Bed Chem ━━━ Iwaizumi Hajime

bed chem ━━━ iwaizumi hajime

00. profiles i

# fun facts !

y/n went to nekoma and was attending tokyo university with kuroo, but got kicked out after hosting a party and a window in her dorm got broken

she only transferred to sendai because she knows bokuto and akaashi briefly from high school and she knows oikawa through competitions

everyone is the year they were in school, except a few who took gap years or aren’t in college; y/n is a 3rd year, kenma does not attend college

akaashi and kenma do not play hockey; kenma played in high school, but was rarely on the ice

masterlist. previous | profiles ii

summary. when an unfortunate incident kicks you out of your university and risks your reputation as one of the top figures skater in the country, you find your place in sendai. but when you discover they only have one rink, designated to their a-league hockey team, your chance at a comeback slips from your grasp. your only in is with the captain of the hockey team. the issue with that? he couldn’t care less who you are.

taglist (14/50). @standcom @thoughtswithbbg @aboutkiyoomi @loveyislost @angtopia @yunavx @celestialm1nd @surfeitstar @xiaoquanquans @istann @aldebrana @mdmraz @loveyislost @softpia

press start! — back again! (17/22)

after spending almost a whole year on academic probation, you’re finally allowed to start your position as a manager for the nekoma boys volleyball team. you’re determined to stay focused on your team and academics, but things get a bit difficult when a certain middle blocker makes his way into your life

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taglist: [closed] @thea-herondale @m00n1sms @smelliottle @nyxies-universe @leeny-leens @dira333 @literallyushiwaka @hwanghyunjinismybae @starstrikeer @le000xxgrd @doublasting @charlotterosea13 @holaseniorahoe @katnot-cat @marti-mp4 @mary0cartt @istann @zarisluvr @ursafehaven @alyaemes @lunakatsukisan @liliabrary @x3nafix @kukkurookkoo @vivian-555 @sickpatientt @v1sque @curlyhairkk @livixxn @thechaosoflonging @aldebrana @nnnyxie @crxm-dollx @i-bitch-you-bitch @anteroz @justanotherweeb666 @thiisisntlovely @vienna-world @snoowply @anglefish3008 @arialol @asteraslvrr @sunghoonsgfreal @rrosiitas @traacy-lin

SWEET DREAM

< osamu miya x reader >

Summary: Being a manager for the Inazarki volleyball club wasn't easy, especially dealing with their chaos. They had made great friends because of it and had caught some attention as well, especially from Miya Osamu. For him, having a crush on the manager isn't ideal but it wasn't anything that he can control. The worst thing about it, watching your crush already be in a relationship with your teammate.

Genre: friends to lovers, angst, drama, fluff

Warnings: Swearing, yelling, teasing, suggestive themes.

Tags: open

CHAPTER TEN

<chapter nine || materlist || chapter eleven>

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▪︎___________°••>>>*<<<••°___________▪︎

< taglist > @sproutytoad @grimespial @saturns-satellites @meekydeeks

SWEET DREAMS

<osamu miya x reader>

Summary: Being a manager for the Inazarki volleyball club wasn't easy, especially dealing with their chaos. They had made great friends because of it and had caught some attention as well, especially from Miya Osamu. For him, having a crush on the manager isn't ideal but it wasn't anything that he can control. The worst thing about it, watching your crush already be in a relationship with your teammate.

Genre: friends to lovers, angst, drama, fluff

Warnings: Swearing, yelling, teasing, suggestive themes.

Taglist: open

CHAPTER FIVE

<chapter four || materlist || chapter six>

▪︎___________°••>>>*<<<••°___________▪︎

▪︎___________°••>>>*<<<••°___________▪︎

[Taglist]: open

The light of Umbara

Kinktober ‘24 - exhibitionism

Rex/501st × F!reader

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 1.5k

Summary: You’re in a relationship with Rex and the latest mission is proving to be especially hard. When his messages get more and more hopeless you decide to take matters in your own hands.

Notes: This is the first of a few shorter fics I wrote for Kinktober. If you have any special kink and clone you would love to see, my request are open. We have recording of masturbation, kind of remote barracks bunny? All for our favorite captain and his men.

The war was never easy, but Umbara was a special kind of hell.

You had been through long missions before, waiting for Rex to return from one battle after another, but this time was different. Umbara was a planet drenched in darkness-both literally and figuratively.

The constant shadow of war had worn down the men, and you could feel the weight in Rex's messages. General Skywalker had been called away on urgent business, leaving the 501st in the hands of General Krell, a Jedi that couldn't have been more different from Anakin. Cold, calculating, and seemingly indifferent to the lives of his men, Krell was draining the spirit out of the entire battalion.

You could feel it in Rex's words. He tried to stay strong, as he always did, but you knew him better than anyone. His messages came less frequently, and when they did, they were short, tired. You could feel his frustration with Krell, his exhaustion with the war, and the weight of leadership pressing down on him.

One night, you received a message from Rex, and this time, it wasn't about the mission.

"Everyone's down. Krell is making things harder than they need to be. It's taking a toll on the men.. on all of us. Just wanted to hear from you. Miss you."

Your heart ached for him. You knew the toll this war took, not just on his body but on his spirit, and it was times like these when he needed something to lift him up.

That's when you got an idea.

Rex had told you before that when morale was low, anything that could lift the spirits of the men -even something small- could make a world of difference.

So, you decided to give them something that would do more than just raise morale.

You wanted to give them hope.

A little light in the dark.

You took your datapad, positioning it above your bed just right. You spent half an hour fumbling round trying to suspend it from your ceiling lamp. And when you finally succeeded you stripped down, leaving on only a very tiny pair of lace panties - the ones Rex had always liked, the ones that made his breath hitch whenever he saw you in them.

You felt a thrill as you adjusted the datapad, ensuring it captured your entire body.

Once you were satisfied with the angle, you hit record.

Laying back against your pillows, you let out a soft sigh, slowly pushing the blanket off your body, revealing your bare skin.

You imagined Rex watching you, imagined him being right there with you, and it sent a shiver down your spine. Your hands moved slowly, teasingly, over your skin. You wanted to draw this out, to make it as enticing as possible, not just for Rex but for the men who might see it too.

Your fingers trailed down your stomach, playing at the edge of your lace panties before slipping just beneath the fabric.

You moaned softly, knowing the camera was catching every sound, every twitch of pleasure as you began touching yourself. Your fingers moved between your slick folds, already soaked from the thought of what you were doing and who would be watching.

You slowly slid off your panties and threw them towards the camera with a teasing smile.

But you weren’t done yet.

You reached over to the nightstand, grabbing the white-and-blue marbled dildo that Rex had given you as a gift, a reminder of him while he was away.

You held it up to the camera for a moment, letting the men watching know exactly what was coming.

Slowly, you slid the dildo down your body, spreading your legs to make sure the got a good view, teasing your clit with the tip before pressing it inside you.

The sensation made you gasp, your back arching off the bed as the dildo filled you. You pumped it in and out of yourself, letting your moans grow louder as you imagined it was Rex thrusting into you. You could almost hear his voice in your ear, whispering sweet, filthy things as he took you apart.

"Rex," you moaned softly, your free hand moving to your breast, pinching your nipple as you picked up the pace. You knew how to work yourself up, how to give them a show, and you weren't going to stop until you were trembling from your first orgasm.

It didn't take long. The combination of the dildo and your fingers rubbing circles against your clit had you spiraling fast. With one final thrust, you cried out, your body shuddering as the first orgasm ripped through you.

But you weren't done. Not yet.

You pulled the dildo out, laying back against the pillows as you caught your breath. But the heat between your legs was still burning, and you needed more. You started again, rubbing your clit, pushing yourself toward a second orgasm. This time, the build-up was slower, more intense. You could already feel a slight overstimulation setting in, but that only made it better.

"Fuck," you moaned softly, your fingers moving faster as the pleasure in your core built again.

The squelching of you pussy when you thrusted the dildo back in was straight up lewd and you shuddered feeling yourself stretch around it.

With one final moan, your body convulsed, your second orgasm crashing over you in waves, even better than the first one. Your breath was ragged, your body glistening with sweat as you finally set the dildo aside, your hands trembling.

You reached for the datapad, stopping the recording.

Your heart raced as you attached the video to a message, typing out a quick note:

"A little light in the dark, for you. And for the boys, if you want to share."

You sent the message off, your heart pounding with anticipation. It was bold -risky even-but you knew Rex, and you knew he'd appreciate it. Now, all you had to do was wait.

You ran yourself a hot bath, sinking into the water as you let the warmth soothe your muscles. You couldn't stop thinking about the video, about Rex's reaction when he saw it. Would he watch it alone? Would he share it with his brothers? The thought made your core tighten again, your body aching for his touch.

Hours passed, you got out of the tub, ordered some food and cuddle up on the couch with a holodrama and just as you were beginning to think you might not hear from him tonight, your datapad pinged.

"Look what you did. Love you so much."

Your heart skipped a beat as you opened the attachment.

The video began, and immediately, you recognized the familiar dim lighting of a barracks room. In the middle of the room was a table with a datapad, and from the sounds, you knew it was your video playing. You moans echoed through the small space.

The men were gathered around the table, most of them in their white-and-blue armor and some in their blacks, the same ones you had seen a thousand times. But now, there was something different in the air-something heavy, almost primal.

Groans and gasps filled the room as the men watched your video. You could see their hands moving toward their cocks, some already stroking themselves as the video continued. The camera didn't show faces, but you could hear their breath hitching, could see the way their bodies tensed as they watched you touch yourself.

A few of them hesitated at first, but as your moans filled the room, it was clear that none of them could resist. You heard the familiar clicking of codpieces being removed and by the end of the video, all of them had their cocks in their hands, stroking themselves in time with your movements.

You watched in awe as the men gave in completely to their desires, their breathing heavy as they lost themselves in the video. When the recording got to the part where you fucked yourself with the dildo in the colors of their battalion there was no holding back.

One by one, they came, their groans filling the room as they spilled onto the table in front of them. It was messy, desperate, and incredibly hot.

But the best part came at the end. As the last few moans faded, you heard Rex's voice, soft but clear, cutting through the darkness.

"Can't wait to come home to you and reward you," he whispered.

And then the video ended.

You stared at the screen, your heart racing, your body trembling with arousal. You could hardly believe what you had just watched, and yet, the thought of all those men coming undone to the sight of you-it made you ache for more. But it was Rex's words that stuck with you, the promise of what awaited you when he finally came home.

You sank down onto the cushions of your sofa slipping your hand into your panties, you were soaked, your mind spinning. Rex had always been a man of his word, and you knew that when he returned, he wouldn't just reward you - he would worship you.

Foaming at the mouth....

I would hide in the mountains of Mexico with you mi amor 🫶🏼

Feral thought of the evening.

There must be something in the air because this came out of nowhere. Written purely on my phone so not super proofread…I’ll do that on the computer sometime this weekend.

Dropping this and running 🏃🏻‍♀️‍➡️

Female Reader | tied up, spitting, spanking, squirting

You had worn the little cotton shorts on purpose. Knew that they drove him right up the wall watching how the fabric bunched over your plush thighs and barely covered your ass. How the v between your legs left little to the imagination as the fabric dug into your delicate skin.

So when he gets you bent over the bed after a few hours of teasing, you smirk to yourself as he plucks at them. How he tugs the bunched cotton free from where it had been trapped to rub his fingers along the inside of the gusset. Which you know is wet and judging by the appreciative hum he has figured that out as well.

"Did you wear these for me?" He questions as a hand smooths over the globe of your ass to grab at the hem. "Or to tease me?" He asks, giving you a smart slap that makes your blood sing.

"Both," you answer as you stretch like a cat over the cool sheets, letting your arms splay in front of you as you rest your cheek on the bed. "I know you can't resist them."

"Mmm, I think you also like when the other guys watch you," he taunts as he curls his fingers over the elastic waist and tugs them barely down your backside. "Like the attention," his tone shifts slightly, dropping an octave as he tugs a little more. "Like imagining what they must be thinking about you."

You whine a bit and wiggle wanting him to move faster.

"Oh, you want a reward for how you behaved today?" Alex asks as he bends over your back, planting one of his fists on the bed beside you to hold his weight. "Do you think you deserve that? For making Soap squirm in his seat when you bent so far over to pick up that napkin for him?" He smirks as you roll your head over to glance up at him, still splayed out in a submissive posture that you knew he craved.

"I do," you barely whisper, a smile tugging at your lips. "Because you were watching me just as closely. Watching me as I carefully leaned across the Captain's lap to get a drink for you." He enjoyed the game. Enjoyed watching men lust for you but restrain themselves because they knew that he'd make them disappear for good if they touched something of his without permission. All a dance, all a taunt.

He pulls your shorts down further, exposing your thoroughly soaked cunt to the air. The satisfied sigh that leaves your lips is short-lived as he yanks your shorts taut, pulling the center of them into his fist. The thin line of fabric digs into your thighs as he tugs, and you feel him twist the shorts, forcing your legs together tight.

The shorts you had used to get his attention, to start this game, were going to be your punishment.

You shift a bit, but your legs are locked. Nowhere to go as he holds fast to the balled-up cotton that has turned into biting vices on your thighs. You dart your eyes up to him, a hint of apprehension in your expression and he just smirks at you. When he leans back off his supporting arm, he runs a taunting finger down your cheek before disappearing from your view.

"I think I'll keep you like this for a bit," he remarks as he appraises you, the fingers of his free hand sliding just outside your folds, making you squirm. "Keep still," he warns as he twists the fabric a fraction of an inch tighter so it stings. "You wanted me to look at you, so let me look at you."

He digs his nails into the back of your legs, scratching enough that goosebumps flash across your skin. You can feel your skin heating under his scrutinizing gaze and ache to just turn back and see him, but you know better than to disobey.

"Arch higher," Alex orders as he pushes a palm against your lower back, making your upper body sink even further into the bed.

You do as he orders and grab at the edge of the bed for support when you feel it. He had been so quiet about it that your body instantly jerks at the wet slide, but he grasps your hip to keep you from going far. From wasting it.

You can feel the spit slide from your rim to your entrance and glide down toward your clit before being cut off with how tight your thighs are clamped together. The groan of need escapes you as you bite your lip, doing your best to pry open your legs to let the wad soothe the burning pressure in the apex of your thighs.

"Something wrong?" Alex asks as he trails a finger through the spit that has glided down the seam of your legs. He slowly drags it up, and you tense, waiting before he finally rubs the slickness against your folds. You sigh with relief as he smooths his fingers over you, spreading you apart as he does.

"Please," you whine as you try to push back against his taunting fingers. He's barely sunk them into you and as he feels you push he pulls away. You are doing this on his terms.

"Stay still," he orders again, and you swallow the agitated huff, knowing he'll just prolong it even more. And, as if he suspects you'll protest, he waits to move. When you stay silent, he chuckles a bit, "good girl."

The praise sings along your skin, and you grin to yourself before a filthy moan escapes your lips. Without warning, he pushes two fingers into you, as far as they can go, and you clamp hard around the welcomed invasion.

The stretch burns, but you don't fight it. Instead, you huff as he begins to work you open properly, fingers scissoring and twisting until slick noises and your pants fill the room.

Alex doesn't let you help him at all, hand still holding tight to the shorts to stop you from opening your legs to make it easier. To keep you from releasing that building pressure on the bundle of nerves so the blood pounds almost painfully.

“Keep going,” you beg, forehead on the sheets now as you try to arch more. There’s no room for you to go anywhere; your body contorted to its max. He doesn’t relent, doesn’t ease up as he fucks you with three fingers now, making you slick and pliant.

When you come, it’s loud and shuddering, your body tensing and trying to coil on itself. He continues to push you through it. As you come down, back unlocking to a more relaxed position, he draws his fingers away. But you aren’t empty for long.

He quickly notches at your entrance, hand tugging your thighs back to him with your shorts. You hiss at the bite of cloth on your already sensitive skin, sure that you’ve got some type of fabric burn and will certainly bruise. He doesn’t acknowledge your quiet protest as he slides himself in.

“Still fucking tight,” he groans as he bottoms out.

He’s not wrong. With the way he has your legs locked, he feels that much bigger, and you feel that much fuller. You can feel every ridge of him as he rocks his hips back before snapping forward again, punching the air out of your lungs.

Alex isn’t gentle. Each snap of his hips makes you gasp, and you fight to keep your body in the same spot to meet him. His thighs slap yours sending a vibration to your still clenched clit. You need to release the pressure, need to ease that ache that’s starting to consume you.

“Please,” you whine, voice a pathetic lilt as you reach a hand back to pry at your shorts. You scramble one-handed at them, trying to pull them off your skin, out of his grasp. “Please I need,” you try and Alex slows his movements to watch you fumble about.

“What do you need?” He coos as you try to look up at him, eyes rolling up as he snaps forward into you again. “Use your words,” he taunts as he grinds into you.

“The pressure, I feel like,” you start, but he knows. He knows exactly what is happening because he can tell how your body is squeezing him.

In an instant, he lets go of your shorts, the fabric loosening its biting grip on your legs. You can feel the blood rush to your numbing feet, and you open your legs to let some of that building tension in your clit ease.

But Alex’s hand is there. He’s coaxing that tension to explode instead of dissipating. As he pushes into you just a bit deeper, now that your legs are opened wider for him, you come undone.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Alex says as you push up on both hands to try to regain some semblance of control. Your body feels like it never has before and has done something you’ve never experienced.

“Fuck you’ve needed to come, haven’t you?” He asks as his fingers rub hard circles against your clit, so soaked you’re afraid you didn’t just come. “So wet for me,” he praises as he slides his fingers to smear the slick over your lower belly and hip before he grabs you again to continue to fuck you.

You lean back into him as he sets a ferocious pace into you, so slick and soft for him now there is zero resistance. You keen as you feel him tighten and twitch inside of you, and when he growls his release, you cry out as he fills you.

Alex snaps his hips a few more times before he stops moving and lets you fall forward into the bed spent. You feel as if your whole body is twitching from the aftershocks of your orgasm. But those twitches are nothing compared to the overstimulated flinch you body makes as Alex smoothes his hand over your ass and between your legs to play with the mix of his spend and yours.

“I’m going to have to tie up your legs more often if it’s going to get you to squirt all over me like that,” Alex says with a small laugh as he gently spreads your legs more to get a look at the mess you both made.

Day 15: “what are you wearing?” “it’s laundry day!”

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

When Spencer Reid opened the door to your shared apartment, he didn’t expect to hear the speakers in the living room blasting one of those modern songs he didn’t know the name of. You were home, that much was certain.

You had known each other for a few years, so it wasn’t difficult to agree to be roommates while Spencer found something permanent in the city. It was just his first year working for the FBI, and with the expenses required for his mother in the sanatorium, everything was becoming more financially complicated. Your parents, who already knew he was a good man, preferred to host that tenant rather than anyone else.

Your roommate tried to call out to let you know he was there, but thanks to the music, you had no hearing. Resigned, he tried to walk over to lower the volume, and that’s when he saw you.

You were holding a basket full of clothes, but the peculiar thing about the situation was that you were only wearing the bottom part of what he assumed was a bikini. Reid let out a scream at the sight of you, and you almost dropped the laundry you were holding, which would have completely exposed your tits.

“Jeez!, what are you wearing?”

“It’s laundry day!” you shouted back, as if trying to justify yourself. Spencer had already covered the side of his face with his hand, a clear sign that he didn’t plan on looking at you.

“And why are you naked?!”

“I’m not naked, Spencer. Almost.”

“It’s the same thing! Put… put on some clothes, please.”

“Have you never seen a naked woman?”

“No! I mean, yes! Just… put something on, will you?”

“You’ll have to lend me some clothes. All my clothes are in the washer.”

“Take whatever you want from my wardrobe, okay?” He couldn’t see you, but from the sounds he heard, he assumed you had dropped the pile of clothes and then headed to his room.

The young man felt his heart racing beneath his chest, and for a second, he wondered if it would be wise to leave, stay, lock himself in his room, and never talk about this again, or simply laugh at the situation.

A minute later, he heard footsteps coming back, and he hoped with all his heart that when he removed his hand from his face, he wouldn’t find you in an indecent state again. Fortunately, that wasn’t the case, but the image in front of him was still worse.

“You seldom wear these,” you observed slyly, extending the bottom of the oversized T-shirt you were wearing.

It had a faded print of a national park or something, and it was huge on you. Below, you were wearing joggers that Spencer doubted even belonged to him, as he had never dressed in things like that. He would probably donate them after this.

But Spencer didn’t feel shocked by the clothes; he was shocked by the person wearing them. The T-shirt made it clear that you were still wearing nothing beneath it, and just seeing you in something of his sent a shiver down his spine.

He lied when he said he had seen naked women. He hadn’t seen any—well, unless the beach and television counted.

“Do you know how dangerous it is for you to walk around like that? Some pervert could spy on you through the window, or if there’s an emergency and you have to leave, how will you do it?”

“Oh, calm down, honey. I knew you were the only one with keys to the apartment, all the curtains are closed, and I highly doubt that if there’s an emergency, anyone would notice me,” you laughed, as if it weren’t a big deal.

You watched him for a second, as if waiting for him to say something more, but you continued to receive that expression of disapproval.

“Just be more careful, okay?”

“I will,” you said calmly as you approached to hug him. “And I’d like you to come in with a: Hi, good afternoon, I’m back, how are you? Instead of that scream you let out.”

“I would have greeted you that way if it hadn’t been for your music blasting. One day you’re going to go deaf.”

“Oh, uh-huh.”

You had already started to walk in the other direction, but he, dissatisfied, followed you.

“I’m serious! There’s a study that proves it. Loud sounds can damage the parts of the inner ear that detect sound and send signals to the brain…”

“Do you want to wash your clothes too?” you interrupted, turning to look at him. He almost bumped into you. “There’s still space in my laundry load. That shirt you’re wearing right now looks a bit dirty.”

“You’re right, it is,” he reflected, looking down at a coffee stain. “Let me go change and I’ll be right back to give it to you, okay?”

He couldn’t see you shake your head, and he also couldn’t hear your reproachful words as if something displeased you. The matter was forgotten, at least for that afternoon, and you both continued with your usual tasks. Spencer ordered Japanese food for dinner, and you shared a pleasant time before going to bed. You had his clothes on the entire time.

The next day, when Derek and Elle approached to talk to him, Reid couldn’t help but tell them about the scandalous scene he had encountered upon arriving home, hoping to rid himself of the feeling of embarrassment that had arisen in him.

Unfortunately, it was quite the opposite because both agents increased their smiles as he progressed with the story.

“My boy, I think that was a pretty direct hint.”

“What do you mean?” he murmured, looking genuinely lost. Elle just gave him an amused look, almost pitying, for Morgan to continue speaking.

“She didn’t want to do laundry! She was probably looking for something more.”

Spencer frowned and showed a thoughtful expression. The woman beside him laughed and intervened to save him.

“What Morgan is trying to say is that maybe it wasn’t an accident that you found her in that state. She knows what time you usually arrive, right?”

“Yes. But why would she want to be naked when I got here?”

His two friends shared an amused and conspiratorial look, unable to believe that a guy as intelligent as Spencer could be so bad at picking up signals.

“Maybe because she wanted you to see her naked…” Morgan began, hoping he could connect the dots. “Because she likes you, maybe?”

The young man felt all the blood rush to his cheeks. I mean, that biologically wasn’t possible, or otherwise he would die, but for this case, a hyperbole is quite valid.

“You mean she wanted… to do it with me?”

“Bingo! We have a winner.”

He didn’t even know why he had told his work colleagues that. At that precise moment, he was quite regretful for having even opened his mouth.

“But… but she’s not like that. Why would she...? She can’t like me; it must be something else.”

“Oh, come on, Reid. Is it that hard for you to accept that that skinny body and your deer eyes can conquer a woman?” Elle murmured, entertained by how things had developed.

Those two could see the gears turning in the younger man's head.

“Do you think I should talk to her? Ask her?”

“Are you crazy or something? Of course not!”

“Then what do I do?” he implored Elle, feeling completely ignorant on the one topic he couldn’t study: women.

“Return the favor,” Morgan suggested with a shrug. “You know, the next time you do laundry, just stay in your underwear, wait for her to arrive, and voila. Maybe being on the other side, she’ll dare to do what you won’t.”

“Oh God, this is horrible,” the young man lamented, hiding his flushed face between his hands. At that moment, the three were called by Chief Gideon, and they had no choice but to get up and go to the conference room. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Calm down, kid. Who do you think we are?” Morgan reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. A second later, he saw Agent Aaron pass by. “Hotch! Guess what Reid just did…”

“Morgan!” he shouted, rushing forward to prevent his embarrassing secret from becoming public knowledge.

Feeling somewhat fearful, he followed the advice his coworker had given him, and he didn’t need to ponder much about the question he had in mind. You definitely liked him.

Thinking about an incident happening where 20 David responds to a high risk call on a house in a quiet little neighborhood, only to find age gap, content creator reader having a peaceful day. She has no idea what's going on as they bust in with guns raised and shouting at her. She's just relaxing and they come in and handcuff her, making her cry because they've scared her so bad.

As Hondo and his team look around, they figure out they've been duped. This beautiful young lady isn't some criminal holding someone hostage and making threats like the 911 caller had said. They still have to check the house over, but as soon as that's cleared up, she's let go but the team feels bad.

As Hondo apologizes on the behalf of his team and the LAPD, Luca sits with her and tries to help her calm down. Despite his broad build, he's a total sweetheart and assuring her that nothing is gonna happen to her. He does have to ask why someone would wanna do this to her. They talk through any exes who were unhappy with the end of their relationship or someone connected to her job.

The rest of his team get to work on figuring out why this happened as well, and Luca stays with her the whole time because he feels bad and wants to make up for scaring her so bad. He tries to help take her mind off of it after a while by asking her about what kind of content she makes and it gives her some peace of mind as she explains it to him. And then they talk about other things and he gets her to smile, which he can't help but looks beautiful. It's a great contrast to the tears she was shedding beforehand.

@passionwillow. I don't know what happens next lol

that old cliché.

you swore you’d never give in to the maid of honour and best man cliche. and then you met evan buckley.

evan buckley x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol. buck’s a filthy flirt.

word count - 6k

authors note - and so she returns!! thank you all so much for your loveliness on my post about my break - I appreciate it more than you know. this one was so much fun to write. i’ve not written any longer stuff for buck, but he’s a character I feel that I have a really good understanding of - I actually think we’re very alike - so this came so easy. hope you love it as much as I do. <3

masterlist. inbox.

Silvery melodies of laughter clink off the rim of the champagne flute you hold in your freshly manicured hand. As the gentle breeze whips through the material of your dress, you look around you, realising you’ve never seen so many people so happy at once.

The backyard of the Italian villa is packed, dozens of guests milling around - dancing, drinking, chatting and catching up. Family, friends, colleagues; people from every phase of the bride and grooms life, all celebrating together in one place.

A rocks glass is placed down onto the table in front of you with a thud. Looking up, you’re met with the sight of the best man towering over you expectantly with a drink in his hand.

“Evan.”

“Hi gorgeous.”

You scoff, staring up at him through your lashes.

“What’s this?”

“A drink.”

“Yeah. But why?”

“It’s whiskey. I watched you grimace every time you had to drink the champagne, so I thought you’d want something different.”

You swirl the glass, listening to the tinkle of the ice against the sides.

“You were watching me, huh?”

“Of course I was. Can’t take my eyes off you in that dress.”

“Shut up,” you chide, fighting to keep the grin off your face. “I’m not doing this with you.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

“The whole best man and maid of honour thing. It’s just too cliched.”

He laughs all hearty and genuine, and you poignantly ignore the way the butterflies start fluttering in your stomach.

“Then why do you keep looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to eat me.”

Now it’s your turn to laugh, shaking your head at him.

“Yeah, right. In your dreams, Evan.”

“Oh, you will be,” he winks, knocking his glass against yours in a quick cheers before walking off to the find the groom.

You watch him go, not completely oblivious to the way his suit fits him just right. Determined to stand your ground, you inhale a deep breath before taking a sip of your drink. The drink that definitely isn’t exactly what you needed. The drink that he’d practically read your mind to figure out. Effortlessly.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It’s been like this all day.

You met Evan Buckley for the first time last night, at the rehearsal dinner. The bride, your best friend in the world, kept telling you that you’d love the best man.

“He’s from California,” she’d said. “He’s Danny’s friend from when they were kids. He’s a firefighter, babe. He’s hot.”

You’d laughed it off, zipping up the back of her dress while she watched you in the mirror.

“Oh, come on. That’s so cliched. The whole maid of honour and best man thing is so old, Lucy.”

“You’re single, he’s single,” she’d protested. “It’d do you some good to get laid, relieve some stress. And people let their guards down at weddings. Now’s your chance.”

“If I wanted to get laid, I’d get laid,” you scoffed.

“All I’m saying is that Buck is completely your type. He’s gorgeous, he’s funny, he’s sweet. And you’re gonna have to spend a fair bit of time together tonight and tomorrow, so… just keep an open mind.”

“Fine,” you soothed, rolling your eyes. “Mind wide open. Alright?”

“You’re gonna love him.”

“You said that already.”

“Because I really believe it. You’re gonna love him.”

And the problem is… she was kind of right.

No, you don’t love him. You’ve known him for 48 hours. But… there’s something.

Lucy wasn’t lying. He is gorgeous, and funny, and sweet. And hot. So hot. He showed up to the rehearsal dinner in dress pants and a linen shirt, all sun kissed and muscled and tanned and stunning.

The two of you were seated next to each other, planned so carefully by the bride and groom. One minute you were making cautious introductions, shaking hands and smiling gently. The next minute you were crying with laughter, clutching at his bicep as he grabs your thigh, legs intertwined and chairs pulled together.

Lucy and Danny nudge each other occasionally, watching the both of you get along like two old friends that have known each other forever. A look passes between them that says I told you so clear as day.

But you’re stubborn. Too stubborn, some may say. You know you’ll never hear the end of it from your friends if you give into this very alluring temptation, and perhaps your pride means a bit more to you than it should. So you resist, you refuse to give in. Even if you really want to.

And that was just last night. Today has been even worse.

By worse, you mean the connection between you and Evan has grown even stronger. You walked down the aisle with him, arm linked with his, both dressed up to the nines. The maid of honour and the best man, a perfect picture.

You haven’t been able to keep your hands off each other all day. Little touches - his fingers on the small of your back, your grip on his bicep, shoulders brushing and thighs pressed together. Nothing crazy, but nothing meaningless, either. There’s an undeniable electricity buzzing between you, hot and alive.

You’re not sure how much longer you can deny it.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You’re dancing with Lucy and her little nieces when you hear yelling and commotion coming from the other side of the dance floor. Looking over, you see Danny, Evan and other groomsmen flailing around and fussing.

“What happened?” Lucy’s yelling, making her way over with you in tow.

“Just a drink spillage, Luce! But it’s red wine, and now Buck’s shirt is pink.”

You look at the man in question and can’t help but laugh. His crisp white dress shirt is now a pretty shade of pink across the front, his cheeks a rosy colour to match.

“Stop laughing,” he chides, but he’s grinning at you as he says it. “I need to go and change. I have a spare shirt in my suitcase upstairs.”

He starts to leave, but soon turns around and calls your name.

“I don’t have a key for that big door at the end of the hallway to get to our rooms. Do you?”

“Yeah, it’s in my purse. You want it?”

“Just come with me. It’ll be easier.”

Before you can argue, he’s taken off, big strides across the garden. You have to practically run in your heels to keep up with him, shaking your head in frustration.

“I could have just given you this,” you say when you reach the door, unlocking it for him.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

The smirk he gives you is so cheeky, it’s a wonder you don’t smack it off his face. Cocky bastard.

“You’re so annoying,” you mumble, walking with purpose to his room.

“Come in with me? It’ll only take a minute, then we can walk back together.”

You know you should say no, tell him that you’ll meet him downstairs. But you don’t. Instead, you say,

“Fine. But hurry up. I don’t wanna miss the party.”

“Yes ma’am,” he mock salutes, unlocking the door to his room that’s conveniently directly across from yours.

You take a seat on the edge of the bed, trying to avoid watching him undress. He shrugs off his now pink shirt, taking it with him into the bathroom.

You’re surprised at how tidy everything is. Not that you think Evan would be particularly messy, but he doesn’t strike you as a neat and clean type. His suitcase is unpacked into the closet, bed made, nothing on the floor. It only makes you like him more.

“Can you grab my other shirt from the closet please, gorgeous? The one I wore last night for the rehearsal dinner.”

You swing the two doors open and rifle around, failing to see the linen button up that he’s looking for. Suddenly, you feel a warmth behind you, Buck’s solid form caging you in. He reaches around you, arm brushing yours as he finds what he needs.

“Found it,” he murmurs into your ear, all low and honeyed.

Against your better judgment, you turn around, finding yourself face to face with him. He towers over you, watching your reactions carefully. Your hands reach out and rest on his bare chest, steadying yourself before you either fall over or pass out.

Buck gently traces your bottom lip with his thumb, eyes completely locked on yours. You have to resist every urge to either bite it or suck it into your mouth, reminding yourself that now isn’t the time. The noise from the garden floats up and through the window that’s cracked open slightly, tethering you to the reality that is slowly fading away the longer you hold Evan’s gaze.

He leans in, and to your surprise, doesn’t kiss you immediately. Pressing his forehead to yours, he inhales deeply, as if committing the moment to memory. His thumbs are now tracing gentle circles on your jaw, soft and callous at the same time. You inhale slowly, processing the scent of his cologne mixed with the evening breeze. If you could bottle it up, you think, you’d be a millionaire. This would cure everything.

Buck finally closes down the gap between you, inching towards your lips softly. You shut your eyes, waiting for him to finally kiss you - when there’s deafening knocking on the door. The two of you jump apart, hearts pounding and nerves on a live wire.

Evan strides over to the source of the noise, taking a deep breath to try and compose himself as he goes. You perch on the edge of the bed, smoothing down your dress and attempting to look as inconspicuous as possible.

“Buck? Dude, it’s Jake. Hurry up, yeah? The guys wanna do our dance routine before everyone gets too drunk to remember it.”

He doesn’t bother opening the door, just yells back through the wood.

“Yeah, sure - I’ll be down in a minute!”

You hear Jake’s footsteps retreat, both of you exhaling the breaths you didn’t know you’d been holding. Buck looks at you, worried that the moment’s been ruined, to find you stifling a laugh behind your hand.

“There’s a dance routine?”

“Shut up,” he grumbles, fighting to keep the grin off his face. “We created it years ago. The guys won’t let it die.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to see this.”

You’re cackling, reclining onto the duvet as you laugh.

“Stop,” he groans, jumping over to flop onto his back on the bed next to you. “I did a lot of regrettable things in college… and that routine is definitely the worst of it.”

“I hope you know that you’re never going to live this down, Buckley. I’ll be reminding you of this forever.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks, propping himself up on his elbow so he can look at you. “You really like me, huh?”

“What the hell gave you that impression?”

“You said forever. What’s next, honey? You gonna get down on one knee later?”

You’re suddenly aware of the warmth of the whiskey flowing through your veins, giving you a liquid confidence that stuns both you and the man lying next to you.

“Two knees, maybe. But not one.”

His eyes go wide as you smirk, pulling yourself off the bed and making your way over to the door. Buck watches you carefully, gaze steady and firm.

“You coming? I’m more than ready to see those moves of yours.”

He stands up, slipping on his shoes and shrugging the clean shirt onto his broad shoulders. You grab your purse, leaning against the doorframe as you wait.

Evan reaches past you for the door handle, nose purposely brushing yours as he does it.

“I’ll hold you to what you said before,” he murmurs, moving a strand of hair away from your face softly. “Don’t think I won’t.”

You look up at him with big doe eyes, like butter wouldn’t melt.

“Sure, Evan,” you reply lowly. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Breaking away from him, you swing the door open, strutting down the hallway without looking back. Your confidence has sky rocketed, knowing that he wants this just as badly as you do. You walk back out to the garden and take your earlier seat, ready for the show you’ve been promised.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The dance routine is spectacular.

It’s cheesy and hilarious and very early 2000s inspired - it’s almost like watching a music video from a boy band you loved when you were a teenager. It should embarrass you, turn you off majorly, but… it doesn’t. It only does the opposite.

Everything Buck does makes you like him more.

You spend the rest of the evening dancing, laughing, and floating on cloud nine. In a garden in Italy, surrounded by your best friends - you can’t think of anywhere else you’d rather be.

As the evening dwindles to an end, everyone slowly begins making their way back to their rooms within the villa. You sit down, unbuckling your heels to finally give your feet a rest. It almost feels like deja vu when a rocks glass is placed down in front of you on the table.

“Hi, Evan.”

“Hi gorgeous.”

“What’s this?”

“A drink.”

“Yes, but why?”

He pulls out the chair in front of you and sits down, looking at you intently.

“Thought we could have a nightcap before we go upstairs.”

You look around to find that mostly everyone has decided to call it a day. You can see Lucy and Danny walking off hand in hand, going for a stroll around the grounds before they let the wedding officially be over. It just leaves you and Buck, sat in your original places.

“Is this Baileys?”

“Yes ma’am. Do you like it? I figured you probably wouldn’t want another whiskey, seeing as you’ve had so many.”

You scoff, trying to fight the grin that threatens to take over your face.

“I’ve had, like, four, thank you very much.”

He holds his hands up in mock surrender, making you chuckle as you shake your head.

“Cheers, Evan,” you toast, clinking your glass against his matching one. “We did it. A wedding without a hitch. Mostly.”

“My shirt will never be white again, but besides that, we did a pretty good job.”

“We make a good team.”

He looks slightly taken aback by your honesty, trying to hide his smirk.

“Yes, we do. A super hot, super funny team.”

“A super hot, super funny team.”

You both laugh, heads thrown back with no cares in the world. Buck shuffles his chair forward so his legs are slotted on either side of you, warm skin radiating into yours. The moonlight is glinting off of his cheekbones, illuminating the light streaks in his hair. You’re a little tipsy and much too tired to fully fight your feelings anymore.

He’s beautiful, and you’re sick of denying it.

The two of you finish off your drinks, sat in a comfortable silence beneath the starry night sky. His hand has found its way onto your thigh, thumb rubbing gentle patterns into your bare skin. You’re sneaking glances at him when he looks away, admiring the way he’s glowing, buzzed off of the alcohol and the excitement of the day. He’s doing the same with you, soft smile etched onto his face as he watches you gaze up at the stars above your heads.

A yawn escapes you, making both of you chuckle.

“I’ll walk you to your room?”

“Well, you better. I’m the only one of us with a key for that big door.”

He laughs even harder, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I forgot about that. If you weren’t here, I’d have slept on the floor in the hallway or something.”

“Probably wouldn’t be the first time,” you mutter, standing up and tucking your chair under the table.

“Sorry, what was that? Say it again? Hmm? Hmm?” he wraps his arms around your middle, spinning you so your feet are no longer on the floor.

“Okay, okay! Put me down before I throw up,” you shriek, giggling like a teenager.

He places you back down, hands on your hips to steady you. You look up at him, keeping your eyes fixed on his to steady yourself from the dizziness. When you feel ready to go, you clear your throat, willing yourself to walk away before you kiss him stupid.

“We should go to bed,” you whisper, afraid to ruin the moment.

“Yeah?”

“Separate beds,” you tell him sternly, chuckling when he cackles.

“Yes ma’am.”

Buck walks you back to your room in a gentlemanly fashion, looping your arm through his to keep you both upright. When you reach your door, your fingers linger on the handle, as if you’re not quite ready to go inside just yet.

Reaching out gently, he moves a strand of hair from your face, fingertips brushing your cheekbone as he does it. You sigh softly, eyes fluttering shut at the sweet contact.

“Goodnight, gorgeous,” he murmurs lowly. “Sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight.”

He takes a step back towards his door when you speak again.

“Evan?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“Everything, today. You’ve been a damn good best man.”

“Well, thank you. For being the best maid of honour.”

You nod, smiling like an idiot as you unlock your door and shut it behind you. You take a deep breath when you’re finally inside, throwing down your heels onto the floor and your purse onto the side table. Reaching behind you, your fingers tug at the zipper on your dress, attempting to pull it down.

It’s only now you realise your dilemma. The zipper is on an awkward place on your back, right where you can’t get to. You think quickly back to this morning - one of the bridesmaids doing the dress up for you, pulling the material taut as she fastened it. You’re not going to be able to get this off yourself.

Finding the purse that you discarded minutes earlier, you aim to find a hair clip. If you can loop a bobby pin into the zipper, you think, you might be able to pull it yourself. You root around in it for a second, before pulling out two phones.

Well, fuck.

You’d completely forgotten that Evan had given it to you earlier in the evening, worried that it was going to get broken if it stayed in his back pocket. You’d tucked it away and not thought about it again.

Until now.

Now, you’re realising that you’re going to have to go and give it back. He probably hasn’t remembered that you have it, otherwise you’re sure he’d be knocking on the door or yelling across the hallway.

You stand in the middle of your room, with two phones and a stuck zipper, wondering if the universe thinks this is funny.

You’re certainly not laughing.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“Evan?”

He swings the door open, facing you in his suit trousers with no shirt on.

“Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah. I, uh, I have your phone.”

Holding it out to him, his fingertips brush yours as he takes it from you, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Oh, shit. I forgot about this. Thanks, pretty.”

“Of course.”

You stand and look at each other for a second, so much left unsaid.

“Can I ask you for a favour?”

“Anything.”

His instantly willingness has butterflies fluttering in your stomach, flitting and lightweight and undeniable.

“Can you help me get my dress off?”

When he smirks and goes to speak, you cut him off quickly.

“The zipper is stuck, Evan. Alice zipped me up this morning and I can’t undo it by myself.”

“This is a very long winded way of asking me to get you naked, gorgeous.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“If that’s what I wanted, I would just ask you, Buckley.”

“Uh huh. Sure.”

“Can you help me or not?”

He’s laughing, now, head thrown back with it. You hate the way it makes your heart sing.

“You coming in? Or you want me to undress you in the hallway?”

“You’re not undressing- fuck, you’re annoying.”

He’s still chuckling when he ushers you inside, shutting the door firmly behind you both.

“How do you wanna do this? Lights on, lights off? Curtains open or shut? Music? Candles?”

“Undo the damn zipper before I smack you.”

His laughter is rumbling through his chest, contagious in its nature. You want to be angry at him, but you just can’t seem to find it in you.

“Turn around, gorgeous.”

You spin to face the door, taking a deep breath as you anticipate his touch. You feel his warmth behind you, fingertips dancing over the skin of your shoulders before they reach your zipper. You can’t see him, but you can envisage the sight - his broad chest, thick neck, that beautiful sun kissed glow he’s developed over the past few days. Your lungs heave as the room suddenly feels like it’s a thousand degrees.

Buck slides the zipper down your back slowly, with intent and clarity. When it reaches your coccyx, he stops, resting his other hand on your hip to keep you steady.

You know you should step away, maybe throw him a quick thanks as you leave. But you do believe in fate, whether you like to admit it or not - and this entire night has felt like it’s been written in the stars.

Who are you to deny what the universe is so clearly gifting you?

You let your arms relax, sighing as the dress falls off of you and down to the floor. You step out of it, finally turning around to face Buck wearing nothing but your lacy white underwear. Surprisingly, there’s not an ounce of self consciousness in your body. The only thing you feel is desire.

For the first time since you’ve met him, Evan is completely speechless. His eyes rove over you, drinking in the sight in front of him, and he has to remind himself to breathe.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispers in awe, fingers itching to reach out and touch you. “The minute I first saw you, I couldn’t believe you were real.”

“Evan?”

“Yeah?”

“Touch me, please.”

He grins, surging forward to cup your cheek with one hand while the other finds its home on your waist.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

“Finally.”

Buck leans in and presses his lips to yours surprisingly gently, testing the waters. You tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling him as close as possible. He gets the message, reeling you in and deepening the kiss until you can’t tell where he ends and you begin.

You’re being walked backwards and into the wall, pushed up against it for leverage. You hike a leg up over Bucks hip, groaning when the two of you grind forwards at the same time. His hands are everywhere - your face, tits, ass, waist - anywhere he can reach. It’s like he’s not quite sure where he wants them, as if he’s worried he’ll leave somewhere untouched.

“You’re all I’ve thought about for two days,” he’s muttering into your neck as he leaves open mouthed kisses on your skin. “Driving me crazy.”

“I got myself off last night,” you breathe, eyes fluttering shut when he sucks at the spot under your ear. “Thinking about you.”

“Fuck,” he moans, sinking down to his knees in front of you. “Tell me more. Please.”

It’s almost biblical, the sight of him. On his knees, practically begging, looking up at you like you’re his saviour. You’re dizzy with the power, blood rushing straight to your head.

Buck presses kisses into your leg, starting at your calves and moving up. When he gets to your inner thigh, he gazes up at you, pleading with his eyes for you to continue.

“Tell me more or I’ll stop,” he says sternly, hooking his fingers into your underwear to pull them down and off.

“Okay, okay,” you pant, dropping your head back against the wall. “I, I- I couldn’t stop thinking about your arms in that shirt. The, the, the-”

You’re stuttering as he licks a stripe up your core, diving in with no hesitation. His fingers are gripping your thighs so hard you know it’ll bruise, and you can’t wait to feel the imprints in the morning.

“The?”

He’s pulled away to look at you with his brow quirked, dirty smirk etched across his face.

“Keep going, gorgeous. You haven’t even got to the good part. Neither of us have.”

You scoff at him in defiance, but slide your fingers into his hair to tug him back to where you want him.

“You looked so strong,” you continue, sighing when his tongue finds your core again. “Kept thinking about how easily you could throw me around. Pick me up, sit me on your face…”

Buck groans, all deep and rumbled, and the vibrations have your legs going weak. He doubles down on his efforts, slipping his tongue inside as his nose nudges your clit. He’s a fast learner, taking mental note of the spots and pressures that make your knees buckle.

“Keep going,” he mumbles into your core.

“You keep going,” you retort, pulling at his hair.

He chuckles but obliges your request, sucking your clit into his mouth with purpose. You’re shaking, holding onto him for dear life as you reach your climax. The moan you let out is borderline pornographic, and it has Buck palming himself over his suit trousers with a groan.

“Fuck, Evan,” you pant, chest heaving as you slump into the wall. “You need to grab me before I collapse. My legs are jelly.”

Laughing as he does it, he stands up and wraps his arms around your middle, holding you against him as tightly as he can.

“You okay?” he asks, pressing a kiss into your hair.

“Better than ever.”

He rests his lips on your forehead, both of you breathing each other in for a moment.

“Can’t believe you were right across the hallway from me, trying to be quiet while you were getting yourself off,” he murmurs, fingers running up and down your back. “You should have come over here. I would have helped you.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you tease, cupping his face in your hands. “I was still acting like I didn’t wanna rip your clothes off back then.”

“Knew you’d crack eventually,” he winks, grinning when you laugh.

You pull him into you for a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue, clearly telling him exactly what you want.

“You gonna fuck me, Evan? Or are we just gonna stand here all night?”

He shakes his head with a smirk before throwing you onto the bed, chuckling when you almost bounce back off. As he starts to crawl over to you, you stop him with a foot on his chest.

“Nuh uh. You’re wearing too many clothes. Strip, Buckley.”

“Yes ma’am.”

He’s standing up immediately, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them off in one fell swoop. His boxers are next, leaving him stood bare and beautiful in front of you.

“Fuck. You’re not real,” you breathe out, eyes dancing over him.

“Oh I am so real,” he’s reassuring, situating himself on top of you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him down so you can grind your hips into his.

“I’ve been waiting two days for this,” you murmur into his lips. “Make it worth my while, please.”

“Careful what you wish for,” he teases, kissing you again with such a force that you’re dizzy.

Buck sucks a bruise into your collarbone, licking a stripe up your sternum and tasting the salt that sits on your skin. Your patience is wearing thinner and thinner, anticipation bubbling up in your veins.

“How’d you want it?” he whispers into your ear.

“Just- deep. Wanna feel you for the rest of the weekend.”

He groans, a breathless chuckle leaving his lips.

“Anything you want, gorgeous. I’ll give you anything you want. Anything in the world.”

His lust drunk rambling makes you giggle, wiggling your hips into his to hopefully hurry him up. You tug at his hair, pulling his face so it’s level with yours.

“Now, Evan. Can’t wait any longer. Please.”

“Fuck. You’re so pretty when you beg.”

He lines himself up, pressing his forehead to yours as the two of you connect. He’s big and he’s stretching you out just right and you think you might have died and gone to heaven. You both groan, panting into each others mouths.

“Fuck, baby. It’s like you were made for me.”

The baby sends warmth running through both your core and your heart, all the signals setting your nervous system on fire.

“Please,” you whimper, kissing him with desperation as you tangle your fingers in his curls and pull. “Please, Evan.”

“I’ve got you,” he’s mumbling, pulling his hips back and sliding them forwards with clear intent.

Reaching up beside your head, Buck pulls a pillow down and situates it under your hips, putting you where he wants you.

“Want you to feel me as deep as possible,” he murmurs, tucking his head into the crook of your neck. “Won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

You can only moan at the promise, praying he delivers. There’s a shiny sheen of sweat covering his sun kissed skin, making him glow in the moonlight like some sort of angel. Sent just for you.

Buck sets a steady rhythm, not too fast but just fast enough. He clearly knows what he’s doing, and you ignore the pang of jealousy in your chest at the idea of him with another woman, even in the past.

Now that you’ve had a taste of this, you don’t want to let it go.

He’s pressing kisses onto whatever skin he can reach - your neck, your collarbone, underneath your ear. His hips never cease, determined to get you both to where you need to be. When he hitches one of your legs over his waist, you can’t help but drop your head back, eyes fluttering shut at the new angle.

He tilts his hips upwards, and hits a spot that has you keening. Speech has left you, and all you can do now is take it like you were made for it.

“Right there? Yeah? That’s it, isn’t it?”

You nod frantically, sucking in a shuddering breath like you’ve been under water. Your legs have started to shake, and Buck’s grinning when he thinks about how far he can push you before you’re at your limit.

“Come on, pretty girl. Give it to me.”

You’re so close you can taste it, desperate to find this release that’s been building for the last forty eight hours. When Buck moves his hand from your hip to your throat and squeezes just slightly, you snap.

You’re coming with a breathless moan, back arching into him to plaster your fronts together.

“Shit, you look so beautiful when you come. Jesus.”

You manage a soft smile, looking up at him to see those bright eyes staring into yours. He looks entranced, as if he’s staring at a piece in an art gallery. You swipe his hair back from his sweaty forehead, teasing your thumb across his bottom lip. When he sucks it into his mouth, your jaw drops open, mind foggy with arousal.

“Think you can give me another one? Let me see you come all pretty again?” he asks around your digit, tongue laving over your skin.

“Mhmm,” you’re agreeing before you can even process it, eager to please.

“That’s my girl.”

He moves your fingers from his mouth back into his hair as his find your throat once more, applying a little pressure. His hips pick up their pace, faster and harder than before. He’s fucking you into the mattress, strong arms keeping you from sliding off the bed.

He looks breathtaking, on top of you like this. He’s so broad, towering over you like he’ll shield you from the entire world if he has to. It feels like it’s just the two of you in the whole universe, unbothered by anything or anyone else.

“Buck- I… I-”

“I know, baby. Can feel it. Atta girl.”

You pull him down to kiss you as you reach your third climax of the night, arms wrapping around his neck so every inch of you is pressed together.

“There we go, good girl. That’s it, yeah. It’s yours, baby. It’s all yours.”

Buck finally finds his release, triggered by yours. His head drops into your neck, his frantic breath tickling your skin. You murmur sweet nothings into his ear, talking him through it as he shudders and shakes. Eventually, he collapses completely onto you, body weight pinning you down.

You’re both heaving for air, lungs burning as you try to regain an ounce of composure.

He murmurs something into your shoulder, the vibrations of it rumbling through your bones.

“Hmm?”

“You called me Buck.”

A breathless laugh escapes you, silvery and melodic.

“I’ve been trying not to for two days.”

“I know. You thought you were making a point.”

“I was making a point.”

“Sure, honey. Sure.”

“I hate you,” you grumble, but you can’t wipe the grin off your face. “I also hate that we’ve just made Lucy and Danny the happiest people ever.”

“Oh, shit. I hate it when they’re right.”

He pulls his head from your neck to look at you, resting his cheek against your chest so he can gaze up and into your eyes.

“I’m sure we can keep this a secret for a little while.”

“Yeah… we can’t.”

You quirk your brow at him in a silent question.

“I told Danny I was gonna marry you the minute you walked into the rehearsal dinner in that red dress. Can’t hide how I feel about you, gorgeous. It’s physically impossible.”

You can’t help but laugh, running your fingers through his hair to scratch at his scalp.

“Take me on a date first. Then we’ll talk about marriage, okay?”

“You did say forever, earlier.”

“That I did. Maybe my heart knew something my brain didn’t.”

Buck grins up at you, all blinding and giddy.

“The best man and the maid of honour, huh?”

“That old cliche,” you chuckle. “We weren’t the first, and we won’t be the last.”

“You’ll be my last, gorgeous.”

“Real smooth, Buck. Real smooth.”

“Buck,” he whispers, half in amusement, half in awe.

He could get used to this. You both could.

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