somecouplestolove

[somecouplestolove]

Six Days of Buddie: Day Five

[somecouplestolove]

dinner date

[somecouplestolove]

Six Days of Buddie: Day Four

[somecouplestolove]

You always make me feel so safe.

[somecouplestolove]

6'2'' weighted blanket with attachement issues

[somecouplestolove]

so I was doodling that one ship dynamic meme about bigtitsbigass and then I also started doodle it from other pov bc I thought

THEYRE HOLDING HANDSSSSS🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧

ref meme below

[somecouplestolove]

‘cause there’s no better love

“Hey- um- can I…?” Eddie trails off gesturing his hands around awkwardly. Then he stops, his arms limp at his sides as he stares into Buck’s eyes, pleading with him.

Buck has no clue what he’s asking for, but he’d give Eddie anything in the entire world, including his beating heart, even if he had to rip it from his own body.

“Yeah man, of course.” He responds easily. Eddie sighs, relieved before he sits down on the couch next to Buck, grabbing his right hand. He holds it gently, as if it’s something precious, breakable. Two of his fingers drift to Buck’s pulse point, and Buck can hear Eddie counting under his breath.

(or, eddie keeps holding buck's hand, and buck lets him)

The rain pitter-patters steadily against the windows, the streaks of water falling quicker and quicker, as it picks up into a heavier downpour.

Droplets race one another down the glass, the water creating a faux mosaic on the glass. It’s beautiful.

Buck is watching it because, despite everything, it still calms him.

Buck knows he’s safe, and knows he has no reason to be afraid because he’s inside Eddie’s house, surrounded by the warmth that is the Diaz’ home. Sitting on their old blue couch, with the springs that dig right into your spine, letting Buck know he’s alive and well.

He closes his eyes, leaning his head back onto the couch, listening to the thunder roll in when the sound of scuffling in the kitchen catches his attention.

The distinct clatter of someone dropping a plate loudly echoes through the house, and Buck’s just about to get up, to check if Eddie’s okay, but before he can Eddie rushes into the room, coming to a stop in front of Buck.

Eddie’s posture is tense, shoulders taut, as he examines Buck. His eyes are frantic in their movements, his gaze traveling up and down Buck repeatedly, before he finally settles for looking into Buck’s own eyes.

The room was silent other than the rain outside, and Eddie’s heavy breathing.

The brunet reaches out, a small movement Buck would’ve missed if he wasn’t watching so closely. Eddie opens his mouth,

“Hey- um- can I…?” He trails off gesturing his hands around awkwardly. Then Eddie stops, his arms limp at his sides as he stares into Buck’s eyes, pleading with him.

Buck has no clue what he’s asking for, but he’d give Eddie anything in the entire world, including his beating heart, even if he had to rip it from his own body.

“Yeah man, of course.” He responds easily. Eddie sighs, relieved before he sits down on the couch next to Buck, grabbing his right hand. He holds it gently, as if it’s something precious, breakable. Two of his fingers drift to Buck’s pulse point, and Buck can hear Eddie counting under his breath.

Buck decides to lift both of their hands to his chest, so Eddie can feel his heart fully. This seems to further alleviate his tension as he slumps into Buck’s side, still counting.

His breathing returns to normal, and eventually, he stops counting- but he doesn’t let go. If anything Eddie’s grip on his hand tightens, almost as if he’s afraid to let go. (Buck is too, so very afraid)

So, they sit together, hand in hand, riding the storm out. Safe.

—

Buck would be lying if he told you he didn’t think about holding Eddie’s hand (or kissing him or holding him or touching him-) but Buck was pretty sure that was just a one-off thing. Comfort Eddie had needed, that Buck was absolutely happy to provide.

Except now Buck cannot stop staring at his hands. Whether he’s working out and Buck gets to see his arms flex, the veins in his hands popping, or if he’s working on a patient, years of skill clear, as those big strong hands are deft and gentle. Even if he’s just holding a mug, Buck can’t help himself.

He yearns for Eddie, and he feels himself longing to hold his hand again.

But, Buck knows it was a one-time thing. Or at least, he thought it was.

Until one day, he’s driving Eddie to work. (because regardless of what he tells you, Eddie loathes driving) He’s got one hand on the steering wheel, the other waving around dramatically as he tells Eddie a story.

“And then Thena’ tells me ‘don’t go chasing waterfalls’, which I’m still not quite sure what that means-“ he’s gesticulating all around- as he often does when he’s talking- when Eddie just grabs his hand mid-air, lacing their fingers together, before bringing their hands down to rest on his thigh.

Buck almost swerves into oncoming traffic. He doesn’t because he’s a phenomenal driver, but when the guy you’re in love with holds your hand (again!) that feels like an appropriate reaction.

Instead, Buck side-eyes Eddie, who is still intently watching him.

The older man squeezes his hand, prompting him to continue the story, and so Buck shakes away any confusion, squeezes back, and continues.

“Anyways, I drive the truck around looking for the house this little girl is in-“

—

It becomes a thing.

Eddie takes his hand into his at any given moment, (even once at work which Buck is sure he will hear about until the day he dies) and holds it, sometimes gently rubbing circles over the calluses and scars that rest on his skin.

Buck never asks- mostly because he’s afraid it will stop. He just enjoys the warmth and weight in his hand. He’s a tactile person, always has been, and his favorite person in the entire world is Eddie, so it’s not like this has been a hardship.

Buck is just… confused. Now despite very popular opinion, Buck isn’t dumb. (he has his moments, but give him a break, okay?) He knows how he feels about Eddie. Knows that he loves Eddie, every petty, grumpy, pain-in-the-ass part. The part that can’t even form a sentence before he has two cups of coffee, the part that once told his phone to ‘go fuck yourself’, the part that’s a wonderful dad to his spectacular son, all the parts that make him, him.

Buck never understood how to love until Eddie came into his life.

And so he also knows- or at least is pretty sure- that Eddie feels something back for him.

—

Everything finally comes to a head, on a very quiet night.

Christopher is over at a friend's house, enjoying what Buck assumes is a very chaotic birthday party. (because come on, they’re pre-teen boys)

Buck and Eddie are watching some shitty action movie, drinking beers, and surprise surprise, holding hands.

The credits roll, and Buck prepares himself to let go, wish Eddie goodnight, and go to sleep alone.

When instead, Eddie stands up without dropping his hand and tugs Buck up with him.

“Let’s go to bed.” Is all he says before he’s leading Buck down the hall, into his bedroom.

Buck’s already in his sleep clothes, having been anticipating staying over on the couch.

So he just hovers as Eddie changes into an old t-shirt and basketball shorts. He totally doesn’t admire the hard lines of his back or the way his thighs look-

“You gonna get in?” Eddie asks, already in bed, his eyes visibly twinkling even in the dark. Buck feels his face heat, but slides in next to him stiffly.

Eddie bullies him until they are laying face to face, hands clasped together between them. Buck takes a moment to admire the planes of Eddie’s face, the slope of his nose, and the definition of his jaw.

His resolve slips the longer he looks at Eddie, and he knows that even if he falls Eddie will catch him (and he fell long, long ago).

“I love you.” Buck whispers into the space between them.

The words are reverent and quiet, a confession, but not a secret.

Buck‘s love for Eddie bleeds into everything he does, every action he makes, every word he says, so even if this is the first time he’s said it out loud, it has never been hidden.

Eddie brings his other hand over to gently cup Buck’s face, “I love you too.”

“Is that why you keep holding my hand?” Buck can’t help but tease, Eddie rolls his eyes, but the smile on his face is far too fond for it to hold any heat.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He pauses, searching for his next words, “I needed the reassurance that you were still here, still alive. And then, I couldn’t stop holding your hand, which I know sounds ridiculous, but I can’t help it, I love you.”

Buck laughs, not at him but with him, because he gets it. Love is beautiful, all-consuming, and so very stupid.

The brunette leans forward until their foreheads are pressed together.

Buck tilts his head slightly upward, lips brushing Eddie’s.

Their first kiss is soft and slow, the exploration of lips attempting to convey the love that has been simmering for so long.

Once they break apart, they don’t go far, hands still intertwined, faces inches from one another.

“I’ll always be here,” Buck promises, “you know that right?”

Their job is unpredictable but that isn’t what Buck’s promising, he’s promising to fight for Eddie for their family, to always be there, here for them. Buck needs Eddie to understand that.

Eddie’s eyes search his before he nods, “I know.”

Buck smirks at him cheekily, “Alright, then you can keep holding my hand.”

(here it is, the buddie hand holding fic! hope it lived up to expectations. see you soon :])

[somecouplestolove]

Karaoke’s restroom occupied!! DO NOT DISTURB!!❗️💥💥HAVE A CONSCIENCE LET THEM FU——

🔪🔪🔪в вк не репостить🔪🔪🔪

[somecouplestolove]

Six Days of Buddie: Day One

[somecouplestolove]

JUST DO IT BUCK

🔪🔪🔪 в вк не репостить🔪🔪🔪

[somecouplestolove]

“Let me do that for you”🧼💕

[somecouplestolove]

The last rays of sunlight peek through the curtains of Eddie’s bedroom window, spreading over the bed.

Buck is sitting against the headboard, a pillow stuffed behind him and a light blanket covering him.

Covering them, because Eddie is flush against his side, warm skin on warm skin, slick with cooling sweat. Buck has an arm around his narrow waist, fingers idly rubbing over the smooth skin, back and forth, up and down, until he reaches a spot that has Eddie giggling, a full body jerk.

Buck smiles, drags his fingers lightly over the same spot one more time, Eddie growls playfully, takes hold of his hand but doesn’t move it away as he says, “stop,” and only managing to sound breathless about it.

Buck's smile widens, and he turns his head to the side, looks down at Eddie’s upturned face, breath stuttering, because one of the sun’s stray rays is falling across Eddie’s face, making his eyes a molten golden brown that threatens to unravel Buck, bury him, keep him warm and loved.

He doesn’t know what his face is doing as he stares at Eddie, but whatever it is, it makes Eddie’s cheeks flush, and he ducks his head, half buries it in Buck’s chest, so Buck digs his fingers in again, enjoying the way Eddie’s whole body pulses with the feeling, more bright laughter falling from his lips right into Buck’s chest, and yet he still doesn’t pull away; he burrows closer, if anything.

The sun is disappearing over the horizon, the room steadily growing darker and darker, and Buck feels his chest expanding, something so tender and warm growing there, so he lifts Eddie’s face up, leans down until their noses are touching, and Eddie huffs a small laugh, shakes his head before slightly tilting his face up to press a kiss to Buck’s nose.

Buck melts, so much so he starts slipping down the headboard, until he’s awkwardly propped up against the pillow, his arm is still wrapped around Eddie’s waist, so he’s dragging both of them down the bed.

“We need to get up,” Eddie says, and makes no move to actually get out of bed.

“Yeah,” Buck says agreeably as he tries to sneakily slip all the way down, so that they’re both lying down on the bed.

Eddie tsks, shuffling around to get more comfortable. “We have to make dinner. And the laundry.”

Buck hums, tightening his arm around him, and closes his eyes.

The room is dim now, the house quiet, and Eddie is warm against his side, pressing kisses to Buck’s shoulder and chest before sighing and laying his head there.

Buck smiles.

ao3 link

for @abarbaricyalp’s prompt 16. touching noses from this list <3

[somecouplestolove]

As promised, here’s secret relationship #buddie ❤️(feat.Chimney)

My commissions are opened!! Dm me if interested!!

[somecouplestolove]

[somecouplestolove]

oh, your love is sunlight ☀️

(spicier ver on my twt if you’re interested… @emxxrose)

[somecouplestolove]

Buddie 22, for the kiss prompts

22. ...in a rush of adrenaline 

Eddie’s been back from Texas for three days, and Buck’s not done being giddy about it. Every time he looks over and sees Eddie’s turnouts hanging up by the engine bay, or Eddie’s water bottle sitting on the table, or Eddie’s phone left sitting on the jumpseat next to Buck’s, he gets a little jolt of joy, like there’s a tiny dude in Buck’s chest who keeps doing fistpumps. And that’s nothing compared to the joy of getting to look at Eddie himself, which Buck is just drinking in like a plant coming out of a drought. 

It’s a busy shift, so they don’t have a ton of time to sit and catch up, but honestly they don’t really need to catch up? They talked every day that Eddie was away. What Buck missed was this—Eddie’s thigh pressed against his in the truck, Eddie rolling his eyes when Chim asks if he still remembers how to drive in LA traffic, Cap saying “Buck, Eddie, you’re on the roof,” and running for the stairs, confident that Eddie is right behind him. 

The last call of the day is a rope rescue, two kids messing around in Sunken City who fell halfway down the crumbling cliff when a chunk of old concrete gave way. Cap sends the two of them down at once, Ravi and Chim working the ropes above. It’s a tricky angle, both kids clinging onto the concrete slab and trying not to breathe, the slab balanced on a rock like a seesaw. Pulling one kid into a harness could send the other kid to the ground, so they have to work in perfect, careful unison. It’s even trickier, because one of the kids has a broken leg, and needs to be put into a basket. It’s hard, painstaking, dangerous work.

It goes flawlessly. Eddie anticipates his every move, Buck reaching out automatically to compensate whenever Eddie makes a decision. Eddie gets his kid strapped to the basket, Buck carefully counterbalancing the slab while easing his kid into the harness. Around them the day is blue and perfect, the Pacific spread out a hundred feet beneath them, a gentle California sun shining cloudlessly down on the back of Buck’s neck, turning Eddie’s eyes a warm golden brown. They push off at the same time, and the slab rocks wildly and plummets down to the rocks below. Buck swings in the air with his patient, is caught by the line, pulled cleanly up through the perfect day. He doesn’t need to look to know that Eddie is doing the same, like knowing where his hand is, like having perfect control over his own body.

They get the kids up to solid ground, hand them off to Chim and Hen to be assessed. They put both kids in the ambo and head out, and Ravi’s wrapping up the ropes, and Buck is so purely, perfectly, utterly happy, filled to bursting with it, happiness straining at the seams of his body and making his breath come too fast. Eddie’s right there, grinning at him, sweaty and out of breath just like Buck, and Buck—can’t keep it together, can’t possibly contain this feeling. It's not a dude fistpumping, now, it's a whole cheering stadium. He grabs Eddie into a fast hard sideways hug, and what he means to do is smack a kiss on Eddie’s cheekbone, but Eddie tilts toward him, not reading Buck’s mind for once, and Buck kisses the corner of Eddie’s mouth.

Eddie laughs through it, says okay, okay, Buck, returns the sideways squeeze, and lets him go. And Buck—

—wants to do it again. 

He manages not to kiss Eddie again as they clean up the scene, get back in the engine, his leg jiggling restlessly up and down, blurting out facts about Sunken City (Did you know that it’s the site of a natural landslide from 1929? The graveyard of a whole neighborhood, slowly sinking into the ocean? Did you know a different part of Point Fermin literally fell into the ocean in 2011? Just a whole section of the road!) while Cap laughs at him and Ravi rolls his eyes and Eddie just sits there smiling fondly at him. It’s a perfect shift, a perfect save, a perfect day. 

Eddie’s mouth is so perfectly unkissed, except for one corner; Buck’s whole body itches at the feeling of a job left undone.

They get back to the station just in time for the end of their shift. Buck still feels wired, shaky with adrenaline and happiness and that deep itchy dissatisfaction—and then Eddie’s waiting for him, leaning against the side of his jeep, and it’s not that Buck didn’t expect it, but it still makes him want to explode. “You want me to drive,” Eddie asks, amused, as Buck’s hands shake a little bit as he gets the keys into the ignition.  “Ha ha,” Buck says, and takes them out of the parking lot, sailing down the 110 (even the traffic cooperates with him! A true LA miracle!) towards his favorite place on earth. So funny, just three days ago it was his least favorite place on earth, or at least a place it hurt to drive past. 

“You good,” Eddie asks, because Buck’s leg is still jiggling. 

“Yeah,” he says, and flashes a smile at him, quick over the steering wheel. “Just a little wired.” 

“Well, don’t crash the car and we can work out your energy when we get to the house,” Eddie says casually, and Buck—doesn’t crash the car.  “Oh yeah?” he asks. “How are you gonna do that?” 

He sees Eddie grin out of the corner of his eye. He expects Eddie to make a joke about taking him for a run, or maybe asking him to play fetch. “I don’t know,” Eddie says instead, something in his voice that is like and not like amusement. He brings his thumb up to rub at the corner of his mouth, the exact place Buck’s accidental kiss landed.  “I’ve got some ideas.” 

Buck’s next breath shakes in and shakes out, like he’s just run a mile. “Eddie,” he says. 

“It’s good to be back,” Eddie says. “I liked Station 26, but it wasn’t the same.” Buck has never hated anything like he hated El Paso Fire Station 26, and he’s also been trying to tell himself for months now that everyone at Station 26 was sharp, competent, good at their jobs. Once he stayed up until four in the morning Google-stalking every single one of Eddie’s new coworkers, trying to figure out which person he most trusted to have Eddie’s back. (He’d decided on this guy Ben, and then he’d stared at Ben’s public Facebook profile—who still had a public Facebook profile?—and imagined Ben giving Eddie a fistbump at a scene, Ben knocking his knee against Eddie’s knee in the truck, Ben and Eddie working together easily and seamlessly and joyfully, Ben having Eddie’s back, Ben coming over for dinner with Eddie and Chris in their new house in El Paso, and he’d wound up angrily crying into his pillow for another forty-five minutes.) “Screw Station 26,” Buck says, with lavish, easy hatred. “They didn’t deserve you anyway.” 

“Harsh,” Eddie says. 

“You said yourself that Captain Reece didn’t even do family dinners! You deserve family dinners, Eddie!” Eddie deserves a lot more than that, in Buck’s opinion. Homemade bread from a really good sourdough starter. His favorite beer from that one brewery in San Pedro that’s always a pain in the ass to drive to. Someone to have his back at all times. A vacation in the Bahamas. A thousand yellow daisies. 

Eddie’s hand lands on Buck’s knee, which he’s jiggling again. Eddie is laughing at him again, low and soft. “Well, I’m back now.” Buck swallows. “You are.” 

Eddie squeezes his knee, and Buck’s stomach jumps visibly through the fabric of his shirt. Eddie doesn’t say anything, but Buck sees him smile. 

Buck turns onto South Bedford street, and whatever easy unspoken thing was there between them in the air over Point Fermin must still be going, because as Buck pulls into the driveway, sliding the jeep into park, Eddie’s sliding a hand onto his shoulder. “Hey,” he says.  Buck twists to face Eddie, the gearshift between them, his heart thundering, Eddie’s thumb pressed into the dip above his clavicle. “Hey,” he says. 

Eddie is smiling at him, fond and a little incredulous. “You wanna finish the job now?” He taps the corner of his mouth with his free hand, and Buck’s stomach does a flip. 

Buck wants to ask how the hell Eddie reads his mind like that, but he’s too busy leaning in, cradling Eddie’s beautiful face in his hands, and kissing Eddie square on the lips. Eddie ruins it immediately by laughing into the kiss, but that’s okay. Better than okay; it’s perfect, Eddie laughing and Buck laughing into his mouth, the kiss somehow still continuing, awkward and hilarious and sincere. 

“I didn’t mean to do that,” Buck confesses eventually, after Eddie has been very, very thoroughly kissed. "The, um, whole thing was an accident. Adrenaline, and, um. Bad timing. Not that I'm complaining! I definitely wanted to, um—but I swear to you I have better game than that. I swear it's gonna be way better from, uh, from here on out." "Jesus Christ," Eddie says, quietly glowing in the afternoon light. "I missed you."

"Oh," Buck says, and kisses Eddie again.

[somecouplestolove]

Buck is mindlessly browsing through suits when Eddie steps out of the changing room, arms spread out a little, hair swooping, cheeks pink, and a bright smile stretching his lips.

Buck’s breath hitches, and he blinks once, twice, before abandoning the rack of suits and walking over to Eddie.

“What do you think?” Eddie asks, still smiling brightly, like he already knows what Buck thinks.

“Do a spin,” Buck says, sounding a little breathless, and Eddie laughs, but he does do a spin, raising an eyebrow when Buck fails to look away fast enough from how the pants are snuggly hugging his ass.

“Yeah,” Buck says softly, “That’s the one.”

Eddie beams. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” Buck takes another step closer, and now he’s close enough Eddie has to slightly tilt his face up to keep looking at his face. “Yeah, it is.”

Eddie’s cheeks glow a deeper shade of red, his eyes softening. “Okay. Okay, good.”

Buck hums, still staring; can’t find it in himself to look away. “God, Eddie,” he whispers, wonderstruck, “look at you.”

“You are,” Eddie whispers back, and the space between them is getting smaller and smaller.

“Well, how could I not?” Buck breathes, their lips almost brushing. “Prettiest ass in—”

Eddie pulls back a little with a laugh. “Evan Buckley.”

Buck’s cheeks hurt from smiling so wide when he says, “Yeah, baby?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, places a small, quick kiss to Buck’s smile. “No need to flatter me, I’m already marrying you.”

Buck’s smile grows even bigger, somehow. “Hell yeah, you are.”

Then he places a hand on Eddie’s waist, gently nudging until he turns around and they’re both facing the mirror. He pulls Eddie closer to him, arm wrapped around his waist, until his back is pressed to Buck’s chest, and his eyes meet his in their reflection.

Eddie’s whole face softens, placing his hands on the arm wrapped around him, then he turns his head to the side, looking expectantly until Buck leans in.

“Hell yeah, I am,” he says belatedly, right into Buck’s lips, then kisses him.