#this is about the lax airport

[bonesturntohoney]

any unattended bæggaege will be subject to confiscation

[lobotomy-lady]

my cousin has a strong fear of being attacked by a sharks & he was talking about how he's never gonna swim in the ocean ever again & I was like "that's silly, there's 1 fatal shark attack every other year in the US & only around 15 per year in the entire world. unless you're an australian surfer your chances are basically zero" & he was like "hm. fascinating. now tell me about the plane crash stats" -_-

[theresa-of-liechtenstein]

my first and only graduate school admitted students' visit was a success in that it helped me make up my mind. but maybe not in the way that people expected.

readers of this blog will know that i have a slightly complicated relationship with Institution B (the school i was visiting). but to make a long story short, four years ago, i was convinced that i would be enrolling there for undergrad. i had grown up there; for most of my life, the thought of 'what if we had never been priced out of living there' has haunted our family. we went to the area to visit old friends often when i was a kid, and four years ago, i saw going to Institution B as a sort of homecoming. however, my current, home institution unexpectedly awarded me an extremely large scholarship, and i wound up enrolling at the start of the pandemic.

it was not at all what i had wanted, and i felt a little embarrassed about it because some people i knew had considered it 'less prestigious' than Institution B. four years later, with a greater degree of awareness, i'm pretty sure i can pinpoint a bit of the underlying cause of that. my home institution is significantly more ethnically and economically diverse than Institution B. despite being older than Institution B, my home institution does fall behind because it lacks the endowed immediate surrounding area that Institution B has.

from the minute i stepped onto Institution B's campus, i felt it. Institution B's department sees itself as a 'big brother' to my home institution. many of Institution B's faculty work collaboratively with faculty from my home institution. it seemed like to them, me moving to Institution B was the obvious choice to make.

i interviewed with three professors: Professor A (who the grad students warned me was an advisor who could potentially break a student, but had many connections and could set me up), Professor B (the supervisor of the graduate student buddy i was assigned for the duration of the visit) and Professor C (contacted me in january but i never got around to reaching out)

Professor A (who i met with first) revealed that he was on the advisory board for the matsci program of my home institution. he also asked me what my research background was, and when i started enthusiastically going into it, literally put his hand up, interrupted me, and said "hold on. ✋🏻😐" which was genuinely so embarrassing. i wanted to jump out of a window. he asked me if i was considering any other options, and when i truthfully said i was considering staying, he bluntly said it was a poor idea.

Professor B revealed that not only had he recently given a seminar presentation at my home institution, he had literally gone out for dinner with my capstone mentor/PI on his visit and spoke positively of the city. he was a little awkward, but seemed very supportive and my graduate student babysitter had nothing but positive words about him.

Professor C had genuinely surprising research, and when i pointed out a few things with the projects he showed me (it had to do with phase transformations, but since i've just taken the class the concepts were fresher in my head) he was absolutely ecstatic. his enthusiasm for me asking questions about the manuscript was genuinely endearing. he also very eagerly mentioned that he intentionally made sure that half of his group were women.

speaking of which, i was the only woman in attendance among the potential incoming students. there were other women already in the phd program, but not very many. i didn't feel uncomfortable, but i did get the sense that the guys in my potential cohort didn't really know how to deal with me at first. i did feel at times that i was like the diversity hire, and my interests beyond matsci were so dissimilar to everyone else's that i just really wasn't sure how to connect. but then again, story of my life lmao.

i spent more time talking to the current grad students, who were all genuinely so hospitable and kind and looked out for me. however, something i didn't like was their constant conversation about alcohol. it wasn't that they weren't serious about their research: plenty of research stories got passed around and students had received various fellowships and grants. but many of them were drinking excessively at the social events. no one pressured me to join, but being the only totally sober person at the table was a little uncomfortable.

the second night was spent at the chair's house for a party with many of the faculty we had been interviewing that day. two things of note occurred.

one, i found myself next to one of the admits and Professor A, who asked us if we had seen the transmission electron microscopes (TEM) during our facilities tour. off our answers to the negative (we'd run out of time) he was like 'give me ten minutes and i'll drive you to campus and show you' which is where i got the picture from that one post taken. (Professor A offered.) he was very much under the influence and probably should not have been driving, and nearly made me carsick on the way back to the chair's house from his abrupt hard braking. i thought i was gonna die but tbh, it was worth seeing some of the largest microscopes i had ever seen in my whole life. so basically, a professor kidnapped me and two other guys and almost killed us with his atrocious driving. which is not the weirdest thing i've ever done with faculty but that's a post for tomorrow morning.

two, i found myself conversing with a professor who had moved to Institution B from my home institution a few years before. when i told him i was considering between the universities, at first, he said something like 'speaking as someone who's moved from [home institution] to Institution B...' and gave me a knowing look. use your words like an adult for god's sake. he then asked me my current faculty mentor and commented on his research a bit, then asked, 'who would be your PI at [home institution]?' i told him, and he said, 'oh! well, then,' sent me another knowing look, and said 'well, whatever you choose...' as if name dropping had changed something. again, man, please don't be cryptic.

i think all in all, even though Institution B was trying very hard to sell themselves to me, and posit themselves as a school of diversity and inclusion, i still felt isolated in a way i didn't feel when i was undergoing the process of interviewing faculty in my home institution in my grad school search. i felt out-of-place and terrified of making the wrong impression. some things people were saying to me went straight out of the window because i was trying so hard to monitor my facial expressions and fidgeting. i truly felt like i had a mask on and was trying not to let it slip. also, being the first in my family to go for a phd made me feel like there were so many unwritten, unspoken rules that i was just breaking irreversibly.

i can't help but compare this part of the experience to the professor in whose lab i'd be at my home institution. even though i had had her for a class, i had never interacted with her at length since the class was a little big. but i had also impressed her, and she had wanted to hear from me. i felt like i could relax around her, and our energies matched so well. she brought up me staying in orchestra even before i did, whereas i didn't feel like i could admit to any of the other professors that i wanted to also pursue music. it was nothing like the interviews i had had at Institution B.

something my grad student buddy had told me about was how he had done both his B.S. and M.S. at one institution, but decided to move for the Ph.D. i wondered why, since the program at his old home institution has been world-renowned. and he told me that if he had stayed, he would have still felt like an undergrad.

and i think that helped me to solidify how i felt into words. i don't feel like i'm undergrad anymore. it's been like that since mainly winter term of my third year. i still feel like there is work to be done and a need to be filled. i've mentally graduated already. there are days i walk across campus and i feel like a graduate student already. sometimes even a professor. it's strange, i can't explain it fully and even seeing that out feels so pretentious. but it's the best i can do to verbalize it.

i think the best image with which i can sum up this experience is of me in my little car on the highway back to my home institution, thoughts churning in my head as i drove. i watched the landscape outside change from coast to valley as i drove my way inland. and at last, i saw the mountains that tower over my school, and felt the most overwhelming sense of relief come over me.

i saw those mountains, and my first thought was: i'm home.

[instantinternetcrush]

i keep going back to when you picked me up from the airport.

i got lost. i’m always somewhere in between getting lost and finding myself again. i was supposed to find these stairs but i couldn’t find the stairs and i didn’t know where you were but it was fine because you called me. you heard me over the phone, getting more lost, wandering around aimlessly and desperately.

i found the stairs and you heard me almost eat shit racing down the stairs. i heard you laughing at me and then you told me you saw me walking around outside. you said the boots i was wearing were impractical. they were. you offered me a cigarette on the way to your car. tsa took my lighter, so i took you up on it, smiling.

when i saw you i sprinted across the 7pm LAX traffic in my very impractical boots carrying my entire existence in a handbag. i paid your parking fee. you said you were tired, and so was i. we still chatted a lot.

you called my ex husband a walking L for fumbling me. laughed at my dumb jokes. we checked into the hotel together and you let me be quiet and happy and fell asleep on my chest after making fun of my heartbeat being so fast. sorry babe, you know i get nervous.

your eyes were a lot bluer than i was expecting. your hands felt nicer on my waist/hips/face than i was expecting. the sound of your voice was soothing. falling asleep drunk and next to you felt right.

[cheeesecakemouse]

I know it would be vandalism but I constantly think about making stickers of the ‘hell is real’ billboard that also says ‘and it is here’ to just like leave in places that make me feel like hell is real and here

[whitmore]

whoever called tsa security theatre was right

[whimsiwitchy]

Controversially Young Girlfriend (part three)

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 

series masterlist & main masterlist

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns, sexual themes, fighting (verbal).

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. I do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything!! <3

authors note: idk yall, this kinda ate ngl. I’m so proud of this and I really hope you all enjoy it as much as I did! <3 also I’m sorry to all the Pedro girlies…I had to. 

part three: uninvited

The past few days seemed to drag on slower than you wished they had. The rest of your time in London was spent doing various interviews centered around your upcoming album release and Ashley dragged you around to every possible tourist attraction around. It was all rather mundane- every interview was the same and every attraction too crowded for your liking. You were being a grump but you were tired and anxious. All the hype around your sophomore album delighted you, truly it did, but the doubts always took up more space in your mind than you cared to admit. With this album, you took a lot of inspiration from the pop girlies of the early 2000s, Britney being the biggest influence. You allowed yourself to explore your sexuality and true self. The songs were erotic in the best way and in just a few weeks, everyone would have access to that side of you. The image you’d been portraying wasn’t that of a ‘soft good girl’ per say but you hadn’t been this open and honest before. It was terrifying. 

You landed at LAX around two in the morning, giving you a few hours of sleep before your 11am meeting. This was one of those times you didn’t mind using the perks of your fame. You had a car waiting to pick Ashley and yourself  up to take you straight home, allowing both of you to get some sleep as the driver fought through the airport traffic. The moment you reached your small house, you threw your luggage across the living room and dropped face down into the couch, falling back into a deep sleep with Ashley right next to you. When your alarms go off at nine am, you’re banging your head into the couch cushions, the seven hours of sleep feeling like a blink. You roll slightly allowing yourself to fall the short distance from the couch onto the floor. “Ow…” You mumble, rubbing the back of your head. Dragging yourself up, you sluggishly made your way to the bathroom to take a quick shower. It was something you should have done last night. Just thinking about all the germs sitting on your body right now made a quick chill of disgust roll down your spine. You heavily disliked sleeping in your ‘outside clothes’ but the tiredness beat the cleanliness last night. 

Sweat pants and a hoodie weren’t exactly meeting appropriate but it wasn’t anything serious, just a little gathering to figure out some last minute details for the album listening party being thrown for your friends and family. You didn’t want it to be a huge deal but your label saw it as a marketing opportunity. If it were up to you, it would be a simple get together at your house but they insisted on it being at some club that would have paparazzi waiting to take pictures. You aren’t even sure why you're needed at the meeting because your input wasn’t even being considered, you just sat and gave the ‘stamp of approval’. Ashley was still knocked out when you walked to your kitchen to grab a small breakfast- a protein yogurt and some apple slices. You’d much prefer french toast but your trainer has been onto you about your diet with a tour coming up. You needed to be in good shape to dance and sing at the same time, it was ridiculous how hard it was. 

“Hey Ash, imma head out, i’ll be back soon.” You shake her shoulder lighty. She opens her eyes to some degree and mutters, what sounded like, an ‘okay’. You sighed as you started the engine to your 2000 green Toyota Corolla. It had been making a funny noise before your trip overseas that you had forgotten all about it. A lot of your newer, richer, friends have made fun of your car but you couldn’t find reason to part with it. It still ran and got you where you needed to be. You loved your fugly little car. The car ride was surprisingly short, traffic light. Pulling into the office parking lot, you sent a quick text to Stacy. 

You: please tell me you’re here already 😭

Stacypoo <33: I am. 4th floor, take a right. I’ll wait in the hall for you. 

You sent a thumbs up and made your way to the front doors. The elevator ride was quick, luckily you were the only one in there, saving you from making any awkward small talk with some random person. You were too tired to keep up your friendly demeanor. Stacy was standing outside of an office door when you first saw her. Giving quick hellos, she motioned you into the room. 

“How long do you think they’ll have us sitting here this time?” You ask jokingly. You’ve made yourself as comfortable as possible in the cheap plastic chair with a thin cushion on the seat. With your elbows propped up on the table, your head sat heavy with both hands holding up your cheeks. 

She lets out a snort before responding. “Who knows. I swear these people make us wait on purpose as some kind of power move.” 

Stacy had left London a day before you had. The moment your last interview was over, she was jumping on the first flight back home. She looked well rested and put together. You envied her ability to bounce back into routine so quickly. The two of you filled the small room with back and forth conversation about the day in London she had missed. Three people from your management/ label came tumbling in fifteen minutes later. As you suspected, you were doing a whole lot of nothing. 

“The team we hired are allowed to go into the club at noon to start decorating and the party will start at 10pm.” One of the people spoke, you think his name is Mark, but you aren’t completely sure. 

“Will y/n need to be there at a certain time or is 10 fine?” Stacy asks. 

“She can show up at ten but she won’t be in the main room until 10:30 so she can give a speech and introduce the album.” Stacy gives a nod and types that into her laptop. You didn’t like the idea of giving a speech. 

“Okay, let's go over the guest list one more time and then we can wrap this up.” Mark, you think, says. You’re paying closer attention now, they hand you a list and you skim it. There's a lot of names of people who you consider more of an acquaintance than a friend but you can’t really uninvite them. 

“Um, can I actually add two more people to this list?” You ask and Mark nods. Stacy is giving you a questioning look. 

“Can you add Ryan Reynolds and Hugh Jackman? I um.. I met them the other day and they said they were fans. It would be cool to have them there.” You smile and from the corner of your eye, you can see Stacy pursing her lips, trying to hold back a laugh. One of the other people in the room, not Mark, adds their names to the guest list. Stacy and Mark talk for a few more minutes before the meeting is coming to a close. Once Stacy and yourself are enclosed in the elevator, she’s looking over at you with a lopsided grin, shaking her head slowly. 

“What?” You give her a small chuckle, feeling extra giddy. 

“You're unbelievable. Why even extend the invite to Mr. Reynolds when all you want is to see Huge Jackman.” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively at the play on Hugh’s name. 

“So not true. They like my music, why not invite them to hear the album before anyone else?” You deny her accusations. 

“Whatever you say y/n.” She drags out the ‘ever’ a little too long to emphasize just how much she doesn’t believe a word you say. The elevator is opening and the walk to the parking lot is silent. Stacy bids you goodbye and says that she would be in touch soon before she’s walking away. 

“Wait! Stacy!” You call out to her and she’s turning back to you.  “I need you to track down Hugh’s number, I want to personally invite him.” You smirk and she’s just shaking her head in a joking manner. 

“Byeee Stacypoooo!” 

—

When you got home, Ashley was awake and watching tv on your couch. You sat with her and talked about everything you had learned at the meeting. She was more excited for the event than you were, it was her type of scene. You knew you'd end up having fun once you were there but you were nervous. You might have left out the fact that you had invited Ryan and Hugh as last minute guests- it was something she could find out the day of if they showed up. She left not too long after, leaving you to pick up your home a little bit. You cleaned it pretty thoroughly before leaving the country but you felt a little overwhelmed by the unpacked luggage that sat in the middle of your living room floor. You packed too much clothing for the short trip, a lot of what was in the suitcase never even got worn. You decided to throw it all in the washer anyway. Dirtys clothes touching clean clothes makes them all dirty in your mind. In the middle of moving your laundry into the washing machine, your phone quacked signaling that Stacy had messaged you. She earned her own notification sound after the endless mixed texts and calls over the first few months of her working for you. It was a terrible habit you had, not answering your phone, but you usually paid attention to it when you were expecting contact. You pressed start on the machine and sauntered over to the kitchen counter your phone sat on. 

Stacypoo <33: the deed is done…have fun loser 

There was a second text that contained a number to which you assumed was Hugh’s. You smiled brightly as you texted Stacy a quick ‘thank you, love you’ text with a million heart emojis. You wasted no time, immediately creating contact for the man you were so eager to see again. 

You: hey hugh, it’s y/n! my label is throwing a listening party for my album that’s coming out soon and I thought it would be really cool if you were there. no pressure to come if you don’t want to but it’s on september 14th at Disco Lights at 10pm. 😊💕

You hit send, put your phone back on the counter, and ran across your house, needing to be as far away from the device as possible. Keeping yourself busy was probably your best option right now, so that’s what you did. You continued where you left off by putting your suitcases back into the storage closet in your hallway. Living alone made you realize how neat of a person you were. Back home it felt like you were constantly cleaning but you didn’t have to do as much in your own home. It was a simple three bedroom with one and a half bathrooms. Two of the three rooms weren’t used that frequently- one being a guest bed and the other being an at home studio/ office. The most you had to do was an occasional dust and sweep. You ran out of things to do too quickly. It had maybe been an hour since you sent the text and you were too nervous to even take a peek at your phone yet. You walked over to the counter comically slow and stared down at the phone screen, too afraid to look at the notifications. There were only three outcomes to this situation- one he doesn’t respond, two he can’t come, or three he agrees to come. You were hoping it was the latter option. The worst outcome was him ignoring you, you hated being ignored. It would also overall be the awkwardest outcome because his team will more than likely extend the invite to him as well. Maybe it would have been easier that way but you really wanted an excuse to get his number and talk to him. 

It felt like eternity had passed before you finally grabbed your phone, but in reality it was probably only a minute, you’ve never had the best self restraint. You unlocked it, opening the home screen, not even bothering to look at the pile of notifications, instead opting to go straight into the message app. 

Hugh Jackman 🥰: Hey y/n. I’d be delighted to come. 😁

You let out a loud screech after reading the message. If you were laying down, you’d be kicking your feet in the air and twirling your hair. You knew he was old but the way he texted did something to you. It was weird but the simplicity in his words was such a turn on. Everything about him turned you on, he was sex on legs, and he was coming to your party. You checked the time he sent the message to see that he responded only ten minutes after you had sent yours. You felt bad for leaving him hanging for so long. 

You: YAY!! I’ll see you there 😘

The added kiss was bold and flirty, you’d hope he would see it as such. You wanted to continue texting him but didn’t want to bother him, so you left it up for him to decide to text you back or not. Just as you were about to swipe out of the app, three little dots popped up at the bottom of the screen. 

Hugh Jackman 🥰: What should I wear? I haven’t been to a club in awhile. 

You: wear whatever you want. I'm sure you’d look good in anything ;)

Hugh Jackman 🥰: Thank you sweetheart. I genuinely do need help though. I’m too old to pick out club clothes. 😂

You: hmmm.. if it would help I could send you a picture of my outfit? maybe it will inspire you 

Hugh Jackman 🥰: Yeah we can try that. 

Ashley begged you to go shopping with her the moment you told her about the event and you both have had outfits picked out for a few weeks. When you got home that day, you put on the outfit, snapping a quick mirror picture to send to your hair and makeup artist so she could start brainstorming. You opted to send the same picture to Hugh. 

Hugh Jackman 🥰: Oh! That’s nice. 

You laughed at that. The picture of you wasn’t the best quality but you still looked hot. You were wearing a silver mini skirt that was lined with large sequins, ones that reminded you of a purse you had when you were younger. The top was a silver latex halter top that made your cleavage look devine. To top the look off, you wore a pair of shiny silver heels that could almost be classified as stilettos, but you wanted to be able to move around comfortably. You could have easily pulled the outfit out of your closet and snapped a picture of it but you wanted to tease him.

You: thank you! did that help at all? 😊

Hugh Jackman 🥰: Yeah, it did... Thank you sweetheart. 

You: no problem! 

He didn’t respond right away this time and being the menace you are, you were hoping it was because you made him flustered. 

—

The two and half weeks leading up to the listening party seemed to drag on now that you were more excited for it. Now that Hugh was coming, you were also extra nervous. While you got your hair and makeup done, all you could think about was how everyone was about to hear about your sex fantasies for almost an hour straight. You were counting on the beat of the music and the fact that this was everyone's first listening to distract them from processing the lyrics right away. You hadn’t heard much from Hugh and you were scared that you might have offended him with the picture you had sent. You decided to send a text two days ago asking if he was still planning on coming, to which he replied positively. 

Butterflies danced around your tummy as you posed for a few pictures before you went out to join the party. You could hear it in full swing, a playlist that you had curated playing in the background. Breathing in and out slowly, someone handed you a microphone and you were being ushered to a small stage that sat in the back of the club. The music got turned down and the lights centered towards you, a wave of quiet flooded the room. 

“Hi everyone! I’m beyond thankful for everyone here tonight. This album has been so much fun to make and I feel like it really represents me as an artist. It pays tribute to the amazing women of the late 90s and early 2000s who changed the pop game and who inspired me to make music. I really hope y’all like it! Without further ado, here is ‘Secret Sounds’!” The gathering of your friends, family, and acquaintances cheer as the first song starts to play. You rush over to the side to hand the mic back to the crew member and you begin to make your rounds. You stop here and there, speaking to people you hardly know, thanking them for being here. The club was packed, making it hard to move around without stopping to talk every step you took. There were only a few people you really wanted to see right now. A smile is glued to your face, soaking in all the love in the room, with it only being partially forced. You can see Ashley across the crowd and you start making your way towards her. You don’t make it far before there's a hand on your shoulder stopping you. 

“Hey baby.” A familiar voice comes from behind you causing your smile to drop as you turn around. 

“Pedro…what are you doing here?” You ask with a mix of shock and irritation in your voice. 

“You invited me, remember?” He’s smiling as if he hadn’t broken up with you in the cruelest way almost two months ago. 

“I thought you’d be smart enough to take the breakup and me ignoring you as being uninvited.” You roll your eyes. 

“Don’t be like that baby.” He’s smiling down at you with those stupid puppy dog eyes. He reaches down to grab your waist but you step back before he can. 

“Don’t touch me!” You say louder than anticipated but no one’s paying attention to you over the loud music. “You broke up with me, remember?” You’re thoroughly pissed off. 

“I know, baby and  I regret it everyday. I want you back y/n. I need you back…” He’s reaching for you again, you step back again. 

“I said don’t touch me..” You don’t yell this time. You need to get away from him. This was supposed to be your night and he’s ruining it. You go to turn around but you’re stopped by a very hard object.

“Is everything okay over here?” A gruff voice asks and you feel two hands grab either side of your arms. “Are you okay?” You look up to see Hugh looking down at you, concern in his eyes. 

“Hugh..” Your voice is weak and breathless. 

“Oh don’t tell me you already moved on?” Pedro lets out, anger lining his words. “What is he, your boyfriend? I wasn’t old enough for you y/n? You had to run and fuck my friend?” His voice grows louder and louder but miraculously no one seems to notice the commotion. 

“He’s not my boyfriend…” You mumble, too embarrassed by the situation. 

“What’s it to you? Huh? Why don’t you mind your business and leave.” Hugh’s voice matches Pedro’s energy effortlessly. He lets go of your arms and instead points an angry finger at Pedro. 

“You know what, I don't need this and I don’t need you.” Pedro says looking into your eyes with a malicious stare. “Good luck with her, she’s nothing but a good fuck and trouble.” He’s walking away before either of you could answer. You felt Hugh go to move towards the directions Pedro went but you stop him by putting your hand on his chest. 

“Don’t…” You whisper and you weren’t sure if he could hear you over the music. Tears were starting to pool at the bottom of your eyes, threatening to escape. 

“Are you okay y/n?” Hugh asks and that’s all it takes before you let out a soft sob. He puts his hand under your chin and is lifting your head. “Let's get you out of here, is that okay?” All you can do is nod. You grab his hand and walk towards the hallway that leads to the room you got ready in. You open the door and make your way to the couch that sits along the wall. Hugh follows behind, closing the door and takes a seat close to you but not too close. He doesn’t say anything, what could he say?

“I’m sorry.” You let out, tears still falling. You pull your knees up, trying to hide the tears from Hugh, even if he already knew they were there. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart.” He cautiously places a hand on your back and rubs it in soft circles, soothing you. You untuck your head for a moment. 

“You shouldn’t have had to deal with that.” You frown at him. 

“What he did is not your fault. Okay?” You can’t find the energy to answer him right away, not sure if you truly believe his words, but you nod anyway. 

“I shouldn’t have asked you to come.” Sadness fills your voice.

“What? Why not?” He asks confusingly. 

“Everyone is going to think what Pedro thought, that you’re my boyfriend. We shouldn’t be seen together. It won’t be good for you.” 

“Hey, don’t think like that sweetheart. Whatever we are is our business, nobody else's. I want to be seen with you, I'm here to support you. I don’t care what people have to say. I’m not him.” His hand stopped moving around your back, eyes filled with an emotion you can’t quite place. 

I’m not him

You don’t respond but you do feel better about the whole situation. You can hear the fourth song of your album playing and you get hit with another rush of sadness. 

“I should probably go back out there, people will start to wonder where I am.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. 

“Let's get you cleaned up. Stay right here.” Hugh stands up and grabs a tissue, wetting it slightly by pouring a few drops of water from a water bottle onto it. He walks over and bends down, sitting on his knees right in front of you. Even at this angle, his head is still resting above yours. Hugh grabs your chin lightly and begins to dab the tissue, wiping your tears away. You can feel the heat from the air leaving his nose hitting your face. It’s comforting in a way.

“There we go, good as new.” He says with a big smile. Your faces are inches away from each other and you wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull him in. 

“Thank you Hugh. For everything.” You return his smile, eyes locked onto his. You took a moment to appreciate his appearance. He was wearing a pair of black jeans and a gray, almost silver button up, as if he tried to match with you. 

“Don’t mention it sweetheart” He stands up and offers his hand to you. “Now let’s get the star of the show back out there, yea?” 

You grab his hand and smile. “Do I look okay?” You ask, afraid that your disheveled state might have ruined your hair or outfit somehow. You pull him towards a mirror to check your full appearance, a firm grip still on his hand. It engulfed yours beautifully. 

“You look gorgeous.” You can tell he means it by the look in his eyes and the small smile that sits on his face. You see a flicker of something in his eyes, you don't fully catch it, but before you can think it over, he’s leaning down to leave a soft kiss on the crown of your head. 

“Let’s go.” He says pulling you out of the room and back into the sea of people, never letting go of your hand.

Thank you for reading!!

part four

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[rafeskai]

Starstruck | Drew Starkey

Chapter One

Summary: In the bustling crowd of a premiere event for Outer Banks, you find yourself caught up in a chaotic moment, lost in the sea of fans. Desperate for a way out, you stumble into an alley where fate leads you to an unexpected—and painful—encounter with Drew Starkey. What starts as a simple misstep soon spirals into something far more complicated, and your life takes an unexpected turn.

Pairings: Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Author's Note: This will be another short fic!!

The city of Los Angeles had always seemed like a dream—one that was just out of reach, filled with palm trees, bright lights, and endless possibilities. You’d seen it in the movies, heard the stories, and scrolled through enough Instagram posts to feel like you knew the place by heart. But none of that had prepared you for the reality of it all—the hum of the traffic, the overwhelming buzz of constant movement, and the sheer size of everything.

It was your first trip to LA, and you had planned to move there. To experience a new beginning, a contrast from your life back in a small town in South Carolina. Your cousin, Ava had begged you to move in with her. She moved out here a few months ago to follow her dreams, chasing her career in fashion and the hustle of the city. And as much as you’d heard about her exciting life, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit nervous. She was always the one to take the leap, to dive headfirst into new opportunities while you watched from the sidelines.

You stood at the gate of LAX, your suitcase rolling behind you, looking around at the sea of strangers and travelers. It felt like the city itself had swallowed you up already, even though you were still waiting for Ava to come pick you up. The air smelled like a mix of saltwater, car exhaust, and faint hints of perfume. Everything seemed bigger, louder, and brighter than anything you were used to.

Ava had promised to take you to some cool places—maybe even a celebrity sighting or two, if you were lucky. She’d been raving about how “amazing” LA was, how everyone was so “laid-back” but also so “serious about making things happen.” You weren’t sure what that meant exactly, but you were excited to see what her new life was all about.

Finally, your phone buzzed with a text. It was Ava.

Ava: “I’m here, babe! I’ll be by in a sec. Get ready for an adventure!”

You smiled to yourself, tucking your phone back in your pocket. Your cousin always had a way of making everything sound like it was going to be epic.

As you stepped outside the airport, you saw Ava leaning against her car, a mischievous grin on her face and sunglasses perched atop her head. She waved you over enthusiastically, her curly hair bouncing as she jumped up and down.

“There you are!” she said, pulling you into a hug. “Welcome to LA, sweetheart!”

You hugged her back, letting out a small laugh at her over-the-top enthusiasm. Despite the chaos around you, her energy was contagious. It was exactly what you needed to start your adventure in this strange, exciting city. And maybe, just maybe, you’d find yourself falling for LA the way everyone else did.

Ava tossed your suitcase into the trunk and hopped into the driver’s seat, motioning for you to get in. “Alright,” she said, turning the key in the ignition. “Let’s show you what this place is really about.”

As you slid into the passenger seat and buckled up, the city sprawled out in front of you. The buildings, the people, the cars—everything was moving so fast. You couldn’t help but feel like you were on the brink of something big. This trip was going to be more than just a visit; it was going to be an experience that might change everything.

Ava shot you a grin as she pulled onto the highway. “Ready for your first adventure in LA?”

You took a deep breath, a nervous excitement bubbling up inside of you. “I think so.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The ride to Ava’s apartment was a whirlwind of sights and sounds. Palm trees lined the streets, swaying lazily in the breeze, their silhouettes framed against the setting sun. The cars zipped by, each one seemingly flashier than the last, and the billboards advertised everything from the latest blockbuster films to obscure yoga studios. Ava, ever the LA native-in-the-making, narrated the trip like a tour guide, pointing out landmarks and offering unsolicited advice.

“That’s Runyon Canyon,” she said, gesturing to a hill dotted with hikers. “Great for photos, but only go early in the morning. Otherwise, it’s hotter than hell.”

You nodded, your eyes wide as you took everything in. “Noted.”

“Oh, and you’ll definitely need to get used to traffic. Like, it’s not if you’ll sit in it—it’s how many hours of your life you’ll lose to it.”

The apartment complex Ava lived in was nestled in a lively neighborhood just outside of downtown. It wasn’t the most glamorous building, but it had charm, with colorful murals painted along the walls and a small courtyard with string lights hanging from the trees. As you stepped inside, dragging your suitcase behind you, Ava gave you a grand tour of her one-bedroom unit, which she’d converted into a makeshift two-bedroom by sectioning off the living room with a curtain.

“Sorry it’s not huge,” she said, flopping onto her bed as you set your suitcase down near the futon that would serve as your new sleeping spot. “But the location is killer, and it’s LA—no one actually hangs out in their apartment. We’ll be too busy living it up.”

You laughed, appreciating her enthusiasm even if you weren’t entirely sure you’d adjust to this new pace. The space itself was cozy, with mismatched furniture, a tiny kitchen, and windows that let in just enough light to make it feel inviting. Ava’s personality was everywhere—her collection of vintage magazines, her mood board filled with fabric swatches and fashion sketches, and an eclectic mix of candles and trinkets scattered on every surface.

That night, you spent hours unpacking while Ava filled you in on her plans for your first week. From trendy coffee shops to a thrift store crawl, she had your itinerary packed. But what caught your attention most was her excitement over the Outer Banks premiere.

“You have to come with me tonight,” she said, flopping onto your futon dramatically. “It’s going to be amazing. Red carpet, celebrities, the works.”

You hesitated, folding a sweater and setting it aside. “I don’t know, Ava. I just got here. Don’t you think I need a little time to settle in?”

She shook her head emphatically. “Nope. The best way to settle in is to jump in headfirst. Trust me, babe. You’ll love it. Plus, who knows? Maybe you’ll meet someone famous.”

You raised an eyebrow at her, but her grin was infectious. Despite your nerves, you couldn’t help but feel a little intrigued. The idea of attending a real Hollywood event was daunting, but also undeniably exciting. This was LA, after all—the city of endless possibilities.

“Okay,” you said finally, earning a squeal of delight from Ava. “But you owe me coffee for a week if this goes horribly wrong.”

“Deal,” she said, leaping to her feet. “Now, let’s find you something fabulous to wear.”

As Ava rummaged through her closet, tossing dresses and accessories your way, you couldn’t help but smile. Moving to LA was already proving to be as overwhelming as you’d feared, but with Ava by your side, you were starting to believe that maybe you could handle it.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

You’d never been one for crowds, but when Ava forced convinced you to go the Outer Banks premiere in LA, you couldn’t turn it down. You weren’t a huge fan of the show, but you’d heard enough buzz to know it was a big deal. Plus, Ava had a knack for dragging you into her wild adventures, and when she’d said "Hollywood glamour," you couldn't help but get caught up in the excitement.

The red carpet was everything you imagined and more. Flashbulbs from cameras stung your eyes as celebrities in perfectly tailored suits and dresses posed for photos. You tried to focus on the stars walking by, but it felt like the entire city was crammed into this one street, and the noise—oh, the noise—was almost too much to bear. Ava had already spotted a few friends and pulled you along, her chatter almost drowned out by the sound of hundreds of voices and music blaring from speakers.

"I need to get a selfie with Drew Starkey!" Ava shouted over the noise, practically bouncing on her feet.

You blinked. Drew Starkey? The guy who played Rafe Cameron on Outer Banks?

"Wait, wait, wait," you protested, pulling back on her arm. "I’m not ready for that—"

But she was already off, threading her way through the crowd, her phone in hand, her eyes focused on the star she was aiming for. You sighed and tried to follow, but the crowd was thickening, and before you knew it, you were separated from Ava.

You glanced around, feeling your pulse quicken as the realization hit—you were lost. People were pushing past you, and the overwhelming mass of bodies made it hard to even catch your breath. Frantically, you glanced around for some way to escape the chaos, a backdoor, a quiet corner—anything.

That’s when you spotted a narrow alleyway just off the red carpet, tucked behind a line of sleek black cars. It was quiet. It was a chance to breathe.

You weaved through the crowd, trying to stay unnoticed, hoping to find an escape route or at least somewhere to collect yourself. But as you stepped into the alley, you felt a bit of relief—until a loud bang echoed from behind you.

Before you could react, the door to a building swung open, and you stumbled backward as the metal edge caught you square in the face.

The world tilted sideways.

Everything went black for a moment, and you stumbled backward into the wall of the alley, your hands instinctively reaching up to touch your face, feeling a sharp pain shoot across your forehead. What the hell just happened?

A voice—gruff and slightly panicked—came from the direction of the door. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry!”

You groaned, blinking your eyes open, your vision swimming. Standing in front of you, looking at you with wide, apologetic eyes, was none other than Drew Starkey himself.

You didn’t recognize him at first. Your head was swimming, and your pulse was racing. But then his face registered, and you froze. Drew Starkey?

“I didn’t see you there,” he said, reaching out as if to help you, but then pulling back as though unsure. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry. I—I didn’t mean to… hit you. I’m really sorry.”

You couldn’t find words right away. Your vision swam, and you felt lightheaded, your hand instinctively rising to your forehead to feel the throbbing pain.

“Do you need help? I can get someone…” His voice trailed off, a soft edge of concern in it now. “Please say you’re okay.”

Somehow, you found your voice, though it came out more like a pained whisper. “I think... I think I’m okay. Just... I need a second.”

His eyes were full of worry, but he took a step back, glancing around as if searching for someone to help. The alley was dimly lit, and you weren’t sure if anyone had even noticed the accident with how chaotic the premiere still was just beyond the alley.

“Look, um, I don’t know how to make this better. But can I help you?” Drew asked, his voice quieter now, as if he wasn’t sure how to approach you.

You stared at him, trying to focus. This was Drew Starkey. The actor you’d just been thinking about. And you’d gotten hit in the face by a door he opened. You blinked again, still struggling with the fog in your head.

“I’m really not sure you can fix this,” you managed to say, but there was a hint of humor in your voice. The ridiculousness of the situation, how absurd it felt, wasn’t lost on you. Here you were, standing in a back alley with Drew Starkey, and you were definitely not looking your best.

Drew chuckled, though there was still concern in his eyes. “Okay, fair enough,” he said, running a hand through his hair, making it even messier than usual. “But seriously, let me at least get you a drink or something. I feel awful.”

You hesitated, blinking away the dizziness. There was no denying you felt a little bit starstruck, standing face-to-face with him. But there was something else in his eyes now—something soft and genuine. He wasn’t acting like the celebrity you’d imagined, with all the flashy confidence. Instead, he seemed... human. Worried. And kind.

"Alright," you said slowly, trying to steady yourself.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

 You hadn’t realized how badly you were shaking until Drew gently guided you toward a nearby door. It looked like a back entrance to the venue, a simple wooden door with a security keypad next to it. He motioned for you to go first, his hand on the small of your back as though to steady you, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart rate spike for reasons entirely unrelated to the pain in your head.

“Okay, okay,” Drew said, pushing open the door with a soft creak. “We’re going inside where it’s a little quieter. We can sit for a second while you get your bearings. Deal?”

You nodded, your brain still struggling to catch up. This was really happening—you were with Drew Starkey right now. The man Ava has been obsessing over. But now, here he was, acting more like a guy who’d accidentally banged someone’s face with a door than some famous heartthrob.

Once inside, you realized it wasn’t some ritzy celebrity lounge or hidden VIP area, but rather a backstage hallway with a few chairs scattered around and crew members rushing by, deep in conversation or adjusting equipment. The lights were dim here too, but it was at least a bit more peaceful compared to the madness outside.

Drew led you to one of the chairs by the wall and sat down across from you, though not too far. He was careful not to invade your personal space, which you appreciated. He looked genuinely concerned, his brow furrowed as he examined your face.

“Does it hurt? I mean, does it feel like it’s swelling or anything? I’m no doctor, but...” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

You winced, touching the side of your forehead again. It was definitely sore, a dull ache, but nothing that felt too serious. Yet.

“No, I think it’s just a bump. It’ll be fine,” you said, hoping you weren’t downplaying it too much. “It’s not the first time I’ve walked into a door, you know?”

Drew raised an eyebrow. “Really? That’s a new one for me. Usually, people walk into doors because they’re distracted or something, but... this feels a little more like a... targeted door.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound shaky at first but more genuine as it left your mouth. “Well, if I’d known the door was going to open right into my face, I would've steered clear.”

He chuckled along with you, but his eyes still carried a hint of concern.

“Look, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. I was just trying to get out of there before the paparazzi went wild. It’s been a long night.”

You could tell he was being sincere. There was no hint of ego in his voice, nothing that would make you feel like he was brushing it off because he was a celebrity—which, honestly, you might have expected in a situation like this. But Drew didn’t seem like the type.

“I’m just glad you’re not one of those celebrities who tries to act too cool to care,” you said, then realized how that might sound. “I mean, not that I thought you would be, but you know... it’s nice not to be treated like a random fan.”

He looked at you, tilting his head slightly, his expression softening. “I get it. I mean, I don’t think we’re all that different, you know? I’m just a guy with a weird job.”

“A weird job?” You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his humble tone.

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging. “I mean, I get paid to pretend to be someone I’m not for a living. How weird is that?”

You smiled. “Well, you’re pretty good at it. Everyone seems to love Rafe Cameron.”

Drew laughed, but it sounded a little forced. “Thanks, I guess. I don’t know if ‘love’ is the right word though, considering the character I play...”

You nodded in understanding. It was clear he wasn’t as fond of Rafe as most fans were. “True, true,” you said. “I mean, Rafe’s not exactly the most... well, likeable guy. But he’s interesting. He’s got layers, you know? I feel like he’s the kind of character you love to hate.”

Drew’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “Yeah. It’s definitely a challenge. But I’ll take it. It’s more fun playing a character who’s got that edge.”

The conversation lingered in an unexpected place of comfort, with the two of you talking like you had known each other far longer than just a few minutes. As you talked, you started to feel the fogginess in your head subside a little, your thoughts a bit clearer. You shifted in your chair, feeling a bit more steady.

"So, uh," Drew spoke up again, breaking the comfortable silence. "I feel like we should properly introduce ourselves now. I’m Drew, obviously." He grinned, though there was a hint of awkwardness in his eyes.

You smiled, feeling a little silly that you hadn’t introduced yourself earlier, but you were still kind of in shock. “I’m Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N, I’m really sorry again for hitting you in the face,” he said, still a little sheepish. "Maybe I can make it up to you somehow? Like, take you out for a drink or... I don’t know... find a way to help?"

It took you a moment to register the question, your mind racing. Was he asking you out? Or just trying to be nice?

Before you could overthink it, Drew added quickly, “Not in a weird way! Just... you know... trying to make it right.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I get it. I mean, a drink sounds nice—just... no more doors, okay?”

Drew's grin widened, clearly relieved by your response. “Deal. No more doors. And I’ll make sure to keep it to something a little more... calm.”

© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Dress

Evan “Buck” Buckley x fem!reader

Summary: you and Buck have a one night stand only to find that your world is a lot smaller than you initially thought

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) fingering, brief mention of grief

part two part three part four part five part six

word count: 6k

The LAX airport was crowded beyond belief and you were feeling yourself get overstimulated just by how many people were there. Every time you had touched down in LA, you regretted flying into that specific airport because of all of the foot traffic and actual traffic.

You took your suitcase and rolled it as you walked outside to wait for your friend Scarlett to pick you up. You checked your phone and noticed you had a bunch of messages from your uncle who was always a little too worried about you. You had flown down because you had gotten a nursing job in the city and he had insisted that a party be thrown in your honor because he was just so proud of you.

Scarlett’s familiar blue car rolled up to the curb and she popped the trunk where you put all of your luggage. She quickly got out of the car to help before pulling you into a tight hug.

“LA has been so boring without you, babe,” she sighed. “I’m so glad you’re back and for good this time.”

“Me too. You know I didn’t mean to leave you like that, it was just-my mom-“

“Let’s not talk about that right now,” Scarlett gave your back a sympathetic rub before putting on her signature look that told you that she was up to something. “We’re going out tonight so I hope you brought something slutty to wear.”

“Of course I did.” You had brought your whole wardrobe so there was bound to be something that was up to her standards. She was definitely the more stylish one out of the two of you and you were glad to have her be your fashion consultant again, even though for the most part, you’d be wearing scrubs most of the time.

You both got into her car and you felt nervous about being back in the city. You had to go back to New Jersey when your mom had gotten sick and stayed after she passed because you were afraid to contact people again. You had completely cut contact from the outside world since you had lost her because she was the only person you had left and suddenly, she was gone.

Your uncle knew that you had just graduated nursing school and had helped you get a job at a hospital in LA, and you decided that you had been alone for long enough, so you packed up all your stuff and took the chance to move back, ready to be around your found family again.

Turned out, neither Scarlett nor your uncle had been upset with you about your silence and had been nothing but grateful that you were okay. They had assured you that they wanted to see you and Scarlett had even offered to let you stay with her until you got on your feet.

You were excited to see your uncle, though. He has gotten married since the last time you saw him and you were excited to meet his new family at the party he had insisted on throwing you a party to congratulate you on not only graduating but also getting your first job as an official nurse. He was so proud of you and bragged about your accomplishments to anyone who would listen.

Scarlett pulled up to her building and parked in the parking garage before helping you with your luggage, the two of you hauling it all to the elevator. Once on her floor, you both got to the correct apartment and threw the stuff on the floor, deciding that you would work on it later since your priorities were focused on going out. After everything that happened in New Jersey, you definitely felt like you deserved a drink.

As soon as she was inside, Scarlett threw the suitcase that she was holding down onto the couch then unzipped it before going through all of the clothes that were inside it, not finding what she was looking for. She then went through every single one of your suitcases and shook her head before heading to her room.

You followed her curiously and collapsed onto her bed as she went through her closet. Your clothes weren’t exactly as outgoing as hers, but you at least thought she would like something of yours.

“So I guess I’m borrowing something of yours tonight?” You asked, leaning up to look at her.

“Of course you are. You know I usually support your outfit decisions, babe, but none of those outfits are going to get you laid.”

“What if I don’t want to get laid?” You did, though. Probably a little too much.

“You haven’t seen a dick in two years,” she turned to look at you. “You want to get laid.”

“I’m not even sure I know how to do it anymore.” You didn’t have time to sleep with anyone with taking care of your mother and after she passed, you were so riddled with grief that you couldn’t get yourself to get back out there.

“It’s just like riding a bike. Or I guess riding a-“

“I get it, Scar,” you cut her off. “So what am I wearing tonight?” You weren’t sure you could pull off whatever she was going to pick out, but you were hopeful.

“This,” she pulled out a red dress that left practically nothing up to the imagination. It was short and would definitely show off your cleavage. She tossed it to you without another word and you went to the bathroom to change.

You peeled off your clothes and stared at yourself in the mirror, wondering if you were even ready to sleep with anyone just yet. You had gained some grief weight and could see it in your stomach. When you slipped the dress on, you could see your stomach poking out and felt the need to cover up, but figured you could have worn a jacket over it.

You hesitantly opened the door and stepped out into the bedroom. Scarlett turned to face you and a gasp escaped her lips once she caught sight of you. She stepped forward and looked you up and down.

“Damn,” she let out a whistle. “I might even be into you. Oh yeah, you’re definitely going to score tonight.”

“Really? You don’t think it’s too much?”

“Not at all. You look hot. Now c’mon. Let’s get go get you someone to take home.” She grabbed you by the arm and called you both an Uber to head to the bar.

You were nervous to say the least. You hadn’t slept with anyone since your last boyfriend and he hadn’t exactly been able to please you in that way. It was always all about him and his needs. Maybe that night you’d be able to find someone who could please you more than Jared ever could.

The bar wasn’t nearly as crowded when you got there and you and Scarlett ordered your drinks. You looked around while you waited for them to be made, on the hunt for your hook up. Your eyes locked on a group of fire fighters and you felt your cheeks blush as you made eye contact with one of them. He gave you a wink and you turned back to Scarlett who was fanning herself dramatically with her hand.

“I think I’m having an emergency,” she told you and you just rolled your eyes.

“Is the emergency in your pants?” You asked with a pointed look and she just smirked.

“You know me so well,” she gave your shoulder a nudge and turned back to the bar where your drinks were sitting. You then followed her to an empty table, giving you a great view of the very cute firefighter who had caught your eye.

You could see Scarlett’s lips moving, but you couldn’t hear what she was saying, the man taking up all of your attention. His eyes didn’t leave you as you chatted with your friend.

Buck had frequented that bar more than he cared to admit. He recognized all of the regulars and you weren’t one of them because he definitely would have remembered you.

“Just buy her a drink, Buck,” Hen told him. She could see him eyeing you and just wanted him to make a move already.

“No,” he shook his head. “I-I’m not hooking up anymore, remember? I’m-“

“Buck three point oh,” the rest of the table finished for him. Was he really that predictable?

“With all due respect, Buckaroo,” Chimney spoke up. “No one said anything about hooking up. It’s just a conversation.”

As usual, Chimney’s word rang true. But even with a conversation, Buck was afraid that a conversation very easily could have led to sex and he was trying to cut back on that. It had been a few months since he had broken up with Taylor and he really wasn’t looking for anything, no matter how beautiful you looked and no matter how much he thought about what the dress you were wearing would look like on the floor of his bedroom.

“Yeah,” Eddie added. “Go talk to her. Do it.” He began chanting the last two words lowly and the others joined in, making Buck’s cheeks go pink.

He stood from the table and everyone cheered a little too loudly for his liking, catching your attention as he made his way over to your table. Scarlett saw the two of you making eyes at each other and decided to make herself scarce, heading over to the bar to find an empty stool she could occupy.

“May I?” Buck referred to the now empty seat across from you and you nodded. What were you going to do? Say no?

“Of course.”

“I’m Evan,” he smiled as he sat down.

“Y/n,” you replied and he nodded, taking a sip from his now empty beer.

“Y/n,” he repeated and you didn’t like just how much you enjoyed hearing him saying your name.

“Yup,” you nodded, taking a sip from your own drink.

“So, what brings you here tonight?” So many things, but mostly, the drinks. Evan was definitely going to be the one to make you stay.

“I just graduated nursing school.” Buck knew just how much it took to get through nursing school let alone to get a job as one, so he felt like you deserved a couple of drinks on him.

“Congrats. That’s a really big achievement. And you know what? Your drinks are on me tonight.”

“No, Evan. I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking,” he shrugged. “I’m telling you that I’m buying your drinks. So what are you drinking?”

“Margarita on the rocks. Salt on the rim.”

“You got it,” he nodded and headed over to the bar, leaving you alone. You tried to play a little hard to get, not wanting to seem too available. While he had his back to you, you turned to look at him.

You let your eyes raked down his body, stopping at his ass, admiring the way his jeans hugged it and you found yourself wanting to stick your hand down them to get a handful for yourself.

As soon as Buck felt your eyes on him, he turned to look at you but you turned away, pulling your phone out of your purse to check your messages and they all happened to be from your uncle Robert.

Text me when you land!

Your flight landed at 8:30 and it is now 9:00. Why haven’t I heard from you?

Guess you’re having too much fun to get back your old uncle, huh?

You had completely forgotten that you had promised him that you’d tell him when you landed. Scarlett’s plan had totally derailed yours. Maybe you could end the night early and go see him to make it up to him. He was practically a father to you and was the whole reason you had a job in the first place so you felt like you owed it to him to do that.

Robert, I’m so sorry! Time got away from me and I completely forgot to get back to you!

That’s alright. You have a good night and I’ll see you on Saturday.

You set your phone back in your purse as Buck came back with your drink and he handed it to you with a bright smile on his face.

“Thank you,” you took the drink and took a sip before setting it down on the table.

“You’re very welcome,” he smiled again, taking a sip from his own drink that looked like the same one you had gotten. “So, you got a job lined up?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Got my first day next Monday.”

“Well, I think you’re going to be amazing. Cheers,” he held up his glass and you did the same, letting them clink together.

“I haven’t started the job yet.”

“Yeah, but I have a pretty good feeling about you,” he leaned back in his chair, studying you. “And I’m always right about these things.”

“If you say so,” you shrugged and licked the salt from your glass which Buck was having a hard time watching. He wanted you to do the exact same thing to him. To feel your hot tongue on his neck as you sucked on it, leaving the nastiest looking mark behind once were finished.

“Trust me,” he winked. “You’ll be great.” He took another sip of his drink and grimaced. “That’s terrible.”

“Oh, so you’re an alcohol snob, huh?”

“I drink the cheapest beers so I’m definitely not a snob. This is just the worst margarita I’ve ever had.” It wasn’t the worst you’d ever had, but it definitely wasn’t the best.

“Okay, maybe it sucks,” you admitted with a shrug.

“See?” He leaned back in this chair. “Always right.”

“Whatever you say, Evan,” you rolled your eyes.

After many drinks and a few shots, you were the only ones left in the bar, giggling and flirting with each other. Somehow, Buck had ended up in the chair to the left of yours, scooting so that it was right up against it. You were talking in hushed tones, amping up the flirting as more alcohol entered your systems.

His hand rested on your thigh as he leaned toward you, his lips right by your ear as he spoke. Your breath hitched at the feeling of his hot breath on your skin as he spoke, wondering what it would have felt like as he whispered the filthiest things into your ear.

“Do you wanna take things to my place?” He asked, his other hand moving to your shoulder, slipping under the strap of your dress.

“Yes,” you breathed and just chuckled at your reaction, loving how you were already coming undone and he hadn’t even done anything yet.

“We could play Grand Theft Auto, maybe a little Mario Kart?”

“Oh, so you want to play games?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled again and the hot air being blown on your ear made you shiver. “All kinds of games.” He took your ear lobe between his teeth and gave it a little bite before pulling away completely just in time to watch your eyes glaze over with lust. He had you right where he wanted you.

Buck pulled you to your feet and payed the tab before leading you out to the parking lot where he pulled out his phone to get an Uber for you both. Neither of you had a drink for a couple of hours, but he still wanted to be safe.

He pulled you to his chest, watching you chew on your bottom lip, your red lipstick leaving a mark on your teeth. Buck watched you, completely captivated by your movements, wanting to know what your lips felt like, but not able to make the move.

You leaned closer to him, your eyes shifting to his lips. You looked back up at his eyes as if to ask for permission and he nodded, his lips parting slightly as he did so. Almost as if you had him in a trance.

You grabbed him by the back of the neck and your lips caught his bottom one just as a pair of headlights flashed in your direction as a vehicle pulled up to the curb.

“Uber for Evan?” The driver asked and Buck showed him the proof that it was him before the two of you got into the backseat. He gave the driver the address then turned to you, his hand moving back to your thigh, rubbing up and down it as you tried not to think about how you wanted it to move further up your dress.

You could imagine it perfectly: him slowly moving his hand up your thigh and underneath your dress, making his way to your underwear and sticking his hand down it, his fingers teasing your cunt, making you beg for him until he suddenly stuck his fingers inside of you to make all of your whining stop. He’d urge you to make some noise as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, telling you that you could scream his name as loud as you wanted to.

“I never told you, but you look beautiful tonight,” he said lowly in your ear, his hand giving your thigh a squeeze.

“Don’t look too bad yourself,” you replied, your hand going to his thigh and giving it a squeeze in return.

“No, this isn’t about me,” he took your hand and pressed a kiss to it. “Tonight is all about you.” You felt your cheeks blush and couldn’t help but feel like you needed to step up your flirting game just to keep up with him.

You could feel Buck pulling you forward, his eyes looking at your lips hungrily. He captured your top lip between his two and you moved together slowly, trying to figure out your movements, the feeling of each other’s lips so foreign to you both.

His other hand moved to your jaw, tilting your head up so he had more access to your mouth. He swiped his tongue along your bottom lip and you opened up, letting it slide inside, holding back a moan as it swirled around yours.

Before things could get too heated, the car rolled up to Buck’s apartment building. You both got out and he took you by the hand, leading you inside, making a beeline for the elevator. He pressed the necessary button then pulled you into his arms, his lips slotting between yours once again. Your tongue swiped along his bottom lip just as the doors opened and you pushed him inside, your lips still connected.

You pushed him against the wall and slid your tongue into his mouth as you moved your hands up his t-shirt, getting a good feel of his pecks. You broke apart just to take his shirt off and your lips were back on his in a flash.

The elevator doors opened and Buck guided you down the hallway as your lips still moved together, him only breaking away to unlock his door and as soon as you were inside, he pushed you against it, pinning your hands to it as his lips moved to your neck, peppering the spot with kisses before going in for a rough suck, pulling a moan from your lips.

“Evan, oh my god.” He chuckled at that before continuing to scandalize your neck, his teeth grazing the skin, causing your fingernails to dig into his back as you let out another loud moan.

“Yeah? You like that, honey?” Neither of you quite knew where the term of endearment came from, but had to admit that you liked it. Very much.

“More, please.” He kind of liked the idea of you begging for him. Teasing you until you were whining for him. He licked a stripe across your neck then grazed it once again and he couldn’t feel you going limp in his arms.

He pulled you from the wall and mumbled the word “jump” against your skin and you did as he asked and he caught you, his hands moving to your ass as he attached your lips to his as he carried you up the stairs slowly.

He set you down on your feet and you both removed your shoes and kicked them aside before Buck laid you down onto the bed and climbed on top of you, his legs tangling with yours as his lips moved back to the hickey he was working on. You turned your head to the side to give him more access and he took advantage, burying his face completely into it, giving it another suck as yet another moan fell from your lips.

“God, fuck,” you whined and let your eyes close tight and pleasure rolled through your body. Your back arched and Buck took that as an opportunity to slip his hands behind you, his hands pressing to your back, moving down to your ass.

His hand slowly moved up your dress and cupped your ass, giving it a squeeze which caused you to yelp in surprise. He chuckled at your reaction and went it for one more hard suck to pull another moan from your lips before diffusing the sting with another swipe of his tongue along the sensitive spot before rolling off of you.

“Wait here for just a second? I’m just gonna grab something.” Before you could answer, he raced down the stairs on the hunt for something and you just laid there, trying to keep yourself from drying up while you waited for him to come back.

You decided to do a little snooping and looked around the room, your eyes catching his jacket that he wore when he was on duty. You found yourself wanting to try it on, but didn’t feel like you had the right since you had only just met and the fact that you wouldn’t have forgiven yourself if something had happened to it.

You slowly snuck over to it, your fantasy getting the best of you as you as you slowly removed it from the top of his duffel bag. You noticed what you assumed was his last name on the bottom of it. Buckley. You liked the sound of it. You slipped it on over your shoulders and slowly zipped it up only to hear Bucks voice behind you.

“What are you doing?” His tone was more amused than accusatory but you were still nervous as you turned around to face him.

“I was just-I honestly don’t know. I’m sorry. I’ll take it off.”

“No, leave it on. You look…hot.” Buck had never fantasized about anything like that, but he had to admit that seeing you in his uniform was definitely doing something for him.

“Yeah?” You asked stepping forward. You turned around and unzipped the jacket and pulled your dress down slowly, letting it pool at your feet, your thong following it, then turned back around. Your eyes filled with lust as you grabbed onto Buck’s hands and guided them up to the zipper.

“Wanna unzip me, Buckley?” You asked, your tone even more flirty than before and Buck swore that he was going to cream his pants. “Go ahead. I can see how badly you want it.”

Instead of unzipping the jacket, He pressed his lips to yours roughly, his tongue slipping into your mouth and you moaned at the feeling. He continued to kiss you senseless as his hand traveled down the jacket and to your cunt, his fingers teasing the outside and he could already feel your slick, feeling a little cocky about getting you that wet with most just his words. He was definitely back in the game.

“Evan, please,” you whined, begging for his finger to fuck you, but he was still teasing you, not entirely sure that you wanted it enough.

“Gonna need you to beg some more, honey. Not sure you want it enough.”

“Evan, c’mon,” you grabbed hold of his wrist, but he felt like needed a little bit more.

“Gonna need to be a little louder.”

“Please, Evan? Need your fingers so bad.” There it was. He shoved his fingers up your cunt and you gasped, not entirely prepared for them.

“Oh,” was all you were able to get out and you turned your back to him, pressing it to his chest so he could have more access and he pumped his fingers in and out of you slowly, eating up every last one of your delicious moans. Your head fell back onto his shoulder and it gave him perfect opportunity to watch you completely fall apart at his touch. If his fingers were driving you wild, he wondered just what his dick would do.

“You’re so tight, hon. But don’t worry, I’ll loosen you up real nice.” You had absolutely it doubt about that. He was already making you feel much more pleasure than your ex boyfriend and your vibrator combined.

“Faster,” you moaned. He was being too nice for your liking. You wanted his fingers to fuck you roughly in a way that it was almost concerning.

Buck moved his fingers the fastest he could and you moaned so loudly that he felt his dick hardening even more. Just a few more pumps and you were definitely going to orgasm.

“That’s it,” you told him. “Just like that.” His fingers curved and hit just the right spot to make you reach your climax, your back arching as you did so.

As soon as you came down from your high, Buck removed his fingers from you and turned you around to face him. He slowly brought his fingers covered in your slick up to his mouth and sucked on them, watching your face for your reaction.

His eyes darkened as he sucked on his fingers, licking them entirely clean and you watched him in shock, your cunt now a sopping wet mess. The final straw was when he slowly pulled them from his mouth and licked up the back of them, a devilish smirk making its way upon his face.

“Christ,” was all you were able to say and Buck stepped closer to you, grabbing you by the waist and pressing his lips to yours one more time. He slowly unzipped the jacket and you were getting more desperate for him the longer he took. You were just ready to let him have his way with you already. The jacket fell open and his eyes widened as he took in your naked body, part of it still hidden by the jacket, but the little taste was all he needed.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “I mean-“ he tried to come up with something more complimentary, but he couldn’t. You were perfect. The exact kind of woman that always appeared in his dreams.

“Fuck.” His voice was deep and raspy and you felt yourself slick run down your thighs because of how wet you were.

“Are you gonna stare at me all night, Buckley? Or are you going to fuck me?”

“The second one,” he replied, grabbing you by the jacket and pressing his lips to yours roughly. “Definitely the second one.”

“Good boy,” you replied and you both felt his cock tent in his pants as soon as the words left your mouth. That seemed to be the final straw to get him up and he was straight up desperate for you now.

You unbuttoned his pants and pulled them along with his underwear to the floor, his dick springing free as you did so. You felt your mouth water as you thought about what it would feel like in your mouth. But now wasn’t the time. You just needed him inside you.

His cock was leaking with precum and the only other man you had slept with had never looked like that before. Seeing Buck, you had come to realize that you were never the problem.

You grabbed onto Buck’s shoulders and pushed him onto the bed and took the condom from his hand, rolling it onto his cock before placing yourself on top of him, taking no time to roll your hips into his.

Your hands went to your shoulder as you rode him, watching him come undone underneath you, letting him be the one to be teased. His moans were absolutely intoxicating and you moved harder and faster to make him come completely undone and it worked.

“You feel so good, honey,” he moaned. “Look so pretty on top of me.”

“No, you’re the pretty one,” you complimented. “Love how you look underneath me, Buckley.” God, you were good. He had never slept with someone who could keep up with his game and he almost thought that you were better at it than he was.

“And I feel good. You feel so good.” You continued to ride him, going the hardest and fastest that you could and you watched his face, eating up just how much you were able to please him as he let out moan after moan.

You were nothing but pleased with yourself as you watched him come absolutely undone, eating up every last one of his moans as you leaned over him, pressing your lips to his. They moved together as you continued to ride him. You moved your lips to his cheek and down to his neck and he moved his head to the side to give you more access.

You peppered the spot with kisses, mixing in your tongue in with it, licking across the spot and just that alone was enough to make Buck lose his mind. Between both the feeling of your lips and the fact that you were riding him, it was so overstimulating, but he couldn’t have cared less. He was having the time of his life.

You began to suck on the skin and Buck let out gasp even though he had been very aware of what you were doing. Continued to ride him as you sucked on his neck and he couldn’t feel that he was close, but still wanted you to continue. He wanted you to mark him up good.

You grazed the skin with your teeth and he moaned again, his nails digging into your back as you did so. He scratched down your back and you gave the spot a full on bite, pulling a groan out of him.

“So fucking good,” he said and you sucked on the spot again, swiping your tongue along it to diffuse the sting and just as you were finishing marking him up, he reached completion and collapsed back to the mattress, letting out a loud sigh as you got off of him and cleaned yourself up while Buck disposed of the condom.

As soon as you were done, Buck pulled you back down onto the mattress, leaning over you. His hand reached for you and he lowered himself on top of you to press his lips to yours in a sweet kiss before rolling off of you. He turned off his lamp and bid you goodnight along with a kiss before the two of you drifted off to sleep.

———

A loud siren woke you up from your sleep and you turned over to find that Buck was still there, his back facing you. So it hadn’t all been a dream. You had actually slept with him and it wasn’t just a very real fantasy that you had been playing out in your head.

He turned over and a smile broke out on his face as he caught sight of you. That you had actually stayed the night. It always seemed that women liked to leave him right after the act so he was surprised that you were still there.

He smiled back at him and he moved closer, pulling you in for a kiss before rolling out of bed. You laid in bed, watching him get dressed, trying to find a way to ask him if he wanted to go for round two after he got off work, but you decided against it. Maybe you were just meant to only be a one night stand.

“Heading to work?”

“Unfortunately,” he sighed. If Buck had it this way, he would have the day off and had his way with you the entire day, only getting up to go to the bathroom or eat.

“Sure I can’t make you stay?” You asked, pulling down the blanket to reveal your bare breasts and Buck could drool pooling in his mouth as he thought about how much he wanted to suck on them.

“No,” he shook his head to wipe the thought away. Once he was dressed, he made his way over to you and tilted your chin up. “I really have to go. And you have unpacking to do,” he reminded you of what you had told him at the bar. He pressed a kiss to your lips and handed you your dress.

“Kicking me out, Buckley?” You asked as he helped you put your dress on before handing you your thong. You put it on and Buck helped you up from the bed before grabbing his duffel bag and jacket.

“No,” he replied. “Just thought you’d want to be dressed when you walked me to the door.”

The two of you descended the steps and he pulled you to the door, resting his hands on your waist as he did so. His blue eyes bored into yours and he leaned down and pressed another kiss to your lips.

“You’re more than welcome to stay here until I get back, but I know you have things to do, so we can end things here.”

“That would be the right thing to do,” you pursed your lips. “But fuck being right,” you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and slotted your lips between his, taking no time to swipe your tongue along his bottom lip, causing him to pull away.

“Hey, that’s not fair,” he pointed at you and you just pulled him over to the staircase, attaching your lips to his.

“Life’s not fair, Buckley,” you told him as you led him up the stairs to go for round two.

Buck had been over an hour late to work and realized that he had a bunch of messages from the rest of the 118 asking where he was. Considering his shirt that was not buttoned correctly and his very kiss bitten lips, it was obvious what he had been up to.

He was met by Bobby when he entered the station and he let out a loud sight because he knew exactly what was coming and didn’t want to hear it. The others were nowhere to be found so he had no one to bail him out, so he was stuck listening to Bobby’s lecture.

“You’re late,” Bobby told him as he crossed his arms over his chest, like a parent who was scolding a child.

“I know, Bobby, and I’m sorry. Time got away from me.” Bobby eyed Buck’s shirt then looked back up at him.

“Clearly. Now don’t let it happen again.” With that, Bobby turned on his heel and headed up the stairs, leaving Buck alone.

Really? That was it? No lecture about how he had a responsibility to the 118? And what about the “new version” of himself that he was trying to become and wasn’t really making an effort since he had just slept with you?

Buck ascended the stairs and was met by the other members of the department turning to face him. They all knew why he was late and knew that he wouldn’t have been able to resist you. They just didn’t think that it would have lasted so that he would have been late to work.

“So, how’d it go?” Eddie asked as he sipped on a cup of coffee. Buck immediately wanted to make himself scarce because he was getting embarrassed. But he sat at the table anyway, the others joining him, wanting to hear about his night, but maybe not all of the details.

“Clearly very well,” Hen replied as she sat down to the left of Buck, spotting his very obvious hickey. She pulled his collar down to get a better look to which Buck pushed her hand away.

“Damn,” Chimney commented. “Guess that’s why you’re late, huh?”

“Sorry, I don’t remember this being any of your business and as close as we all are, I will never share my sex life with any of you.” As soon as he was done speaking, the alarm rang, causing them all to get up and race to the engine to answer a call, leaving the conversation for later. Much later if Buck could help it.

———

You and Scarlett arrived at Athena and Bobby’s right on time and the door opened, Bobby on the other side with a bright smile. He couldn’t have been more happy to see you. You were the only blood relation each other had and considering that your father was never around, Bobby had become one to you. And you were like a daughter to him and he was going to protect you no matter what he had to do to do so.

“There’s my girl,” he greeted, his arms open wide and he pulled you in for a tight hug, the both of you making up for lost time being wrapped up in each other’s arms.

“Uncle Robert,” you replied into his chest. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too, kiddo. Scarlett, get in here,” he waved her over and she joined the hug before the three of you pulled away.

“Come on in, there’s someone I want you to meet.” He led you over to a woman you could only assume was Athena. You had been nothing but happy for him that he had finally become himself again. He had gotten sober and even though he hadn’t fully healed from his guilt and grief, he was the happiest he had been in a long time and it warmed your heart to see that.

“It’s so lovely to meet you,” you told her and she was quick to pull you into a hug and you wrapped your arms around her in response.

“The feeling is very mutual,” she told you as she gave your back a light rub before pulling away. “You get in here too,” she gestured to Scarlett who she pulled in for a hug.

You looked at Athena and couldn’t have been more excited to meet the woman who made Bobby feel like Bobby again. From all of his texts and emails, it was clear that they were in love and that was what he had deserved after everything he had been through.

“And these are Athena’s children May and Harry and her ex-husband Michael.” They all received hugs as well and you were offered a drink as you waited for everyone else to arrive.

“The rest of 118 should be arriving soon and then we can eat,” Bobby announced. “I’m sure you must be hungry.”

“A little, but I’m fine,” you told him just as there was a knock on the door. Bobby ran to answer it and pretty soon, people were filing in.

Your heart warmed as you watched the living room filled with everyone your uncle had called family and you could help but feel honored that he had wanted you to meet them. That he wanted you all to get along and you sure that you would if Bobby liked them.

Your eyes looked over each person and you had to hold in your gasp as your eyes caught onto Evan. He was the “Buck” your uncle always talked about? He worked with your uncle? Your uncle was his boss and you had slept with him.

Buck’s eyes locked on yours and they widened as he went to approach you. What were you doing there? Who did you know that would have invited there? Unless…no. No way. You were Bobby’s niece?

[ginnsbaker]

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (12/?)

Part Summary: You know Leigh well enough to recognize that she never acts without intention. She must have agonized about this too—about that kiss, about you. And she's making it difficult for you to guess just what conclusions she had come to in the time you were apart.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 6.500+ | Warnings: Smut | Author's note: I honestly don't know what else to write in the summary without giving too much away, so without further ado… P.S. No cliffhangers this time ;)

Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI

-

A week after Thanksgiving, as the icy Maine wind whips across the tarmac at Rockland Airport, you find yourself holding a container of lobster cakes—your mother's way of sending a piece of home back with you. Despite her protests about you cutting your visit short, she spent last night in the kitchen, crafting your favorite dish, the smell of butter and ocean filling the house. “Eat these when you miss home,” she had said, pressing the container into your hands with a sad smile. The decision to leave early was anything but easy.

You initially planned to stay five more days in Camden, but Leigh's radio silence prompted you to book a direct flight to Los Angeles. It was eating you up inside; you had to go back. The familiar dark screen of your phone kept you on edge; you hadn't expected Leigh to strictly follow through on her promise not to contact you. She had a way of doing the unexpected. Or maybe you've been so wrapped up in your thoughts that you underestimated how deeply she wanted you that night. And perhaps you've overestimated your own anger, believing it would even slightly lessen your feelings for her.

Sitting in the window seat with the whole row to yourself, you stare at your phone as the flight attendant's voice crackles over the intercom, signaling it's time to switch to airplane mode. Impulsively, you tap out a text to her.

Belated Happy Thanksgiving, Leigh. If you’re free tomorrow evening, maybe we could talk? Perhaps over dinner?

It’s straightforward, maybe too much so, but it’s sent before you can overthink it.

The flight attendant's voice fills the cabin once more, reminding everyone to switch their devices as the plane is about to take off. You comply, toggling the setting and sealing off any immediate replies. The engines roar to life, and as the plane ascends, you try to push away the knot of apprehension tightening in your stomach.

As you wait to fall asleep, you think about Leigh—whether she’s seen your message and what she might be feeling. You wonder about the time apart, recalling the old saying that distance makes the heart grow fonder.

Or does it make it forget instead?

-

You touch down in L.A. just as the date ticks over to December 1st, the clock a little past midnight. The moment the plane reaches the gate, you grab your phone and switch off airplane mode. There's a message from your mom, checking in to see if you've landed safely, and you text her back to let her know you did. Suzie has also texted, saying Foreman called in sick and asking if you can cover at the clinic later. You shoot back a quick reply, saying you just landed, you'll catch some sleep, and might be in late in the morning.

But there’s nothing from Leigh. No text, no missed call, nothing to indicate she received your message or is interested in meeting.

You sigh and, without thinking, tap her name on the screen. The call goes through, and the phone rings as you make your way through the late-night crowd at LAX. It continues ringing, unanswered, until it finally clicks over to voicemail. You mutter a soft curse under your breath. Of course, she's not going to pick up—it's 12:30 in the morning. You consider sending a quick apology text but then reconsider, figuring you've already pushed enough boundaries by calling her this late.

Instead, you slide your phone back into your pocket and head toward baggage claim. You weave through the half-awake travelers and the sterile glow of the airport lights, finally spotting your suitcase trundling along the carousel. You heft it off and make your way through the automatic doors. You glance one more time at your phone, half hoping for a notification, but it's blank. With a sigh, you head for the exit, feeling the exhaustion settle in.

-

You check your inbox first thing in the morning, but there's still nothing from Leigh. You don't have time to overanalyze this again because you're already running late for work.

-

The whole day is swamped, with emergencies piling up alongside a packed schedule of immunizations and follow-ups. Suzie mistakenly booked an entire week's worth of scheduled vaccines for today, a Saturday. She explains that the clients requested to move their appointments to the weekend, adding, “We're closed on Sundays, so I thought today would work.”

You try to hide your frustration, not wanting to lay the blame on her. Your nerves are already frayed, and every hour that passes without a word from Leigh has you feeling more on edge.  As you tend to your patients and give instructions to the staff, you feel the pressure building, a headache beginning to throb behind your eyes. The never-ending stream of clients leaves you with no time to catch your breath. Between each appointment, you plaster on a polite smile, but inside, you're counting down the minutes until you can check out of, well, everything.

As the clock hits seven, you can't take another minute. The clinic has been a madhouse since the doors opened. You barely glance at Suzie as you callously tell her, “Close early. I'm tired.” Without waiting for her response, you trudge straight to your office and slump into your chair, eyes closed against the harsh fluorescent lights. Resting your head back, you exhale slowly, letting the tension drain from your shoulders. The fatigue wraps itself around you like a fog, and for a moment, everything falls away.

A few minutes later, you hear a gentle knock. It's Suzie, standing in the doorway with a paper in her hand. Without opening your eyes, you mutter, “What is it?” Your irritation seeps through, but you’re too drained to rein it in.

Suzie hesitates before stepping into your office, her expression unreadable. She extends the paper towards you. “It's my resignation letter,” she says quietly.

Your eyes snap open, and the paper feels heavier than it should as you take it from her hands. You’ve been nothing short of awful to her all day, snapping at every turn. 

“Is this about today?” you ask. 

She gives you a small, weary smile and points to the date on the letter. “I wrote this last week, right after you left for Maine.”

You glance down at the letter and see that it’s dated exactly a week ago. “Why didn’t you give it to me sooner?”

“I didn’t want to ruin your vacation,” she says softly. “I know how much you needed that break. And honestly, you’ve got enough on your plate right now without me adding to it.”

You can feel the burn of frustration and shame behind your eyes. “You’ve been a rock here, Suzie. I don’t want you to go. Please reconsider.”

She shakes her head gently. “I’ve thought this through. It’s time. I care about this place, and about you, but I need to move on.”

You let out a long breath. “I see. Still, I'm sorry today was so rough,” you say, looking up at her wistfully. You try working your puppy eyes, and for a moment it seems effective as her expression softens into a frown. 

But then she says, “It’s not the clinic or the work I do here. I got an offer for a research position; it's something I've always wanted to try.”

That makes you smile. If that’s the case, then you’re truly happy for her.

“I understand. I wish you hadn't felt the need to keep this to yourself, especially with everything else happening today,” you say, still clutching the paper tightly in your hand, crumpling it slightly.

Suzie shrugs. “I didn't want to add to your stress. Don’t worry, I’ll count the 30 days' notice from today, not the date on my resignation, so you have time to find someone to replace me.”

From that, you know her mind’s already made up. As you read her letter again, your eyes start to sting. You glance back up at her, your vision blurring. “Suzie, thank you,” you mumble thickly.

“Hey, it's okay,” she says gently. “I'm not leaving town. We can still grab lunch whenever. I know how glued to your desk you get, so I'll drag you out for a bite now and then.” You let out a shaky chuckle, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand.

“It's just—I’m going to miss you, and I don’t know how I'll replace you,” you say with a sniffle.

“Missing me is a given,” she says, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “Actually, I might know someone interested in my job.”

Your ears perk up at that. Good help is hard to find these days, especially with more demands from applicants and a tight job market. “Who?” you ask, curious.

Suzie turns around as if she's going to leave without answering, but then she glances over her shoulder, her smirk widening. “Sara.”

-

A little while later, you catch Suzie just as she's finishing up in the lobby.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll lock up. You’ve done enough today,” you say, sending her home. She gives you a grateful smile, slings her bag over her shoulder, and wishes you a good night before heading out.

Finally alone, you take a moment to decompress. Clasping your hands behind your back, you stretch, trying to release the day's tension. A dull ache climbs up your spine, reminding you how tight your muscles are. Unable to hold the position for more than a few seconds, you relax, the discomfort too much to bear. It's hard to tell whether it's from the long-haul flight yesterday, your age creeping up on you, poor posture, or all of the above. 

On a whim, you book a late-night yoga session at the Beautiful Beast, hoping to relieve the tightness in your back. It’s been a while since your last visit.

Afterward, you head to the small bathroom in your office to get ready. It's basic, not meant for much more than washing hands and changing scrubs, but it’s all you've got. Stripping off your day's clothes, you step into the shower, letting the hot water beat down on your back. The steam fills the tiny space, and the heat melts a bit of the stiffness away. After a quick rinse, you towel off and slip into your yoga gear. The stretchy fabric feels liberating after being in stiff work clothes all day. You roll up your yoga mat, tucked behind the office door, and switch off the bathroom light.

As you're about to head out of the clinic, you check your phone, hoping to see something from Leigh. There's nothing—she hasn’t even read your last message. The stonewalling feels all too familiar, and you're tired of it.

You slide into your car, letting out a weary sigh. As you start the engine, thoughts of Suzie's suggestion to hire Sara sneak back into your mind. You can't help but chortle at the idea—it’s so unexpected, almost comical, considering how you know Sara and her standing friends-with-benefits proposition. It feels far-fetched, and knowing Suzie, she was likely just teasing.

The drive to the fitness studio is as mechanical as it gets. You're hardly aware of the turns you take until you park in front of the building. You step out, mind still elsewhere, and open your car door—right into someone walking by.

“Ow!”

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t—” you start to say, cutting yourself off when you see who it is. 

Leigh, of all people, is rubbing her elbow, wincing. Her hair is tied back in a ponytail, and she’s wearing a plain white shirt under a jacket, paired with simple black tights. 

“See me? Lovely excuse,” she quips, her eyes fixed on her arm rather than you. Her expression is primed to unleash more frustration when she finally turns to meet the source of the blunder.

 “I—” Leigh stops, visibly surprised to see you. Quickly, her face smooths into something more neutral. “Y/N. You…you really should watch it.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you say, rubbing the back of your neck. “Are you alright?”

She rubs her elbow once more, then nods slowly. “Just startled me a bit, but I’m fine.”

Once you both regain your bearings, you unconsciously begin rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet, hesitating despite the things you’ve rehearsed in your head all week. Your text message inviting her to meet tonight lingers at the forefront of your mind. But before you can bring it up, Leigh catches you by surprise.

“So, you’re heading in for a class?” she asks casually, as if the last time you saw each other didn’t end with a kiss and a confrontation that put the aforementioned kiss on hold.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I am,” you reply. Then you remember Leigh doesn't work here anymore, but with her mother owning the place, it's no surprise to see her around occasionally. 

Still, you ask, “How about you?”

“You mind if we walk while we talk?” Leigh suggests.

You nod, a little thrown off but managing to say, “Sure, just let me grab my stuff.” 

She waits a few seconds as you gather your belongings, and then you both start walking toward the building. Leigh sets a brisk pace, always a step ahead, and you find yourself almost hurrying to keep up with her.

“I just got back to working here again,” she says after a beat.

Surprised, you ask, “Oh, how did that happen?”

“Long story,” she replies with a slight shrug, her eyes focused ahead.

Unsatisfied with her vague answer, your eyes drift to her lips. Memories of that last kiss flood back—their soft, velvety feel and that distinct taste that’s all hers, like fresh water after a long, grueling hike. It's a taste that's unmistakably Leigh, nothing else like it. As you walk together, you struggle to stay present. This isn’t at all how you pictured your reunion with her would go. Not by a long shot.

“Leigh,” you call out, stopping abruptly. Your voice comes out higher than intended, quivering a bit. You clear your throat and try again, “D-Did you get my text yesterday?”

Leigh glances back over her shoulder, her expression unreadable. “No.”

The bluntness leaves you momentarily stunned. You wait for her to follow up, to ask about the text, but she doesn’t. As you both step into the Beautiful Beast studio, you start to ask if you can talk later, but Leigh gets there first.

“We can pick this up later, Y/N. We should really get to class,” she says, heading into the room full of waiting students without waiting for your answer.

You're left more stumped than ever. Last time, she was almost on her knees, begging for forgiveness. Now, she's acting like nothing happened. How did everything change so much in just a week? With a head full of questions and doubts, you roll out your yoga mat and try to focus on the practice ahead. You can't help but wonder if the kiss you shared with Leigh really happened or if it was just a mirage of your desires.

You struggle through some of the poses, wobbling and nearly toppling over more than once. Leigh, however, doesn't chide or correct you as she used to; she mostly leaves you alone, focusing instead on helping others who are struggling more than you. It makes you feel strangely isolated, even though you know she's just fulfilling her role as an instructor and there are plenty of beginners in tonight’s session.

As the hour winds down, Leigh's soft “Namaste” signals the end of the class. She bows gracefully to the students, and you don't waste a moment, rising immediately to make your way to her as she rolls up her mat.

“Leigh.”

“Hey,” she responds breathlessly, not looking up. Other students pass by, thanking her, and she responds with smiles and cheerful “see you next times.” You stand there, feeling awkward as you wait for a turn.

When the last person leaves, Leigh finally looks up at you. “What's up?” she asks.

You find yourself stuttering, still fixated on the text message. Feeling a bit pathetic about how much it’s affecting you, but you shake it off, remembering why you cut your visit to Camden short. It was because of this—because of her.

“Leigh, can we talk? About... you know, how we left things that night?”

Her face remains jarringly impartial as she wipes down her mat. “Talk? Here? Right now?”

You quickly shake your head. “No, I don't mean right this second,” you clarify, watching her closely to gauge her reaction. Are you the only one feeling like you're on a tightrope? 

“You haven't had dinner yet, right?” You try to sound nonchalant too, but it's a struggle.

She looks around the emptying studio as if she needs a moment to consider. After a few beats, she nods. “Sure, why not? I’ll just change and meet you out front.”

You can't help but smile, mainly out of relief that she said yes. “Great, see you in a minute,” you say, realizing you need to change into drier clothes too.

Fifteen minutes later, Leigh steps out, looking refreshed as if she didn't just burn through a few hundred calories leading a rigorous yoga session. She's wearing a cozy gray sweater and cargo pants, a much more laid-back look compared to your jeans and cardigan.

As she draws near, she tilts her head slightly and says, “I actually brought a car. Have you thought of where we're going to get dinner?”

You scramble to think of a suitable place. In-N-Out pops into your head—quick, easy, but completely wrong for the kind of talk you need to have. You can't imagine hashing out your feelings under the harsh lights of a fast food place, over burgers and fries.

“Um,” you stammer, looking around like inspiration might hit you in the face. 

“How about we head to your apartment?” Leigh suggests out of nowhere. “It's closer, and we could grab some drive-thru on the way.”

You blink at her suggestion, surprised she'd even consider it after everything that went down last time at your place.

“There's only one parking spot,” you say blankly. “And the street has no parking after 10 p.m.”

Leigh seems unfazed, offering a quick solution. “Then we’ll just take your car. I can leave mine here.”

Your nerves flare at the thought of having her back in your apartment. Your tongue feels heavy, and you can't think of a single reason to tell her why it’s a bad idea.

“Okay,” you say slowly. “Let's do that.”

You head to your car together, fumbling with the keys as you unlock it. Leigh slips into the passenger seat, and you take a deep breath before starting the engine. You pull into a drive-thru of In-N-Out and Leigh scrolls through her phone, picking out what to order. 

You know Leigh well enough to recognize that she never acts without intention. She must have agonized about this too—about that kiss, about you. And she's making it difficult for you to guess just what conclusions she had come to in the time you were apart.

-

The takeout is spread across your dining table, a small feast that Leigh ordered for the two of you. Boxes of fries, nuggets, and burgers crowd the surface, enough to feed a group. You barely nibble on a fry while Leigh is already finishing her cheeseburger, wiping her fingers with a napkin and eyeing the remaining food.

“You weren’t hungry, huh?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Guess not,” you reply, wiping away the residual salt from your fingers.

Leigh takes a sip of her drink, washing down the last bite before looking at you with purpose. “Mind if I go first?” she asks.

You narrow your eyes. So, she's eager to dive right in. “Sure, go ahead,” you say. You observe Leigh closely for the first time in what feels like ages. Concealer cakes beneath her eyes, settling into the natural wrinkles there. She’s still undeniably beautiful, but there's a tiredness to her now that’s hard to miss. Her cheeks, usually lifted by her prominent cheekbones, seem hollowed out more than usual.

“I guess I want to start by saying that I'm…” Leigh trails off, her eyes darting around as if the right words might be hidden among the packets of ketchup and silverware. “...a horrible person.”

You open your mouth to protest, but she cuts you off smoothly.

“No, listen. You were right. I ignore you out of nowhere. I take advantage of your kindness. And it’s not just you—I’ve been doing this with everyone around me for a while now. I haven't cared about what others think or feel because I was focused on being true to myself, always playing the ‘dead husband’ card. I’ve taken everyone's patience and understanding for granted, and I’m really, really sorry.”

You sit back, stunned. The whole evening, you'd braced for a different kind of conversation. You expected Leigh to say the kiss was a mistake—just a result of nerves or a lapse in judgment driven by jealousy. You had been so sure she'd shut you down, just like all the other times. 

“You're sorry?” The words slip out unbidden, tinged with surprise and skepticism.

“Yeah,” she says, looking you square in the eye. “I know it's hard to believe, but I really am sorry for how I've treated you.”

It’s going well—too well. Your mind struggles to accept it, but your heart?

“I thought you were going to say that night was a mistake. That the kiss meant nothing,” you whisper so faintly, almost as if you don't want her to hear.

“It kept me up for nights,” Leigh replies just as softly, “and that doesn’t usually happen to me over a simple kiss.”

Your heart soars.

She doesn’t regret it. She’s sorry. This is all going too well.

“It was on my mind the whole time, even when I was all the way across the country,” you whisper wantonly. 

The corners of Leigh’s lips twitch upward, and you can't tell if it's a good sign. Her saying she’s just as affected blinds you to any other cues that might suggest otherwise.

“There’s something else I need to tell you,” Leigh says darkly, leaning back into her chair with a weary slump. “Because I’m done living in half-truths and half-realities. I can’t handle any more surprises.”

You feel a flash of confusion, trying to stitch together what Leigh might say next. She knows about your cheesy alter-ego on her advice column, the details of your past with Matt. But half-truths? What does she mean by that?

Leigh meets your gaze, and there’s something about her stare that tells you she’s coming apart, yet she's clenching every muscle to keep herself intact. You want to reach across the table, to offer a touch that might steady her, but her hands are hidden, clenched in her lap beneath the table. Her shoulders hunch, making her seem smaller, as if she's trying to fold into herself.

“Leigh, just tell me,” you urge, though not impatiently.

She exhales slowly, the breath you hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “I broke up with Danny,” she finally says, and for a brief, absurd moment, relief washes over you. 

That's…it? 

Your smile starts to form, naive in its inception, but it’s quickly stifled as Leigh’s voice drops lower, and her next words cut through the nascent joy. 

“And then he said something I didn't think could drive the dagger Matt left in my heart any deeper,” she says slowly, like she’s having a hard time dragging every syllable.

Leigh takes a deep breath, her chest rising and falling deliberately. “He told me he was pretty involved when you and Matt got together. That you first knew him as Nick, and he helped Matt reach out to you.”

Your heart sinks. You had almost forgotten that night with Danny when you discovered his real identity and how he fit into everything. He'd begged you to keep quiet, and in his desperation, you agreed—not because he pleaded, but because you believed Leigh was happy with him. It wasn’t your secret to reveal, not then.

You've known this all along and never said a word. Your throat tightens as panic sets in, your heart racing with the implications of having kept this from Leigh. Guilt pricks at you, cold and sharp.

“I…” Your voice falters, and you swallow hard, thinking, This is it, this is how I lose her. 

“I didn’t think it was my place to say anything,” you say. “I thought you were happy with him. I didn’t want to be the one to—”

“Y/N,” Leigh interjects softly. Her tone stops you cold—it's not angry, just… defeated. Which, somehow, feels worse. She looks down, twisting a napkin between her fingers. “I’m telling you this because I’m finding out that secrets can be just as hard to handle as loss.”

You nod absentmindedly, still processing, and move to clear the table in a daze. Wrapping up the leftover food, you tuck it into the fridge. The mundane task doesn't ease the tightness in your chest, but it gives your hands something to do.

“You’re not upset I didn’t tell you?” you ask, like you can’t believe you’ll come out of this conversation unscathed.

Leigh takes her time to answer. With your focus on tidying up, you miss the way her hands ball into fists. When she finally speaks, her voice has a steely edge for the first time this evening.

“At first, I was livid, of course. But Danny bore the brunt of it. He claimed he wanted me, but he was never on my side. If he were, he would’ve never helped Matt cheat on me.”

You finish tucking the last container into the fridge and lean back against the counter, your eyes on Leigh. She's staring out the window. How is it that she’s telling you these things, yet it still feels like she’s not revealing anything at all?

“I should’ve told you sooner,” you say softly. “I’m sorry.”

Leigh gets up and walks toward you. She stops so close that your breath catches. You remember the last time she was this near, how the world blurred, and how hard it was to think clearly. You can see the way her jaw tightens as she takes a breath.

“It wasn’t your secret to tell,” she says.

“But—” you start to say, though the thought fizzles out as she steps even closer.

“You're okay in that regard,” she murmurs, her voice low. 

In that regard? 

You want to ask what she means, but Leigh shuffles nearer still, her eyes searching your face. She's so close now that you can see the faint reflection of the kitchen light in her eyes, specs of yellow in darkened green. It’s nothing short of dazzling.

“Do you forgive me for last time?” she asks quietly. 

A lump forms in your throat, and all you can think about is how desperately you don't want to mess this up. You had forgiven her long before stepping onto a plane back to Maine. It happened as soon as you let her walk away that night, but you just couldn't accept how easy it was. 

You nod, unable to trust your ability to speak. 

Leigh's eyes soften as she watches you. Her fingertips brush against your jaw, her touch feather-light. 

“Is it okay if I kiss you, then?” she asks, both careful and seductive.

Your resounding yes comes in the form of you closing the gap, your lips meeting hers like an arrow striking its target. Leigh’s arms wrap around your shoulders instinctively, her fingers brushing the back of your neck, and you pull her in even tighter, deepening the kiss. Her breath mingles with yours as she sighs softly against your mouth, and it’s only then that when you feel all of her that Los Angeles starts to feel like a second home.

There are still questions, an unending list that always surfaces around Leigh, but they evaporate one by one when her tongue flicks out, seeking entrance. You surrender, lips parting, allowing her to taste you. The kiss grows with a messy urgency in seconds. Her hands roam down your back, gripping tightly as she presses in, as if trying to melt into you. You draw her nearer, your chests flush together as the kiss becomes wet and breathless.

Your apartment is silent except for your soft pants and the slick sounds of your lips meeting.  Doubts about your ability to please a woman creep in after such a long hiatus. But before these thoughts can take hold, Leigh takes charge. She grabs your hips and gently guides you backward toward the bedroom, cutting off any chance for you to slow things down.

She breaks the kiss just long enough to slip your cardigan off your shoulders and whisper, her breath warm against your lips, “Should we take this somewhere more comfortable?”

It seems almost unfair for her to pose that question while simultaneously moving to your neck, drawing a soft groan from you. Her teeth gently graze a sensitive spot just below your clavicle, applying pressure that promises to leave a mark, then soothing it with her tongue.

Leigh smirks when she feels you struggle for breath, much less for words. Your knees buckle slightly, but she holds you up with a firm grip, guiding you back until you bump against the edge of the bed. 

You know you're on the verge of something that might change everything, but right now, you're entirely Leigh's. There's no space to consider the implications, to remember that she was Matt's grieving widow just months ago. Right now, she's just the girl who holds your attention completely, the one who couldn't get rid of you even if she tried.

Leigh tumbles with you onto the bed, her thighs straddling your hips. With practiced ease, she removes her shirt and bra all at once, leaving her bare above you. The sight strips you of any last coherent thought. She isn’t the image of perfection peddled in glossy and well-curated social feeds; her body is beautifully real. Her tits look heavy and asymmetrical, round as grapefruit; her nipples pinkish-brown, pebbled and inviting. There’s a soft fold in her belly, and an overwhelming desire washes over you to kiss it. You think you might die just from looking at her.

You look up at Leigh and tell her, reverently, “You’re so devastatingly beautiful.” 

Leigh's cheeks flush as she tries to hide her smile behind her hair. “You don't have to tell me that,” she whispers. “You already got me into your bed.”

You chuckle, nerves still humming under the surface. “You were just as beautiful when devouring a cheeseburger.” Both of you laugh, the sound light and easy, allowing some of the thick sexual energy to dissipate slightly. 

You find yourself relaxing just enough to admit, “I'm not sure how to touch you right, but I want to make you feel good.”

“Just do whatever feels good for you,” she suggests, her expression softening further.

You scrunch your face a little at her, letting out a small chuckle. “That’s the thing—I haven't been getting much action myself.”

Leigh’s smile spreads wider into something mischievous and you swallow dryly at the sight. She shifts off your lap and settles at your side, propping herself up on one arm to look down at you. “Let me help you with that,” she murmurs, her voice low.

You're no longer smiling, feeling your face flush as you ask, “What do you have in mind?”

Instead of answering, Leigh’s fingers trace down to the button of your pants, deftly unfastening it. She gently scratches the skin beneath with her fingernail before sliding the zipper down. You watch as she bites her lip at the sight of the wet patch on your underwear before glancing back up at you. Her pupils are wide, the deep green of her irises barely visible in the surrounding darkness.

“Take them off,” she instructs softly.

You swallow heavily and do as she says, trying not to cover yourself despite feeling incredibly vulnerable. You haven't been naked in front of anyone in so long, and you're embarrassed by how exposed and wet you are right now.

Leigh watches you closely, and you can see the desire burning in her gaze. With her free hand, she reaches for you, her touch gentle, coaxing your thighs open as she trails her fingers up your inner thigh. You draw a sharp breath and close your eyes, expecting her fingers to graze your wetness next.

But Leigh surprises you—and herself—by guiding your right hand just below your navel, her fingers warm and sure on your wrist. Her times with Danny were about dominating and taking, but with you, she wants to give, to watch, to soak up every moan, every breathy reaction, every shiver. She wants to see you take pleasure for yourself, deriving her own pleasure from it.

“Start there,” she murmurs, her breath hot against your ear. “Tease yourself.”

Your hand hovers there, and she gives a slight nod of encouragement. As her touch slips away, you begin to explore the softness of your own skin, tracing light circles below your belly button. You utter a soft, “Fuck,” when your fingertips graze your slick, discovering just how turned on you really are. The filthy noises it creates make you whimper.

Leigh watches you hungrily. “You should be doing this more often,” she murmurs, eyes tracing the movement of your fingers now glistening with your own arousal. “You're so fucking hot. It's such a shame.”

The sound of her voice makes you arch your back further, hips bucking as you start a wide circular motion against your clit. Exerting every ounce of control not to come right away, you focus on the sensation of Leigh's eyes on you and the stimulation from your own fingers. You want to hold out, to let her watch you teeter on the edge. Your teeth dig into your lower lip, trying to curb the wave of pleasure building inside you.

Leigh's voice is a soothing command, whispering, “That's it, be patient. Don't rush it.”

“Fuck, Leigh, I’m—” Your words die in your throat as she lifts your shirt slowly, exposing your nipple to the cool air for a brief moment before her mouth engulfs it. The sensation of her sucking, then laving your nipple with her tongue, circling it, mimicking the motion you're doing on your clit, sends a jolt through you. Little flicks of her tongue to the tip of your nipple drive you crazy, and you gasp, your body responding eagerly to her touch.

Your rhythm stutters as she discards her pants and panties in one swift motion, leaving her gloriously bare. The sight of her naked body ignites a strong wave of desire to touch her instead, but Leigh pins you with a warning glare, silently telling you not to stop.

She straddles one of your legs, and you gasp when you feel her warm, wet pussy against your knee as she starts rocking against it. You position your leg to give her better leverage, and she starts sliding against you, her tits bouncing with each motion. Leigh's sucking on your nipple becomes sloppier, more frantic, until she can no longer concentrate and releases it with a wet pop.

“Oh, fuck, Y/N—” 

Leigh’s face contorts in pleasure as her drenched folds meet your thigh over and over, sweat dripping down between her breasts from the strain of holding herself up above you. The sight of her fucking herself against your leg is nothing short of mesmerizing. You increase the movements of your fingers, rubbing harshly at your clit as you watch Leigh, her breath coming in short gasps. Her eyes flutter closed, and a soft moan escapes her lips. The sound drives you wild, and you curve your spine, lifting your hips to meet your own hand.

Sex with anyone else has never felt this good before, and she hasn’t even properly touched you yet. It’s intoxicating, the way she takes her pleasure and gives it to you all at once. You’re lost in the haze of it all: the smell of Leigh’s arousal, her sweat-soaked skin, the sight of her tits bouncing and her face flushed with desire.

With your free hand, you grab the back of Leigh's head, guiding her down towards you. “C-Come here,” you manage to say, your voice breaking with need. 

Leigh obeys, her mouth meeting yours in a frenzied kiss. You swallow each other's moans, the taste of her lips sending a fresh wave of desire coursing through you. It's this simple, sweet connection of lips that utterly dissolves all your defenses.

A keening moan escapes you as Leigh slides a finger inside you, pushing deep to the third knuckle, causing your head to tip back and break the kiss as the tightness in your belly becomes too much. “Leigh, can I—” Your voice is a mere whisper, your body trembling with the effort to hold back.

Leigh's eyes meet yours, and she nods vigorously, her breath coming in short gasps. “Yes, come. Come with me.”

It's too much—the sight, the sounds, the feel of her—it’s all too much. With a final, shuddering whine, you let go, your orgasm crashing over you. Your body convulses, muscles clenching and releasing as you ride out the intense pleasure. Moments later, Leigh follows, her body shaking as she comes, her moans mingling with yours. Leigh’s face is a picture of bliss, her eyes half-closed, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. You try to memorize it before she collapses on top of you, a sweaty mess of tangled limbs and satisfied sighs.

Blindly, you stare up at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath, feeling Leigh's hot puffs of air tickle your neck as she catches hers. Slowly, you circle your arms around her waist, keeping her on top of you, acutely aware of every point where your skin meets hers, the warmth spreading between you. 

You bury your nose in her hair and breathe in deeply. This act feels more intimate than anything you had done moments ago. The simple closeness, the quiet afterglow, the way you can actually feel her heart beating steadily against your chest.

Minutes pass in comfortable silence, your thumb tracing lazy patterns on her back. Her breathing gradually evens out, each exhale growing softer and deeper. Realizing she's fallen asleep, a contented smile spreads across your face. You press a gentle kiss to her temple, letting your lips linger there for a moment. Carefully, you reach for the covers and draw them over both of you. You hold her close until your own eyelids grow heavy, and you drift off to sleep as well.

[meangirls-imagines]

Coachella Diaries

Description: Reader works for WWE and gets hurt during Wrestlemania, causing her to go on a months long break. She goes to Coachella Weekend 2 to support her girl.

WARNINGS: fluffy as shit, slightly suggestive at the end, reneechella (bc that's a warning itself)

Y/N stepped (as best as she could) off the plane and sighed at the California sun hitting her body. 

Her body was exhausted. Wrestlemania was the 6th and 7th, she performed both nights and unfortunately had torn a couple of ligaments in her foot. She worked through the pain and helped make Wrestlemania record breaking. She had gotten surgery on the 16th, which meant she unfortunately missed the first weekend of her girlfriend playing Coachella.

Reneè was also understandably upset, not at Y/N, but at the fact that her girlfriend had to get surgery and she couldn't be there. Luckily for Reneè, Y/N had her fellow superstars keep the blonde updated. The doctor had cleared Y/N for travel on the 18th and she landed in LAX on the morning of the 19th. 

Towa had been the one to help Y/N plan this out, picking her up from the airport. The musician smiled as Y/N hobbled towards her with her bag. "There's my favorite cripple! How's the foot?" Y/N smiled and hugged the girl. "It's definitely injured. I'll be out for a minute but honestly, I'm not mad, I need a break."

Towa laughed. "Ain't that the truth? If I have to hear Reneè freak out about every bump you take, I might've gone crazy." Y/N blushed. Reneè was always very protective of Y/N, not that her profession helped with that. The blonde loved and hated watching Y/N do her thing. Yes, Y/N looked hot but if Y/N had to take another spear from Roman Reigns or a stomp to the chest from Finn Balor, Reneè was going to commit murder. 

This new era of WWE meant the return of inter-gender wrestling, with Y/N leading the charge. She had become the inaugural WWE World Heavyweight Champion, holding it for 316 days. She had been a part of the two biggest main events of Wrestlemania history, which is where she tore the ligaments in her foot. Never the less, she persisted and opened the next night of Mania, unfortunately she lost her title but the ovation she got when she got backstage was worth it. 

She was thrilled to help Cody finish his story but also was happy that she could get a break. She saw the doctor who gave her the diagnosis and what doctor to see and she was on her way.

She had messaged Towa the night she found out and set the surprise up. 

As the two ventured out of the airport, they caught up with each other, Towa informing Y/N of her love life and what not. The two reached the SUV and began the drive from the airport to the AirBnB they were renting for the festival. During the two hour car ride, Y/N had told Towa about some backstage drama happening as the Brit ate it up.

After 2 and a half hours, they finally made it to the house. Adam had been standing outside, waiting for them as they pulled up. The man helped Y/N out of the car and gave her a hug. "There's my favorite former champ! Congrats on the run. It was a rollercoaster." Y/N smiled and hugged the man back. "Thanks Adam! It was definitely a rollercoaster! A fun one though! So, where is my girl?"

Adam laughed. "She's out in the back with everyone else, they're pregaming before we go. Are you sure you can handle going out?" Y/N nodded. "I slept on the plane ride here. Perks of using the company jet." Adam nodded as Towa met up with them, handing Y/N her bag. The trio headed inside. 

Adam and Towa headed to the back to distract everyone while Y/N slipped into the room Reneè was staying in. She took in a deep breath, breathing in the scent of Reneè. God, she missed it so much. She changed quickly, putting on the custom "Reneèchella made me gay" shirt and some shorts before getting the message from Towa to make her appearance. 

She grabbed a beer from the fridge and headed out to the backyard. The group all did a "cheers" before taking the shots provided for them. Y/N decided to speak up. "Do I get a shot too?" 

Everyone turned towards the new voice but no one turned quicker than Reneè. The blonde stood shocked at the sight of her girlfriend, boot and all, standing in front of her. "Holy fuck! Reneè ran to where Y/N was standing and hugged the girl tightly. Y/N laughed and kissed the blonde's head. "Hey superstar. I've missed you." Everyone was aww-ing at the scene, some clapping. 

Reneè pulled away from the hug and pressed her lips to Y/N's, kissing her for the first time in weeks. The group cheered as the two kissed, causing Reneè to slip them off. After a minute, the two pulled away and Reneè began to scratch the back of Y/N's neck. "You're really here!" Y/N smiled and kissed her nose. "I am. Now I think it's time to have some fun." Reneè smiled and pulled Y/N over to her friends. 

The group was watching Chappell Roan absolutely kill it when fans began to notice the couple being all cute.

@y/nisthechamp: GUYS! I'M AT COACHELLA WATCHING THE QUEEN CHAPPELL ROAN AND RENEÈ AND Y/N ARE LITERALLY 10 FEET AWAY FROM ME AND THEY ARE SO CUTE!! Y/N IS HUGGING RENEÈ FROM BEHIND AND THEY ARE SINGING AND DANCING!!

@/reneerappslut23: guys. i just saw a video of reneè and y/n all cozy at coachella and my heart 🥺

@y/nfan123: just saw a video of reneè grinding on y/n while they were watching t-pain. don't know who i wanna be more...

@/reneefan253: guys. reneè cannot keep her hands off y/n. she's always rubbing her back or the back of her head or her shoulder. WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN?!

The group made their way back to the house, all breaking off to their respective rooms, sleepily exchanging good nights. Reneè and Y/N made their way to Reneè's room. The two flopped on the bed, Reneè snuggling into Y/N's side. "I'm so glad you're here. I can't wait for you to see me perform." Y/N kissed the blonde's forehead. "Me too baby."

The next day was a lot of the same, more musicians sets, more drinking, etc. Sunday came a lot faster than Y/N expected and she found herself sitting in Reneè's trailer with her, the girl getting ready for her set. Reneè was looking on her phone as her hairstylist finished up her look. Y/N decided to take a stealthy picture and post it on her insta with the caption "coachella ready", tagging Reneè. 

Comments started flooding in immediately. One that stood out to Y/N was from her not older sister Liv Morgan.

@/yaonlylivvonce: We are so excited to see her!! Drinks after?

Y/N smiled and responded to the girl. Adam poked his head in and informed Reneè she had five minutes. The blonde thanked him, took a deep breath and pulled Y/N with her to the wings of the stage. To Y/N and Reneè's surprise, Alyah was waiting for them. Reneè squealed, wrapping Alyah in a tight hug. Y/N smiled at the pair and took a picture of them hugging. Alyah pulled away and hugged Y/N too, scolding her about her injury and how she should've been more careful. 

Reneè saved Y/N by pulling her away from Alyah, wrapping her arms around Y/N's waist and burying her face in her neck. Y/N rubbed the blonde's back. "You're gonna do amazing out there Reneè. Please remember to drink water though. Don't need you passing out on stage." Reneè chuckled as she heard her intro being played. 

"Well, I guess that's me." Reneè pulled her head out of Y/N's neck, leaning up for a kiss. "I love you." Y/N smiled and pecked Reneè's lips. "I love you more. Now go kill it." And with a playful smack on the butt, Reneè went out on stage.

"Tasted the blood in my mouth, and left you there to bleed out.."

Y/N being there must have flipped a switch in Reneè because the girl was putting on a SHOW. Y/N had to keep herself from drooling watching her girlfriend do what she loved. Y/N's fav part do far had to be the Willow ass shake. For scientific reasons, of course. Y/N saw Towa getting her in-ears put in and grabbing her guitar. "Go kill it out there, Birdie." Towa winked playfully at Y/N and went out on her cue from the blonde. 

The two were soon joined by Coco Jones as they performed "Tummy Hurts". Y/N smiled at hoe happy her girl looked. Watching Reneè perform was Y/N's favorite thing to do. She loved how confident Reneè was on stage and how carefree she looked. 

After a beautiful rendition of "Snow Angel", Reneè gave her thanks to the crowd and jogged off stage. One of the crew guys poured a little bit of water on the back of Renee's neck, to cool her off, as the girl walked straight into Y/N's open arms, almost collapsing in the embrace.

"Fuck Reneè, I'm so fucking proud of you, superstar." Reneè blushed and hid her face in Y/N's neck. "I couldn't have done it without you here." Y/N laughed and kissed the blonde's temple. "You did it last weekend." Reneè pulled away from Y/N's neck and smiled at her. "Yeah, but it wasn't as fun." Y/N rolled her eyes and kissed Reneè, unaware of Towa taking a picture of them. 

Everyone praised Reneè and her performance before they walked back to the area where her trailer was. Alyah spoke up. "So, what's the plan now?" Reneè smirked and looked at Y/N. "Well, Y/N and I are going to go back to the house to...catch up and we'll meet you guys later?" Towa and Alyah shared a knowing look before nodding and going to watch another set. 

Y/N looked at Reneè confused. "Catch up?" The blonde nodded. "Mhhm. I'm planning on reclaiming my favorite seat..." Y/N caught on and blushed, allowing the blonde to pull her to the car waiting for them.

Yeah, Towa and Alyah would be fine on their own for a while...

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ photograph ] j. drysdale

paring : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) decides to fly out to Philly for Valentine’s Day after watching Jamie say in an interview that he’ll probably be spending the day alone

warning(s) : just some tooth rotting fluff with no angst for once, a heavy makeout

author’s note : this is just a (not so) lil fluff filled thing bc i wanted to write something for belated valentine’s day. sorry or you’re welcome (idk)

༺═──────────────═༻

“Yeah, uh, I don’t actually have any plans tomorrow,” he explains to a reporter through the screen on her phone. “Everyone I know here does have plans and everyone else I know is across the country so I’ll most likely spend the day putting together furniture in my new apartment.”

That was the moment she decided that she was getting on the first flight she possibly could to Philly so Jamie didn’t spend Valentine’s Day alone. No one should have to spend the day alone. She doesn’t have any plans and she’s off from work for about two weeks because they’re doing renovations so a little trip to Philadelphia doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.

Last year he spent the day with Trevor on the couch and watched movies in their shared apartment. This year, he is in Philly and Trevor actually has a girlfriend. Not very ideal for Jamie.

She isn’t Jamie’s girlfriend, but she is one of his best friends and could never let him be alone on Valentine’s Day. Especially not after hearing what his actual plans are for tomorrow. She’s going to at least help him put furniture together in his apartment.

A flight out of LAX is scheduled for 10 that night. It’s six so she has about two hours to pack for a week long trip to Philly. She even buys a ticket for Saturday’s game at MetLife since she wants to see Jamie play a game while she’s in Philly.

By eight, she’s out the door with a suitcase that’s packed full of clothes and non-liquid toiletries. The jersey Jamie sent her about a week after the trade is neatly folded with the rest of her clothes. She orders an Uber to drive her to the airport.

While in the Uber, she debates texting Jamie and telling him that she’ll be at his new apartment early tomorrow morning since she’ll be landing a little before six in the morning. It’ll probably take about 45 minutes after she lands before she’s on Jamie’s doorstep.

Maybe a surprise wouldn’t be the worst thing so she puts her phone away until she has to pull out her plane ticket.

Getting on the plane takes an hour between getting past TSA and buying snacks for the nearly five hour flight. She boards the plane twenty minutes before it takes off so she has time to get comfortable.

She’s asleep before the plane even leaves the ground.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

All the snacks she bought before the flight are going to be the snacks she eats while she’s in Philly because she slept for the entire flight. It didn’t feel like she slept for 5 hours but she did.

By six, she’s at baggage claim and grabbing her suitcase. She orders an Uber to Voorhees while she waits for her things. The car is waiting for her when she get outside.

It’s a lot colder out than she thought it was going to be. All she has on is a Ducks hoodie that Jamie gave to her the year before and a pair of leggings with Uggs on her feet. Her feet are warm. The rest of her is not. She shakes as she puts her things in the trunk of the car.

She gives the driver Jamie’s new address and she’s off to surprise her best friend.

The closer she gets to Jamie’s, the more nervous she gets. What if he found someone after moving to the Philly area? What if the whole putting furniture together comment was a lie so he didn’t announce to the entire world he was in a relationship? What if he doesn’t want her there in general?

Maybe a spontaneous trip across the country without at least letting Jamie know she was coming wasn’t the best idea she’s ever had.

A call comes through from Trevor. Confused, she answers the phone. “Good morning?”

“Are you in Philly?” he asks.

“Maybe,” she slowly replies as she watches the Philly skyline pass. “Why? It’s like three in the morning.”

“Not for you apparently,” he retorts. “I looked to see where you were because Mason said you weren’t replying to his texts so I wanted to make sure you were okay and I see that you flew across the country.”

She smiles and shakes her head. The way Trevor would find out she’s in Philly is by checking her location. He and Jamie are the only ones that have her location because she’s closest with them.

“Just wanted to surprise Jamie,” she tells Trevor. “That’s all. Tell Mason I’ll call him later because I’m about ten minutes away from Jamie’s apartment.”

“You gonna tell him you love him?” Trevor questions. She opens her mouth to object but he keeps talking. “It’s so freaking obvious so don’t even lie to me.”

A nervous laugh passes her lips. “We’ll see,” she replies. “I’ll talk to you later, Z.”

“Tell me how he’s really doing,” he tells her. “I worry about him sometimes.”

“Will do,” she says as the driver pulls up to Jamie’s place. “Talk soon.”

The line goes dead and she looks out the window at the apartment building. Jamie’s somewhere in there asleep and she’s about two minutes away from calling him to come let her into the building.

She gets her things out of the trunk and thanks the driver before he drives off to pick someone else up. She sighs and pulls up Jamie’s contact.

When she presses the ‘call’ button, it rings about four times before Jamie answers. The entire time, her hands are shaking and she isn’t sure if it’s because of the cold or if she’s nervous to see Jamie for the first time since the trade.

“It’s like four in the morning,” he croaks when he picks up. “Are you okay?”

She smiles at the sound of his morning voice. “Actually it’s almost seven in the morning and I’m currently freezing my ass off outside your apartment building so if you could come let me in, that would be great,” she says.

It sounds like Jamie falls out of bed when she says that she’s outside of the building. If he broke anything then she’s going to have to explain to Torts why Jamie will be out for six weeks.

He isn’t holding any body parts when he swings the door open and blankly stares at her from the top of the steps of the building. He blinks a few times like he’s trying to decide if he’s still dreaming or if he’s awake. She waves and a barefoot Jamie runs down the stairs to hug her.

A laugh passes her lips and she wraps her arms around his torso. “You’re actually here,” he says against her ear. “I thought you were lying to me.”

“Nope,” she replies. “I’m here. I didn’t have anything else to do so I thought I’d come surprise you. Help you put together some furniture for Valentine’s Day.”

Jamie pulls back from the hug just enough to look at her. “You saw that interview?” he asks.

With a nod and a smile, she replies, “It sounded like a very boring way to spend Valentine’s Day so I thought I’d come keep you company. Maybe watch you play at the outdoor game this weekend. I have another week off from work and spending it in the Philly area with my best friend didn’t sound like the worst idea.”

“You are actually insane for buying a plane ticket without knowing if I’d be here or not,” he tells her. “I could’ve left for Toronto before you got here since we play them tomorrow.”

“Yeah I know how your travel schedule works,” she retorts. “That’s how I knew you’d be here.”

He shakes his head and grabs her suitcase. “You have some of the best timing because I took a maintenance day today so I have a day off from practice, but I leave tomorrow morning for Toronto,” he says to her as they walk into the building together.

“Listen, I’m spending a week in the area,” she replies. “I get to watch you play at the outdoor game on Saturday when I wasn’t planning on being on the east coast at all. If you’re gone for a day or two then it’s fine.”

The smile that forms on Jamie’s face makes her heart do somersaults in her stomach.

She can tell how excited he is that she decided to visit him. She knows how much he has been missing Anaheim so she brought Anaheim to him for a week.

When Jamie opens the door to the apartment, she is very surprised by how decorated it is and how much of the stuff he had in his Anaheim apartment has made its way to this one. It still needs some work done, but that is why she’s here. She’s here to help him finish putting it all together.

“I need to build some shelves,” Jamie tells her. “And put together the guest bedroom. The frame still needs to be built for the guest bed too. This is what my plans were for the day.”

She turns her head to look at him as he closes the door behind them. “So it wasn’t come ruse so you didn’t have to admit to the world that you had a secret girlfriend?” she questions.

If she should expect Jamie to have a girl over then she might as well get the girlfriend question out of the way early on in her visit.

“Uh, no,” he replies. “No secret girlfriend. I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had any time to find a girlfriend. Yorky has tried but he’s not the best wingman.”

She can’t help but laugh. Jamie smiles and rolls her suitcase to the unfinished bedroom.

She decides to make some coffee for the two of them so they can get started on the day’s plans. They have to put together the guest room and build some shelves. It can’t be very hard to do either of those things. Right?

Wrong.

It turns out that Jamie can’t follow simple instructions to save his life. She has had to refrain from throwing whatever is in her hand at him so many times because he can’t read a piece of paper.

“Jamie, what am I supposed to do with this screw?” she asks as she holds up an extra screw. “Do I have to put it in your head so you can use your brain or something? You missing one in there? Do I need to get Trevor on the first flight out of LAX to come help you figure out how to read the instructions?”

Jamie looks up from his spot on the floor and throws the instructions at her. “Here, you try to read this and tell me if it makes any sense,” he retorts. “It’s all confusing. My parents helped me build shelves when they came to visit a few weeks ago. I didn’t have to do this. Maybe it’s just an extra.”

She grabs the pamphlet and reads the directions. The screw was supposed to be put in when putting the shelves in place. A shelf is missing a screw.

“You dumbass,” she says. “It’s not an extra screw. It was supposed to be put in on the bottom shelf to make sure it is secure and even. You now have an unsecure shelf in your guest room.”

Jamie flattens out on his back on the carpeted floor with a groan. “This is why I’m a hockey player and don’t work in home improvement,” he says as he rubs his eyes. She laughs and tries to keep her eyes on his face instead of on the sliver of skin that peeks out between what is a new Flyers t-shirt and pajama pants. “This is so dumb. I am not about to take that whole thing apart to put one screw in.”

She walks over and slaps the pamphlet on his stomach. He gasps and sits up with the paper in his hands. “Then get it together, Drysdale,” she tells him. “We have a bed frame to build.”

“Fuck the bed frame,” he sighs as she grabs the box in the corner and drags it into the center of the room. “You don’t need a bed to sleep in tonight.”

With a light laugh, she teases, “If we don’t get it set up then I’m gonna be sleeping in your bed until we get it put together.”

Jamie mutters something that sounds like “would be okay with me” but she pretends she doesn’t hear it. She can’t hear it or else she will just say “fuck it” and sleep in Jamie’s bed the entire time she’s here instead of putting the bed together.

The mattress is sitting up against the wall next to where the box with the bed frame was. He has everything he needs to put this bed together and he hasn’t done it yet. Not even over the All Star break when he had a few days off before going to Mexico with the Flyers.

Putting the bed together takes less time and a lot less arguing back and forth. Within an hour, the mattress is on top of the bed frame. Five-foot-eleven 185 pound Jamie flops on the mattress to make sure it’s secure and won’t fall apart if someone were to jump on it.

They do not need to have another shelf problem with the bed that she will most likely be sleeping on while she’s in the area. If it is like the shelf and it’s not safe to sleep on then the couch is in the living room for a reason.

The two of them stand in the doorway and look at their work when they decide the bed is secure. “We make an amazing team,” she comments. “Aside from the shelf.”

Jamie groans and walks down the hallway to his own room. “Shelves are stupid anyway,” he replies. “Who is actually going to use them in this room aside from me just putting a handful of books and pictures on them?” She laughs and goes to unpack her stuff now that it’s safe to do so without stepping on wood, metal or a screw on the floor.

The Flyers jersey that he sent her gets hung up in the closet along with her shirts, hoodies, and nicer pants. She’ll pull bras, panties, and socks out of the suitcase as needed. The beanie she brought to wear on Saturday is put on the bedside table.

Then she pulls out the gift that she brought for Jamie. It isn’t much but she’s hoping that it means as much to him as it does to her. The pictures she brought were taken at such important moments in Jamie’s career and she hopes that he doesn’t mind having a few pictures of his best friend around the apartment.

She walks down to Jamie’s bedroom and knocks gently on the door. There are footsteps behind it before the door swings open. “I, um, had these printed and framed in case I ever came to visit you,” she tells him as she holds out the three picture frames. “Thought you might need some décor.”

Jamie looks down at the pictures and shifts through them.

One of them was taken on Jamie’s Draft Day. He has on a Ducks jersey and she has on his Ducks hat. He looks so happy. He has an arm around her shoulders while he holds up six fingers and is smiling at the camera. She has a smile on his face and is looking up at him with a proud look on her face. Messy ponytail and all.

The second one was taken the day Jamie made his NHL debut and scored his first goal. It’s a selfie she took of her, Jamie, and Trevor at dinner that same night. They’re both holding their pucks because they went right from the arena to a restaurant to eat.

The third one was taken during the 2021 World Juniors tournament where Canada placed second. She’s putting the silver medal back around his neck after he had given it to her. “Silver just means you lost” is what he had said to her a moment before this was captured. She had told him that she was a winner to him and put the medal back around his neck. There is heavy eye contact between the two of them in their matching jerseys.

It was as the third picture was being taken she realized that she loved Jamie. The first two pictures, she knew she had feelings for him, but the third was when she realized that she wanted to be there for him as more than just a friend.

“I had no idea you had any of these,” he says after he’s done looking through them. Jamie looks up at her. “All at different points of my career.”

“Been with you since day one,” she replies with a smile on her face. “You didn’t think that I wouldn’t be here with you while you succeed in a whole new city, did you?”

Jamie laughs and shakes his head. “Absolutely not,” he tells her. “You always make sure you’re a presence in my life.” He pauses and looks right at her. “It’s one of the things I love most about having you in my life.”

She could almost cry when he says that.

There have been so many times over the years where she thought she was annoying or that he wanted her out of his life. She followed him to California when he started playing with the Gulls then the Ducks. He asked her to come with him, but she thought for months it was out of pity.

He has erased years of insecurity with one comment.

“Thanks for keeping me in your life,” she replies after a brief moment of silence.

“You’re like Trevor,” he teases. “You’re always around. It would be hard for me to get rid of you.”

She smiles up at him. “Except he would never fly across the country to see you,” she retorts. “Especially without at least telling you he was coming to see you.”

Jamie laughs. “No, he wouldn’t.”

They look at each other for a second before he walks past her. He has the picture frames in his hand as he walks into the living room. She follows him even though she is confused with what he’s doing.

He puts the picture of himself, Trevor, and (Y/N) on the coffee table under the lamp next to the couch. It’s the most public place in the entire place so it makes sense that that’s the picture that is put in the living room.

The picture of the two of them on Draft Day goes on a little table that leads to the hallway with both bedrooms and bathrooms. The table is under a little mirror that’s been hung up. A little less public but it also joins the other pictures that were taken that day. It looks like it belongs.

Jamie glances at her and walks back into his bedroom. She follows right behind him and stands in the doorway of his room. Her eyes are on the picture of the two of them at the 2021 World Juniors as it’s placed on Jamie’s bedside table.

“This one means the most to me so it deserves a little more privacy than the others,” Jamie tells her without a look in her direction. “You were there for me and picked me up when I was down. I didn’t want anyone else there but you. You were the one that convinced me silver was okay. The team worked hard to get to that moment. The medal was very well deserved because we did everything we could to make it to that game. I did everything I could to get the team to that game. We just came up a little bit short.”

She pouts and walks further into the room. He finally looks over at her. “I didn’t know you felt that way,” she softly says to him. “I didn’t know that I was the person that convinced you it was okay to wear silver around your neck.”

“I needed silver because my gold medal was you,” Jamie shakily admits. His voice is soft. “You’re my gold medal.”

His words have her speechless. Her jaw drops in surprise. She has no idea why he’s saying this to her now.

He reaches out to her and brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She takes a step forward and feels her heart race in her chest as she looks up at him. Her body shakes as she realizes that their relationship is changing.

A line that she never expected to cross is about to be crossed. She can see it in Jamie’s eyes as they examine her face, landing on her lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

She nods because she doesn’t trust herself to speak. She is afraid that she’s going to admit how long she’s been in love with him if she says a single words.

So she nods, and Jamie leans down to capture her lips in a soft, hesitant kiss. He’s testing the waters to see if she’ll push him away.

She’ll never push him away.

Not when she finally has him like this. Not when she finally knows what it feels like to kiss Jamie Drysdale.

When she feels him begin to pull away, she wraps her arms around his neck and leans more into him to deepen the kiss instead of Jamie breaking it. Her fingers find a home in his hair.

She is scared he will regret it if the kiss breaks, and she doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want to see that look. It might break her if he looks at her like that if the kiss breaks.

Jamie cups her cheek and brushes his thumbs over her cheekbone. She melts against him with a sigh.

“(Y/N),” he mumbles after a second. “I need to breathe.”

That’s when she lets him pull away. The sight of his red, swollen lips and unruly hair is almost too much for her. There’s a hint of a smile on his face and something overcomes her.

“I love you,” she tells him. “I’ve loved you since that was taken.” She points in the direction of the picture on his bedside table. “It’s always been you, Jamie. That’s why I flew across the country on Valentine’s Day. I wanted to be with you today because I miss you and I love you.”

Jamie smiles and brushes his thumb over her own lips that are as red and swollen as his are. “I love you too,” he says. “I think I’ve been in love with you since I saw you at my first NHL game in my jersey. I’m very happy you came to the east coast to watch me play in the Stadium Series game this weekend. I was going to probably fly you out anyway.”

She laughs and shakes her head before burying her face in his chest. They’ve been in love with each other for years and are only now saying something about it after Jamie was traded to Philly and she’s stuck in Anaheim for right now.

“Only took me bringing you pictures to finally kiss me,” she teases.

He rolls his eyes. “Shut up and come here.”

Their lips meet in a heated kiss. Everything they’ve been feeling is coming out in the kiss. Jamie tugs her until she is sitting on his lap while he’s sitting on the mattress. She drapes her arms over his shoulders.

It’s that moment when she realizes they put together a whole bed for no reason because there is now no way she is getting in that bed now.

She pushes him down until Jamie is lying flat on his back and their chests are flush against each other. Her hair creates a curtain around their faces despite his fingers curling in her locks.

“Wait, hold on,” Jamie says. She pulls back from the kiss. “Have something to ask you before we get distracted.”

“Hm?”

“Will you come to family skate on Friday before the game at MetLife?” he asks. “As my girlfriend?”

The biggest smile forms on her lips. “You’re going to have to give me skating lessons because despite watching you play hockey for years, I have no idea how to skate,” she tells him.

“I will give you skating lessons,” Jamie laughs. “You’ll come though?”

She nods and kisses him. “I’ll come.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

yourusername

liked by jamie.drysdale, philadelphiaflyers, and 193,872 others

yourusername life recently w my 🤍

view all 15,982 comments

fan1 JAMIE HAS A GIRLFRIEND ????

masonmctavish23 ig i forgive you for not answering my texts last week

yourusername we can hang out when i get back into cali on wednesday

masonmctavish23 good. i’m mad that jamie stole you from us

fan2 oh my god. this is so cute

fan3 you were at metlife ??? i think i walked past you at one point

yourusername i had on the drysdale jersey

trevorzegras oh this is all i’m gonna hear about when she gets back

leocarlssoon it’s about time. i was praying this would happen bc the way jamie talked about you was insane

jamie.drysdale let me live !!

philadelphiaflyers Thanks for coming out

jamie.drysdale skating w my girlfriend for the first time was the best feeling 🩵

yourusername being your girlfriend is the best feeling

༺═──────────────═༻

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[miriellesandthegiantpeach]

Re-Do | Bucktommy

Buck and Tommy are standing just inside Harbor’s helicopter hangar. There’s a duffle bag in Tommy’s hand and Buck is looking pensively at the chopper waiting for Tommy. It feels eerily similar to standing outside the LAX terminal saying goodbye to Abby all those years ago. Even though Buck knows that Tommy isn’t leaving indefinitely; it’s just a special deployment to Vegas because there’s a wildfire that’s gotten out of hand. Two weeks tops, then I'll be back, you won’t even have time to miss me. Tommy said to Buck as they drove to the station.

“Baby? Did you hear me?” Tommy asks and Buck comes back to the present turning to Tommy.

“Huh? Sorry, I was lost in thought-” Buck sighs.

“Clearly,” Tommy laughs and grabs Buck’s hand. “I should be going, I’ll be home in no time, okay? Thanks for driving me.”

Dropping his shoulders in a slouch, Buck breathes out, “Yeah, yeah, okay.” He pulls Tommy in close by the hand to kiss him soundly. “Come back to me,” Buck whispers against Tommy’s lips.

“Always, baby.” Tommy smiles at his boyfriend and understands his worries - Buck is used to being left, but he also knows not to bring attention to it. “I’ll call when I land, okay?” Buck nods, there’s still tension in his brow. “Hey, I love you. Miss you already,” Tommy says and presses one more hard kiss to Buck’s lips.

“Love you too, be safe,” Buck smiles and Tommy makes his way to the chopper, his hand staying connected to Tommy’s as long as possible.

Stuck in horrendous LA rush hour traffic, Buck gets a call from Tommy just over an hour after leaving him at Harbor. “Hey, babe. You landed already? That was fast. I’m still stuck on the 5.”

“Oh yeah, the perks of having access to a helicopter. Just touched down at the Vegas airport. That giant LED sphere thing freaks me out. It has a face on it and its eyes followed my helicopter as I flew by. Did you see the picture I sent?” Buck sneaks a peek at his phone and sees a picture of the giant dome on the strip from Tommy’s point of view, and sure enough the eyes of the face were looking straight up at Tommy’s chopper.

“It knew you were flying and wanted to get a good look at the hot pilot,” Buck laughs and Tommy scoffs.

“I don’t like it,” Tommy says, totally deadpan. “Huh? Yeah, my boyfriend,” Tommy says to someone else and it still makes Buck’s heart flutter hearing the designation coming from Tommy so casually. “Garcia says hi,” Tommy turns his attention back to Buck. “I’ll text later, just letting you know I landed safely, don’t miss me too much.”

“You know I will,” Buck says, putting on a whiney voice. “Talk soon, baby.” He hangs up the phone with Tommy and feels lighter.

Tommy was right, Buck didn’t have time to miss him between work and taking up Maddie on babysitting requests. Also Tommy is in constant communication with him; they text more often than when Tommy’s home. Tommy texts him updates on containment of the fire and silly selfies and Buck will send pictures of him and Jee doing various things like tea parties or coloring.

Ten days in, Buck is at the station fresh off the phone with Tommy. “How’s that Vegas fire?” Bobby asks.

“It’s about 70% contained so they’ll be releasing the out of state firefighters first," Buck says, unable to contain his giddy smile.

Buck is still looking down at his phone so he doesn’t catch Bobby’s knowing smile. Tommy called Bobby about two hours ago saying he’s on his way back and wants to surprise Buck at the station so don’t tell him.

Bobby checks his phone, seeing a message from Tommy that he’s five minutes away.

Still here, Bobby texts back, willing the alarm not to go off. They’re all up in the kitchen relaxing. When the five minutes pass Bobby goes to the railing and looks down and sees Tommy walk into the open garage. He immediately spots Bobby and gives him a two fingered salute.

“Hey, Buck seems like you have a visitor,” Bobby shouts over to Buck standing at the sink. Buck perks up and jogs over next to Bobby and honest to god gasps when he sees Tommy downstairs. He flies down the stairs, taking them two at a time like he can’t get to Tommy fast enough. “Oh my god, you’re here! I thought you’d said at least one more day!” Tommy catches Buck in his arms and stumbles a few steps with the momentum.

“Well you said come back to you, so I asked to be released early and they let me go,” Tommy says laughing into Buck’s neck.

The smell and feel of Tommy’s arms locked around him makes Buck feel at home, feel more grounded. With an arm locked around Tommy’s neck, Buck kisses him a little less chaste than probably appropriate for being at work, but he hasn’t kissed Tommy in ten days and needs to make up for lost time.

They break apart and Buck rubs his nose against Tommy’s smiling until his cheeks hurt. “Come up upstairs, everyone’s here, at least until the next call,” Buck says and pulls Tommy up the stairs by the hand.

Tommy settles on a barstool at the kitchen island and tells everyone about the job in Vegas; recounts all the exciting bits with enthusiasm. All the while one arm securely wrapped around Buck’s waist and gesturing with the other. Buck’s eyes never leave Tommy and his smile never falters, asking questions that spark more details and exciting moments of the trip.

“It’s been almost nine months and they still look like they're in the honeymoon phase,” Hen notes to Chim.

“That’s what happens when you find your person. Trust me I’m sure I look like that with Maddie and you look at Karen like that too,” Chim remarks. He discreetly snaps a candid photo of them and sends it to Maddie. Guess who’s back early, he texts the photo to Maddie.

***

Buck’s sits heavily on the couch- today was a long day to say the least. A call came in at 3am, on his 21st hour of his shift and as he was lowering himself down on a rope he slipped and grabbed the rope at the exact wrong time, dislocating his right shoulder. He screamed out in the white hot flash of pain and fell until the harness caught him. They used one of the ambulances to transport him to the emergency room.

Two hours later Tommy escorts him from the car into his house and onto the couch. Buck’s arm is in a sling and even with the pain meds the pain still radiates from his shoulder. Buck groans and leans his head back on the couch, just another injury that will put him out of work. His mind flashbacks to his whole leg in a cast and him being couch-ridden as Ali told him she can’t handle the risk his job comes with.

As he’s spiraling Tommy comes into the living room with a mug of hot tea for Buck. “Pain that bad, baby? You look miserable right now. I thought they gave you a good dose before we left.”

Realizing that his face is being way too loud at the moment, Buck softens his brow and opens his eyes. “Oh no, it’s dulled pretty good, I was just thinking about- you know what it’s dumb. Forget it,” he sighs and drags a hand down his face. Tommy sets the tea down and sits next to Evan on the couch, lining up their legs.

“Hey, whatever it is, it’s not dumb. However big or small, I wanna know what’s going on,” Tommy says to him and waits patiently for whatever Evan is willing to divulge.

”I- uh. It’s just, remember Ali? I was with her when the ladder truck fell on my leg, scared the shit out of her apparently and the day I got home from the hospital she broke up with me. She couldn’t handle the stress and worry that comes with the job,” Buck explains. He reaches for the tea just to keep his attention on something other than Tommy for a moment.

“I see. And I’m guessing this situation reminds you of that?” Tommy asks and Buck nods minutely. “Well, I hope you know I’m not going anywhere. I hate to see you hurt of course, but the nice thing is I know exactly what the risks are. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve dislocated something.” Buck finally meets Tommy’s eyes and sees a ghost of a smile on his lips. Something about Tommy’s unwavering steadiness and calm washes away any doubt Buck has.

Three days later Tommy catches Buck rubbing at the unkept beard coming in on his jaw. He wraps around Buck and quietly asks, “getting a little scruffy, I kind of like actually.” Buck laughs at that and reaches for his electric razor. The weight feels awkward in his left hand.

“It gets itchy like this,” Buck notes and frowns at the razor. Tommy releases him and opens the medicine cabinet and takes out a regular metal razor and shaving cream.

“Let me,” he says and maneuvers Buck so he’s turned around and leaning against the sink. Tommy spreads the foam gently and meticulously along Buck’s jaw, mouth, and chin. “The old fashioned way- always gets a closer shave,” Tommy says barely above a whisper.

There’s something so intimate about Tommy shaving him. Maybe it’s the way Tommy’s thumb and forefinger holding his chin, or the way his eyes are zeroed in on the path of the razor scraping down Buck’s cheek, or the way his eyes flick to Buck’s and causes him to smile or wink. It’s a simple act that makes Buck feel so precious in Tommy’s hands. Maybe he can stand the sling for a little while longer.

***

”Fuck him, Fuck him,” Buck spits out as he paces around Tommy’s kitchen. “That motherfucker thinks he’s above human decency!”

“You wanna tell me what happened?” Tommy says calmly despite the rising anger in his chest. He’s never surprised now about Gerrard’s new slight, but wishes he could shield Buck and 118 from that.

“It isn’t anything that can be reported really, it’s all the microaggressions, all his fucking snide ass comments. It just gets under my skin and makes me hate work,” Buck sits heavily at the island and groans into his hands. “I feel like he singles me out because he knows you and I are together. All these homophobic-adjacent comments, like he wants to rile me up and just UGH. Fuck him.”

Tommy hates Gerrard, but even more hates that he’s making his boyfriend miserable. An idea comes to him.

“I‘ll talk to the fire chief, remind him why Gerrard got transferred out of the 118 in the first place,” Tommy suggests. Buck looks up in a panic.

“No-no, that’ll only make things worse, you know how long these complaints take to actually make a difference. Once Gerrard gets wind of the complaints, he’ll get even worse,” Buck rushes out.

“Babe, if there’s a way I could help I want to, I can’t just stand on the sidelines while he’s making your life hell,” Tommy tries.

Buck stands and walks to the other side of the counter and smooths his hands along Tommy’s shoulders, seeing the tension release. They’re silent for a few minutes, searching each other’s eyes, trying their best to communicate all their worries and needs.

“Don’t,” Buck says with finality. Tommy huffs and presses his mouth into a thin line. “I know you want to fix this, but I don’t want you involved with him. Again. So, I’m asking you to keep this here.”

“Okay,” Tommy says with a nod and a squeeze to Buck’s waist. Buck thanks him with a kiss to the nose.

A week or so later Buck walks through the door exhausted and irritable. He’s making it a regular habit of going straight to Tommy’s after work because he needs the comfort of his boyfriend.

Tommy envelopes him in a tight hug, “I can guess, but how was work?”

“Shitty is the new normal. Gerrard will never change and I have to just get through it. At least everyone else hates him too,” Buck mumbles into the soft fabric of Tommy’s t-shirt.

“Ah yes, nothing like strengthening a bond by the power of collective disdain,” Tommy replies scratching down Buck’s back making him hum in response.

Buck realizes that nothing has changed since his last rant about Gerrard to Tommy and leans back to look at Tommy’s face inquisitively.

“Nothing’s changed,” Buck says. “You didn’t do anything.” At first Tommy’s confused but he remembers the conversation they had.

“I didn’t. You asked me not to. Did you think I’d go behind your back?”

You asked me not to. Like it was simple, like Tommy didn’t need clarification or a deeper reason. Just because he asked Tommy not to do something, he didn’t.

“I-I, I’m just surprised I guess? So many people think they know what’s best for me and go around me to do what they think is right despite what I’ve said.” Buck looks shocked but pleased. Tommy just smiles at him,

“I can’t speak for everyone, Evan, but I trust you. You know what you’re doing. Yes I always want to help and be there for you, but I know you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself. And I love you very much because of that.” Tommy pecks Buck’s lips.

“And I love you for listening and taking my word for it,” Buck grins, knowing that with Tommy he’s on equal ground. The irritation of the day is completely melted away and forgotten. Buck slides his hands up Tommy’s chest and shoulders to clasp his hands around the back of his neck.

”Now do you wanna listen to what I’m thinking about doing to you to let off some steam?” Buck quirks his left eyebrow and bites his lip, knowing Tommy’s eyes will follow.

Tommy leans in and noses along the jut of Buck’s jaw and says into his ear, “all ears, baby.”

[heygirltimeformorning]

wrote some tooth-rotting Buddie fluff chatfic for @playinginthunderstorms & @theflatman last night and I thought yall might enjoy!

this is VERY rough chatfic, and I cleaned it up a bit, but it’s chatfic, so please don’t be harsh with me!! & enjoy.

*

Eddie moves Chris back to LA very unexpectedly three days before Christmas, which causes chaos for Buck, because obviously he had gifts for Eddie and Chris, but he’d expected to go to El Paso to Eddie’s rental house a couple days after Christmas to see the Diaz boys. Christmas itself he planned to spend with Maddie and Chimney, and he doesn’t really bother decorating his loft beyond the tree and a wreath on the front door. Maybe he’s not in the Christmas spirit this year. Maybe he doesn’t particularly want to examine why. Maybe it has to do with Eddie and Chris.

So Buck is at home, December 22, glaring at his pitiful little tree and the neatly wrapped packages, and his cell phone buzzes.

second favorite Diaz: any chance your available for an airport pickup in 3 hours and 45 mins?

And Eddie’s used the wrong form of “you’re,” and LAX three days before Christmas is genuinely one of the innermost circles of hell, but —

are you and Chris coming back to LA

And Eddie confirms, yes, he and Chris are enroute, and Buck has two thoughts: one, he’s going to have to leave soon for LAX, traffic is that bad and two, Chris and Eddie will be coming home to a house that isn’t decorated for Christmas, and that will not do.

If the sudden return of his usually indomitable Christmas spirit is tied to Eddie and Chris and their return to LA, well, Buck has decorating to do. He doesn’t have time to sit and think about his feelings. And that’s how Buck Buckley does things: all in. He’s never half-assed anything in his entire life, so he loads up every Christmas decoration he can find, takes it over to Eddie’s still-uninhabited house, and gets to work.

Buck never thought he’d be grateful for flight delays, but through the magic of Christmas and the sudden return of Buck’s Christmas spirit, Eddie and Chris’ flight is delayed long enough that Buck can actually do a decent job decorating for Christmas, including the Christmas-themed sheets he had given Eddie and Chris one year, complete with matching Christmas pajamas. He sets a plate of cookies on the counter right as his phone alarms, reminding him it’s time to head to LAX, so he does, going to get his boys. He doesn’t think about anything other than the fact that he managed to pull off kind of a Christmas miracle. He doesn’t think about the way he’d wanted to beg Eddie not to go, the way he’d wanted to beg Eddie to come back — come home every day since he left. He doesn’t think about any of that. It’s Christmas, and his boys are going to be back in LA.

But the truth is, ever since he’d found out that Eddie intended to move to El Paso, there’s been a pit in his stomach. He’d chalked it up to his own personal abandonment issues, had told himself he didn’t like change. He could admit he’d miss Eddie — he already missed Chris, and it’s normal to be sad your best friend is moving away. Even when it was for a good reason. Normal to be sad, yes. But Buck didn’t really half-ass things, and while he thinks he’s disguised it well, the truth is he’s devastated that, once again, he wasn’t enough for anyone to fight for. And he knows. He knows that Eddie will pick Chris every time — that’s how Buck wants it. Chris is (rightfully) Eddie’s priority. But it had hurt that Buck wasn’t even on the list.

LAX is a zoo. Usually, Buck would park and go in to the airport to get his boys — he has no idea if this is a permanent move, if they’re just visiting, what kind of luggage they’ll have, and he doesn’t want to put pressure on Chris to be anything other than what he was, and he’s not sure he can keep himself from crying when he sees them in the airport. Buck cries at those soldier reunion videos. He doesn’t trust himself with his very own reunion video. So he waits in the jeep, texts Eddie that he’s here, and then he watches the sliding glass doors.

Buck’s heart jumps into his throat when he sees Eddie with a luggage cart, piled high with — with suitcases. With multiple suitcases, because that means, at the very least, an extended stay, and maybe even —

He’s out of the car before he can think it through, before he can think about trotting his heart out again. This is Eddie and Chris— there is no trotting his heart out again. They already own it — all of it.

They share a reunion-video worthy hug, all three of them, and Buck takes a step back, taking them both in. He’s scared to ask, because having Eddie and Chris back — but he has to know.

“Is this…?” he asks, and Chris rolls his eyes.

“El Paso is boring,” he says in that dry, measured way of his. “I miss actual fro-yo places, and Trader Joe’s.”

And Buck looks at Eddie who has this look on his face, a kind of helpless, hapless joy, like, can you believe this? And then Chris rolls his eyes.

“Dad made things more complicated than they needed to be,” Chris says, “so now we have a whole house we have to figure out how to break the rental agreement on.”

“I’ve been researching it,” Buck says, can’t help it. It isn’t a lie - not even close. Just in case. Just in case all his dreams came true.

And Buck knows that they can’t exactly set the precedent that the second Chris gets back from his self-imposed exile (like father like son) he gets whatever he wants, but when they get the bags loaded in the car, and when Chris and Eddie are in Buck’s jeep, and when Buck’s heart is Shirley Temple-ing up and down the steps of his brain, and Chris says “can we stop for fro-yo,” Buck says yes without hesitation, even though the place Chris wants to go is going to be packed, because they do a fro-yo and caroling event that’s tonight. Buck’s boys are back. They’re back, and Buck will take Chris for fro-yo every single night for the rest of his life if it means he gets to have Eddie and Chris back in his life.

All told, it’s late— or, well, early, depending on how you look at it— when they get to the Diaz house, and Buck can’t help but look over at Eddie when they pull up, the Christmas tree lights on and glowing through the window.

“Have you been living here?” Eddie asks, and there’s something Buck can’t quite identify in his voice.

And Buck realizes that it’s actually probably weird that he’s decorated the Diaz house for Christmas, especially considering that no one is officially living here. And has Buck thought about it? Yes. When they’d set things up with Ravi to rent it out, Buck had thought — maybe. But the truth was, it would be too … painful. Buck has lived with ghosts before. He spent his whole childhood with Daniel’s ghost (even if he hadn’t known that’s what it was at the time ) and he couldn’t move into the Diaz house without the Diazes. It would be like living in a mausoleum.

“Uh,” he says in response to Eddie’s question. Chris had finished his fro-yo and passed out, and was currently snoring quietly, head leaned against the window of the Jeep. “N-no. Nobody’s living here, I just thought… it might be nice to come home to something… homey.”

“You decorated?” Eddie asks. “Tonight? You decorated the house tonight before you picked us up?”

Buck turns a little pink, glancing down at his hands. “Guess your flight getting delayed had a silver lining,” he says, and then he looks up at Eddie.

Eddie, who’s looking at Buck with look on his face that’s half-heartbroken, half-something else. Something Buck can almost but not quite identify. “I missed you too, Buck,” he says finally, reaching out to give Buck’s shoulder a squeeze, his thumb fitting into that place just under his collarbone.

Buck feels the weight of it, and the air is suddenly charged between them. Buck’s looking at Eddie. Eddie’s looking at Buck. Chris is asleep in the backseat.

Eddie is home. Buck feels it like a rush, something that sweeps in and washes through him. Eddie is back where he belongs, and Buck’s world rights itself on its axis.

They get the bags inside, and Chris, and get Chris in his bed and then Eddie comes down the hall, raising his eyebrows in surprise when Buck presents him with their brand of beer.

“I had some groceries delivered while I was decorating,” he admits, a little bashful. “Not much, I just didn’t want you to come home to an empty fridge.”

Eddie cracks his beer open and takes a long drink. It’s going on three in the morning, and he’s tired, yes, but he nods to the couch, and Buck meets him there, settling down next to him, their thighs pressed together, their shoulders touching, both of them watching the gentle glow of the Christmas tree. “So,” Eddie says, “guess I should explain.”

And Buck wants to say that it’s okay, that he doesn’t need an explanation. That having them home is all he needs, that as long as they’re back and safe and here, then Buck is happy. And all of that is true, but Buck also wants to know — he wants to understand. What happened — what changed. “Well,” Buck says carefully, and Eddie looks up from his beer. “I am a little curious, yeah.”

So Eddie explains, talks about how Chris had taken one look at the rental house in El Paso and thrown the holiest of fits. How Chris had said some things that made a lot of sense, actually (Eddie admits this with a slightly chagrined look) and had demanded to know why Eddie was moving back to El Paso when he’d made it pretty fucking obvious (Chris’ exact words, apparently, which Eddie looks a little pained and a little proud and a little amused over) that El Paso didn’t make him happy. Eddie explains that Chris had just been waiting for Eddie to ask him to come home, and Eddie hadn’t wanted to uproot Chris (again) from his clubs, and they’d initially decided to wait until the new year to move back. But then, Eddie says, they’d been sitting in the living room of the rental house, and Chris had asked about Buck, and then Eddie stops talking.

Buck and Eddie never really have awkward silences. Even when Buck had shown up at Eddie’s house to find Eddie in his underwear, dancing to “Old Time Rock n Roll,” it hadn’t been awkward.

But this… this is a little bit awkward. Eddie is picking at the label on his beer bottle.

“Chris asked about me?” Buck asks, and Eddie nods. It feels like a half-truth, like Eddie’s holding something back, and Buck frowns at the Christmas tree, at the gifts he’d picked out for Chris and Eddie, had cried while he wrapped them, because he missed them, even if he wouldn’t admit it to anyone but himself.

“He did,” Eddie says, carefully, guarded. Eddie’s eyes are on the tree, and Buck looks over at Eddie, and the thing that Buck couldn’t stand to think about, the thing he’d realized too late was that he loves Eddie, that the second he’d realized Eddie planned to go to El Paso, a little piece of Buck’s heart had broken off, and then another and then another until he was in LA, bleeding out, all the pieces of his heart in El Paso.

Eddie shifts, suddenly, almost abruptly, so he’s turned to face Buck, and Buck turns to face Eddie, like he can’t help but echo his movements. “Chris said something,” he says, carefully. “And. I think… I think he might be right.”

“He’s the smartest person I know,” Buck points out, but the joke is a little stiff, doesn’t quite fit this conversation. There’s a pause. And then Buck asks, “what did he say?”

Eddie takes a deep breath, like he’s about to say something he can’t take back. Like things were about to change. “He asked,” Eddie says carefully, “if I had told you I was in love with you.”

Buck’s not sure he’s breathing. He’s not sure Eddie’s breathing.

“If I had considered,” Eddie says, “that leaving you in LA was cruel.” He folds his hands in his lap.

Buck can’t make his mouth work. His throat sticks, clicks around the words. “Eddie—“ he manages, finally, because he’d never thought cruel. “He’s your baby, Eds, I — I never —“

Because Buck had thought all kinds of things when Eddie had left for El Paso — none of them had been that Eddie was cruel. Eddie wasn’t cruel. Eddie was kind and funny and he felt things deeply and he knew the best pancake recipe, and he was Buck’s steady — when Buck didn’t know what to do, there was always Eddie, just waiting. Buck’s loved him for a long time, even if he hadn’t realized it until he’d been confronted with Eddie leaving, with losing both of his boys.

“You aren’t cruel, Eddie,” Buck says finally, and Eddie huffs out a little laugh.

“Well,” Eddie says, eyes on the Christmas tree, but then they flicker back to Buck. “He wasn’t — wrong. About. About me being in love with you.”

It’s quiet, the admission, something soft and gentle and a little painful, a little vulnerable, and Buck isn’t sure what to do with that.

“You know,” Eddie says after a long moment. “There’s one thing missing.”

And Buck frowns, because what could be missing? He’d tried to think of everything. He’d decorated for Christmas in a few hours and then he’d driven to LAX, and something was missing? What could it possibly —

But then Buck’s train of thought ends abruptly, smashing into the side of a cliff. No survivors, because Eddie says there’s only one thing missing and then he closes the distance between them and kisses Buck.

Buck doesn’t kiss Eddie back. He’s too stunned to speak or kiss back or do anything, because this is the second time someone has kissed Buck and helped something click into place. And what had clicked into place wasn’t that he loves Eddie — he knew that already — but that he gets to have this, if he wants it, precious and perfect. That Eddie had left, yes, but he’d come back. That he’d seen the house decorated for Christmas and understood it as Buck’s abundance of joy — as an expression of love — instead of something silly and stupid.

To be loved, Buck knows, is to be known, and Eddie knows him, knows all of him, and isn’t flinching.

Eddie pulls back after the one sided kiss and looks a little panicked, and then the gears in Buck’s brain start to turn again and he shakes his head, reaching for Eddie as he starts to pull back, pulling him back into a kiss, and this one, Buck is an active participant in.

“I love you,” Buck says, when the kiss breaks, their foreheads pressed together, panting into each other’s mouths. “I love you, I love you. Thank you.” He swallows, heavily. “Thank you for coming home,” he whispers. “I love you.”

“Merry Christmas,” Eddie says with a little smile. “I love you, too.”

[freshxsturniolo]

GILMORE GIRLS, MARY-LOU & COOKIES - matt sturniolo x fem!reader

hi babies, i just know matt and his little fall heart would love a chilled cosy evening with his gf watching their favourite shows and you all loved my chris fic with jimmy and mary lou so i hope you all enjoy this xxx

you let out a sigh as you lay your head against the back of the couch, a sense of relief finally washing over you.

it had been an awful day of travelling, the airport so jam packed at LAX with people heading out of the state, delays on almost every flight but yours, however it only caused a knock on effect of bad moods across the airport. your uber had not arrived to take you and the triplets to their home in boston and jimmy had had no choice but to come and collect you all, which only added to the awful mood as the triplets had felt beyond guilty, knowing their dad was busy already that day.

so when you'd finally said hello to everyone, had a bowl of homemade shepards pie that mary-lou had had sat waiting for you all, showered and got into fresh clothes, you could finally relax.

"are you okay, babe?" matt, your ever loving boyfriend said as he appeared around the corner, watching you as you closed your eyes for just a moment.

"hmm" you mumbled, not having the energy to speak and look up at him. you heard him chuckle slightly, and you could feel yourself drifting off to sleep when his weight dropped down at the side of you.

"you can go to bed for a couple of hours if you need to" he said into your ear, before dropping a soft kiss to your cheek. you smiled, embracing his warm touch, finally opened your eyes and turning your head to the side to look at him. his eyes were dark rimmed and his hair was a mess, but he was still so beautiful. you were about to open your mouth when you see chris' figure in the doorway, diverting your eyes straight to him.

"we might head to nathans for a bit, are you two coming?" chris said, and you finally sat up as matt turned his position to face his brother.

"yeah, i'll come." and then he turned back to you. "babe?"

you smiled, reaching out to stroke his face. "i love nathan with my entire heart, but would you mind if i stayed here?"

you already felt guilty, but you'd been so overstimulated for the last 6 hours that the thought of sitting with 4 boys who were all going to be hyped from seeing each other felt too much. you wanted to chill, nap, potentially get some work done on your phone and call in an early night.

"i'll stay with you." matt said instantly, like you knew he would, but you shook your head.

"you've not seen your best friend in months, go." you almost demanded. matt cared for you so much, you could see him already fighting with his eyes, but you smiled softly.

"are you sure?" he said, at the same time you saw mary-lou appear in the doorway too, shuffling past chris.

"are you okay, kids?" she said, and you dropped your hand from matts face to look at her.

"do you mind if i stay here, mary-lou? whilst the boys go to nates"

she beamed at you. "of course i dont mind, my love. this is your home now too."

you smiled at her warmingly before turning back to matt, a smile on his face at his moms words.

"im so tired, matt." you said, and he nodded, dipping forward and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "tell nate im sorry.

"you'll see him tomorrow, im sure." he smiled.

"i dont doubt it." you chuckle, knowing full well nate was joined at the hip with the triplets whenever they were home. matt stands up, going over to give his mom a hug goodbye, closely followed by chris who then comes over to you, kicking your feet playfully. you'd always had a playful relationship with chris, and you go to kick him back but he runs off into the doorway, slapping matt on the shoulders as he reaches him.

"those boys" mary-lou chuckles at the side of you, and you turn around in time to see her sit at the side of you. "are you okay, my love?" she asks now, and you nod.

"im just tired, and the thought of them all yapping is sending me into another dimension."

she laughs at your words, throwing her head back, and you can't help but laugh with her. once a soft silence falls between you both, you reaches over to the arm rest of the couch and picks up the remote.

"so, i've been watching that show you love" she says now, giving you a smile, and you can't help the excited squeal that overcomes you.

"gilmore girls?" you say.

it was your favourite show, especially when you were home in boston. it had a nostalgic feel that couldn't be replicated anywhere else.

"yes" she chuckles, before the familiar netflix sound fills the living area. "im just about to start season two."

you beam. "my favourite season."

and so the work you were going to do goes out the window, as mary-lou grabs you a blanket, throwing it across your legs as she presses play on the last episode she was on. a soft feeling washing over you as you snuggle down, watching your favourite show.

you were asleep before matt came back home. the evening drawing in, the soft glow of the tv and the candles around you, the warmth of the triplets childhood home. the adrenaline from the day had had you tired beyond belief. but mary-lou let you sleep as she sat at the side of you, your head lulled on the back of the couch and the blanket spread across you.

you didn’t stir when the triplets came back home, and mary-lou hushed them as they came bounding into the living area where you both sat. the minute matt saw you, his face turned into a smile.

“how long as she been asleep?” he whispered, taking in your peaceful face. nick bounded across and sat next to his mom, who engulfed him in a one arm hug, and chris took place on the floor, resting his back against the couch and pulling out his phone.

“why am i not shocked you’re both sat here watching this?” he says.

mary lou chuckles before looking back to matt. “for the past hour”

he smiled, before he slowly sat down beside you, accidentally brushing his knee against yours.

you woke with a startle, looking up at him, before looking around the room. all eyes were on you apart from chris, who was sat not far on his phone, and you let out a smile as you stretched out your neck.

lifting up your foot, you reach chris’ hands perfectly and gently knock them with your foot, startling him so his phone falls out his hands. everyone erupts into laughter as chris lets out a ‘fuck’ before he turns around and grabs your ankle, pulling you slightly so you shift down the couch.

mary-lou swats his hand away whilst matt yells his brothers name, and you can only laugh.

“your girlfriends annoying as shit, bro” chris says, a joking grin on his face.

you shift your position back to where you were just a second before, finally turning around to face your boyfriend.

“hey, tired girl” he says, and you can’t help but let out a yawn. he chuckles as he leans forward, placing a soft kiss to your lips.

nick and chris have started talking to their mom, and their voices fill the room as matt picks up the blanket, positioning himself right next to you before his arm comes around your shoulder, pulling you into his side before placing the blanket over the both of you.

“cookies are in the kitchen” he whispers, as you wrap your arm around his waist, leaning your head against his chest.

“thank you” you whisper, squeezing his side slightly before lifting your head again to look at him. “sorry i didn’t come.”

he smiles. “doesn’t matter. are you okay?”

“never better” you beam, before laying your head back down on his chest.

the rest of the evening is spent lazily watching your favourite show, jimmy coming to join you not long after. you’re too tired to engage in conversation, but you can’t help the laughs that escape as you listen to your favourite family chat amongst themselves, your boyfriends hands running strokes up and down your arm the entire time.

[909th]

that bit by the onion about the franz kafka airport is just what flying out of LAX is like