on either side of him, and your boyfriend says nothing but words of encouragement during the process of his length stretching you out.

You let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding once he bottoms you out, prompting you to whine at the feeling of fullness.

“C’mere.” your boyfriend coos and you carefully lean over towards his face to connect your lips with his, each of your hands resting on one another’s body.

You two make out for a minute while you cock warm him. He lets you get used to him being inside you in this way for a moment so you could get comfortable and less tense.

And you do loosen up. Your mouth moved in sync with his own, and you begin to rock your hips back and forth, grinding over him as the desperation to get yourself off waves over you.

Your arms wrap around his neck and his hands feel all up on the curves and edges of your body while you grind over his cock.

Your hips play around with moving back and forth and moving in a circular motion, testing out the waters.

A filthy moan then leaves your mouth at the stimulation of grinding your clit, making a smirk appear on Dejun’s face as you get used to this.

“I wanna feel you fucking yourself over me. You can do that for me, can you, pretty?” his voice low.

You only whimper in response. Your hands let go from around his neck and find new settlement on his shoulders and chest.

Your hips then lift carefully, starting to move up and down over his length. Your moist pussy letting half of his length slip in and out repeatedly, but slowly.

His hands hold your hips securely, and his eyes are gleaming as he watches you work yourself up and down, mouth open while you concentrate and use his cock like a toy.

Seeing you like this is captivating. The sexual passion you have is strong.

He is in awe at how beautiful your entire being is, and dives into your right breast, beginning to kiss the soft flesh.

It adds more stimulation onto you, fucking up your brain at the pleasure being brought to your sensitive areas.

His tongue coats your erect nipple, leaving his saliva and wetness all over your breast and he then starts hungrily sucking hickeys onto the skin as best as he can, and repeating the same with your other breast. “Fucking hell, you’re gonna ruin me.” he mumbled in between attacking your mounds.

You continue to slide yourself and bounce over him, breath hitching as you do so repeatedly.

Evidently though, you’re starting to feel tired. Unfortunately for you, you don’t have good enough stamina and your thighs are starting to burn from this new position.

You sink back all the way down, beginning to go back to grinding yourself over him at a steady pace. You love the way grinding brings so much stimulation to your swollen clit, and it has you smiling. You moan and let free a couple hushed gasps in satisfaction at the feeling.

Dejun mimics your smile and groans at your neediness and desperation.

It’s turning him on in seeing you attempt to get yourself off right on top of him in full naked view, so filled up with his thick cock— working so hard to fuck yourself over him.

Though, Dejun admits that he did like seeing you bounce up and down his cock, watching his cock split you open.

As much as he loves watching you grinding right now, he thinks it’s time for him to take over.

“Love seeing you like this, pretty. But I think it’s time for me to take over, yeah?”

His hands move over to your ass cheeks, massaging them before his fingers start digging deep into the flesh.

You suddenly gasp when he lifts you up carefully over his cock, starting to slide you up and down over his length.

His hips begin to thrust upwards, fucking you at his own pace and to his own pleasure.

“Ahhh— Dejun!” you practically scream at Dejun’s sudden take over.

Your eyes concentrate on his face, watching the hunger that is deeply visible in his pupils as he follows a rhythm within his thrusts. His nails are deeply dug into your bottom as he uses his strength to lift you up and down. Groans and irregular breaths leave his throat at the feeling of your walls stroking his cock.

You can’t help but start to alternate between tightening and loosening your walls at the feeling of Dejun using his cock to his control. It’s sending him into overdrive, and makes him even hungrier for you two to reach climax. His thick brows tighten together and his chest heaved with every plunge.

“Mhm, you like when I have control— don’t you, baby?” your boyfriend grunts as he raises his hips, making him reach inside of you deeper and come in contact with your cervix.

High pitched moans escape your throat at the feeling, and you tilt yourself forward a bit. Practically gripping onto his chest and shoulders to keep yourself steady, trying not to fall over from how fucked out you are from the pure bliss he’s bringing to your pussy with his cock.

The position you’re in allows a fantastic vantage point for your g-spot. It is then that you feel that tingly tension from your clit and your groin muscles contract.

It’s starting to hurt so good. You can feel your climax coming. Tightness is present from your back down to your legs. Excess saliva builds up in your mouth from the immense pleasure coursing your body and your heart rate picks up.

“Dejun… ba-baby I’m…” tears begin to build up and cloud your vision, just like how the pressure of your boyfriend’s cock is fucking you senseless and fogging your brain from any clear thoughts. You can’t even finish your sentence and barely are able to talk.

Dejun can feel you squeeze his shaft and stares darkly at your face. He sees your fucked-out state and knows his girl is on the verge of milking his cock.

A tear manages to slip out your eye and roll down your cheek, and you whine at how full and overwhelmed you are.

This encourages Dejun to keep up his movements. Adding extra emphasis to each thrust he makes and grunting loudly at his effort and in seeing the way your body is responding to him.

Your stomach muscles clench and breasts jiggle at every movement, leaving him aroused times a million and oversexed by your body. You’re like a moving work of art to him, and he can’t help but feel the blood rushing through his cock at this beautiful, lewd scene.

“Let it out, babygirl. I’m so ready for you.” he growls out, and his words cue you to release, immediately satisfying that itch-pain pleasure that took over your body.

There’s a heat increase within your pussy as you cum. Every inch of you trembles at the feeling of your juices coming out and Dejun’s cock still moving inside you.

Your mouth is wide open in relief and from the electric shock rushing your senses.

“Oh my god—uhhh!” you moan loudly, and your boyfriend’s length begins to twitch not only from your dirty noises that are like heaven to him, but also from how his cock feels like it’s swimming inside your pussy. His shaft is practically drowning and overflowing in your cum, all drenched.

His dick starts to feel sparkly, and he continues to fuck you a bit longer as his own ejaculation is coming.

His entire face contorts, and he deeply groans once he lets go. You can feel his dick swell and grow a bit, and it spasms and pulsates with each and every hot spurt.

Your walls can’t help but squeeze over him as hard as you can while he cums inside of you.

The warmth and pressure of his semen reaches your cervix and fills you up, making it feel like your pussy is getting baked from all the heat stuffed inside of you.

After milking himself dry, he lets his body fall back onto the bed. You allow yourself to drop on top of him, chests colliding.

Both of your heartbeats are still racing from the ‘exercise’ and your legs and thighs shake, coming down from your high and the physical activity.

“You did so well for me. I got you, pretty.” Dejun moves his right hand towards your back to calm you down. His fingers come in contact with sweat glistening your spine, and you cringe at the feeling.

“God, I’m so sweaty. Don’t touch me— i’m gross.” you’re quick to say, trying to shift off Dejun but he keeps you secured over him, refusing to let go.

“We just fucked like animals and you think I care about sweat?” your boyfriend scoffs and lets out a chuckle.

He lifts his free hand towards the nape of his neck, feeling his own sweat that drenched it. He removes his hand quickly after coating his hand, and holds it in the air to show you.

“See? I’m sweaty too. It’s normal, baby.”

Rolling your eyes is the only response you give him. You rest your head against his bare chest, pressing a gentle kiss against his skin.

Your lids close for a moment, his cock still inside you. There’s no motivation in you to leave his arms or move your body. You just wanna be stuck in his embrace forever.

“Wanna go actually watch the movie this time now that you got what you wanted?” Dejun whispers.

You let out a sigh, “Nah, I think it’s time for a nap.” You snuggled your head into his chest, trying to win him over with your cuteness.

In response, he huffs out some air and without warning, brings a hand to smack your ass.

You gasp at the feeling, and hiss at the sensitivity you have from the waist down post-sex. “Dejun!” you scold him.

“Always such a brat. You’re lucky I love you.”

⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆

[cjlouwho]

You're a Piece of My Soul I Can't Let Go

10.5k; read below or on ao3; tags: presumed dead (no actual major character death), angst, hurt/comfort, anxiety, panic, flashbacks, smut, witness protection, secret service

Buck didn't cry at the funeral.

It's not that he wasn't sad. He was heartbroken beyond repair.

The tears simply wouldn't fall.

He didn't show much emotional at all. Didn't listen to the speeches people gave. Didn't react when someone would give him a hug or a pat on the back. Didn't care about the words of encouragement by people who had no clue what it felt like to lose someone.

“Time will heal.”

“He's an angel now.”

“God needed him more.”

“Life goes on.”

“Hold yourself together for him.”

It was all bullshit.

The burial wasn't much different. He sat, unmoving, from his chair in the front row. Held out his hands when he presented with the folded flag. Heard the sniffs and cries from the people around him, but he remained stoic.

Nothing about this felt right.

There was a reception afterward at Bobby and Athena's place. Buck, wanting nothing to do with the limo that was reserved for family, had driven his Jeep to the cemetery.

He told Bobby he'd meet them at their place. Let Bobby wrap him in another hug before he left.

He didn't go to Bobby's.

Didn't want to talk to all those people. He had no desire to hear them laugh as they told stories about Tommy. They'd never know him like he did.

He went home instead. Back to the place he and Tommy shared.

It was Tommy's house, originally. Then Buck had moved in only five months into them dating. It seemed crazy at the time, but it worked. They were engaged two months later, married six months after that.

Four months of marriage. That's all they'd gotten. The ring around Buck's finger still felt new, and it was already over.

Seventeen months total. The best seventeen months of Buck's life.

And it was all gone.

Buck walked into the house that screamed Tommy, Tommy, Tommy everywhere he looked. There was the couch they had picked out together. The lamp that Tommy had knocked off the table twice, yet somehow never broke. The kitchen where they realized they were far too old to be having sex on a countertop. The clock on the wall that played obnoxious music every hour that Buck hated but Tommy loved, so it was only ever on if Buck had to work and Tommy was at home.

His houseplants he killed regularly.

The TV they splurged on because Tommy both loved watching movies and loved watching Buck watch movies.

The bedroom, two nightstands. One side almost empty because all Buck needed was a lamp and a spot for his phone at night. The other side with a lamp, charger, reading glasses, chapstick, and a glass of water that now had a thin film of dust covering the top.

Buck toed off his shoes and walked to the bed, lying down. He pulled his phone from his pocket and silenced it before setting it on his nightstand. He didn't want to be bothered. Maddie could see his location, would know he was fine. That was enough.

He curled onto his side, facing Tommy's side of the bed. He tugged at Tommy's pillow, moving it so it rested lengthwise against his body. He snuggled it tightly. Closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of Tommy's shampoo and cologne, still fresh on the pillowcase.

He fell into a dreamless sleep.

Nothing about this felt right.

“What's the matter?” Tommy asked immediately upon entering the kitchen. Buck had his eyebrows drawn tightly together as he stared at a can of coconut milk. That was never a good sign.

“I got the wrong thing,” Buck pouted. “I was supposed to get coconut cream and I picked up the milk.”

“I'm guessing they're not interchangeable?”

Buck gave him a look that asked the question, “Are you crazy?” without saying a word.

“Right.” Tommy began searching the room for his keys, “I will go get you your coconut cream.”

“No, I can get it,” Buck put the can down and headed for the stove. “I'll let Bobby know dinner will be a little late,” he said, switching off a couple of the burners, “and then-”

Buck was cut off by Tommy wrapping his arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to his temple. “You keep cooking,” he insisted, “I'll get the cream.”

Buck smiled softly, leaning further into Tommy's touch. “You sure?”

“I'm sure.”

Buck turned his head for a kiss on the lips before Tommy unraveled himself from him.

“Keys?” Tommy asked.

“Coffee table.”

“Right! Thank you. Love you, Babe. Be right back.”

“Love you too.”

Three days was all the bereavement pay a city employee was allotted after the death of a family member. Bobby had managed to space out Buck's shifts enough to give him seven days before he had to dip into his vacation time.

It didn't matter anyway. He hadn't used his vacation days in a long time. Had been saving them for a long roadtrip with...

It didn't matter. He didn't need those vacation days anymore.

A part of him had thought about going back to work. He had gotten dressed and everything. Had his keys and was headed out the door. He couldn't seem to make it past the doorframe.

He typed a simple text to Bobby, taking vacation day, silenced his phone and got back into bed. Bed, bathroom, kitchen, bed, bathroom, kitchen, the same path for the next week.

People would come to the door, knock and knock and knock, but he made no effort to let them in.

When they'd text, he'd respond so they knew he was alive, but also knew to leave him alone.

I need some time, he'd text them, please let me have time to myself.

That worked for a while, until Eddie decided to screw it all and use the spare key he had to let himself in.

“Buck?” he called out as he gently opened the front door. “Buck, you here?”

He walked into the dark house, all the curtains drawn and not a single light on. After peeking into the kitchen and living room, he made his way to the bedroom. The door was cracked, so he nudged it open until he could see Buck lying on the bed, facing away from the door.

He was under the covers, cuddling a pillow close to him.

“Buck?” Eddie whispered.

He waited a few seconds and was just about to head out to the living room until Buck woke up, when he heard a, “Hm?”

“You awake?”

“I'm not a sleep talker,” Buck muttered grumpily. He turned just enough to look at Eddie. “Why're you here?”

“To check on you.”

Buck folded himself back over the pillow, closing his eyes. “Told you I'm fine.”

“Yeah... don't really believe you, bud.” Eddie walked over to the other side of the bed so he could face Buck. Sunlight peeked through the curtains enough for Eddie to see that, surprisingly, Buck didn't look like he'd been crying.

He just looked tired. Staying in bed for two weeks could do that to a person.

“Come on, Buck,” Eddie said, “let's go out to the living room. Get you something to eat.”

“Already ate,” Buck mumbled into the pillow.

“When?”

Buck sighed. “What time is it?”

“Three o'clock in the afternoon.”

“What day is it?”

“Thursday.”

Reluctantly, Buck sat up in bed, sending a glare to Eddie. “I ate at one.”

Eddie crossed his arms. “On what day?”

God, Buck hated when he got all parental with him. Made him feel like a child. “Wednesday.”

“Up,” Eddie demanded, snapping his fingers. “Now.”

Buck was too tired to fight him. He knew the quicker he went along, ate whatever Eddie wanted him to eat, talked about whatever Eddie wanted him to talk about, he could get him out of his house.

He pulled the covers off of him and got out of bed, scooting his feet as he walked into the living room and plopped down on the couch.

Eddie couldn't help but noticed how much weight Buck had lost over the last couple of weeks. It made him feel awful for waiting so long to force himself into Buck's home. He was trying to be respectful. Trying to give Buck the space he kept requesting. He'd get those texts from Buck every time he knocked on the door, and he'd leave because he was asked to. That's what they'd all been doing. He knew now that was a mistake.

“I don't wanna eat much,” Buck said, staring straight ahead at the TV.

“I already ordered some wonton soup from China Wok. It'll be here in a minute.” Eddie sat on the other end of the couch. “Talk to me, Buck. Please.”

“About?”

“Anything.”

Buck's eyes scanned the living room. Dead flowers were scattered around, all sent somewhere between the day after Tommy's body was found up until a few days ago. Buck had managed to bring them into the house, just so no one called in a wellness check on him, but he didn't bother with keeping them alive.

What was the point? They'd die eventually anyway.

“I haven't dreamt since he... since they... you know.”

Eddie was thrown off guard by the admission, expecting it to be harder for Buck to confide in him. “None at all?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Used to. Used to have a lot of dreams. Not anymore.”

“Buck, I know what it's like to-”

“Don't,” Buck interrupted, looking at Eddie for the first time since they sat down. “Please, I- I've gotten so many 'I know what you're going through' texts from people and it doesn't help.”

Eddie nodded. “I understand.”

Buck turned his attention down to his hands, thumbs twiddling together nervously. “Can I- Can I tell you something really dumb?”

“Sure!” Eddie exclaimed, trying to lighten the mood a bit. “I love hearing dumb things.”

Buck managed a small smile. It faded faster than it had appeared. “I- Sometimes it doesn't feel, um, feel real to me. Like, I don't believe he's gone. That, um, that feeling that you get when someone has- when they've died. I- I don't have that.”

“Accepting it's happened is one of the hardest things to do, Buck. That's normal.”

“I haven't even cried,” Buck admitted. “Not since the day I was told he... he was gone.”

“That's normal too.”

Eddie didn't understand. Buck knew he wouldn't. “I don't know,” he breathed out, more to himself than to Eddie.

“Don't know what?”

The doorbell rang, pulling them out of their discussion. Buck was grateful. He didn't feel like talking anymore.

“Ready to eat?” Eddie asked, clapping his hands together as he got up and headed for the door.

“Mhm,” Buck lied. He leaned his head back on the couch and closed his eyes. He just needed to get through this meal, then Eddie would leave, and he could go back to bed.

He needed to get back to bed.

“It doesn't make any sense to me. At all.”

“You're not letting this go anytime soon, are you?”

“They didn't end up together in the end, Evan! Why'd they even say the movie was a romantic comedy? What's the point?”

Buck reached over and took Tommy's hand from where it rested on the center console. “I think they did it on purpose,” he surmised, “to spite you.”

“I agree, those bastards.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Buck gave Tommy's hand a squeeze, “they are fictional, so you know, they didn't really mind that they weren't together in the end.”

“Hm.” Tommy thought for a moment before shaking his head. “No, that doesn't make me feel any better at all.”

Buck shrugged. “I tried.”

“They had everything planned, Evan,” Tommy said, continuing his rant. “They had their whole future planned and they threw it all away in the end? Ugh, I can't.”

“Maybe it was to show that she found herself, you know, without him. That's not a bad thing.”

“It's not a bad thing at all, if I'm properly warned that that's what the movie is going to be about. It is a bad thing when you call the movie a romantic comedy.”

“Is there someone we should be writing a strongly worded letter to?” Buck asked, a cheeky grin on his face.

Tommy shot a meaningless glare in his direction. “You joke now, but I wasn't the only one crying in the theater.”

“Who said I was joking?” Buck asked. “I- I love a strongly worded letter. We can whip out some paper and a pen the second we get home.”

Buck could feel Tommy's body start to relax. His face softened as he stole another glance at Buck before turning back to the road. “I love that you're my husband.”

Buck brought Tommy's hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “I love that you're mine.”

Buck stared down at his wedding band. It had been a month now. A month since he'd last seen Tommy. A month and five days since their last date.

“Buck... Buck?”

Buck looked up to Hen watching him from across the truck. They were on their way to a call. Some small fire in the middle of nowhere with no people around. It'd be an easy call. Buck was grateful for that. This would be his fourth shift back at work, although it was his first full 24-hour one.

“Yeah?” he asked, ignoring the fact that Chimney and Eddie were giving him side glances as well.

“You good?”

He'd be angry at the question if anyone else had asked. He knew his temper was shorter than it ever used to be. Knew even the smallest things could set him off. He often had to force himself to stay calm. Take some deep breaths and count to ten before responding to someone.

He didn't have to do that with Hen though. Her voice was soothing to him. A calm against the stormy sea that was his mind.

Buck nodded. “I'm good.”

“You want in?”

He paused, dumbfounded. He had no idea what she was talking about. “In on what?”

“We're placing bets on what caused the fire,” Chimney explained. “I said kids smoking in the woods.”

“I'm going with the sun beating down on a glass bottle.” Eddie looked proud of his choice.

“Old fashioned illegal campfire for me.” Hen smiled softly at Buck. “You?”

“Oh, um, nah. I- I'm good.”

“Oh come on,” Eddie reached over and nudged Buck's knee. “Take a guess.”

Buck took a deep breath. Thought for a moment. “Fireworks, I- yeah. Fireworks.”

“In the middle of the day?” Chimney questioned.

Hen shrugged. “Wouldn't be the first time. Okay, Cap,” she said, fiddling with her headset, “what about you?”

Buck phased back out as Bobby made his guess. He tugged at his ring, twirling it around and around on his finger. He thought about the inscription on the inside. One Four Three. Had to force himself out of that memory before he could even start to get into it.

It all felt like too much. Too overwhelming. He needed to get himself together.

He sat up straight and cleared his throat.

He could do this. He could get through this shift. Get home. Get into bed. Stay there for forty-eight hours before he'd have to pretend again.

...He didn't even care that he won the bet.

“I've tried calling him like five times,” Buck said. He was sitting on the couch, his leg bouncing nervously up and down, Bobby and Athena sitting across from him. “I- I'm sorry about dinner, guys-”

“Don't even think about it,” Athena interrupted. “Bobby, you having any luck?”

Bobby shook his head. “I've texted him a few times but they're not going through.”

“Something's wrong. He wouldn't... Something's wrong. His location isn't on anymore either.”

“Okay.” Athena pulled out her phone. “Where did you say he was going?”

“Ralph's. He was just getting me some coconut cream for my recipe. I- I said I'd go but he insisted. That was over two hours ago. I, um, I should drive there and check.” He went to get up but Athena held out a hand to stop him.

“I'll go,” she said. “You and Bobby stay. Let me know if he shows up. I've got my badge and everything out in the car, so I can ask around at the store if I can't find him. His phone probably died and they were out of the right stuff at Ralph's, so he went somewhere else.”

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe,” Buck replied, but he could see the look Athena gave Bobby out of the corner of his eye.

He knew nothing in his life was ever that simple.

He stumbled upon the video by accident. He was looking for a picture of a recipe that Maddie had asked for when his finger hit the wrong thumbnail and the video began to play.

It was one he took without Tommy knowing. A rare rainy day in Los Angeles gave them the opportunity to relax at home instead of run errands or make plans.

Buck was splayed out on the couch, head on the armrest and his legs on Tommy's lap. Tommy had a crossword over Buck's legs, staring at it with an intensity usually reserved for flying into dangerous situations.

“If twenty-one across is evergreen, then eighteen down can't be carpet.”

“I thought you said eighteen down had to be carpet?” Buck asked off camera.

“It does, Evan,” Tommy placed the pen between his teeth. “It really does.”

“Then evergreen is wrong.”

Tommy shook his head. “Nope. It's gotta be evergreen.”

“We've been going over this for almost an hour now, Tommy,” Buck said, huffing out a laugh. “Give it up.”

“I've never been this close to finishing a Sunday crossword!” Tommy whined, the smile on his face betraying the seriousness of his voice. “If I give up now, I'll never forgive myself.”

“If you give up now I'll let you blow me as a consolation prize,” Buck offered cheekily.

Tommy gasped, glancing at Buck with a look of betrayal. “Sabotage!” he exclaimed. “I have to finish this, babe, or my name isn't Thomas Andrew Kinard!”

“Your name isn't Thomas Andrew Kinard,” Buck replied, the video shaking with his laughter. “It's Buckley-Kinard.”

Tommy froze. He clicked his pen closed and tossed it, along with the paper, on the coffee table. He turned to Evan, his eyes darkening, “About that consolation prize?”

Buck found himself smiling as the video ended. He'd taken it only three weeks after their wedding. The video wasn't even old, but it felt like a lifetime ago.

Suddenly, the living room felt cold. Buck's spot on the couch now uncomfortable. The silence a stark contrast to all the life in that memory. For two months now he'd had nothing but silence in his home, besides the far too occasional visits from his friends and family. It wasn't the same though. It wasn't the same as having Tommy.

The smile on Buck's face faded. He got up and headed to the bedroom to lie down.

Maddie would have to get that recipe another day.

“We're all set to clear out here,” Bobby said over the radio. “Great work everyone.”

The call had been a big one. A four alarm fire that required the assistance of multiple stations.

“This is Firefighter Pilot Kinard of Harbor Station for Firefighter Buckley of 118, over,” Tommy's voice came over the radio. He had been providing assistance from the chopper, now hovering above them as he set to head back.

Buck glanced around at the rest of the 118, all stopping what they were doing to watch him and listen in. “Go for Buckley.”

“Looking for confirmation on a code one-four-three.”

“One-four-three confirmed and returned.”

“Excellent. Returning to Harbor Station.”

“What the hell is a one-four-three?” Chimney asked once the sounds from the chopper were off in the distance.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “It's their way of saying 'I love you' after a big call.”

Buck smiled. “We usually text it to each other,” he explained, a blush rising on his cheeks, “just to let the other know we're alright. Guess he couldn't get to his phone.”

Hen put a hand to her stomach. “That's so preciously sickening I might throw up.”

“Okay, okay, come on guys,” Bobby said, waving the group toward the truck, “give Buck a break-”

“Thank you, Cap.”

“-for now. We can make fun of him on the way back to the station.”

“Hey!”

It was the longest, most grueling shift Buck had had since he could remember. He had only managed a couple hours of sleep, and that was often in fifteen minute increments. The worst part was the majority of calls were from people being stupid. Accidents that could have been prevented had a single person with half a brain been anywhere around.

All Buck wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep.

Which is why he was not so pleasantly surprised when he pulled up to Maddie's car in his driveway.

She greeted him at the door with a hug, and he faked a smile as he hugged back. “Why're you here?” he asked, trying to sound polite.

“Well, you've been working so hard lately, I figured I'd come over and help with the housecleaning.”

“Oh, uh, um, thanks.” The overwhelming smell of cleaning supplies made him feel a bit lightheaded as he walked further into the house, dropping his duffel on the dining room table. “It looks great in here.”

That wasn't a lie. She had made the place spotless. He wasn't a messy person himself but he couldn't deny he'd let certain things, like mopping and dusting, go over the past few months.

“It's the least I could do,” she replied. “I won't stay long, Howie texted me about how busy you guys were. Needed an excuse to see you though. It's... It's been a while.”

Two and a half weeks, to be exact. No fault of Maddie's either. She'd make plans with him, and he'd cancel last minute.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. “I've been, uh, trying to get things back in order. I'm just- I'm still kind of...”

“It's okay,” she assured him. “Really. I understand.”

“Let me, um, let me go put my jacket up,” he said, tugging at it, “and we'll talk for a little bit before you go.” He didn't want to. No desire for small talk, or talk of any kind, but he couldn't kick her out of the house after all she'd done for him.

She smiled. “Okay. That sounds good.”

He headed to his bedroom, but stopped dead in his tracks when he reached the doorway.

“Did you... Did you wash my sheets?”

“I did,” Maddie replied, coming up behind him. Her voice was far too nonchalant for the blinding rage that was slowly seeping up inside him.

“All of them? Like, the pillowcases too?”

“Uh, yeah? Why would I only wash some of your sheets, Buck?”

Buck hurried over to the far side of the bed, throwing the comforter and sheets back to get to Tommy's pillow.

He didn't care if he looked like a crazy person. He brought the pillow up to his face and took a deep breath in.

It smelled like Gain.

It made him want to throw up.

“Buck, what's wrong?” She was clearly worried, standing uncomfortably in the doorway.

“I didn't ask you to do this, Maddie,” he said angrily, tossing the pillow back on the bed. “I- I didn't ask you to do any of this.”

“I know. I just wanted to help. Buck, I'm sorry if I-”

“I need you to leave.”

“Buck-”

“Leave!”

She stood firmly in place. “I'm not leaving until you tell me what I did wrong.”

“I- I, everyone keeps trying to help me,” he huffed, “and I don't want it! I don't want Eddie coming over for dinner! I don't want Hen taking me out for drinks! I don't want Chimney taking me to a movie! I don't want Bobby texting me every damn day! And I don't want you to be my maid!”

“We're just trying to help you, Evan-”

“Don't call me that!” He spewed.

He was breathing heavily. The stinging in his eyes surprised him. It'd been so long since he had last cried. He didn't particularly feel like crying right now, but apparently his body did. He groaned, sitting down on Tommy's side of the bed and staring out the window. He brought Tommy's pillow to his chest, and began to sob.

Maddie was by his side in seconds, wrapping her arms around him and enveloping him in a hug. 'I'm so sorry, Buck. I'm so sorry.” She was crying too. Buck could feel her tears wetting his shirt. He wasn't even sure why she was apologizing. She didn't have anything to be sorry for. If anything, he should be apologizing for snapping at her so harshly.

If he could speak, he would have told her as much. Would have told her that his head was a jumbled mess that he couldn't seem to clear. That nothing about this felt real. That he felt like Tommy was still there, somewhere, with them.

That it'd been four months since he'd had a dream. How he missed dreaming. They were always so vivid, him and Tommy, living their lives together.

Now, there was just darkness. An endless abyss of black every time he closed his eyes.

He'd tell her how his memories haunted him. The dreams may not exist, but the memories would appear out of nowhere at the worst times. They'd plague him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't escape them.

He wasn't sure how much time passed before he was able to find his voice. Before he was able to bring himself out of Maddie's embrace. He kept a tight hold on the pillow, fingers messing with a pulled thread at the edge. “It s- smelled like him,” he said, his lip still trembling. “I'd... I'd wash everything else but, um, I- I couldn't wash this.”

“Oh, Buck, I'm so sorry. I didn't-”

“I know. It's okay. I- I know you were trying to help. It's okay.”

“Do you still have some of his cologne?”

Buck nodded and Maddie got up to go into the bathroom.

“Where?” she asked.

“Far sink, open the cabinet, black bottle.”

She returned a few seconds later with a bottle in hand, held out for Buck to see. “This one?”

“Mhm.”

“Want me to spray it?”

He laid the pillow out flat and Maddie sprayed it a couple of times.

“I really miss him, Maddie,” Buck admitted quietly, inhaling the scent of his cologne as it passed through the air.

“I know, Buck. I know.”

“Bobby, it's been twenty-four hours of nothing. I'm freaking out.”

Bobby hadn't left Buck since he'd arrived the day before. Athena had worked all night putting out alerts for Tommy and his vehicle, but hadn't gotten anywhere.

He and Buck had left two different times to go driving around. The rest of the 118 had gone searching as well, going to places he frequented, driving down any and every back road they could find.

Nothing.

Now, back at the house to rest for a minute, and make sure Tommy hadn't come back home, Buck was in a full blown panic.

“I know, Buck, but we're all doing everything we can,” Bobby replied, leading Buck to the couch. “Athena's got officers searching the whole city for his car. He'll be found.”

“But what if-”

“No,” Bobby sat on the edge of the coffee table so he could face Buck, “you're not gonna think like that, Buck.”

“Bobby,” his voice was pleading and his eyes red. “You know s- something's wrong. H- He wouldn't do this. You know that.”

Bobby sighed. He opened his mouth to speak, unsure of what he could even say, when the doorbell rang.

Buck's heart started pounding right away. Athena wouldn't ring the doorbell. She'd knock. So would anyone from the 118, except Eddie. Eddie would come right on in.

He was shaking as he got up and walked to the door, Bobby close behind him.

“Detective John Farrow,” a man introduced the second Buck opened the door. “Are you Evan Buckley-Kinard?”

Buck nodded. “I- Yes. I- I am.”

“Mr. Buckley-Kinard, I'm sorry to inform you...”

The sound of the detective's voice was replaced by a ringing in Buck's ears. He felt dizzy. His vision blurred. The last thing he remembered was Bobby catching him as he fell.

Agreeing to lunch at Maddie's with his parents was a mistake. He knew that from the moment he said yes. He'd been working on controlling his temper. Not overreacting at the small things.

There was still more work to be done.

“So,” Margaret began, everyone settled at the table. Maddie looked up to see her eyes on Buck. The look Margaret was giving him already made her want to scream. “There's really no easy way to say this, Evan-”

“Then maybe you shouldn't say it,” Maddie suggested. Chimney placed a hand on her back, rubbing gently to try and ease the tension.

Buck remained quiet, eyes directed toward his mother with an unreadable expression on his face.

“I'm simply asking,” Margaret continued, “if you've, you know, gotten back out there any?”

“Margaret,” Phillip warned under his breath. Maddie knew that if their dad wasn't even on their mom's side, this was never going to end civilly.

Maddie swore Buck's eyes went dark. “Buck-” Maddie started, but he cut her off.

“You're not seriously asking me if I'm dating six months after my husband died, are you, Mom?”

“Not dating, but getting back out into the world. I- I've heard so much about you staying holed up in your house, only leaving to go to work, and that worries me, Evan.”

“Stop calling me, Evan,” Buck demanded.

Margaret raised her hands in surrender. “I'm sorry,” she said, and she meant it. The name sometimes slipped out without her realizing it. She had been warned that the name triggered Buck in a way it never had before. Even though others had used it on occasion before, Evan had become Tommy's name for him. And with him gone, Buck didn't want to hear it from anyone. “I'm sorry, Buck. I just don't want to see you wasting away. It's hard for a mother to see her child suffer like this.”

“Were you over Daniel's death in six months?” Buck asked bitterly. “Were you back out there? Cause I seem to remember it being about thirty years before you even mentioned his name. And you only did that once Maddie told me about him.”

Tears filled Maddie's eyes. “Buck,” she spoke softly. She desperately wanted this conversation to end.

“That's not fair, Buck,” Margaret answered, her voice shaking. “Daniel was my child.”

“And Tommy was my husband!” Buck slammed his napkin on the table, rising to his feet. “We had planned a future together! We were saving up for a house, we were planning on having kids, we talked about what we'd do when we retired! Hell, we planned weekly grocery shopping trips together! All these things got ripped out from under me, and I'm supposed to just get back out there? Are you crazy?”

“Hey,” Phillip stood across from him, “that's too far. Your mother wasn't trying to be malicious.”

Buck shook his head, then began to head for the door. “This was a mistake. I- I'm gonna go.”

“Buck, wait-” Maddie went to get up, but Chimney placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Let me,” he said, walking out after Buck.

“Wait a minute, Buck!” Chimney jogged a few steps to catch up to him.

Buck stopped at his Jeep, hand on the door handle. “I'm not going back in.”

“Wasn't gonna ask you to. Just want to make sure you're okay.”

Buck let out a humorless laugh, turning back to Chimney. “Well, apparently I only stay holed up in my house except to go to work, so you tell me if I'm okay.”

“Maddie didn't say it like that to them, Buck, please don't be mad at her. She's worried about you. We all are.”

Buck scoffed. “Just leave me alone for tonight,” he said, getting into his Jeep. “I'll see you at work on Friday.”

“He flashed the ring three times today,” Eddie said, scooting back into the bench. After work they'd all met Tommy at the bar for a few drinks before heading home.

“Four,” Hen corrected.

“Nope.” Chimney took a sip of his beer. “Five.”

Tommy grinned at Buck. “Really? Five times? Can't say I blame them, I do have a hot fiancé.”

“Oh, my guy was not flirting,” Chimney stated. “Buck asked him if he liked the way the ring shimmered in the sunlight.”

“Mhm,” Hen agreed. “My girl wasn't flirting either. Buck noticed she had an ultrasonic ring cleaner in her bathroom and asked if she was happy with her purchase because, and I quote, 'I just got engaged and I want to make sure my ring stays perfect forever.'”

“Okay, guys,” Buck said with a groan, “we get it. I'm lame.”

“I don't think it's lame.” Tommy rested his hand on Buck's knee. “I think it's adorable. I love that you're excited to get married.”

A blush rose on Buck's cheeks. “I am excited,” he agreed, leaning in for a kiss. “Very excited.”

“Before this gets pg-13,” Eddie interrupted, “the two men I had were definitely flirting, but they both got the hint after the first 'fiancé' was thrown out there. Buck threw in two more for good measure. The other person- not flirting.”

“What about you?” Hen asked Tommy. “Did you get any offers you had to turn down today?”

“Well, I was thousands of feet in the air for both of the calls I went on, so any prospects would have had to look at me through some really good binoculars and then steal a radio to tell me they were into me, so no. No offers.”

“The guy in the bathroom definitely flirted with you like ten minutes ago, Dude,” Eddie said with a laugh.

“What?” Tommy asked incredulously. “No he didn't.”

“He for sure did. Man was jacked and he was asking for your workout routine.”

“He said he wanted to switch things up!” Tommy exclaimed.

Eddie snorted. “Oh, he definitely wanted to switch things up.”

“What? Who is this man?” Buck eyes darted around the bar. “Where is he?”

“Don't worry about it Buck,” Eddie reassured him. “Tommy didn't even realize it. Gave the guy a five minute rundown of how he gets the perfect squat. Your man only has eyes for you.”

Buck settled back into his seat, leaning into Tommy's side as Tommy pulled him closer and pressed a kiss to his temple. “That's true,” he whispered into Buck's ear.

Buck rested his head on Tommy's shoulder, ignoring the teasing gag sounds that came from the others around them.

If it were possible, he'd stay like this forever.

He should have expected this.

It should have happened sooner, if he were being honest.

He was lucky to go seven months without a call that hit too close to home.

There had been a hit and run. The car that was hit had flipped twice, landed right side up, and immediately burst into flames.

The man in the driver's seat never stood a chance.

Buck was okay while they hurried to get out the flames. He'd ignored the glances from the rest of the team, ignored Bobby's suggestion to stay by the engine, ignored the thoughts in the back of his head telling him to sit this one out.

It wasn't until the fire was out and he saw the man's body, burnt so severely he looked more like a halloween decoration than a human, that Buck lost it.

No matter how much he wanted to look away, his eyes were fixed on the body. His heart rate was speeding up quickly, each breath short and sharp and painful.

He hadn't even realized that tears were falling down his face. Or that he was letting out little noises similar to a dog's whine. He had his helmet in his hand, shaking so much it was vibrating against his leg.

Buck didn't even notice the bystanders watching him, some of them whispering, others pulling out their phones.

It felt like hours, but Bobby was in front of him within seconds. “We're gonna walk away, Buck,” he said calmly but firmly, planting a hand on his shoulder. “We're gonna walk away and go sit behind the engine. Come on.”

Buck let Bobby guide him to a quite spot behind the fire truck, sitting on the curb. Bobby took his helmet from him and tossed it somewhere, then sat down beside him.

“I'm sorry,” Buck breathed out, wiping over his face with his hand.

“You don't ever have to apologize for being human, Buck.”

“I don't know how to do this,” he confessed through sobs. “I don't- I don't know how to keep g- going.”

“The path through grief isn't linear,” Bobby explained. “Hell, it's not really much of a path you get through at all. More like a loop.”

“So this is... This is m- my forever?” He asked, voice rising in despair.

“No. Not exactly. You do learn how to manage it better over time, but it takes time, Buck. And it takes letting the people around you help you, instead of pushing them away.”

“I don't mean to,” Buck said as he began to calm down. “It just takes so much energy. Everything is exhausting. Talking to people is- is so exhausting.”

“I know. Buck, you've seen grief. It's been around you since you were a baby. I'm not saying there's any right or wrong way to grieve, but I think you know how dangerous it is to lose yourself in it.” Bobby put his arm around him, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “No one expects you to be exactly who you were before you lost Tommy. I'll never be the same person I was, Eddie won't be the same person he was, Chimney won't be who he was before losing his brother, I could go on and on. But we- I need you to realize you're still here, you're still breathing, and Tommy wouldn't want you to disappear.”

Buck nodded, a new wave of tears taking over him.

Bobby pulled him close and let him cry.

“How many kids do you want?”

Buck and Tommy were sat on the front porch steps watching the sunset behind the trees across the street.

“Uh,” Tommy paused, caught off guard. “I don't know. Haven't really thought about it.”

Buck shrugged. “We've talked about wanting kids, but we've never talked about how many we want.”

“Hm. Two sounds nice. Kinda close together so they can grow up with each other. You?”

“Two's good,” he agreed. “But we'd need a bigger house.”

“Oh, for sure. This one barely fits the two of us.”

“And I'd like for us to be married a while first. Settled, you know?”

Tommy raised his eyebrows. “You proposing?”

“Ha! Like this? No.” Buck took Tommy's hand in his and they settled into a comfortable silence. After a couple minutes, Buck squeezed Tommy's hand to get his attention. “I have, um, I've been thinking about it though. Um, about proposing,” he said, staring deep into Tommy's eyes to see what kind of response he'd get. When Tommy appeared surprised, Buck panicked a bit. “Is that, um, is- is that weird? To be thinking about it so soon?”

“What? Oh, God, no, Evan. I,” he laughed, “I've actually been thinking about it too. For a while now.”

Buck looked as shocked as the night Tommy first kissed him. “Really?”

“Really. I've been googling rings, looking for the perfect one. Kept trying to talk myself out of it because I wasn't sure if you'd think it was too fast but-”

Tommy's words were cut off by Buck's mouth on his, so forceful it nearly toppled them both over.

“Oh! Mmm,” Tommy moaned into the kiss, resting his hand at the base of Buck's neck.

“Yes,” Buck said, dazed as he pulled back far enough to speak.

“What?”

“Yes.”

“Bu- Evan, I didn't ask yet. Not the- I don't have a ring.”

“I don't care, Tommy. Yes. I'm saying yes. Yes?”

It took Tommy's mouth a second to catch up with his brain, but once it did he was nodding, his eyes filling with tears. “Yes. Of course, yes,” he replied, both of them laughing giddily before crashing their lips back together.

Everyone except for Hen was upstairs relaxing between calls. Bobby and Buck were at the table, planning out next week's meals. Eddie was fixing himself a cup of coffee. Chimney was on the couch, reading a book.

“We're all going out for beers after our shift,” Eddie said, glancing at Buck. “You in?”

Buck nodded. “Yeah, I'm in.”

He'd been trying lately. Trying to do things other than work and sleep. He'd gone to the zoo with Jee a couple times over the past month. He'd gone to Bobby's for dinner. Watched a game at Eddie's place. Met Maddie and Chimney for brunch. He'd even gone over to Hen's one night when she was home alone and they'd gotten hammered while discussing their various traumas.

Every one of these occasions had ended with him in his car, or a cab, sobbing uncontrollably.

But he was trying.

Hen walked up the stairs, a worried expression on her face. “What's up with you?” Chimney asked, first to notice.

“Uh... Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“There's a... a secret service agent here for you.”

All eyes were on her now.

A... a what?”

Before Hen could get in another word, a man in a suit walked up behind her.

Buck stood, recognizing the man right away. It was the same man who had come to his door to let him know about Tommy. His heart sunk. How could this possibly get worse?

“Detective Farrow?”

“Mr. Buckley-Kinard,” he greeted. “It's actually Special Agent Farrow, but you can all me John.”

“I- I don't-”

“I know this is a bit odd,” he continued, “and was not something I actually wanted to do. I was going to hold off until you were home, but he refused to wait another minute.”

“I- what are you talking about? Who?”

The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs interrupted whatever John was about to reply.

Suddenly there was a very familiar, very alive Tommy standing in front of them, smiling brightly at the sight of Buck. “Hi, Evan.”

“Holy shit.” The words escaped Chimney's mouth without him realizing.

Hen followed right after with an, “Oh my God.”

Eddie felt his coffee cup slip from his hand and shatter against the countertop. No one even noticed.

Bobby was standing right beside Buck, thankfully, because he had to quickly reach out and grab onto him before he fell to the ground. He managed to whip a chair around and get Buck seated as he stared, mouth agape, at his husband.

His alive husband.

His breathing husband.

His not-buried-in-the-cemetery husband.

“Evan,” Tommy stepped forward, but Buck held his arm out to stop him.

“What the hell is going on?”

Tommy was confused. Buck sounded angry, and scared. He looked around at all the other faces staring back at him. “Why... Why do you all look like you've seen a ghost?” he asked.

Chimney walked up to Tommy, poking him on the shoulder. “Because you're dead. At least, you're supposed to be.”

Tommy raised his eyebrows. “I'm what?” He turned to John. “Why would they think that?”

John cleared his throat, eyes gazing downward. “There's a lot we need to discuss, Mr. Buckley-Kinard.”

“Why would they think I was dead?” Tommy repeated, angry now.

“Because that's what we were told,” Hen answered.

Tommy stepped closer to John. “You told them I was dead?”

“We couldn't risk anyone knowing-”

“You told my husband I was dead?!”

“-that you were alive. It would have put everyone-”

“And you lied to me to keep me there?!”

“-in danger. It was easier this way.”

“That was not the deal!”

“Everyone shut up!” Buck's voice rang out over the station. He got out of his seat, Bobby keeping a hand near his back until he was sure Buck was steady.

Buck cautiously moved toward Tommy, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “You- You're really here?”

All of the anger Tommy had for John fell away as he looked into Buck's eyes. He nodded. “I'm here. I'm so sorry, Buck, I didn't-”

Buck shook his head, “I- I don't care right now.” He brought a hand up to Tommy's chest. Felt the thump-thump-thump of his heart. The firmness of his chest. He felt up until he reached Tommy's collarbone, poking ever so slightly out from his shirt. Felt the warmth of his skin. The slight dip that led up to his neck that Buck always loved to linger on when they were alone in bed. He felt the roughness of a two day old beard as he felt up his neck and toward his jawbone. “My God.” The words were hushed, breathed out through trembling lips and red-rimmed eyes. He pressed their lips together so quickly, so urgently, that Tommy didn't even have time to register it. He moaned into the kiss, finally reaching out and wrapping his arms around Buck's waist, finding their home at the base of his back.

“Let's give them a minute,” Bobby said, gesturing for everyone to head downstairs.

“I need to brief them,” John replied, earning him a glare from everyone else in the room.

“We're giving them a minute,” Bobby demanded.

John didn't try to protest any further. He simply followed the others downstairs, allowing Buck and Tommy time to reconnect.

“I didn't know,” Tommy began, he and Buck seated on the couch. “I was never told that you thought I was dead.”

“I am so confused, Tommy, I don't... I'm not even sure if this is real, to be honest. Am I dreaming? I haven't... I haven't had a dream since you died. Is that what this is?”

Tommy shook his head. “It's not a dream, Evan.”

“Then what the hell happened?” Buck asked, going from anxious to frustrated, “Cause I'm kinda pissed.”

Tommy scooted closer to Buck, cautiously holding out his hands for Buck to take. There was hesitation, but Buck gave in.

“The night I went to the grocery store, I saw something. I, it was a murder.”

Buck's eyes widened. “A what?”

“Yeah, I know. When I was leaving the store, I went out the back way to avoid all the traffic at the main entrance. It was getting dark, and when I passed by the dumpsters out back I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I- this guy had shot another man. I got a good look at him, and he got a good look at me too, but he ran. I got out of the car, called 911, and tried to help the other guy, but he was dead.”

“I... My brain feels like it's about to explode, Tommy. I don't understand how this leads to me planning your funeral.”

Tears came to Tommy's eyes at the thought. He continued, “The police came first, and they were asking for descriptions and any information I had. Then, the FBI shows up, and the CIA, and suddenly I'm surrounded by agents from every agency that goes by initials. This guy, whoever I saw, was apparently a hitman. A good one. Like, ties to Russia and shit. Anyway, I'm being tossed into a van and told my life's in danger because this guy saw me.”

“This sounds like a really bad cop thriller, Tommy.”

Tommy let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, I know, believe me. But these agents are telling me that I need protection, this man has killed for less before, blah blah blah. They said he'd killed an entire family because the mom had witnessed one of his hits.”

Buck scoffed. “Apparently he's not that good if he keeps getting caught.”

“Evan,” Tommy said, eyes pleading, “they showed me crime scene pictures of what this man had done. Told me he'd do the same to you if I went home. It was... It was horrific.”

“They wouldn't even let you call me? Tell me you were okay? I was- I went through hell these past eight months.”

“They took my phone, said anything electronic was a risk. Said if I declined protection, if I went home to you, I was basically signing your death certificate. But I told them- I told them that I had to let you know something and they said to write you a letter. I wrote one every week. They said they'd deliver it to you.”

“They did not deliver any letters.”

“Yeah, I'm getting that now. Evan, I swear I had no idea they were going to tell you I was dead. No idea.” Tommy clung onto Buck's hands tighter, and Buck couldn't ignore the pang in his chest at having Tommy in front of him. Alive. With him. Beside him. Holding him.

“I believe you.” He was being honest. He did believe Tommy. He knew Tommy would do anything to keep him safe. He also knew Tommy would never agree to making Buck feel the way he had felt for the last eight months. “I am just... I am so confused right now. This all sounds so crazy and over- overwhelming, Tommy. And I really wanna punch that John guy, whoever the fuck he is. And I want-” he cleared his throat, eyes red with unshed tears. “I wanna go home, Tommy.”

Unable to hold himself back any longer, he leaned into Tommy. They met each other halfway, their foreheads pressed together. Buck reached up and cupped Tommy's cheeks, brushing his thumbs against the rough stubble. They closed their eyes and breathed each other in. Buck whispered, “Can we go home?”

John wanted to sit with them and go over everything before they left, but the boiling over rage from the both of them was evident, so he made a plan to speak with them the next day.

After brief hugs and hello's, along with endless apologies to everyone at the 118, Tommy and Buck left.

The ride home was oddly, but comfortably, quiet. Neither were totally sure what to say. Tommy had basically been a prisoner in a safe house for eight months until the FBI found this hitman. Buck had been living in a prison of his own, thinking the love of his life had been burned and buried.

“Home sweet home,” Buck said as they pulled into the driveway. He let go of Tommy's hand long enough for them to get out of the car.

They were interlaced once again as soon as Tommy walked around the Jeep.

Buck needed the touch. Needed to stay connected to Tommy somehow, so he didn't wake up from whatever dream he was in. If this wasn't reality, he wanted to stay wherever it was for the rest of his life.

They walked into the house slowly, Buck a step ahead of Tommy, leading the way.

Once the door was shut behind them, Tommy began looking around.

Everything was... the same. Besides a few of his houseplants being gone, but they never stood a chance in the first place.

Tommy stepped in front of Buck, gave his hand a squeeze before letting go, and continued further into the house.

Buck's body ached at the loss of Tommy's touch, but he let him go. Knew this was overwhelming for him too.

“You kept all my stuff,” Tommy noted, moving into the living room.

“Of course I did.”

“Even though you thought I was-”

“A part of me didn't believe it. I kept telling people that something felt wrong. Everyone said I was in denial; that I'd move on when I was ready.”

“God, this is so fucked up.” Tommy turned to face Buck. The space between them felt as though they might as well be a thousand miles apart. “It's okay if you're mad,” he said. “I understand.”

“I- I am mad,” Buck admitted. He moved closer to Tommy. Everything still felt so surreal. He wasn't even sure if this was actually happening right now. “I don't think I'm mad at you though. I- I'm mad at them.”

“Who?”

There were so many to choose from. “Everyone who took you away from me.”

Tommy nodded. “I'm mad at them too. They wasted eight damn months of my life. Our life.”

Buck cleared any remaining distance between them. He brought his hands to Tommy's waist slowly, dragging his hands up and down his sides, feeling the defined muscles that rested just beneath his shirt.

Tommy sunk into the touch. He watched Buck as he stared at his body. Looked over every inch of him to make sure Tommy wasn't a figment of his imagination.

Tommy brought a hand to Buck's chin, gently tilting his head up until their eyes met. “Can I kiss you?” he asked softly.

Buck sucked in a breath. “Please.”

Tommy brought their lips together gently, both of their bodies shaking with the need to be closer. Feel more.

Buck fisted Tommy's shirt in his hands, pushed their bodies as close as they could go with how they were standing.

Tommy brought his hands to the nape of Buck's neck as the kiss deepened. Their tongues met with a moan, teeth clashing together before Buck pulled back just far enough speak against Tommy's lips. “I don't want to be mad right now,” he whispered like a secret.

Tommy kissed him again. “What do you want?” he asked.

Buck slowly raised Tommy's shirt, just enough to get his hands underneath. He scratched his fingernails down Tommy's abs, causing Tommy to suck in a sharp breath. Chills covered his body.

Buck kissed Tommy's lips, then his cheek, this nipped at his jawline until he reached his ear. “I wanna to fuck you,” he answered.

They clumsily stumbled into the bedroom, stripping themselves of their clothes before falling onto the bed. “You've been working out a lot,” Buck noted between kisses, hands roaming over Tommy's body.

Tommy pressed himself against Buck, their cocks rubbing together, eliciting a groan from them both.

“There was quite literally nothing else to do,” Tommy replied.

Their bodies moved together so perfectly. Just like always. Like they had never been apart at all.

Tommy sucked on Buck's bottom lip, listening to the stunted gasps that escaped him with every thrust.

“You're so fucking beautiful,” Tommy said breathlessly. He bit at a spot on Buck's neck, Buck's hands tangling in Tommy's hair and tugging firmly.

“Tom- Tommy,” he whimpered out. “You gotta. I wanna- You gotta stop,” he managed to get out.

Tommy whined, but stopped his movements. The sound earned him a laugh from Buck. He caressed Tommy's cheek until he looked at him. “Wanna fuck you, remember? Not gonna last long if- if you keep going.”

Tommy nodded. He was seconds away from coming himself. It was easy to get lost in the feeling with Buck. Easy to lose control.

With one swift movement, Buck flipped them so he was on top. He may not have been working out as much as Tommy over the last few months, but he did have a lot of sessions with a punching bag recently, and right now he felt ready to take on the world.

Buck ran his hand over Tommy's chest, let his fingernails drag over his nipple, Tommy arching into the touch. He felt over every ab, traced Tommy's scar, moved down to his stomach. It was all so torturously slow, but so fucking wonderful.

He kissed his way down Tommy's body, stopping at his cock. He stared up at Tommy with heavy lidded eyes as he spit, letting the drool drip down from his mouth onto the head of Tommy's dick. “The first time I touched myself,” Buck said, finally taking Tommy's cock in his hand, dragging his hand up and down leisurely as Tommy's eyes fluttered shut, “after... you know.”

“Mhm.” Tommy managed to open his eyes again, trying to focus on Buck and his words instead of the warm, wet hand gliding over him.

“I had to stop. I tried to- to touch myself the way you always touched me, but I- I couldn't do it.”

“Oh God, Evan.” Tommy fucked himself into Buck's tight fist. He brought their lips together sloppily. “Wanna touch you like that again.”

Buck nodded. “You will,” he promised. “But not right now. Right now I need to be in you.”

“Please.”

Buck let go of Tommy long enough to reach into the bedside table and grab the lube. He put some on, Tommy spreading his legs as Buck reached down and slowly began inserting his finger.

“Ah,” Tommy gasped. He reached up and pulled Buck down for another kiss as Buck slowly pumped his finger in and out.

“You're so tight,” Buck panted into Tommy's mouth.

“Been a while.” Tommy began to grind down against Buck's finger, moaning loudly when it hit the perfect spot.

“Shit,” Buck whined. “You haven't... You didn't?”

“A finger or two.” Tommy planted his feet on the bed, getting better leverage to work himself up and down on Buck. “A- Another, Evan, please.”

Buck obliged, adding another finger along the first, eliciting a string of curses from Tommy.

“Fuck, fuck, fucking shit! It was never the same,” he added quickly, going back to the conversation. “Didn't- God, didn't feel like this. Evan, more!”

Buck silenced a moan with his mouth as he added a third finger, grinding his cock against Tommy's thigh. He knew he wasn't gonna last long. Knew Tommy wouldn't either. It didn't matter though. They had plenty of time to make up for what was lost.

“I- I'm ready. Just... I need-”

“I know.” Another kiss and Buck slipped his fingers out of Tommy. Tommy grabbed the lube from the side of the bed and tossed it in Buck's direction, getting a laugh out of him.

Soon enough, Buck had Tommy's legs on his shoulders and his cock was slowly, slowly, so fucking slowly, entering Tommy.

They stared into each others eyes, Tommy slack-jawed with tiny, breathy grunts escaping him every time Buck inched closer.

After what felt like an eternity, Buck bottomed out. He stilled, breathing heavily. “I gotta. Just. I need a second.”

“S'okay.” Tommy reached out and grabbed for Buck's hands, which were currently gripping Tommy's thighs. “S'okay,” he repeated.

A few seconds later, Buck began to move.

Slowly at first, letting Tommy get used to the feeling again. Hell, letting him get used to the feeling again.

“Ev- ah- Evan?”

“Yeah?”

“I- ah- I. I need-”

“What? What do- do you need?”

“Oh shit!" Tommy yelled as Buck snapped his hips forward. "Fuck me, Evan!”

That was all Buck needed to hear. He pushed himself up slightly, to get a better position, and began moving faster, faster, faster, harder, harder, harder. Each thrust pulled a new sound out of Tommy. Low, guttural groans.

The sound of their skin slapping together, the feeling of the sweat covering their bodies, the heat between them, the desperation over all they thought they'd lost.

It was too much.

“Evan, I- I'm gonna come.” He'd never been able to come untouched before. Always needed a hand on his cock to get there. Not this time though. He came with a sound so loud, Buck was sure the neighbors at the other end of the street could hear.

Tommy's legs dropped off of Buck's shoulders, but he quickly wrapped them around his back to make sure he didn't go anywhere.

“Tommy,” Buck gasped, each movement now with far less rhythm. “Tommy, i- is this real?”

Tommy pulled Buck closer, his fingernails digging into Buck's back. He moaned as Buck drove in deeper. “It's- I'm real,” he managed to breathe out. “I'm here, Evan.”

Buck groaned loudly, mouth pressed close to Tommy's ear, coming deep inside him. After a couple lighter, gentler thrusts, Buck stopped. He practically dropped all his body weight on top of Tommy. Tommy kept his legs wrapped tightly around him. Neither could seem to let the other go just yet.

Buck hid his head into Tommy's neck. “I missed you so much,” he whimpered out, both men trying to catch their breath. Tommy could feel the wetness of Buck's tears on his neck. “God, I- I missed you.”

Tommy brought his hands to Buck's head, carding his fingers through his hair. “I missed you every damn second of every damn day,” he replied.

After they cleaned up, Buck curled back into Tommy, intertwining their bodies at every point he could manage. Tommy wrapped Buck into his arms, and Buck laid his head on Tommy's chest. They laid in silence for a while, allowing themselves to feel and be felt for the first time in so long.

Buck was the first to break the silence, letting the words fall out like a secret admission. “John came to the house the day after you went missing. They... They said your car had been in an accident. That you, um, that it had caught on fire w- with you inside.”

Tommy's body stiffened underneath him. “Baby, if... if I'd known-”

“I know,” Buck assured him. He ran his hand up and down over Tommy's chest until he relaxed again. “I know it wasn't you.”

“I'm gonna ask John if he still has my letters,” Tommy said.

“You really wrote me letters?” Buck asked, stealing a glance up at Tommy.

“Mhm. I'm sure they all thought I was an absolute idiot, especially seeing as it was all a lie, but yeah, every week.”

Buck pressed a kiss to Tommy's pec before lying back down. “I hope they exist somewhere. I'd love to read them.”

“They were really fucking depressing. Turns out I don't handle being without you very well.”

“Oh, you should've seen me.” Buck traced circle patterns along Tommy's chest. “This was the first month I started trying. Trying to get back out and do things with people... I'm glad I don't have to try anymore.”

“That's probably something we should talk about, especially with our jobs.” He snuggled further under the covers, wrapping Buck even tighter in his arms. “Not tonight though.”

“No, not tonight,” Buck agreed.

They still had a lot to talk about. A lot of things that had to be sorted. Questions that needed answers. Issues that would need to be resolved.

But, for tonight, the only thing they needed was each other.

Each other, and the first good night's sleep for them both since the day Tommy disappeared.

That night, once sleep took over, Buck dreamt.

[bluewave-semi]

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[surftechinc]

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[queenshelby]

The Peaky Role (Part Six)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Dad's Friend, Best Friend's Dad

Over the days that followed your intimate scene with Cillian, the distance between you and Cillian suddenly felt heavy, like a fog settling after a rain.

You did not have any scenes together over the next two days, and each time you caught a glimpse of him, a subtle shift in his demeanor tugged at your mind.

Cillian would smile at you still, but something lingered behind those deep blue eyes, a hesitation you couldn't decipher.

Every time you crossed paths, he glanced away, returning to his work like you were a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. It was almost like he was trying to avoid you and you did not know why.

Cillian kept his distance from you during rehearsals, focusing intently on his lines or conversing animatedly with other cast members, drawing a thin veil between you. You respected his need for space, but confusion knotted in your stomach each time you saw him laughing with someone else. His behaviour made you wonder about whether your father and Nina may have been right, that perhaps you working together so intimately would complicate things.

He was your best friend's father and your father's best friend and here you were, filming some intense scenes together.

The lines between professionalism and personal relations, even if innocent, blurred, and you couldn’t shake the thought that maybe the weight of your sudden physical closeness affected him more than you realised.

Maybe he felt weirded out by having to kiss and touch you or maybe he thought that you were overstepping some invisible boundary together by engaging in these acts on screen.

“Hey,” you said one afternoon, spotting him by the services table as he poured a cup of coffee.

He caught your eye but quickly focused on the steaming mug, fiddling with the lid.

“You good?” you ventured, stepping closer, your heart quickening with anticipation.

“Yeah, just, you know…” He took a sip, glancing away. “Busy.”

“Busy or hiding from me?” you teased, attempting to lighten the moment, but his smile barely touched his lips and you quickly regretted the jab.

“Why would I hide from you?” Cillian's voice remained steady, but his eyes darted to the doorway, as if searching for an escape.

"I don't know, maybe because of the last scene?" you suggested while nervously playing with the hem of your shirt. "I mean, it was a little awkward, wasn’t it?”

Cillian set the coffee down with a soft thud and finally turned to you, his expression shifting from a hunter stalking prey back to a familiar, softer gaze.

“So you thought it was awkward?” he pressed gently, gauging your response.

You shrugged, the corners of your mouth twisting into a tentative smile.

“A bit. But I thought we did okay, don't you think?" you asked as Cillian ran a hand through his greying hair before letting out a soft chuckle that warmed the air between you.

“Yes. I think we did too,” he said, his tone shifting, a hint of amusement flashing in his eyes. “But I am not quite sure how our respective families will react when they see the footage.”

You laughed, the tension easing just a fraction. “Yeah, I can only imagine my dad’s face," you continued, shaking your head in disbelief.

Cillian chuckled, a genuine warmth spreading across his features. "I don't think I would want to be in the same room when the scene plays out because, honestly, I didn't realise that it would be so graphic," he said, shaking his head lightly, his expression somewhere between amusement and resignation.

“Did you see the cut already?" you asked with a hint of suprise in your voice, but Cillian shook his head.

“Not cut but, as a producer, I saw the footage," he replied, swallowing the last bits of coffee before leaning against the table, sighing. “I thought it was going to look more like a soft-focus kind of scene, but what was shot really leaves little to the imagination.”

You leaned against the counter, mirroring his casual stance. “I guess it is what it is, right? Just art, doing its thing. You should think too much about it."

Cillian’s lips quirked in a faint smile, but his gaze grew distant as if he were peering beyond the chaos of filming.

“You are probably right but I have known your family for a long time Y/N and I just don't want this or any other scene between us to ruin some longstanding friendships," he continued, his brow furrowing with contemplation.

“Cillian, none of this is going to change anything between us or our families because it was an act and nothing more," you reassured him, focusing on the sharpness of his jawline that reflected the light above you.

“I hope you’re right,” he said before he shifted his weight, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. “Now, I have to go. I am glad we talked though," he said, his voice steady, yet something flickered in his eyes, a hint of vulnerability peeking through his facade.

In Cillian's mind, it was much more than just acting though as, what you did not know, was that, for the past two days he had wrestled with conflicting thoughts.

Cillian's attraction to you felt dangerous yet intoxicating to him, like standing too close to an open flame. The scene of you on top of him had ignited something in him he thought he could control, but it became harder and harder to do.

He turned abruptly, leaving you at the service table, feeling a mix of confusion and lingering warmth. You watched him go, wondering if you’d ever find out what really lingered behind those blue eyes as he slipped away into the crowd of crew members bustling through the set.

The warmth he left behind mingled with an ache of uncertainty, pulling you in different directions but, as the day wore on, you tried to focus on your scenes with the other cast members.

You had to focus and so you did. You finished your last scene for the week at around 5 o'clock and went back to your apartment to pack.

The early evening light filtered through the window as you tossed a few items into your bag—a pair of jeans, a couple of shirts, and essentials and, by around 10 o'clock, you arrived at the airport in Liverpool for you late night flight back to Dublin.

The airport buzzed with activity—a young family juggling bags, a couple bickering over boarding passes, and scattered travelers absorbed in their phones.

You looked for the Air Lingus check-in counter nervously, hating both flying and crowded places like this and, as you navigated the terminal, the familiar pulse of anxiety gnawed at your stomach.

You spotted the Air Lingus check-in counter and approached but, just as you were about to line up, you noticed him.

It was Cillian, standing two counters over, his hands resting lightly on the edge of the counter while he exchanged a few words with the agent, a brief smile flashing across his face as he spoke.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself against the wave of nerves that surged through you.

“Cillian!” you called out, your voice cutting through the chatter of the airport.

He turned, his smile fading briefly, replaced with a look of surprise.

“Y/N!” he said as you joined him at the counter, the moment of unexpected connection releasing some of the tension that had built over the last few days.

“Guess we’re on the same flight," you said, shrugging as you tried to calm your nerves.

"Looks like it," he replied, his voice hesistant as you were called to the check-in counter next to his.

“Just my luck,” you said, forcing a light laugh as you handed over your papers to the agent, who checked your ticket with a distracted nod.

As the woman typed away on her computer, you stole another glance at Cillian and the way his brows knit together in concentration as he finalised his check-in at the neighbouring counter.

“Do you want to sit together?” the agent asked, glancing between you and Cillian with a raised brow.

Cillian hesitated, an almost imperceptible shift in his posture.

“It’s not necessary,” he said quickly, speaking at the same time as you, not matching your enthusiasm.

“Yes!” you blurted out, the eagerness escaping before you could filter it.

Cillian paused, his eyes widening slightly as the agent glanced between you two, a smile creeping onto her face.

“Yes or no?" she then asked as she leaned closer, waiting for a decision.

“Yes,” Cillian finally conceded, his lips twisting into a reluctant smile. "If that is no trouble."

The agent nodded and worked her magic on the keyboard. “There you go, seats 22A and 22B. Enjoy the flight!”

“Thanks,” you said, grateful for the small victory as you grabbed your boarding pass, the bright letters practically glowing in your hand.

Cillian fell into step beside you as you made your way toward the security line, his posture relaxed but eyes scanning the terminal with the ease of someone used to the attention that surrounded him.

Luckily for you both however, no one bothered to approach him for a photograph or an autograph, allowing you a few precious moments of quiet.

Eventually, and following some awkward silence between you, you arrived at the gate where people settled into their seats, a blend of chatter and the rustle of bags filling the air.

You found a place against the wall, leaning on the cool surface as you looked over at Cillian, who stood accross from you and put his way too expensive bag down by his feet. He removed his jacket, folding it over his arm with practiced ease, revealing a black t-shirt that perfectly matched his torn jeans.

"What have you been listening to?" you asked, watching him put his headphones away with a casual grace.

"As surprising as it may be, I've been on a bit of a Beatles kick lately," he replied, glancing your way, eyes softening at the casual conversation.

“Really? Which album?” You leaned in, intrigued as the atmosphere lightened between you.

“Rubber Soul,” he said, his voice steady, yet there was a flicker of excitement in his eyes. “I find there’s something poetic about it."

“It's totally underrated ,” you agreed, nodding enthusiastically. “The lyrics are so alive, like they really force you to think about relationships in a different way.”

"Come on, you listen to music that old?" he teased, a hint of disbelief dancing in his eyes. "Aren't girls your age more into whatever music is trending on, I don't know, Tik Tak?" he asked, causing you to laugh out loud.

"Tik Tak?" you chuckled, shaking your head. “You really need to update your references. It’s TikTok, not Tik Tak! And yes, I can appreciate good music regardless of the age of the tunes. A timeless song is a timeless song,” you said, crossing your arms, a playful defiance lighting your features.

Cillian raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “Well, you’ve got taste, I’ll give you that,” he said, his voice drifting as he leaned against the wall, mimicking your stance and crossing his arms, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips just as, finally, the boarding call came through the intercom, breaking the levity.

“Now boarding for Flight 232 to Dublin,” the voice announced, echoing through the somewhat sterile airport space.

Sitting not far from the front, you found your seats rather quickly and, just as a gentleman would, Cillian offered you the winow seat.

“Please, by all means,” he said, gesturing toward the window, his expression a mixture of chivalry and teasing.

"No thanks. You take it," you insisted, giving him a nervous smile.

"Are you sure?" He scrutinized your face, searching for any hint of insincerity.

“Absolutely,” you replied, nodding firmly which is when he realised that you were anxious.

He studied you for a moment, concern flickering in those piercing blue depths. “You really don’t like flying, do you?”

You swallowed hard, fingers fidgeting with the edge of your seatbelt. “No, not at all. I’ve always hated it. The noise, the cramped space—it feels like being trapped in a metallic coffin.”

Cillian chuckled softly, but his eyes remained serious as the cabin crew prepared for take-off and, eventually, proceeded towards the runway.

“Just breathe,” he said, turning his body slightly to face you, his expression shifting to something softer.

“Focus on your breathing,” he repeated, his voice weaving through the murmurs of other passengers settling in. “In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

"Jesus, you sound like my dad when he gives one of these meditation classes," you said, trying to stifle a laugh, though the anxiety still knotted in your stomach.

Cillian’s lips quirked, his expression softening. “I may have attended a few of them," he admitted, a playful glint in his eyes. “The man thinks that breathing exercises can solve everything. But you know what? They actually help sometimes.”

As the plane began to taxi, the cabin shook slightly, the vibrations sending a jolt up your spine.

You squeezed the armrests, feeling the familiar surge of nerves clawing at your stomach.

“Just focus on me,” Cillian said, his voice cutting through the swirling chaos around you. “Talk to me about anything. Just keep your mind off the flight.”

“I don’t know what to talk about,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, the weight of the plane’s movements making your heartbeat quicken and, when the plane finally began its ascent, the sensation of lifting off the ground squeezed the air out of your lungs.

“Anything at all. What’s your favorite movie?” Cillian prompted, leaning slightly closer, his breath brushing over your ear but, what you did next, suprised him.

You grasped his hand, fingers curling around his warm palm, seeking comfort in the pressure of his grasp.

“Y/N?” Cillian blinked, caught off guard as he felt your grasp wrap around his hand, his breath hitching slightly.

“Sorry,” you murmured, embarrassment flushing your cheeks as you glanced at him. “It just…helps. I hate this part and I don't want to talk, okay? Not right now," you told him and Cillian nodded slowly, his expression shifting from surprise to understanding.

He wrapped his fingers gently around yours, steady and reassuring, creating a small oasis of calm amidst the chaos swirling around you.

“It's alright," he replied, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a steady rhythm that felt oddly soothing.

The plane continued to climb, the cabin settling into a more stable altitude, but you still clutched his hand as if it were a lifeline in a tumultuous sea.

Once the initial turbulence passed, the sound of the engines settled into a steady roar, a low hum vibrating through the cabin.

“See? Nothing to worry about,” Cillian said, a calmness threading through his voice, the warmth in his grip anchoring you.

You nodded, but your eyes remained fixed on the screen in front of you.

The screen flickered with safety instructions, and you tried to focus, but your breathing came in quick bursts.

"Sshh, it's okay," Cillian said softly, squeezing your hand slightly. “You are going to be okay!"

You felt a warmth radiate from his palm, grounding you as the cabin ambiance began to calm, the chaotic whirring fading into a dull background.

“I’m fine,” you managed to say though the tremor in your voice betrayed your bravado.

"You sure about that?" Cillian raised an eyebrow, a hint of mischief glinting in his eyes as he glanced over at you , his voice laced with gentle teasing.

“Okay, maybe not entirely fine,” you admitted, biting your lower lip as you struggled between the flicker of embarrassment and the absurdity of the situation. “But you holding my hand helped a little.”

Cillian chuckled, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he let the warmth of the moment settle between you.

“Then I’ll keep holding it,” he replied, his voice low and steady like the rhythm of the engines and he kept up his word, holding your hand for the entire and, luckily, short flight.

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[ashlynnlylim]

Jimmy, back on earth

- Just a depressed sad sack of shit.

- Was jobless until Curly dragged him aboard interstellar delivery service.

- He spent most of his time sleeping in his apartment, either on the couch or the mattress on his bedroom floor. The cushions and futon were worn thin from years of excessive use.

- His apartment was shabby, in a weird part of town. Poor, that's it.

- He doesn't have a car; everything he needed was within walking distance anyways: convinience store, grocer, bank, whatever.

- He doesn't know a lot of people either, or like them. He finds it hard to deal with human connections. He can't be bothered with it.

- He wrecks stuff when he gets mad or annoyed. He's a physical and aggressive human. That's why his apartment is constantly in a state of disorder, musty and dark and suffocating.

- He smokes a lot and doesn't leave the windows (or curtains) open.

- He skips meals regularly, either to save money or just because he doesn't feel like putting up with it. That's why he's a skinny little bitch. He's not anorexic, though.

- Usual foods include: bread, chips and a lot of other junk food, mac and cheese, coffee, cigarettes.

- Sometimes, just to sleep through the most awful days, he swallows down sleeping pills like candy and sinks into the couch for nights on end.

- He used to cut himself but as he got older (mid 30s) he resented it because it was "girls' stuff" and made him feel like a sissy. Now he just punches walls and slams himself against cabinets, like a real man does :D

- He passes the endless time he possesses by watching the same five films over and over again, reading, or jacking off. He probably has a decent stash of good porno mags.

- He ejaculates at least once every three days.

- Sometimes Curly visits, to check up on him and make sure he's still alive. He sees Curly's concern and disdain towards his conditions of living as mockery and arrogance, and so hates it sometimes. He does like Curly's company, though. After a week of muteness, it's nice to be able to converse again.

- He likes going to Curly's a lot more. The latter's place was a lot more pleasant, more healthy. His jealousy grates against his conscience sometimes, though.

Alright, that's all I have for now.

[mywritingonlyfans]

Red Carpet // Alex Turner X fem!Reader (Fluffly/Smut).

words: 4,2K.

prompt: Alex being extremely supportive of Reader at her first premiere!

warnings: It's primarily fluff, but the smut is found in the last part, after the... endings!

You took a deep breath from time to time, feeling your hands cold and clammy as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Indeed, you felt beautiful. You thought the voluminous dress was a bit over the top, but it was as perfect for the occasion as a dream coming true. "What do you think?" Alex had already given his honest opinion more than once, yet he would repeat it as many times as necessary. "It's just that I've finished my makeup now." You bit your lips, earning a disapproving look from your makeup artist (yes, it was that fancy!). "They're durable, but not that much." She shook the red tube, making you understand with regret.

 Alex laughed, touching his thumb gently over your lip, you laughed at that and he showed you his clean finger before holding your chin and giving you a long peck.

Amid the hurried sounds of packages being put away, you saw your new friend roll her eyes. "You look beautiful, red suits you." His caramel eyes were calm and had a slight sparkle. You hated making him be there with you, even though he said he didn't mind. Your hand squeezed his arm, the velvety texture of his cream suit easing your worries, and you kissed your forehead. "Everythin' will be fine, I'll be there with you, lil’ one." He stroked your back, admiring your dress that matched the color of his suit; a sweet smile spreading at the corners of his lips.

 Watching you clinging to him, he noticed your restless hand fiddling with the chain around your neck. He briefly missed having your palm under his shirt until your fingers found the necklace against his skin, with you pinching the thin metal until you calmed down. However, he knew he had made a good choice in giving it to you.

 He brushed your hair away from your face, aligning it between his fingers as you closed your eyes at his touch, resting your cheek better against his chest. Soon, you hesitated, and before he could question it and you could see the fabric stained with foundation or whatever was on your face, you heard a distant voice, ready to leave, "Don't worry, it won't transfer. Enjoy your man." You and Alex both thanked her, your face burning. And as his body embraced yours in a hug, you felt lighter; at least for a few more minutes.

....

 The day was beautiful, with the warm sun and the cooler breeze, even though your body was completely cold. Alex held your waist, occasionally looking at your face and hands to make sure you were alright. It wasn't his favorite setting, but he was happy for you, so proud that it made the situation seem commonplace. His initial idea was to leave you on the red carpet for photos and then wait for you until the interviews were over; he wouldn't take the spotlight from your day. It was expected that if he were by your side, questions meant for you and the film would soon turn to him or the band. But seeing your dazed look and restless breathing, he couldn't go through with it. He knew you could handle it if necessary, but he hated the thought of pushing you into something when he knew your mind was already being cruel enough to you.

 He tightened his fingers around you, sliding them up your back. "You're doing great," he whispered in your ear, smiling comfortably and pressing his lips to your temple. Your posture became less rigid, and with every step, he stayed by your side. You knew he didn't mind, but you wondered if having photos of him there with you might somehow be detrimental to the band.

"Thank you, Al," you said. You didn't feel the need to thank him, but you wanted to show that you appreciated it all. He smiled, his cheeks flushing pink and his nose wrinkling. "At your service, my lady." His accent sounded sharper, and it felt like he was the only one there with you.

Alex heard your name being called, in that repetitive and desperate chorus, "It seems like something I’d do in private, yeah?" You laughed, looking at him with a more relaxed look and he felt satisfied with the comment he made.

You weren't used to this, and seeing you happy with the recognition for your work filled Alex with a sense of lightness.

"How was it working with the director? And your first major role, how's it been?" The question was clear, the shouts had stopped, and everyone seemed intent on listening to you.

Before you could fidget with any part of your skin or dress, he held your hand, warming your cold skin, and you began to respond slowly. Your words were cautious but coherent, and you felt good, aware of Alex's eyes on you. When you finished, you looked at him, smiling, and he nodded with a sweet expression that had been there since you started speaking.

"Are you two headin’ home together? How's the relationship goin’? Any new music on the horizon?" His face turned red, and he thought about ignoring the question but he didn't want to embarrass you. There was a brief pause, hoping for a new question. He shook his head, somewhat apathetically, feeling your thumb caress his. You weren't sure how to handle it either, but you felt fine, even though this wasn't usual or expected. 

"I'm very proud of her; it's a big moment. This night’s all ‘bout her. You should try harder to get more information from her; did you notice she hasn't seen the movie yet? This will be her first time now." Alex spoke pointedly, with deliberate pauses, making the suppressed sound more ironic. He kept any intimacy away from the interviewers. He was brief, nothing more. And his hands never left yours, you thanked him with a gentle squeeze.

You had seen disjointed pieces of the film, but not the whole thing with a beginning, middle, and end. That hadn't happened yet. Fortunately, you got the chance to talk about it. More questions followed once they understood he wouldn't answer any of them. As you gained confidence, your words became louder and clearer without needing repetition. Alex gradually let go of your hand, although his attention remained entirely on you. You felt free to gesture and no longer limited yourself to keeping your feet firmly on the ground. "I'll be nearby, lil’ one," he whispered, squeezing your waist between questions. He stepped away from the cameras but stayed within your view, watching you gracefully discuss your performance.

 He chatted with some of your actor friends during this time. They spoke highly of you, which made him feel comfortable in that unfamiliar environment. Alex couldn't stop looking at you, a goofy smile on his face, and his body relaxed every time you glanced at him and nodded to let him know you were okay. He couldn't remember ever being so happy for someone.

 "I'd suggest you wait for her inside, but you seem comfortable," the director said, amused at how Alex hovered around you, making you feel so good about yourself. "She mentioned you usually downplay big events like this."

 "No, it's not like that..." His voice caught in his throat, but then he saw the director laughing, realizing he wasn't serious. You had shared many stories about him, from how much you loved his work, making Alex watch all his films, to everyday adventures with him; it was clear the question was a joke. "I wouldn't miss this for anything’." He pointed to you, struggling with words but making it clear he needed to be there for this moment.

 "She's talented, Alex. I hope to see you at future events celebrating new films with us." Not in a harmful way, Alex felt a pang of jealousy that others recognized how amazing you were beyond just him; but he understood it was inevitable.

 Your fingers were still wrapped around the chain, stretching it slightly and pressing it against your skin as you moved forward with confidence.

 "I'll be there," he nodded eagerly, biting his lips, returning his attention to how excited you were during the interviews.

...

 You kissed his lips, planting multiple kisses on his cheek before the cinema lights dimmed. He tasted like caramel popcorn, his hand resting on your thigh as yours rested on top of his. Alex's lips and cheeks were tinted with your lipstick, like an additional blush, looking so cute that you couldn't help but amplify it.

 "You have to pretend you enjoyed it for me, even if you didn't," you whispered, laying your head on his chest. He settled more comfortably in the chair, letting you snuggle into him. Your body was killing you.

 "Why wouldn't I enjoy it?" he smiled with an exaggerated intake of breath, stroking your back and then gently caressing your neck. "After all, I'll be seeing you for over 2 hours straight on a huge screen, I see no downsides."

 "With another man," he sniffed, scratching his nose, making you laugh.

  Alex knew the gist of the movie's story; he had asked you to avoid details because he wanted to experience it in the cinema when it was released. You respected that, although some things were inevitably shared. He admired you, and getting there took you time. It was nights and more nights of theater performances that Alex saw you in small venues in different cities; they were all perfect, but he always knew that this was your dream, and experiencing it with you was surreal. Seeing that your effort paid off, and you succeeded, and were genuinely happy about it.

During filming, you spent a lot of time in LA with him. He would pick you up from the recording studio when the shoots ended late at night, and he loved hearing about your day and everything that you learned over dinner until exhaustion hit, and you fell asleep on each other.

Alex was adept at making your busy days lighter, sometimes you worried about not being good enough for all that, and he’d be there for you. He was certain that you were born for it. But his point was, you always believed in him. During the recording of the last album, you waited up late for him to come home, even if it was just to hug him before bed. Countless nights were spent listening to his musings while you were tired from your own performances and lines to memorize, yet you were there for him completely. Though he never measured words to express it, he felt like he was finally being for you what countless times, effortlessly, you had been for him. And not out of obligation but genuine sentiment; he hated the thought of letting you down. He loved you so much, he just wanted to see you well. Seeing you achieve your dreams made him feel fulfilled too.

 "Al, babe," you delicately brushed your fingers over his eyelashes, kissing his nose afterwards. "Why’re you cryin’?" You hugged him. He squeezed you in a full and complete embrace. He nestled his face into your shoulder, comforted by your scent as your fingers traced his neck. It was not a desperate cry, but his face had gained a rosy blush, and up close, his eyes were filled with tears.

"I'm proud of you, babe. It was a great film, you did an incredible job." He saw your posture soften as he held your face. Alex wasn't so vocal, though he showed well how much he admired you, but hearing that filled in loose pieces you didn't even know you had. You smiled widely, understanding because you felt the same way when he finished an album after so much work. "I'm so happy to see your progress, you're so talented." He kissed your cheek, brushing away what could have been tears.

 "Al, love. You're starting to sound like a coach, you can stop now," your hand rested on his chest, and he lightly slid his fingers down your back. You sounded emotional, and he could see himself repeating that more often. "I love you."

 "I love you too, my movie star." You smiled against his suit, making him hold you tighter.

 The rest of the event went well. Alex held a glass of water that you sipped from occasionally, wearing his sunglasses and smoking a cigarette. He stood away from the red carpet, but yes, you felt his eyes on you even with the dark lenses as an obstacle. You had to stop for some more photos, posing alone and with the director and then actors. Finally, you pulled Alex close for a session of awkward photos of you hugging him tightly while he looked disoriented about what to do. "I need you in my records," you smiled, kissing his cheek, already looking forward to seeing them later. It was only a few minutes, but you knew it would generate a lot of photos.

 "I know you don't like it, but I couldn't resist," as soon as he heard the phrase, he continued, with a heaviness in his chest. "I do not mind, I just want to avoid interfering your professional image with mine," he was going to keep going, but he saw your playful smile and rolled his eyes at you. "Sorry for makin’ a joke ‘bout it, I get it, babe. I like how you take care of me." His carefree shoulders mirrored your joy.

 After the event, Alex lets you walk a few steps ahead of him, still keeping an eye on you. He headed straight for the van, avoiding glances and photos. You thanked those who had waited on the sidelines for so long, not a crowd, but it surprised you that there were people there for the movie, which was still so recent and unseen. The director might be famous, but you weren't. There was a girl with a pink sign for you; she was excited, happy to talk to you, and it was one of the cutest things that had ever happened to you; she knew about your works that you didn't even remember so well. You thanked her, signed a few more autographs, and got a comment or two about how cute you and Alex were. "Is that the necklace he was wearing?" You agreed, wishing you could get to the hotel and see everything on the news feeds; photos and reviews, even if they could be bad.

 Getting into the van, feeling your frozen nose, Alex greeted you with a confident side smile, as if to say "you deserve this and much more" with his blazer ready to warm you up. You snuggled into the thick fabric, somewhat numbed by the moment. Your fingers sought the necklace around your neck, like an amulet. "Did you see the sign?" You asked, as Alex pointed outside, ready to ask the same question. Even though he had seen it himself, he didn't mind hearing you recount what had just happened in your own words. You looked at him, radiating happiness. Alex still had rosy cheeks from your lipstick, his eyes shining every time they met yours; you liked how he appreciated that along with you; even though there were events and people who admired him everywhere he went. He was familiar with all that, unlike you.

"That's so cool," you said, sounding like someone describing a brief dream. He held your face, with teary eyes and strands of hair falling onto his forehead, embracing every word you said. "I can't believe I'm dating a movie star." This prompted you to throw yourself into his arms in more cozy laughter against his chest.

...

 You tighten your robe to watch them on the screen. Alex was receiving room service; you had ordered pizza and some beers to end the night. Your back was aching, but the remaining adrenaline did a good job of easing that. The entire progression of everything felt so perfect.

 "Did he give you the necklace?" That question had been asked a few times by different people, each time bringing back memories of the previous night when Alex had taken the metal chain off his neck and put it on yours. You remembered every time you felt overwhelmed and your reaction to Alex comforting you by wrapping his arms around you was to play with the necklace until you were distracted by his body warmth; you were aware that you did this, just as you understood that Alex did too. So when you questioned why he was giving it to you to wear and he simply said it looked good on you, you didn't dwell on it. "When was this?" Her voice was sweet, her eyebrows curious. You felt embraced by the people who loved Alex, and that meant a lot to you.

"Yes, it was yesterday, I think," you smiled, holding the chain between your fingers.Your confusion was evident, her reaction was unexpected for just a necklace. She brought David over, who took the moment to congratulate you, and even before Penny could say anything, he commented on it as well with a sweet look. You dared to say they seemed happier with this topic than with the movie itself.

 They asked questions about the event, when they could watch the movie, and they listened graciously. Alex joined you with, "I still can't believe I'm dating a renowned movie star, doesn't seem fair." And although you wanted to comment on that, such words left you speechless. He sounded genuine and proud, you couldn't take that away from him, even though the statement itself didn't make much sense since he was much more famous than you. The conversation took its course towards the end with you leaning on Alex's shoulder, smelling his post-shower scent. You thanked them once again, just as they always thanked you for taking care of Alex, adding a knowing wink. "I'm happy for you two, darlings!" And Alex seemed to understand perfectly what that meant.

 His hair was still dripping water, the robe was looser than usual, you liked this intimate side of him that only you had access to. "You look beautiful," he glanced at you as he gathered the remaining pizza packages and disposed of them. Alex was certain that you were perfect for him, even knowing that as tired as you were, you would never get rid of that mess before going to bed, and that would irritate him, but he also didn't mind doing it or ever thought of changing you. You didn't say anything, just stared at him for a while longer, aware that your hair was a mess and the poorly removed glitter was still on your face.

 "What's the real story of the chain?"  You whispered, climbing on top of him once he laid down next to you.  The same bright, tenuous caramel eyes on you and the goofy smile that always appeared when you stared at him for too long.  

 You kissed his lips, moving a little down his chin and sloppily to his neck.  You shove your nails on his arms, just as his fingers tightened around your waist.  "Huh?"  He laughed, his face gaining color as you placed yourself on his chest. 

"I like how it looks on you."  He sounded breathless at your touch.  Your fingerprints entered his robe, making it wider and the hair more agitated.  You were pleased with his reaction. “I thought you were tired?” His thick sleepy accent made you a bit drunk;  maybe you were both a little tipsy.

You tightened your legs around him, he rubbed your thighs and pulled your hips deeper onto him.  And God, you could feel him, getting heavy and ready for you.

You sighed deeply, your lungs full.  He was tired too, the dark circles under his eyes were more pronounced and he was gently running his hand through his hair.  "Fuck, Alex. You're so fuckable."  He ended up laughing in a way that was inappropriate for the moment, but so usual for you. 

You rubbed against him more, nibbling on his shoulder.  His skin was so soft and fragrant, it was impossible not to bite down hard.  That made him pull your hair harder, releasing a sharper moan from your lips.  You wanted to taste him so badly, feel him in the back of your throat and be aware of his entire length.  But it was difficult to sit still, your body refused. 

His face was warm, it was comfortable to have him touch you in the same way you contemplated him.  Your palm snuggled against his size, pumping him until he was no longer shy in your hand and then he sank his fingers into you, making himself more than certain that you were dripping.  You only realized that you weren't wearing the robe anymore when his fingertips circled your excited nipple, leaving them messy for his mouth. He bit and sucked your sensitive skin gracefully, tasting you as he wanted.

You couldn't help it, closing your eyes and letting yourself fall onto the bed.  It was like medicine. Alex knew you so well, the same good pressure and spaced nibbles and licks as you were used to.  Your hand rested on the back of his head, pulling him closer and giving light tugs.  He sighed as if he was savoring you, it was so good;  as well as briefly opening your eyes and seeing his closed as he pushed his nose into your skin in search of more of your body. 

 "Lay down for me, lil' one."  He asked, his voice breaking.  His lips were redder than normal and his hair was a mess. He understood that you were tired, but he couldn't ignore how your legs twitched around nothing. 

 With your eyes closed, you lay on your side, waiting to feel his warm body fit with yours.  He draped the blanket over you, making you cuddle up to him.  “Today was really busy, I see you’re out of energy, doll. He whispered so close to your ear that it made you moan over something so minimal.  

 You wanted him so much, and he knew it, that's why he dragged on.  You joined your hips to his and he held you to him by your waist, not doing anything properly about it.  "Al, please. It's my day, remember?"  You whined a little.  

 He chuckled, kissing your skin and leaving teeth marks as he slowly filled you.  Taking his time to savor every tiny noise of yours. Your moan was one of relief, feeling him on your stomach, comforting you.  "My girlfriend’s just so busy now, with her movie star life and photos and interviews. I have to enjoy these moments, right?"  He spoke between grunts, his words weak. 

 You laughed a bit, quietly enjoying that, managing to bite his arm that was surrounding you and muffled your sounds.  "You're so amazing and hot."  He fed the seed in you more.  His body weighed down on yours as you gripped the sheets tightly. 

 "I want to feel you, please."  You whimpered.  He held your body tighter, feeling the warm necklace mark your skin and his as your head fall onto his shoulder.  As soon as he warmed you up, emptying himself into you, his fingers worked precisely until you squirmed in your release. 

 More kisses were placed on your back, your feet were intertwined with his and without a doubt you wouldn't leave there anytime soon.  His chin fit on your shoulder, and you sighed lightly, returning to normal breathing as your fingers joined his and pinched the chain until everything became less intense.

 "I guess your parents don't think your necklace just looks good on me, not that I can explain."  Your back didn't hurt anymore, and although you were about to sleep, you knew that you would wake up in the middle of the night and that session would repeat itself in the early hours of the morning, even more sleepy and the two of you even more surrendered to the moment – and you loved it.  

 Alex also had this in mind, he would usually wake up first and pull you towards him, until it was unbearable for you to feel him swollen and hot for you and do nothing about it.

 "It's kind of a tradition,” at this point neither of you could even pretend to have the energy to keep your eyes open.  "The necklace runs in the family, it belonged to my uncle before it came to me, we pass it on to someone we like and then we hope that person does the same."  he said it casually, like it was no big deal.  You didn't imagine it, but you liked it.  "Do you think I'm that important?"  You knew the answer.  You wanted to know what to say, but you had no way to express anything;  as if nothing was enough.  He wrapped you up better in the blanket and he felt pleased to see your cute and happy smile about to fall asleep for good.

He hoped he could live many more days like this with you.  Seconds before he could visit you in his dreams, you murmured, "It's reciprocal, Al."  In a way that was so yours, making him always so sure of everything. 

...

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[freakyficsforfuglyvillains]

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Proposition

Maxime Le Mal x fem! Reader

(Implied Valentina x Reader)

(Note: I have not seen the film yet)

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The catering company you work for has been dispatched to some highschool reunion. You think it’s weird that such an event would even require catering. But, as you step into the bustling auditorium, you realise this is no run-of-the-mill reunion.

An infamous jewel-thief you recognise from the news casually walks by. Everywhere you look, there are criminals and crooks. One of your coworkers, Craig, comes up to you and elbows your ribs.

“Stay alert, the boss doesn’t want any of us starting trouble.”

Craig suddenly falls quiet and peers into the crowd. Something has apparently caught his attention.

“Speaking of trouble,” he mumbles. “There’s some guy making a beeline for you. Good grief! What is he wearing?”

You turn around. A man in a gaudy, knee-length puffer jacket approaches. A woman —his partner, you assume— dressed in an equally kitschy outfit lags behind him carrying a small, white dog. You turn back around to ask Craig who they are, but he has seemingly vanished into thin air. Just your luck.

“Enchanté!” exclaims the strange man.

You notice he has a name-tag pinned to his coat. Maxime.

You swallow your terror and slap on your best “customer-service” grin.

“Hello, folks! Can I interest you in one of our hors d’ouvres?” you chirp, presenting him with your platter of assorted cured meats. Maxime briefly glances down at the platter, then he nudges it aside.

“You are… much too kind!” he chuckles. “But, we are not here for finger-food.”

A chill runs down your spine. Were they about to rob you? Considering their professions, it would hardly be out of the realm of possibility.

“I don’t have anything worth stealing,” you blurt.

This time, both of them laugh. Even the dog cradled in the woman’s arms lets out a “yip!” of amusement.

“You see, Valentina? She recognises us!” says Maxime, grinning.

“You sound surprised,” replies Valentina.

“Sorry, but were you actually going to—?”

“Oh, no!” Maxime exclaims. “We only wanted to ask you a question.”

An eccentric couple approaches you under the guise of “asking you a question.”

There’s only one scenario where that usually happens.

“Is it a personal question?” you ask.

“It might be.”

“Okay. Well, go ahead.”

“Are you single?”

“Yes?” You laugh nervously. Oh, this is really happening, isn’t it?

“I see.”

Maxime can hardly contain his excitement. He steps closer.

“What if I told you we could change that?”

“You mean…?” You gesture to Maxime and then to Valentina. “Both of you?”

“But, of course!” Maxime takes your hand and pulls you towards him. “How does the saying go? The more the merrier.”

He brings your hand to his lips.