🪐

“What the fuck was that?!”

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 Shane’s features.

“Oh my God, you are actually mad?” He said, the shit-eating grin still plastered on his face.

Shane rolled his eyes, huffing something under his breath that sounded like “fucking asshole.”

“So you came up here just to complain, then?” 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 Ilya’s hotel room, but Shane was not about to admit that out loud. Instead, his dark eyes bore holes into Ilya’s hazel ones, until Ilya’s hand came up slowly, tentatively cupping the shorter man’s face.

Shane instantly let his head be supported by Ilya’s hand, tipping slightly towards it.

“I am so sorry for flirting with you in front of your friends,” said Ilya, sounding more condescending than apologetic.

“Fuck you”

Ilya huffed out a laugh like this was amusing to him, which only made Shane’s brow furrow deeper.

“It’s not a joke. People talk,” He began, exasperated.

“Relax. Everyone knows I flirt. It is more weird if I do not flirt with you at all,” Ilya assured him.

“You didn’t flirt with Hayden,” Shane pointed out.

“Who would flirt with Hayden?” Said Ilya with feigned disgust, which actually made Shane’s expression soften momentarily.

“Good. A smile. Finally,” Said Ilya, smiling back at Shane, “Now, take your clothes off.”

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.

“On your stomach, Hollander.”

Shane complied immediately which always sent a shiver down Ilya’s spine. He wondered what kind of request it would take for Shane to actually not obey — if there was one at all.

Shane heard the quiet shuffling of clothes being undone, then felt the mattress dip under Ilya’s weight. He felt the heat radiating off the other man’s body, knees planted on either side of Shane’s hips.

Shane’s face was covered by his crossed arms on the duvet, so he couldn’t really see much of anything. When he felt Ilya’s hands on his back, slowly running down the muscles he’d slowly built over the years, he expected to feel Ilya’s long fingers dip into the waistband of his boxer shorts and pull down, but Ilya’s hands didn’t touch the elastic. Instead, when he reached Shane’s lower back, Ilya dragged his calloused hands back up the length of Shane’s back, making the hairs on the back of Shane’s 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.

“Patience, Hollander,” He drawled.

Ilya’s lips planted a soft kiss in the space between Shane’s ear and his hairline, then another on his neck, then another on his shoulder. He kept planting sweet little kisses all the way over Shane’s 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 Shane’s back which Ilya’s 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 Shane’s ear.

“You are still mad?” Shane could hear the smirk in Ilya’s 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 Shane’s neck.

At last, Ilya’s fingers hooked into the waistband of Shane’s underwear, and Shane shuddered in anticipation, lifting his lips a little to help Ilya undress him.

“Can take these off, yes?” He asked in a deep voice.

“Yes,” breathed out Shane.

“You do not want to fold them?”

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 Shane’s right thigh, stopping just under the crease of his ass, digging his fingers into the flesh. His thumb pushed just enough to spread Shane’s cheek, exposing his puckered hole.

"Chert voz’mi", he groaned, before sinking his teeth into Shane’s ass cheek.

“Fuck!,” Shane whined, but was immediately soothed by Ilya’s tongue which lapped over the bite.

“Sorry,” Ilya said with his mouth still pressed against Shane’s skin.

Ilya brought his other hand to cup Shane’s other ass cheek, mirroring the other hand, spreading him open. For a moment, Shane felt very exposed, until Ilya’s wet tongue licked over his hole. Then, Shane’s 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 couldn’t 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.

“Fuck, Hollander. You are dripping,” Ilya said with a gravelly voice.

Shane couldn’t even bring himself to insult him. Instead, he used all the effort he could conjure to whine out, “Need…”

He fully expected Ilya to tease him a little —Need what, Hollander?—But all Ilya said was, “Yes, I know. I will give you what you need.”

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 Shane’s body, bent low over him until Shane could feel the tip of the cross pendant resting on his skin.

“Lift up,” He directed, grabbing Shane’s 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.

“Still want, yes?” Asked Ilya, like the breath had been knocked out of him.

“Still want,” Shane confirmed, speaking into the pillow.

He felt the tip of Ilya’s cock against his hole, pushing slowly inside him with a deep groan. Ilya’s 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 Ilya’s chest.

In this position, Ilya’s mouth was directly against Shane’s ear, and Shane revelled in it, listening to soft Russian curses and laboured breaths dancing on his skin.

It didn’t take long for the familiar build up of pleasure to coil in Shane’s gut. It never did these days.

“Fuck, Rozanov, I’m not- not gonna last,” He panted.

Ilya made a noise, punctuated by some more Russian cursing, “You are going to cum without me even touching you? Fuck, Hollander. Make a mess, come on!”

With that encouragement, Shane spurted ropes of cum all over the duvet, with Ilya’s cock still buried deep inside him, and his mouth on Shane’s 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 Shane’s neck.

Ilya rolled them both over, avoiding the mess of cum on the duvet, before slowly slipping out of Shane.

“Fuck, Hollander,” He groaned, still holding Shane close.

“I should probably go,” Said Shane after a minute.

“I am sorry I flirted with you in front of your team,” Ilya said, sounding genuinely apologetic.

“It’s fine. Your flirting sounds like bullying, anyway. I don’t think anyone noticed,” Shane assured him, all the anger having dissipated.

Ilya didn’t say anything, so Shane said again, “I should go.”

“Yes, probably,” He agreed, making no move to let go of Shane.

“When are you flying back to Boston?”

“Early,” Ilya said, trying to sound casual, but his arm loosened around Shane’s body.

“Yeah, me too. Not Boston, I mean,” He trailed off. Of course Ilya already knew Shane would not be flying to Boston, “I’m gonna go.”

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 wasn’t.

Like he had done when Shane first walked into the room, Ilya cupped Shane’s face with one hand.

“I kissed your whole body but not your lips,” 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 Shane’s mouth before planting a slow, deep kiss on Shane’s lips. Ilya’s kisses always made Shane’s head spin. So slow and soft and somehow so filthy. Shane’s cock twitched uselessly in his pants.

“Goodnight, Hollander” He spoke softly, like he was afraid to spook him.

It’s 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. 

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 haven’t set foot outside the confines of your suite. 

You’ve lost count of the number of orgasms you’ve been given, on the bed, in the shower, up against the wall, and one or two on the carpeted floor — you have rug burns to show for it. 

It’s 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, he’s 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. 

After so many rounds and various positions, Buck decides to try something a little bit different. It’s nothing too crazy, but somehow, the two of you had never done this before. 

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. 

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. 

“Look at you,” He whispers, an edge in his voice, “what a pretty girl.”

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. 

“I love seeing you like this, so wrecked for me,” he continues, “but it isn’t fair you don’t 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.” 

The words alone are doing something to you, and it’s evident from the way he’s looking at you, that he knows exactly what effect his dirty mouth has on you. 

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 — it always takes you a moment, even after a year. 

Buck’s hand grabs your hair, at your scalp, and tugs, pulling your head up. 

“No, baby, none of that. Look up, look at yourself. You have to see. See how pretty you are taking my cock. God, you’re tight, but you can do it, can’t you? You can take it all, right?” His tone is teetering the line of condescension, but it makes your stomach tighten just the same. 

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he whines, pushing a little deeper, “so perfect, so good for me.”

You moan in response, watching. Your eyes flit between your own reflection and Buck’s. Your drooping eyelids, his furrowed brow, your kiss-bitten lips, the tattoo on his chest that moves with every laboured breath. 

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 doesn’t hurt, only adding to the overall experience. 

When you finally cum, it feels like the usual pleasure but amplified. Looking at Buck’s red face, painted in satisfaction at witnessing your climax, then a second later, giving in and coming deep inside you. 

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. 

“You did so good for me,” he praises softly, “perfect.” 

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. 

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 ‘weird vibe’, one was too far from work, another had a peculiar smell. 

Despite the realtor’s best efforts, Buck remained living on South Bedford street. Specifically, on Eddie’s couch. At first, Eddie insisted that Buck keep the bedroom since that was technically Buck’s bed in there, but Buck refused, and eventually Eddie reluctantly agreed to take back his bedroom. 

While Buck was perfectly fine sleeping on Eddie’s couch (it was surprisingly comfortable), there was a slight issue regarding privacy. Since Buck didn’t 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)  this time around for some reason. After spending a whole day with Eddie, running errands, for some inexplicable reason, Buck’s cock ached to be touched. 

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 wasn’t 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. 

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. 

One particular day, Buck was feeling particularly pent up. Chris was over at Tia Pepa’s 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, he’d 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. 

Eventually, Buck couldn’t 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. 

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 Buck’s nimble fingers spread it down the rest of the length, positioning himself so that his back shielded his cock from the water. 

As he picked up the pace, Buck’s 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 too…distracted to pay attention.

For some unknown reason, more precum dripped down the sides of Buck’s 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. 

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. Buck’s impending orgasm. His hand stopped its movements, as he bent down quickly, retrieving the soap bottle and returning it to its rightful spot. 

But it was too late. Someone had heard the loud thud, and their protective instincts kicked in. 

“Buck?! Buck are you okay?” Yelled Eddie as he barged into the bathroom with a panicked look on his face. 

Jesus, why did Eddie’s 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. 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just the…uh, the soap bottle fell…”, He began, explaining himself, facing the back of the shower. 

He had turned in an attempt to cover himself — Eddie had seen him naked before at work, but he didn’t 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. 

“Buck…” Eddie said calmly. 

“Y-yeah…I’m fine. You can just go now…please,” 

“Buck, turn around,” said Eddie, still in that calm voice. 

“I, uh…I can’t do that, Eds…” For some reason, being caught had done nothing to calm down his raging boner. 

“Buck, turn around,” Repeated Eddie, just slightly louder. 

“No, Eds. You don’t get it. I, uh…I’m not uhm…decent?” 

Then, Buck heard the unmistakable sound of the glass door being opened and a cool draft on his wet skin. 

“Buck, turn around,” He repeated again, this time in a tone so commanding, Buck had no choice but to obey. 

“Eddie…” He began, wanting to explain, but finding no words. 

He swivelled around, his hands cupped over his crotch to conceal himself as best as he could, sheepishly looking up to meet Eddie’s 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. 

“Buck.” 

Buck swallowed the knot in his throat.

“I-I’m sorry, Eds, I just…The couch its-” He began, trying to piece together a sentence from the scramble that was his brain. 

“Relax, Buck. I’m not mad at you,” Eddie cut him off. His words seemed genuine, though. 

“Y-you’re not?” 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 Buck’s arm, pulling it gently away from his body, exposing his cock. 

“Eddie what-” He began, before he was once again cut off. 

“You’re a good roommate, Buck. Sleeping on the couch so long, no privacy, I can see why you need some…personal time,” Eddie stated casually, his eyes locked on the appendage between Buck’s legs. 

Something about it made even more of Buck’s blood rush right to his dick, making it spasm slightly, and he swore he saw the Eddie’s mouth water. 

He wondered if he was dreaming, until Eddie rested his hand over Buck’s tattoo, the one on his lower abdomen, tracing it lazily. Buck’s eyes remained stuck on Eddie’s face, who in turn was still focused on the lower half of Buck’s body, almost bashfully. Was he blushing? Buck felt dizzy. 

Eddie’s 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 Buck’s 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. 

Eddie’s eyes finally flicked up to meet Bucks blue ones, heavy-lidded with the pupils blown. Buck almost whined ‘please’, but he opted to restrain himself, scared to spook the man before him. 

When Eddie’s hand began to stroke Buck’s cock, he couldn’t help himself from letting out a guttural groan. Eddie didn’t 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. 

Buck’s 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 ‘Eddie’s 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. 

Buck’s 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. 

Then — Nothing. 

Buck’s eyes shot open in confusion. Eddie regretted touching him. 

“W-what…why’d you stop?” He panted out. 

Eddie just smirked in response, his hand wrapping back around the shaft, but not moving at all. 

“Seemed a little soon,” Eddie explained calmly, with just the hint of a smile attempting to creep up on his face. 

Buck blushed. Yes, it was quick, but he had already basically gotten himself there before Eddie walked in on him.

“It’s okay, Buck,” Eddie reassured him, like he had read his mind, “I just want to play with you a little longer.” 

Buck’s went slack-jawed. Eddie wasn’t usually so confident. He liked it. It was sexy. Once again, Eddie’s thumb grazed over the tip of Buck’s dick, gathering the pooling precum, then continued stroking the shaft with remarkable technique. This time, he stepped closer, using his free hand to cup Buck’s balls in one hand, while stroking with the other. 

Buck’s 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. 

“Please, Eds,” He whined. 

Eddie grinned, pleased. 

“Begging already?” He sounded almost sadistic. Buck had never seen this side of Eddie, but he could get used to it. 

“Mmhyeah. Need,- fuck!…I need to cum,” He continued to beg, when Eddie’s hand slowed to a halt once again. 

“Soon, cariño,” He said, but, once again, his nice words came with a sadistic tone. A tone Buck could not protest against. 

Buck could feel tears pricking at the back of his eyes. He could take Eddie’s teasing, but his body was a different story. He needed this. Ached for it. He needed to cum. 

His pillowy, pink lips remained parted as he recited a steady stream of pleas. Eddie obliged, stroking Buck’s 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. 

The pleas did not stop, and gradually, Eddie picked up the speed. His wrist moved expertly, as he guided Buck’s 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. 

His hands pushed against the tile, too scared to make things weird to place them where he really wanted them — on Eddie’s skin. His head fell back and his eyebrows scrunched. 

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 Buck’s cock to press his lips to Buck’s brow instead, but he decided against it. He didn’t want to torture the guy. Not more than necessary, anyway. 

“Go ahead, Buck. Come for me,” Eddie finally said the words Buck longed to hear. 

With some final strokes of Eddie’s 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 Eddie’s hand. The sight on its own was intoxicating. 

As he came down, it was like all the blood rushed back into Buck’s brain. What had just happened?

He was suddenly bashful, which was strange, considering his cum was still on Eddie’s hand. He couldn’t bring himself to meet Eddie’s gaze. His heart rate refused to slow down, as the thought of possibly having to move out of Eddie’s 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 wasn’t freaked out?

With great effort, Buck’s 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 he’d seen it before. In fact, he’d seen that exact look in those very same eyes before. Dozens of times probably. 

Blame It (on the Alcohol)

18+| One-Shot | Evan Buckley x Reader | Requested| 7.3K 

-------------------

“Seriously?!” He complained, like he so often did.

“What now?” You asked, feeling obliged to since you were the only one within earshot of his whining. 

He just glared at you, with his lips pursed and nostrils flaring. This is how the majority of your interactions with Buck played out. 

Ever since you’d 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. 

It felt like Buck enjoyed being unpleasant to you. He was curt and critical of everything you did, even when you hadn’t done anything wrong. It was really starting to get on your nerves. 

You had heard through the grapevine that Buck was tough on probies. Someone had even mentioned the words “chased around” and “chainsaw” 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. 

Except, you had finally worked your last shift as a probie. 

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 Buck’s subordinate, and he had to start treating you as an equal. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

“Floor needs mopping,” 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 —He didn’t. The rest of the team seemed equally puzzled. 

“She’s not a probie anymore, Buck,” Chimney chimed in to your aid. 

“I know. That’s why I used her last name,” he said matter-of-factly, walking right past you to the kitchen. 

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 doesn’t get to give orders. 

As the day went on, you began to realise that Buck’s 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. 

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 Buck’s 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 “golden retriever” to describe him. Well, with you, he was acting more like a rabid Rottweiler. Okay, maybe that’s a stretch, but you still couldn’t believe that anyone would ever be inclined to compare the person you knew as Buck to a golden retriever. 

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. 

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. 

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 even…smiled 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 didn’t engage. Instead, you turned your attention to Eddie, continuing the conversation the two of you were having before you were rudely interrupted. 

As the party went on, you had a few more drinks, but nothing too crazy. It was a work event, after all. At your Captain’s home, no less. 

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 Karen’s place. 

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. 

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. 

—————

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 feels…different. 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. 

Then, something really weird happens. The covers move, pulled slightly off your body. The unmistakable sound of a person’s shifting body weight and a soft groan coming from your left. Now you have to open your eyes. 

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. 

It can’t be…but…but.

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. 

Yeah. It definitely is. 

He’s very clearly still fast asleep, but his arm grabs onto you, his body pulling yours closer in sleep. 

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 someone’s phone…Eddie’s phone? Then you seem to remember flashes of being in a car, sitting in the middle, smushed between your two coworkers. That’s 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. 

You had sex with Buck last night. 

———

This cannot be happening.

You feel like screaming but you definitely can’t risk waking him up. How much did you drink? You didn’t think any amount of alcohol could convince you to do this. Him. It’s 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. 

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 —from embarrassment, of course. 

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 looks…cute?, You think. All peaceful and flushed and pretty. Definitely pretty. 

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 wouldn’t be able to slip out without moving him and moving him would wake him. You definitely don’t want to wake him. 

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. 

Except he doesn’t. 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. 

Then something weird happens. He shifts a little again, his hand caressing your arm, and nose still pressed into your neck. That’s 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. 

Then, while you’re trying to recalibrate yourself, something even stranger happens. He says something. His voice is gravelly and quiet, but it’s unmistakable. 

He says your name. 

Your first name. Not ‘probie’. 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. 

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. You’re 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. 

————

It’s 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 didn’t speak about whatever happened. In fact, you hadn’t spoken at all since that night. It wasn’t unusual, after all, you weren’t 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. 

When you step into the locker room, Buck’s 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. 

You clear your throat to alert him of your presence, and he glances towards you. There’s no scowl on his face this time. In fact, his expression is unreadable.

The rest of the day, there’s no snide remarks, no jabs, no teasing. In fact, it seems like he’s 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. 

In the evening, you try to get some rest in the bunks but you can’t 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. 

“Hey, uh…Can I ask you something?” He asks from behind you. You groan inside. 

“Yeah, sure. What is it?” You answer, turning and steadying yourself against the countertop. His gaze is still focused away from you as he speaks. 

“After your party…”

Oh, God. Here we go. You think. 

“Did we, uh…” He continues, “…Have sex?” 

You try to keep your expression neutral. So, he didn’t remember it either? 

“Why do you think that?” You ask, trying hard to keep your voice steady. 

There’s a hint of a smirk on his face, “Found a pair of lacy panties tangled up in my sheets when I was making the bed…they weren’t exactly my size, so…” 

You purse your lips, “That’s it?” 

“And some…other stuff. Anyway, did we?” 

“Why do you assume it was me? We were drinking with all those people at the bar.”

“Yes, right. Exactly. And that’s what I thought too, but…” He begins. 

“But what?” You ask, and his brow is furrowed but the corners of his mouth are upturned. 

“Well, I seem to remember an Uber ride, after we left the bar. With you and Eddie. And unless Eddie’s started wearing lacy thongs…” 

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. 

“It’s not a big deal. I just…I can’t really remember what happened. I just woke up alone really confused. So, if you can shed some light,” he says. 

“Well, I can’t.” 

“No, yeah. It must have been someone else, then I guess.” 

Did he sound disappointed? 

“No, I mean…” You take a deep breath, and a sip of tea, hoping it would help calm your nerves but it just scalds your tongue, “I don’t remember much either.” 

His eyebrows shoot up at your words. 

“S-so it was you?”

You cringe a little, “Uh, well…yeah. I woke up in your bed,” You whisper, desperately hoping the ground would open and swallow you whole, “didn’t exactly remember how I got there. Or why.” 

His expression turns coy, “‘why’?” He echoes.

“Yeah, ‘why’. You’re not exactly nice to me, usually. I mean you-”

You’re 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. 

The next morning, you sit on the roof watching the sunrise. You’re exhausted, having gotten no sleep the whole shift. You hear the door swing open and you hope it’s not Buck. When you turn to look, you’re pleasantly surprised to see Hen coming to sit next to you. 

She takes one look at you and knows something off. God, did you really look that mopey? 

“Come on. Say it. What’s wrong?” She asks. 

“Why do you think something’s wrong?” 

“Oh, please. Do not pretend right now. Save us both the time and just tell me what happened,” She orders. 

“Fine.”

“I knew it!” 

“Knew what? I haven’t said anything yet,” You protest. 

“Okay, but I knew something was up. Go on. Spill,” She encourages. 

“Well…you know how after the party last time, Eddie and Buck and I went to a bar…” You begin. The look on Hen’s face tells you she already understood exactly where this was going. 

“Buck or Eddie?” She asks simply. You groan.

“Buck.”

She looks like she’s stifling laughter, pursing her lips with an amused look on her features. 

“I know, I know. Stupid. I just…I don’t know. We got really drunk. I don’t even remember it,” You explain and she frowns. 

“Wait, did he…take advantage of you?” 

“No, no. It’s not like that. He doesn’t remember anything either. I just think I momentarily forgot that he hates me around the 6th drink.”

“You mean you forgot that you hate him,” she corrects. 

“What’s the difference?” You ask. 

“The difference is Buck definitely doesn’t hate you,” she asserts. 

“Oh, come on, Hen. You’ve seen how he talks to me. How he treats me.”

“Well, Buck doesn’t 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 doesn’t change the fact that he’s totally into you.”

You scoff. 

“I know he has a…strange way of showing it, but trust me. I mean, we’ve all seen the way he looks at you.” 

“And, how does he look at me?” You ask. 

“Like he’s hopelessly falling in love,” she states, matter-of-factly. 

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. 

Could it be? Was Buck in love with you? Sorry,—hopelessly— in love with you. It didn’t 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 didn’t know, he certainly wanted it to be you. 

“Henrietta Wilson, have you lost your mind?” You ask with a smile.

“Call me that again and see what happens,” she threatens and you laugh. In fact, you couldn’t close your mouth if you tried. As much as you didn’t 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. 

“I think you need to talk this out with him,” She continues. 

“And say what?”

“Well, first you should probably figure out what you feel,” she states, “So, how do you feel? Do you like Buck?” 

“N-no, well, maybe, kinda. No. He’s so mean to me. But…He is really, you know, attractive,” your cheeks feel boiling, “And yeah, when I’m around him sometimes it’s…a little hard to breathe, but that’s only because he’s so infuriating and…”

“…And?” 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.

“…And, I think I maybe do…like him, yeah.” 

“Great. So, talk to him. Ask him what he’s thinking and feeling. See if you two are on the same page,” She suggested. You just nodded silently. 

A few days passed since your conversation with Hen on the roof. Despite her counsel, you hadn’t made time to speak to Buck. 

Now, you were home, in your own apartment, finishing up some dishes and getting ready for a quiet night in. That’s when the doorbell rings. 

You dry your hands on a tea towel and head to the door, looking through the peep hole. 

Buck?! 

You open the door, confused more than anything. 

“How do you know where I live?” is the first thing that comes out of your mouth. He grins. 

“Good evening, to you, too. Is this how you greet all your guests? Not very hospitable, are you?” He teases. 

“Guest implies invited,” You retort. 

“I asked Hen,” He answered your first question. 

“What are you doing here, then?” You ask. 

He holds up a pair of lacy black panties, which he seems to have washed. “Came to return this to its rightful owner.” 

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. 

“What is wrong with you?!” 

“Oh, come on, are you actually upset? Don’t you want them back?” He sees the frustration on your face, “Okay, hey. Listen, I know we kinda got off on a weird foot…” 

“Buck…we’ve known each other for a whole year. I don’t think ‘got off on the wrong foot’ applies here.” 

“You’re right. Yes. But, considering recent developments, maybe we should just…talk about it. Squash this…thing between us. Whatever it is.”

Your heart sinks at the idea of ‘squashing’ whatever was going on between the two of you, but you kept your expression stoic. 

“It was a drunken mistake, Buck.”

“Yeah, no. I didn’t mean that. I mean, me. Okay, I’m making this about myself, aren’t I. Damn it. What I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry. Okay? I’ve been a dick to you. I tried to convince myself I was just trying to be hard on you to train you well, but…”

“But what?”

“But, now you’re not a probie anymore. So, I’m out of excuses,” He explains. 

“So…you’re just a dick” you clarify. 

“Yeah…” He scratches the back of his neck, “Except also, maybe I’m an idiot, too?” 

“Maybe?” 

“Okay, I’m an idiot. Can I be honest with you for a minute?” He asks, and you just nod. “I think maybe the reason I’ve been such a dick to you is because I have some…complicated feelings.”

“Complicated? Complicated how?” You ask, trying not to sound too eager. 

“Complicated like the day you walked into the firehouse for the first time I couldn’t take my eyes off you.” 

“oh” 

“Yeah. And, listen, I know you don’t like me. I mean, why would you. I’ve made an ass of myself for an entire year-”

“Yeah, you have,” you cut him off. 

“Right. Uh, I just mean, I know it’s not an excuse. I’ve been trying to work on it. But I just wanted you to know that you didn’t do anything wrong and there’s no bad blood on my end. I just…lost my mind a little,” a faint pink hue brushes over his cheeks.

“Anyway, uhh, here. I washed them for you…Hope that’s not weird. It seemed weirder to return them used. Don’t worry, I used the delicate cycle on the washing machine and some really nice fabric softener. It’s meant to smell like peonies. I know you like those…so, yeah. I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing. And, again, I’m sorry.” 

“No, Buck. Wait!” You call out, holding your arms steady on your side so they don’t shake, “Do you want a drink? Maybe something non-alcoholic this time?” 

He raises his eyebrow confusedly, but the smirk on his face tells you he will take you up on the invitation. 

The two of you sip tea on the couch. It’s a little awkward. After all, you’ve 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. 

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 notices—he notices everything about you. 

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. 

His finger on your cheek. Bated breath. A ‘w-what’re you d-?’ from you, cut off by the creak of the sofa when he scoots closer, finger still resting gently on your face. 

A ‘can I?’ from him. You just nod minutely, like you don’t want to be implicated if things go south. 

Then his lips, your lips. Touching. Kissing. Crashing. Familiar in taste, like an old perfume that transports you back in time. You’ve kissed those lips before. Hell, you’d 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. 

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. 

He doesn’t push further, keeping his hand at a respectable position on your thigh. Definitely suggestive, but not imposing. He’d never impose. Not this. The ache in his core was hard to ignore, but that was his own problem to deal with if you weren’t up for more. 

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. 

“Want you…again,” 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. 

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 wasn’t about to stop this. Not even close. 

“I wanna do this right,” 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? 

“What does that mean?” 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. 

“You like me back, right?” He asks coyly. You roll your eyes and he protests. 

“No, don’t 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?” He waits for you to answer. 

Your lips part but your tongue is tied for a second. Then you finally speak, “you were vulnerable after a year of machismo bullshit-“ 

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I was a dick. But, please, sweetheart. Just…say it,” He cuts you off, pleading for you to say what he already knows. 

You sigh defeatedly, “Yes, Buck, I like you back.” 

That immediately makes his face light up. He leans in and whispers, “Good girl” before capturing your lips and resuming the needy kiss. 

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 —one look at him was enough to deduce that—but you didn’t realise he’d use that strength to gently manhandle you like this. The feeling of being suspended makes you giggle, “Buck, what are you doing?!” you ask through laughter. 

“Hey, I told you. Wanna do this right,” He grins against your lips and your teeth clack a little, “now, which door’s your bedroom?” 

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. 

“Just wanna make sure I remember every part this time,” he speaks softly, leaving a trail of kisses from your knee up to your upper thigh, “Wanna memorise your body. Your pretty sounds. What you like,…All of it.” 

His fingers ghost over your panties, applying pressure. He smiles amused, “So wet for me already, sweetheart?” His lips continue kissing your thighs, as he murmurs perfect over and over, like a broken record. 

You mewl softly each time his mouth inches ever so close to where you need him most, not quite touching. You’re still in your underwear but you can feel the heat from his breath through the fabric, which is only making this more torturous.

“Buck…” You plead.

“What’s that, sweetheart? There something you want,” He grins, and you want to reach out and slap that smile right off his face. Haven’t you suffered enough because of him? 

He seems to have the same epiphany, because he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties —which are unfortunately decidedly less sexy than the lace thong he had you in last time but he doesn’t seem too concerned with that at the moment — and begins to pull them down your legs.

Once you’re 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 can’t deny that he knows what he’s 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 he’s lightheaded, but he’s never been happier. 

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. 

He can tell you’re 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 Buck’s strong hold keeps them pushed open, presented like a meal to him, and he doesn’t 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.  

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 doesn’t 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 can’t help but moan a little, which obviously pleases him from the way he hums. 

You want him. Need him. So, you tug gently on his boxers but his hand swats yours away, calling you ‘greedy’ 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 doesn’t hurt but the sensation shoots directly to your still-sensitive clit, making you mewl. 

“That’s it, sweetheart, make those pretty little noises for me,” he coaxes. You can’t help but oblige. 

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 doesn’t tease or stop you this time, clearly his self-control is also hanging on by a thread. He wants this. He needs you. Now. 

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 can’t help but stare at his cock. It doesn’t surprise you that it’s pretty — that much you assumed, just from looking at the rest of him. What really renders you speechless is the size of it. You can’t believe you’d taken that, and even more how you could have possibly forgotten taking that. No wonder the soreness that lasted for a couple days after. 

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. 

“Don’t you want me to give you head?” You ask. He just chuckles softly, like what you’re suggesting is so completely ridiculous. 

“Not right now, baby. Right now I just need to have you,” He confesses, “Come closer, sweetheart.” 

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.

“Fuck!” He grunts. You just raise your eyebrow quizzically. 

“We used a condom last time. I didn’t bring one with me, today. This isn’t exactly where I thought tonight was heading,” he explains. 

“Nightstand. Bottom drawer,” You breathe out, staying still while he reaches over to open the drawer, “but, Buck…I don’t, I mean…I have an IUD.” 

He freezes, foil wrapper still in hand, “A-are you sure?” 

“Yeah…I mean, I haven’t had a new partner in a while. Not since the last time I got tested. Apart from…well, you,” You blush. 

“Me neither…” 

You watch as he tosses the condom, hovering over you instead. His gaze is focused on your face, burning holes.

“I wanna see what your face does when I fuck you, sweetheart. Wanna save the memory,” he says, brushing a stray strand away from your face.  

“Jesus, fuck!” You exclaim, partly from his filthy comments and partly from how he’s pressing his tip just barely into you. 

“Does it hurt, baby?” 

You shake your head, no. “Feels…good,” You pant, and he pushes in a little more. This time the noise it louder. 

“That’s it. Yeah, let me see that pretty face. So good, lemme hear those noises,” 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. 

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. 

“Fuck, baby…How the hell did I forget this?” He groans. 

“N-need more. Please, Evan,” you plead. His real name on your tongue makes him shudder. He’s not sure why but he likes it coming from you. Although, he’s fairly certain there wasn’t anything you could do right now that he wouldn’t like. 

“Patience, sweetheart. Just, let me enjoy you like this first,” he whispers. 

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, it’s perfectly right. He channels all his confusing, overwhelming emotions into the kiss, and soon, it turns desperate. That’s when he gives you what you want. 

He thrusts his hips, in and out. He starts off slow, but very soon, he’s 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 doesn’t come. Pretty soon, the only look on your face is bliss. 

Buck can see the effect he’s having on you. How you’ve 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. 

“Look at you, taking me so well. You’re my good girl, sweetheart,” he coos into your ear. You can’t bring yourself to try to speak. 

“You know what you have to do now, right, sweet girl? You know how to be a good girl for me?” He asks in such a sweet and sexy voice, it makes you short-circuit. You shake your head a little and he chuckles. 

“That’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll tell you, then.” He speeds up just slightly, making you moan louder. 

“What you have to do now, sweetheart, is—it’s really simple, you just have to cum on my cock. D’you think you can do that, baby?” 

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 you’re close. He smiles, bringing his fingers to your clit. That’s all it takes. In a matter of seconds you’re writhing and gasping, grasping at him while he keeps you steady, clenching and cumming on him. 

He leans in, lips brushing your ear, and asks, “Can I cum inside you, baby? Or do you want it somewhere else?” 

You nod frantically, trying to recover from your second orgasm of the night, “Inside,” you manage to croak out. 

It doesn’t 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. 

The two of you are still, tangled up in each other’s 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. 

Then, he says it again. Whispers your name in his wrecked voice. It makes you shiver, like clockwork.

Read on AO3

You get off the FaceTime call with your parents, your heart sinking. For some reason, you didn’t 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.

“Hey, Buck! You look like you could use a drink. What would you like? I’ll make you something,” you ask cheerfully. He raises an eyebrow, clearly confused by your uncharacteristically warm welcome.

“Uh,…I’ll just have a beer if you’re offering. Thank you?” He answers, wary of what is going on.

You hand him a cold can of beer, plopping down on the couch next to him. “What do you want?” He asks, clearly onto you. You try to play it off as just you being nice but he’s not buying it.

“Fine, I need your help.”

This earns a small grin. He is clearly curious about what it is you need help with.

“Okay, 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. That’s 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, …,” You chuckle shyly, “This is where things get a little…weird.”

“Weird?”

“Yeah, so, I’m not saying it was a good idea, but, it was the first thing that came to mind and it seemed to work, until now.”

“Wait, what worked? What are you talking about?” He asks. “Okay, in an attempt to shut them up I told them that the guy I live with, well you, is my boyfriend.”

His eyebrow shot up, but he didn’t seem upset, just amused at your idiocy. “And that worked?”

“Somehow. 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, it’s been working great. Until now, because, in three days, My parents are coming to LA to visit,” You smile trying to soften the blow.

“And…?”

“And they might be staying here because they think that the second bedroom is a guest room since they think we’re, you know, together.”

He stays silent for a moment, then opens his mouth again, “Now it makes more sense why you ask me to take selfies with you after your mom calls.”

I rub the back of my neck, “Yeah, when she starts getting suspicious about why we don’t have pictures together on ‘the Facebook’ I send her one of those to reassure her that we are still going strong.”

He chuckles at your predicament, “So, your folks will stay here for a couple days. That’s fine. I’m sure we’ll make it work.”

“So you’re fine with this? It’s not a big deal?”

“No, of course not. I’ll be at work all day for the first day anyway. But, honestly, I’m sure it will be fine.”

“No, Buck, you realise that we have to…keep up appearances while they’re here right?”

He shakes his head with a soft laugh, “Yeah, I’m sure we can hold hands or something and make it convincing. Don’t worry about it, I’ve been accused of being a flirt since forever, at least I’ll get to use it to my advantage — or, your advantage I guess.”

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 Buck’s 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 wouldn’t be burst during the next three days.

You make a reservation for four at Gianluca’s for your birthday dinner under Buck’s 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, you’re alone with your parents. The charades haven’t begun yet. That night, you bid goodnight to your parents, then retire to Buck’s 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. “Oh, Jesus, I forgot about this,” He whispered, grabbing his pillow and a blanket.

“Where are you going?”

“Nowhere, I’m gonna sleep on the floor.”

“Come on, that’s ridiculous. You just got off work,” You scoot over in the bed, “we’re adults right?”

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 isn’t next to you. You go out into the kitchen and see him with his apron on, and your parents sat at the kitchen table.

“Morning, sleepy head,” He says, coming up to you and kissing your cheek, “Happy birthday!” You’re caught off guard for a moment but then just play along. He’s making pancakes for all of you, heart-shaped for the birthday girl, and its clear that you had interrupted your mother’s 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.

“Oh, no, honey. Didn’t I tell you? That fell through, I’m coming with you.” You shoot him a weird look but he ignores it. “Yeah, I take Chris there all the time, so I can give you a great tour, complete with facts on all the animals.” 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 hasn’t let it go since.

The four of you take a photo in front of the flamingos, smiling like one big happy family. That’s 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. You’re not sure when you became a dishonest person — 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 didn’t 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 he’s making it up or if he actually did live in Peru and you just didn’t know about it. You still feel uneasy, your mind wrought with thoughts about how you’re 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.

“What’s wrong, darling?” He asks, his voice riddled with concern.

“I’m fine, It’s just the heat I think. Keep walking, I’ll find you in a minute.”

He rummages in his bag for a bottle of cold water and opens it before handing it to you, “Here, this should help you feel better.” 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 doesn’t stop rubbing your back when they do.

“You can stop doing that, they can’t see us,” You groan. He reluctantly takes his hand off you but still sits close. “You’re a little too good at this.”

“You sound like you’re complaining. Isn’t that what you wanted.”

“I didn’t want any of this!” You snap. He’s taken aback but he says nothing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t 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. ‘I’ve been in LA for over a year and I haven’t been kidnapped and also my roommate isn’t a perv’ would have sufficed. Instead I’ve roped you into this mess.”

“I mean it’s not the best idea you’ve ever had, but it’s not a huge deal. Let’s just have a good time today. It’s your birthday. Then, tomorrow, maybe you can tell them that we’re really just friends,” He said, reassuring you. He grabs your hand again as the two of you catch up to your parents.

That same evening, you’re in Buck’s 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.

“Is it too much?” You ask shyly.

He shakes his head, “Not at all. You look…you look great.” He gets off the couch, grabbing the bouquet that was on the coffee table, handing it to you.

“Buck, you really didn’t have to get me anything.”

He just shrugs as you look for a vase to place the flowers into. They’re stargazer Lillies —your 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 Gianluca’s, 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, who’s 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 Buck’s arm around you is grounding and reassuring.

“Oh, go ahead, kiss her! Don’t be shy,” Says your mother encouragingly. He doesn’t hesitate, pulling you in for a kiss. It’s 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. “What?”

“Nothing. I just didn’t realise you slept like that every night. I thought last night you were just too tired to get dressed after work,” You explained.

“Oh, sorry. I can put on something else if you’d be more comfortable.”

“No, don’t worry about it. I’m not uncomfortable,” You assured him.

He got into bed next to you and you turned off the lamp. “Goodnight, Buck,” you whispered.

“Goodnight, birthday girl.”

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. “It’s fine, really,” he reassures, as you push yourself off him. His breath hitches when you move your thigh off him but you pretend you didn’t 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. You’re 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 can’t help but think that he looks pretty cute. He’s 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 parents’ bedroom, he automatically places his arm around you, making the hair on your neck stand up. “You don’t have to…I’m gonna come clean, remember?” You whisper to him.

He looks a little confused then reluctantly lowers his arm, and you can’t 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 she’s 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.

“We’re not actually a couple, Buck, you don’t need to keep pretending.”

“I’m just trying to be there for you. Besides, you probably shouldn’t come clean to them now, maybe wait until your mom is feeling better,” He advises.

“Yeah, sure, you’re right, but, we’re alone right now. We don’t have to pretend.”

“I’m not. I just wanted to remind you that I’m here for you. That’s all. I didn’t mean anything by it,” He protests.

“No, yeah. I know. I’m sorry, I’m just a bit on edge. I’ve been a total bitch to you these last couple days.” He chuckles and shakes his head.

“Hey, I get it. You wouldn’t want to see me around my parents either. Trust me.”

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. “Maybe we should get some, you know, to really sell this thing,” he suggests.

You roll your eyes, “I told you we’re done pretending, and anyway, I don’t need my parents to know about all that.” 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 he’s really into the game and you grow bored and a little hungry, so instead, you decide to look for Buck to see if he’s hungry too, so you can start preparing something for lunch. When you push the bedroom door open you’re 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.

“Sorry, I was just, uh, I was changing, and then I got a little distracted…” He begins.

“No, no. It’s my fault. I should have knocked,” You assure him, the red tinge on your cheeks still evident. “I was just gonna ask if you’re hungry.”

“Yeah, I could eat. I’ll come help you make something. How does pasta sound?” He suggests.

You cook alongside each other in silence, apart the low volume of the game on the TV in the living room. You can’t shake the image of him in bed. It had only been a second but you saw him. You saw…it. And your mind cannot stop thinking about what he was doing in there. You’re 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.

“It’s not a big deal. Really, I mean, it’s just a body, right? I’ve seen those before,” You begin.

He smirks, “Have you now?”

“I’m serious. It doesn’t have to be weird between us just because I saw…that.”

“I know…I didn’t think things were weird.”

“No, yeah exactly. We’re adults, we should be able to talk about these things without it being awkward.”

He takes this as an invitation, “I was just a little…pent up,” He whispers, watching the blush creep back onto your cheek. “Relax, I’m just enjoying watching you get this flustered. We don’t have to talk about it,” He chuckles.

You nod, returning your attention to the cooking.

Later that night, you’re in Buck’s 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 didn’t want another awkward moment, not after that afternoon. You didn’t really mind. You were both wearing shorts, anyway.

The next morning, your parents’ 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.

“Yeah, finally, I’ll get to sleep without anything poking me,” You play along.

He blushes, “I mean, I wasn’t lying when I said I was pent up before.”

You chuckle, “Well, you are officially relieved of your fake boyfriend duties. Thanks again, by the way. You did surprisingly well.”

“Yeah…”

“Yeah…”

There’s a long stretch of silence.

“It wasn’t that hard, you know,” He says, breaking the silence, “Pretending to be your boyfriend.”

“I mean I’m sure you have loads of practice,” you smile.

“No,” he pauses, “I mean its not hard to touch you and kiss you,” he glances away from the road to look at your face, “and act like I’m in love with you.”

“Buck…”

“Are you gonna tell me you hated it?”

You shake your head, then, realising he probably can’t see you clearly out of his peripheral vision, “It was nice.”

“Yeah, but now, now, I think I’ve developed a habit for it,” he tentatively places his hand on your knee, the other on the wheel.

“Buck…,” you begin again, unsure of what you even want to say.

“Tell me you don’t feel it too,” He pleads.

“I…,” You hesitate.

You’ve 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 can’t help the smile that breaks out on your face, and seeing you smile makes him smile.

“What?” He asks, his dimple making an appearance.

“Nothing,” you assure, “I really want to get inside,” 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 you’re 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.

“You’re so good…,” You whimper. Those words are like a drug to him. His blue eyes look black, staring into your soul with a look you can’t begin to describe — 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 can’t 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 didn’t 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 can’t 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.

“I wasn’t done,” 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, “before you dragged me in here, …I wanted to taste you.” 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 he’ll 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 reflex’s 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 can’t take it anymore, and pulls you back up on your feet, immediately capturing your lips in a hungry kiss.

“I need you,” He whispers into your mouth and pushes you gently onto the mattress, “can I?”

You nod and almost whimper as you say, “please.”

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, “Is this okay? Can I take you like this, beautiful girl?”

You shudder, the gentleness of his words contrasting with the tight grip of his hand. “Yes, Buck, please,” 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 it’s 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 you’re confused, and you begin to ask, “why?” until he expertly flips you over onto your back, sliding right back into you. The position provides a new angle, hitting different spots.

“Want to look into your eyes. Want to see your face when you cum,” 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.

“Buck,” you breathe out, “I think I’m gonna…”

“Come for me. Come around my cock like a good girl,” 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. “Baby, where do you want me to come?” He asks, and it dawned over both of you that in your frenzy, you hadn’t discussed it at all.

“Inside…me,” 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 “fuck.”

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 he’s 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.

Read on AO3

You’re restocking the ambulance with medical supplies, going through your checklist with Chimney, when Buck offers a hand.

“No way, Buckley. You lost your clip board privileges a long time ago,” you decline. He just shrugs and bounces away, the smile on his face never faltering, “Suit yourself.”

“He somehow seems more…peppy than usual,” You say to Chimney absentmindedly.

“Right?!,” he agrees, “I said that to Maddie a couple days ago and she was acting so weird. I think she knows something. He probably told her a secret and made her swear not to tell me.”

“A secret, huh? Oh, that slimy motherfucker,” You snicker to yourself and Chimney, “Now we just have to figure it out”

As the shift goes on, Buck seems to be in a great mood. He even lifts weights with a slight grin. It’s almost unsettling, you think to yourself, frowning from where you were trying to subtly spy on him. You catch him upstairs while he’s cooking for the team.

“Hey Buck, what are you cooking?” You ask innocently, trying to sniff him out.

“I’m glad you asked. I’m making baked ziti for lunch, and a special little batch of my chocolate chip cookies,” He explains.

“Interesting…” You say, internally cheering at the fact that you’ll be having your favourite foods later today.

You decide to push your luck and see what you can squeeze out of him. “So, what’s got you so …giddy?”

“Me? This is just normal me I guess”

“Nope. You’re the firehouse golden retriever sure, but this is a bit much, even for you.”

“I…uh, I don’t know. Do you really hate seeing me happy this much?” He teases.

“No, I just…I need to know,” You take a beat —“You know, a little birdie told me that you have a secret. Does this have anything to do with that, maybe?” “Secret? That’s ridiculous. I’m an open book, I don’t have secrets,” He says, way too fast and completely unconvincingly, earning a stern stare down from you. “Fine…Maybe,” He caves.

“A secret, huh?” You say, circling him, when your phone buzzes. It’s a text from Chimney that says: ‘New intel: apparently Buck’s got a crush. That’s all I managed to get.’

You smirk up at Buck, “So this is about a crush!”

“What? How did? Did Maddie say something? Ugh I swear…Wait, how much do you know.”

“Oh, I know everything,” You bluff.

He laughs, “So you don’t know anything apart from that I have a crush?”

“I’ll figure it out. It only takes one social media deep dive these days,” You play nonchalant.

“Well, good luck with that,” He says, seeming too relaxed. You were determined to find out who he was crushing on. Something in the depths of your stomach made you feel like you had to know more than anything.

By the end of shift, you were exhausted. The last few calls were rough. The only thing that saved the day from being a complete disaster was the fact that your stomach was full of baked ziti and chocolate chip cookies.

“So, detective, did you figure it out yet?” Asked Buck, somehow still cheerful after that difficult day.

“No,” you answered, defeated, “Not yet, but I am determined.”

“You know, I was gonna go to a bar tonight with some people. Maybe you should come, meet her there.”

“Maybe I will,” you replied, “Although I won’t make any promises. I’m so exhausted I feel like I need a bath and then a 24 hour nap.”

“Yeah, just come by if you feel like it,” He said, still sporting that goofy smile.

Later that evening, you were already set on staying home, but then you decided that the feeling in your stomach, the one that made you want so badly to find out who Buck was crushing on, was too strong and there was no way you could live with that curiosity. You hopped in the shower, then put on a basic but cute outfit, with the limited amount of time to get ready. You still managed to make yourself look good, sporting all black as you so often did. You shot Buck a quick text, realising you had no idea what bar you were supposed to go to. He replied almost instantly and soon after that you were in an Uber on your way to some bar you’d never heard of.

By the time you got to the bar, it was late. The bar was packed full of college kids and you hoped Buck was not crushing on some sophomore student or something. You pushed through the crowd, looking for Buck, your eyes scanning the room, until they fell on a booth in the corner. It was empty apart from a human golden retriever, sitting alone sipping on a glass of beer. Your heart dropped. Was this a date and the girl he has a crush on was somewhere around here? That would be weird, right? You’d be a total third wheel. Or even worse, had she stood him up? Your heart ached at the thought. You decide to march to the booth, quickly sitting across from him. He smiled when he realised you had arrived.

“When you said drinks with some people I assumed there would be…you know, multiple people. Where is this girl, anyway? Did she not show up?”

“Good evening to you, too,” He chuckles

“Yeah, yeah. Good evening. Seriously though, I’m meant to be taking a bath and a long nap, if this chick didn’t show up, I swear…” You grumble

He just shook his head, the smile still plastered on his face.

“What’s so funny? Is there no crush? Did you and Maddie and Chimney conspire against me just to make me feel insane? Oh, you are good. The Buckleys gang up against me, and they use my fellow paramedic to do it? This is sick work,” You complain.

He takes your hand, “Calm down, there’s no conspiracy” He says, “Well, there kind of is, but Maddie and Chim are not involved.”

You tilt your head to the side, unsure of what he’s getting at.

“Do you remember what you said to me the first time we met?” He asked.

“Specifically? No…” You pondered, “Something about how if you get me in trouble I would make your life a living hell or whatever?”

“Well, yes,” He laughed, “But that’s not what I meant. You told me that you would only ever cry in front of someone if they were on their death bed and it was their very last dying wish”

“Yeah sounds like me. So I was kind of an unfeeling dick, so what?” You asked, unsure of what he was trying to tell you.

“You said, that the only other time you could ever see yourself crying in front of another human being was if you were fully, head over heels in love, which at the time you meant as a joke implying it would never happen, but…”

“But last week I cried in front of you in your car,” you finished his sentence, finally catching on. “So, you’re dying then?” You asked, trying to lighten the mood and rid yourself of the knot that was forming in your throat.

He shook his head softly, “You felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable with me, something you swore you would only do if you loved someone,” He explained, stating what you already knew, now forcing you to deal with the truth.

“That’s why you’ve been so happy…because you think I love you?” You asked, staring at the glass of beer on the table, avoiding his gaze at all costs.

“Don’t you?”

You nod silently, unable to speak the words out loud, and even with your gaze averted you can feel him smiling. “Look at me,” he commands. You look up sheepishly. “I know you have all these walls up, and that this is hard for you to even talk about, but I like you and you like me…so why pretend?” He goes on.

“It’s not that simple,” You protest

“Why not?”

“Because…I’m not the person you want to be with. You just want to feel like you managed to crack the tough nut, but when you actually realise what’s inside, you’ll get bored. You won’t like me anymore. Then we’ll just have awkward coworker tension until this job kills one of us.”

“Do you really think so little of me?” He asks sincerely.

“What? No, I just know that I’m not what you think I am. What you want me to be.”

“How about I decide what I like and you just act like yourself?” He says, sounding slightly harsh. “If you…If you opened me up and then didn’t like what you saw…Buck, that might kill me”

“I…I do like what I see. I always have. Your walls have already come down. You don’t realise it but they have. And I have never liked you more,” He explains. “Listen, I don’t know if we’ll stay together forever, but if we don’t it won’t be because I get bored of you or I don’t like who you really are. It won’t be. I promise you that.”

“…So just to clarify, there’s no crush coming here for me to meet?” You ask, desperate to lighten the mood.

He sighs, clearly frustrated, then throws a ten dollar bill on the table, grabbing your hand and forcibly dragging you out of the bar. When you make it out of the loud, crowded establishment and onto the quieter street, he catches you off guard when you feel his arms pulling you to him. You standing chest to chest, or chest to neck since he is quite a bit taller than you are, your faces in close proximity, not quite touching. You’re faced with reality. There is nowhere to hide. Nowhere for you to deflect to. His hand cups your cheek and he hesitates for a moment before planting a soft kiss onto your lips. You can’t help but melt into the kiss. Regardless of your fears, you have dreamt of this moment, although you would never admit that to anyone, especially not to him. The kiss deepens a little, both of your tongues coming into play. When you finally pull away, he keeps his eyes locked on yours.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” He pleads, “Tell me to stop.” But you can’t do that. You can’t lie to him. You want nothing more than him. Now, later, always. You’ve tried to suppress it, to bury those feelings and pretend that you just didn’t have function in the part of your brain that regulates romantic attraction, but right now you can’t deny how badly you want him, even if you tried.

He takes your silence as permission, once again bringing your lips together, this time kissing you with more fervour. The kiss deepens quickly, and both of you are exploring each other with your hands, while your tongues fight for dominance. Your teeth clack together, both of you too lost in each other to hold back. Your mind is in overdrive. You decide to be reckless. To act with your heart and forget your head, just for right now. “Take me home.”

The drive to your place is quiet. There’s a palpable tension in Buck’s range rover, as he drives the short distance which seems to take forever. Both of you are unsure as to what happens when you get there. He heard you ask to take you home, but there was no promise of anything beyond that in your words. Even if there had been, he would never expect anything from you, despite the ache he felt deep within, his body yearning to have you.

When he pulls up to your place, the parking space right in front of your building is empty. You think it must be fate, or some sick twisted joke fate was playing on you. Either way, you know he is staying over tonight. In an effort to be brave, you reach over the centre console, grabbing his face and kissing him.

He seems to have had the same idea, which leads to an awkward collision between your noses rather than a romantic kiss. You both break down laughing, your hands on each other’s faces. This is the first moment that’s felt normal since the words he uttered at that bar. You feel safe again. You remember now, that this is your friend Buck, the guy you love spending time with, your favourite coworker, the only one who can make you laugh on your bad days. This, this, is the man you’re in love with, and for some reason unbeknownst to you, he seems to love you too.

“Buck?” You say, still giggling.

“Yeah?” He answers, his ears perking up at the sound of your voice.

“Do you want to come upstairs?” You ask.

“I do” He answers, his smile back to its rightful spot on his face. He runs out of the car, racing to your side of the vehicle, helping you out and closing the door behind you. The two of you go up to your floor, hand in hand, giggling like school children. It still feels slightly unusual to be holding hands and acting like this with him, but it also feels exactly right. He stops you right before you get to your door, his hands on either side of your head on the wall behind you, pinning you there. He leads in, his soft, buttery lips kissing you so sweetly and tenderly it feels like your heart is going to explode. When he’s finally done with you, you unlock your door, and he wastes no time getting you into your apartment, making sure to lock the door behind you.

He wraps his arms around your thick thighs, swiftly lifting you up in the air, and setting you down on your kitchen table. You crane your neck to kiss him, your head reeling from everything that’s going on. He’s eager. You can feel it in his movements. He seems almost nervous, his body slightly tremors as he runs his hands up and down your bare legs. His fingers make their way under your dress, and he pulls your panties off. Your stomach is doing backflips but you don’t want the first time you have sex with Buck to be on the kitchen table. This was more than just some drunken hookup or a meaningless one night stand. You should savour the moment, and wait a little bit longer, at least to make it to the bedroom. You place your hands on his muscular shoulders, both to steady yourself and both to slow him down. He’s a little puzzled by it but he goes with it.

“Everything okay?” He whispers

“Yeah,” You nod, “but I think it’s time for you to take me to bed. Like my actual bed, not my kitchen.” He blushes, wasting no time to pick you up, carrying you to your bedroom. Those muscles were clearly not just for show, as he carried you with relative ease. He gently lowered you onto the bed, understanding, as you did, that this was an important moment for the two of you. Although it had not been an hour since you two confessed your feeling for each other, this was the start of something real between the two of you. He grabs your ankle, kissing the inner part of your calf, like he is worshipping you from the bottom to the top. His fingers run up your body, covering your skin in goosebumps. He flips you over, unzipping your dress, then helping you out of it. Soon, you are left completely naked, having foregone a bra under the particular dress you were wearing. You blush a little, feeling exposed as he’s still fully clothed, but you hear him undressing and when you flip yourself on your back again, he’s in nothing but his boxer shorts, which were looking extremely tight on him.

He climbs on top of you, kissing your neck as his fingers cup your dripping core. He slips a finger between the folds, quickly finding your clit, and rubbing circles on it. You throw your head back in response, giving his mouth more access to your neck. He catches you off guard, slipping a finger into you, hearing you moan as the sensation hits you. Adding a second finger, he pumps in and out of you, getting you wet and loose, prepped for him. After a few blissful minutes of him fingering you, you start feeling bold, no longer shy or awkward.

You put both hands on his chest, pushing him off you. He’s not sure what you’re doing but instantly lets you push him up on his legs, so that he’s now standing over you next to the bed. You get up too, standing to kiss his neck, then down to his collar bones, and finally kneeling before him. His throat goes dry when he realises what you are about to do.

You pull down his boxer shorts, exposing his aching length, already glistening with precum. His size is intimidating in the best way You take him into your hands first, but quickly begin to use your mouth on him. You make sure your mouth is full of saliva, running your tongue over the tip, then swallowing his cock down your throat as far as you can, which is a feat considering how big he is. His hands grab your hair, holding it out of your face in a makeshift ponytail, helping you bob up and down on him in a rhythm. He fights the urge to fuck your mouth, not wanting to push you too far. He moans as his grip on your hair tightens and you, not wanting him to finish before the main event, take your lips off him, using his hands as leverage to stand up. He immediately kisses you, grabbing your hips roughly. He pushes you and you fall backwards landing on the mattress, and he follows on top of you.

Your legs wrap around his body, desperate for him now. He can feel how wet you are for him, ready to be stretched by his cock. He locks eyes with you as the tip of his cock presses against your opening, slipping all the way inside you in one move. Your eyes widen and you gasp loudly, the intense pleasure hitting you like a brick. He lowers his head and groans, your foreheads touching, and he begins to thrust into you.

You’ve never experienced anything like this. His size is incomparable to your past experiences, making you feel things you never knew you could. Every thrust makes him hit the right spot, causing your mind to black out, with nothing but pleasure on your mind. A few times, he even makes you squirt out a little bit of water involuntarily, which makes his head spin. He loves how well you’re taking him but more importantly, he loves to see how your body is reacting to him. Your heaving chest, your quivering legs, the parted lips. He is mesmerised by you. He is sure he’s not going to last too long. You also feel your orgasm build, the pressure in your lower abdomen threatening to blow. You grab onto him tightly, your eyes squeezing shut.

“Look at me, baby. Please,” He pleads. You make an effort to open your eyes, “Good girl. That’s my good girl. Are you getting close, baby?” All you can do is nod in response.

The sight of you is too much to handle and he groans, “Oh, fuck, I’m coming” He says breathily into your hair. You feel his cock twitch as come spills from his body, filling you up. The sensation is all you need, sending you over the edge, and you hold each other as you come together. You can’t say a word, your mind going at a million miles a minute. Is this even really happening? Your hole is full of Buck’s cum. He’s on top of you. He loves you. It’s all so overwhelming, in the best way.

When he finally gets up and pulls out, he grabs a rag and wipes the come that dribbled out of you off your thighs, then cleans himself up. He gets back in bed with you, snuggling up to you, his big arms pulling you as tightly to his chest as possible. Your heart flutters. You hate what a sappy softie he turns you into with just a touch, but you want him to turn you into a sappy softy forever if possible. He kisses the top of your head, taking in the familiar scent of your hair. Just hours ago you were theorising about a mystery woman he could be in love with, only to find out it was you all along. You should have known.

“I meant every word,” He says, breaking the silence

“What?”

“I…I love you. I do. I want us to be together. I know we kinda fucked it up with…uhh, this”

“We didn’t fuck anything up,” you say, cutting him off, “and for the record, I love you too.”

He smiles, burying his face in your hair, his arms wrapping around you even more tightly. Your phone buzzes and you reach out to see what’s happening. It’s a text from Chimney that reads: ‘Maddie finally caved, you’re not gna guess who Buck's crush is on! :O!! 911!!.’

When you walk into the apartment you share with your boyfriend Buck, your nostrils are immediately treated to the smell of cookies wafting through the air. The tiny pair of shoes by the front door and the throw pillows on the floor confirm your suspicions, before you hear giggling coming from behind the couch in the living room. 

“Do I hear a special princess?” You call out, earning more soft giggles. You creep up to the couch and when you’re close enough, Buck and Jee jump up with a “Raah!” You feign shock and Jee giggles even more, clearly happy with the way their plan to rattle you seemed to have worked. 

Buck comes around the couch and embraces you, planting a chaste kiss on your lips while Jee laughs and cries “ew!”. 

“Maddie and Chim needed someone to watch her and you know I can never say no to that little face. I’m sorry, babe, I know you had a long day, but I can just watch her while you do your own thing,” He explains. 

You shake your head, “Hey, I love having Jee over. She’s my favourite of the Buckley clan by a mile,” You tease and he rolls his eyes, softly punching your shoulder. 

The three of you eat the dinner that Buck prepared before you got home, sitting at the dining table you rarely ever actually use, having grown accustomed to eating meals on the couch. You finish the meal with a chocolate chip cookie that Jee helped Buck bake — one of her favourite activities to do with her uncle Buck. After dinner,  the two of you get Jee ready for bed. She brushes her tiny little teeth with her purple toothbrush and strawberry-flavoured toothpaste while standing on a step stool so she could see her reflection in the bathroom mirror, while you and Buck brush your teeth behind her, as she insisted that the three of you do it at the same time. Then, you settle her into the guest bedroom, making sure she has her blanket and her favourite stuffed animal, as well as her moon-shaped nightlight. 

You and Buck sit on the edge of the bed while Jee grips her stuffed animal tightly, listening to the two of you read her the bedtime story she had picked. You take turns, making silly voices for each character in the story, and acting it out as dramatically as possible. After some more giggling at her uncle’s antics, Jee was fast asleep, all tuckered out from the high-energy evening she had spent with Buck. You tuck her in, then quietly leave the room, shutting the door behind you as silently as you possibly could. 

Although it was past the child’s bedtime, it was still early for the two of you to sleep just yet, so you decided to clean up instead, doing the dishes and clearing up the mess Buck and Jee made earlier in the living room. Eventually, you end up on the couch, watching some sitcom reruns on low volume. You rest your head on Buck’s muscular shoulder, enjoying the way his skin smelled like his sweat mixed with his laundry detergent and cookie dough. You were exhausted from work but still content. Weirdly enough, the slow evening and bedtime routine with Buck and Jee was relaxing after the gruelling day you had. After a while and both of you snoozing a little, you decide to get into bed. 

When you enter the bedroom, it’s like something shifts and Buck is no longer sleepy. He walked in behind you and immediately, his hands are all over you, with his arms wrapped around your waist pulling you to him. He buries his face in your neck, smelling the sweet scent of your hair and leaving light kisses in the crook of your neck. You smile at the touch, enjoying the familiarity and how he always manages to make you feel so loved, even when you also feel his desire for you. His hands move down from your waist to your hips as he gently pulls you as close to him as you can be, and you can feel something under his pants, but he doesn’t push for anything else, seemingly content just having you this close, even if there are several layers of clothing separating you two. 

His fingers grab the hem of your shirt, pulling it off you before tossing it in the laundry basket. “Buck…we can’t do this. I don’t want to emotionally scar your niece.” 

“Do what? I’m simply helping you get ready for bed. You have to take these off to put your pjs on, you know,” He whispers teasingly in your ear. 

He does indeed help you put your pyjama pants and sleep shirt on, but not before stripping you down sensually and feeling you up a little. You don’t mind the attention one bit, relishing in the feeling of having his strong arms claim you as his. You always enjoy his touch, even if it doesn’t necessarily lead to anything further. Almost more so then. 

When both of you are in your pyjamas, he turns you to face him, and gently caresses your cheeks, kissing you in a slightly less gentle manner. The kiss heats up as the two of you get lost in it, and you find yourself pushing him up against the wall with a very soft thud, but a second later you hear another sound. A feint knock on the bedroom door. You pull away from each other instantly, flattening your hair and wiping your mouths with the backs of your hands before opening the door. 

Behind the door stood Jee, tiny as ever, looking up at you with sad eyes that broke both of your hearts, you could almost hear the sound of them shattering. 

“What’s wrong, honey?” You ask concerned, crouching down to her level, hoping you didn’t wake her or upset her with any noise. 

“I had…I had a bad dream. There were monsters,” she explained in her little voice, her hands still clasping the stuffed animal. 

“Oh no, that’s awful,” you say, pulling her tightly and rubbing her back softly to soothe her, “but it wasn’t real, okay? You are perfectly safe and okay.” 

She nodded softly but her bottom lip still trembled. “Sweetie, your uncle Buck and I would never let anything happen to you. No monster would dare come here. They would take one look at uncle Buck’s strong arms and run away screaming.” She looks up at Buck and grins a little at that, seemingly more calm now. 

Buck crouches down beside you. “Okay, open your hand, Jee. Now, what do you want to dream about?” 

“Hmm…princesses, … and chocolate chip cookies,” she answers with her hand held up.

“Oooh, princesses and cookies? Perfect. Now, let’s lock it in,” he says, and she makes a fist, now back to her smiling self. 

“What was that?” You ask with a raised eyebrow. 

“Oh, Maddie used to do that to me whenever I had a nightmare as a kid. It worked. I bet she does it with Jee, too,” He said. It warmed your heart a little, the fact that, in some ways, Buck was almost like Maddie’s baby too, the same way Jee was. You felt a warmth in your chest knowing that he always had someone who loved him and looked out for him, despite the way his parents were with him. You were overcome with the urge to hug Maddie, and you made a mental note to do so the next time you saw her. 

Jee was okay now, but still stayed in the doorway, looking up at the two of you expectantly. 

“Do you want to sleep in our bed, Jee?” You ask, already knowing the answer. She nods fervently, running over to the bed and jumping up, snuggling right in the middle with her stuffed animal still in hand. You and Buck look at each other and smile at the cuteness of the moment, before getting in at either side of her. The three of you (and the stuffed animal) sleep peacefully all night, and there are no more bad dreams for any of you. 

When you open your eyes the next morning you are confused to find yourself alone in the bed. You make your way to the kitchen where you see an adorable sight: Jee on the kitchen island and Buck standing before the stove, both lightly dusted with what seemed like flour or powdered sugar. You watch the way he looked at her. The way he speaks to her. The way she looks at him with adoring eyes. How his arm is always instinctively stretched out behind her, ready to catch her just-in-case.  How he constantly makes sure that no part of her body is ever too close to anything hot or sharp.

You finally get closer and they both turn to look at you with matching beaming smiles, and say “good morning!”, to you in unison. You get the toppings and the plates and prepare everything while buck cooks and flips the pancakes. Jee chews on a strawberry, happily tapping her feet. She tells you all about her dream, about how she did dream of chocolate chip cookies and the princess in her dream ended up being you. 

Halfway through breakfast, the doorbell rings and Maddie and Chim are there to pick Jee up. She runs up to them and hugs them when she sees them and you can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment at the fact that playtime is over. Chim picks up Jee and holds her close while Buck goes and gathers all of Jee’s things into her overnight bag. You take the opportunity to hug Maddie. It’s not like the two of you had never hugged before, since both of you enjoyed physical and emotional closeness with the important people in your lives, but this hug seemed truly meaningful. She looks at you like she didn’t completely understand why you hugged her so tightly. 

“I just wanted to thank you…for being there for him. I know it sounds weird but I just feel like knowing he had someone who loved and took care of him makes my heart happy,” you explain, your voice wavering due to the earnestness of what you were saying. 

You see Maddie’s eyes well up, and she reiterates your sentiment, expressing that knowing he has someone who loves and takes care of him now makes her happy, too. When Buck returns with the pink overnight bag over his shoulder he raises an eyebrow, realising he walked into an emotionally-charged moment. He wasn’t sure why both your eyes and his sister’s were shiny, but he decided not to press it. 

When Maddie and Chim leave, taking Jee-Yun with them, you and Buck are left in your shared apartment, which now feels empty and eerily quiet. You do the dishes together, the air thick with silence. You finish washing the last dish and drain the sink, turning to look at Buck who is still drying off the dishes and putting them away. He catches you staring and smiles, “What?” 

“Nothing, I’m just thinking,” you retort. 

“About?” 

“About how quiet this apartment is. I only notice after Jee leaves.” 

He smiles, “Yeah, it’s nice having some noise sometimes, isn’t it. Especially noise that cute. She takes after her uncle Buck, you know?” 

You roll your eyes, playfully swatting him with a tea towel. “You’re so good with her, it’s honestly kinda sexy.” 

His eyebrows shoot up at that and a coy grin finds itself on his face, “Is it, now?” He takes a step towards you and you nod. 

“How sexy are we talking?” He teases. 

“Sexy like maybe I’m thinking about skipping my birth control today,” you smirk. His grin falls, leaving his lips slightly parted. His eyes are a shade darker than they were a minute ago and his hand reaches out to rest on your hip. 

“You want me to put a baby in you, sweetheart?” 

You giggle, caught off guard by the instant shift in him, but your cheeks get hot and every part of your soul is screaming “yes”.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” He says, raising his hand to touch your cheek. 

“We could maybe start thinking about having kids…maybe start trying for a baby,” You gulp. 

He doesn’t say anything. Instead, his lips capture yours in a delicate attack, kissing you deeply. Your fingers tangle in his messy curls and he effortlessly picks you up and pushes you up against the wall, holding your hips between his own and the wall. His eyes rake over your body and his brow is furrowed like just looking at you makes his brain short-circuit. One of his arms is wrapped around your waist, holding you up securely, while his free hand grips your upper thigh like its afraid to let go. He pushes his hips forward slightly, sending a jolt of pleasure through you when you feel how hard he is growing through the clothing he is wearing. 

He looks about ready to devour you but both of you are still fully clothed, so he reluctantly sets you back down on solid ground. He is quick to turn you around, lifting your shirt above your head swiftly, then grabbing your arms and positioning you to hold them out, resting the palms of your hands on the wall in front of you, while his feet push your own feet apart. His fingers hook under the waistband of your pyjamas, pulling them down your legs painfully slowly. You feel his hot breath down your spine as he does it, and he plants a kiss on your lower back when the clothes hit the ground. You step out of them, and now you’re completely naked in the kitchen, while your boyfriend remains fully dressed, eyeing you like he’s deciding how he should take you apart. You shudder, slightly shy at how exposed you are. It’s not enough to cause you to cover up but enough to make your nipples perk up and your chest flush. His head comes down to rest on your shoulder, lightly kissing and biting the crook of your neck. 

“You’re so perfect…so, so perfect”, he says, spacing out the words between kisses. You shudder under his light touch. “I’m gonna get you pregnant. Is that okay with you, beautiful?” He asks so matter-of-factly it almost makes you laugh, but you know that he would probably not appreciate being laughed at right now, so you just nod instead. 

He grabs your hips and roughly pulls you back to him further from the wall, then lightly pushes you down from your shoulder blades, effectively bending you over, with your hands still on the wall in front of you. You wait for him to touch you but he doesn’t. Instead, he kneels down behind you, between your spread legs. You gasp when you feel his mouth on you, licking your folds while his fingers dig into the doughy skin of your upper thighs. He loves how you shudder and the way your legs go weak when he runs his tongue over your sensitive spot, and he loves how obedient you’re being, staying in the position he put you in like his doll. He’d never known you to take orders, but in that moment, you were enjoying whatever he was doing too much to question him. 

He finally stands up again and places his hands on your shoulders, massaging you gently. His hips press against your heat which was now exposed completely to him thanks to the way your back is arched in this position. It turns you on to feel that he’s still clothed while you’re already dripping and whimpering. 

Seconds later, it seems as though even he’s had enough of teasing you, desperate to have you, the way he’s had you so many times before but this time with a renewed sense of purpose. He tugs his trousers down just enough to free himself, then grabs his cock and strokes it a few times with one hand, while the other hand still holds on to your shoulder. He rubs the head over your slick folds, spreading your wetness around on both you and himself. With one gentle push, he plunges himself fully inside you, earning a high-pitched moan which he relished. He smiled to himself at the way your body reacted to him. He loved the way every time he entered you, you would react like the very first time, clenching around him, tensing your muscles, and moaning until your body got used to the size of him.

He especially loved the way it felt being inside of you. He already knew you were perfect for him, but every time he fucked you, it seemed to confirm his thoughts. There was no other logical explanation as to how the two of you fit together so perfectly. His hands moved to grab your hips, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your lower back, right over your dimples. The motion served to relax you, and he could feel you loosen up slightly, taking it as a sign to begin thrusting himself in and out of you. 

He fucks into you, slowly at first, gradually picking up the pace. The noises are obscene. From the wet sloshes to the way his hips slap against your ass, each thrust creates music to his ears. His hands are still so gentle, massaging circles into your soft skin, but his thrusts are relentless and never falter for a moment. He is a man on a mission and he will not let up until he successfully completes his assignment. The thought of getting you pregnant, of having a family with you, turned him on more than anything else he had ever experienced. Realistically, he knew you probably would have to talk this through more thoroughly, and that it probably would take more than one day to successfully conceive — hell, he wasn’t even sure if you were serious about getting off birth control, or how long you’d have to be off it before the chances of you getting pregnant were actually significant. But the thought of it alone was enough. 

He wanted so badly to have this. To have this with you. His whole life, he had fantasised about what it would be like to have a real family. A fantasy which had been partially fulfilled in his time at the 118. However, the idea of being a dad, a loving dad who never ignored his child or neglected their feelings, was something Buck had been secretly dreaming of since he was still Evan. He had never been ready before, but he was now. Now, he had you. The perfect girl with whom he could have the perfect family. He figured, with the love you two had for each other, it guaranteed you’d always have a happy home. 

The thought is anything but fleeting but it does not distract Buck from the task at hand. He snakes one arm around your hip, reaching down your stomach until his fingers find your clit. He rubs circles lazily into your skin, which, combined with the way he is moving inside you, makes your legs all but give out under you. You are grateful for the fact that you’re holding onto the wall, pushing against it to keep yourself steady. It doesn’t take long after that for your orgasm to shoot through you, and you clench down on him while the waves of pleasure crash over you. Seeing you come undone, Buck lets go right after you do, spilling his seed deep inside you, his hips glued tightly against yours. You feel how his cum coats you from the inside, and your legs don’t cease the shaking. 

You slowly slide down to your knees, collapsing on the floor while catching your breath, and really just trying to get your head on straight. How did you go from one comment about birth control to crouching on the kitchen floor with cum dripping down your leg? You weren’t too sure but you weren’t exactly complaining either. Buck crouches down behind you, rubbing your back and making sure you’re okay — you are. Your eyes are closed but you feel his hands cup your pussy, then his fingers, two of them, pushing the dripping cum back into your cunt. You whimper softly as his fingers enter you, now sensitive and sore. 

“Such a good girl for me,” He whispers. He picks you up off the floor and carries you princess-style down the hall. You open your eyes and look at him a little confused. He just flashes a smile at you, his cute dimple making an appearance, “You didn’t think I was just gonna try once, right?” 

You close your eyes again, throwing your head back while he carries you into the bedroom, but you’re perfectly content with him having you over and over again. You smile into his chest lazily. You really can’t wait to have kids with this man, but part of you also hopes it takes at least a few more tries, having enjoyed how eager he was to fill you up now that he was trying to get you pregnant. 

He lays you down on the bed as gentle as ever, placing a pillow under your head. He caresses your face and leaves little kisses all over your face. His lips keep repeating the same mantra, telling you how much he loves you, like he’s praying to a deity. 

When he slides himself back inside you, he’s slower this time. Gentler. He lets you set the pace, careful not to make you feel uncomfortable in any way. His eyes remain focused on your face and you fight to keep your eyes open, wanting to drown in the pool of sparkling blue despite the urge to let your eyelids close and just enjoy the sensations. His soft curls stick to his face and bounce with each movement, while he chews on his bottom lip like he’s focused on some taxing task. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck and pull him down to kiss his pink lips. All he can think about is how he wants your lips on his for the rest of his life. 

It was the end of a long shift at the 118. It wasn’t a bad day, really, just not very many calls came in, so the hours dragged on. You were itching to get out of the firehouse all day, wanting to go get ready for your blind date that your friend set up for you with some guy. You had no idea what to expect, but you had been single for so long that you were ready to try anything.

Truthfully, the reason you had been single for so long, and why you desperately needed to meet new people, was because you had started to develop some unprofessional feelings for your co-worker, Buck. There was something about him. He could make you laugh harder than anyone you knew, he put your needs ahead of his own, he always had your back. And plus, it didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes. Last week, while working out at the firehouse gym area, you caught yourself staring at the muscles on his back as they contracted with every movement. Then a couple of days later he was standing next to you while you two were working on the engine, and all you could think was ‘I want to climb him like a tree.’ Needless to say, it was becoming crucial that you find someone else to date and ‘climb’ before the issue became bigger and started effecting your work.

Right before it was time to leave for the day, Buck called you to help him sort out some boxes which he was carrying into the supply closet. You were already basically changed and ready to go when he asked, but you couldn’t say no to him, even though you had plans to get to. ‘How long could it possibly take?’ You thought.

You got in the supply closet, unloading the boxes and placing their contents neatly on the shelves, as he carried more boxes into the room. When he had carried all the boxes in, he started helping you with the restocking.

“Thanks for helping, I can take it from here,” He says

“Oh, yeah, that’s great, I actually have plans tonight so, I’ll take you up on that,” You say, grabbing the door handle, and twisting it. But it doesn’t budge.

“Uhm, Buck, does this door lock from the outside?” You ask, frustration in your voice.

He furrows his brow, trying the door handle himself, trying to jimmy it open, then *pop* and the door handle comes off in his hand.

“Uhm, you might want to cancel your plans.” He said sheepishly with a small smile.

“Seriously!” You put your hands in your hair, “just great.” You were upset that you were missing your date, but even worse, here you were, stuck in a supply closet with the guy you were trying to get you mind off using the date. Just your luck. “I can’t even call to cancel, I have like no bars in here.”

“Yeah, me neither…It’s fine, right? We can just radio for help,” He assured, “except, I think I left my radio out there so, ugh…”

“Buck, I was already changed out of my uniform. My radio is not on me either. Oh, damn this day!”

“Okay, okay. Calm down. B shift will find us, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” B-shift had already left on a call when you two were still carrying boxes, “They’ll be back soon, I’m sure. Then they’ll get us out of here. I’m sure they’ll be here in no time.”

————— 2 hours later —————

The Firehouse was still quiet and empty, not a soul in there but you and Buck. Even if anyone were to walk in, they would have to go to the very back of the building near the changing rooms to even hear you banging on the door, and at that point, you had given up on trying to alert anyone of your presence. It was too late anyway, your date was probably already back home, disappointed that you blew him off. You sit on the ground defeated.

“Are you okay?” Asked Buck, with genuine concern on his face.

“I’m just peachy.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, not really. I’m just bummed out that I missed my plans, that’s all.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. If you were so keen on going out tonight, we can have a drink at the bar down the street when we get out of here,” He assured you, oblivious to the fact that that was the opposite of a solution to your problem. You needed someone else to take your mind off him, not after work drinks with your work crush. You smile and thank him for his offer, not wanting to come off weird.

It was ironic, the two of you stuck in there when a large part of your jobs involved getting people out of places. Usually, you would have had a team of people and actual tools. Now all you have is each other and cleaning supplies. It wasn’t too bad. No life-or-death situation. Just a few weeks ago you would have found it hilarious and maybe even fun just being stuck in a closet with Buck. But ever since you became aware of the scent of his skin, of the way his eyes gleam when he smiles, the way his veins are so visible on his forearms, you knew time alone together like this was just asking for trouble.

“What are you worried about?” He asks, pulling you out of your focus.

“What makes you think I’m worried?”

“The way your eyebrows are basically touching, for one,” He chuckled, “Is it really that bad being stuck in here with me?”

You share your head, “No, no. It’s just…really boring. There’s nothing to do in here.”

“Well it would probably be less boring if you actually talked to me, instead of playing with your fingers.”

“Fine. Yeah…what do you want to talk about?” You ask.

He ponders for a few seconds then speaks, “What plans did you have?”

Oh boy,… “A date.”

“Oh,…I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”

“I’m not, it’s a blind date. I’ve never even seen a picture of the guy. I just know his first name. Matt.”

“Sounds nice…Matt,” He repeats. You laugh at his response. “Okay, yeah, fine. The name doesn’t tell me much about how nice he is. I’m just being polite.” He says, laughing along with you. “Actually, when I was in middle school, there was a kid in my class called Matt and he would take his shoes off and just walk around barefoot stinking up the room, so when you said Matt that’s all I could picture,” he recounts.

You laugh, now unable to associate anything with the name Matt but smelly feet, “Way to ruin him for me.”

“Oh, you just stood him up on your first date. I don’t think it was gonna go anywhere,” He chuckled.

“Yeah,” You sighed, “guess my friend will have to set me up on a new blind date with some other guy I’ve never met.”

“Why do you want to go on dates with guys you’ve never met? It’s not like you find it hard to get guys’ attention. I’ve seen how guys look at you at bars and stuff.” He asks, a hint of pink dancing on his cheeks.

“It’s…it’s just complicated,” You sigh.

“You’re just gonna say its complicated and leave me curious?”

“It’s a long story,” You lie

“Well, if you haven’t noticed, we’ve got nothing but time.”

“I really, can’t tell you!” You blush

“That’s just making me want to know more,” he teases.

“Buck, drop it.”

“No, tell me,” He says, sitting closer to you on the closet floor.

“Seriously, stop!” You say sternly, louder than you mean to. He’s taken aback but he only shows it for a second. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just…embarrassing.”

“No, it’s fine. I shouldn’t have pushed. Sometimes I forget we’re coworkers.”

“What do you mean?” You ask curious.

“Oh, just that we’re such good friends here, and we spend hours and hours together, that I just forget that there are boundaries, you know. We’re not actually friends. We’re coworkers, so I shouldn’t push you or make you uncomfortable.”

“We’re not friends?” You ask, failing to hide the disappointment in your voice.

“That’s not what I meant. This is coming out all wrong. I just shouldn’t act too familiar, that’s all. I was just trying to apologise for pushing you.” He explains. There’s silence, then he goes on, “For the record, you’re one of my favourite people. Even if we are coworkers first.”

You gulp, “I think we’re definitely not just coworkers, Buck.” This makes him smile softly, his head turning to look at your face, his eyes soft in the dim light of the closet.

“What do you mean by that?” He asks, his voice barely audible.

“That we’re…friends, isn’t that what we were talking about?” You answer, searching his face for a hint of something else. Then you see it. The corner of his lip twitches, just the faintest hint of disappointment. You feel yourself get hot in the face.

“Why do you need to go on blind dates?” He whispers.

“Buck…” You look away, but he grabs your chin, gently turning you towards him.

“Tell me”

“You.”

The disappointment is gone from his face now, replaced with a smirk. You feel embarrassed. You’ll never hear the end of this. Why would you say that? Why would you cave? His hand remains on your chin, his eyes trained on you.

“Buck, it’s not a big deal, okay, just-“ You begin.

“Can I kiss you?” He cuts you off. You’re taken by surprise but you nod yes.

He leans down, closing the gap between the two of you. His lips on yours send electricity through your body. When his tongue licks your bottom lip you part them without hesitation, letting him freely explore your mouth. Your hand creeps up his arm, resting on his shoulder. You can feel how strong he is under his shirt, amplifying the desire you feel for him. The two of you get up off the floor for better leverage, still kissing. You push him against the shelves, some of the items you had been organising falling off, as your bodies collide. You tug at his uniform and he wastes no time ripping it off, his muscular chest now exposed to you. You pull your own shirt off, dropping it to the floor. You swear that he growled when he saw your body. His lips latched onto your chest, kissing and biting softly, trying to leave a mark on your breast.

“That’s to remind you of this if you get the idea to set up a blind date again,” He whispers in your ear. Soon, his hand is on your back, grabbing the band of your bra, seemingly unsure of whether he should unclasp it or if that’s too far. You decide to give him a hint by shrugging off the straps and he undoes the clasp, letting it fall to the ground.

Your head was spinning. Was this a good idea? God, no. You were at work, you could get caught. Even worse, you were half naked making out with Buck. Dear, sweet, Buck. Your favourite coworker. The golden retriever. You had heard rumours about how he was a player when he first joined the 118, stealing the engine for impromptu hookups. Something about a nickname, ‘firehose’? You weren’t sure whether to believe them, having met a more timid Buck who respects women, babysits and bakes banana bread. But right then in that closet, you were starting to realise that there might have been some truth to those stories; he definitely knew what he was doing. His hand grabbed your breast, rubbing his thumb over your nipple, while his other hand was at your hip, his thumb hooked in your jeans' belt loops. He pulled away from your neck just to stare at you, biting his bottom lip at the sight of your curves. You decide you want to tease him a little, show him he’s not the one in charge. You lower yourself onto your knees before him, looking up at him with big doe eyes. His Adams apple moved when your eyes met, his hands holding on to the shelves behind him.

He towered over you at his height, now even more apparent since you were on your knees. Your fingers fumbled with his belt, taking your time just to make him squirm. Then, you pulled down his trousers and boxers in one motion, freeing him from the tightness in his pants. His length sprung out, already hard for you. You had an idea now where the ‘firehose’ nickname came from, and you smirked to yourself, eager to taste him. You wrapped your fingers around him, earning a groan, and stroked him slowly, ghosting your thumb over his tip. His hand grabbed a fistful of hair, twirling it into a pony tail to keep it out of your face, clearly hinting at what he wanted. You obliged, using your tongue to rub the tip while still stroking him with your hand. When you swallowed him down your throat he threw his head back, a deep groan coming out of his lips. You took him as deep as you possibly could, tears forming at your eyes and fighting against your gag reflex, but the curses and moans coming from above you made it worth it. You could feel your own reaction, a wet spot forming between your legs. His grip on your hair tightened and he spilled into your mouth with a loud moan, come dripping down your chin.

He helped you back up on your feet, kissing you, tasting himself on your mouth. When he pulled away he grinned and asked if he could return the favour. You were quick to say yes, and in no time he was helping you pull your jeans off. He got on his knees where you were before and slowly pulled your panties down your legs, admiring the way your folds ever so slightly stuck to the fabric with your wetness. He grabbed one of your legs and draped it over his shoulder, and you grabbed onto his hair to steady yourself. His tongue found your clit, licking and lapping like he was starving for it. Starving for you. He licked and licked, introducing a finger to the mix, and then another. His free arm held your thigh while his other hand worked inside of you, massaging your g-spot. Soon, you felt a familiar pit in the depths of your stomach. Your legs began to shake making it harder to stay upright, but he held you in place with his strong arms. You finally let go, coming on his tongue and clenching around his fingers.

While catching your breath you couldn’t help but notice that he was already at half mast again. The act of eating you out had aroused him so much that he had already hardened again, and that turned you on even more. You leapt to him, embracing him, with a sloppy kiss on his mouth.

“I want you,” you moaned into his mouth. His eyes widened. He wanted you too, but after you had both already finished, he wasn’t sure if that was still on the table. His expression quickly turned to a crooked grin as he pushed you up against the door, then flipping you around so that your chest was pressed up against it. He grabbed your hips, roughly pulling you to him, forcing you to bend over. After licking his fingers, he ran them between your folds, making you writhe in anticipation. His fingers dug into your plush ass, holding you steady. You whimpered, wanting so badly to feel him inside you and hearing your sounds made his ego swell.

You felt his tip at your entrance, parting your lips. At the same time, his hands grabbed your hair, moving it off your neck, replacing it with his mouth. “Tell me how badly you want this,” he whispered in your ear.

“I want you more than anything,” you say obeying his request.

Without another word, he pushes his cock inside you, burying himself to the hilt. You gasp audibly the sheer size of him sending shockwaves through your body. You felt like you had been split open but somehow in a good way. You quickly adjusted to his size, the intense pleasure masking any pain.

“Good girl,” he grunts, “You’re taking me so well.”

Your heart swells at his comment and you enjoy so badly hearing how good and obedient he thinks you are. He thrusts into you faster now, somehow going deeper than before. He touches your cervix with each thrust making you groan but its not rough enough to hurt at all. Instead, every thrust makes you see fireworks.

He fucks into you like his life depends on it, grunting and moaning in your ear. Nothing too loud, but in this tiny closet you can hear his every breath and noise, and you can tell that he is enjoying himself too, which in turn maximises your pleasure. His hand snakes around you, positioning itself between your thighs, and his fingers rub your clit. His thrusts never falter, still keeping his steady rhythm. The door rattles and shakes with every movement of your bodies, and your tits pressed up against it are overstimulated from the friction.

Buck leans closer to you, his tall body enveloping you as he presses his chest to your back, now flush against your body. He’s so deep inside you you can almost taste him. His other hand, the one that isn’t playing with your clit, wraps around your chest, grabbing your tits and pulling you back towards him. You couldn’t possibly be any closer to each other than you are right now.

You feel his strained breathing and erratic thrusts and you know he is close. You let yourself get pulled towards him, your own orgasm fast approaching. Your legs are now jelly and you’re thankful he is gripping you so hard or you would not be able to stand. His mouth whispers into your ear, “God, please, baby, come for me. I need you to come for me. I’m so close…I need you to come. Be a good girl.”

The words are enough to push you over the edge. Pleasure shoots from your core, making your legs vibrate underneath you, and your back arch against his touch. When he feels you tightening around him, he is done for. You feel his balls twitch against your skin, and soon you are being filled up and painted from the inside. You aren’t sure if its just his larger-than-average size that has you feeling so full, but it feels like he came a cup full, making you feel like you’re overflowing.

When he finally pulls out of you, come runs down your legs, but he is quick to scoop it up with two fingers, pushing it back inside your needy hole, finger fucking it back inside you. The act makes you blush. You’ve never experienced anyone like him. Nothing had ever come close.You silently got dressed, both panting and trying to get your heads on straight after that intense encounter.

“That was…wow,” You say, breaking the silence.

“You liked it?” He asks, pulling you in for another kiss.

“Beats sitting here in silence waiting for someone to realise we’re in here, that’s for sure,” you teased.

“I never would’ve guessed you’re so…bold,” He whispers against your lips.

“I could say the same for you,” you smile and he laughs. He kisses you again when you hear the engine finally pulling back into the firehouse signifying that B shift was back. You quickly fixed your hair while he banged on the door. Soon enough, someone came and opened the door for you.

When you finally made it out on the street, he grabbed your arm. “I meant it about the drinks, by the way.” He said with his usual goofy smile plastered on his face.

“Buck, it’s so late. I doubt that anywhere is open right now.”

“Well,” He shrugs, “I have drinks at my place.”

You roll your eyes but you’re following him to his car. He opens the passenger door for you, helping you up into his range rover, kissing your lips softly when you’re settled.

“By the way, I don’t think I told you, I like you too, you know?”

---------------------------------------------------------------------