Me looking at the imaginary camera when there is a plot twist in the fanfic I'm reading
Not today Justin
I'd rather be in outer space đ¸

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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
sheepfilms

pixel skylines
Cosimo Galluzzi
will byers stan first human second

if i look back, i am lost
styofa doing anything

#extradirty
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Love Begins
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Keni
AnasAbdin
Peter Solarz

â
occasionally subtle
đŞź

seen from Italy
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seen from United States

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@mooncandybaby
Me looking at the imaginary camera when there is a plot twist in the fanfic I'm reading
I want to interact more on here but unfortunately posting anything online makes me feel like iâm being pummeled by tomatoes in a little jester outfit
happy birthday to the record!!!!!!!! đ
"Mack's too young to be drinking!!!" y'all wouldn't last a day in Europe.
sights and sounds from the hollanov book wedding
They werenât lying when they said that as an adult you have to fight for your life to practice your hobbies
They also werenât lying when they said that when you fail to do so your soul shrivels up inside your body and dies
Sorry (One Shot)
A/N: Helloooo. We are so back. Enjoy some Hollanov, to tide us over until 9-1-1 returns!!
Shane Hollander x Ilya Rozanov | 18+ | 1.6k | Read on AO3
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âWhat the fuck was that?!â
Ilya had the audacity to chuckle at that, closing the door behind Shane and locking it. When he turned back to face Shane, a scowl was still decorating Shaneâs features.
âOh my God, you are actually mad?â He said, the shit-eating grin still plastered on his face.
Shane rolled his eyes, huffing something under his breath that sounded like âfucking asshole.â
âSo you came up here just to complain, then?â Asked the Russian.
Shane huffed, crossing the room in long strides until they were face to face.
Of course, they both knew why Shane was in Ilyaâs hotel room, but Shane was not about to admit that out loud. Instead, his dark eyes bore holes into Ilyaâs hazel ones, until Ilyaâs hand came up slowly, tentatively cupping the shorter manâs face.
Shane instantly let his head be supported by Ilyaâs hand, tipping slightly towards it.
âI am so sorry for flirting with you in front of your friends,â said Ilya, sounding more condescending than apologetic.
âFuck youâ
Ilya huffed out a laugh like this was amusing to him, which only made Shaneâs brow furrow deeper.
âItâs not a joke. People talk,â He began, exasperated.
âRelax. Everyone knows I flirt. It is more weird if I do not flirt with you at all,â Ilya assured him.
âYou didnât flirt with Hayden,â Shane pointed out.
âWho would flirt with Hayden?â Said Ilya with feigned disgust, which actually made Shaneâs expression soften momentarily.
âGood. A smile. Finally,â Said Ilya, smiling back at Shane, âNow, take your clothes off.â
Shane obeyed immediately, pulling his clothes off and laying them neatly on the dresser behind him while Ilya watched, amused. When he had stripped down to his boxer shorts and socks, Ilya directed him to the bed in the middle of the room.
âOn your stomach, Hollander.â
Shane complied immediately which always sent a shiver down Ilyaâs spine. He wondered what kind of request it would take for Shane to actually not obey â if there was one at all.
Shane heard the quiet shuffling of clothes being undone, then felt the mattress dip under Ilyaâs weight. He felt the heat radiating off the other manâs body, knees planted on either side of Shaneâs hips.
Shaneâs face was covered by his crossed arms on the duvet, so he couldnât really see much of anything. When he felt Ilyaâs hands on his back, slowly running down the muscles heâd slowly built over the years, he expected to feel Ilyaâs long fingers dip into the waistband of his boxer shorts and pull down, but Ilyaâs hands didnât touch the elastic. Instead, when he reached Shaneâs lower back, Ilya dragged his calloused hands back up the length of Shaneâs back, making the hairs on the back of Shaneâs neck stand.
Shane breathed out a little huff, muffled by the skin of his arms where his face was buried. He hoped Ilya had not heard it, but seconds later, there were lips grazing over the shell of his ear.
âPatience, Hollander,â He drawled.
Ilyaâs lips planted a soft kiss in the space between Shaneâs ear and his hairline, then another on his neck, then another on his shoulder. He kept planting sweet little kisses all the way over Shaneâs vast expanse of exposed skin. It was dizzying. The warm breath, the soft lips, and the cold drag of the cross pendant all too much on his delicate skin.
It seemed to go on forever, until there was no inch of Shaneâs back which Ilyaâs lips had not grazed. He sighed contentedly, feeling like he was floating. His cock was fully hard and being pressed between his body and the duvet, but Shane was perfectly content with just soft kisses for the rest of his life. Or, you know, the rest of the couple hours he would be here.
Finally, the trail of kisses ended up back at Shaneâs ear.
âYou are still mad?â Shane could hear the smirk in Ilyaâs voice.
He let out a strained noise, hoping it was enough to communicate that, no, he was not mad anymore. It seemed to do the trick, as Ilya hummed softly and breathed out khoroshiy, before planting one last kiss on the skin of Shaneâs neck.
At last, Ilyaâs fingers hooked into the waistband of Shaneâs underwear, and Shane shuddered in anticipation, lifting his lips a little to help Ilya undress him.
âCan take these off, yes?â He asked in a deep voice.
âYes,â breathed out Shane.
âYou do not want to fold them?â
Shane looked over his shoulder to glare at Ilya, but he was met with soft hazel eyes and a crooked smile so disgustingly endearing, he could not bear to feign irritation.
When Shane was finally bare, Ilya trailed a strong hand up Shaneâs right thigh, stopping just under the crease of his ass, digging his fingers into the flesh. His thumb pushed just enough to spread Shaneâs cheek, exposing his puckered hole.
"Chert vozâmi", he groaned, before sinking his teeth into Shaneâs ass cheek.
âFuck!,â Shane whined, but was immediately soothed by Ilyaâs tongue which lapped over the bite.
âSorry,â Ilya said with his mouth still pressed against Shaneâs skin.
Ilya brought his other hand to cup Shaneâs other ass cheek, mirroring the other hand, spreading him open. For a moment, Shane felt very exposed, until Ilyaâs wet tongue licked over his hole. Then, Shaneâs head became fuzzy.
Ilya licked over his hole sloppily. So much so, in fact, Shane could feel little beads of spit run down over his balls. Shane tried his hardest to muffle his moans, grabbing a pillow and shoving it under his face. He could feel Ilya chuckling softly against his hole, or maybe it was just his imagination, but he couldnât be bothered to be embarrassed. Not right now.
Ilya stopped his ministrations and Shane audibly groaned into the pillow. He replaced his mouth with his fingers, slowly adding more, pushing in deeper and deeper, making sure Shane was ready to take his cock.
âFuck, Hollander. You are dripping,â Ilya said with a gravelly voice.
Shane couldnât even bring himself to insult him. Instead, he used all the effort he could conjure to whine out, âNeedâŚâ
He fully expected Ilya to tease him a little âNeed what, Hollander?âBut all Ilya said was, âYes, I know. I will give you what you need.â
He heard some more shuffling, then the zipper of a suitcase being opened, then the bed creaked again, and Rozanov was on top of him, knees on either side of Shaneâs body, bent low over him until Shane could feel the tip of the cross pendant resting on his skin.
âLift up,â He directed, grabbing Shaneâs hips.
Shane lifted his hips a little, arching his back in preparation. He heard a noise come out of Ilya that could only be described as a gasp.
âStill want, yes?â Asked Ilya, like the breath had been knocked out of him.
âStill want,â Shane confirmed, speaking into the pillow.
He felt the tip of Ilyaâs cock against his hole, pushing slowly inside him with a deep groan. Ilyaâs strong arms wrapped around Shane. Ilya let one arm spread across his chest under his arms, and straightened the other out on the bed for balance, pulling Shane with his back against Ilyaâs chest.
In this position, Ilyaâs mouth was directly against Shaneâs ear, and Shane revelled in it, listening to soft Russian curses and laboured breaths dancing on his skin.
It didnât take long for the familiar build up of pleasure to coil in Shaneâs gut. It never did these days.
âFuck, Rozanov, Iâm not- not gonna last,â He panted.
Ilya made a noise, punctuated by some more Russian cursing, âYou are going to cum without me even touching you? Fuck, Hollander. Make a mess, come on!â
With that encouragement, Shane spurted ropes of cum all over the duvet, with Ilyaâs cock still buried deep inside him, and his mouth on Shaneâs neck. Moments later, Ilya tightened his arm that was gripping Shane to his chest, stilling as deep inside him as possible, and cumming hard, his noises muffled by Shaneâs neck.
Ilya rolled them both over, avoiding the mess of cum on the duvet, before slowly slipping out of Shane.
âFuck, Hollander,â He groaned, still holding Shane close.
âI should probably go,â Said Shane after a minute.
âI am sorry I flirted with you in front of your team,â Ilya said, sounding genuinely apologetic.
âItâs fine. Your flirting sounds like bullying, anyway. I donât think anyone noticed,â Shane assured him, all the anger having dissipated.
Ilya didnât say anything, so Shane said again, âI should go.â
âYes, probably,â He agreed, making no move to let go of Shane.
âWhen are you flying back to Boston?â
âEarly,â Ilya said, trying to sound casual, but his arm loosened around Shaneâs body.
âYeah, me too. Not Boston, I mean,â He trailed off. Of course Ilya already knew Shane would not be flying to Boston, âIâm gonna go.â
Shane rolled out of bed and started putting his clothes back on. Ilya remained in the same position on the bed, watching Shane get dressed.
Shane was about to say goodnight and leave, when Ilya quickly rolled off the bed and strode over to Shane. Shane raised his eyebrows like he was not expecting it, because he wasnât.
Like he had done when Shane first walked into the room, Ilya cupped Shaneâs face with one hand.
âI kissed your whole body but not your lips,â He explained with a small smile, like it was the most absurd thing in the world. In many ways, it was.
He leaned in, a mere inch away from Shaneâs mouth before planting a slow, deep kiss on Shaneâs lips. Ilyaâs kisses always made Shaneâs head spin. So slow and soft and somehow so filthy. Shaneâs cock twitched uselessly in his pants.
âGoodnight, Hollanderâ He spoke softly, like he was afraid to spook him.
ââNightâ, Shane echoed his tone. Then, Shane was gone and Ilya showered alone. He could really use a cigarette.
ever since i was a little girl i wanted to be a man with a homoerotic years long incredibly intense friendship with another man
Mirror, Mirror
A/N: Hello, friends! Sorry I keep disappearing. Uni somehow gets harder every year...crazy. This is a bit of a shorter one, but I hope you like it still <3 (and yes, as the title suggests, it's mirror sex) Leave a comment if you want, I'd love to hear your opinions. Or even better, send an ask!!!! Requests are welcome (even if it may take a little while)
Evan Buckley x Reader | NSFW (18+) | One-Shot
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Itâs been a year since the first time you went on a date with Buck. You can barely believe that the nervous guy you had met for coffee, who kept tripping over his words and putting his foot in his mouth, is the same man who you woke up next to this morning.Â
For your one year anniversary, Buck surprised you with a weekend getaway at a nice hotel. He thought you would appreciate a couple of days of R&R, picking the place specifically for its spa amenities. However, ever since the Buck wheeled your suitcases into the hotel room, the two of you havenât set foot outside the confines of your suite.Â
Youâve lost count of the number of orgasms youâve been given, on the bed, in the shower, up against the wall, and one or two on the carpeted floor â you have rug burns to show for it.Â
Itâs truly impressive, the way your boyfriend can go round after round after round. Sure, he takes a break every once in a while, orders room service, takes a few sips of water, but every time, heâs back to being fully hard in time to enter you again. Despite the soreness you know will make you limp tomorrow, you have no complaints.Â
After so many rounds and various positions, Buck decides to try something a little bit different. Itâs nothing too crazy, but somehow, the two of you had never done this before.Â
Buck leads you to the vanity unit, and in one smooth motion, his large hands manhandle you, turning you around to face the mirror, then bending you over the vanity table.Â
Looking up through your eyelashes at the reflection, you can see the little smirk on his face; the one he makes when he was about to rock your world. One hand holds your hip, while the other soothingly rubs your lower back. You can see the mischievous glint in his eyes as he leans down with his mouth at your ear, gently moving your hair off your back and over your shoulder.Â
âLook at you,â He whispers, an edge in his voice, âwhat a pretty girl.â
He kisses a trail from the back of your neck to the point where your ear meets your jaw, tugging your ear lobe gently between his teeth.Â
âI love seeing you like this, so wrecked for me,â he continues, âbut it isnât fair you donât get to see what you look like, is it? The way your lips part when I hit that spot, the way your face scrunches when you cum.âÂ
The words alone are doing something to you, and itâs evident from the way heâs looking at you, that he knows exactly what effect his dirty mouth has on you.Â
He teases you, rubbing the head of his cock between your folds, seemingly amused by just how wet you are for him. Then, seeing the look of desperation and need on your features, he pushes himself inside you. You drop your head down as you try to adjust to his size â it always takes you a moment, even after a year.Â
Buckâs hand grabs your hair, at your scalp, and tugs, pulling your head up.Â
âNo, baby, none of that. Look up, look at yourself. You have to see. See how pretty you are taking my cock. God, youâre tight, but you can do it, canât you? You can take it all, right?â His tone is teetering the line of condescension, but it makes your stomach tighten just the same.Â
âThatâs it, thatâs my girl,â he whines, pushing a little deeper, âso perfect, so good for me.â
You moan in response, watching. Your eyes flit between your own reflection and Buckâs. Your drooping eyelids, his furrowed brow, your kiss-bitten lips, the tattoo on his chest that moves with every laboured breath.Â
As your orgasm approaches, you have to fight harder and harder to keep your eyes from closing, but you try your best, wanting to do what he asked, but also just enjoying the unusual point of view. Eventually, your legs begin quiver and shake beneath you, your body held between the vanity table and your boyfriend. His thrusts make everything shake, blurring the reflection with each push. His fingers are still wrapped around your hair, but it doesnât hurt, only adding to the overall experience.Â
When you finally cum, it feels like the usual pleasure but amplified. Looking at Buckâs red face, painted in satisfaction at witnessing your climax, then a second later, giving in and coming deep inside you.Â
The hand in your hair relaxes, and he collapses forward, his chest pressed up against your back, kissing your face, neck and shoulder while making eye contact with your through the mirror.Â
âYou did so good for me,â he praises softly, âperfect.âÂ
The satisfied groan you let out seems to please him, his mouth turning into a goofy grin as he slowly pulls out of you, still holding your body up.Â
âLetâs get you to bed,â He coos, âI think we can both use a little nap.â
5 times Dan and Phil click baited us
+ one time it was real
A Helping Hand
Read on AO3
18+ | Evan Buckley x Eddie Diaz | Smut
A/N: Hey y'all! Technically wrote this for kinktober, but i definitely will not be posting 31 of these. This was my first time writing Buddie smut so I hope you enjoy xx
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Over the Summer, Buck had been shown dozens of homes by his real estate agent. Unfortunately, there seemed to be an issue with every single one of them. The kitchen was too small in one of them, the other had a âweird vibeâ, one was too far from work, another had a peculiar smell.Â
Despite the realtorâs best efforts, Buck remained living on South Bedford street. Specifically, on Eddieâs couch. At first, Eddie insisted that Buck keep the bedroom since that was technically Buckâs bed in there, but Buck refused, and eventually Eddie reluctantly agreed to take back his bedroom.Â
While Buck was perfectly fine sleeping on Eddieâs couch (it was surprisingly comfortable), there was a slight issue regarding privacy. Since Buck didnât have his own room, he was constantly in the Diaz living space, which meant that he had to be extra creative with dealing with his urges.
The first few weeks, he tried to quit cold turkey. He had managed once, before the sperm bank donation, he could do it again. Except, it was proving harder (in every sense of the word)Â this time around for some reason. After spending a whole day with Eddie, running errands, for some inexplicable reason, Buckâs cock ached to be touched.Â
He managed to hold off for a couple of days, but eventually, his restraint snapped like a twig. Luckily, by then, he had found the perfect system. While Chris wasnât home, Buck would go to the bathroom and take a nice, long, shower. Often, Chris not being home meant Eddie was also out, so Buck would have the whole house to himself.Â
And so it began. A ritual of sorts, where Buck would disappear into the bathroom, strip down, turn on the hot water, and fuck his fist. It was a great system, he thought. The water would muffle some of the noises, the shower made for easy cleanup, and no one was the wiser.Â
One particular day, Buck was feeling particularly pent up. Chris was over at Tia Pepaâs house, and it was just him and Eddie in the house. Eddie. With his furrowed brows and big, brown eyes, pranced around the house in an LAFD T-shirt the sleeves of which he had cut off, and a pair of shorts, fixing all sorts of little things around the house he had been putting off. Buck wanted to wait until Eddie was out of the house, but every time Eddie completed one task, heâd grab his tools and move on to another task. His brow furrowed in focus, bent over, or stretching upwards, giving Buck a full anatomy lesson on how the muscles of the arms and the legs contract while one does housework.Â
Eventually, Buck couldnât help it. He needed a shower. A cold one probably would have been best, but when stripped down and twisted the faucet, hot water poured out, filling the bathroom with steam.Â
As he had done many times before, Buck stepped into the shower, lazily tugging on his cock until he was fully erect. The steady stream of warm water enveloped him in a relaxing hug, and he relaxed his tensed muscles, tipping his head back under the stream. His right hand stroked up and down his shaft, stretched slightly so that the pad of his thumb could rub over the glistening, pink head. Droplets of precum began to form at the tip, and Buckâs nimble fingers spread it down the rest of the length, positioning himself so that his back shielded his cock from the water.Â
As he picked up the pace, Buckâs breathing became more audible, and he even had to bite his bottom lip to keep himself from making too much noise. After all, Eddie was still in the house. Ah, Eddie. Changing lightbulbs, or whatever he was doing. Buck was a little tooâŚdistracted to pay attention.
For some unknown reason, more precum dripped down the sides of Buckâs cock, as his wrist worked him closer towards his release. His muscular chest expanded with each breath, nipples pert, and drops of water mixed with a little bit of sweat running down in the crevice between his pecs.Â
He was beginning to get close now. His left arm shot out to hold onto the shower wall, but, in his daze, he accidentally hit his knuckles against the plastic bottle of liquid soap which had been sitting on the shower caddy, knocking it down. It fell onto the shower floor with a dramatically loud thud, making way too much noise for the minuscule event it truly was. In fact, it derailed the less minuscule event which had been taking place. Buckâs impending orgasm. His hand stopped its movements, as he bent down quickly, retrieving the soap bottle and returning it to its rightful spot.Â
But it was too late. Someone had heard the loud thud, and their protective instincts kicked in.Â
âBuck?! Buck are you okay?â Yelled Eddie as he barged into the bathroom with a panicked look on his face.Â
Jesus, why did Eddieâs bathroom not have a lock on it?
Buck had already been flushed before Eddie walked in, but after the door flew open, his cheeks were even more pink than they had been moments before.Â
âUh, yeah. Yeah, Iâm fine. Just theâŚuh, the soap bottle fellâŚâ, He began, explaining himself, facing the back of the shower.Â
He had turned in an attempt to cover himself â Eddie had seen him naked before at work, but he didnât want him to see that he was hard in the shower. Unfortunately, he has been to slow to react, and, unless the glass shower door suddenly became a one-way mirror, Eddie had caught a good glimpse of exactly what had been going on in that shower cubicle.Â
âBuckâŚâ Eddie said calmly.Â
âY-yeahâŚIâm fine. You can just go nowâŚplease,âÂ
âBuck, turn around,â said Eddie, still in that calm voice.Â
âI, uhâŚI canât do that, EdsâŚâ For some reason, being caught had done nothing to calm down his raging boner.Â
âBuck, turn around,â Repeated Eddie, just slightly louder.Â
âNo, Eds. You donât get it. I, uhâŚIâm not uhmâŚdecent?âÂ
Then, Buck heard the unmistakable sound of the glass door being opened and a cool draft on his wet skin.Â
âBuck, turn around,â He repeated again, this time in a tone so commanding, Buck had no choice but to obey.Â
âEddieâŚâ He began, wanting to explain, but finding no words.Â
He swivelled around, his hands cupped over his crotch to conceal himself as best as he could, sheepishly looking up to meet Eddieâs eyes. The pink tinge on his cheeks brightened when he saw that Eddie was shirtless, probably having taken his shirt off while doing the chores.Â
âBuck.âÂ
Buck swallowed the knot in his throat.
âI-Iâm sorry, Eds, I justâŚThe couch its-â He began, trying to piece together a sentence from the scramble that was his brain.Â
âRelax, Buck. Iâm not mad at you,â Eddie cut him off. His words seemed genuine, though.Â
âY-youâre not?â Asked Buck, raising one eyebrow inquisitively, as he so often did. Eddie found it kind of adorable.
Eddie just shook his head, then wordlessly reached out, grabbing Buckâs arm, pulling it gently away from his body, exposing his cock.Â
âEddie what-â He began, before he was once again cut off.Â
âYouâre a good roommate, Buck. Sleeping on the couch so long, no privacy, I can see why you need someâŚpersonal time,â Eddie stated casually, his eyes locked on the appendage between Buckâs legs.Â
Something about it made even more of Buckâs blood rush right to his dick, making it spasm slightly, and he swore he saw the Eddieâs mouth water.Â
He wondered if he was dreaming, until Eddie rested his hand over Buckâs tattoo, the one on his lower abdomen, tracing it lazily. Buckâs eyes remained stuck on Eddieâs face, who in turn was still focused on the lower half of Buckâs body, almost bashfully. Was he blushing? Buck felt dizzy.Â
Eddieâs hand drifted lower, giving Buck the opportunity to push it away or say something to stop him, but the only thing Buck did in response was quietly whine impatiently. Eddie took the hint, his hand gripping Buckâs cock surprisingly confident. Buck wondered if he had done that before, feeling a twinge of jealousy, before realising he was probably just used to touching himself.Â
Eddieâs eyes finally flicked up to meet Bucks blue ones, heavy-lidded with the pupils blown. Buck almost whined âpleaseâ, but he opted to restrain himself, scared to spook the man before him.Â
When Eddieâs hand began to stroke Buckâs cock, he couldnât help himself from letting out a guttural groan. Eddie didnât seem to mind, going on with his movements. He even spit on his hand a little before continuing, which almost made Buck pass out right in the shower.Â
Buckâs hand once again shot out to grab at the tiled wall, needing to steady himself as he started the journey towards his climax again. An incoherent mixture of curses, groans and âEddieâs left his lips, as his breathing became more laboured. He had already been so close before, all Eddie needed to do was get him over the threshold, which he seemed to find no trouble doing. He was a natural, but Buck thought that should have been expected. He knew Buck better than anyone, had an instinct for anything Buck-related. It made sense that it would extend to his body.Â
Buckâs muscles tensed as the familiar knot of pleasure tightened in his core. Deep, short breaths. Pink lips parted. Hands grabbing at nothing against the tile.Â
Then â Nothing.Â
Buckâs eyes shot open in confusion. Eddie regretted touching him.Â
âW-whatâŚwhyâd you stop?â He panted out.Â
Eddie just smirked in response, his hand wrapping back around the shaft, but not moving at all.Â
âSeemed a little soon,â Eddie explained calmly, with just the hint of a smile attempting to creep up on his face.Â
Buck blushed. Yes, it was quick, but he had already basically gotten himself there before Eddie walked in on him.
âItâs okay, Buck,â Eddie reassured him, like he had read his mind, âI just want to play with you a little longer.âÂ
Buckâs went slack-jawed. Eddie wasnât usually so confident. He liked it. It was sexy. Once again, Eddieâs thumb grazed over the tip of Buckâs dick, gathering the pooling precum, then continued stroking the shaft with remarkable technique. This time, he stepped closer, using his free hand to cup Buckâs balls in one hand, while stroking with the other.Â
Buckâs vision was blurry at this point. He was so needy. His body felt like it was on fire, tingling at every inch of exposed skin. He needed to cum so badly. Needed Eddie to keep touching him forever. Needed the pleasure not to end. But still, definitely, needing the release.Â
âPlease, Eds,â He whined.Â
Eddie grinned, pleased.Â
âBegging already?â He sounded almost sadistic. Buck had never seen this side of Eddie, but he could get used to it.Â
âMmhyeah. Need,- fuck!âŚI need to cum,â He continued to beg, when Eddieâs hand slowed to a halt once again.Â
âSoon, cariĂąo,â He said, but, once again, his nice words came with a sadistic tone. A tone Buck could not protest against.Â
Buck could feel tears pricking at the back of his eyes. He could take Eddieâs teasing, but his body was a different story. He needed this. Ached for it. He needed to cum.Â
His pillowy, pink lips remained parted as he recited a steady stream of pleas. Eddie obliged, stroking Buckâs cock again, only this time at an excruciatingly slow pace. It may not have been so pleasurable had Buck not been on the brink like he was. But, at this stage, with every nerve on fire, every soft, slow touch felt monumental to Buck.Â
The pleas did not stop, and gradually, Eddie picked up the speed. His wrist moved expertly, as he guided Buckâs pleasure to its peak. Buck teetered on the edge for a while, his body having been pushed almost too far, but not quite. He was going to cum, whether Eddie liked it or not.Â
His hands pushed against the tile, too scared to make things weird to place them where he really wanted them â on Eddieâs skin. His head fell back and his eyebrows scrunched.Â
Eddie admired how beautiful he looked, even wrecked and obscene like this, his beauty was a beacon. Undeniable. His birthmark was a little darker than it sometimes appeared, and Eddie found himself wishing the position they were in allowed for him to be able to kiss it. He could have, if he really wanted to, dropped his hand from Buckâs cock to press his lips to Buckâs brow instead, but he decided against it. He didnât want to torture the guy. Not more than necessary, anyway.Â
âGo ahead, Buck. Come for me,â Eddie finally said the words Buck longed to hear.Â
With some final strokes of Eddieâs hand on his cock, Buck finally fell right over the edge, his pleasure exploding in large spurts of hot cum, draping themselves in white ribbons over his own abdomen, the shower floor and Eddieâs hand. The sight on its own was intoxicating.Â
As he came down, it was like all the blood rushed back into Buckâs brain. What had just happened?
He was suddenly bashful, which was strange, considering his cum was still on Eddieâs hand. He couldnât bring himself to meet Eddieâs gaze. His heart rate refused to slow down, as the thought of possibly having to move out of Eddieâs house crossed his mind. What if everything had been ruined?
Eddie seemed far less concerned. He slid his shorts off, tossing them into the hamper, and pushed past Buck to enter the shower cubicle, shutting the glass door behind him. He turned on the water again, rinsing himself and Buck off quickly, humming a tune softly to himself. So, he wasnât freaked out?
With great effort, Buckâs eyes finally glanced up, met with shiny, brown eyes which were so full of something Buck could only describe as love. And he knew it because heâd seen it before. In fact, heâd seen that exact look in those very same eyes before. Dozens of times probably.Â
But, now, he knew. He knew what it was. What it always had been.Â
Hey love, I'd like to request Buck xreader, with enemies to lovers. Reader and Buck are co-workers, not in good terms tho. After an office/firehouse party they wake up next to eachother!! Reader want to leave before he wakes up, but Buck actually has a crush on her!! If you feel like it, maybe you can use the:ă"haven't you seen the way he looks at you?" "how does he look at me?" "like he's hoplessly falling in love." ă, perhaps between Hen or Athena and reader either at the party, or after the incident. Anyway, whatever you feel like writing! Thanks for your time and your work â¤ď¸â¤ď¸
Blame It (on the Alcohol)
A/N: Iâm baaAack!Â
And we got our first request!!!Â
I was so excited I literally screamed when I saw it in my inbox, thank you, Anon
Then... I wrote the first bit and promptly procrastinated finishing it for over a week. But fear not â It is here!
I decided to make it a little longer than my usual one-shots. Thought it was only fair since I took so long to post it and also just to show gratitude to whoever sent it <3. Iâm truly geeking over the fact that people are actually enjoying my writing. When I read the req I thought it would be more fluff/plot/Teen&Up Rating, but then I started writing and it becameâŚwell, this.
So, now itâs rated E â again, wanted to treat whoever is reading these and enjoying them, so there is some smut towards the end. Also, the Title obviously is from the song, but as the author Iâve decided itâs specifically the Glee version (Yes, I am a Ryan Murphy victim, and you probably are too if youâre reading this for fun).Â
I hope you enjoy this one, lovelies. Itâs a little enemies to lovers moment. Little bit of fluff, little bit of smut. No âY/Nâ stuff bc personally that really takes me out of it when Iâm reading.Â
Is it weird to you if I spell in British English even though the characters are technically American? Iâm not American myself so I just write the way Iâm used to usually, but I wonder.Â
I might end up writing a short update/prequel/drabble to this with just the smut scene from the forgotten night. Let me know if you guys want that or if this scratches the smut itch well enough on its own. Maybe some things are better left unsaid/forgotten.Â
Send more reqs, I'll try not to take 2 weeks to answer them next time :)
AlsoâŚTears by Sabrina Carpenter is so fitting for Buck/Oliver to me. Like, idk about you, but personally, the thought of (both of?) them does, indeed, get me wet :/
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Blame It (on the Alcohol)
18+| One-Shot | Evan Buckley x Reader | Requested| 7.3KÂ
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âSeriously?!â He complained, like he so often did.
âWhat now?â You asked, feeling obliged to since you were the only one within earshot of his whining.Â
He just glared at you, with his lips pursed and nostrils flaring. This is how the majority of your interactions with Buck played out.Â
Ever since youâd joined the 118, you had found a second family at the firehouse. Everyone was so warm and welcoming, you could hardly believe how close you had grown to these people in such a relatively short period of time. Everyone, that was, except for Buck. God, even his nickname was stupid.Â
It felt like Buck enjoyed being unpleasant to you. He was curt and critical of everything you did, even when you hadnât done anything wrong. It was really starting to get on your nerves.Â
You had heard through the grapevine that Buck was tough on probies. Someone had even mentioned the words âchased aroundâ and âchainsawâ in a sentence once, and you thought it had to be a baseless rumour, except after experiencing being a 118 probie, you were inclined to believe that there was truth to it.Â
Except, you had finally worked your last shift as a probie.Â
Having completed a whole year on the job, you were about to be properly welcomed into the Los Angeles Fire Department, and consequently, hopefully, gain the respect of your peers. Or at least you hoped so.
Now that you were no longer a probationary firefighter, you would no longer Buckâs subordinate, and he had to start treating you as an equal.Â
There was a small formal ceremony where you were officially promoted, but the 118, being a tight-knit bunch, took every opportunity to party, so they planned a little get-together to celebrate your achievement.Â
Over the past year, you had become well-acquainted with the friends and family of the 118, and this was not the first time you had been to one of their houses to celebrate a milestone or holiday, but you were touched when they decided to throw a party in your honour; a sign that they had truly embraced you into their little group.
The party was set to be held at the end of the week, so, before celebrating anything, you showed up to the firehouse to work your first shift as a proper, honest-to-God, non-probationary firefighter.
You walked in with your head held high and a renewed sense of confidence. Up on the loft level, Bobby, Chimney, Hen and Eddie were sat around the table drinking coffee and when you climbed up, they each congratulated you with warm smiles.Â
Then, a loud, bellowing voice called out your last name from the staircase, followed by the sound heavy boots marching up the stairs. Buck appeared at the top of the stairs with a scowl painted on his face.Â
âFloor needs mopping,â He grunted in your general direction.
You just stared surprised, expecting him to maybe soften up a little and congratulate you like the others had, before barking out orders to mop. So, you waited a beat, thinking maybe he was razzing you, and was going to burst out laughing any second âHe didnât. The rest of the team seemed equally puzzled.Â
âSheâs not a probie anymore, Buck,â Chimney chimed in to your aid.Â
âI know. Thatâs why I used her last name,â he said matter-of-factly, walking right past you to the kitchen.Â
You swallowed your pride and made your way to the stairs before Bobby told you to stay and drink your coffee first, before starting the chores, then reminded Buck that he is not the Captain and doesnât get to give orders.Â
As the day went on, you began to realise that Buckâs attitude towards you had not changed with the end of your probation. If anything, the way he was acting around you during this shift was a digression.Â
It bothered you that he would be so blatantly rude, especially now that there was no longer a professional hierarchy for him to uphold. He was just purposely being an asshole.
Despite what you had heard, about Buckâs treatment of probies, you had also heard that he was a goofball with a heart of gold to the rest of his coworkers. People actually used the words âgolden retrieverâ to describe him. Well, with you, he was acting more like a rabid Rottweiler. Okay, maybe thatâs a stretch, but you still couldnât believe that anyone would ever be inclined to compare the person you knew as Buck to a golden retriever.Â
You had seen him interact with the rest of the team. He was always sweet to them. You seemed to get on his nerves. Even the cadence of his voice changed when he spoke to you. Deeper. More intimidating. You found yourself wishing you could uninvite him to the party, like a middle schooler holding a grudge, but despite how unprofessional he seemed to be, you refused to stoop to his level.Â
The weekend rolled around, and it was the day of your party. Bobby and Athena graciously offered to host the party in their backyard, which was decorated with twinkling lights and a banner of congratulations. When you got there, the yard was already crawling with people: your coworkers, their spouses, and a small army of children wreaking havoc.Â
The smile on your face widened when you realised that none of the faces in the small crowd of people belonged to Buck. The joy is short-lived, though, when soon after, Buck strolls in, fashionably late. He seemed different than he did at work. More relaxed. He evenâŚsmiled at you? Was your vision playing tricks on you? Did he have something in his eye he was trying to blink away?
Buck came up to you, handing you a cold beer, then clinked his own beer bottle against yours. You fought the reflex to thank him, instead taking a long swig. He smirked like he was amused at your little act of defiance, but you didnât engage. Instead, you turned your attention to Eddie, continuing the conversation the two of you were having before you were rudely interrupted.Â
As the party went on, you had a few more drinks, but nothing too crazy. It was a work event, after all. At your Captainâs home, no less.Â
It started getting late, and, not wanting to inconvenience Bobby and Athena by hanging around too long, people began to slowly file out. You were still full of energy and suggested that you move the party to a bar. Hen and Karen declined the invitation, seeing as they were there with their kids. Chimney and Maddie too. Eddie, however, agreed, since Christopher already had plans to sleep over at Hen and Karenâs place.Â
Unfortunately, wherever Eddie goes, Buck follows. When he heard Eddie agree to extending the party, Buck was quick to swoop in and invite himself too. The three of you took an Uber to a nearby dive bar. Unbeknownst to you, you were out with the party kings, as it turned out. The night quickly got out of hand. You attracted a crowd of partygoers who were buying you drinks left and right, shooting shots together, and dancing to every song.
All three of you became heavily intoxicated. So drunk, in fact, someone had decided it was time to end the night and call an Uber home. You, Buck and Eddie swayed on the sidewalk, trying to figure out how to order the cab and add each of your addresses to the destination, typing into the phone.Â
You remembered that part semi-clearly, in fact. You definitely put in your address. Which is why what happened next was all the more confusing.Â
âââââ
You stir awake slowly, eyes still closed and face smushed into the pillow. You can already feel the way your head is pounding, and you would rather postpone opening your eyes to sunlight as far as possible. The first thing you notice is that your pillow feelsâŚdifferent. You can also tell that you are completely naked under the covers, which checks out. You probably got home too drunk to change into your pjs. Typical after a night out.Â
Then, something really weird happens. The covers move, pulled slightly off your body. The unmistakable sound of a personâs shifting body weight and a soft groan coming from your left. Now you have to open your eyes.Â
You brace yourself, lifting yourself a little to look over. You can barely see anything under the mountain of white fabric, but you see enough. A little tuft of dark blond curls peeking through between the sheets. Your eyes are now wide open and you feel frozen in place.Â
It canât beâŚbutâŚbut.
The sleeping giant next to you shifts again, this time turning his body towards you, arm coming around and dropping over you, almost crushing you.Â
Yeah. It definitely is.Â
Heâs very clearly still fast asleep, but his arm grabs onto you, his body pulling yours closer in sleep.Â
You contemplate your life choices and how the hell you ended up in bed with him. You try to recall anything that could maybe explain this away. Nothing resurfaces. The last thing you remember is leaving the bar, typing your address into the Uber app on someoneâs phoneâŚEddieâs phone? Then you seem to remember flashes of being in a car, sitting in the middle, smushed between your two coworkers. Thatâs all you can come up with.
The torn up piece of foil shining on the nightstand and the soreness you feel between your thighs confirm what you already know to be true.Â
You had sex with Buck last night.Â
âââ
This cannot be happening.
You feel like screaming but you definitely canât risk waking him up. How much did you drink? You didnât think any amount of alcohol could convince you to do this. Him. Itâs not like he was unattractive. In fact, you hated just how hot you thought he was. How infuriating it was that the jerk from work was so undeniably sexy, casually lifting your body weight in his stupid cutoff shirts that showed off his stupid sculpted shoulders and stupid veiny biceps in the middle of the firehouse gym.Â
He stirs in his sleep, tightening his grip on you, and you can see a fresh little lovebite right on the edge of where his shoulder meets his neck. It almost makes you groan out loud âfrom embarrassment, of course.Â
He seems so different this way. His face relaxed, lips slightly parted. So pink, and bitten and close. He snores softly, too, which almost makes you giggle. You wish the snores were the only sounds to come from those lips, instead of barked orders and quiet murmurs of disapproval.
He looksâŚcute?, You think. All peaceful and flushed and pretty. Definitely pretty.Â
You quickly snap out of it. You need to get out of his bed. Out of his apartment. Out of his arms. That was gonna be tough. His arm was heavy, draped over you, pulling you close. You wouldnât be able to slip out without moving him and moving him would wake him. You definitely donât want to wake him.Â
You decide to do the only thing you can do and just wait it out. So you stay still, waiting until he shifts again and moves his arm off you so you can slip out inconspicuously.Â
Except he doesnât. It seems like an eternity. The only times he moves, he somehow pulls you in closer, and at some point he nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck. You just lay there, trying to ignore the way his hot breath on your skin makes something flutter in the depths of your stomach.Â
Then something weird happens. He shifts a little again, his hand caressing your arm, and nose still pressed into your neck. Thatâs when you feel it. The gentlest, softest kiss, planted right in the crook your neck. For such a light touch, it knocks the air from your lungs.Â
Then, while youâre trying to recalibrate yourself, something even stranger happens. He says something. His voice is gravelly and quiet, but itâs unmistakable.Â
He says your name.Â
Your first name. Not âprobieâ. Not your last name. Just your name, plain and simple. Just one whisper, but for a second you think it was the only way you ever wanted to hear your name spoken from now on.Â
Then he finally shifts, moving his arm off you, freeing you from the embrace. You snap into focus, slipping away until you roll off the bed. You begin the search for your clothes, shuffling around stark naked in his room. You find one shoe next to the stair, your bra on the nightstand, and your dress on the floor, in a pile with his pants. Downstairs you find your other shoe and your jacket. You get dressed quickly, realising you never found your underwear. Youâre torn between going back up to look for them or leaving, but you hear the bed creak again and decide to just cut your losses and run out of there.Â
ââââ
Itâs now a new day. You walk into the firehouse once again, for the start of a new shift, a little nervous about seeing Buck again. You two didnât speak about whatever happened. In fact, you hadnât spoken at all since that night. It wasnât unusual, after all, you werenât exactly close. Except now you knew what his lips felt like on the skin of your neck. And, presumably, your subconscious knew what his lips felt like on other parts of your body, too.Â
When you step into the locker room, Buckâs there, back to you, with his shirt off. Of-fucking-course. You can see the fading bruise of the lovebite on his shoulder when he lifts his arms up to slip on his LAFD T-shirt.Â
You clear your throat to alert him of your presence, and he glances towards you. Thereâs no scowl on his face this time. In fact, his expression is unreadable.
The rest of the day, thereâs no snide remarks, no jabs, no teasing. In fact, it seems like heâs avoiding you. Your stomach is in knots. Did he remember? Did you forget something important? Something bad? You hated not being able to remember; forced to wonder what could have possibly happened to change his attitude towards you so drastically.Â
In the evening, you try to get some rest in the bunks but you canât seem to sleep. You grow frustrated and decide to go to the kitchen to make yourself some tea instead. When you get there, you find Buck at the table, sitting alone in the dim light. You contemplate turning back down the stairs, but he already looked up at you, and it would be weirder to leave now. So, instead, you walk past him casually, turning on the kettle.Â
âHey, uhâŚCan I ask you something?â He asks from behind you. You groan inside.Â
âYeah, sure. What is it?â You answer, turning and steadying yourself against the countertop. His gaze is still focused away from you as he speaks.Â
âAfter your partyâŚâ
Oh, God. Here we go. You think.Â
âDid we, uhâŚâ He continues, ââŚHave sex?âÂ
You try to keep your expression neutral. So, he didnât remember it either?Â
âWhy do you think that?â You ask, trying hard to keep your voice steady.Â
Thereâs a hint of a smirk on his face, âFound a pair of lacy panties tangled up in my sheets when I was making the bedâŚthey werenât exactly my size, soâŚâÂ
You purse your lips, âThatâs it?âÂ
âAnd someâŚother stuff. Anyway, did we?âÂ
âWhy do you assume it was me? We were drinking with all those people at the bar.â
âYes, right. Exactly. And thatâs what I thought too, butâŚâ He begins.Â
âBut what?â You ask, and his brow is furrowed but the corners of his mouth are upturned.Â
âWell, I seem to remember an Uber ride, after we left the bar. With you and Eddie. And unless Eddieâs started wearing lacy thongsâŚâÂ
The kettle finishes boiling and you thank your lucky stars for the distraction, turning away from him to steep your tea, hiding the way your face was burning.Â
âItâs not a big deal. I justâŚI canât really remember what happened. I just woke up alone really confused. So, if you can shed some light,â he says.Â
âWell, I canât.âÂ
âNo, yeah. It must have been someone else, then I guess.âÂ
Did he sound disappointed?Â
âNo, I meanâŚâ You take a deep breath, and a sip of tea, hoping it would help calm your nerves but it just scalds your tongue, âI donât remember much either.âÂ
His eyebrows shoot up at your words.Â
âS-so it was you?â
You cringe a little, âUh, wellâŚyeah. I woke up in your bed,â You whisper, desperately hoping the ground would open and swallow you whole, âdidnât exactly remember how I got there. Or why.âÂ
His expression turns coy, ââwhyâ?â He echoes.
âYeah, âwhyâ. Youâre not exactly nice to me, usually. I mean you-â
Youâre cut off by the alarm, signalling a call coming in. You drop the mug of tea in the sink and the two of you rush downstairs, putting on your turnouts.Â
The next morning, you sit on the roof watching the sunrise. Youâre exhausted, having gotten no sleep the whole shift. You hear the door swing open and you hope itâs not Buck. When you turn to look, youâre pleasantly surprised to see Hen coming to sit next to you.Â
She takes one look at you and knows something off. God, did you really look that mopey?Â
âCome on. Say it. Whatâs wrong?â She asks.Â
âWhy do you think somethingâs wrong?âÂ
âOh, please. Do not pretend right now. Save us both the time and just tell me what happened,â She orders.Â
âFine.â
âI knew it!âÂ
âKnew what? I havenât said anything yet,â You protest.Â
âOkay, but I knew something was up. Go on. Spill,â She encourages.Â
âWellâŚyou know how after the party last time, Eddie and Buck and I went to a barâŚâ You begin. The look on Henâs face tells you she already understood exactly where this was going.Â
âBuck or Eddie?â She asks simply. You groan.
âBuck.â
She looks like sheâs stifling laughter, pursing her lips with an amused look on her features.Â
âI know, I know. Stupid. I justâŚI donât know. We got really drunk. I donât even remember it,â You explain and she frowns.Â
âWait, did heâŚtake advantage of you?âÂ
âNo, no. Itâs not like that. He doesnât remember anything either. I just think I momentarily forgot that he hates me around the 6th drink.â
âYou mean you forgot that you hate him,â she corrects.Â
âWhatâs the difference?â You ask.Â
âThe difference is Buck definitely doesnât hate you,â she asserts.Â
âOh, come on, Hen. Youâve seen how he talks to me. How he treats me.â
âWell, Buck doesnât exactly have the best track record when it comes to this kind of thing. He just gets weirdly jealous and destructive. Which, I know, is ridiculous, but that doesnât change the fact that heâs totally into you.â
You scoff.Â
âI know he has aâŚstrange way of showing it, but trust me. I mean, weâve all seen the way he looks at you.âÂ
âAnd, how does he look at me?â You ask.Â
âLike heâs hopelessly falling in love,â she states, matter-of-factly.Â
You want to protest, scoff again, or roll your eyes into the back of your head. Maybe even fling yourself off the roof just to prove a point. But it was almost like her words froze you solid.Â
Could it be? Was Buck in love with you? Sorry,âhopelesslyâ in love with you. It didnât make any sense. What did Hen even mean by that? You barely ever saw him look at you. Every time your eyes were on him, he seemed to look right past you, averting his gaze to anything else, unless he was scowling, in which case his eyes would turn to daggers pointed right at you.
Except the way he kissed your neck that morning still rings through your mind. Impossible to forget or ignore. Your name on his tongue. He may have been asleep but even in sleep he knew it was you he was kissing. Or if he didnât know, he certainly wanted it to be you.Â
âHenrietta Wilson, have you lost your mind?â You ask with a smile.
âCall me that again and see what happens,â she threatens and you laugh. In fact, you couldnât close your mouth if you tried. As much as you didnât want to admit it, the idea of Buck being in love with you, at the very least amused you. At the very worst, terrified the shit out of you.Â
âI think you need to talk this out with him,â She continues.Â
âAnd say what?â
âWell, first you should probably figure out what you feel,â she states, âSo, how do you feel? Do you like Buck?âÂ
âN-no, well, maybe, kinda. No. Heâs so mean to me. ButâŚHe is really, you know, attractive,â your cheeks feel boiling, âAnd yeah, when Iâm around him sometimes itâsâŚa little hard to breathe, but thatâs only because heâs so infuriating andâŚâ
ââŚAnd?â Hen wills you to continue. You can only think about how his arm felt around you. How his body heat felt against yours. How his lips on your skin left invisible ink, electrical impulses. How the way he whispered your name made you finally feel like your name suited you. How you wanted so desperately to recover the missing memories, to know what it was like to have him.
ââŚAnd, I think I maybe doâŚlike him, yeah.âÂ
âGreat. So, talk to him. Ask him what heâs thinking and feeling. See if you two are on the same page,â She suggested. You just nodded silently.Â
A few days passed since your conversation with Hen on the roof. Despite her counsel, you hadnât made time to speak to Buck.Â
Now, you were home, in your own apartment, finishing up some dishes and getting ready for a quiet night in. Thatâs when the doorbell rings.Â
You dry your hands on a tea towel and head to the door, looking through the peep hole.Â
Buck?!Â
You open the door, confused more than anything.Â
âHow do you know where I live?â is the first thing that comes out of your mouth. He grins.Â
âGood evening, to you, too. Is this how you greet all your guests? Not very hospitable, are you?â He teases.Â
âGuest implies invited,â You retort.Â
âI asked Hen,â He answered your first question.Â
âWhat are you doing here, then?â You ask.Â
He holds up a pair of lacy black panties, which he seems to have washed. âCame to return this to its rightful owner.âÂ
You grab his wrist and pull him inside, hoping none of your neighbours were in the hallway and saw any of that. He just laughs.Â
âWhat is wrong with you?!âÂ
âOh, come on, are you actually upset? Donât you want them back?â He sees the frustration on your face, âOkay, hey. Listen, I know we kinda got off on a weird footâŚâÂ
âBuckâŚweâve known each other for a whole year. I donât think âgot off on the wrong footâ applies here.âÂ
âYouâre right. Yes. But, considering recent developments, maybe we should justâŚtalk about it. Squash thisâŚthing between us. Whatever it is.â
Your heart sinks at the idea of âsquashingâ whatever was going on between the two of you, but you kept your expression stoic.Â
âIt was a drunken mistake, Buck.â
âYeah, no. I didnât mean that. I mean, me. Okay, Iâm making this about myself, arenât I. Damn it. What Iâm trying to say is, Iâm sorry. Okay? Iâve been a dick to you. I tried to convince myself I was just trying to be hard on you to train you well, butâŚâ
âBut what?â
âBut, now youâre not a probie anymore. So, Iâm out of excuses,â He explains.Â
âSoâŚyouâre just a dickâ you clarify.Â
âYeahâŚâ He scratches the back of his neck, âExcept also, maybe Iâm an idiot, too?âÂ
âMaybe?âÂ
âOkay, Iâm an idiot. Can I be honest with you for a minute?â He asks, and you just nod. âI think maybe the reason Iâve been such a dick to you is because I have someâŚcomplicated feelings.â
âComplicated? Complicated how?â You ask, trying not to sound too eager.Â
âComplicated like the day you walked into the firehouse for the first time I couldnât take my eyes off you.âÂ
âohâÂ
âYeah. And, listen, I know you donât like me. I mean, why would you. Iâve made an ass of myself for an entire year-â
âYeah, you have,â you cut him off.Â
âRight. Uh, I just mean, I know itâs not an excuse. Iâve been trying to work on it. But I just wanted you to know that you didnât do anything wrong and thereâs no bad blood on my end. I justâŚlost my mind a little,â a faint pink hue brushes over his cheeks.
âAnyway, uhh, here. I washed them for youâŚHope thatâs not weird. It seemed weirder to return them used. Donât worry, I used the delicate cycle on the washing machine and some really nice fabric softener. Itâs meant to smell like peonies. I know you like thoseâŚso, yeah. Iâll let you get back to whatever you were doing. And, again, Iâm sorry.âÂ
âNo, Buck. Wait!â You call out, holding your arms steady on your side so they donât shake, âDo you want a drink? Maybe something non-alcoholic this time?âÂ
He raises his eyebrow confusedly, but the smirk on his face tells you he will take you up on the invitation.Â
The two of you sip tea on the couch. Itâs a little awkward. After all, youâve never really spoken much to each other, and the fact that you had sex that neither of you remembers it hangs over both of your heads like a dark cloud.Â
Except, you say something dumb and it makes him laugh, and he whispers your name again. The way he said it in bed that morning. And it sends a shiver down your spine, which he noticesâhe notices everything about you.Â
Few words are exchanged after that.
Your name, again. A smirk on his lips. Another shiver down your spine. The smirk grows into satisfied grin.Â
His finger on your cheek. Bated breath. A âw-whatâre you d-?â from you, cut off by the creak of the sofa when he scoots closer, finger still resting gently on your face.Â
A âcan I?â from him. You just nod minutely, like you donât want to be implicated if things go south.Â
Then his lips, your lips. Touching. Kissing. Crashing. Familiar in taste, like an old perfume that transports you back in time. Youâve kissed those lips before. Hell, youâd tasted every part of him. Still, you want more. He seems to have the same idea, you think as his tongue licks into your mouth.Â
His strong hand is on your thigh, fingers digging into the skin, nails bitten to the quick, just as they always were. You relish the familiarity.Â
He doesnât push further, keeping his hand at a respectable position on your thigh. Definitely suggestive, but not imposing. Heâd never impose. Not this. The ache in his core was hard to ignore, but that was his own problem to deal with if you werenât up for more.Â
Luckily for both of you, you definitely are up for more.
Your hands cup his face on both sides, and you push yourself closer to him, simultaneously pulling him closer to you.Â
âWant youâŚagain,â you whisper breathlessly into his mouth. This seems to fan the flames, making him audibly groan back into your mouth, and his hands moves with a renewed sense of purpose slowly up your thigh. You tug desperately at his shirt, wanting to rip it off him. He helps you undress him, then yourself.Â
You keep kissing, skin, lips, all of it, tangled up on the couch, until he breaks the kiss, pulling away from you a little. You almost begin to blush until he makes his intentions clear. He wasnât about to stop this. Not even close.Â
âI wanna do this right,â he professes, fighting his urge to look down at your naked body. He does surprisingly well at maintaining eye contact despite how badly he ached to ogle you. Can you blame him?Â
âWhat does that mean?â You ask with a little giggle that sounds pornographic to him in this moment. He goes to speak, getting a mischievous glint in his eye, and a goofy grin on his lips.Â
âYou like me back, right?â He asks coyly. You roll your eyes and he protests.Â
âNo, donât be like that. Come on. I was so vulnerable, telling you how I feel. Just give me one moment. Be real with me. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?â He waits for you to answer.Â
Your lips part but your tongue is tied for a second. Then you finally speak, âyou were vulnerable after a year of machismo bullshit-âÂ
âYeah, yeah. I know. I was a dick. But, please, sweetheart. JustâŚsay it,â He cuts you off, pleading for you to say what he already knows.Â
You sigh defeatedly, âYes, Buck, I like you back.âÂ
That immediately makes his face light up. He leans in and whispers, âGood girlâ before capturing your lips and resuming the needy kiss.Â
His hands wrap around your body and, without breaking the kiss, he picks you up, lifting you onto his body.
You knew he was strong âone look at him was enough to deduce thatâbut you didnât realise heâd use that strength to gently manhandle you like this. The feeling of being suspended makes you giggle, âBuck, what are you doing?!â you ask through laughter.Â
âHey, I told you. Wanna do this right,â He grins against your lips and your teeth clack a little, ânow, which doorâs your bedroom?âÂ
He carries you through the hall and into your room, before gently setting you on the bed, then taking a step back, eyeing you with intensity, making you blush crimson.Â
âJust wanna make sure I remember every part this time,â he speaks softly, leaving a trail of kisses from your knee up to your upper thigh, âWanna memorise your body. Your pretty sounds. What you like,âŚAll of it.âÂ
His fingers ghost over your panties, applying pressure. He smiles amused, âSo wet for me already, sweetheart?â His lips continue kissing your thighs, as he murmurs perfect over and over, like a broken record.Â
You mewl softly each time his mouth inches ever so close to where you need him most, not quite touching. Youâre still in your underwear but you can feel the heat from his breath through the fabric, which is only making this more torturous.
âBuckâŚâ You plead.
âWhatâs that, sweetheart? There something you want,â He grins, and you want to reach out and slap that smile right off his face. Havenât you suffered enough because of him?Â
He seems to have the same epiphany, because he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties âwhich are unfortunately decidedly less sexy than the lace thong he had you in last time but he doesnât seem too concerned with that at the moment â and begins to pull them down your legs.
Once youâre free, he wastes no time, burying his face right into the spot where your thighs meet. You feel his nose first, before you feel his tongue, then after a beat, his fingers begin circling around your opening. You canât deny that he knows what heâs doing, expertly working his tongue, rocking his whole head against you, drawing obscene sounds from your lips. Your noises make all the blood in his body rush to one single region, and now heâs lightheaded, but heâs never been happier.Â
He laps over your clit in a relentless rhythm, kissing it like he was kissing your other lips earlier. At some point, his fingers stop tracing your opening, and instead, he slips them into you, one after the other. He curves them up, massaging the spongy texture inside you. His fingers on your g-spot combined with the clitoral stimulation from his tongue make you writhe under his touch.Â
He can tell youâre close, which only eggs him on to keep going steady, stimulating you from inside and out. You feel the pressure build at the base of your core and your fingers tighten around his curls as your toes begin to tingle and the dam breaks. Your impulse is to squeeze your thighs shut, but Buckâs strong hold keeps them pushed open, presented like a meal to him, and he doesnât let up. Your legs quiver and vibrate as his tongue works your through your orgasm, and you have to physically tug him off you from his hair to stop him when it becomes too overwhelming. Â
When you look down at him, that goofy grin is plastered right on his pretty face and you have the urge to both smack it off him with a pillow, and simultaneously to kiss it off him. He doesnât give you much time to decide which one to go with, climbing up to face level and kissing you deeply. He tastes like pussy and you canât help but moan a little, which obviously pleases him from the way he hums.Â
You want him. Need him. So, you tug gently on his boxers but his hand swats yours away, calling you âgreedyâ between kisses. Instead, he moves his focus to your chest. His hands cup your boobs through your bra, then slip under the fabric, pinching your nipples between his fingers just enough to make you feel electrified. His hand slips under your back and you arch off the mattress to give him access to the clasp. Soon, the bra is on the bedroom floor and his soft, pink lips are latched onto your nipple, while he plays with your other breast. When he switches, he lightly grazes your nipple with his teeth. It doesnât hurt but the sensation shoots directly to your still-sensitive clit, making you mewl.Â
âThatâs it, sweetheart, make those pretty little noises for me,â he coaxes. You canât help but oblige.Â
His mouth moves on you, from your nipple, to the flesh of your breasts, all the way up your neck. He shifts for better access and his clothed cock brushes against your bare cunt, making you arch your back and push your hips closer to his. He doesnât tease or stop you this time, clearly his self-control is also hanging on by a thread. He wants this. He needs you. Now.Â
He tugs off his boxers in on fell swoop and his cock springs out, already hard and throbbing. The tip glistens with precum. Teasing you had just as much of an effect on him as it had on you. You canât help but stare at his cock. It doesnât surprise you that itâs pretty â that much you assumed, just from looking at the rest of him. What really renders you speechless is the size of it. You canât believe youâd taken that, and even more how you could have possibly forgotten taking that. No wonder the soreness that lasted for a couple days after.Â
Buck noticed your admiration, clearly enjoying the stroke to his ego. His hand wrapped around his cock, tugging just slightly, spreading the precum onto the rest of his length.Â
âDonât you want me to give you head?â You ask. He just chuckles softly, like what youâre suggesting is so completely ridiculous.Â
âNot right now, baby. Right now I just need to have you,â He confesses, âCome closer, sweetheart.âÂ
His arms grab your thighs and pull you closer to the edge of the bed, spreading you open. He slips his cock between your slick folds, rubbing both his own length and you with your arousal. Then he stops moving altogether.
âFuck!â He grunts. You just raise your eyebrow quizzically.Â
âWe used a condom last time. I didnât bring one with me, today. This isnât exactly where I thought tonight was heading,â he explains.Â
âNightstand. Bottom drawer,â You breathe out, staying still while he reaches over to open the drawer, âbut, BuckâŚI donât, I meanâŚI have an IUD.âÂ
He freezes, foil wrapper still in hand, âA-are you sure?âÂ
âYeahâŚI mean, I havenât had a new partner in a while. Not since the last time I got tested. Apart fromâŚwell, you,â You blush.Â
âMe neitherâŚâÂ
You watch as he tosses the condom, hovering over you instead. His gaze is focused on your face, burning holes.
âI wanna see what your face does when I fuck you, sweetheart. Wanna save the memory,â he says, brushing a stray strand away from your face. Â
âJesus, fuck!â You exclaim, partly from his filthy comments and partly from how heâs pressing his tip just barely into you.Â
âDoes it hurt, baby?âÂ
You shake your head, no. âFeelsâŚgood,â You pant, and he pushes in a little more. This time the noise it louder.Â
âThatâs it. Yeah, let me see that pretty face. So good, lemme hear those noises,â he coos, pushing himself slowly into your warm, wet cunt. The way your body welcomes him makes him see stars. He fights against the impulse to squeeze his eyes shut. He was serious about remembering every moment. He needs to see you through every moment of this.Â
He buries himself completely inside you and a mangled groan comes out of his throat. Your nails scratch his back as you claw at him to pull him impossibly closer.Â
âFuck, babyâŚHow the hell did I forget this?â He groans.Â
âN-need more. Please, Evan,â you plead. His real name on your tongue makes him shudder. Heâs not sure why but he likes it coming from you. Although, heâs fairly certain there wasnât anything you could do right now that he wouldnât like.Â
âPatience, sweetheart. Just, let me enjoy you like this first,â he whispers.Â
His hand comes up to cup your cheek and he kisses you. Slow this time. Tender. It almost feels wrong, a kiss that intimate, when a second ago you were about to start begging him to fuck you. But, of course, itâs perfectly right. He channels all his confusing, overwhelming emotions into the kiss, and soon, it turns desperate. Thatâs when he gives you what you want.Â
He thrusts his hips, in and out. He starts off slow, but very soon, heâs fucking you at a steady pace, making obscene slapping sounds with each contact of his skin with yours. His cock pulls back almost all the way out of you each time. Then, each time, it returns with a driving force, stopping only when the tip of it comes into contact with your cervix. You cringe a little on the first few thrusts, bracing yourself for pain or discomfort, but it doesnât come. Pretty soon, the only look on your face is bliss.Â
Buck can see the effect heâs having on you. How youâve come undone beneath his body, like putty in his hands. He looks at you with nothing but affection. Adoration. Something close to worship. You have all his attention.Â
âLook at you, taking me so well. Youâre my good girl, sweetheart,â he coos into your ear. You canât bring yourself to try to speak.Â
âYou know what you have to do now, right, sweet girl? You know how to be a good girl for me?â He asks in such a sweet and sexy voice, it makes you short-circuit. You shake your head a little and he chuckles.Â
âThatâs okay, sweetheart. Iâll tell you, then.â He speeds up just slightly, making you moan louder.Â
âWhat you have to do now, sweetheart, isâitâs really simple, you just have to cum on my cock. Dâyou think you can do that, baby?âÂ
Your eyes roll back. What kind of a fucking freak is this guy? His words alone push you closer to the edge. You manage to nod this time, letting him know youâre close. He smiles, bringing his fingers to your clit. Thatâs all it takes. In a matter of seconds youâre writhing and gasping, grasping at him while he keeps you steady, clenching and cumming on him.Â
He leans in, lips brushing your ear, and asks, âCan I cum inside you, baby? Or do you want it somewhere else?âÂ
You nod frantically, trying to recover from your second orgasm of the night, âInside,â you manage to croak out.Â
It doesnât take long before he stills deep inside you, hands holding your body as close as he can, while he spills deep inside you, filling you like you belong to him.Â
The two of you are still, tangled up in each otherâs limbs. His softening cock is still buried deep in your cunt, where he prefers it. His big arms hold you against his chest, and you let yourself relax into his embrace. His lips press soft, chaste kisses all over your face.Â
Then, he says it again. Whispers your name in his wrecked voice. It makes you shiver, like clockwork.
You want to hear that sound about a million more times. Which is great, cause all he can think is how badly he wants to make you shiver with his words like this every day of his life.Â
(normal guy voice) you can have my back any day
(insane guy voice) or you know, you can ... (once over)(licks lips) you can have mine
Morning, His Place (One-Shot)
Evan Buckley x Eddie Diaz
A/N: Another Buddie fic! It's just over 4k. I was kinda blocked then this just poured out of me so...yay! It's meant to take place after S8 finale. It's kinda fluffy, very cute. happy ending/requited, feel-good Buddie stuff. Also, kinda couch theory! No smut in this one (shocker, I know). Also, title is from You Are In Love by Taylor Swift.
Fluff | Buddie | One-Shot | 4k
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What the fuck just happened?
Eddie sits in his car, staring at his hands on the steering wheel, but not actually starting the car. The steering wheel is, in fact, the only thing keeping his hands from shaking. Itâs not a big deal, right? RIGHT?!
Oh, God. What was he even thinking. Well, thatâs kind of the issue. He wasnât really thinking. He was already running a little late before, but now, sitting in his unmoving car, with his slack jaw, he was definitely not getting to work on time.Â
The morning had started off just like every morning had the past few weeks. Buck was still living in the Diaz household â The couch had a dent about 6â2â in length. He didnât seem to mind though, as the hunt for a new apartment had slowed down to a halt.
Eddie wasnât in any rush to kick him out, anyway. If he was being honest, it was nice to have his best friend around. They were at each otherâs houses all the time anyway, this cut down the travel time, and thatâs always a good thing when considering LA traffic. Chris liked having Buck around, too, having grown accustomed to a three-person household while living in Texas with his grandparents.
The three of them had fell into a comfortable rhythm. Carpooling to the station, cooking together (well, Buck cooks while Eddie does dishes or, more often, leans against the counter listening to Buck talk on and on about whatever was going through his mind on any given day), and doing chores that only really require one person together as a family.Â
This morning was no different than the few dozen mornings they had already spent together âget up, get dressed, have breakfast, drive to workâ except for one little thing. On their last shift, Buck had suffered a minor injury. It was nothing too bad, especially in the Grand Scheme of Buck Injuries, but it was his bad leg and he was in more pain than he cared to admit to anyone.
The doctor recommended he stay home for a little longer, and therefore miss todayâs shift. Now, Buck would have normally paid no mind to doctorâs orders, but seeing as Chris was on Summer vacation from school, he thought it would be a good time to spend a one-on-one day with him, the way they used to, especially after how much Buck had missed Chris while he was away. He thought that maybe they could spend the nice Summer day by the beach, then quickly decided against itâŚjust to be safe.Â
Now, this is when things took a turn. He was sitting at the kitchen table, shoving heaping spoons of cereal into his mouth with one hand while his other hand scrolled through his phone, looking through lists of suitable places he and Chris could visit around the city. He was pretty distracted. Between the multitasking and the way his brain was always racing, it was safe to say he wasnât completely paying attention to his surroundings. Chris was sitting across from him, eating his own bowl of cereal when Eddie emerged from the bedroom in a rush.Â
âDad, arenât you gonna eat with us?â Asked Chris when he saw the state his father was in.
âIâll just have something at the station. If I donât leave right now, Iâm gonna be late,â Spoke Eddie.Â
The whole exchange was nothing more than background noise for a distracted Buck, brow furrowed and focused on finding a place to take Chris where they could safely avoid a natural disaster.
And that's when it happened.Â
Eddie, slinging his duffel bag over one shoulder, leaned down and kissed the side of Chrisâs head saying, âLove you.â
Buck didn't move his eyes. He barely managed to mumble out a âbyeâ before he felt it. Eddieâs lips on his cheek. A soft, tender peck to the side of his face, before rushing out the door and shutting it loudly behind him. Buck was still for a second, unsure if what had happened had even really happened. He was pretty sure it did. The way his face felt boiling basically confirmed it. He looked up over his phone at Chris, raising his eyes without moving his head. Chris seemed to be too busy scrolling on his own phone (Buck makes a mental note to stop using his phone at the table to be a better influence), to notice whatever had happened.Â
Buck got up quickly, pushing the chair behind him with a loud sound which made Chris finally pay attention. He grabbed the dishes and discarded them into the sink haphazardly.
âOkay, come on, get your shoes on. Weâre going to the Observatory,â He said, finally deciding on a location.Â
âObservatory?â Asked Chris, tilting his head.Â
âItâs either that or the zoo,â Said Buck, with his hands on his hips.Â
Chris nodded, âObservatory it is,â he sighed. As much as he enjoyed going to the zoo with Buck, it was high time they found another spot to go to besides the zoo.Â
Buck turned towards the sink, holding onto the edges and breathed in deeply. What the hell had just happened? Surely, it was nothing, right? RIGHT?!
And surely the undeniable fact that his heart fluttered when Eddieâs lips touched his skin was also nothing, right? The way his face was still flushed, the imprint of those lips branded into his cheek, all of it was justâŚnothing. Right?!
Buck held onto the sink trying to steady his breathing. Thatâs when he heard Eddieâs car pull out of the parking spot and drive off.
What took him so long to drive away?Â
âââââââ
Eddie finally gathers the courage to start the car and drive to the firehouse. Heâs still a little bit dazed and he isnât completely sure he should be driving right now. He somehow makes it into his parking spot without a scratch, but his mind is still reeling. That was so humiliating, like accidentally calling your teacher âmommyâ in class.
Thatâs all that was bothering him âthe embarrassment. There was nothing else, no tightness in his chest. He wasnât thinking about how Buckâs skin smelled from such close proximity. He was definitely not thinking about how soft his cheek was, or how it could make someone want to kiss it all the time.Â
It was just a force of habit. He was in a rush. He hadnât even had his coffee yetâŚwell, his second coffee, but still. He was just trying to get out of the house as quickly as possible, without forgetting to kiss Chris goodbye and his brain, or his body, got a little confused. Leaned in mindlessly. It was just a little cheek kiss. Thatâs not even a big deal. Friends do that stuff. If they were in Europe they would kiss on the cheek all the time. Eddie wonders if they should take a vacation to ParisâNo. Focus!Â
Surely, Buck completely forgot all about Eddieâs little blunder by now. He probably hadnât even thought twice about it. Sure, it wasnât the norm for them but it was also just a kiss on the cheek, for crying out loud. Itâs nothing. He didnât even flinch before Eddie left the kitchen, definitely too preoccupied with his food and his phone to pay any mind to some meaningless cheek kiss.Â
Eddie keeps himself busy at the station, cleaning the truck with extra care. He spends more time than usual in the gym. He even volunteers to cook but is quickly shut down by Chim. When the alarm sounds, he actually smiles. Heâs never been so happy to get a call. Heâs almost tempted to say the Q word, just to make sure he didnât have to sit with his thoughts for even a second. What is he even talking about? He doesnât believe in that superstitious nonsense. Buckâs ridiculous ideas had started to rub off on him. Either way, he wants nothing more than to be made busy, and keep his mind off whatever was going on in that head of his.Â
He isnât sure exactly what it is. Honestly, heâs scared that if he thinks too hard about it, heâll end up having another panic attack, and winding up in the ER and having to answer Buckâs relentless questions about why he had been panicking seems nightmarish.Â
He keeps his phone tucked away in his pocket all through the shift, just in case Chris needed something or there was an actual emergency, but never once does he send a text to check in on Buck. Heâs not sure what heâs supposed to do. The two of them are usually together on shift so he doesnât need to text him. When theyâre offâŚtheyâre usually also together. He decides against texting Buck, but does text Chris just to make sure they were doing alright.Â
âHowâs Buck?â Asks Hen, seeing Eddieâs phone in his hands.Â
âHuh?â He answers, caught off guard.Â
âBuck? His leg? Heâs still living with you, isnât he?â She raises an eyebrow.Â
âUh, yeah. Yeah, heâs okay. Heâs taking ChrisâŚsomewhere. His leg is fine, heâll be back next shift.âÂ
Hen just nods, but the look on her face says more than words ever could.Â
ââââââ
Buck and Chris are in a dark auditorium watching images of stars and planets swooshing above them. They both look up in awe; it's like Buck is an expanded mirror image of Chris. Buck tries to focus on the voice that booms out from the speaker describing what they are looking at, but when he sees the sparkling stars against the dark backdrop, all he can think about is how Eddieâs eye sparkle just like that sometimesâJesus, Buck, get a grip.Â
It had been a couple hours since breakfast. Why on Earth was he still dwelling on nothing. A kiss on the cheek? Thatâs all it takes to derail his life? The guy who survived a tsunami, and a lightning strike, and regularly runs into burning buildings, brought to his knees by one simple touch of soft lips to his cheek?Â
When he and Chris return to the house, Buck begins cooking for the two of them. He makes the one thing he knows he wonât fuck up âlasagna, using Bobbyâs recipe. Chris still seems oblivious to Buckâs agitation, which is probably a good thing, since Buck doesnât even know where he would begin if Chris asked him what was wrong.Â
The two of them eat in relative silence, this time with both their phones in their pockets, too busy stuffing way-too-hot bites of pasta into their mouths then huffing to try and cool it down to chat. That is until Chris decides to speak up.Â
âAre you and my dadâŚlike a thing?â He asks casually. So much for being oblivious.Â
âUhâŚa thing? What does that mean? I mean, no. WeâreâŚthereâs nothing. Itâs nothing. What makes you say that, Chris?â Bumbles Buck, almost choking on his food.Â
Chris shrugs, âHe kissed you goodbye this morning. And, well, thereâs also the fact that you live here...âÂ
âDo you want me to move out, Chris? Is that what this is about? âCause I donât want to make you uncomfortable, I can find somewhere elsââ
âNo, Buck. You donât have to move out,â Chris giggles, âIâm just trying to sayâŚif youârekeeping it a secret because of me, I donât mind.â
âYou donât?âÂ
Chris shakes his head, âDad seems happy when youâre around. Like, actually happy.âÂ
Buckâs gaze softens and his eyes light up at the concept of his presence making anyone happy, let alone Eddie. Then he quickly shakes the thought out of his head.
âButâŚNo, thereâs nothing going on,â He clarifies.Â
Chris shrugs, âwell, you should still stay. You still make him happy.â
âDo you think he kissed my cheek on purpose?â Buck asks after a moment.Â
âDefinitely not,â Says Christopher, chuckling, which makes Buck smile. âHeâs probably going insane as we speak.âÂ
Buck raises an eyebrow.Â
âOh, come on, Buck. You know no one panics like my dad. He doesnât know it, but we both do.â
âYeah, I guess maybe he might be embarrassed,â Offers Buck.Â
âEmbarrassed? Well, definitely, but heâs probably freaking out about making things weird between you two. He does that a lot, you know? He freaks out every time something doesnât go perfectly because heâs scared youâll move out.âÂ
âEddieâs scaredâŚthat Iâll move out?â Buck asks, his jaw hanging slightly.Â
âWell, yeah. He doesnât know how long youâre actually willing to sleep on a couch so he tries to make everything else perfect to keep you here.â Buck looks down, processing what Chris said. âI told you, Buck. You being here, it makes him happy.âÂ
âââââ
At night, Buckâs tossing and turning on the couch. He wasnât sure whether sleeping in Eddieâs bed was okay, since Eddie was at work, but with everything else that was going on, he decided to just stick to his usual spot in the living room.
His mind races, as it always does, but this time he can hear several conversations heâd had over the past couple of months. Two of them in particular. The infuriating argument heâd had right there in the next room with Tommy, and the frustrating conversation he had had with Maddie in her kitchen. Both of them equally confusing to Buck at the time.
Sure, he loved Eddie. Everyone loves Eddie. That doesnât mean heâs in love with Eddie. He didnât want to sleep with his best friend. Thatâs what he said to Maddie, and he meant it. At least he thinks he did. He did, right? Right?!Â
Except now, here he was, trying to fall asleep on the couch where heâd fallen asleep countless times before, thinking about how his best friendâs lips felt on his face. He wondered how they would feel on his own lips. Other placesâNope! No, not that. Definitely not that.Â
He gets up to get a glass of water to cool off. His eyes are automatically drawn to the chair at the table where he was sitting in the morning, at breakfast. He couldnât help but recreate the moment in his imagination. The scene was so domestic. Even without the cheek kiss, it was like they were characters in a sitcom. A happy little family. And they had been for weeks now.
Domestic.
Happy.
A family.Â
Was it really that crazy? Thatâs also directly from the conversation with Maddie. Clearly, she didnât think so. Maybe Buck didnât either. He is so beyond sleep, now. What is he doing? Obviously, itâs not crazy to think Buck has feelings for Eddie. Far from it. It was actually a fact.
He had practically admitted so to Tommy, right here in this very kitchen. He told him how he didnât have to want to sleep with everyone he had feelings for. And that was true. He doesnât have to want it. But he does. Oh, how he does.
He doesnât even mean that in a euphemistic sense. He wants to sleep right next to Eddie all night, and not just because the couch is doing numbers on his back. He wants to wake up with Eddieâs face next to his, or better yet, buried in his chest. He wants a cheek kiss every single morning. He doesnât want to speculate anymore on what Eddieâs lips might feel like on Buckâs lips â he wants to know.Â
He has half a mind to put on a hoodie and jog all the way to the fire station. No, thatâs ridiculous. He would just drive. RightâŚright.Â
Buck steadies himself against the fridge, taking a breath. He canât go to the fire house. For one, it's the middle of the night. He doesn't exactly want to leave Chris alone. He also doesn't want to run up to Eddie and kiss him for the first time in front of all their friends and coworkers; he isn't even sure Eddie would want to kiss him. Heâd rather not get rejected in front of everyone he knows, thank you very much.
But there is also a much deeper reason. Buck chases and clings. Itâs what he does. What he's always done. He canât do it this time. Not when itâs this important. Not when itâs Eddie. He doesnât want to ruin this. He wants to give him time. To not let his own baggage and flaws infiltrate this, at least not if he can help it.
He canât run impulsively into the firehouse, in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, to kiss Eddie. He knows how every big swing and gesture just ended up blowing up in his face in the past. It was time he faced it. Heâs mature Buck 3.0âŚor is it 4.0? Might be 5.0 by now.Â
He forces himself back onto the couch and, although heâs made peace with the fact that he wonât be getting much sleep tonight, he resigns himself to staying in.
Eddie will come home. He will be there and heâll see Buck there, and, if Buck is to trust Chris, which he definitely does, Eddie will be happy because Buck is there. Buck doesnât have to run. He doesnât have to cling or beg. He just has to wait and trust.
This time, he knows Eddie will not leave him like everyone else seems to. He just knows it. Even if he doesnât feel the same, Buck knows he wonât lose Eddie. And with that, his eyes actually flutter closed and he drifts off on the couch.Â
ââââââ
Itâs almost 09:00, which means shift is almost over. Eddie looks around him, feeling the walls closing in. He had spent the last 24 hours preoccupied about Buck.
The kiss was just the tip of the iceberg. It blew open the pandoraâs box that is Eddieâs heart. No amount of swings to the punching bag could change the fact that Eddie was in love with his best friend â trust him, he tried.
The clock keeps ticking and A-shift is dismissed, but Eddieâs feet remain planted into the linoleum. Maybe he should run back up the stairs and stay for a second shift.
That seems like a good idea, right? He can avoid home. Avoid Buck. Why did that seem like a significantly less good idea, now? Like the thought of avoiding Buck gave Eddie a stomach ache.
He chuckles dryly. Eddie is so confused and overwhelmed about the kiss and his feelings and everything else that he desperately needs to talk to his best friend about. The irony isn't lost on him.Â
He finally drags his heavy legs out of the station and into the car. Once again, he is frozen behind the wheel. Arms at ten-and-two, with the engine off. He breathes deeply, trying to steady himself. What is he so afraid of? Itâs just Buck.Â
Itâs just Buck.Â
Would this change everything? Would it mark the end of their friendship? Their bond? Their professional partnership? Eddie felt his heart speed up.
He had the overwhelming instinct to run. To drive somewhere far and never look back. He could just go anywhere. Anywhere but his house. He would send for Chris later. Okay, thatâs a little too far, Eddie. Even for you.Â
Running came second nature to Eddie. When things got tough with Shannon, he ran off to the army. When stuff with his family was complicated, he ran to LA from El Paso. With every woman who entered his life, he found every excuse to be away from them, ironically, usually running to Buck.Â
This time, he just has to face it. He canât run any longer. He has repressed this part of himself for long enough; the part of him that looks at Buck with something other than friendship in his eyes. He isnât sure what to call it. If he was gay or bi or something else entirely. But, regardless, he is a man in love. A man in love with Buck.
The drive home is anything but pleasant. Eddieâs hands are so clammy that heâs struggling to grip the steering wheel, but he makes it home. What would Buck say? What would Eddie say? God, he really should have rehearsed this, or at least planned some talking points. What do you even say in that situation? âHey, remember when I kissed your cheek yesterday morning? I think weâre soulmatesâ â That didnât sound right at all.
He would be lying if he said the thought of driving right past the house didnât go through his mind. But here he is, parked in front of the house. Trying to figure out what it is he wants to say. Practicing his poker face for if when Buck says heâs flattered but not interested.Â
âââââââ
Buck lets Chris sleep in. He gets up off the couch after a surprisingly good sleep, and just sits there waiting for the clock to tick and bring Eddie home. It takes longer than anticipated. Itâs a while after the end of shift and Buck is almost worried that the trust he had that Eddie would always return to him was misplaced.
Then, he hears the familiar sound of the engine of Eddieâs car pull into the spot. Buck braces himself for what is about to happen. Potentially the most important moment of his life. Or the most humiliating. Time will tell.Â
Then, he keeps bracing because nothing happens.
No one walks through the door. Buck is sure the car he heard was Eddieâs. What is taking him so long, again? Had Eddie forgotten how to drive? How to walk? Was he suffering from a brain injury? That would explain the accidental cheek kiss. Oh, how could Buck get this so wrong. Obviously Eddie was suffering some kind of head trauma which was impairing his functions andâ The key turns in the lock.Â
Buck stares at the doorknob with bated breath. He stands up. Heâs not sure why but now heâs committed himself to the choice so he just stays standing, eyes focused on the doorway.Â
ââââ-
Eddie walks through the door, finding Buck standing in the middle of the entryway. All the practiced lines heâd decided on in the car are forgotten.
Similarly, Buckâs racing mind finally stills. His anxiety somehow dissipates, leaving onlyâŚlove? Buckâs eyes crinkle into a grin and his dimple makes an appearance. The sight makes Eddie weak in the knees. Neither of them says a word âWhat do you even say when youâre falling in love in real time?âBut they both know. Â
Eddie takes a step forward and Buckâs hand finds refuge on Eddieâs cheek, tilting the shorter manâs head just slightly up towards himself. Buck watches as Eddieâs eyes sparkle, just like the stars from the observatory, no, prettier somehow. More mesmerising. Buck could stare into those big brown eyes forever.Â
Buck leans in slowly, and Eddie relaxes under his touch, letting himself be guided by the hand thatâs on his face. And then, it finally happens. Eddieâs lips are on Buckâs. Now he knows. And because he knows what it feels like to have Eddieâs lips on his, Buck also knows that he wants this every morning. And night.Â
Buckâs tongue runs over Eddieâs bottom lip, and he is immediately granted access into Eddieâs mouth, exploring it with a hunger that translates to Eddie. The kiss deepens. Now, Eddieâs fingers are tangled in Buckâs soft curls and his free arm is wrapped around Buckâs impossibly muscular frame.
Buck kisses him with intensity. More intensity than heâs used to. More than either of them are used to, really, but itâs been a long time coming. They can taste the otherâs desperation. They stumble and now Buck is pinned up against the wall, welcoming Eddieâs touch in any way he sees fit to provide it.Â
Then, they hear the sound of someone clearing their throat. They immediately turn to look, both with wide eyes like deer (or bucks?) caught in headlights, to find Chris snickering at them.Â
âNothing, huh? Thereâs nothing going on? That's what you said, right?,â He teases them, but thereâs a big smile on his face and heâs just happy theyâve finally figured it out.
At least, he hopes they have. Itâs kind of exhausting watching them pine for each other like idiots in denial for so, so long.Â
ââââââââââââââââ-
Pushing It Down and Praying (One-Shot)
A\N: Posted this one on AO3 a while ago, too. It's not x Reader like i usually write, it's Buddie! It's set during 8x11, when Buck hooks up with Tommy. Title is from a Lizzy McAlpine song. I'd recommend you listen to it before reading (mostly bc it's a great song). Enjoy :)
NSFW (18+) | One-Shot | Evan Buckley x Eddie Diaz | (Tommy is in this but Buddie is endgame)
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Read on AO3
Buckâs eyes are squeezed shut. Heâs trying to focus solely on the pleasure thatâs building in the pit of his stomach. He doesnât want to think about it. Anything.
He really doesnât want to think about how everything in his life seems to be going to shit. And now, here he is, having sex with someone he doesnât have feelings for. Maybe he did? He must have at some point. He wasnât sure now. He wasnât sure of anything anymore. Itâs like he looked right at the sun so now his vision was spotty, and suddenly he couldnât look at anything anymore without seeing the white burnt rings in his retina. Not the literal sun, of course, but the way those brown eyes could melt Buck, he may as well be.
His focus is interrupted when two fingers lightly tap his cheek and heâs forced to open his eyes. He almost feels guilty at the pang of disappointment when the eyes heâs looking into arenât the ones he was hoping for. Just icy blue ones. He feels like an idiot. Itâs not like he was surprised. He knew who he was in bed with. He knew who heâd taken home from the bar. He also knew who he was drinking to forget at said bar. The guilt meshed with self hatred and pushed his arousal out of the way. The man hovering over him seemed not to notice â or if he did, he didnât care. He kept thrusting himself into Buck at a relentless pace.
Buck didnât mind. In fact, these days he welcomed pain wherever it came from. He pushed himself to his breaking point at the gym. He was reckless on calls. And now, here he was, splayed out under the last person who had broken his heart. Between the self-inflicted pain and the meaningless sex, he almost felt like his teenage self again, including the constant looming fear that everyone would leave him eventually. Thatâs what happens when you have abandonment issues, he thought. Except now it wasnât so much a fear as much as it was something that had already happened.
He knew in the logical part of his brain that Eddie didnât leave him because he didnât care. He would never want to keep him from Christopher. But the other part of him, the part that still held on to the pain of his parentsâ indifference towards him, of his sister leaving and then giving him the Jeep and sending him off alone; that part of him felt the same way watching that moving truck drive away as he had so many other times when his heart was broken by those he loved most.
Buck lets his eyes close again as his head falls back onto the mattress. If he tries hard enough, he can pretend the grunts and heavy breathing above him are falling out of Eddieâs mouth. He could pretend that the hips driving into him were Eddieâs too â he didnât need to try hard at all for that one. Heâd pictured it many times before, though usually, he was alone in his bed. And all those times before, the bed would be in Buckâs loft and not in Eddieâs bedroom. The first time it happened â Eddieâs strong hands making an appearance in his fantasies, replacing Buckâs own hands, he tried to brush it off. It felt wrong to think about his best friend like that, but with every sweaty session, the guilt wore off and now Buck wasnât sure he could cum anymore if Eddie didnât make an appearance in his mindâs eye. He hadnât tried really. It had become involuntary.
Tommyâs lips attach themselves to Buckâs neck, drawing a soft gasp out of his pink lips. He cursed at himself internally, only being able to think 'I wish those were Eddieâs lips on my neck' instead of just enjoying the feeling of being loved, no matter how fleeting or fabricated. He wasnât sure if Tommy loved him or not. Probably not since heâd broken up with him. But still, a soft kiss was like a bandaid for the abandonment issues. Usually, it would have made him feel better for a little while. Not this time. This time all he felt was dread.
Buck wasnât sure when he developed feelings for Eddie. It seemed to have crept up on him over the years, and by the time he realised that it was happening, he was already drowning in it. Buck didnât even know he was into guys until a few months ago, but he was definitely already into Eddie by then. He just couldnât see it yet. It never crossed his mind before. Not during any of their late night conversations, not during all the meals shared with Chris like they were a real family, not when the two of them were patching up the drywall in this very apartment, not when Buck was clawing at the earth to bring Eddie back, not when he was putting pressure on Eddie's bullet wound still covered in the blood splatter, not with every simple brush of their shoulders as they walked side by side. Now, the memories played through Buckâs mind like paintings on a carousel.
He hoped no one would bring it up so it could stay buried in the depths of his psyche, but it seemed everyone around them was catching on. It was more obvious now that Eddie was gone. All the sulking. The way he couldnât go more than five minutes at a time without bringing Eddie up in conversation. Buck thought he was acting pathetic. It was worse because it served to prove that he was the one this was actually bothering. He was the one with these Big Feelings he didnât know how to deal with. Eddie wasnât even gay, let alone reciprocative of Buckâs feelings. The thought of it alone made Buckâs heart sink. Eddie was 800 miles away in Texas, perfectly happy with Chris and the rest of their family, real family. Blood. And here he was. Just an ex-coworker / sometimes-babysitter. Is that really all he was to Eddie and Chris?
The last thing Buck wanted was to cry right now, with another man inside him. He wanted so badly for the feelings burning within him to dissipate. It was hard enough having his closest friend move to another state without the added fact that he was deeply in love with him. God, was it love? He didnât know what else to call it if not. Meanwhile, Tommy was present. Right there on top of him. Buck hoped he would turn him over soon so heâd have a better excuse not to look at him. So he could just bury his face in the sheets and cum without Tommy seeing him or the pained look in his eyes. Buck often looked like a kicked puppy and he had learned by now that Tommy wasnât a fan of it.
Buckâs mind continued to race, while Tommyâs hips continued to thrust in and out of him, the movement starting to lose meaning, like when you repeat a word so many times it starts sounding made up. Tommy was giving him everything he had but Buck couldnât understand why he was even trying. He didnât care. He couldnât bring himself to care about anything. He wanted to disappear. To break down into a million little pieces and get blown away with the wind.
He was in an impossible situation. Eddie was so far away, not just geographically. Eddie didnât want him. Couldnât want him. Would never want him, not even if he wanted to. He was straight, Buck was painfully aware of it.
Buck looked up at the ceiling, wondering how many times Eddie had stared up at the same ceiling unable to fall asleep. It was like living in a haunted house, except the ghost was Buck. He could retrace the steps of every interaction heâd ever had with Eddie or Chris in this house. Except now, heâd have to play all the parts himself. They may return, or they might not. Either way, it wonât be for him. Eddie did a good job at reminding him that this was his biggest flaw; how he made everything about himself. He couldnât help it. He never felt like he was important to anyone. He thought so little of himself that it accidentally went all the way back to self-centredness. At the end of the day he just wanted so badly to feel like Eddie needed him. Wanted him.
Tommy growled and his hips started moving erratically, letting Buck know he was close. His hand grabbed Buckâs chin, once again locking eyes with him. Buck decided to try and finish, at the very least to not seem inadequate. It wasnât too hard to get himself there, anyway. All he had to do was imagine Eddie in place of Tommy. Brown eyes in place of blue ones. The wispy piece of hair that liked to fall forwards onto Eddie forehead. Buttery-soft tan skin. It was dark enough in the room for Buckâs mind to play tricks, superimposing the images over Tommyâs face and body. He didnât feel guilty anymore. It didnât matter, anyway.
Even the imagined reality of having Eddie served to momentarily rid Buck of any negative emotions â emphasis on momentarily. So, finally, Buck finished, and so did Tommy, and Buck felt empty again but he let himself believe that the arms that wrapped around him from behind belonged to none other than his Eddie. He was in his bedroom for Godâs sake.
His brain couldnât stop dreaming up the fantasy if it wanted to. He was in the Diaz home, and Eddie was spooning him, and Chris was asleep in the next room or maybe down the street at a sleepover. Either way, still in LA. In the morning theyâd all have breakfast together. Things would be normal. No, not normal, better than normal, because Eddie would know how Buck feels and he wouldnât throw him out. No, he would say he felt the same. He always had. He wants Buck just as much as Buck wants him. He would never leave him again. Chris would never leave again. Theyâd always have each other. Theyâd be a real family.
And so Buck drifted off to sleep, desperately trying to picture it as clearly as he could so he might dream of it all night.
We're Not Together (One-Shot)
A/N: As I said, gonna post some stuff that I had already uploaded to AO3 for those who prefer reading on tumblr. Enjoy :)
NSFW (18+) MDNI | One-Shot | Evan Buckley x Reader
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Read on AO3
You get off the FaceTime call with your parents, your heart sinking. For some reason, you didnât think that they would ever actually come to LA to visit you, but it turns out they have plane tickets booked for your birthday in three days. A bead of sweat forms on your forehead when you hear your roommate, Buck, coming in through the front door. You wipe it off before plastering a smile on your face and going to the living room to greet him.
âHey, Buck! You look like you could use a drink. What would you like? Iâll make you something,â you ask cheerfully. He raises an eyebrow, clearly confused by your uncharacteristically warm welcome.
âUh,âŚIâll just have a beer if youâre offering. Thank you?â He answers, wary of what is going on.
You hand him a cold can of beer, plopping down on the couch next to him. âWhat do you want?â He asks, clearly onto you. You try to play it off as just you being nice but heâs not buying it.
âFine, I need your help.â
This earns a small grin. He is clearly curious about what it is you need help with.
âOkay, some back story. When I moved to LA it was with my ex, Steve. You never met him. He broke up with me almost immediately after we moved out here. Thatâs how I ended up living in this apartment with you. Anyway, my parents were really worried and upset that I was alone in a big, new city. They watch too much true crime and apparently only awful things happen in LA to girls who live alone. Anyway, they were complaining a lot and threatening to come to LA and force me to move back home, but then I moved in with you and I told them not to worry because I was living with a big, strong firefighter so no one was going to break into my place in the middle of the night and murder me. And, you see, I thought this was a great way to shut them down, but instead they started going off about me living with a guy and how improper that is or whatever. So, âŚ,â You chuckle shyly, âThis is where things get a littleâŚweird.â
âWeird?â
âYeah, so, Iâm not saying it was a good idea, but, it was the first thing that came to mind and it seemed to work, until now.â
âWait, what worked? What are you talking about?â He asks. âOkay, in an attempt to shut them up I told them that the guy I live with, well you, is my boyfriend.â
His eyebrow shot up, but he didnât seem upset, just amused at your idiocy. âAnd that worked?â
âSomehow. I convinced them that it was a really serious relationship, which somehow made them get off my back about how terrible it is for a woman to live with a guy. It makes no sense to me either. Anyway, itâs been working great. Until now, because, in three days, My parents are coming to LA to visit,â You smile trying to soften the blow.
âAndâŚ?â
âAnd they might be staying here because they think that the second bedroom is a guest room since they think weâre, you know, together.â
He stays silent for a moment, then opens his mouth again, âNow it makes more sense why you ask me to take selfies with you after your mom calls.â
I rub the back of my neck, âYeah, when she starts getting suspicious about why we donât have pictures together on âthe Facebookâ I send her one of those to reassure her that we are still going strong.â
He chuckles at your predicament, âSo, your folks will stay here for a couple days. Thatâs fine. Iâm sure weâll make it work.â
âSo youâre fine with this? Itâs not a big deal?â
âNo, of course not. Iâll be at work all day for the first day anyway. But, honestly, Iâm sure it will be fine.â
âNo, Buck, you realise that we have toâŚkeep up appearances while theyâre here right?â
He shakes his head with a soft laugh, âYeah, Iâm sure we can hold hands or something and make it convincing. Donât worry about it, Iâve been accused of being a flirt since forever, at least Iâll get to use it to my advantage â or, your advantage I guess.â
The next couple of days fly by. You cleaned your room, setting it up as the guest bedroom for your parents, and moved your stuff to Buckâs room. When it was time, you drove to the airport to pick them up. The first thing your parents ask you during the drive was how come your boyfriend was not there. You explain that he has a long shift at the firehouse and would not be home until the next morning, which leaves your mother with a sour look on her face. She was looking forward to meeting the guy after hearing so much about him. And this part was true. You were always telling her about Buck, mostly to keep up the lie, but really because you kind of enjoyed talking to her about him. She seemed genuinely happy for you. You hoped that bubble wouldnât be burst during the next three days.
You make a reservation for four at Gianlucaâs for your birthday dinner under Buckâs name, the Italian restaurant you lied to your mother about Buck taking you to on date nights. You make sure to shoot him a text telling him that he was surprising you with dinner at your favourite place, keeping him updated on the web of lies you were weaving.
The first day runs smoothly. After all, youâre alone with your parents. The charades havenât begun yet. That night, you bid goodnight to your parents, then retire to Buckâs room for the night, sleeping in the empty bed.
Early in the morning you were woken up by the sound of the front door closing quietly, followed by footsteps trailing to the door. Buck entered the dark room. You were barely awake but you could make out his silhouette undressing down to his boxer shorts and getting in bed. When he felt you there he gasped and cursed under his breath. âOh, Jesus, I forgot about this,â He whispered, grabbing his pillow and a blanket.
âWhere are you going?â
âNowhere, Iâm gonna sleep on the floor.â
âCome on, thatâs ridiculous. You just got off work,â You scoot over in the bed, âweâre adults right?â
He gets into bed next to you, his breathing soon letting you know that he was sound asleep, and you manage to get a few more hours of shuteye before waking up to the dapples of light coming through the blinds. You open your eyes, realising Buck isnât next to you. You go out into the kitchen and see him with his apron on, and your parents sat at the kitchen table.
âMorning, sleepy head,â He says, coming up to you and kissing your cheek, âHappy birthday!â Youâre caught off guard for a moment but then just play along. Heâs making pancakes for all of you, heart-shaped for the birthday girl, and its clear that you had interrupted your motherâs riveting retelling of a story from your childhood. The four of you have breakfast together, and Buck plays along perfectly. You present your planned itinerary to your parents, suggesting the three of you visit the zoo. Your mother asks why Buck will not be joining you and you begin to form an excuse before he cuts you off.
âOh, no, honey. Didnât I tell you? That fell through, Iâm coming with you.â You shoot him a weird look but he ignores it. âYeah, I take Chris there all the time, so I can give you a great tour, complete with facts on all the animals.â Your mother nods enthusiastically, like she already knows all about who Chris is, and you wonder just how long they had been talking before you got out of bed.
Buck drove you all to the zoo. He insisted on it. He was walking you through each exhibit, spouting off facts about the animals, just as he had promised. He was being the perfect gentleman, and you could tell that your mother was enjoying the show. He took your hand somewhere around the meerkats and hasnât let it go since.
The four of you take a photo in front of the flamingos, smiling like one big happy family. Thatâs when you begin to get a sick feeling in your stomach, feeling guilty for lying to your parents. It was one thing to fib over the phone but putting this much effort into keeping this up seemed a step too far. But you were in too deep, saying something now would be weirder. Youâre not sure when you became a dishonest person â you used to tell your mom everything, but one small lie, which seemed insignificant at the time, was now becoming a full-on theatrical production. At least Buck didnât seem to mind playing along. In another life he could have been an actor.
His arm is draped around your shoulder as he talks to your mom about the time he lived with an alpaca in Peru and you wonder whether heâs making it up or if he actually did live in Peru and you just didnât know about it. You still feel uneasy, your mind wrought with thoughts about how youâre acting like a bad daughter and a bad friend, mixed with the cotton candy Buck bought for you, making your stomach turn. He instantly picks up on it and sits you down on a bench, feeling your forehead with the back of his hand.
âWhatâs wrong, darling?â He asks, his voice riddled with concern.
âIâm fine, Itâs just the heat I think. Keep walking, Iâll find you in a minute.â
He rummages in his bag for a bottle of cold water and opens it before handing it to you, âHere, this should help you feel better.â He tells your parents to keep going and that you two would join them later on, staying by your side. Your parents walk on but he doesnât stop rubbing your back when they do.
âYou can stop doing that, they canât see us,â You groan. He reluctantly takes his hand off you but still sits close. âYouâre a little too good at this.â
âYou sound like youâre complaining. Isnât that what you wanted.â
âI didnât want any of this!â You snap. Heâs taken aback but he says nothing. âIâm sorry, I didnât mean to raise my voice. I just feel awful for lying. I should have just said something before. I could have just told them it was a lie. âIâve been in LA for over a year and I havenât been kidnapped and also my roommate isnât a pervâ would have sufficed. Instead Iâve roped you into this mess.â
âI mean itâs not the best idea youâve ever had, but itâs not a huge deal. Letâs just have a good time today. Itâs your birthday. Then, tomorrow, maybe you can tell them that weâre really just friends,â He said, reassuring you. He grabs your hand again as the two of you catch up to your parents.
That same evening, youâre in Buckâs room, getting ready to go out to dinner. He got ready early, letting you have the room to yourself while you got dressed. You wore an elegant, form-fitting dress, with dainty jewellery to go with it. You kept things simple with your hair and makeup, save for a little bit of glitter on your eyelids. It was your birthday after all. You finished off the look with a pair of heels, and exited the room into the living room. Buck was on the couch, and his head turned when he heard the door open out of reflex. His eyes widened, taking you in, and you felt your cheeks heat up.
âIs it too much?â You ask shyly.
He shakes his head, âNot at all. You lookâŚyou look great.â He gets off the couch, grabbing the bouquet that was on the coffee table, handing it to you.
âBuck, you really didnât have to get me anything.â
He just shrugs as you look for a vase to place the flowers into. Theyâre stargazer Lillies âyour favourite. You wonder how he could have possibly known that or if it was just a good guess, but either way it warmed your heart.
Your parents come out into the living room, ready to go. They admire the flowers, and your mom coos at Buck, going on about what a gentleman he is. Once again, he insists on driving to the restaurant. When you get to Gianlucaâs, he gives the keys to the valet, then rushes around to your side, opening the door for you and helping you out of the Jeep.
You walk in and the host leads you to your table. You have a surprisingly good time, considering the circumstances. There are no awkward moments or weird tension in the air. It seems like your mother loves Buck, and Buck is doing a good job of acting like he loves you. Even your father, whoâs usually the protective type, seems to approve of your relationship. The waiters bring out a slice of cake with a candle in it, and the people around your table clap. You could die of embarrassment but Buckâs arm around you is grounding and reassuring.
âOh, go ahead, kiss her! Donât be shy,â Says your mother encouragingly. He doesnât hesitate, pulling you in for a kiss. Itâs over in the blink of an eye but his soft lips on yours felt electric, leaving a trace long after the kiss was broken.
Your parents insist on paying for the meal, wanting to show their appreciation for the two of you hosting them during their trip as well as to treat you on your birthday.
You are exhausted when you get back home. It had been a long day of walking around in the sun, and, although you had a great time, calculating every word to keep up your lie was tiring. You got ready for bed, putting on a pair of silk pyjama shorts with a matching tank and got into bed. Buck emerges a few minutes later, wearing nothing but a pair of sleep shorts. He catches you looking at him with a surprised look on your face. âWhat?â
âNothing. I just didnât realise you slept like that every night. I thought last night you were just too tired to get dressed after work,â You explained.
âOh, sorry. I can put on something else if youâd be more comfortable.â
âNo, donât worry about it. Iâm not uncomfortable,â You assured him.
He got into bed next to you and you turned off the lamp. âGoodnight, Buck,â you whispered.
âGoodnight, birthday girl.â
You open your eyes, feeling a hand on your arm shaking you gently. When you wake up properly, you realise that you are latched on to Buck, your arms grabbing onto his shoulders and your leg draped across his hips.
You blush, apologising. âItâs fine, really,â he reassures, as you push yourself off him. His breath hitches when you move your thigh off him but you pretend you didnât hear anything, turning your body away from him and trying to go back to sleep.
When you wake up again the blinds are slightly illuminated. Youâre still with your back towards Buck but your bodies are now pressed up against each other, with one of his big arms strewn across your body in sleep. The feeling of his bulging shorts on your ass cheek is unmistakable. Your face gets hot and you try to shimmy away, but his grip on you tightens as he mumbles something incoherent. Eventually you manage to slip out of his grip, and scurry out of the room, turning on the coffee pot.
You pour yourself a cup and a few minutes later, Buck emerges. His hair is messy and you canât help but think that he looks pretty cute. Heâs put on a T shirt which just about covers his hips, not wanting to run into your parents shirtless and sporting a hard-on. He pushes past you to get a cup of coffee, his hand resting on your arm for less than a second, but it makes you feel some kind of way. You shake the thought from your head. Clearly, the pretending has confused your nervous system. He sits next to you and both of you drink in silence. When he hears the door open to your parentsâ bedroom, he automatically places his arm around you, making the hair on your neck stand up. âYou donât have toâŚIâm gonna come clean, remember?â You whisper to him.
He looks a little confused then reluctantly lowers his arm, and you canât help but feel the absence of his touch.
Your dad comes out of the room looking a little bit worried. He explains that your mom has a migraine, something she often struggles with. You find some painkillers and take them to her, making sure sheâs doing alright, helping to blackout the room so she can rest. You decide to head to CVS to get her a cold mask which usually help her to feel better. Your dad stays behind but Buck obviously tags along. He drives while you sit in the passenger seat, and he touches your thigh reassuringly with his other hand on the wheel. His touch catches you off guard and makes your stomach flip.
âWeâre not actually a couple, Buck, you donât need to keep pretending.â
âIâm just trying to be there for you. Besides, you probably shouldnât come clean to them now, maybe wait until your mom is feeling better,â He advises.
âYeah, sure, youâre right, but, weâre alone right now. We donât have to pretend.â
âIâm not. I just wanted to remind you that Iâm here for you. Thatâs all. I didnât mean anything by it,â He protests.
âNo, yeah. I know. Iâm sorry, Iâm just a bit on edge. Iâve been a total bitch to you these last couple days.â He chuckles and shakes his head.
âHey, I get it. You wouldnât want to see me around my parents either. Trust me.â
You walk through the aisles at CVS, looking for ice masks and anything else marketed for treating migraines. Buck walks behind you silently like a shadow. You walk past the family planning section and a box of condoms falls off the shelf right in front of your feet. Buck picks it up and goes to place it back, but then hesitates and turns to you. âMaybe we should get some, you know, to really sell this thing,â he suggests.
You roll your eyes, âI told you weâre done pretending, and anyway, I donât need my parents to know about all that.â He shrugs and puts the box back.
Back in the car, you sit in silence while Buck drives. You get to the apartment, giving the stuff you bought to your mom. Your dad sits in the living room watching the game and drinking a beer. You sit with him for a while but heâs really into the game and you grow bored and a little hungry, so instead, you decide to look for Buck to see if heâs hungry too, so you can start preparing something for lunch. When you push the bedroom door open youâre met with a fully naked Buck laying in bed. You lock eyes, both of you like deer in headlights, then you shut the door quickly, trying your best to be silent. Your cheeks are definitely glowing and you try to blink away the image. A few moment later the door opens again, and he is now dressed, pulling you into the room.
âSorry, I was just, uh, I was changing, and then I got a little distractedâŚâ He begins.
âNo, no. Itâs my fault. I should have knocked,â You assure him, the red tinge on your cheeks still evident. âI was just gonna ask if youâre hungry.â
âYeah, I could eat. Iâll come help you make something. How does pasta sound?â He suggests.
You cook alongside each other in silence, apart the low volume of the game on the TV in the living room. You canât shake the image of him in bed. It had only been a second but you saw him. You sawâŚit. And your mind cannot stop thinking about what he was doing in there. Youâre not an idiot, you know what he was about to do, imagining exactly what it would look like in your head. You try hard to rid your mind of the image but the more you try the more it cements itself there. Distracted, you bump into him, apologising shyly. He can sense that something is off and he feels guilty about it. You decide to just say something, desperate to clear the air.
âItâs not a big deal. Really, I mean, itâs just a body, right? Iâve seen those before,â You begin.
He smirks, âHave you now?â
âIâm serious. It doesnât have to be weird between us just because I sawâŚthat.â
âI knowâŚI didnât think things were weird.â
âNo, yeah exactly. Weâre adults, we should be able to talk about these things without it being awkward.â
He takes this as an invitation, âI was just a littleâŚpent up,â He whispers, watching the blush creep back onto your cheek. âRelax, Iâm just enjoying watching you get this flustered. We donât have to talk about it,â He chuckles.
You nod, returning your attention to the cooking.
Later that night, youâre in Buckâs bed again, both of you asleep. At least, you were asleep, before he pulled you against him in his sleep. He was pressed against you, spooning. You almost went back to sleep when you felt his erection against your ass once again. You thought about waking him but you didnât want another awkward moment, not after that afternoon. You didnât really mind. You were both wearing shorts, anyway.
The next morning, your parentsâ trip had come to an end and it was time to drive them to the airport. You realised that you never told them the truth, deciding to just tell them you broke up over text or something later. You hug them goodbye at the glass doors and then return to the car. Buck tries to make you feel better by making a joke about you getting your rooms back and not having to share a bed or walk in on each other in compromising positions.
âYeah, finally, Iâll get to sleep without anything poking me,â You play along.
He blushes, âI mean, I wasnât lying when I said I was pent up before.â
You chuckle, âWell, you are officially relieved of your fake boyfriend duties. Thanks again, by the way. You did surprisingly well.â
âYeahâŚâ
âYeahâŚâ
Thereâs a long stretch of silence.
âIt wasnât that hard, you know,â He says, breaking the silence, âPretending to be your boyfriend.â
âI mean Iâm sure you have loads of practice,â you smile.
âNo,â he pauses, âI mean its not hard to touch you and kiss you,â he glances away from the road to look at your face, âand act like Iâm in love with you.â
âBuckâŚâ
âAre you gonna tell me you hated it?â
You shake your head, then, realising he probably canât see you clearly out of his peripheral vision, âIt was nice.â
âYeah, but now, now, I think Iâve developed a habit for it,â he tentatively places his hand on your knee, the other on the wheel.
âBuckâŚ,â you begin again, unsure of what you even want to say.
âTell me you donât feel it too,â He pleads.
âIâŚ,â You hesitate.
Youâve arrived back at the apartment now, and he pulls into a spot right in front of the building, his hand still on your knee. With the car parked, he can finally take his eyes off the road and place them on you.
He looks like a kicked puppy sometimes, and this is one of those times.
You decide to be brave, reaching over the centre console and grabbing his face with both hands, kissing him softly, the same way he had kissed you at the restaurant. His hands find your waist and he deepens the kiss, kissing you like he means it, his tongue running over your lip, engulfing you passionately.
You break the kiss, looking into those puppy eyes framed with long lashes. You canât help the smile that breaks out on your face, and seeing you smile makes him smile.
âWhat?â He asks, his dimple making an appearance.
âNothing,â you assure, âI really want to get inside,â you nod towards the apartment building door.
He jumps out of the car, opening your side and helping you out. The two of you barely make it through the door before youâre kissing again. You make out in the elevator on the way up, only breaking the kiss to unlock the front door. You pull his shirt off, eager to see his bare chest again. His large hands wander, feeling the curve of your hips.
He lifts you up with ease, setting you down on the kitchen counter and reaching his hands under your dress, all while still kissing you on the mouth. His fingers find the waistband of your panties and he pulls them down swiftly, discarding them. He uses one hand to cup your face while the other travels up your thigh, finding your core. His fingers feel around, parting your lips gently. He feels how slippery you are already, your body aching to have him, and he smirks a little into the kiss. He rubs circles on your clit making your legs shake and your back arch.
Then, he pulls your hips closer to the edge of the counter, hiking up your sundress and pushing your legs open. You gasp when his tongue lands on your clit, lapping at it relentlessly. You grab a hold of his head, rocking your hips softly against his face. He introduces his fingers, inserting one inside you while he licks your clit. Then adds another finger, curling them up and making you moan. Your noises are music to his ears and he works hard to get you to make more. His other hand is on the back of your thigh, pushing your legs open. He can feel you tremble under his touch and he relishes in the feeling. He loves that he can make you feel so good already. You feel your pleasure building to its peak, instinctively squeezing your thighs together, but his strong hands hold you spread open and he licks you through your high. You pant, trying to catch your breath and he comes back up to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his mouth.
âYouâre so goodâŚ,â You whimper. Those words are like a drug to him. His blue eyes look black, staring into your soul with a look you canât begin to describe â something between desire and adoration. He helps you down off the counter and you immediately crash into his lips, needing to kiss him again. You tug at his jeans and he helps you take them off him, your lips still attached. You spit in your hand, dipping it into his boxers and stroking him. You feel how hard he is getting while you do that and you canât help but blush at the sheer size of him while your fingers attempt to wrap around him. You had seen it when you walked in on him the day before, but you didnât appreciate just how big he was before feeling him like this. His lips latch onto your neck and he moans softly as your hand teases him.
You take your hand out of his boxers and he immediately grabs it and leads you to his room. You giggle softly at his eagerness, but you canât deny you need this just as much as he does. He undoes the zipper on the back of your dress, letting it fall to the floor. He licks his lips, admiring the sight of your naked body. You feel a little bit like prey being scrutinised by a hungry predator, but it only excites you further.
He radiates warmth as he comes to stand behind you, your bodies barely an inch apart. His fingers run up your spine with a featherlight touch that makes you shiver, before settling around the back of your neck, then slowly creeping up to your head. He runs them through your hair, massaging your scalp and making you close your eyes in pleasure, before he gently grabs the hair at the roots and tugs on it, making you crane your neck back, taking the opportunity to kiss your lips again, then trailing kisses down your neck. While kissing you, his hands undo the clasp of your bra and it slowly falls down your body onto the carpeted floor, exposing your breasts. He wastes no time, pinching your nipple between his fingers while his tongue flicked over the other one.
âI wasnât done,â you hum while he plays with your breasts. He seems confused, looking up at you without taking his mouth off your nipple. So you continue, âbefore you dragged me in here, âŚI wanted to taste you.â Now the confusion in his eyes was replaced with desire.
You reach back into his boxers, this time tugging them down all the way, once again grabbing hold of his member. The thought crosses your mind if heâll even be able to fit. You drop to your knees before him, and he throws his head back in anticipation even before your lips take hold of his tip. You run your tongue over it, suctioning your lips around his width. You try to will your body to make more saliva, then lower yourself onto him, taking him as far down your throat as you can, ignoring your gag reflexâs protests. When you finally have to come up for air, there are strands of spit connecting your tongue to him, making both your chin and his cock glisten. You take him back into your mouth, bobbing up and down while his hand holds your hair in a makeshift ponytail, fighting his urges to guide you deeper.
After several minutes of your mouth taking him beautifully, he canât take it anymore, and pulls you back up on your feet, immediately capturing your lips in a hungry kiss.
âI need you,â He whispers into your mouth and pushes you gently onto the mattress, âcan I?â
You nod and almost whimper as you say, âplease.â
In seconds he is hovering over you, pushing his hips against yours and calling you beautiful while he kisses your neck and chest. He turns you over onto your stomach, kissing the back of your neck and down your spine, the continued stream of compliments leaving his lips.
One of his hands grabs hold of your hip, his thumb tracing circles over your butt cheek, spreading you open for him. You gasp as you feel the tip of his cock grazing your glistening lips. He whispers into your ear, âIs this okay? Can I take you like this, beautiful girl?â
You shudder, the gentleness of his words contrasting with the tight grip of his hand. âYes, Buck, please,â You answer, almost mad at yourself for how needy you sound.
The head of his cock pushes past your folds and into your opening, slowly sliding into you with ease due to the ample wetness he made your body produce, despite the fact that he was much larger than anything you were used to. Your legs go weak as he buries himself into you fully, reaching even the deepest spots which make your eyes roll back. Due to the position he has you in, each long and deep thrust also stimulates your clit which rubs on the bedsheets. He starts off slow, careful not to cause you any pain or discomfort, but it becomes pretty clear to the both of you that all he is making you feel is pleasure. He lets himself thrust a little faster, keeping a steady rhythm, and you can hear the loud sloshing your bodies make with every thrust. You would be embarrassed, but it feels too good for you to care. Buck is also clearly in ecstasy. Your body envelopes him so well, taking him like itâs what you were made for. You are warm and wet and perfect. He continues to whisper praise into your ear but you can barely make out a word, too lost in the intensity of the pleasure you are feeling. He pulls out of you, and for a second youâre confused, and you begin to ask, âwhy?â until he expertly flips you over onto your back, sliding right back into you. The position provides a new angle, hitting different spots.
âWant to look into your eyes. Want to see your face when you cum,â he explains between ragged breaths, the words themselves sending jolts of electricity through you. He grips the bottoms of your thighs, pushing them up, spread, with your knees close to your shoulders, then hoists your ankles up over his shoulders, somehow fucking you even deeper than before. Your nails dig into his large biceps.
âBuck,â you breathe out, âI think Iâm gonnaâŚâ
âCome for me. Come around my cock like a good girl,â He assures you, sending you over the edge. Your legs vibrate and your back arches off the mattress. His relentless pace does not falter, which drags out your pleasure, and you continue writhing and moaning under his touch.
Feeling your orgasm and the way you clench down on him makes his own orgasm imminent. âBaby, where do you want me to come?â He asks, and it dawned over both of you that in your frenzy, you hadnât discussed it at all.
âInsideâŚme,â you croak out, too far gone to even begin forming a coherent sentence beyond what was necessary.
That was all the encouragement he needed. Before long, his thrusts become erratic and sloppy, fucking into you desperately, before pushing himself all the way inside you, as deep as he possibly can. You feel his cock twitch and then the warmth pooling inside you as his release coats your insides, with a deep groan and a simple âfuck.â
He collapses onto you for a moment, and you can feel his heart beating against your own chest. He lifts himself off you, worried that he might crush you, but still not pulling out. He just stares at your face. Both of you have flushed faces, with red lips which had been kissed raw, and a dopey daze in your eyes. You admire the way his blue eyes sparkle, the way his birthmark seems a little more noticeable than usual, the way his curls stick to his skin with sweat. You were always obviously aware that he was attractive, but right now you could not tear your eyes away from his face if you wanted to. He is so pretty. Truly beautiful. And heâs thinking the exact same thing about you.
When he finally pulls out of you, you instantly miss the way he filled you. He reaches for a used t-shirt and wipes you clean before using it to clean himself up. Then, he wraps his arms around you, holding you as close to his chest as possible, almost constricting your breathing.
After a few minutes of calm cuddling, he finally speaks, âDonât bother texting your mom that weâre not really together.â
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