#and that maybe he feels something more for Buck

[luveline]

oh my god. steve harrington with a dreamy/luna lovegood like girlfriend would be so sweet! i feel like he would love how she’s always so kind and her head’s always in the clouds. he’d find her adorable, especially when she out of nowhere says something a little odd.

“What was that?” Steve asks. 

You aren’t talking to him, but he pretends you were. 

“I said, the sun doesn’t look very happy today.” 

Steve finds the sun, a white ache in his eyes behind a buffet of clouds. “I can’t tell.”

“Exactly.” 

Steve gets his arms under your armpits to drag you into his chest. You’re always content to be moved around, especially if it’s Steve doing the lifting. You slot yourself into his embrace unthinking. 

“I think you’d be much happier if you had a couch on the porch,” you say, “though maybe you’d suddenly like rock metal too. What do you think they have it for?” 

“Not sure. Afternoon people watching, maybe.” 

“Well, this is fun.” 

Eddie and Robin attempt to set up the sprinkler and water slide in the grass. Neither seems to have noticed that it’s too cold for this sort of play, both dedicated to the last day of summer. Usually you entertain either of them, partial to nonsense, but today you’ve stuck by Steve’s side. Probably because you’re cold. 

“I might get one, if you want one,” he says. 

“You know you can get a couch from the Salvation Army for ten bucks.” 

“And the bedbugs for free.” 

You laugh loudly, suddenly, before it chokes into a fizzy sort of giggle. “Most bugs are cute, but they give me the heebies.” 

“I don’t need any more strange creatures in bed with me, either way.” 

“You mean me.” You turn in his arms. He loves to feel it, your skin under his hands, the total ease you feel being smushed against him like two pieces of bread in the same pack. You jam yourself against him, your fingers working behind his neck. Cold. Rings tickling him, your fingernails scratching gently. “But I’m not a creature,” you murmur, “and I won’t be in your bed again, if that’s how you feel.” 

“Then who will help you fall asleep?” he asks. 

“I volunteer!” Eddie calls. 

“He looks like he gives a good back rub,” you say. 

Steve tips you away from him. “Idiot.” 

“Steve, doesn’t he?” you ask. “Eddie, come over here and rub our backs.” 

“Stay where you are,” Steve says to Eddie firmly. He pushes you away from him, trying his best not to laugh as you giggle and whine at being pushed. “Get lost.” 

“I’m going to take my shirt off now.” 

“For the back rub?” Steve asks, whiplashed. 

“No, doofus, for the water slide! Why would I take my shirt off for a back rub?” 

“I’ll show you why.” 

“I already know you’re good at them,” you say. 

“I’ll show you again.” 

You pause. A smile stretches over your lips. “Mm, okay.” 

[willmiwi]

Thought I'd analyze Eddie's reaction to Buck coming out to him bc i don't think it's given enough credit.

First thing after buck tells him tommy and buck were on a date is Eddie looking confused, I don't even think what Buck said really set at all. He made the connection of the date and the first thing he wondered was "wait. Tommy's gay?".

Then, goes the question "so .... You two were...."

And he looks... Shocked, kind of hesitant too, doesn't even end the sentence, maybe afraid he misunderstood somehow.

Doesn't matter because Buck comes to the rescue to finish it. He smiles fondly at Eddie like his hesitance is endearing and kind of like saying it's "hey it's okay, yes we were on a date, you don't need to hesitate."

Buck is immediately insecure though; it's been a second and Eddie Still looks like someone has dropped a bucket of cold water on him. I think he's more focused on how this new information shocked him than doing what one does after someone comes out to them: reassure them. It's okay though, he's just surprised, nothing weird. And so Buck asks. "Is that weird?"

And he's looking at Eddie with that analysing look, searching for something and Eddie's quick this time. Pulled out of his own head.

"No . Absolutely not." You just took me by surprise there.

Buck's still looking at him like that, like he doesn't really believe it. And so Eddie's quick with a joke too, he looks kind of nervous? From now on? Like we Needs this situation to feel lighter somehow.

It works. Buck finally relaxes and laughs.

Then, this scene:

And Eddie's just trying to reassure him, telling him what every queer person hopes to hear when they come out, "this doesn't change anything, I still love you"

But Buck.... Oh buck, looks like that's somehow Not? What he was hoping to hear? He literally pouts, breaks eyes contact and goes "that's uh. That's good to hear"

Doesn't sound like he means it though.

He goes on:

Eddie proceeds to yap on best friend @ best friend advice: If he doesn't call u back he's an idiot.

But then. THEN!!!!

Eddie's reaction is what gets me the most here so I'm getting a gif that's a bit longer so u can see the reaction he has to that line:

Again. Same reaction. But from Eddie this time. Pouts, rises his eyebrows defeated, and pointedly looks away. All while looking upset and Not all all overjoyed about his best friend is crushing on someone. Hello?

Eddie then gives him some advice about not giving up and Buck gives it right back to him. Eddie takes that opportunity to all but Run off to talk to Marisol:

I think it hits him then that as much as he wants to run, to think about this on his own without prying eyes that want an answer from him right then and there, and just, Sit with it, That this is..kinda Huge, and maybe he should just put his feelings aside for a bit and reassure Buck a bit more. Like he doesn't want there to be any hint of doubt that Eddie's not okay with this.

So he stops by the door, turns around and they hug:

That's it ! I just think this tells us so much about their relationship, especially since after this Eddie doesn't seem to want to hang out with Tommy anymore. And the few times they do he doesn't look like he's having the best time, if u compare it to before (he knew about Buck's crush).

If you got here, thank you for reading!

gif creds: @beets @livelovecaliforniadreams :)

[beecauseevan]

I would love some romantic buddie! As much as you can give me! Imo buck comes across as the more outwardly romantic/wears his heart on his sleeve kinda guy. I think eddie always wanted to be romantic but never allowed himself to be, because maybe he never felt safe enough or thought it wasn't the "manly" thing to do. So maybe he does like lots of little things to show buck how much he loves him, and something super super romantic like home cooked dinner, candles, bath etc. I mean like the cringest, most sappy romantic shit you can think of...give it all to me

Eddie steps back and surveys his work, a nervous breath escaping him. He can't afford a single mistake. This has to be flawless—it has to become one of those nights they'll always look back on with fondness. Fifty years from now, when Hildy and her AI overlords have taken over the world and even Eddie's extensive core workouts can't keep the back pain at bay anymore, the memory of tonight has to be one of those things that keep them going, along with walking chairs and arthritis meds. There's no room for anything but perfection here, because tonight has been years in the making.

As he stands there, casting a critical eye over the scene in front of him, all of those years come back to him. Six years of painful longing, crashing into Eddie like a high caliber bullet, tearing his body to pieces.

He's 31 and standing in a hospital waiting room, tired and guilty while Isabel suffers because Eddie can't get his shit together. He's 31 and Buck nods at him from across the station because he made sure Chris could come. He's 31 and Buck introduces him to Carla and a weight lifts from his shoulders and he thinks, maybe—and he's 31 and Shannon comes back and nothing else matters.

‎He's 32 and his life is in shambles and Buck saves his son from drowning, saves Eddie from himself, wanna go for the title, and Eddie wants, and maybe—but Chris is there. He's 32 and the well collapses on top of him and when he makes it out it's Buck who holds him up, and he goes to his attorney the very next day and shackles Buck to him legally, because if he can't have him physically that will have to do.

He's 33 and the world has descended into chaos and he sleeps on Buck's couch every day and he lies awake and listens to Buck's steady breathing, up on the loft, and he closes his eyes and he wonders, and he wants—but then he's 33 and Bobby tells him to take a chance on Ana and he does, because that's what a man does.

He's 33 and he's bleeding and Buck is covered in blood, might be hurt, and then the world fades to black and when he wakes up, Buck is with Taylor. He's 33 and he tells Buck he's not expendable, and Buck looks at him like maybe—he's 33 and nothing changes.

He's 34 and he can't love Ana the way he should. He's 34 and Buck tells him to break up with her, and Eddie does, and he wonders if that means, if—but then he's 34 and he's single and Buck isn't. 

He's 34 and his life falls to pieces. He's 34 and he's moved on but he hasn't, the 118 has moved on but Buck hasn't. He's 34 and he hasn't saved anyone but Buck is there, hand warm on Eddie's shoulder, steady in the face of Eddie's grief. He's 34 and Buck breaks up with Taylor and everything could change and nothing does.

He's 35 and Buck is dead and Eddie feels his ribs crack under his palms. He's 35 and 3 minutes and 17 seconds are an eternity spent in hell. He's 35 and Natalia sees Buck. He's 35 and he might as well date. He's 35 and nothing will ever, ever change between them. ‎He's 35 and he wants Buck so bad he might die from it.

He's 36 and his son is gone and he hurt another woman and Buck is dating a man. He's 36 and Buck breaks up with Tommy. He's 36 and he grabs Buck by the shoulders and kisses him until neither of them can breathe.

He's 36, and everything changes.

He's 37, now, and he's standing in his kitchen (their kitchen), and in front of him, the dining table looks like something straight from a pinterest board. The tablecloth is a dark crimson red and he used his good plates and his good silverware. In the middle of the table, a cluster of white candles illuminates the space. Next to the candles, leaving just enough distance to avoid a housefire, there's a vase filled with a dozen red roses.

It looks good. Whether or not it's perfect remains to be seen—only Buck can be the judge of that.

As if on cue, the front door opens. Eddie turns and waits, and when Buck comes through the kitchen door, Eddie is treated to the wonderful sight of his boyfriend, for once stunned beyond words, frozen in candlelight. He was visiting Maddie, and it seems that Jee-Yun got to him—there are watercolor stains on his blue shirt—but he's still the most beautiful thing Eddie has ever seen.

"What..." He looks away from the table, finally, up at Eddie, eyes wide. "Did I forget our anniversary? No, that's—that's in two months."

He's right. They're not celebrating their anniversary, or a birthday, or any other holiday. Eddie did this because Buck deserves it. There's no other reason—there doesn't need to be.

Buck deserves this, because he's had Eddie's back for seven years. Buck deserves this, because he makes Chris smile and Eddie laugh and he's saved both of their lives, more than once, in more ways than Eddie can count. Buck deserves this because he wakes Eddie up with soft kisses to his shoulder and harder kisses to his jawline and because he holds Eddie tight when they lie awake with sweat cooling on their bodies, and tighter still when they fall asleep too late. Buck deserves this because he's kind and he's smart and he makes Eddie's life better just by being in it.

Buck tells Eddie that he loves him all the time, with words and with gestures. Eddie has a harder time with it, even though he loves Buck just the same. Tonight, he wanted to show him as much.

"You didn't forget anything," Eddie assures him, and pulls out one of the chairs so Buck can sit down.

Buck does. His eyes are bright. His cheeks are rosy. Maybe that's the candlelight. Or maybe this is a first for him too.

"Chris?" he asks, as Eddie moves to the stove to get their food.

"He's with Pepa," Eddie says. "They're catching up on Hotshots. We have the house to ourselves."

Buck meets his eyes. A smirk has made its way into his stunned expression, small but striking. "That so?"

Eddie returns it with a smile of his own and comes back with two plates.

"Full disclosure," he says, "this is Bobby's steak."

There is no room for mistakes tonight. Eddie has not mastered steak yet, so he enlisted outside help. Buck smiles at him like he doesn't care, though.

"And there's tiramisu," Eddie adds. He almost stumbles as he sits down, too distracted by that smile. "For later. I got that from Cap, too."

He half expects Buck to call him a cheater (gently, jokingly, in that warmly mocking way he has, the one that makes Eddie want to kiss him until the world ends), but Buck just stares at him. He's still blushing. His foot brushes Eddie's under the table, and his fingers find Eddie's wrist.

"All of this." He waves his free hand at the candles, the flowers, the food. "Why?"

Eddie laces their fingers together and holds Buck's blue-eyed gaze.

"Because I love you," he says. "Because you deserve it. Because—I wanted to make you feel how you make me feel."

"I must make you feel pretty damn good," Buck says quietly. His hand squeezes Eddie's.

"You do," Eddie says simply, because that's not a truth he's ever struggled with. "You really do. And I wanted to give you something—good."

"It's better than good," Buck says and smiles. "It's perfect."

Eddie is 37. It's a perfect night, and the love of his life smiles at him in a kitchen filled with candlelight. He can't wait to be 38, 40, 60, 100. He can't wait to grow old with this man.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷

I'm just getting too excited reading the snippets

Thank you! Damn 186 for 🦷:

---

“Dad, can I tell you something?” Chris asks, with a little sigh, like he’s having to break something very simply down to a child.

“Uh, of course, Chris.”

“I only have one day left of being smarter than you, so I should maybe give you advice.”

“Wait, what?” Eddie asks. 

“Because I still have my wisdom teeth,” Chris explains.

Right, Eddie. Keep up. 

“That’s true,” Eddie mumbles. “It’s all downhill after today. Your brain will turn to mush.”

Chris rolls his eyes. 

“I’m just saying,” Chris presses. “I’m more wise than you still. So listen to me.”

There’s something really serious in his tone, so Eddie stops joking. 

“Okay,” he says. 

“The first person you said who made you feel comforted was Buck. Twice. That means something, Dad. I think you’re used to feeling bad and you don’t know how to do things that make you feel good.”

Eddie feels like he’s been struck. Not for the first time today. 

“So, you think I should try something different, huh?” Eddie asks, voice cracking over tears just a little. 

Chris nods. “Yep. I think whatever the opposite of what Grandma and Abuelo would say is what you should do, probably.”

Well, that’s an idea. That logic carried him from El Paso to Los Angeles. Kept him here despite their pressure for him to return. That logic wrote Buck’s name in his will instead of theirs. And none of those things have been decisions that Eddie regrets. 

“That…” Eddie exhales. “That might be really good advice.”

“Because of my wisdom teeth,” Chris says.

Eddie smiles. “Yeah, buddy. Because of your wisdom teeth, for sure.”

iv.

Buck ends up coming with them to Christopher’s surgery appointment. Eddie didn’t ask. He just sort of shows up in the morning, assuming Eddie would want someone to sit with him. He’s right, of course. Eddie knows it’s just dental surgery and comes with very little risk, but Eddie absolutely wants company. Buck’s company. 

They sit side-by-side in waiting room chairs, clutching paper cups of coffee, during the surgery. They’re the only people in the room. Eddie can hear a clock ticking. There’s a television playing the news silently. Eddie’s leg is tapping.

“Hey,” Buck says gently, hand resting on Eddie’s shoulder. “He’s going to be totally fine.”

“Yeah, I know,” Eddie nods. “It’s a simple procedure. That’s… That’s not why I’m nervous.”

Buck frowns. “Why are you nervous, then?”

Well, great question. Not one Eddie really wants to answer. 

“Uh…” Eddie struggles. His throat feels very dry. He takes another sip of coffee before answering. “I have… Well, I had a sort of crazy conversation with Christopher yesterday while grocery shopping.”

“This is why you shouldn’t grocery shop without me,” Buck says, kissing his teeth chidingly. “Always ends in chaos.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “I can remember grocery store chaos caused by you. And uh, it was actually a good conversation.”

“Yeah?”

Eddie nods. “Yeah.”

“What was it about?” Buck asks, leading the conversation because he can see Eddie is too nervous to just do it himself. 

“Uh, a lot of things,” Eddie says. “But I ended up sort of… Well, I came out to him.”

Buck’s eyebrows shoot up. He grins. “Eddie, that’s amazing! How did he take it?”

“Good,” Eddie nods. “He… Yeah, he was great.”

“Ah, man. I’m so happy to hear that. I know that was weighing on you.”

“It was,” Eddie agrees quietly.

“So, then… Why are you nervous?”

Eddie takes a deep breath. Here it goes.

“Well, Chris is a smart kid, you know?”

“Of course,” Buck replies, still confused. 

“It didn’t take him very long to ask if this meant I’m in love with you.”

Buck’s expression goes completely still. His eyes get big. Wide. Anxious. 

“Uh, wh-what… What did you tell him?” Buck stammers. 

“That I do,” Eddie whispers. His eyes flicker to the floor. He almost doesn’t want to see Buck’s reaction. 

“Oh,” Buck exhales. “And, uh… He-he was okay with that?”

Eddie nods. “Pretty much told me not to be stupid and do something about it.”

“Is that what this is?” Buck asks. 

Eddie chuckles a little breathlessly. “Not enough for you?” 

“It doesn’t hurt to be given roses or something,” Buck smirks. “A string of pearls even.”

“Well, we’re in the waiting room of a dental surgery clinic. So I can offer you…” Eddie looks around the room. “An issue of USA Today from four months ago.”

“I’ve always wanted that,” Buck says. “I just need to know about Ben and Jennifer. Do you think they’re going to make it this time?”

“I have bad news,” Eddie tells him.

Buck smiles. His eyes crinkle a little. Eddie’s not sure if they did that, back when they met. Eddie thinks, somehow, he just keeps getting more and more beautiful with every year that he knows him. He’s sitting right beside him now, all loose curls and twinkling eyes. And Eddie realizes he’s so fucking lucky. Because as nervous as he is right now, he’s not uncertain. He knows. He knows this beautiful, kind, unbelievably generous, and not nearly as funny as he thinks man loves him back. 

“I still don’t understand why you’re nervous,” Buck says softly. “Eddie, you have to know…”

“I know,” Eddie replies quickly. 

“I love you, too,” Buck says. “Like… Obviously.”

Eddie smiles. “I thought so… I just…” 

“What?” Buck asks gently. 

Fuck. Eddie doesn’t really know how to explain. 

“My son sort of psychoanalyzed me,” Eddie blurts. “And, uh… And the conclusion was… He thinks maybe I don’t make decisions that are good for me because I’m used to feeling bad.”

Buck’s jaw drops. “Chris said that?”

“Yeah, I think my parents kind of messed him up in a different way from what I did.” Eddie admits. 

“He’s not messed up, Eddie. Just hurt. That’s all.”

“See?” Eddie says. “See, it’s that. He’s right. It’s like my brain is sort of wired for guilt, and… And I don’t want it to be. I just, I’m scared I’ll screw it up with you, too.”

Buck nods, thinking. He takes a good moment to contemplate.

“Okay,” he eventually sighs. “Okay, well then I won’t let you.”

Eddie sighs. “What?”

“Yeah, I just won’t,” Buck presses. “I’m good at that. I think Bobby and I are the only people you listen to.”

Because they’re the only people close enough to Eddie to know what he wants and have his best interest at heart. They always have. 

“Buck, it’s not that simple.”

“Yes, it is,” Buck replies, turning in the seat a little so his knees are pressing into Eddie. “I-I know you, Eddie. You wouldn’t have brought this up at all if you didn’t want me to talk you into it.”

Eddie opens his mouth to object. That’s just… 

Okay, it’s completely true. He does that, doesn’t he? Waits until he’s ready for Buck to give him permission to do right by himself. He always has. 

Wow.

“We know each other better than anyone,” Buck says. “We won’t let each other be idiots.”

And that’s… Well, that’s true, too. Eddie has always been able to talk Buck down from letting things get out of hand. From spiraling. From making every problem on earth his problem. So… So maybe Buck is right. 

“Promise?” Eddie asks. 

Buck grabs his hand. “I promise.”

[master-of-junk]

Sukuna x Reader

Warning!!! ⚠️ Smut

Side note: lol I like Sukuna a little too much

————

You panted slightly, your cheeks bright red as a hand yanked your head back, saliva dripping from your chin. Sukuna smirked down at you “Aw, darling, don’t tell me you’re tired already?” You caught your breath but shook your head leaning forward onto your knees “No- it’s just a little rough…” you looked at his cock that was wet and glistening with your saliva.

He smirked pushing himself back between your soft puffy lips and began guiding your head once again “That’s it… good girl…” he breathed out watching you intently making sure you looked up at him while your mouth of was full.

How did you end up like this again?

Oh, right- You were in college. Like everyone else you were poor most days. Though, things had been tougher recently and you were trying to get a hold of some extra money. Sukuna was an investor on your college board. He helped fund various projects around campus. He was receiving a tour of the new wind tunnel the college had built with his help, when he met you. The bright-eyed, bushy tailed, nerd. At first you were nothing special write home about but something about you just grew on him. Maybe it was because you were so sweet and nice? Maybe it was because you were so honest yet innocent… maybe it was all of those things as well as the urge to ruin your kindness.

This wasn’t your standard M.O.

You didn’t actually take interest in others all too often. Or maybe you just never found the right type of man you wanted.

Sukuna pulled you up after pulling you off of him “Come here-“ the hunger and possessiveness clear in his voice as his hands wrapped around your arms and guided you. Sukuna laid back on the pile of pillows on the satin bed sheets, hushed large hands moved from your arms to your hips.

He enjoyed the way your face turned red and how you tried to look away sitting on his chest “U-Um… are you sure, Ryomen-“ he cut you off “Just say Sukuna, brat.”

You shut up and nodded. He smirked at your compliance and how willing you were to please. He had no idea that an inexperienced nerd like yourself was so desperate. Although from the way you sucked his cock he couldn’t help but feel that there was some sort of desire you held back. The innocent nerd was just a facade and he wanted to break it.

Sukuna wanted to hear you beg for him. He wanted to see your face twisted with pleasure. He craved it. Sure, he liked the willing little slave you were but he wanted to see you hungry.

Grabbing your hips gently his tongue gently pressed against the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs making you moan out “Sukuna…” he hummed, enjoying the taste of your cunt. He smirked when his tongue hit the already wet folds.

You were enjoying this too much. He wasn’t complaining though, happy you were this wet just off of him taking his own pleasure from you. He smirked licking your clit once again “Such a good girl-“ he was suddenly cut off though when your hips suddenly snapped forward and your hand shot to the top of his head tangling in the pink curly locks “S-Sukuna…” he stared up at you, almost in awe seeing your expression. You didn’t look so innocent anymore as you peered down at him moving your other hand “Keep doing that.” He felt your hips rut against his tongue.

He only stared for a moment longer before complying with your order. A new hunger burning within him as your sudden dominance. He felt your hips twitch more. He watched your expression twist as you began moving your hips “Yeah, yeah, yeah-“ your grip tightened his hair- he realized you were damn near suffocating him, but he didn’t want you to stop. He watched as you rode his face more roughly chasing after your orgasm “Fuck!” Your hips bucked sharply, Sukuna grasped your hips harsher working his tongue against your clit repeatedly making you throw your head back sucking in a sharp breath as you gripped on hand into his hair and the other tangled with his fingers on your hip. Once you started breathing out harshly, your body twitching mindlessly, Sukuna picked you up easily and threw you against the bed. A smirk clear on his face “Someone’s a little needy today, hm?”

You eyed him wearily, your shy expression returning as you laid belly down on the bed “Um…” he watched as you perked your ass up a little bit “I-I’m sorry…” he instantly crawled over you, pushing himself into you. Sinking all the way down making you let out a groan “It’s okay, darling.” He whispered into your ear as his weight kept you down against the bed “I’ll give you what you really want.” You turned your head enough to see him smirking at you before he drew back and roughly thrusted into you. The small breaths fell from your lips, your hands began gripping the sheets as Sakuna took full enjoyment of your gummy walls taking him so willingly.

He was done yet though “Mm, like a bitch in heat-“ he went a little harder making your grip tighten “So willing to take me- Such a good girl-“ His hand gripped the back of your neck and shoved you down into the bedding and pillows. He heard a muffled yelp and eased up for a second, worried he had pushed you a little too far. He eased up letting you moved your head upward for a free breath however that worry was erased when your hips perked up more, and your legs spread wider letting him gain more access “Please use me-“ you gasped with your one free breath, your expression hungry and pleading as if he was the only one who could help you reach your climax. A wide smirk crossed his face as he shoved your head back down and let loose. On hand holding you down the other grabbing your hip hardly to help brace your hips against his. He felt you squirm and yelp out into the pillows “Harder- p-please! Fuck-“

He was surprised you wanted more but was all too happy to comply and abused your cervix to his hearts content.

However he underestimated how much fun he’d have in seeing your shy innocent expression broken. His hands moved letting you up slightly before his body weight came down onto again from behind. His cock still thrusting against your velvet walls but his arms wrapped around your neck and shoulders, as if hugging you from behind as he growled into your ear. You felt him thin inside of you, that was enough to send you off the edge “Keep going! Keeping going please Sukuna! I’m almost-“ you were cut off as you felt the waves of pleasure wash over you. Making you forget your words as you held onto Sukuna tightly. He felt you clenching around him making him growl until suddenly his hips snapped against yours. You let out a high pitch quick yelp at the sudden thrust but understood as you felt gripped you tightly keeping you in place as he came. He breathed out harshly after a few moments and slowly pulled out before collapsing next to you.

The both of you sat there breathing… you were still laying face down. Legs and body twitching from the waves of pleasure you just felt. You didn’t usually do this- but you had to admit that Sukuna was truly something else and he had given you something else.

You leaned up onto your elbows and looked towards him mumbling as you turned red once again, your senses coming back to you “I’m sorry… I know you don’t like being told what to do…” you fumbled with your hands… Sukuna barked out a laugh before grabbing your face and kissing your lips making you look surprised “This is the only time you may ask things of me, brat.”

His phone began ringing making him sigh and roll his eyes, clearly unhappy that his time with you was uninterrupted. However he pulled away from you grabbing the phone and pulling on a robe “What?” His voice snapped as he walked away leaving you in the bed…

Though as you laid there, you felt your chest twist a little… he had never kissed you like that before…

[itsnotbird]

Orphic ~ File 7

Selcouth (adj.) ; Unfamiliar, rare, strange, and yet marvelous

Bucky!Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: tw for mentions of past trauma, Bucky being obsessive hehe

Previous part here

Masterlist pinned on my blog

Bucky stayed away.

Far away.

He hopes that it might help the fever growing inside of him, that he could sleep soundly if he forgot the way you sound while breathing. It worked in his favor, he hadn’t been needed at the compound for a week, so it was just him and his melancholy apartment.

The distance didn’t cut the thought of you out entirely.

That was the hard part.

And while he walked down the street and thought about how you were handling the colder weather coming, you were in some sort of agony.

It had the same buzz as when you were going through the horrid withdrawal, just felt a little different. You grew more comfortable in your home, you grew closer with your new family, and the days moved by without your James.

It’s the end of the week without him and you sit in the spiny chair in the meeting room with the team, listening to the new plan for the mission. You’ve slowly been understanding and remembering things, helpful things that lead to a potential deal happening in the city.

They decide who would best suit this mission, who will go undercover, who will wait in the get away van.

Your knees are curled to your chest, nails picking at the rips in your jeans and you suddenly have the urge to speak.

“I want to go.”

The room comes to a halt.

“Holy shit, she can speak.” Sam says with bewilderment.

“Of course I can speak, I just didn’t like to…I’m fine now.” You explain.

They all have a peculiar look, but they go with it.

“Blue…are you sure it’s smart for you to go?” Tony asks, mind ridden with concern.

You look over at him. “I’m in control of my power, I won’t hurt anyone.”

Steve adds in. “Are you sure you can jump into action if something happens?”

You giggle. “I was a huntress for over a decade, I think I can handle business.”

You sit straight, then continue. “Besides, I want to do more to bring this whole shindig down.”

Maybe it’s the fact they are still so stunned that you’re speaking, or something else, but they seem to comply easily.

“Alright…Blue will go with the Cap and Romanoff undercover.” Tony declares. “We need to get you in the training room…just to make sure you know what you’re doing.”

You gave him a look, knowing well that he just wanted to throw things and watch you deflect them.

And it seems that was the case for the rest of the Avengers.

“Anyone else scared?” Sam asks, standing behind the protective glass with the rest as you pull your hair up and shrug your ugly sweater off.

“Five bucks says Cap throws in the towel.” Nat bets with Clint.

“Oh you are so on.” He whispers back. “Let’s hope she doesn’t get too hurt.”

Wide eyed, they watch you hold your own in hand to hand combat with Steve, but one leg sweep and your one the ground.

The team cringes.

Then mutter to each other as you jump right back up and get a serious look in your eye.

“She’s pissed now.” Sam laughs, cheering you on.

Steve may be an advanced fighter, he’s twice your size, but he gets tossed like a rag doll with the move of your hand. A line of glowing blue strikes him, he falls backwards.

“Very impressive.” Wanda compliments.

Steve continues to come at you, and Tony laughs hysterically as he gets bashed around.

“Beautiful!” Tony claps, making you proudly smile at the praise. “What else can you do?”

“Uh…I don’t want to hurt him…” You say, unsure.

“What? He’s fine. You’re fine, right?” He turns to Steve.

Steve rolls his aching shoulder, panting slightly as he nods. “I can do this all day, hit me.”

You look at him, making sure he’s okay before you twitch your fingers, sending a bolt of electricity straight to him.

“Oh shit!” Sam exclaims, laughing in amusement as Steve stands there, twitching with bared teeth. “I know that doesn’t feel good.”

Steve falls to his knees, you immediately stop and come before him. Hand on his cheek, you ease the pain you just caused him. He breathes with relief.

“How do you do that?” He asks, getting the strength to stand.

“I can make you do anything I want you to.” You confess.

“Make him do something!” Tony urges, way too excited about this.

“Take mercy on me.” Steve whispers, a half goofy smile.

You rub his cheek, returning the smile. Looking him in the eye, your eyes glow an entrancing blue. Immediately, Steve stops any movement, completely still as you whisper to him.

“Steve…are you listening?” You ask softly.

He nods mechanically.

“Go hug Tony.” You instruct.

Like an obedient soldier, he turns and marches straight for Tony.

“No, stay the hell away from me.” Tony steps away.

Steve just follows, causing the man to panic. The team watching laughs as Tony shouts for you to reel him back in.

“Steve. Stop.” You call.

His feet halt.

“Okay…that’s scary.” Banner agrees, watching as you brake the trance.

Steve shakes his head, almost like he’s clearing the brain fog. Then, he looks to Tony. “Yeah, she’s all yours, I give up.”

“Ha!” Nat laughs in Clints face, holding her palm out for the cash.

Clint pouts as he gives her the money.

You’re shooting at the practice targets as Steve joins the rest of them. They look to him in anticipation for his words.

“Yeah.” Steve nods. “She’ll do just fine.”

Then he nurses his hurt ribs.

- - - -

A deep breath in, he steps through the first doors of the living quarters.

It was after dinner, maybe you were already asleep?

That’s a wishful thought that he doesn’t fully like.

If you were asleep, he couldn’t watch you from a distance, he couldn’t get that faint scent of vanilla and cherry that followed you.

But if you were locked in your room, he could keep his dignity.

But he’s never been a lucky man, that’s why when he makes it to the common space, he sees you very much so awake, sitting in front of the tv, watching what looked like The Breakfast Club.

Now if it were just you, he’d linger for a second, watch you, maybe sit beside you. But it’s much worse, you’re leaned into Steve with his arm around your shoulders, and Wanda is on your other side, head leaned onto Vision’s shoulder.

Bucky’s jaw sets, he glares at the scene that looks too much like a double date.

Nat comes in with a bowl of popcorn, settles on the carpet right under you. And Bruce comes to swap a few jokes with her, then joins her.

And Tony of all people, is sat in the sectional, actually enjoying the movie. Pepper, who the team hardly sees because she’s super woman and runs a business while mothering a daughter she just put to bed, comes in and the team rejoices, all smiles as she sits with her husband.

What the hell was this? A love affair?

Sam approaches behind the soldier who is glaring daggers.

“Aw, a little love fest, how cute.” He snickers, trying to rile Bucky up. “Even Clint went home to his wife, everyone has someone, huh? Oh, except you.”

“You’re one to talk.” Bucky argues.

“Well I’m a little less pathetic about it.”

He turns to look at the grinning man. “Trust me, you’re plenty pathetic.”

Then he turns back to you, how you laugh at a scene and lay more comfortably on Steve.

Like a devil on his shoulder, Sam is there, whispering.

“Aren’t they just cozy? You think Steve’s gonna make a move?”

Bucky’s metal fist clenches.

“I bet you, the next time he laughs, he’s gonna pull her a little closer…surprised she isn’t nuzzling into his neck now.”

“Sam.” Bucky warns. “If you don’t shut your mouth, I’m going to dismember your limbs.”

“Nah uh, you’re not supposed to hurt people, Doctor’s orders.” Sam states, laughing for a moment before he gets serious.

“If you want to be in Steve’s spot, then you need to man up and make a move.” He says.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Bucky shakes his head.

“Oh really? So it’s not killing you that she’s close with him? You don’t want to rip your best friend off the couch right now?”

He hates that Sam’s right.

Bucky sighs, then relaxes his body. “Wouldn’t make a difference if I make a move, she doesn’t need me, she’s got enough problems to deal with. I got enough problems to deal with. Besides, she has Steve.”

Sam chuckles again. “Very poetic, man, but that was a dumb reason. And have you read her file? The girl has attachment issues, she’s close with everyone she feels safe with, doesn’t mean she has a thing for them.”

“No.” Bucky corrects. “I haven’t read her file, but apparently everyone else has.”

You lean down to ask Nat a question about the movie, and your hand rests on Steve’s knee as you do so.

Bucky’s had enough.

He leaves, walks off in the direction of his room quickly, making him a shadow.

But you feel his energy move past and you turn your head quickly, trying to find him. You only see his retreating form.

Your mood immediately deflates.

Wanda looks over at you as you slump back into the couch, questioning you silently. You just put on a smile and nod, showing her you were fine.

You weren’t fine, you had an ache that festered and festered inside of you.

Bucky wasn’t much better, sitting alone in his room for hours while he listened to the movie end and everyone settle in, going off to bed.

What catches his attention is the folder that slides under his door, a note from Sam on it that reads ‘Try to understand her the way we do’.

He crumbles it up and tosses it.

Sitting at his desk, Bucky holds the file in his hand and it’s heavy, weighted.

Slowly, he opens it.

And the air gets kicked from his lungs.

Evidence photos, countless marks and bruises, scars. There’s countless pages from your therapist, write ups from agents who you spoke with, words from Nick Fury himself who is fond of you.

Attachment issues, abandonment issues

…self destructive tendencies…

…unstable signs… night terrors…relapse of memory

Follows orders well…very intelligent…

Can be triggered by mentions of her past traumas.

Subject to panic attacks.

He feels sick, reading all of it.

And much like your actions to his file, he rereads yours multiple times until he doesn’t feel like he’s going to pass out.

It keeps him up, he lays on the floor next to his bed and thinks over everything.

When he thinks he’s exhausted enough, he shuts his eyes, only for a migraine to hit.

Yet another lasting effect from his past.

He lays there miserable for a moment too long before pulling sweatpants on and going to the kitchen, searching for something simple as Ibuprofen…that he’ll take five of them just so it will make a dent in his system.

He chugs a glass of water, then goes to sit on the couch in front of the large window in the common room. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he almost doesn’t notice the figure going into the kitchen.

Your steps are extremely light, but a blue orb follows you, illuminating your path, so he knows it’s you.

In the darkness, he sits completely still. The cloud cover moves away and the moonlight seeps in to paint him a shade of light blue.

You startle as you see him, water sloshing in your glass.

He doesn’t say a word, just watches you pause and read him.

A shirt swallows your frame, he can barely see the plaid boxers you wear.

“Hello, James.” You greet.

“It’s really ominous when you say that.” He states back, rubbing his temple now.

“Are you sick?” You ask, fiddling with the orb above you, letting it fade out.

“Just a migraine, I’ll live.” He says in a tone that gives way to his discomfort.

You come forward, setting your glass on the coffee table and stand before him.

He looks up in question. “Not any less ominous, doll.” He sighs, looking away and missing the way his nickname affects you.

“I can help.” You say. “…Won’t you let me?”

His head pounds further at the deja vu, because even though you’ve never asked him that, he’s heard those words before in his dreams.

His lips part, but no words come out.

Cautiously, you sit beside him, your touch gentle as you turn his face to you.

He watches you with those round blue eyes, feeling his heart beat wonky.

You hold your fingers an inch from the center of his forehead, and he’s further illuminated by the glow of blue. You hum, feeling the pain he feels.

“What…what are you doing?” He asks in a tone that comes out softer than intended.

“I’m just…feeling you, and trying to make it better.”

“You aren’t permanently damaged, you have feelings, James.” Dr Raynor had told him. “It’s a possibility that you are enamored by this woman.”

He isn’t sure if that’s the word. But he feels something rising in him, it’s heavy on his lungs, it makes him feel warm. Perhaps because no one has done a caring act for him in a long time, or maybe it’s because he can feel his soul reaching out and tangling itself in yours. It’s obsessive and caring and entirely strange, but it’s not wrong.

“And what do you feel?” He asks, his throat bobbing.

Your eyebrows drawn, you look into his eyes. “Just you.”

“Is it terrible?” He asks, not any hint of sarcasm.

You shake your head, pulling the pain from him, soothing his head. “You could never be terrible, I don’t think.”

Fuck. You are entirely strange and rare and marvelous.

He breathes clearer as the pain is gone. He reaches out, softly grasping your wrist and it earns a small gasp from you.

Then his palm is meeting yours like he needs to see if you’re one in the same. His touch is warm, you watch the way his hand is considerably more larger than yours.

You slow his heart out of fear that it might burst.

“Tell me why you’re always in my head.” He asks in a husky and breathless tone.

“You first.” You whisper.

He takes your hand, pressing his lips to your palm and you stop breathing entirely.

The feeling in you is new, one you’ve never felt. But he’s sitting too close, looking too good, being so gentle, you have an urge to…cry?

You watch him carefully, dissecting every move.

In truth, Bucky isn’t sure what he’s doing but he knows he wants to. He pressed the tips of your fingers to his lips, trying to understand what’s happening behind your eyes. As he pulls your hand away, it’s like your body moves on its own. You lean forward, rushing your lips to his before you can process what’s happening. You’ve kissed men in your career, all out of business, never for pleasure. This is different, this is an invisible force that wants you to latch onto him and not let go.

Bucky’s eyes widen as you kiss him almost harshly, it short circuits his brain. He can’t even process what to do before you’re ripping yourself away, completely spooked.

Not knowing exactly what to say, you just mutter an apology and rush away, back to your room.

Bucky’s left in the darkness, skin tingling.

[exhuastedpigeon]

Lemme help with those Hockey AUs...

👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽

🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒

Kenna I knew I could count on you.

39 for 👨🏽(ps this fic was inspired by your manip of hockey player Eddie with a moustache)

Where Buck’s mustache is still pretty light, Eddie’s is dark and lush and honestly, Buck wants to put his mouth on it. 

Which is not the way he’s supposed to think about his teammate. 

Even if that teammate is also Buck’s secret husband. Emphasis on the secret part. While they were out to the team and their family and friends, they weren’t out publicly at the advice of their agent and the Kings front office. 

But Buck might accidentally out them this November if he didn’t get himself under control. It was just, Eddie looked kind of insanely hot with a mustache. This wasn't the first November he’d known Eddie, in fact this wasn’t even the first November where he’d been in a relationship with Eddie. It was just, this November something seemed different. 

“Why are you staring at me,” Eddie asked with a laugh on November 5th. His mustache was already looking thick and sexy, unlike Buck’s which was still a little patchy and definitely too blond to look good right now. 

“I like the mustache,” Buck said with a shrug, trying (and failing) to sound casual about it. 

“Oh, you do?” Eddie stopped buttoning his shirt so he could turn around and look at Buck directly instead of in the mirror. 

“Y-yeah,” Buck couldn’t take his eyes off of it and here in the safety of their bedroom he was allowed to look, so why should he stop. 

“If you managed to keep out of the box tonight, I’ll let you do whatever you want to my mustache.”

“Whatever I want?”

“Well, within reason,” Eddie laughed. “We have to get on a plane and fly to Boston tomorrow morning.”

“Okay, I can stay out of the box,” Buck said confidently, even though there was a very good chance he was lying. It wasn’t his fault they were playing the Ducks. Everyone knew the Ducks sucked, that was just a fact of life. The sky is blue. Eddie Diaz is the love of Evan Buckley’s life. The Ducks stopped being cool in 2006 when they changed their name from the Mighty Ducks to just the Ducks. 

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Eddie laughed and pressed a kiss to Buck’s mouth. Buck had expected the mustache to tickle, but he found he actually liked the feeling of it against his skin. Oh god, did he have a mustache kink that had somehow only now unlocked in him?

(He didn’t manage to stay out of the box, but Eddie let it slide because Buck had only gotten thrown in the box after he’d dropped gloves with Jonah Greenway after he ran Chimney in the crease.) 

–

“Someone on Twitter called Eddie’s mustache the gayest thing they’ve ever seen in the NHL and, this is a direct quote, that’s impressive because hockey is the most homoerotic sport to ever exist,” Chimney said on November 13th. They were on the world’s shortest flight from Long Island to Philly and Chimney was entertaining them by reading funny tweets about the team. 

“Everything I do is gay,” Eddie said without opening his eyes. He’d played over thirty-five minutes in their game the night before after Millsy had blocked a shot with his face, so Eddie was so exhausted that Buck could feel it radiating off of him. 

It wasn’t like Buck hadn’t played an extra few minutes last night too, but Eddie was a left handed defenceman and so was Millsy, so Eddie had done a lot of double shifting. It had paid off, they’d won the game by one goal. 

“Is your mustache this season extra glorious and sexy this year because you’re fully embracing your gay-ness?” Chimney asked and coming from anyone else Buck knew Eddie would have been a little annoyed, but Chimney was - well he was Chimney. He was always in their corner even when he was pissed at them. 

“Probably,” Eddie smiled, eyes still closed. “Maybe I’ll dress up as Freddie Mercury and post a picture saying we have more than just a mustache in common.”

Buck’s brain short circuited for a second at the mental image of Eddie dressed up like Freddie Mercury, but he was thankfully pulled from that thought before it got not safe for work when Chimney spoke again.

and 39 for 🏒 under the cut

They’re tied 1-1 in the third period against the Ducks when Buck lays a hit on Smith along the boards in the natural zone, knocking him off the puck long enough for Eddie and his fucking beautiful hands to gain possession. Buck grins at Smith as he pushes off of him and follows behind his defense partner, entering the zone two seconds after him. Buck back checks the Duck’s defender that’s coming up behind him to keep him away from the puck and give Eddie another second to put the puck on net. 

And here’s the thing, Buck knows their team is good - they’re the second best team in the western conference right now. It’s like Eddie was the missing piece they’d needed to really take them up to the next level, but in the middle of a game he isn’t thinking about that. All he’s thinking about is that he needs to give the guys the best chance they have to score. Eddie sends the puck back to Mateo and screens the goalie as Mateo passes the puck to Buck at the point to reset the play. 

It’s like it happens in slow motion - Buck takes a shot from the point, not because he thinks he’s going to score, but because he wants to get the puck to the net so they can try to score on the rebound. Except the rebound doesn’t come. Instead, Eddie tips Buck’s shot, redirecting it over Gibson’s shoulder on his stick side, sending the puck into the back of the net.

The ref signals that it’s a goal and before the horn can sound, Eddie is on him, practically tackling him to the ice in celebration. Buck wraps his arms around Eddie on instinct, holding him close as TK, Paul, and Mateo crash into them.

"You're a fucking beauty, Buckley," Eddie says, his mouth pressed against Buck neck in a hug.

They manage to hold onto the lead and when Chim insists on taking everyone out for a drink after because they held onto the lead and didn’t let their defensive play slip even when they were winning. Buck says yes without second thought. He’s expecting most of the younger guys to come out with them, the ones without wives and girlfriends at home. The ones without kids waiting for them. 

He’s expecting Eddie to say he needs to get home to Chris. He isn’t expecting Eddie to say, “I’m in.”

“Is Carla staying late?” Buck asks quietly as they change after cooling down and showering. 

“Shannon’s got him tonight,” Eddie says just as quietly. Buck’s pretty sure the only other person who knows about Eddie’s complicated relationship with his ex is Coach, for some reason being in on that secret, to have earned that kind of confidence from Eddie, makes Buck warm all over. 

“Well then it’s dad’s night out, huh?” Buck grins and slings an arm around Eddie’s shoulders even though they both smell fucking rank and they should really hit the showers. 

“There aren’t many nights where we win, we don’t have a game for five whole days, and I don’t have to rush home to relieve the babysitter,” Eddie grins right back. “Let’s go get fucking hammered, Buck.”

They’re in the locker room surrounded by their teammates. There’s at least two reporters in the room with them right now. Buck can see Ravi has his phone out and is probably live on Instagram. None of it matters, not with the way Eddie’s smiling at him. Not with the way Eddie pulls Buck into his orbit and keeps him there whenever he’s in the room. 

“I-I think everyone is going to get hammered,” Buck says, eyes on Eddie’s mouth because he can’t seem to stop himself. 

“Yeah, but I’ll be doing it with you,” Eddie says and then he ducks out from under Buck’s arm with a laugh. “Come on, we gotta shower. I bet you smell worse than Sid’s lucky jock.”

make me write

[sarahowritesostucky]

Art: @hopelessartgeek

📖 "Medically Necessitated" Ch 10

Rated: Explicit Pairing: Bucky x Steve Tags: a/b/o, age gap, past rape, rape recovery, trauma recovery, pregnancy, medical trauma, hurt/comfort, mentions of CSA, religious fundamentalism, first time, gender dysphoria, male omegas having all the bits (peen & vagine) Summary: After a medical emergency brings him into the ER, Bucky escapes the religious cult he's been raised in. It's up to Steve, nurse practitioner and omega sex & repro specialist, to see him through a medically supervised heat.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter! Story masterlist

10. Bea

Bucky and Steve negotiate what kind of relationship they're going to have.

Over the course of the following week, Bucky makes good use of the purchases from Twig ‘n’ Tuft. He arranges his new things in an obviously good mood, humming happily as he works. A few things get set aside for later use in the closet, but most of his efforts go towards Steve’s bed, changing out the sheets (they’re silkier now) and blankets (puffier), fluffing the pillows (there are a lot more now), and arranging everything just how he likes.

He’s nesting.

Steve stands in the doorway and watches for a bit, heart bursting with emotions that he knows are directly related to the bond. No way could he feel this utterly content and pleased just from watching a simple act of nesting, otherwise. His omega is feeling safe and comfortable in his home. Steve is providing for him and taking care of him, and it’s making Bucky happy. That’s all Steve wants.

“Need any help?” he asks, not surprised when Bucky says no. Omegas like to nest on their own. Steve is sure he’d mess up whatever Bucky’s nonsensical system is and wind up getting his head bitten off. “Okay then,” he says. “I’m gonna get ready for bed, so …” He grabs some pajamas from the dresser and heads in the direction of the bathroom, intending to brush his teeth and change. “You’re sure you want me in here?” he double checks. “I’m more than happy to take the couch again.”

Bucky rolls his eyes at him. “No Steve. That was pathetic. Six-foot man on a five-foot couch. Stop asking or you’re gonna give me a complex. I want you in here with me.”

Steve smiles gently. “Okay, Buck. Okay.” He goes into the bathroom and shuts the door behind himself. When he comes back out and climbs into the now-nested bed, he has a moment of indecision, unsure how close he should be, if Bucky wants his space, or if maybe Steve should try to touch—

Bucky scoots back to spoon directly against him, his back to Steve’s chest and a large pillow hugged in front of himself. “Mmm.”

Cautiously, Steve lets his arm drape over Bucky’s waist. “This okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Bucky sighs. He wiggles in place a little, settling. “Steve?”

“Mm?”

“... Thanks.” Bucky’s hand finds Steve’s where it rests just over his waist and gives a small squeeze. “For helping me. For everything. I’m glad I’m here with you.”

Steve’s heart melts into something useless and gooey, and he lets go of whatever awkwardness he’d still been holding onto. He pulls Bucky more securely against him and nuzzles into the back of his hair. “You’re welcome, Honey. I want you here. It’s gonna be okay.”

Bucky hums and cuddles further back against him. Later, once he’s dozed off, he purrs.

The next morning, Steve is still half-asleep when he’s suffused by the scent of happy, pregnant omega. He hums, vaguely aware that he’s surrounded by soft, good things. With his eyes still closed, he pulls the softness closer, smiling and nosing into that inherently pleasant scent. He feels so good, turned on and warm and safe. Mate, he thinks dreamily, rolling his hips once, and then again because it feels so pleasurable. Soft and good omega, mmm …

“Steve?” Bucky’s sleep-slurred voice. “Mm, whuddryadoin’?”

Steve wakes and his eyes fly open. He freezes in place, mortified as he realizes that he’s been rubbing his morning erection against Bucky’s boxer-clad ass for God only knows how long. “Oh, shit.” He hears Bucky’s low chuckle, but is still horrified at himself. “Sorry!” he hurries, removing his hands. “Sorry, sorry.”

He’s pulling away, but Bucky turns over in the bed and follows after him. He looks barely awake himself, his hair a mess and his eyes opened to puffy slits. He burrows in against Steve’s chest, rubbing his face on his tee shirt. “S’okay,” he mumbles. “You smell good.” He’s silent after that, and a minute later, his quiet snoring lets Steve know that he’s fallen back to sleep.

Steve untenses and allows himself to hold Bucky again—at first hesitantly, and then with more confidence. He lets his head fall back onto the pillow, his nose near Bucky’s hair. He closes his eyes and falls asleep.

The next time he wakes, it’s to Bucky kissing him on the mouth. Steve inhales and pulls back. “Buck, what’re you doing?”

Bucky blinks. “Kissing you.”

Well yeah, Steve wants to say. He feels bad for his lack of reaction when he sees Bucky’s expression begin to shutter.

“Am I not allowed to?” he asks. “Do you … do you not want that with me?”

Steve exhales. “No, Buck. It’s not that. I just don’t want you to feel like—”

“Like I have to,” Bucky says. “I know.” He moves closer, until their chests are touching. “I know you don’t want me to feel forced or … or coerced or whatever. But I don’t.” Carefully, watching Steve’s reactions, he leans in to kiss him again. When their lips meet, Steve’s stomach flutters with nerves. Bucky kisses him gently, and it’s so sweet and tender that it almost aches. Steve forces himself not to wrap his arms around Bucky’s waist again, not to press his leg in between Bucky’s legs and turn into him, push him down into the sheets like he wants to.

But he does kiss back.

They talk about it over breakfast. Steve is in the kitchen making eggs and sausage, and Bucky’s curled up in a corner of the couch with one of his nesting blankets. The tv is set to low volume on a local morning news program. Bucky’s the one who initiates the conversation.

“So, I’m your registered omega now.”

Steve tenses where he’s standing by the stove. “Oh. Yeah. Um …sorry.”

Bucky makes a face. “I’m the one who signed off on it. Why should you be sorry?”

“I dunno,” Steve mumbles. He looks down and focuses on shuffling the sausages around with the spatula he’s holding. Really, there’s a whole lot he’s sorry about. Bucky was a trauma survivor in need of help, and in very short order he’s been impregnated, bonded, and legally bound to an alpha he barely knows. Steve doesn’t know how to explain to Bucky what an injustice that is. “This all just happened so fast,” he says. “I don’t want you to feel like you don’t have choices.”

The tv clicks off, and the next thing Steve knows, Bucky is standing on the other side of the kitchen island, giving him a stern look. “Steve, stop.”

“Stop?” He glances down at the sausages. Stop…cooking?

“Stop feeling guilty about this," Bucky says, crossing his arms and leveling Steve with a look. “It makes me sad and I don’t like it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He nods. “Look, I’ve been given choices out the wazoo, lately. Everybody back at the hospital made it perfectly clear to me that I didn’t have to go with you. But that’s what I wanted. I like you and I trust you, and you’re the father of my baby.”

Steve’s heart stutters in his chest at hearing it said aloud like that. Holy shit, he really is going to be a father, isn’t he? Holy shit, how the hell is he going to do that? He clears his throat and opens his mouth to say something, but Bucky says,

“And we’re bonded, aren’t we?”

“Yeah.” Steve remembers the eggs and hurries to give them a swirl in their pan. “Ah, yeah. We are.”

Bucky nods decisively. “So, I want to be in a relationship with you. A real one, including sex.”

Steve stops, spatula held midair in surprise. “You … what?”

“You, me, living here,” Bucky gestures around the apartment. “I know you’re not going to make me be physical with you, but I want to be.”

Steve’s heart is beating fast inside his chest now. He licks his lips. “Buck, you … you’re a minor. You're eighteen.” That seems like the most obvious problem to him, but Bucky just rolls his eyes.

“Almost nineteen. My birthday’s soon.”

Steve doesn’t know how to break it to him that this doesn’t exactly erase the massive age difference between them. “I’m thirty-one, Honey.” He struggles for what to say next, and of course Bucky mistakes his awkwardness for rejection.

He visibly draws back into himself. “If you don’t like me like that,” he hedges, “or if you aren’t really attracted to me, I wish you’d just say so. I can handle it, but I just need to know what we—”

“No, no. I do. I like you, Buck.” Steve hurriedly covers the pans with their respective lids and flicks both burners off, stepping around the island to pull Bucky into his arms. “And you’re beautiful, Honey. You’ve got to know that.” He hugs him, and Bucky all but melts against him, resting his cheek on Steve’s shoulder. The closeness instantly feels right. Steve can feel the omega relaxing at his words, his scent lightening back to something pleasant. He sighs. All his overthinking things has just left Bucky feeling unwanted, and that couldn’t be further from the truth. “I guess you can tell that I have some hang-ups,” he mutters.

Bucky scoffs. “Yeah. You worry too much.”

Yeah, he does. But Steve shrugs. He can’t help the second guessing and caution that comes so naturally to him at this point. He’s been trained ad-nauseam to be a victim’s advocate, to never take advantage. “I just want to make you happy,” he admits, giving Bucky a gentle squeeze. “I guess I need to start trusting you to be able to tell me how to do that.”

Bucky hums happily. “Yeah. Good.” He pulls back just enough to meet Steve’s eyes, and he smiles. Then, pointedly, he leans in and kisses him. It’s only a brief kiss, more a brush of lips than anything else, but it makes Steve’s skin tingle with pleasure. Bucky pulls back check, “So now I can kiss you any time I want, right?”

Steve forces a smile. “Yeah Buck. You can kiss me.”

Bucky kisses him once more, then lets him go. “And do other stuff,” he says happily, just as Steve is reaching up to grab plates out of the cabinet.

He freezes. “Oh. Um ...”

“Oh come on, Steve. You’ve fucked me six ways to Sunday already!”

Steve busts out in a surprised laugh, but he can feel his face heating at the intense visual memory that hits him: Bucky, in the heat suite, naked and moaning and coming undone. Steve shakes his head and grabs the spatula back up. “Jesus Buck. Come on over here and get your food.”

Bucky obeys with a smirk, and they heap their plates high with scrambled eggs and sausage links and sit at opposite ends of the couch. Their feet tangle in the middle as they eat. Bucky chews thoughtfully for a while and then says, out of the blue and with determination, “I should learn to cook.”

Steve grimaces down at his plate. “That bad, huh?”

“What? Oh, no!” Bucky laughs and eats more sausage. “No, this is great. I was just thinking how I could make you breakfast. Pancakes and stuff. Omelets. I mean, since you probably don’t have time to do it yourself when you have to get to work in the mornings. Right?"

Steve blinks, taken aback. “Wow that’s … that’s really sweet, Buck.” Bucky smiles and looks back down at his plate, and Steve says, “I still have the next few days off from work. We could try to get your school situation figured out, if you want?”

Bucky looks wary of this idea. “I dunno, Steve. I was always homeschooled. I don't …” He shifts uncomfortably. “I don’t know if I’m very smart.”

Steve tuts in disapproval. “Of course you’re smart. Just because you might not know certain facts doesn’t make you unintelligent. Remember what I told you?”

“Yeah I know. Bees pollinate flowers,” Bucky mumbles, his discomfort obvious. He’s still embarrassed about his past.

"Hey," Steve offers gently. He nudges Bucky’s socked foot with his own. “That’s what we’re gonna do. We’ll spend the last few days of my leave figuring out a schedule for you, okay? I’ll help you.” The past few days have gone quickly, eaten up by tv marathons, snuggle sessions, and walks around the neighborhood to familiarize Bucky with the immediate area where Steve lives. “We can map out where your sister’s new place is, where you’re going to go for therapy. I’ll even investigate how you might go about taking the GED, if you want. They have study materials. Shouldn’t be hard to figure out.” He keeps nudging Bucky’s foot with his until he gets a little smile from the kid. “You’ll get a transit pass for the train and the bus. You can be totally independent, scoot all over the city if you want.”

Bucky hums and tucks back into his food, but Steve can tell that he’s pleased by the prospect.

Steve still has the next few days off from work, the tail-end of what is officially titled as his “Registered New Mate Leave.”

Steve is forced to explain to—an understandably confused—Bucky, that even though “mates” really is just a social construct and not a true physical thing, the government in New York still uses the term in some of its policies and legislation. “I know it’s contradictory,” he apologizes, when Bucky first perks up at hearing him say the words ‘mate leave’. “It’s stupid, I know. But the important thing is that I have time off where I can help you get settled, yeah?”

Bucky agrees with a tiny nod (and later, a quietly-murmured: “It’s not stupid. I don’t mind being your mate,” which makes Steve fluster but which Bucky also says quietly enough and standing far away enough that Steve can pretend he didn’t hear him say it).

He buys Bucky a transit card and helps him learn how to use the app for the city bus system and the train on his phone, then they decide to take a practice trip together, riding the orange and then the purple line out to the address in Queens where Rebecca's new apartment complex is.

Steve sits next to Bucky on the train and watches as he spends the ride downloading various apps for things like GrubHub and Candy Crush onto his phone. It’s a little hard for Steve to remember that Bucky grew up in a restrictive and backwards cult, when he’s sitting there witnessing the kid take to the modern world like a fish takes to water.

Rebecca’s apartment is all the way out in Flushing. Steve makes a reference to The Nanny, which Bucky of course doesn’t get, because he didn’t grow up watching 90’s cable TV. So Steve promises to add it to their already massive streaming watchlist.

Rebecca has them stay for lunch, and Steve feels kind of bad when they leave her in her lonely apartment with stark walls and hardly any furniture or possessions. She’s still adjusting to the outside world, the same as Bucky is, and Steve is once again very, very glad that he’s been able to bring Bucky straight into a lived-in home with lots of warm things and Steve himself to help. He’d hate to think of Bucky struggling all on his own.

“We should have her over for dinner sometime,” he offers, when he and Bucky are back in Brooklyn and walking towards the OmCare social services building where Bucky’s scheduled for his afternoon intake and assessment. “Your sister, that is.”

“Ooh, yeah. We could do that?” Bucky looks hopeful. “I could make something.”

“Sure, why not?” They walk inside the building and Steve accompanies Bucky up to the check-in desk. He gives him a little side hug, which Bucky turns into a full-on hug, and then leans up and kisses him. It’s just a quick peck, but it makes Steve flush halfway down his neck.

Bucky smiles when he notices and holds Steve’s hand while they wait in line behind one other person. “You’re nice,” he mumbles.

“It’s your apartment, too. You’re allowed to have guests and go in and out and cook whenever you want. And I’m glad you’ve got your sister, and that she’s got you.” Steve squeezes his hand. “You’ve both overcome something huge. It’s not easy. I’m proud of you.”

Bucky beams and looks like he’ll say something else, but before he can, the receptionist calls him forward and he signs himself in. They take their seats in the waiting room, and before long Bucky is called back by a kind looking beta counselor, who introduces herself as Beatrice—"just Bea is fine"—Collins, and informs Steve that if he plans to stick around for the entire appointment, he’s got quite the wait ahead of him. Steve says he doesn’t mind. His phone has a full charge.

When Bucky comes out of the appointment—three hours later —Steve’s butt is numb from the waiting room chairs, and Bucky’s holding a folder stuffed full of papers. Steve can immediately tell that he’s in a very good mood. He looks ten times brighter than when he'd gone in. “How’d it go?” Steve asks.

“Great!"

"Yeah?"

"Uh huh. My counselor's nice.” Bucky recounts all of the different assessments that Bea had him complete during their session together. “I think she was expecting me to be super screwed up or something,” he jokes. “I don’t know what the heck the hospital told her.”

That you’re a gang rape trauma victim with culture shock and gender dysphoria, Steve thinks, but doesn’t say. He’s been relieved and surprised so far, at how well Bucky’s taken to accepting himself and his body, this bond and the news of an unplanned pregnancy. Steve doesn’t know how that’ll change as the pregnancy progresses, but he’s hopeful that him being there and being accepting of Bucky can help make a positive difference. “Did you get a schedule for therapy?” he asks, when they’re on the bus ride home.

“Mondays and Wednesdays at four,” Bucky says. “There’s a queer youth group that meets after. Bea said she thinks I’ll like it. I told her I’d give it a try.”

Steve blinks in surprise. “Oh. Okay. So ... do you feel like you’re, um, queer?”

Bucky smirks and shakes his head. “No. But I dunno, I might make friends there.”

“Oh yeah. Right, of course.”

His hand migrates to his stomach and he looks down at it. “I still feel really weird about it all. Being pregnant.”

Steve’s heart sinks and he fights not to let it show on his face. “Do you feel like you’re changing your mind? About keeping it?”

Bucky shakes his head but he won’t meet Steve’s eyes. “No, it’s not that. I don’t mean the baby. It’s more about how I’m, like …” He chews his lip as he thinks about it. “How I'm being like this so openly.”

“‘Like this’?”

He nods. “I know people can smell it. And eventually I’ll get big and people’ll see.”

“Yeah.” Steve’s hand creeps over the seat between them, cautious. He personally can’t wait to see Bucky get bigger, but of course he’d never say that. “Is ... that a bad thing?” he asks cautiously.

“No. Not bad. It just makes it so obvious about how I’m, um, you know.” Bucky hesitates for so long that Steve half expects him to throw out an obscene word. “How I'm … omega." He plucks at the front of his sweater, which they bought in the men’s omega clothing section at Target just the other day.

It isn’t much different in style from a typical men’s A/B sweater. Perhaps a bit tighter in the fit—slightly different seams, a more graceful neckline that’s indicative of the gender it’s meant for. Steve thinks it looks good on him, but now he starts to get self conscious and wonders if Bucky truly liked any of the clothes they bought for him the other day. Steve had tried to make it clear that Bucky could pick out anything he wanted. He doesn’t think he’d been the one to steer them in the direction of the men’s O department, rather than men's A/B, but he’ll be damned if he can convince himself of it now.

He opens his mouth to ask, but Bucky’s already speaking, “It wasn’t like that back home. Guys like me were … Well, people knew, of course, but we didn’t talk about it. You hid it, you didn’t go around openly acting all—” he cuts himself off and shakes his head. “Anyways, it’s just weird to be out in public, knowing everybody can tell. Seeing people act like it’s normal.”

Steve frowns and takes his hand. “It is normal, Buck.”

“I know. I know that. It’s just gonna take some getting used to." Bucky twists his lips and grumbles, "Bea says I’ve got ‘dysphoria’.”

“You do,” Steve says solemnly, thinking about how the kid had refused to even consider the men’s O style underwear at Target. They’d purchased a pack of A/B style briefs instead, which Steve had been happy to do for him. “It’s gonna take time,” he agrees kindly. “And that’s okay. It'll get easier, you'll become more comfortable about a lot of stuff. And for the things that don't feel right, well you know you can express your gender any way you want, right? You don't have to force yourself into some box. Not anymore." He gives Bucky's hand a comforting squeeze. "I think the queer group’s a great idea, Buck. You should go.”

Bucky’s scent gradually lightens, and he leans in against Steve’s side, allowing him to wrap an arm around his shoulders and hold him close for the remainder of the bus ride home.

“—and said she thinks I’ll do just fine on the GED,” Bucky tells Steve brightly the next night, when they’re fixing their dinners. “I can study for it online, and take it any time I want. She had this whole indicator test that said my scores were pretty good. Better than what she’s seen from uneducated people in the past.”

“You not uneducated, Buck,” Steve chides. “You were homeschooled.”

“Better than nothing,” Bucky mutters, but says nothing else, and they leave it at that.

They compromise and make little side salads to eat with the frozen dinners that Bucky picked out (the kid has atrocious taste in foods, and Steve has already purchased and paid for overnight shipping on the best prenatal vitamins that money can buy). They settle in to watch a few more episodes of The Nanny, which Bucky has decided that he loves. After that, he picks out a movie to watch, and they sit snuggled on the couch together, some of the new nesting blankets tucked around both of their shoulders.

It becomes apparent that Bucky has taken their previous discussion about physicality to heart. He’s very bold with how close he wants to be with Steve, sitting right up against him as soon as the movie starts and leaning more and more of his weight on him as time goes on. He purrs happily when Steve finally wraps an arm around his shoulders, gives him an affectionate tug against his body, and holds him close. They spend the rest of the movie that way.

By the time the credits roll, Bucky’s hand has been steadily creeping higher up Steve’s thigh for the better part of twenty minutes. They’ve snuggled the entire movie, but Bucky started touching with intent somewhere around the three-quarter mark, and Steve’s done nothing to stop him. He grunts softly when Bucky finally reaches the top of his thigh, and again when he boldly moves his hand and cups the front of his jeans. Steve’s been perked up for a while, and it feels good to finally be touched. “Buck,” he says softly.

Bucky turns into him, putting their faces close together. “Kiss me?” he murmurs, those two quiet words making his lips move in the barest, most enticing way. They look so soft.

Steve’s belly flutters with nerves in a way that it hasn’t done in a long time. Bucky’s so young and sweet, so innocent, and that really gets to Steve more than he wants to admit. He’s never had a virginity kink, but knowing that he’s the only one who’s ever made love to Bucky’s body, the only one who’s ever laid him down in soft spaces and shown him pleasure, God, it makes Steve weak to think about.

It makes him want so much, makes him want to show Bucky every single way there is in the world to feel good. Steve just wants to keep him and teach him and make him happy. And to feel all of that for someone he’s barely known is … It’s a lot. Steve knows they’re bonded, and that he should allow himself a little leeway, allow himself to indulge. Especially since Bucky’s all but in his lap now, having made his wishes crystal clear, lips hovering scant centimeters away from Steve’s own.

Steve closes the distance, pressing their mouths together in a gentle kiss. Bucky is soft, just as devastatingly sweet and soft as he looks, and Steve feels his blood run hotter at the sheer lust that courses through him. Fuck, he thinks despairingly. How is he ever going to control himself with this boy?

Bucky makes a tiny noise of pleasure as soon as they’re kissing, a sound that goes straight to Steve’s cock. He’s so eager, pressing closer, his hand between Steve’s legs molding to the shape of his erection and rubbing. Steve grunts and kisses him harder, and Bucky looses the sweetest little whimper. He abandons all pretense of restraint, turning fully into Steve, climbing into his lap and straddling him. His hands come up to cradle Steve’s face as they make out.

Steve groans at the first, hot swipe of Bucky’s tongue. He opens up to it and follows, his hands curling in hard at Bucky’s waist as they get more and more heated, more urgent. Bucky’s hips start grinding down in tight little circles, and when they break away from the kiss momentarily, Steve's slightly out of breath. “Buck,” he pants, and Bucky nods shakily in response.

“Yeah. Oh God, Steve. You feel so … I just wanna … nngh.”

Jesus, Steve thinks. It doesn’t even take a complete sentence from the boy to make heat pulse harder through his veins. He knows that part of it’s from the bond. Logically, he knows. He can feel Bucky’s arousal like an echo of his own, amplifying everything. His cock is throbbing against the seam of his jeans. Bucky’s been rocking needily against it as they kiss, and Steve can smell the omega’s arousal now, honey-sweet and tempting underneath the layers of his clothes. He’s getting wet.

It calls out to Steve’s instincts, makes him want to grab Bucky and tackle him to the floor, make him feel so good that he cries and comes apart for him within minutes. It’s not like it would be hard to do. Steve knows how an omega's body works, knows that he could have Bucky creaming on his fingers before the movie’s end credits are finished rolling. But he forces himself to hold back, because that’s not what he wants, not really. Not for Bucky’s first time in their home. Their home. Christ.

“Sweetheart,” he gasps, when Bucky switches to sucking on his neck and rubbing forwards instead of down, his clothed little cock grinding against Steve’s abs, giving off these needy little whines as he moves. Fuck, it’s sexy. And he’s got his mouth right over Steve’s glands, bringing blood to the surface of skin that’s still tender and sensitive from the recent bondmark. It’s healed by now, but the skin is still pink and thin, delicate from injury. It wouldn’t take much to get it to break all over again, and Steve feels saliva pool in his mouth as he imagines that the same must be true of Bucky’s mark. He grits his teeth and digs his fingers in hard at Bucky’s waist, trying to control himself. “Oh, Honey … okay wait. Wait wait wait.” He pulls back, panting, and after a moment Bucky does, too. His eyes open and flick over Steve’s face. He’s got such fantastic eyes. Irises that flare into a stormy cobalt, and then gray; his pupils blown huge with desire. Steve is fucking helpless under those eyes.

“Alpha,” Bucky breathes, saying it like it might as well be Steve’s name. “Can we? Please? I want it, I do. Please Steve, please take me back to our room.”

It’s such pretty begging. Steve’s hit hard in that instant by how utterly beautiful Bucky is. His dark lashes and plush lips, the wanting pinch between his brows, and the sweet, aroused, pregnant smell of him. Steve wonders how he ever thought he was going to be able to remain respectable, here. “Yeah?” he asks, pushing his hands under Bucky’s sweater to feel his skin. He digs his fingers into the soft give of his waist and feels him shudder. “You sure?”

Bucky grabs his face to kiss him forcefully, his hips jolting down again as he does. “Yes!” he laughs, kissing Steve hard, shoving his tongue inside his mouth with almost no skill. “Fuck, Steve. Come on. Pleease. You’re my Alpha, aren’t you?” He’s only asking lightheartedly, but Steve’s balls still clench and throb as if he’s been issued a challenge, and his growl still intensifies to something rich and possessive, rolling deep in his chest. Bucky makes a delighted sound at hearing it, and his scent spikes. He clings to Steve and tucks his face in his neck, humping him harder and moaning, “C’mon Alpha. Take me back there and hold me down. Make it feel better. Aren’t I your omega? Don’t you want to breed me up in our nest?”

“Fuck,” Steve says tightly. This kid’s too clever. He figures things out. “Bucky,” he growls.

“Yeah." Bucky drags his teeth over Steve’s bondmark and sucks, hard, on the glands. He releases with a 'pop' and a harshly whispered, “So make me feel good like you’re supposed to,” against the shell of Steve’s ear. And Steve breaks. He shoves up to standing with Bucky hoisted in his arms. The coffee table scrapes loudly across the floor when his shins hit it. Bucky squeaks at the sudden movement and grabs onto him, laughing delightedly. "Steve!"

Steve carries him back to the bedroom. He dumps him on the bed and Bucky scoots back and starts yanking off his clothes with haste. Steve stays standing and undresses, growling at him. “You’re a manipulative little shit, you know that?”

Bucky laughs. “If it gets me what I want," he preens, voice muffled by his tee shirt and sweater twisted halfway over his face.

Steve is naked first, and he helps Bucky by pulling off the briefs that he's trying to kick off his foot, tossing them away with a grin as he crawls over him on the bed. “And what is that, huh?” he asks, settling in the cradle of his hips, pleased when Bucky's legs part instinctively to make a place for him. Finally, their bodies finally pressed fully together, nothing between them anymore. It feels right. Bucky’s eyes are bright and joyful, his cheeks beautifully flushed as Steve settles on his forearms above him. Bucky whines and draws his knees up, humping against Steve's stomach, smearing his slick there. Steve traces the edge of one dark brow with his thumb. “Pretty boy. What do you want so bad, hm?”

“Thought that’d be obvious by now,” Bucky jokes, though some of the bravado has leached from his voice, replaced by a breathiness that betrays his nerves.

Steve glances down between them and sees Bucky’s cocklet, half hard and fattened up against his belly. And lower down, all that slick. It’s mind-bendingly hot, and Steve shoves a hand down between them, smearing through the mess and getting it all over his fingers. “So wet, Sweetheart,” he praises.

Bucky chokes out the prettiest little noise when Steve's fingers graze his soaked lips, and then wrap around his cocklet and start giving it light, coaxing strokes. “S-shit,” he whimpers, shoving up against Steve’s hand. “Ohn, sh-shit, Steve …”

“Mmhm.” Steve kisses him as he strokes, stopping frequently to pull back and watch the pleasure play out over his face. Bucky's little cock is almost fully hard in his hand. Steve looks down between their bodies to watch as he thumbs over the head again and again. He takes gentle hold of his foreskin and uses it to jerk him off right at the tip. The sight of it is enough to make him want to pop a knot. And lower down? Jesus wept, it’s pretty. Bucky’s slick is everywhere and his cunt is pink and swollen, the lips puffy and darkened from arousal. Jesus fucking Christ. Steve's overcome with the need to seal his mouth right over it.

He gets back on his knees, intending to do just that, pulling Bucky where he wants him in the sheets. He pushes Bucky’s knees apart and looks his fill. Bucky starts to whine and squirm at the close attention, but Steve hushes him and plays with his cock some more to distract him. “Shh, Honey. You’re so pretty down here.” He’s staring, can’t help but stare at the gorgeous spread of Bucky’s sex. He trails his fingers over it in the barest ghost of a touch, near reverent in how he plays with this delicate part of him. “Oh, Sweetheart. Look at you, so perfect.”

Bucky’s scent gets even more aroused, but with a growing hint of embarrassment to it that Steve doesn’t like. His nose wrinkles as he scents a twinge of humiliation, and realizes how bothered Bucky is. This isn’t going to be like at the hospital. Bucky no longer has the mental fog or the fevered drive of his heat to guide him through any of this.

Steve looks up and tries to convey what he feels for Bucky through his expression, through the bond that they share. He reaches out and cups his cheek. “What are you thinking, Sweet boy?” he asks sadly, knowingly. Because he can already see it: the self-deprecating thoughts that Bucky's having about his body, about what he’s been told all his life is wrong with it. Steve makes a miserable noise of contention, and Bucky’s lips quiver and his eyes slip closed. He’s shaking his head just the barest bit. Steve whines sadly. “Honey,”

“Nothing,” Bucky whispers, squirming unhappily and pressing his cheek into Steve’s palm. His sad little smile is heart wrenching. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

For the first time, Steve wishes that he’d gone in to speak privately with Bucky’s OmCare counselor the other day, so that he could’ve asked questions. Steve’s never been with someone with issues like Bucky has, at least not any longer than a few hectic days spent fucking in a heat suite. His job involves acute care, the during. He’s never been there to deal with the after. Bucky’s so beautiful laid out before him now, but Steve is keenly aware of how fragile he is, too. He doesn’t want to mess this up.

Slowly, he moves his hand from Bucky’s face and fits it around the front of his throat instead. He presses up and in under his jaw, and watches as Bucky’s eyes shoot open again. Steve levels him with a tender look. “Buck,” he tells him gently. “I want to lay down on my stomach, here.” He nods at the bed. “Right here, between your pretty legs.” Bucky swallows thickly beneath his palm, a hurt little pinch forming between his brows. One of his hands has come up to grip onto Steve’s wrist at his throat, but he isn’t pushing him away, and Steve keeps his hand there. “I think you’re so beautiful, Sweetheart. And I want to show you. I want to make you feel good.” Carefully, he leans down over him, so close that their lips brush together. But he keeps his eyes open, and so does Bucky, and he doesn’t kiss him. He stays like that, sharing breath with him and looking right into his eyes as he holds his neck with gentle dominance. … And with his other hand, he reaches down between his legs.

Bucky’s breath catches and trips at the first touch of Steve’s fingers, his face slipping between desire and shame and a whole host of other, vulnerable emotions. “S-steve,” he breathes.

“Mmhm.” He lets the pads of his fingers stroke softly along the lips of Bucky’s cunt, again and again, up and down, just barely touching. He’s soaked. “I want you to tell me,” Steve murmurs, and then he finally does kiss him—just once, just a tiny peck on the lips. Bucky tries to kiss back, but he denies him, maintaining that scant distance between their faces and waiting until Bucky opens his eyes again. Steve smiles. “Tell me, Bucky. Tell me to put my face down between your legs. Tell me to kiss you, to lick you.”

The whine Bucky makes is as bothered as the blush that stains his cheeks. He writhes underneath Steve, and Steve tightens his hand on his neck. He fits his thumb over his bonding glands and presses firmly. “I love every part of your body Buck, and I want you to see that. I want you to see what I see.” He gives him another kiss, and this time speaks directly against Bucky’s mouth. “Now give me permission to eat you out.”

“Fuck,” Bucky whimpers, but the shame in his scent has already peaked and is dissipating. It’s still there, but Steve can feel through the bond how his words have helped. Bucky squirms under him, a new gush of slick pooling around Steve’s fingers right after. “... E-eat me out, Steve.”

“Good boy. Oh, Bucky, Sweetheart,”

“Please … your mouth, your … please.”

Steve growls, more than satisfied. He mashes his mouth down hard on Bucky’s, kissing him fiercely to let him know he’s been so, so good for him. Then he shoves himself down the bed, dragging his cock against the sheets as he goes to get some relief. Bucky’s legs spread apart and Steve coaxes him with gentle murmurs to rest them over his shoulders. “There you go. Just like that, Beautiful.” He kisses the back of one calf as it moves and Bucky settles. He flicks his eyes up to Bucky, who’s staring down at him with parted lips and heavy-lidded eyes.

“Oh, Steve. Are you gonna?”

He moves instead of answering, shoulders pushing under Bucky’s thighs and arms wrapping around, tugging him closer. Bucky squeaks and Steve rumbles in satisfaction. “Goddamn,” he curses, rolling his hips down against the mattress some more. It’s barely a relief. “Baby,” he breathes, staring at Bucky’s pink folds, so wet and delicate, his little hole clenching on nothing. “Baby, you got no idea how good this pussy looks. Fuck.”

Bucky groans at the words, but he doesn’t get much chance to protest further because in the next second Steve is diving in. He seals his mouth over most of Bucky’s entire sex, just because he can, giving a big, indulgent suck and making absolutely filthy noises in the process. He laves the flat of his tongue, wide and firm and focused, up the pink cleft of his cunt, again and again, before setting in to a few moments of truly tongue fucking him—first with tiny little jabs that barely breach him and make him whine high and needy, then a series of longer, deeper pushes, going as far into Bucky’s body as he possibly can. Bucky downright wails after a moment of that, and Steve can hear the frustration in it, can hear how he wants more but doesn’t have the words to ask. That’s alright, though. Steve has given plenty of head in his life, and he knows what male omegas respond to best. He gets himself in gear and does what he knows will have Bucky coming in minutes.

“Jesus Chr-uh—” Bucky grunts, his hips shoving up hard against Steve’s face.

Steve hums around the cocklet in his mouth and tongues the underside, flicking over and over it like he would do to a woman’s clit. He’s got one hand holding Bucky’s hip down, and he uses the other to tease at the wet entrance of his slit, pressing with the tips of two fingers. It’s so tight that, for a long second, it doesn’t feel as if he’ll be able to get in. He hums his mouth on Buck’s cock and pushes harder … and slips in.

Bucky cries out sharply and both of his hands are suddenly in Steve’s hair, pulling him closer. His legs hook over his back, heels digging in. “Fuck, oh fuck, Steve yeah… yeahyeah … that … oh, ohplease, jus’likethat.”

Steve hums happily and curls his fingers, rubbing the right spots, letting his knuckles bump Bucky’s mound while he suckles with purpose at the head of his dick. He’s determined to get at least this first orgasm out of the way before he fucks him.

Bucky’s hands pull his head and his hips shove against Steve’s face as he arches and comes, the sweet, desperate sounds he makes as he reaches his climax music to Steve’s ears. His body contracts rhythmically as he releases, a hot gush of slick between his legs and Steve’s palm. Steve groans with his cocklet still held in his mouth. He pulls off, lifting his head to gaze up Bucky’s body but leaving his fingers buried inside his cunt. Bucky’s head is tossed back in the pillows, panting, his face lax from the trailing bliss of his orgasm.

Steve smiles and strokes his fingers inside a few more times, prolonging it for him as much as he can. When Bucky inhales hugely then sighs, his entire body going boneless, Steve pulls out. He dips down for one more, indulgent taste, then kisses his way back up Bucky’s stomach, up across his chest and neck. Bucky’s waiting for him with half-lidded eyes and a sated smile when he arrives to lie over top of him again. Steve hums, settling between his legs and kissing him lightly. He rocks his hips minutely, moving his cock through all that slick. “Feel good?” he asks, bending down to nose at his neck.

Bucky shivers in his arms and nods. “Mmm. Mmhm.”

Steve’s lips find Bucky’s bondmark and kiss it. “Good,” he murmurs. He flicks his tongue out against the delicate skin of the mark, imagining how good it would feel to bite him now, to sink his teeth in all over again, feel the skin break so tenderly and the blood welling out rich with pheromones, how much the sound of Bucky’s cries would turn him on. I want to claim you again, he thinks. I want you. His chest aches with how badly he wants to say those things, but he forces himself not to.

It’s not his place to scar Bucky up any worse than he already has, not when they aren’t mates. Bucky’s with him until the baby comes, maybe not long after. Steve has to let him have that choice, he can't be selfish and box him in, no matter how badly his instincts might make him want to. He rubs his lips over the bondmark instead, then just his nose, when the urge to bite won’t go away.

Beneath him, Bucky’s hips cant up further, receptive. His knees notch up higher about Steve’s waist. But after a moment of lazy writhing and making little seeking, wanting mewls, he freezes. “Oh. Um … Steve?”

“Mm?” Steve is rubbing his cock through the wet cleft of his sex, ready to be inside his omega, ready to feel that heaven again. He wedges a hand down to line himself up. “You ready, Honey?”

“Wait, no.” Steve pulls back, and Bucky winces in apology. “Ah, maybe I have to pee. Sorry.”

Steve laughs, relieved, and kisses him quickly. He rolls off of him and onto his back. “Don’t apologize. It happens.” He pats him on the hip affectionately and tells him to go. Bucky does, and Steve watches his naked backside as it disappears into the ensuite. He sighs heavily once he’s alone, scrubbing the heels of his hands over his eyes and resisting the urge to touch himself in Bucky’s absence. God, he’d really wanted to bite him again. That’s going to be a problem. He hears the toilet flush, then water running at the sink, then Bucky’s footsteps as he returns. Steve uncovers his face and smiles as Bucky climbs back on the bed. “Better?”

“Mmhm.”

Bucky's a typical omega, in that he responds very well to his orgasms. He’s loose and happy after his first, all the tension and insecurities from before gone for the moment. Steve knows his brain has just dumped a shit-ton of chemicals to tell him that he’s loved and safe and beautiful and cared for. He moves to pull him in close again, intending to get right back between his spread legs like he’d been before, but Bucky stops him with another hesitant,

“Wait.”

Steve pauses, and when Bucky pushes against his shoulder he takes the hint and returns to lying on his back, probably with a quizzical expression on his face. Bucky’s kneeling on the bedcovers beside him, looking shy but eager. Steve’s knot throbs at that look. “Buck?”

Bucky’s eyes rove over his body with interest plain on his face. At his sides, his hands make an aborted gesture towards Steve. “Um. I wanted to try …” He bites his lip, eyes trailing down to Steve’s erection where it lies wet and heavy against his belly, the shine of Bucky’s slick on it catching the room’s light. Bucky visibly trembles and reaches out with his hand again. This time, his fingers brush over the skin of Steve’s hip. He shifts in place on his knees. “Can I …”

“Yes,” Steve breathes, instantly harder just at the thought of Bucky touching him in that way—with his hands, his mouth, it doesn’t matter. Whatever it is that Bucky wants, Steve wants him to have it. The idea of his omega wanting him like this, wanting to explore his body, makes Steve hotter than anything he can imagine. “Anything you want,” he manages to croak out, forcing himself to remain still and let Bucky set the pace. “Go ahead.”

Bucky’s timid for another moment, leaning forward. His hands land lightly on Steve’s chest at first, then drag down, feeling his body. He takes a deep breath and seems to decide on something, his expression growing resolute. He straddles Steve’s thighs and leans forward to touch his chest again, taking more time to explore his pecs, ghost fingers over his nipples. It’s endearing how fascinated he still is. Steve supposes that they didn’t do much of this in the heat suite. Bucky had been too far into his cycle then, too needy and traumatized to even contemplate exploring Steve’s body when what he really needed was an alpha taking care of him. Now though, now he can explore. And the heat in his eyes as they rove Steve’s body shows that he very much wants to.

Steve swallows thickly and watches as his omega becomes familiar with him in this new way. His hands flow over Steve’s abs, fingertips tracing the lines of muscle, and then the hair that starts on his belly. He smooths his hands down over those flat planes, out to his hips, to the tops of his thighs and back up. But his eyes remain glued to Steve’s cock the entire time. It’s fully hard now, darkened in color from his arousal and the knot plumped at the base. Bucky’s eyes flick up once, just to check, and Steve gives him a shaky smile. “Go ahead, Sweetheart.”

Bucky touches his cock, wrapping his hand around the shaft like he’s afraid he’ll hurt Steve. “What should I do?” he whispers, fingers tightening the barest fraction and giving a cautious stroke. “I’ve never …”

Steve’s hips jerk up and he fights to keep himself still. “It’s okay,” he says. “You touch yourself, right? Just do that. It’s the same.”

Bucky’s eyes flick up, and Steve’s surprised to see humor there. Bucky twists his lips wryly. “It’s not the same,” he teases, looking back down pointedly at Steve’s humongous cock, and then his.

Steve chuckles. “Well, general idea.” He reaches down and puts his hand over Bucky’s hand where it’s holding his cock. Bucky inhales sharply and looks at him. Steve nods. “Anything you do is gonna feel so good for me, Buck,” he tells him honestly. “Go ahead. I just want to watch you have fun.” Bucky looks shocked at that for the barest of seconds, but then that look slips away, replaced by eagerness. He looks back down, licks his lips, and starts jerking Steve off in slow, exploring strokes. Steve groans and lets his head flop back into the pillow, closing his eyes after a moment. Bucky’s other hand appears at the top of his thigh. It slides inwards, squeezing the muscle, and Steve groans and spreads his legs a little for him, flexing his pelvis up. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Bucky.” Bucky’s touches grow bolder. He squeezes Steve’s cock harder and starts twisting his hand experimentally on the upstroke. His other hand migrates from Steve’s thigh to his balls, eliciting a grunt from Steve. “Oh,” he breathes, wanting Bucky to hear it in his voice, how good it is. “Honey, yeah. That’s just right.”

Bucky rolls his balls in his palm lightly, and when Steve tells him that he can tug on them a little, he obeys. “Touch my knot,” Steve whispers, when he can feel it swelling further. He moans unexpectedly loudly when Bucky’s hand closes around it though, and he’s opening his eyes and reaching down to grab Bucky’s wrists in alarm. “Nope, nope nope. No more of that,” he pants, wide-eyed.

Bucky laughs, looking proud. “Why not?”

Steve growls and tugs on Bucky's waist, making him fall down on top of him. “You know why not,” he rumbles, then kisses him firmly on the mouth.

It’s possessive, and Bucky moans into it, his hands curling over Steve’s shoulders and hips grinding down against his abs. They part from the kiss and Bucky sits up, his eyes sparkling. “I liked it though,” he says. He rocks down at a different angle, rubbing his cunt on Steve's belly and smearing his slick all over the place. He giggles when Steve groans and grabs his hips to stop him. “What if that’s what I wanted?” he asks. “What if I want to make you cum with my hands? Or my mouth?”

“Fuck.”

“I want to see it,” he says, eyes hot on Steve and his hips rocking lewdly against him. “One day. I wanna see it happen. In my hands. I want to hold it and see it get big.”

Steve really, really has to close his eyes for a second with that one. He bites the inside of his cheek hard enough to hurt. Because he simply cannot with Bucky and his virginal little attempts at dirty talk right now. “You better watch your mouth,” he warns, his voice sounding like he’s swallowed rocks. “Or you will see it.” Bucky’s grin is magnificent, but Steve raises an eyebrow and reminds him, “Alphas only cum once, Sweetheart. Up to you to decide where my knot is, when that happens.”

It’s adorable, how fast Bucky’s eyes widen at that, and then how he frowns and pouts about not getting to have his cake and eat it, too. Steve waits him out patiently, grateful to have a few seconds’ reprieve (and also fairly certain that he knows which way Bucky’s going to steer things).

“Fine,” Bucky eventually says, sighing dramatically as if he’s making the world’s most difficult choice. Steve grins and digs his fingers firmly into the fleshiness of his hips, preparing to flip them back over. But Bucky grunts in protest, and then he puts his hands on Steve's chest and shoves him back down to the bed with an adorable little omega growl. Steve feels his surge of confidence and playful dominance through the bond, and he grins up at him, understanding what he wants. “Yeah?”

Bucky pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and bites it, a little bit of self-consciousness slipping back in, even as he nods. “Uh huh. Can I?”

Steve groans. He sits up and yanks Bucky against him, one hand threaded into his hair just so he can kiss him, hard, one single time. He falls back down to the bed. “Of course you can,” he tells him, grabbing his hips again and kneading his fingers in. “Go on.”

His enthusiastic response seems to wipe away any remaining traces of Bucky’s doubt. The boy's scent is pure again, unpolluted by shame or uncertainty, and he licks his lips and focuses intently on kneeling up, reaching around behind himself for Steve’s cock, and lining it up with his entrance.

Steve helps him along, holding his dick steady at the base so that Bucky can focus on relaxing and taking him inside his body. “Hey,” he whispers, getting Bucky’s attention back on him. “Keep your eyes on me, okay?” Bucky flushes and exhales shakily at the command. He nods, eyes fixed on Steve’s face even as he lowers himself down and they touch. Steve’s cockhead presses, breaches Bucky’s body, and he sees Bucky’s lips part and his brow pinch.

"Oh."

“Just like that,” Steve soothes, petting his flank with one hand, guiding his hip down with the other. Bucky groans quietly as he sinks down and bottoms out, and Steve rewards him with a deep rumble of approval. “Thaat’s it, Honey. Oh, good boy.”

Bucky mewls and falls forward, bracing both hands on Steve’s chest. His eyes are clamped shut tightly and he starts moving, rocking forwards and back, hard and fast. But Steve only lets him have a moment of that frantic grinding before he’s shushing him and coaxing him to sit back, slow down, and open his eyes. “Yeah,” he says, stroking up to his waist and back down in praise. He tugs and pulls his hips, guiding him into the right motions. “Slow and easy. That’s right. Keep those pretty eyes open so Alpha can see, yeah?” Bucky nods, his pleasure-pained face and desperation for Steve's guidance just about the sweetest, most erotic thing Steve’s ever seen. He nods along encouragingly with Bucky. “Good boy. That's it. Look right at me while you make us feel so good.”

Bucky does, sitting back the way that Steve’s positioned him and learning to roll his hips in that slow, luxurious grind that feels absolutely exquisite. He’s able to keep at it that way for a long while, too, before his breathing eventually starts to pick up, getting heavier and faster, his face and chest gorgeously flushed. The wet sounds of all his slick are more intense, and Steve can tell from the scent of him, from the feeling of his cunt tightening and rippling around his dick, that he’s close to his second orgasm. Steve clenches his jaw and digs his heels into the sheets so he can fuck up against Bucky's grinding. He can feel his knot pulsing, about to swell. “Baby,” he grits out. “M’close.”

“Steve.”

“I’m gonna knot you,” he gasps. “Buck, oh, I’m gonna.”

It’s the first time he’s ever not asked it as a question, but he doesn’t have to worry about consent, because Bucky makes it immediately clear that Steve’s knot is exactly what he wants. “Fuck yeah,” he whines, face crumpling and both of his hands shooting forward to brace on Steve’s chest again. He grinds harder, faster, more desperately like he’d done in the beginning, and this time Steve lets him. He curses and wraps his arms around Bucky’s back when the boy collapses onto him. His knot pops, and Bucky wails and comes.

Steve shouts as he starts to come, too, his balls pulling up tight and his focus narrowing down to nothing but the point where their bodies are joined. God, it feels so good, so good, sofuckinggood. His hips rut mindlessly against their tie and he clutches onto Bucky, muffling his moans in the omega’s neck. He gasps and has to force his mouth away from Bucky’s bonding glands at the last second, when he realizes what he’s aiming for. He pants into the top of his shoulder instead as he comes. He loses track of space and time for that first, excruciating minute of his orgasm, and then flows back into himself for the heavenly three or four minutes of languorous pleasure that follow.

Meanwhile, Bucky pants and grinds himself out to at least one more climax, then collapses on Steve’s chest in sweaty exhaustion. "Oh. Oh, god."

Steve moans and wraps his arms fully around Bucky's waist, hugging their bodies tightly together while his balls keep emptying. "Hmmm," he sighs blissfully, eyes closed and nose buried in Bucky's hair. "'Mega."

Bucky whimpers a little and squirms on his knot, repeating his name in a tired, whispered slur, again and again, right against Steve’s left pec: “Steve, Ssteve … mmm, Ssteeve.”

Steve kisses the top of Bucky’s head and hums some more. He thinks he mumbles something in the general vicinity of, “Luv you,” before he drifts off to sleep, his cock still buried deep and his omega’s adoring, sated whispers still ringing in his ears.

Art: @hopelessartgeek

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[sherlocking-out-loud]

about buddie, I think we're heading for divorce arc 2.0 turbo mode - where it's Buck's time to ask Eddie if he ever stopped to think about Christopher. and it will be ugly and heartbreaking to watch them fight. and they may not even be on speaking terms when this season ends. maybe Eddie feels such shame for having failed as a father and for disappointing Buck, that he just shuts down and isolates himself, feeling unworthy of forgiveness.

so, I'd love it if in this season (maybe even in the finale) we'd have a parallel with 5x13. Eddie would be sitting on the floor, cell phone in hand, browsing through hundreds of photos he has accumulated of Buck with Chris, and Buck with himself, at work and outside of it. one after the other, happy and funny memories of their time together over the years. maybe in between shots of him looking and the pictures with a terribly sad expression (and Ryan would nail this so hard), we could have little montages of the moments from those photos, a buddie best off, so to speak. and then Eddie just breaks down. he cries and cries and cries, but this time?... this time, he's all alone.

roll credits, enter hiatus.

[chronicowboy]

can't wait for the shot of eddie rushing in to see christopher after buck calls to tell him about the little accident and buck moving out of the way to give them space, hovering in the doorway and watching chris complain about eddie's fussing before walking away with his tail between his legs like a scolded dog.

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Beating back more fic ideas with a stick

[lover-of-mine]

X

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Make Me Write ask answered

162 📖 for @inell!

---

When they arrive at the fire station, Eddie is indeed in rough shape. Scratched, damp, and wearing a heating blanket. 

“Buck, why is my dad dressed like a baked potato?” Chris asks nervously when he sees him. 

Eddie is sitting in the back of an ambulance, looking a little sleepy. The other paramedic - the one that isn’t Chimney - is talking to him. 

“It’s keeping him warm,” Buck explains. “Why don’t you go see him? That’ll make him even warmer.”

“DAD!” Chris calls out, heeding Buck’s advice. He picks up his pace a little in Eddie’s direction. 

“CHRISTOPHER!” Eddie calls back once he sees him. He hops out of the ambulance, dropping the warming blanket, and runs across the engine bay floor towards his son. When he reaches him, he scoops him up into the biggest, tightest, most loving hug Buck has ever seen. Buck honestly feels a little choked up, watching it. 

He doesn’t want to intrude on their moment, so he hangs back, holding onto Christopher’s backpack. After a minute of this hug, of Eddie speaking quietly to his son, he finally looks in Buck’s direction. He sets Christopher down, strides over to where Buck is, and hugs him too. Just quick, with a clap on the back, but it’s still a hug. It catches Buck off-guard a little.

“Thank you,” Eddie says emphatically. “Thank you so much for taking care of him.”

“No problem, really,” Buck says when Eddie pulls away. “Chris kept me in line. Made sure I knew the right answers to American history. Really he did me a favor.”

Eddie’s smile in response is practically glowing. “I owe you one, man.”

“Hey, don’t mention it. Just glad you’re okay.” Buck says. “Is Carla good? I couldn’t reach her either.”

Eddie nods. “Her dad isn’t well. She was visiting him today.”

“Oh,” Buck replies. “That’s… That’s too bad.”

Eddie takes a deep breath. “Listen, man, can I buy you a beer sometime? As a thank you?”

Buck… Well, for some reason, even though it’s totally not necessary, Buck really likes the sound of that.

“Yeah,” Buck nods. “Yeah, that’d be great. My number should be in your phone from when I tried to call you.”

“Perfect,” Eddie smiles. 

x.

It’s way too much fun. 

Buck meets Eddie at a sports bar. They grab beers. Watch a game. It’s probably the most fun Buck’s had in a while. Without work or a kid in between them, they connect as just people. And it turns out, they connect pretty well. They have a similar sense or humor and like a lot of the same things. Eddie listens when Buck goes on accidental tangents about subjects he finds interesting. Buck is genuinely delighted with stories about Christopher. They just sort of… Mesh?

By the end of the night, they’re making plans to hang out again, and Buck’s stomach can’t quite shake a fluttery, swooping feeling. Something that he’s only really felt before… Well, on dates. 

Which is strange for Buck because, well… Eddie is a man? And Buck didn’t know that another man could make him feel that way. 

Which probably means… Something. 

xi.

Buck and Eddie manage to hang out two more times by themselves, and once with Christopher, even, before the world shuts down. And Buck goes from the exciting thrill of a new friend/maybe crush to working alone in an empty library, filling online orders, and putting them in sterile pickup areas, with nothing at all to look forward to. 

It’s awful. It’s depressing. Buck genuinely struggles to get out of bed in the morning for the entire month of April. 

His sister is pregnant, and she can’t even stay with Chimney because of the risk. She’s alone. Buck’s alone. Everyone is boxed off from each other. 

They keep in contact. Eddie and Buck. Text. Social media. Buck does a few virtual homework help sessions with Chris out of working hours. But it’s weird. It’s like they almost had a friendship or something, and it just kind of gets stalled. 

All the nothingness means Buck has time. On and off work. He has nothing but time. It reminds him of the early years of his undergrad, where the coursework wasn’t challenging or interesting enough to keep his mind busy. He’d had to find ways to fill the time. Partying. Drinking. Sex. Working out. Those had been his options, then. Apart from working out, he doesn’t want to replicate the rest in a global pandemic. Which means Buck is left with way more hours to fill than even in undergrad. 

And he’s a librarian. So… One of the things he does to avoid going crazy? He reads. He researches. He learns. And one of the things he starts going all in on learning about? Human sexuality and attraction. Because the distance from Eddie doesn’t make Buck stop thinking about him. Doesn’t quell the curiosity, the thinking. The excitement each time a notification from Eddie lights up his phone. So Buck researches, and he tries to figure himself out. 

So, in the middle of a pandemic, where everyone is quarantined, and Buck is completely alone, he discovers he’s bisexual. Stellar timing. Really great work. Had he uncovered this little tidbit of identity earlier in his life? Maybe he’d be quarantining with a boyfriend or a husband or something cool like that. Since he’s historically fumbled all the women in his life. Who is he kidding? He’ll probably be the same with dudes. But until proven otherwise, he imagines he’ll be very smooth.

So. Bisexual. Alone in his studio apartment. Living through an unprecedented global emergency. Kind of thirsting over a man he won’t be able to see for months, and who he doesn’t even know is queer, so probably has no chance with. 

Buck is frustrated. 

He learns to cook. He buys a variety of plants. Tries and fails to learn to draw. Impulse adopts a cat; a Burmese he renames Begonia. Her previous name was Princess and to be honest she is way too relaxed for that designation. 

Nothing makes the sense of restlessness building in his chest go away. 

xii.

It’s late summer by the time he and Eddie can hang out again. At a distance. Outside, on a hike. Masks on if they get any closer. Eddie has a higher chance of infection on his job, and Buck wants to be safe. 

They fall back into their easy pattern of conversation and humor. It’s like whatever paused between them at the beginning of the year picks right back up without any issue. And Buck is relieved. Relieved and excited. Like they’re pointed towards a direction he hasn’t seen before, but is desperate to discover.

Buck tells Eddie all about the ever-changing library policies regarding the virus. Eddie tells Buck about childcare struggles. 

“With Carla caring for her dad full time, and my Abuela back in Texas, it’s been insane,” he admits. 

“And no aftercare programs at the library,” Buck says. 

“Or anywhere,” Eddie says. 

“Man, that’s rough. I’m sorry.”

“It’s… Well, single parenting is never easy. But global catastrophe certainly adds to it.”

“Hey, if-if I can help…” Buck offers, a little aimlessly. 

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Is the library open to visitors yet?”

“Well, no,” Buck admits. “Soon, hopefully? But I mean, I can ask the head librarian - Janine - if he can, uh, sneak in. Masked up, of course.” “I mean, if he could. That’d be really helpful. He could do class from there, right?” Eddie asks. ”Only if it wouldn’t put you out!”

[eladrins]

I hadn't actually been drinking a ton today, like a few glasses of bucks fizz in the morning, a cider with dinner, but then dad broke out the cocktail making set

[nerdyfangirlingbooks]

I've had a stupid merlin au idea stuck in my head for days now and I know I'll never get around to writing it the way I want it written but I kinda wanna try anyway even though I am 100% of the target audience

[seddair]

.