#118 weeks at number one! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

simplyhughes · 1 month ago

Text

Reunion | Evan “Buck” Buckley x Reader

WC: 2.2K

Request: “Pis pls plss do a childhood friends to lovers w buck like she moved to La to be close to buck and everyone at the 118 thinks they're dating because of how close they are but they aren't dating YET and can you please try to throw in a heated argument between them that ends with a heated kiss!!!!!! Pls plss plsss”

Pairing: Evan Buckley X Fem!Reader

Warning: sad childhood ?? Idk nothing rlly

A/N: Please give me feedback!! I hope you like it!!!

It was always Buck and Y/N—everyone knew that. The two of you had been inseparable ever since you moved in next door in the second grade. It all started with Maddie babysitting you for some extra pocket money. You adored her; she was the sister you’d always wished for. And when Buck began tagging along, the rest was history.

The day Buck told you he’d been kicked out of community college, your heart broke for him. When you pulled away from the hug meant to comfort him, he shared that Maddie had given him some money to figure out his next steps. You questioned him, pestered him, trying to keep him from doing something irrational. By the end of the conversation, he stormed out of your apartment, slamming the door behind him, leaving you sitting there in tears.

Once Buck hit the road to California, his regret set in. He knew he had to do this for himself, to find himself. His guilt poured in like rainfall. After a couple hours of driving, A few hours into the drive, he pulled into a rest stop with a diner and ordered coffee and pancakes. Without thinking, he dialed your number, desperate to make things right. The two of you talked for over an hour, hashing out everything. You understood his need for a fresh start, but it devastated you that it wouldn’t include you.

When the call ended, both parties felt relieved. You promised to come visit when you finished school and both of you vowed to stay in touch. The vow was never broken. Everyday you hear new thrilling anecdotes of Evans' life. The trashing fire he put out, now that he was a firefighter, or the crazy new fling of the week. Though every time he brings up a new girl you feel your heart pang, you stay happy for him and you're grateful to hear his voice.

After you received your diploma, you wasted no time. With your degree in hand and a mix of nerves and excitement in your chest, you booked the next flight to the City of Angels. Maddie, now living in Los Angeles herself, was the one who gave you Buck’s current address.

You’d thought about this moment for years, imagining how it would feel to see him again. The two of you had kept in touch, but phone calls and texts could only do so much. You wanted to be there in person, to see him in his element, living the life he’d always dreamed of.

When you arrived, standing outside his apartment door, you hesitated. What if things had changed too much? What if the years apart had built walls that even your bond couldn’t break? But before you could overthink it, the door swung open, and there he was—Buck, with his boyish grin and those familiar eyes that held both surprise and joy.

“Y/N?” he said, his voice laced with disbelief.

“Hi, Buck,” you replied, your heart pounding.

Without a second thought, he engulfed you in a bone-crushing hug, sweeping you off the ground and spinning you around like a rag doll. When your feet finally touched the floor, his hands cupped your face, his eyes searching yours.

“You look beautiful, Y/N. I missed you so much,” he confessed.

Before you could reply, his excitement took over. “Oh! You have to meet my team! They’re going to love you…” He rambled on about how great they were, how much he’d missed you, and how everyone already knew all about you.

Grabbing your hand, he led you out of the apartment and down to the parking lot. It was crazy—like no time had passed at all. Everything between you felt natural, just as it had before he left.

Buck opened the door of his Jeep, helping you into the passenger seat before rushing around to climb in himself.

“Wait… Are we really going to meet them?” you asked nervously. You’d heard so much about his team, but this was all so sudden.

“Well, I was already on my way to work. This is perfect! Don’t worry—they already know all about you,” he assured you with a grin.

The firehouse was bigger than you’d thought. Buck leads the way with you trailing closely behind him, almost hiding yourself from the fire fighters inside the house.

“HEYYY BUCKAROO!” Echoed through the house, originating from on top of one of the fire engines.

“Hey Chim! Look- I brought someone!” Buck chirped.

“You brought someone?” Spoke a man who had walked out of the locker room. From all the pictures that Buck sent of his new LA family, you were pretty sure this was Eddie. Now standing in the middle of the fire house, Buck tugged on your arm pulling you out in front of him. You are now face to face with three members of Evans team. Chim, who was on top of the Engine, climbs his way down standing next to Eddie.

“Guys, this is Y/N!” Buck exclaims, acting as if this was an elementary show and tell.

“Wait, the Y/N?” A woman you “knew” as Hen questioned.

“Like Pennsylvania Y/N?” Eddie followed up.

“That's me.” You reply sheepishly, giving them a small wave.

“It is very nice to meet you Y/N, I’m Bobby” The older of the four introduced himself, sticking out his hand for you to shake.

“Captain Nash, right?” You question, shaking his hand softly. In return, he nods with a sweet smile.

You shuffle back, finding your place next Buck, whose beaming smile never left his face. He loops an arm around your waist, giving you a reassuring nod. Buck announces he is gonna give you the “grand tour” of the fire house. He clasps your hand with his as he pulls you off upstairs.

Hen, Chim and Eddie lounged across the couch, subtling watching you and Buck. Your elbows rest on the kitchen counter sipping on a glass of water Buck poured for you. His mouth is talking a mile a minute, subconsciously always keeping a hand on you. The other firefighters watch Buck, noting his eyes gleaming with awe. Buck sweeps his large hand across your forehead sweeping a strand of hair out from your face.

“I missed you” He whispers as he pulls you in for a hug.

“I missed you too—” You began to respond before you got rudely interrupted by the piercing sound of the alarm.

“Hey, you can go back to my place or hangout here. Whatever you want, mkay? I gotta go, but I'll see you too.” He quickly explains releasing you from the hug, placing a soft kiss against the top of your head. You didn't even have time to respond before he ran away with a grin. He shoots down the firepole meeting the rest of the team for departure. Overlooking from the banister, you watch him in action. The engine pulls out, sirens blazing. Now you are left all alone.

After a minute, you decided to call an uber back to Buck’s place. Only one problem, you couldn't find your phone. You retraced all your steps and still couldn’t find it. Ten minutes later is when you realize your phone was left back at Buck's apartment. You didn't want to take Buck's car and overstep, so your only option left was to hang around until the 118 got back.

A couple hours later, the truck pulls back into the bay. You watch the team file off the truck, shedding their heavy gear and recapping about the recent call. After a minute you spot Buck and his group.

“So, what's with you and Y/N?” Hen asks.

“What do you mean?” He hums, tossing his jacket over his shoulder.

“You’re like attached by the hip!” Chim jokes.

“You guys together?” Eddie pesters nudging Bucks shoulder.

“Huh? What? Nonono, she has been my best friend since forever! Like a second sister!” He defends himself. That felt like a kick to your gut. Suddenly, your stomach swirled with lost hope. A gloss film spread across your eyes, but you tilted your head up to rid the tears.

After the team put all their stuff away, Buck spots you in a similar spot to where he left you. He gestures you to make your way down to him. You sluggishly trot down the stairs, approaching him.

“I thought you woulda left.”

“I forgot my phone back at your place, I wanted to call an uber.”

“You could have taken my car! But m’sorry, I hope you were able to entertain yourself.”

“It was no problem.” You shrugged.

“You good “Y/NN?” He questioned, voice laced with concern.

In return, you nod offering your best smile. “Just jetlagged.” You lied.

“Here i'll get you an uber. I'm on call for a few more hours and I'll be home ASAP.” He smiled, opening the app on his phone.

You sprawled out against Bucks couch, flicking through the channels on tv. But you are too lost in your head to decide on a show. Not only did you realize your feelings for Buck but how could you have been so foolish to think he thought of you that day? He is a jacked firefighter with all the gorgeous LA girls at his disposal. You were just next door neighbor Y/N.

Buck arrives back at the apartment a few hours later, exhausted but grinning when he sees you sprawled on the couch.

“Y/N, you here?” he calls out, dropping his bag by the door.

“Yeah, on the couch.,” you reply, sitting up, though your voice lacks its usual spark.

He notices. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You hesitate, but the events of the day are still fresh. He tosses a pillow off the couch, making room for himself, plopping down next to you. Finally, you blurt out, “Why did you say that to them?”

Buck freezes, confused. “Say what?”

“That I’m like a second sister to you,” you snap, the words spilling out before you can stop them.

Buck’s brows knit together. “Because that’s what you are! What’s wrong with that?”

The emotional dam breaks. “Because I’m not your sister, Buck! I flew across the country to be here—to be with you. Do you even realize how much you mean to me? And to hear you say that…” You trail off, your voice cracking.

He steps closer, his voice softening. “Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that. I just—”

“You just don’t see me the way I see you,” you cut him off, tears threatening to spill. “And that’s fine, Buck. But I can’t keep pretending this is enough.”

Buck’s jaw tightens, and his frustration rises. “You think I don’t care about you? I care about you more than anything—maybe too much. That’s why I said it, okay? Because if I lose you, I don’t know what I’d do!”

His words hit you like a freight train, and the room goes silent except for your uneven breathing.

“Then stop saying things like that,” you whisper.

Buck stares at you, his chest heaving. “You have no idea how hard it was to be that far away from you. And now to be this close to you and not—”

“Not what?” you challenge, stepping closer.

His restraint snaps. “This,” he whispers, and in one fluid motion, he cups your face and crashes his lips against yours.

The kiss is searing, all pent-up frustration and years of unspoken feelings spilling over. Your hands tangle in his hair as you pull him closer, melting into him as though the world outside doesn’t exist.

When you finally break apart, both of you are breathless, his forehead resting against yours, the only sound being you struggling to catch your breath.

“I’ve loved you for so long, Y/N. It killed me to leave you.” he admits, his voice hoarse.

Your heart swells, and a small smile tugs at your lips. “Took you long enough to say it Buckley.”

He pulls you into another hug, his strong arms wrapping around you tightly like he’s afraid to let go. “So…does this mean you’re not leaving anytime soon?”

“Not unless you want me to,” you tease, your voice lighter now.

Buck leans back, his eyes meeting yours. “I don’t want you to go. Ever.”

“You’re stuck with me, Buck,” you murmur, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“Good,” he says, pressing a kiss to your hair.

#simplyhughes #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley imagine #buck 911 #buck imagine #buck x reader #evan buck buckely #911 #911 imagine

249 notes · View notes

fandom-oneshots-etc · 1 year ago

Note

Hey, can you write a story about Evan Buckley and Reader announcing that she’s pregnant to the 118 at like a family gathering :)

🍄 Pairing: Evan Buckley x Reader

🍄 Genre: Fluff

🍄 Summary: At a 118 family gathering, Buck's overprotective nature reveals a little more than the two of you had planned.

🍄 Word Count: 1618

🍄 Abbreviations: N/A

🍄 Warnings: Pregnancy, implied pregnancy complications

🍄 Note: I really liked this request Anon! I hope this is what you were looking for. I thought about this scenario and I instantly imagined Buck accidentally announcing the pregnancy rather than planned. If you would rather a planned version, just pop in another request. A similar request came from @quinnstan247. Enjoy :)

You could feel the eyes following you closely as you slipped into the kitchen to refill your glass of orange cordial. Your overprotective, puppy-dog boyfriend remained outside in the garden of the Nash household along with the rest of the team as they stood around Bobby and the BBQ grill. You knew that Buck was searching for any reason he could to follow you inside, but you met his gaze through the windows and offered him a reassuring smile that seemed to subdue him for the minute.

Since the second you found out, Buck had been glued to your side. It had been three weeks since you took that test, since your doctor had confirmed it and in that time you had, had to convince him every single day that he could leave you and go to work. Every day he fought you, wanting the both of you to stay home so you could rest and he could wait on your every want and need, but you couldn’t do that. You were only thirteen weeks along and there was hardly any reason to be confined to the bed just yet. You knew that he was only concerned about the safety of you and the peach you currently carried in your womb. It was endearing and one of the sweetest things you’d ever seen, you hadn’t thought that Buck could get any sweeter, but here you were one act away from having a mouth full of cavities.

What hadn’t helped was that Buck had been responding to a number of pregnancy calls in the past few weeks a few resulting in sadder endings than anyone wanted. They had definitely struck a chord with Buck and had only made him hover all the more.

Adding the water to your cordial, you took a sip of the orange, a light buzz filling your taste-buds. You had become obsessed with anything orange flavoured since your pregnancy diagnosis. Whether it was orange skittles (which Buck had kindly sat and sorted out for you), or orange flavoured chocolate, or even the orange flavoured cupcakes you had found at the grocery store and ate within an hour of buying, anything orange and you were all for it.

Walking back into the garden, your entire body seemed to clench a little as you stepped back into the gaze of the sun. As much as you were enjoying this down time with the 118, it was so hot. The heatwave had only hit LA in the past few days but already it was in full swing and you were feeling every beam of it.

“Y/n,” you turned over to where Athena was sat with Hen and her daughter May. The three of them were stood around the mini bar that Athena had installed, in direct sunlight. Already hot, you fought down the urge to grimace as you moved to stand by them, the sun glaring on your skin. “We were just telling May about Buck and that kiddie ride at the mall. She doesn’t believe us.” Hen informed and a grin split across your lips, taking your mind off of the sweltering heat.

“Oh my, God. I have a photo, hang on,” You pulled your phone out of your shoulder bag and set your drink on the bar, thumb flicking through the many photos in your gallery in search of the one from the Saturday before. “He thought it was funny and I tried to tell him he wouldn’t fit but he insisted,” You giggled and turned your phone for May to see. “I honestly thought I’d have to call nine-one-one.”

Displayed across your screen was the photo that still had you giggling a week later. There sat Buck, who had squeezed his way into the small metal bus which was obviously aimed for children 7 and under. But Buck had twisted his body at all kinds of angles and had somehow managed to worm his way into the ride. His head was poked out of the door hole, his legs curled up against his chest, unable to stretch out in the tiny space that his body was occupying.

What Athena and the others didn’t know was that Buck wouldn’t have gotten into the ride if it wasn’t for you. That morning your hormones had been playing you like a fiddle and every little thing had upset you, the bin bag had broken when you were trying to change it out for a new one, somehow a red sock had slipped in with your whites and now everything you owned was slightly toned pink and they had shown that advert with the puppy sat in a box, in the rain, on the side of the street with people walking past ignoring it. It seemed, that morning, that everything was stacked against you. Buck had offered to come with you to the mall so you could pick up your clothing order from a store, you had ordered certain items that they didn’t have in stock and they had delivered into the store the day before. You were buzzing to see the new pair of pumps you had ordered. You knew that in a few months if not weeks, the shoes would probably be pressing against the sides of your feet and ankles because of the pregnancy swelling, but that hadn’t stopped you from ordering them in your size. However, like everything else that morning, even that didn’t go as planned. The shoes had been delivered in the wrong colour and in a size smaller than you wanted, making them impossible to wear. Buck had seen how disheartened you had been when you left the store, trying not to cry in frustration. He had wanted to do something to cheer you up and in a joking manner he had made a bet with you that he could fit inside the kiddie bus ride.

It had definitely succeeded in cheering you up, if not from how silly he looked, his large muscular frame curled up inside the ride, from when he got stuck and couldn’t get himself out straight away. You had done what you could to help him out, but you were giggling so hard your entire body went weak. When he had finally gotten out, the two of you had continued to giggle all the way home and your mood had been lifted for the rest of the day.

“Oh, my God,” May giggled. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. Please send me that!” she begged.

“Of course,” you agreed with a laugh of your own. “I could never gate keep on a photo like this.”

“What made him get in there?”

“It’s Buck, does he need a reason?” Hen scoffed. As the ladies continued to giggle, the heat seemed to make it’s presence known as it glared down onto you. The side of your temples was beginning to throb and your skin was starting to get slick and sticky, sweat oozing from your pores. You raised a hand to swipe at your brow, glancing around the garden for the closest seat, your legs aching.

As you moved towards one of the sun loungers, your boyfriend’s eyes caught onto your movements, already on high alert.

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” he asked, abandoning his drink at the grill and rushing towards you, one arm slipping around your waist to help guide you to the seat.

“Buck, I’m-”

“Dammit, it’s too hot out here for you. We should’ve cancelled,” he began muttering to himself. “Are you dizzy? Do you need a drink of water? What about something to eat? Is your blood sugar low? What if you’re dehydrated?” The only thing making you dizzy was the hurricane of questions Buck was sending your way, not even leaving a chance for you to answer them. One of his hands instinctively came to rest on the front of your stomach.

“Babe? Baby?” You tried to pull Buck out of his panicked rant, his eyes not once meeting yours as he kept scanning you for any visible injuries. Not that there were any, but the paranoia was getting the best of him and the heat probably wasn’t helping.

“We should get you in the shade,” he decided. “Shit, you should’ve stayed inside. You’re carrying precious cargo now, baby. You and peach can’t take this heat. We shouldn’t have come. This is all my fault-”

“Buck!” You pressed your hands to the sides of his face, directing his eyes to yours so you could try and ground him. “Buck, baby, I’m fine. We’re fine. I’m just a little hot and tired that’s all. It’s normal.” He still seemed a little uncertain, and his eyes held a lifetime of worry for you and his unborn child. “We’re okay. I promise.” You offered him a reassuring smile, your thumb coming to brush against his bottom lip rhythmically, giving him something to focus on. His eyelids pressed shut as he breathed slowly for a second.

“Are you sure? ‘Cause we can go home-”

“We’re fine. I just need to sit for a minute that’s all.” You peeked over his shoulder. “While I’m sitting, we should probably talk to the people behind you, they seem a little shocked. You kind of let the cat out of the bag.” Buck twisted his head to look around at the team behind him, everyone stood, jaws dropped and eyes wide. Eddie was the most comical of the bunch, his glass halfway raised to his mouth ready to take a sip but frozen in time with the news that Buck had unintentionally shared.

“H-Hey, guys,” He chuckled awkwardly with a sheepish grin. “I guess we have some news to share.”

2K notes · View notes

saveyourblood · 1 month ago

Text

Pretty Boy - Ch 6 (Buddie x Reader)

Summary: You can feel Buck staring. When your eyes meet his, you realize he’s staring at your hand, which is still on Eddie’s knee. You slowly retreat, which makes Buck turn his attention to your face. You smile softly. He just looks out the window. The one where you’re an advanced paramedic, Buck and Eddie are firefighters, and you think you might be in love with both of them.

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5

Chapter Summary: The tension between you and Buck brings you and Eddie closer.

Word Count: 3.3k Warnings: none

Things between you and Buck are… weird. Awkward. Uncomfortable. The last time you had a real conversation with him, it was a fight, but it ended with you saying how much you care about him. It’s left you feeling like there’s an open wound on your chest, one that exposes your heart. You feel vulnerable, and you hate it. Your hatred of the feeling triumphs over your desire to be around him, at least for now.

In a weird silver lining, your lack of time with Buck has created room for one of your other coworkers — Eddie. Talking to Eddie when Buck was around always felt strange, like there was something in the air that wasn’t supposed to be. Which is funny, because when it’s the two of them, they’re as thick as thieves. Something about you being in the mix feels like adding oil to water.

You like to think you’ve gotten to know Eddie relatively well in the last few weeks. So when he’s staring off into space while the rest of the team is eating breakfast, you don’t feel awkward asking what he’s thinking about.

“Nothing,” he says, turning his coffee mug absentmindedly. “Just… this new school with Christopher.”

“Don’t think it’s a good fit?” You ask.

“No, it’s perfect,” Eddie replies, turning his attention to you.

You smile softly. “Then what’s the problem?”

“They need to do a family interview.”

“Again, what’s the problem?” you chuckle. “I mean, aren’t the divorce and custody agreement papers enough?”

“They would be… if I had them.”

You frown. “What?”

Eddie sighs as he rubs his forehead. He leans closer so you’re the only one who can hear him. “We’re still married.”

Apparently, you don’t know a goddamn thing about Eddie.

“Oh,” is all you manage to get out.

Eddie chuckles briefly. “Yeah.”

“Wow. Just… from how you talk about her, you made it sound like things were… over over. Like, officially over.”

“ Shannon and I aren’t officially… anything these days.”

“You’re officially husband and wife.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but he smiles as he does it. “Touché.”

“What’re you gonna do?” you ask softly after a moment.

He sets his elbows on his knees and clasps his hands together. “I don’t know.”

You just watch him and can’t shake the helplessness that washes over you. Eddie’s in a tough spot; no matter what you say, you can’t fix it. All you can do is be there.

“Tell me what I can do,” you say.

Eddie looks up at you with a lopsided grin. There aren’t many things you wouldn’t do to keep it on his face.

“I’ve been told I’m a lot of fun when I drink,” you continue. “Well, when I have three drinks I’m fun: that’s when I get dancy. After five drinks, I get sad. You can pick the number.”

Eddie laughs.

9-1-1 dispatch is down, making doing your job almost impossible. LA is a maze; without GPS navigation, you rely on your phone and eyes to do most of the work. It’s a miracle that dispatch existed before computers.

You’re in the passenger’s seat of the rig, and you tell Hen to make a right turn. When you pull up to what’s supposed to be the scene, though, there’s nothing.

“Dispatch, this is RA 118,” you say into the radio. “There’s nothing here.”

“No pregnant woman?” A dispatcher asks.

“There’s no building. It’s an empty lot.”

“Stand by, 118.”

You hang the radio with a huff.

“What’s going on with you?” Hen asks.

You frown and look over at her. “What?”

“You’ve been… off lately,” she explains. “Like, you’ve got this short fuse now.”

“Why shouldn’t I? We can’t even do our fucking jobs because some moron can’t fix a computer!”

Hen raises her eyebrows.

“Okay, point taken.”

“Buck says you two haven’t talked in a while.”

“Well, he’s a firefighter and I’m a paramedic. We can work the same shift and not see each other,” you shrug. “ I don’t know why he’s talking to you about it.”

“I’m not sure, but… it sounded like I’m not the only one worried about you.”

You play with your hands in your lap.

Hen sighs. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but I hope it gets fixed, because you two are miserable without each other.”

“It’s not like that-”

Hen raises a hand to silence you. “I don’t know what you guys are… best friends, work spouses, or dating. Frankly, I don’t care. All I know is that, for better or for worse, you need each other. “

“118, you're gonna need to proceed to San Vicente, east of the Miracle Mile District,” dispatch crackles over the radio. “The nearest cross street is Sixth.”

You pick it up and push the button. “RA 118, copy that.”

“Where the hell have you guys been?”

When you finally arrive at the correct building, you’re faced with a pregnant woman lying on the lobby floor. A small crowd has formed around them, which you push your way through.

“We are fighting a system outage, sir,” Bobby explains, “we apologize for the delay.”

You crouch next to the patient on one side while Hen starts an IV on the other side.

“Hi,” you introduce yourself and don some gloves. “What’s your name?”

“Sonia. I’m 39 weeks pregnant, and 38 years old, which makes me a geriatric pregnancy,” she laughs a little. “God, I hate that word.”

“Word doesn’t matter: you still get a baby out of it,” you smile. “I’m gonna check how progressed you are, okay?”

She nods.

“10 centimeters, 100% effaced,” you observe. “You’re doing great, okay? On this next contraction, you’re gonna push, alright, Sonia?”

She doesn’t respond, so you look up.

Her expression changed. A moment ago, she was nervous but smiling. Now, her face is flattened, and she’s staring ahead at nothing.

“There's something wrong with the baby,” she says quietly.

Your body goes numb.

There are a few things you never want to hear a patient say, and ‘something is wrong’ might be at the top of the list. It’s called ‘impending doom’ — there’s no obvious threat, but it feels like something is about to go terribly wrong. You’ve seen patients die within minutes of saying something doesn’t feel right.

“Your baby is fine, Sonia,” you assure. “You'll-you'll be able to see for yourself in just a minute.”

“No! No, this was a mistake, all of it,” Sonia cries. “Roger was right to panic. Look, we can't do this. I can't... I can't do this. I shouldn't have this child.”

“Hey! Hey, Sonia, look at me,” you say, patting her knee to get her attention.

It takes her a moment, but her eyes eventually meet yours.

“All you have to do is push,” you tell her. “That’s it, okay? Just push.”

She still looks terrified, yet she nods.

On the next contraction, Sonia pushes. You coach her through the contractions, telling her when to push and when to rest. It only takes a few rounds until the baby is fully born.

“He’s here!” you exclaim as you wrap the baby in a towel.

There’s some happy laughter and a round of applause from the crowd as the baby cries.

“Beautiful boy, it’s time you meet your mom,” you say as you move to place the baby on Sonia’s chest.

She’s staring at the ceiling, her expression slack.

“I’ve got the baby,” Eddie interrupts, taking the baby from you so you can work.

“Sonia?” you say, rubbing your knuckles on her sternum. She winces, but barely.

“I can’t get a systolic above 70,” Hen says as she deflates the blood pressure cuff.

“She’s cyanotic,” you say, noting the blue tinge to her lips and fingernails. “She’s in shock.”

“Hemorrhagic?” Hen questions.

“She’s barely bleeding,” you shake your head.

You press your fingers to her neck. You don’t feel a pulse.

“Lost a pulse, starting compressions!” you shout.

Everything starts to move a hell of a lot quicker. Within seconds, the defibrillator is at your side, and as you compress Sonia’s chest, Hen is placing the pads. Eddie has a finger on her neck to ensure your compressions are effective.

When you get Sonia on the gurney, Eddie tags you out as the compressor to give you a break. Your entire body shakes with adrenaline, yet you help pack her into the rig and climb inside.

“She was fine,” Eddie mutters as he compresses. “Birth was going like clockwork, even for a geriatric pregnancy.”

“Sudden despair and fear and anxiety, rapid loss of BP, subsequent cardiovascular collapse…” you think aloud. It dawns on you. “Oh my god.”

“What?”

You’re reaching for your phone, dialing the phone number of the hospital you’re heading to. “It’s an Amniotic Fluid Embolism.”

Eddie looks over to you. His brow is damp with sweat. “She could be in DIC.”

“She needs Mass Transfusion Protocol,” you agree. You raise the phone to your ear. “LA general, this is RA 118 en route, I need to speak to your ER charge nurse.”

When you’re rolling through the ER doors, you’re kneeling over Sonia on the gurney as you do compressions. Doctors and nurses are shouting directions at each other, but all you focus on is your arms moving up and down.

You hop off so they can move her off of the gurney and onto the hospital bed. In the process, you notice that the defibrillator is showing Sonia’s in Ventricular Tachycardia — a shockable rhythm.

“V-Tach,” you say normally at first, then shout. “V-Tach! Everyone clear!”

The ER staff has no idea who you are, but when someone shouts those words, anyone with a medical background knows to listen. Everyone backs away with their hands raised. After hitting the ‘charge’ button, you do a quick survey to ensure no one is touching Sonia. Then, you hit the lightning bolt to deliver a shock.

Sonia’s body jerks at the electricity. The EKG tracing goes from tombstone shapes to a flatline. Then, there’s a beep and a QRS complex. Then another, and another.

“Got a pulse!” a random voice shouts.

You make your way out of the trauma bay and into the hallway, where Eddie’s waiting for you.

“That was… amazing,” Eddie says.

You stand next to him wordlessly. You nod but then let out a sob as you collapse against the wall.

Eddie helps lower you to the floor. He keeps a hand on your shoulder, squeezing tightly.

“God, this is embarrassing,” you remark between a few sobs.

“It isn’t,” Eddie immediately responds. “We’ve all been there.”

“It’s, uh, it’s how my mom died,” you say with a sad laugh. “They didn’t catch it in time. She bled to death internally. I just… I don’t know what I would’ve done if she didn’t pull through.”

“She did,” Eddie says, moving his hand from your shoulder to your knee. “She pulled through because of you.”

You nod again, wiping away some of your tears. “Thank you.”

Eddie nods in return. You notice that his gaze goes from your eyes to your lips and back up to your eyes.

It happens in the smallest of movements, but before you know it, your forehead is pressed against Eddie’s. You can feel his breath on your mouth. You quietly gasp at the sensation, and it makes him sigh.

You press your lips together. “You’re married.”

“She wants a divorce,” Eddie whispers.

You smile sadly. “You’re still married.”

Eddie sighs again, but this time, he moves away from you.

“I’m not saying it can never happen,” you say quietly. “All I’m saying is that I’m not that kind of girl. And you definitely aren’t that kind of guy.”

Eddie nods, his mouth shifting into a few different expressions.

You rise to your feet and offer Eddie a hand. “Let’s get back to work, Edmundo.”

Eddie laughs genuinely at the use of his full name. He takes your hand and uses it to help get himself up, but he continues holding it when he’s standing.

“Back to work,” he agrees and squeezes your hand before letting go.

You’re heading out a scene call, fire in progress with multiple victims suspected. You’re driving the rig while Eddie sets up the back. The 118 is the nearest firehouse, so your unit will be the first on the scene. It comes with a lot of responsibility, but you know you and Eddie are ready for it.

That is, until there’s a massive ‘BOOM’ from behind you.

You immediately pull over and look in your rearview. The engine following behind you is now on fire and lying on its side in the middle of the intersection. You can see a few firefighters lying on the pavement.

“Eddie, grab our bags!” you shout as you unclick your seatbelt.

You fly out of the rig and meet Eddie in the back. Instead of handing you your bag, he sets a hand on your shoulder and pushes you both to the side of the ambulance.

“What the hell?” You ask.

“There’s a bomber,” he says in a low tone.

“What?” you ask again, peering to the side of him.

Sure enough, there’s a kid — no older than twenty — with several pipe bombs strapped to his chest. He’s holding what appears to be the detonator in his hand. Someone is laying at his feet, his leg pinned under the passenger side of the engine.

Buck was sitting in the passenger’s seat.

You try rushing forward again, and Eddie grabs you by the waist this time.

“It’s Buck!” you scream as you struggle against him.

“I know,” Eddie says, his arms wrapped around you as he presses your back to his chest.

“We have to do something!” you cry, still thrashing against Eddie.

“We have to wait for the scene to clear,” Eddie explains. It’s more than a little annoying how calm he sounds. “If you go in now, both of you could die.”

“So what, we just let him die?” You ask, but you’ve stopped fighting.

Eddie doesn’t say anything, but his grip around you loosens. Eventually, you feel his arms drop back to his sides. That’s when you make a run for it.

You make it far enough to catch the bomber’s attention. You raise your hands in the air.

“I’m not who you want,” you explain, “I just want to help him. He has nothing to do with this. He has friends and family… he’s my family. Please, just let me help him.”

The bomber looks from you to Buck, then back at you. “He’s collateral damage.”

“Is that how you see yourself?” Bobby interrupts. He approaches with his hands raised.

The bomber’s attention shifts to Bobby, the person he’s been after this whole time. You use it as a window of opportunity to approach Buck slowly. When you finally reach him, you crouch down by his head.

“Hey, Pretty Boy,” you say softly. You set a hand on his head. “How’re you feeling?”

His left leg is the one that’s pinned, and he’s lying on his stomach. He tries to look up at you. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe.”

“I could say the same thing to you,” you joke. You move your hand to his neck. “Are you in pain?”

“No, just kind of numb,” he says. “That’s not good, right?”

Your heart sinks. “You’re in shock: it’s normal.”

Bobby manages to distract the bomber long enough to subdue him. As the bomber gets rushed off, the rest of your team rushes in.

“Eddie, start two lines, wide open,” you instruct. “Hen, get him in the C-collar.”

You dig in the medi bag for a tourniquet. As you apply it, you try to drown out the sound of Buck crying out in pain.

“How are we doing?” Bobby asks as you stand.

“We’re out of time,” you mumble. “We need to get him out and to the nearest trauma center.”

Any extra body moves to the truck, waiting for the count to lift it. You place yourself in front of Buck, taking both of his hands.

“We’re gonna get you out,” you promise.

He nods slightly.

“Okay, my count,” you say as you move your hands to underneath his arms. “1… 2… 3!”

As everyone begins to push, you start pulling on Buck. He isn’t budging.

“It’s too heavy,” Bobby says.

“We got anything on the truck we can use for leverage?” Eddie suggests.

“No, we need more people,” Chim says, picking up his radio. “Dispatch, this is 118…”

There’s some clattering from across the way. Bystanders are pushing through the barricades to help. This time, you’re able to get him out.

You get him on the backboard, then onto the gurney. The whole time, you’re telling him that he did a good job and that he’ll be okay. As you’re running with him to the ambulance, he mumbles something. Once you’re settled into the rig, you ask him to repeat himself.

“You’re my family, too,” he mutters.

You wait in the waiting room the whole time Buck is in surgery. When he makes it out of recovery and to the ICU room, you don’t leave his side. You’re sure visiting hours are over, but you stay out of the nurse’s way. She doesn’t say anything; she just gives you a sympathetic look every once in a while.

You hear him stir a little bit. You look up from your phone to see Buck blinking awake.

“Welcome back,” you smile.

“You’re here,” he says, voice rough.

“Where else would I be?”

Buck looks around the room, slowly orienting himself. His eyes eventually land on his leg, which is in a cast and suspended in a sling. His eyes widen, and he lets out a few breaths as he tries to sit up.

“Okay, okay,” you set a hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him back. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“Is it?” Buck asks. “Did you talk to the doctor? Did he say anything about how the surgery went?”

“Just that you made it through,” you say softly. “And you're now the proud owner of one titanium rod and four beautifully cobalt-chromed screws.”

“Before they wheeled me in, he, uh… he said he didn't know how it was gonna go.”

You take his hand gently. “You’ll walk again, Buck.”

“Yeah, h-he said… he said he was pretty confident about that. He, uh, he just... he didn't know if I would ever… work again.”

You run a hand over your face. “Okay, I'm not gonna lie to you and tell you everything will work out how you want it to. But what I will say is that we should take this moment to be glad that you’re alive.”

“I’m really sorry about our fight,” Buck apologizes.

You laugh. “Buck, that is… so far from being important right now.”

“No, it isn’t,” he insists. “It wasn’t fair, how I reacted. I’m proud of you. I was just… scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Losing you,” he admits quietly.

“Yeah, well, I was pretty scared of that today, so we’re definitely even,” you joke. Your smile softens and you squeeze his hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You move your hand to his forehead. You trail it down to his cheek, letting it rest for a moment. You turn your body to face him better. His eyes are closed, which you’re grateful for because if he were looking at you, you wouldn’t have the guts to do what you want to do.

You kiss him. It’s hesitant at first, and when he doesn’t react right away, you start to pull back. Before you can, Buck has his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. Your hand moves from his cheek down his neck and eventually rests on his chest. You only pull away when your lungs are burning from lack of air.

Buck traces his thumb over your lips. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

You blush, laugh, and bury your face in the crook of his neck.

Ch 7

#911 abc #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #911 show #911 on abc #911 reader insert #evan buckley/reader #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz #evan buckley x eddie diaz x reader #Buddie x reader #buddie x reader #i can write #pretty boy fic

125 notes · View notes

sexhaver · 7 months ago

Text

definitely one of the most difficult moments of my professional career was when i was doing tech support for [REDACTED]'s automated biomed research lab and like. hang on lemme greentext this

>tell them i can fix this issue in half an hour with a remote support session (aka Teamviewer)

>"you want to... control our computers???? over the internet????? like some kind of HACKER???????"

>their IT submits my request to upper management and after two weeks they reluctantly allow me to get remote access to their systems

>by logging into a virtual machine using a 20-digit password and then using a specific program inside of that virtual machine

>while sharing my screen with someone from their IT team the entire time

>finally get remote access to the PC with the issue

>go to open log files to start troubleshooting

>ERROR: User does not have read permissions.

>what the fuck

>ask their IT guy why it's saying that

>"...because we don't want you looking at our stuff, duh?"

>take deep breath before calmly explaining that i need to open files in order to fix their problem

>IT guy submits my request to upper management

>after another week i go through the whole process again but can actually open the log file this time

>cool, it's exactly the issue i thought it was and i know exactly how to solve it

>open the relevant settings file, change a single number, hit Save

>ERROR: User does not have write permissions.

>what the FUCK

>ask IT guy how i'm supposed to fix their system if i can't change literally anything on it

>takes 20 minutes of arguing to get him to admit that maybe i need write access

>he submits the request to upper management

>a week goes by

>upper management denies it

>says i can just verbally tell the IT guy on the call what to type and he'll do it for me

>deep breaths. deep breaths.

>start third remote session

>go to open the relevant .log file in notepad, which isn't the default program it opens with for some reason

>they fucking disabled right clicking

>[REDACTED] has a $118 billion market cap btw

>manage to walk the IT guy through using the command line (which he had never seen before and was scared of) to edit the relevant file

>three weeks go by

>new support ticket in my inbox

>"why didn't your fix fix this completely unrelated issue?"

>they still won't give me write access

>VP of [REDACTED] yells at me in our weekly meeting for taking so long to fix a third unrelated issue they never submitted a ticket for and is also not actually an "issue" but an intended feature of our software that they don't like

>i went to college for this

#second worst part of that job was getting emails from a customer like #“hey can you bump our ticket to the top of the queue? it's really impacting our ability to do research. no pressure though! :)”#and then i'd check who it's from and it's fucking St. Jude's Children's Hospital #“no pressure but you are directly killing kids with cancer”

219 notes · View notes

thelikesofus · 7 months ago

Text

Buddie Fic Recs

REC LIST NUMBER 6! The theme is PINING if you couldn’t already tell. I haven’t done a lot of writing recently but I have done A LOT of reading so here are some of the lovely stories I have come across over the last few weeks. As always, please show these authors some love in their comments xx REMINDER TO CHECK THE TAGS AND TRIGGER WARNINGS

where our eyes are never closing by @rewritetheending | T | 6k

After the lightning strike, Buck asks Eddie to take candid photos of him to help prove to Buck that he still exists. Absolute PEAK Softness. Buck through Eddie's eyes! I was a mushy puddle by the end. 10/10 would recommend

put my heart inside your palms by @markofalover | T | 3k

An accidental pet name, a thoughtful dinner, and a shared shirt. Buddie are too domestic for my health and well-being! I want what they have!!

because we'll all arrive in heaven alive by @neverevan | E | 75k

During a search and rescue, Eddie disappears without a trace, leaving Buck to grapple with the sudden possibility of a life without him AKA the Mudslide Missing!Eddie fic with pining for daaayyyyyyyzzzzzzz

Left Unsaid by C_M2 | M | 33k

The discovery of a small facebook group full of tsunami survivors rocks station 118. This fic is amazing!! The perfect amount of pining angst, domestic feels and firefam love and goodness 💕💕

If I Should Fall by @elvensorceress | T | 23k

Buck thinks Tommy has died but it's actually Eddie. He is not dead but almost and they have to figure things out from there. This fic had me feeling like my heart has been gutted from my chest and dissected before my very eyes but it has the happy ending we all deserve.

the distance to the stars by cloudydaisies | G | 27k

Eddie is the only one who doesn't realize he and Buck are dating 😭 This is a perfectly sweet and angsty miscommunication fic.

the weekly bet (but the forever kind) by @theleftboobgrabber | E | 49k

The firehouse has a bet and Buck and Eddie work it in their favor. Once again Eddie pining for dayyyyzzzzzzzzzzz. (I’ve been on a Pining!Eddie kick recently). Perfect Buckley Diaz family feels.

light me and i'll burn for you by @woodchoc-magnum | M | 31k

An old friend of Buck's joins the 118 and he kinda sucks. Eddie pines and falls down a hole (literally). Seriously though the pining and the angst in this fic is just delicious and with a happy ending to boot <3

The Aftermath of Liberation and Love Confessions by @elvensorceress | T | 17k

Eddie makes the love confession to end all love confessions while perfecting the balance between pining and not giving a f*ck. I love me a Jenwyn fic and this one is fabulous as always.

love bites so deep and we've got tiger teeth by @usereddie | M | 10k

Rather than going to texas with his grandparents Christopher goes to stay with Buck for an extended sleepover and Eddie realizes he is incredibly in love with his best friend. Honestly I am OBSESSED!!! This is officially my season 7 ending <3

hearts on fire by @woodchoc-magnum | M | 65k

This is a canon divergence on Season 2 where Buck and Eddie almost get together but then Abby comes back and Eddie lets buck go and then regrets it while trying to be happy for him. The pining, the self-sabotage, honestly is all one big tasty meal and topped off with a happy ending and a side salad of the Shannon and Eddie friends/co-parents arc that they deserved!!

like a dog with a bird at your door by @shitouttabuck | E | 51k

Set post s6, Eddie is injured on a call and Buck moves in to help with his recovery whilst learning to navigate his feelings for his best friend and pining for the position Eddie’s girlfriend holds. honestly, I’m actually only halfway through reading this fic but OMG I’M ASDFFGGHJJKKL and I just already knew this would be making it onto the next rec list so I'm adding it to this one preemptively.

#buddie #buddie fic recs #buddie fic rec list 6 #buck x eddie #eddie diaz #evan 'buck' buckley #911 #911 fic recs #meegs rec list

217 notes · View notes

myimaginarywonderland · 9 months ago

Text

I present to you:

Tommy and Josh are friends. Somehow after some calls they got friendly and at one point decided to just hang out after exchanging numbers and texting for a while. They clicked. They found out they both were gay and it's so easy to finally have a friend that gets it.

So at one of their hangouts after the hurrican thing Tommy talks about the stunt the 118 pulled and he is like making fun before he talks about this guy being a literal golden retriever, trying to encourage the them and Josh just laughs and says "That's Buck alright." And Tommy just slowly turns to Josh with a look, a look that Josh has come to know and Josh goes "No Tommy, no."

And Tommy is all like "I didn't even say anything!"

And Josh is like "I get it trust me. First few times I meet him, I also crushed but that man is straight and also a giant idiot. His heart is too big and he wouldn't know how to turn you down. As his friend, I am telling you do not."

And Tommy goes "fine" and then they continue on with Tommy telling Josh about meeting up with Eddie and Josh makes a joke about the two army guys obviously bonding.

Cut to like three weeks later (They have both had different shift schedules and Josh has helped Maddie with the wedding) and they meet up after the restaurant date and Josh can sense something is wrong with his friend.

He wants to probe but Tommy just says "Thought I had a chance with a cute guy bit turns out he wasn't ready for something" and Josh gets it. He's been there, it sucks sometimes and he just offers his friend a shoulder to lean.

Another two weeks pass and when they meet up again Tommy is smiling. Like his nose scrunch smile which he only does when he is really smitten and Josh has truly only seen it once. So he immediately goes into questioning mood but Tommy just laughs and says "You know that cute guy? I think he is ready" but he won't elaborate further. And Josh is trying but Tommy just keeps giving vague answers and wow, Josh truly has never seen Tommy like this and feels a swell of happiness because whoever has his friend smiling like that better be good and worth it.

Josh also coincidentally has a meet up with the Buckley-Han family (they are already married to him basically) and he notices how Buck is glancing at his phone a lot and having this goofy smile and wow. He makes a joke about Buck having found a new girlfriend and Buck sort of freezes and now Josh feels bad but then he smiles such a soft smile it kind of hits him in the chest when he says "I am seeing someone and I am really happy." Cut to Chim wanting to probe but Buck not bugging and Josh just feeling happy for his friend. Maddie suddenly turns and ask "Did you want to bring them to the wedding?" and Buck kind of sheepishly replies "I already invited them." And Maddie softly chuckles talking about how gone her brother is and Josh is suddenly aware that Buck is using only they/them which isn't weird but it's not how Buck usually talks.

And Chim pipes up and says "With how much time you have been spending talking complaining about Tommy before, I have no idea where you suddenly got a date" and OMG.

Buck flushes a bit, Maddie laughs and Josh slaps a hand over his mouth to stop a giggle coming out.

Buck notices of course he does and when they are done later he pulls Josh aside and wants to talk but Josh just throws himself at Buck, hugging him.

"If you break his heart as his friend I have to hurt you. But as your friend, I couldn't be more happier for you" to which Buck kind of melts, chuckles and returns the hug.

On the way home, after some more heartfelt words because he knows how difficult and hard this can be, Josh stops the car at Tommy's flat, knocks up a storm and pushes past Tommy only to explode in the hallway as soon as the door is closed.

"YOU ARE DATING EVAN BUCKLEY AND YOU DIDN'T THINK TO TELL ME!"

And Tommy is a bit flabbergasted and laughs to which Josh kind of gets upset and says "I love you, I am fully in support of your relationship, I couldn't be happier, he is a catch but damn, are you telling me I could have had a chance?"

Which just causes a ridiculous laughing and giggling fit between two grown ass adults that Josh and Tommy will be happy to deny ever happened.

#josh russo #tommy kinard #evan buckley #bucktommy #kinley #tevan

170 notes · View notes

vdlest · 1 year ago

Text

Home Sweet Home

Characters:

Eddie Diaz x Female!Reader

Summary:

The reader and Eddie are living in together with Christopher. You just got home and saw Eddie sleeping in the couch, waiting for you.

Nothing but fluff and sweet conversations

A/N:

I haven’t written anything in a while. Let’s see if I still have it lol!

It’s been a long day for you.

You finished a lot of works today and all you wanted is to crash into the bed and have the best sleep you can get before another long day tomorrow.

You went inside the house and upon opening the light, you saw Eddie lying on the couch, peacefully sleeping.

A smile immediately formed in your lips.

You put down your keys and your bag by the rocking chair and you approached your sleeping boyfriend.

It’s been 2 years since you two met.

There was a huge fire that took place in the hotel you used to work at. You got trapped in one of the guest's rooms because you were trying to rescue one of the guests too. Good thing the firefighters from 118 came to rescue you, and it was Eddie who saved you when you were almost hit by a falling debris.

You owe your life to Eddie.

If it weren't for him, you wouldn't be where you are today.

A few days after the fire, he checked up on you to see you're okay and that you're not experiencing any trauma. Then he went back again after a week, not to just check on you but to get your number. Since the day he got your number, the two of you are constantly exchanging messages.

Until one day, he finally asked you out, and the rest was history.

"Hey," you gently caressed his cheeks to wake him up.

His eyes slowly flicker and when he saw you, he got up and sat down on the couch, "I fell asleep while I was waiting for you."

You sat down beside him, "Yeah, I noticed that."

"You worked pretty late today," he said as he stretched his arms.

"We had a lot of issues today with our upcoming group, so I had to stay and negotiate with them. Good thing I'm finally home," you answered.

He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you as warm as he could make you feel, "Yeah, you're home. Chris was actually waiting for you too, but I guess he fell asleep." You felt Eddie kissed your head, "I guess I'm not the only one who misses you."

"Aww, I miss you and Chris too,” you answered as you rest your hand on top of his chest.

This is what made you so excited to come home — to feel secured and happy in the arms of your boyfriend. Ever since you two moved in together, you stopped experiencing nightmares that you’ve been experiencing since you were a kid. And every single time you wake up in the morning, your heart is filled with so much love just by seeing Eddie and Chris.

“By the way,” Eddie faces you but his arms are still wrapped around you, “It’s my off this weekend. I’m planning to take you and Christopher out.”

“That sounds like a nice plan to me,” you answered with a smile on your face.

“Are you sure you’re okay to go out with us? I’m worried you might have to work this weekend, given the circumstances you’re dealing with right now,” he said.

You cupped his right cheeks and assured him that it’s totally okay, “I’m off this weekend too anyways. Plus, I’ve been wanting to go out with you and Chris. I can’t even remember the last time we went out, just the three of us.”

“How ‘bout on Monday?”

“On Monday?” your brows furrowed in confusion, “Chris has school, right?”

“Yeah, but I’m talking about just the two of us,” he said. “I mean, the three of us are already going out this weekend, so I’m wondering if we can have Monday just for the two of us. Like, after we drop Christopher off his school, we can go somewhere, then we’ll pick him up in the afternoon afterwards.”

“I mean, I can take a day off on Monday too, but are you sure you want to go out on Monday? Just the two of us?” you asked.

He grabbed your hand and smiles at you, “Why not? It’s only fair to have some quality time for both of us, right?”

In all honesty, you are excited for some quality time with Eddie.

It’s been a long time since the two of you dated, because the two of you will always think of Christopher first. After all, you promised to each other that Christopher will be part and the top priority of your relationship.

“Sure,” you replied. “So where are you taking me?”

He winked at you, “That’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

“God, you are so full of surprises!” you commented.

Your relationship with Eddie has been both a blessing and a gift. He’s been there with you, through the ups and downs of your life, through thick and thin, through turns and twists. It was like he completed the real meaning of “love” in your life. And there’s no other person you would rather take the risk of falling in love than him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he suddenly asked you, not knowing that you’ve been staring at him.

You shook your head as you fix his hair and gave him a smile.

Well, you know your boyfriend too well. He’s not gonna take that as an answer, “Come on, tell me.”

“I just realized how damn lucky I am,” you confessed and you felt his hands on top of yours, “All my life I’ve been looking for someone who could finally understand me, who could love me and teach me to love myself even better. I’m so glad I finally found you.”

“No,” he kissed the back of your hand and gave you a reassuring smile, “I found my way to you. Right from the moment I saved you, my heart already knew you weren’t just a stranger that I needed to save. I had a hard time forgetting you, so I stopped trying to forget you instead, I accepted the truth that you are someone I won’t be forgetting.”

“I know I’m hard to forget,” you joked.

Eddie chuckles, “I have no plans of forgetting you,” he extended his arms around you and pulled you towards his chest, “You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

“I have no plans of resisting,” you answered.

#Eddie Diaz #eddie diaz fic #Eddie Diaz x You #Eddie Diaz 9-1-1 #Eddie Diaz 911 #Eddie Diaz x Y/N #Eddie Diaz x Reader #911 fic #911 imagine #Eddie Diaz imagine #Eddie Diaz Fluff #Eddie Diaz x Fem!Reader

905 notes · View notes

diazsdimples · 3 months ago

Note

bucktommy + coffee shop au

Ngl I had to google what these were cause I've never read one. Anyways!

Buck works as a barista in a small coffeeshop not far from the 118. Tommy stops in before his shifts and usually orders the most boring long black (americano but stronger) that he can. He's initially a little withdrawn, not reciprocating Buck's blatantly obvious flirting, but Buck is determined to crack him.

After a few months of chatting (generally one sided but Buck doesn't care), Tommy begins to be a little more open with him. Buck learns his boss is a bit of a dickhead and he doesn't want him to know about his sexuality, so he usually keeps his head down when he's this close to work. Buck understands and dials back on the flirting, instead turning his attention to finding Tommy a different type of coffee with "more flavour and not just dark like Tommy's soul" (Buck's words)

Every time Tommy comes into the cafe, Buck makes him his coffee, but he also makes a smaller option, of whatever flavour is most popular that week. He gets creative too, mixing in different pumps of syrup, adding some spices, but also sticking to the favourites like pumpkin spice lates, peppermint mochas and the like. Tommy declares all of them far too sweet, but Buck can see from the twinkle in his eye that he's secretly enjoying it.

One day Tommy comes in with another couple of men, and Buck can instantly see a change in him. They're all wearing firefighter's uniforms and when Buck catches Tommy's eye, the guy shakes his head imperceptibly. Getting the hint, Buck acts as though he's never met Tommy before, being perfectly cordial to him and the other men. One of them is much older and has terrible manners, and Buck assumes this is the dickhead boss. In a spur of the moment decision, Buck writes his number on the bottom of Tommy's cup, with a short message saying "if you need to talk". He taps it as he hands the cup to Tommy, hoping he understands.

It isn't for a couple of days that Tommy calls. He hasn't come to the store before then and Buck is starting to get worried. Tommy asks if Buck would be willing to meet somewhere and chat for a bit. Buck readily agrees, and he and Tommy (ironically) meet for a coffee, where Buck judges the way Tommy's coffee is made and reckons he could do it better. Tommy tells Buck that after the other day, his boss was fired and it was like a huge weight was lifted off his chest. He feels more comfortable being himself around his coworkers, and says he's liked Buck for a while now and would really like it if they could go on a few proper dates together. Buck, who hasn't been at all subtle about his crush on Tommy, readily agrees and their relationship begins.

Send me a ship and an AU!

#james answers things #bucktommy #bucktommy au #bucktommy coffee shop au #911 abc #911 au #coffee shop au #evan buckley #tommy kinard #ask games #au ask game

69 notes · View notes

utilitycaster · 13 hours ago

Note

Idk how to articulate this but in regards to a lot of defense of certain elements of C3 being that they “make sense” in universe, (Ashton becoming indecisive, the party not knowing each other well because of the little passage of time, the party not having stakes in much of things,) it’s always very misguided because something can make sense in universe and still be a really bad writing decision. Especially if you’re trying to respond to an out of universe criticism with in universe logic.

Correct. I think there are two big problems with these arguments. The first, is as you said, the fact that these Doylist critiques (story poorly structure, party lacks investment) are being met with Watsonian defenses (makes sense for the party). We're saying "the party should have been given a reason for investment in the beginning."

The second is, and I've been reluctant to point this out because the bulk of hate I've gotten has been (largely false and frankly idiotic) claims of hypocrisy. But man is a lot of this hypocritical, the defense of Ashton specifically. Like, yes, Ashton is someone who's had a difficult life and frequently had very little power, so the fact that they do have power now isn't something they are used to. However, and this really is the even larger problem, just because a sentient being has a reason for feeling a certain way does not in fact mean that acting on it is excused from criticism. Ashton also learned he contained the shard of a titan only a few weeks ago; why aren't we granting the same "well, it's new, let them process" it to the party's fixation on avenging the titans? Why are we getting this from people who frequently treated Orym as "irrational" and bent on nothing but vengeance for deaths he'd carried for six years and had thought about extensively? Hey, Ludinus is acting from trauma! So is Liliana, according to a lot of these people. If acting from trauma is always valid, then criticism of any of these people is cut off. So clearly, what you do with that trauma matters!

You can feel any way about anything, but how you act matters, and time and time again, a huge number of Bells Hells and Campaign 3 fans have argued that actually it doesn't, and if you've ever had your choices curtailed your lack of agency means you are entitled to do whatever the fuck you want. It extends to themselves as well - doesn't matter if (for example) there's absolutely no indication that Gelvaan's issue with Imogen was homophobia or misogyny and in 118 episodes there hasn't been - if you feel like Imogen's experience is relatable to your real-world one where those were factors then obviously your feelings are right so who cares about like, the facts of the situation! You're new to the campaign! You can't be EXPECTED to LOOK THINGS UP and THINK.

You know what I realized, upon answering this question: I don't know if Ludinus realized that the impact of reaching out to Predathos would be the ruin of Molaesmyr; I don't think he was terribly worried about consequences but I do think it's fair to say "he might have not realized how badly this could go, and was surprised as any by the result". Just someone following a path because they were hurt and traumatized and not thinking things through. We keep talking about how Bells Hells might be remembered as Vespin Chloras, and they might be remembered as such, but Vespin was an arrogant but genuinely competent and even, arguably, well-intentioned person with a clear plan that was ultimately a gross underestimate. I think they're more likely to be just fuck-ups in the dark who could cause mass destruction because they cared far, far more about the hurt they'd received than the world around them.

#veered off topic but. relevant.#cr tag #answered #anonymous

48 notes · View notes

lyjen · 10 months ago

Text

Ask for help

Evan Buckley x Sister reader

A request by: @shauna-carsley - the request

Summary: As (y/n) and her fiancé get hit by a drunk driver, she loses the love of her life. Her family and best friend are trying to help her whenever and where they possibly can. Until she shuts them out.

Next Chapter >> | 9-1-1 masterlist

______

“I’m so glad we get to do this again. I’ve missed you.” (Y/n) spoke as she braked for the light that jumped on red. She looked at her fiancé, who was sitting in the passenger seat and was smiling at her words.

“I’ve missed you too babe. It’s been a while since we’ve had a date night.” Jay said as he put down his hand onto her upper thigh.

Jay and (y/n) have been together since high school, junior year to be exact. They’ve reached their seventh year of being together. And in these seven years, a lot has happened. From Jay deciding to join the Navy seals, to a proposal from Jay before he went on his latest mission.

Meanwhile (y/n) chose to join the fire department and become a paramedic. He serves the country, while (y/n) serves the city.

Jay had just returned from his latest mission. And since their irregular schedules, they made an arrangement to have a date night every two weeks, well.. if Jay was not on a mission.

(Y/n) was driving through the LA streets, on their way to the restaurant they had chosen. She was so excited to be with her fiancé again. It has been six months since Jay went on his mission, he was lucky that it was only for six months. Worst case scenario, he would’ve been gone for twelve months. Which actually has happened once or twice, so (Y/n) was used to being without him now and then. Of course they texted, every single day. And when he had time, they would Facetime. There were so many stories to tell..

Laughs and smiles were sounding through the car, it felt good to have him back beside her.. It felt like he had never left.

“What the fuck..” (Y/n) mumbled under her breath as she was driving, and saw a car which was driving in the opposite direction, violently swerving to the left and making a sharp turn to the right on the other lane. This guy was driving like an imbecile. As if he had gotten his driver's license free with a box of cereal.

When suddenly the car on the lane next to her bumps into the side of her car. (Y/n) tries to keep her car under control as she starts steering the wheel like a mad person. But she couldn’t keep the car steady enough.

And the car sends them crashing into a tree. Her ears were ringing, and her vision was blurry. Her head was pounding, it felt like it was about to pop off of her head. “Fuck” she mumbled as she squeezed her eyes closed, trying to get rid of the headache and the blurry vision in her eyes. She let her right hand tighten on her left shoulder, which was hurting like a bitch. That was definitely a dislocated shoulder.

“Jay?” she says as she shook his shoulder, to try and get any reaction out of him.

“Jay! Baby please wake up!” she cries, as she gives him a push, but Jay’s unconscious body doesn't seem to move. Only the push she gave him got his head flopping down to his chest.

With a trembling hand, she reached out to her phone which was on the phone holder. Her hands were shaking so much, she almost wasn’t able to unlock her phone and press the numbers to call 9-1-1.

“T-..this is firefighter (Y/n) B-..buckley, station 118.. I..- I.. c- crashed my c-..car” she stumbled through the phone. “Can you see where you are ma’am?” The woman on the phone asks. “R-..rose.. Avenue”

“Hey.. have you heard anything from (Y/n) about Jay?” Evan asks Eddie as he puts on his turnout coat and steps into his turnout pants.

Eddie was (Y/n)’s best friend and they shared everything with each other. If Eddie and (Y/n) weren’t together, they would be texting each other. It was like they were glued to one another.

“Nope, haven’t heard from her. The only thing I know is that she went picking him up at the airport this morning.” Eddie answered as he stepped into the truck and put on his headphones with Buck following close behind him.

When the truck came to a stop on scene, adrenaline was streaming through Evan’s veins. He could see the windshield was broken into a thousand, maybe a million small pieces. And the front was sandwiched for a small part, with smoke coming from the engine.

But when Evan came closer to the car, his stomach turned and filled itself with anxiety when he realised the car which crashed into the tree looked suspiciously much like his little sister's car. He bit his lower lip as he approached the car with Eddie walking next to him.

Please don’t let it be (Y/n).

Don’t let it be his baby sister, and Eddie’s best friend.

But when his eyes fell onto the license plate, Evan knew enough and stopped Eddie in his tracks. “(y/n)” Evan spoke, as he pointed at the car. Eddie frowned at the random name drop of his best friend. “What?” Eddie asks, confused as he feels Evan’s hand still pressing on his chest. “The license plate... It’s (Y/n)’s car Eddie!” Evan said as he was still trying to process what was happening right in front of his eyes.

Eddie’s eyes shot towards the license plate. But as soon as he realised Buck was right they both started sprinting towards the car. “Fuck! (Y/n)!” Eddie’s voice screamed.

Sobs came out of (y/n)’s mouth as she grabbed at her left shoulder. “Hey, hey, hey! Oh my god, (y/n)..” Evan panted as he opened the driver's door and his eyes fell on his little sister. Her body was fully covered in bruises and cuts.

Meanwhile Hen and Chimney were working on Jay, trying to get his vitals and started to get him out of the car.

“Buck” she cries out as she hears his voice talking. “Yeah I’m here sis.. Let’s get you prepared to get out of this car, okay?” He tried to remain calm. Nothing hurts more than seeing your own sibling in distress.

Eddie gets in the back of the car, he puts the neck collar around her neck and secures it. “Jay..” she cried as she could see her boyfriend carefully getting lifted out of the car on a backboard. ”Is he okay?” she asked while a colleague handed her brother a backboard. Evan looked at Eddie with a concerned look in his eyes. “Buck?” she tried to get his attention. Evan didn’t know what to say. Eddie put a hand on (y/n)’s shoulder, “Let's just focus on you right now.” and he stepped out of the backseat from the car.

When put down the backboard they were lifting onto the gurney. (y/n) pulled at Eddie’s jacket. She felt like she was a kid wanting to ask her dad something. Eddie turned around looking at his best friend lying down on the gurney. He’d rather see her standing next to the gurney, helping people.

“Put my shoulder back in.” she demanded.

“(y/n)...” Eddie sighed. She tightened her grip on his jacket, and pulled him closer to her with all of her strength she had in her right arm. A dark look washed over her face, and her lips went into a thin line. “Put it back in damn’ it!” she spoke.

Eddie looked over at Evan, who was shaking his head lightly.

He sighed once more. He wanted to tell her to wait until she was in the hospital, that doctors would pop it back in its place. But he knew trying to go against it wouldn’t help. She would have that shoulder popped back in right now, one way or another. She didn’t care how much pain she would receive.

Her breathing starts to fasten as Eddie grabs her arm with both of his hands. He slowly extended the injured arm out to the side, raising the arm gently and bending the elbow so that the palm of her hands touched the top of her head.

She squeezed her eyes at the radiating pain that shot from her shoulder through her arm. (Y/n) took a deep breath as Eddie slowly moved her hand down towards the nape of her neck.

When he moved her hand to the opposite shoulder, (y/n) could feel the shoulder pop back in its place together with a flood of pain. She screamed all of the air out of her lungs as she felt the sharp pain leading from her shoulder all the way down to her hand.

Evan closed his eyes as he heard the scream of his little sister. He could feel it entering and leaving his body. Her scream went through marrow and bone. It sounded like she was being tortured.

Eddie carefully folded her arm back down over her abdomen in a ninety degree position. He couldn’t give her a sling, not when she was lying down on the stretcher with a collar around her neck.

“Is he okay?” (y/n) asked her brother when they wheeled her into the ambulance. Evan was so focussed on his sister, that he actually forgot about him. He didn’t know the status of her boyfriend. The ambulance with Jay in it had already left while they tried to pop (y/n)’s shoulder back in. “I am sure he is fine sis..” and gave her a slight smile.

________

“Thank god” Maddie’s voice sounded through her eardrums as (y/n) opened her eyes. She rolled her head to her left, and her eyes connected with her sister standing up from a chair which was next to her bed. Maddie gave her sister's hand a soft squeeze when a tear left the corner of her eye. “Welcome back” Evan said while he laid a hand on the shoulder of his older sister, trying to give her some comfort.

“Where’s Jay?” is the first thing (Y/n) asks as she looks over at her brother and sister who are now both standing at the side of her bed.

Evan looks at Maddie, as if they could communicate by only looking at each other. A sigh left Evan’s mouth and scratched the back of his neck, which was a habit of him when he was nervous.

He couldn’t tell her. It broke his heart into a million tiny pieces only to see her like this. What would happen to her, or to himself when he would tell her the truth?

“Jay.. uhm..” he started, as he sat down on the edge of the hospital bed (y/n) was lying in. He placed his hand on her lower leg, which was covered by the blanket. “He didn’t make it.” he continued, with a trembling voice. He knew how much his sister loved her boyfriend, they were soulmates.

“W-what?” she stumbled as her eyebrows narrowed. “He died on scene (y/n).. I swear, we tried everything we could to get him back. But it was too late.” Evan tried to explain.

Her heart started pounding in her chest and the voice of her brother seemed to fade as she heard those four words. She shakes her head. “No.”

(y/n)’s breathing became more rapid by the second, it feels like she can’t take a proper breath. Tears start streaming down her cheeks. “Is this some kind of sick joke? Please.. tell me this is one of your sick jokes.” she cries as her eyes shoot at Maddie and back to Evan.

Maddie shook her head and bit her lower lip, trying to stay strong for her little sister. While Evan bit on the inside of his cheek.

(y/n) squeezed her eyes closed to try and collect herself. “It’s all my fault..”

Maddie’s free hand went up to (y/n)’s upper arm and she let it rub up and down over her arm. “No. Don’t say that.” Maddie spoke up. “I was the one driving. Of course I am the cause! I was the one who drove us into a fucking tree!” (y/n) spoke through her tears.

“No. Some drunk ass driver bumped into the side of your car and didn’t give you a choice.” Evan said as he stood up from the end of the bed.

(y/n) turned her head towards the side of the room, and just stared at it for a minute. “How did he die?” she asked softly.

When she didn’t receive an answer after a few counts, she looked at her brother. “Tell me the truth.. How did he die?” she asks again. Evan took a deep breath, there was nowhere to hide, and his little sister wanted answers. And she knew Evan had the answers to her questions.

“Internal bleedings” he answered eventually.

She didn’t answer. She wasn’t sure if she had to. (y/n) sighed, wiped the tears from underneath her eyes and put the palm of her hand against her temple. “I wish we never got in that car.” she mumbled at herself.

“(Y/n)..” her brother’s voice sounded through the room. “Don't try and talk this right Evan.” She said quietly. “You-“ Evan’s wanted to comfort her, but he gets cut off by his sister’s voice.

“Get out.” She hissed.

Evan’s eyes wandered from (y/n) to Maddie who was on his right. He knows his sister was high in her emotions at the moment. She had just lost the most important person in her life. Evan and Maddie were quiet, silently communicating with each other, not knowing whether they needed to give her space, or to stay.

“Didn’t you hear me?! Get the fuck out!” She yelled at her brother and sister, who flinched at her reaction. They didn’t say anything and left the room. As soon as (y/n) heard the door close, tears fell down. She wanted to tear down the room with her bare hands, the only problem was: her leg was in a cast. So the only thing within hand reach was the table on wheels next to the bed.

She grabbed the top of the table, and gave it a hard push. The table hit the wall as a scream sounded through the room. He was really gone. Her finance. The man she wanted to spend her life with. The love of her life, ripped out of her life just with a snap of a finger..

After one week, she got released from the hospital. Evan picked her up and drove her home, even though she screamed at him to get out, he still showed up every single day during visitor hour or when they had to bring a patient in. He understood. She was mourning. And he would let her, even if she would scream at him or fight him. He would be there for his little sister.

When (y/n) got home, every single thing was just another reminder of Jay. A reminder of the accident, of what she lost. (y/n) couldn’t even attend his funeral because she was in the hospital, another thing they took from her. She couldn’t even say goodbye.

After a few weeks, she chose to move out to another apartment, she couldn’t live in her own home. Not when everything reminded her of him. So she went apartment hunting, even while she was walking on crutches.

A moving company helped her with moving into this new apartment, they also packed for her. But in the contract it was noticed they wouldn’t unpack. By the time she moved, she didn’t have a cast anymore, and didn’t have to walk around on crutches. So (y/n) tried to unpack what she could. It was such a mess inside of her head, that she had to call reinforcements.

Evan was in the bedroom, trying to rebuild (y/n)’s bed, which the movers took apart. Meanwhile Maddie and (y/n) were in the living room, going through box after box. “This box doesn’t have a label” Maddie opens the box, a confused look spread all over (y/n)’s face. Maddie takes out a necklace which was right at the top of the box.

This was one of the boxes she didn’t want to open or see, ever again.

As soon as (y/n) realises which box Maddie was going through, she stopped and stared at the spare dog tag which was dangling through her sister's hands. She bit her lower lip and she simply continued taking out the plates out of the box. When she takes a plate out of the box, wanting to stack them on the other ones next to her on the table, the plate slips out of her hand falling to the ground into a hundred pieces.

“Fuck!” (y/n) yelled as soon as she realised what she had done. Her elbows were leaning on her thighs, as she let her face fall into her palms. She tried to remain calm as tears streamed over her cheeks, and soft sobs came out of her mouth. “Hey, it’s okay.. We can clean this up.” Maddie says as she kneeled next to her little sister, trying to comfort her by rubbing her upper arm.

“No..” she whispers, “None of this is okay!” she raised her voice. “Calm down, it was just a plate. We can replace that.” Maddie tries to calm her down. “While you’re at it, can you also replace my fiance with it?” she shot back at her sister.

“Wow, what’s going on?” Evan’s voice sounded as he walked into the room.

“And you... “ (Y/n) stood up from her chair and started walking towards him and pointing at Evan. “You told me he was fine. When you rolled me into that ambulance.” she cries, while a waterfall of tears fell over her cheeks.

“(y/n)..” Evan saw a fire in his sister's eyes which he had never seen before. “You knew he didn’t make it. And you lied to me about it.” She continued as she pushed both of her hands into his chest. Evan was confused, one second he was just putting her bed frame together and now his sister was screaming, crying and fighting him.

“That was for your own good.” Evan shot back at (y/n). “You. Should’ve told me.” She wanted to shove Evan one more time, but before she could do that Evan grabbed her wrists. “No. You know why I didn't tell you?” Evan started. “Because I can’t stand seeing you like this! Look at you. You’re a mess!” He said as he looked her over. She wriggled herself loose from his touch. He was still holding her wrists.

“How could I not be a mess?! I'm the one who killed him, Evan!” she turned her back towards him, and dragged her fingers through her hair as more tears started to roll down her face.

Evan went silent, he knew she was still mourning. It seemed like she completely forgot that the car crash was caused because of some drunk moron, and started to blame herself for trying to keep them safe. Maddie wanted to pitch in, try and calm down the conversation. But before she could say something. (Y/n) spoke up, “Get out.”

She was kicking them out again. Just like she did in the hospital room. She wasn’t facing him or Maddie. She was just looking outside of her window. “Please. Get out.”

_____

“Hey this is (y/n)…say somethi-“ Eddie groans at the voicemail which is ringing through his right eardrum. He clicks on the red button to end the conversation and tosses his phone into his duffle bag.

Why was his best friend ignoring him? He didn’t do anything wrong, did he? Every single day he checked in on (y/n), just to ask how she was doing, if he could do anything for her or maybe just listen to her ranting about how life’s unfair.

But she hasn’t replied to any of his texts for days, and she wasn’t picking up her phone either.

“Someone seems frustrated..” Evan spoke as he entered the locker room in his uniform, unbuttoning his shirt while he walked to his locker.

They were getting ready to leave. Their shift was over, Eddie could’ve been home already but instead, he’s in the locker room being concerned about his best friend.

“Your sister isn’t picking up her phone. I’ve tried calling her at least ten times today, but it goes straight to voicemail.” Eddie said, concerned while he put on his jacket. “Have you spoken to her?” Eddie asks Evan.

Evan shook his head, “I haven’t, I already asked around, no one has heard from her.” He grabs his duffle bag out of his locker and places it on the bench behind him.

When the 118 was in the neighbourhood, they went and tried to see how she was doing. But when they rang the doorbell multiple times, she didn’t answer.

“It seems like every conversation I’ve had with my sister turns into a fight. At this moment, I’m not sure if she’s really mad at me, the team or herself.” Evan shrugged off his shirt and threw it in his bag.

“I know she’s still mourning, processing her loss.. but it’s like I’m not talking to the same (y/n) anymore, you know? She needs help, but I don’t know what to do.. not when she won’t talk to me.”

Eddie nodded, it wasn’t like (y/n) to ignore her brother, or her best friend. She was always the one who couldn’t leave people on read on texts, because she would feel guilty. Eddie closes his locker “Hey, you got a spare key to her new home?”

“Yeah, why?” Evan’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Eddie. “Well.. if she won’t open the door, I don’t have to kick it in.” Eddie pressed his lips into a thin line.

(Y/n) is lying in her bed, with a hoodie on and the hood resting on her head. Her covers were over her body. She was staring into the depth of her bedroom.

With every breath she took, she could hear his voice playing in the back of her mind. The car crash scene keeps playing on loop and she doesn’t know how to turn it off.

It was like she was stuck in her own mind. As if she wasn’t alive.

“Time to get up!” Eddie says as he grabs a handful of her covers.

A groan tumbled past (y/n)’s lips, but she didn’t bother to put the covers back over her body again. She continued staring into the depth of the room.

She was wearing an oversized hoodie, and her kitchen counter was fully overloaded with empty take out boxes and dirty dishes.

Since the fight (y/n) had with Evan and Maddie, but mostly Evan. She hasn’t spoken to them in days. She didn’t continue unpacking after that, everything was just precisely as they had left. She tried to avoid the living room at all costs, if she would even make it past the bedroom door. Jay’s stuff was still in there, the box was open, just how Maddie had left it.

Eddie took place on her bed, sitting on the side. “(Y/n).. Are you okay?”

He knew it was a stupid question to ask. Of course she wasn’t okay, but he wanted to hear her voice. He wanted her to tell him, she wasn’t okay.

“We didn’t have enough time.” she said barely above a whisper.

Eddie sighed as he heard her stumble those exact words. He placed his hand on her ankle, and rubbed his thumb on her ankle. “Come on, let’s get you up.”

He stood up, grabbed both her hands and pulled her towards him. “Why are you here Eds?” she asked him.

“Well, since you decided to ignore everyone who has been messaging and calling you, I decided to take matters into my own hands.” He explained.

(Y/n) let out a cry and let herself drop into the mattress and pillow again. But Eddie pulls her up again.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” She raises her voice as she pushes Eddie's hands away from her.

“Okay fine.” Eddie starts, putting both of his hands in the air as a sign that he didn’t do anything wrong. “Push me away, like you did with the team, with your own siblings. Punch me, I don’t care. You can tell me to fuck off. But I’m staying right here, whether you want it or not.”

(Y/n) just sighs, completely annoyed with Eddie’s words. She knew he wouldn’t leave. He would stay there until he knew what was up.

“Really. Who’s it that you’re mad at right now? Are you mad at Jay for dying? Are you mad at the team because we couldn’t save him? Are you mad at Buck and Maddie because they tried to help you? Talk to me.”

Her hands were in her hair now, grabbing large pieces. It was one of her nervous habits, playing with her hair, or this.

“No it's not you that I’m mad at!” she snapped, as her hands left her scalp, she probably pulled some hair strands out.

“It’s me! Okay! It’s me who I am really mad about! I could’ve prevented all of this!” She yelled as her voice turned heavy and tears started rolling down her face against

She always cries when she’s mad, it was something she couldn’t stop.

“It was an awful, unlucky accident. Some drunk guy drove into the side of your car and you lost control over the wheel. You really think that if you steered another inch to the other side it would’ve made a difference? No. If you did that, it would’ve probably been worse.” Eddie spoke up.

(Y/n) went silent. She had nothing to say. Just for a few moments, the room which was just filled with loud voices, was now completely quiet. Eddie sat back down on the bed, while (y/n) crossed her legs.

“When you pushed us away, we let you. But we’ve given you days, weeks, even months to process this. But this is where I draw the line. I can’t handle seeing you falling into a deeper hole than you already are.” Eddie let his elbows rest on his knees.

“And don’t tell me that I don’t know how you feel. Because I do. I also lost someone I loved, and I don’t want to lose you too.” (Y/n) could tell Eddie was trying to keep himself together.

“How am I supposed to go on with my life, while a part of me died on scene with Jay?” She cries as she wipes the tears off her cheek with the sleeve of her hoodie.

Eddie pushed himself closer towards her, as he could hear her breathing starting to fasten. It almost looked like she was having a panic attack.

“Hey! Hey! I’m right here. Okay?” Eddie gently took her hand and placed it on his chest so she could feel his heartbeat.

“Breathe with me now, okay? Slow, deep breaths” (y/n) tries to copy him through her sobs.

“Good, good, you’re okay.”

“Help.. I need help Eddie.” She cries and pushes herself against Eddie, burying her face into the crook of his neck. As a wet spot was being created on his shoulder.

That was his advice. Ask for help.

#911 #911 fox #911 imagine #buck imagine #buck x reader #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #evanbuckley #imagine #911 abc #eddiediaz #eddie diaz

283 notes · View notes

kinardsevan · 6 months ago

Text

wip Thursday

tagged by the effervescent @perfectlysunny02, and in the same vein as them, don't I have a million WIPs? Yes, yes I do. But also, I mentioned this idea last week. And... well... oops? (And it's entirely their fault because of the violence they chose with THEIR teaser today.)

Alas, I give you unnecessary, momentary, legendary (working title)

Tommy wasn’t supposed to be here. That’s all he could think about; he wasn’t supposed to be here.

He’d had a full day of plans while Evan was on shift. He was supposed to stop by Harbor and pick up a package he’d had shipped there and forgot to bring home the night before. He was supposed to have lunch with Howie and Jee-Yun. He was supposed to swing by the 118 and swap keys with Evan because something was going on with the Rubicon’s engine. He was supposed to spend the afternoon figuring out if it was going to be an easy fix or not. Evan would be home before sunset.

He wasn’t supposed to be here.

Except, Evan was back at work after being down with a nasty virus for the past few days, and the only thing that had really been helping him feel better was the honey citrus tea from their favorite café. It wasn’t even a drink that his boyfriend cared for that much, but Tommy had introduced it to him the first time he’d gotten sick a few months into their relationship, and it had been a game changer for him. It wasn’t a cure by any means, but it definitely helped.

He wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Natalie?” He croaks out her name, leaning half up off of the tile floor, hand pressed into his abdomen next to his hip. He can’t see her behind the glass casing that contains the pastries, and she hasn’t said anything in a few minutes. The higher he tries to sit himself up, the more pain shoots down his side. “Nat!?”

It takes more than a few seconds, but eventually—too long—he hears the sound of what he assumes is broken glass shifting on the floor. A small whimper.

“T-Tommy?”

“Nat?” He calls back, turning his head towards the back of the counter again. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

She doesn’t respond, but then he sees the familiar flurry of jello-red hair appear from behind the pastry case, and then she’s climbing over the counter, her combat boots crunching glass on the floor as she moves towards him. Tommy looks up at her, his paramedic skills immediately kicking in as he takes her in.

She’s got a cut on her forehead and her hands are bleeding—he assumes from all the broken glass. There’s a slash across her forearm where the knife got her, bleeding pretty decently. His eyes trail down to the side of her apron, the stain spreading across it and her jeans. She’s bleeding from somewhere on her leg. His gaze drifts to the counter and the streak of blood coming across it where she crawled over.

“N-Nat, we gotta call the cops,” he tells her warily.

“What if he comes back,” she asks anxiously, her voice shaking as tears come down her face. She sinks to the ground next to him, ignorant of the glass on the ground around him.

Tommy shakes his head at her, digging into his pocket with blood-coated fingers, fumbling his phone when his fingers come into contact with it. He pulls it out as he looks back up at her.

“You gave him everything, right,” he asks her. “Didn’t fight?”

“No,” she sobs, leaning over him. “God, Tommy, I’m so sorry.”

He shakes his head at her, reaching for one of the napkin holders knocked onto the floor nearby.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he tells her. He keeps flashing hot and cold, and he can feel himself getting clammy. He tries to focus his attention on his phone, dialing the number into it.

“Tommy, you’re bleeding,” she cries.

“I’m fi-…fine,” he stammers, slumping back against the floor. “We’re fine.”

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“5943 Ventura Boulevard,” he rattles off. “This is off-duty Rescue 1701 out of Harbor Station, I need to be transferred to Maddie Buckley.”

“Just a moment sir.” The line clicks off for all of ten seconds, and then clicks back on.

“9-1-1, this is Maddie Buckley speaking,” her voice comes back. There’s just the slightest hitch of anxiety in her voice, like she knows being routed to personally isn’t normal.

“Maddie,” he rasps, squeezing his eyes shut tightly, trying to get the tears out of them.

“Tommy,” she replies, her voice suddenly flooded with panic. “What’s going on? Is Evan- a-are you- is Howie-…”

“They’re fine,” he chokes out. “B-but, I need RA and police. S-Stabbing at the café.”

His head drops back against the floor, and he can feel his vision getting fuzzy. He looks over at Natalie. She looks even more panicked than she did before. His gaze drifts down to where his other hand is. Blood is completely coated over his fingers.

“N-Nat, I need you to use your apron to apply pressure,” he rasps.

“Stabbing?! Tommy where are you,” Maddie cries from the other end of the line. Tommy rattles the address off to her again.

“D-dont send Evan,” he rasps at her. “God, he can’t find me. You hear me, Maddie? Don’t send him. Do not let him see me like this.”

She hiccups a cry on the other end of the line, and there are hushed voices clearly trying to get her off the line, but she speaks clearly enough that Tommy hears when she growls ‘no’ back at whoever is trying to get her to hand the call off.

“You know I love him, right,” he continues. Natalie presses her apron into his side then and he can’t help the cry that falls out of his mouth. “F-fuck. M-Maddie?”

“I know,” she cries. “Stay with me, Tommy. Don’t hang up on me.”

He nods letting his head rest back against the floor.

“No, come on, Tommy,” Natalie cries, pressing harder into his wounds. “Come on. Stay awake.”

“Trying,” he murmurs, looking around the floor. “I-I, I want to marry him, you know,” he tells Maddie. “He just walked into my life like- like he was always supposed to be here. And I thought I’d lost out on my chance by taking too long to figure my shit out. Fuck, Nat. Yeah, that’s good, keep pushing down.”

“He talks about you being it for him all the time,” Maddie replies. He can tell she’s crying. “Keeps telling me that he thinks you’ll be a great dad.”

Tommy lets out a small laugh and then groans at the wave of pain that shoots across his abdomen and stomach.

“I wasn’t sure, before him,” he replies, letting his eyes slip shut. The phone starts to sag in his hand, but the cry of Natalie’s voice and sudden, sharp pressure on his side has his eyes shooting open again. “Fuck, okay. Okay.” He swallows hard, taking a breath. “B-but if anyone could convince me that we could do it together, it’s him.”

Maddie hiccups another sob. “I’ve watched him lose one relationship after another, think what he’s holding onto is the right one while knowing it isn’t. But I never said anything because I was just his sister, you know? And I know you said he walked into your life, but you spun into his with a literal hurricane and I’ve never seen him… I don’t even know, Tommy. This settled? Happy? Secure?”

“H-he deserves it,” Tommy rasps, his head lolling back and eyes getting heavier.

“Damn it, Tommy, come on,” Natalie cries. “Stay awake, please.”

“s’getting harder,” Tommy slurs. “Maddie, I love him. So much more than I’ve ever loved anyone else. Want him more, dream about him more, choose him more. My life begins and ends at Evan Buckley.” The tears swimming in his eyes finally slip down the side of his face, his vision tight now, and extremely hazy.

“Tommy, stay with me,” Maddie cries. Her voice seems farther away now. “The ambulance is so close. Please?”

“Tell him I love him more than anything else,” he replies, coughing out another groan. “That I choose him. Every day, all the time. I pick him.” He pauses for a moment, his eyes too heavy to open back up. “I love you, Evan.”

#bucktommy #wip thursday #teaser tidbit #this is not my fault #i didn't choose violence first #wip games #fic #unposted

86 notes · View notes

cjlouwho · 6 months ago

Text

Carry the Burden

read on ao3 or below. 7.6k, tags: emotional hurt/comfort, mentions of past abuse, emotional/psychological abuse, depression, mentions of suicide, mentions of vomiting, love, care, no major character death

Summary:

With Buck, Tommy was an open book... mostly. There was one particular, very important chapter that he kept closed. He didn't bring up his childhood. Didn't mention his parents much. That was a part of his life no one but he and his therapist needed to know about. But a surprise visit from his father changes all that, and sends Tommy spiraling down a path he'd fought so hard to shun away.

They were on the couch, Buck laid out with his head on the arm rest and legs sprawled over Tommy's lap. Tommy had his own legs crossed and stretched out on the coffee table. Buck barely registered Tommy's phone buzzing as he reached and pulled it out of his pocket.

“Hm. Dad's in town.”

Tommy had been so nonchalant with his words that Buck was pretty sure he heard him wrong.

“What?” He asked as Tommy laid the phone beside him.

“My dad's here, apparently.” He didn't even look away from the TV as he spoke, keeping his focus on the basketball game.

They'd been sitting there for nearly half an hour now, Tommy watching the game while Buck did a deep dive on the history of mummification. It wasn't his first time researching the subject, but it was always good to get a refresher.

“Are you... are you going to see him?” Buck asked.

Tommy was an open book with Buck, mostly. It helped that Buck was always more than willing to share stories from his own past.

Tommy would talk about how he was a chubby kid growing up and got made fun of a lot for it. How he took up wrestling in high school. How he joined the military at seventeen, mostly to show his classmates just how strong he was. He'd go into detail about the missions he completed in the army, and the way it impacted his life to this day. He didn't shy away from who he was when he first became a firefighter. How he followed along with Gerrard because it was the easy thing to do. He made no excuses for himself.

Tommy talked about part of him wanting to stay at the 118 once Bobby came, but his past loomed over him like a dark cloud and, even though Hen and Chimney forgave him long ago, every time he walked into the station he was reminded of who he was and not who he wanted to be.

He talked about his first few weeks in therapy. How he went through three therapists before he found one he liked. How hard it was to come to terms with so many aspects of his life.

He still went to therapy, once a week, always on a Tuesday. That was one of his regular days off, and Buck knew there would always be a couple hours of radio silence from him then.

There was one aspect of his life that Tommy never really discussed in detail.

His parents.

It wasn't that he never mentioned them. Buck knew that his dad was not a good man, and that his mom died when he was young, but that's all Tommy had ever really said.

The scoff Tommy let out at Buck's question told him all he needed to know. “No, I- I will not be seeing him.”

Buck pushed himself up into a sitting position, bending his knees close to his chest. “How'd you find out he was in town?”

Tommy didn't have siblings. Didn't really have any extended family. None he was in regular contact with anyway.

“He texted me,” Tommy answered simply.

“I didn't even know he had your number.”

“Oh, he has it,” Tommy managed to look over at Buck and give him a grin that didn't quite reach the eyes, “he just rarely uses it.”

“But he is now?”

“Apparently.” Tommy turned back to the game, but Buck reached over and squeezed his forearm, regaining his attention.

“Hey, Tommy, use your words. I've never heard you mention your dad calling or texting you, but he suddenly is now? Is there a reason?”

Tommy sighed. He reached for his phone, unlocking it before handing it over to Buck. “That's all it says. He's not a man of many words,” he said, before mumbling out, “or many good words, at least.”

Buck read over the text:

In town. Let's talk. Stuff to figure out.

He handed Tommy his phone. “Are you gonna answer him, at least?”

Tommy shook his head. “No, I am not.”

“Aren't you a little curious...”

Buck's voice trailed off as Tommy reached for Buck's hand, gently tugging Buck towards him. Buck maneuvered himself until he was curled into Tommy's side, his head resting just below Tommy's shoulder. Tommy wrapped his arm around Buck, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I appreciate the concern,” he spoke quietly, “but this,” he added, lifting his phone, “is not happening.”

Buck understood issues with parents. He'd told that to Tommy so many times before. He'd gone over his life story time and time again, and Tommy always listened with the utmost care and consideration. He always seemed so happy for Buck too. Happy that he was able to, for the most part, work things out with his parents. They may not be on the best terms, and they'd probably never be what others considered a “close” family, but they were better. And that was good enough.

Still, Buck could tell that Tommy was done with the conversation, so he let it go.

“How much longer until the game is over?” he asked, changing the topic for Tommy's sake.

Tommy let out a laugh, shaking Buck slightly. “About ten minutes.”

Buck closed his eyes, settling further into Tommy's side, “Wake me up when it's over.”

*****

They'd been together six months now, had exchanged keys a couple months in, but Buck still felt a thrill every time he walked into Tommy's place knowing Tommy wouldn't actually be there yet.

Something about it just felt so domestic. And Buck loved that feeling.

They'd already discussed moving in together. If they both had a night off, they were never apart, instead switching between each place depending on what errands they had planned for the next day.

Buck had another two months to go on his lease, so they decided to hold out on actually moving in together until then. There was no reason to deny him getting his security deposit back, or being forced to pay rent for an apartment he was no longer living in.

Still, Buck preferred Tommy's house. It was an older place, and not very big, but it had a nice garage for working out and a good kitchen that Buck enjoyed cooking in.

Which was why he came to Tommy's today. Tommy was working, but he'd be off by six, and Buck wanted to have a good dinner ready for him to come home to. Bobby had given him a recipe for something called Marry Me Chicken, and well, who was Buck kidding, that was the ultimate goal.

They would be the first to admit they were a bit unconventional. Besides swapping keys two months into their relationship, they had discussed whether or not children were in their future on date number four.

Tommy never really let go of the fact Buck invited him to his sister's wedding after one failed date.

They had sex on Buck's balcony before they had it in his bed.

They said I love you for the first time in month three, when Buck was deathly ill with a stomach bug and somehow got vomit in his hair. Tommy got him in the shower, letting Buck rest all of his body weight on him as he cleaned him up. Wrapped in Tommy's arms, head resting on his chest, eyes closed as water and soap flowed down his body, and the taste of throw up still on his tongue no matter how many times he brushed and used mouthwash, he uttered out an “I love you” to Tommy. He didn't even care if Tommy said it back, but Tommy did. He pressed a kiss to Buck's temple, dragging a wash cloth down his back, and said, “I love you too, Evan. So much.” That wasn't just the day Buck knew he loved Tommy, it was the day he knew he wanted to marry Tommy.

And, no, the chicken wasn't going to be a proposal. That wouldn't be happening until after they had officially lived together for a while- which had been a discussion during date number six.

But the name of the recipe, the words marry me, made Buck feel soft in a way that almost felt ridiculous, especially since it was literally just a recipe for chicken breast.

Buck had just placed the chicken in the oven when there was a knock on the door.

He rolled his eyes. Tommy often came home with his hands full, opting to carry most of his items separately instead of placing them in his duffel.

“One of these days I'm not gonna answer,” Buck called out as he neared the door, “just to teach you a le- Oh.”

The words died out on his tongue when he was met at the door by an older man that was very much not Tommy.

This man had thirty or so years on Buck, and was a few inches taller too. He was broad- really broad. Like Tommy, but on steroids.

“Uh, sorry, I- I thought you were someone else,” Buck began after he collected himself. “Can I help you?”

“Is this Thomas Kinard's place?” The man's voice was gruff. The kind of voice you get after smoking a pack a day for years on end.

“It is.”

“You're not him.”

“I'm not.”

“Where is he?”

Well, this conversation was going swimmingly!

“I- I'm sorry, who... are you?”

“Right,” the man held out his hand, although the scowl on his face remained. “Charles Kinard.”

Buck couldn't hide the surprise on his face after hearing the name. He shook Charles' hand, which held on a bit too tightly. “Oh! Oh, you're Tommy's dad.”

“'S'what it says on the birth certificate.”

Once Charles let go, Buck moved out of the way, allowing him to come inside. “Come in. Sorry, I was, um, not expecting anyone. I'm Evan Buckley, um, Buck, by the way. Sorry.”

“You apologize a lot,” Charles noted as he walked farther into the house, eyes drifting around the place.

“Yeah, I- I know. Sor- uh, Tommy should be home pretty soon. He's been working. Was he... Did he know you were coming?”

He cringed at the question, knowing it was an odd thing to ask. He was still trying to catch up with what was going on. Tommy hadn't mentioned his father since three days ago, when he got the text he never answered. Maybe he had ended up answering and just never said anything to Buck, but that wasn't like Tommy.

“Not really,” Charles answered, finally turning to face Buck. “Who are you?” he asked, eying Buck up and down. Buck wasn't really sure if Charles was looking at him, or his apron, which he now remembered said, 'I like my meat rubbed, jerked, and pulled!'

Buck untied the apron and unceremoniously pulled it off of him, crumpling it up in his hand. He realized in that moment that he had no idea what Tommy's dad actually knew, or didn't know, about him. “I'm his friend,” he settled on, “from work.”

“You work together?”

Buck nodded. “Sort of. Different stations, but, yeah, um, yes we're both firefighters.”

“Mm.”

“Uh, why don't you have a seat,” Buck suggested, motioning toward the living room as he stepped closer to Charles. “Tommy won't be too much longer now.”

Charles moseyed into the living room, glancing around at the décor before taking a seat on the couch. “You come over and cook for your friend while he works?” Charles asked as Buck returned to the kitchen.

He wanted to text Tommy, or call him, and let him know what was happening, but he knew he couldn't. He couldn't exactly talk about his dad while he was right in front of him, and Tommy wouldn't check a text when he was driving.

“I, uh, I like to cook,” Buck started, trying to think of an explanation that didn't sound too ridiculous. “And he's got a good kitchen, so I come over, um, sometimes to cook. I- I pay with food.” God, he was an idiot.

Another grunt like sound came from Charles, and Buck was about ninety percent sure he didn't buy it.

Buck wasn't sure how to communicate with the man. He was usually pretty good about stuff like this. He could make up random things to talk about with anyone, whether they wanted to hear it or not. But this was his boyfriend's father who didn't know for sure that Buck was Tommy's boyfriend, and all the questions that were coming to Buck's mind were only questions a significant other would ask their partner's parents.

“So, Mr. Kinard,” Buck began, beginning to slice a cucumber. He wasn't even planning on using a cucumber for anything tonight, but he needed something to do.

“Charles.”

“Charles, um, what... are you visiting LA?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, good. That's... that's good. I'm sure Tommy will be happy to see you.”

Yet another grunt. This one almost sounded like a snort. Buck leaned over slightly to get a look at the man, who was staring straight ahead, eyes fixed on the turned off TV in front of him.

“You should stay for dinner,” Buck suggested, hating himself as the words left his mouth. “There's gonna plenty.” That was true. He always made enough for leftovers.

“Okay.”

This truly was a man of few words.

Buck was just about to tell him he could turn on the TV and watch something when he heard the sound of keys jiggling in the doorknob.

The door opened before Buck could get to it.

“Oh my God, Evan, what smells so good? I could smell it from outside,” Tommy said, walking inside. Buck met him at the entryway.

“Just chicken. Um, Tommy-”

Tommy dropped his duffel at the door, “I even put my stuff in it this time,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows as he grabbed at Buck's shirt to pull him in for a kiss. Usually, Buck would've been thrilled. Told him it was about damn time and asked if he could take a picture to remember this moment forever.

Instead, he quickly pulled away from the kiss and unwrapped himself from Tommy's touch.

“We have a visitor, Tommy,” Buck said when he was met with a confused face. “You do, I mean.”

“I was wondering who's car was out front,” Tommy replied. “Figured the neighbors were having another party or something.”

“No, um, it's...” Buck's voice trailed off. He could tell Charles was somewhere behind him now. Could see that Tommy's eyes trailed from looking at him to looking at his father. Whatever was left of the smile on his face disappeared, his skin paling.

Part of Buck wished he could disappear. Just melt into the floor and turn into a puddle of goo.

The other part of him had the urge to stand between the two men forever, making sure Tommy was protected from whatever pain his father had obviously caused him.

Buck had never seen the look on Tommy's face before. It looked like fear and sadness, mixed with rage.

“What are you doing here?” Tommy asked as Buck stepped to the side to get out of the way.

“Well, hello to you too, TJ.”

TJ? That was new.

“Don't call me that. What are you doing here? How'd you find my house?”

The problem with where Buck was standing, was that he couldn't move toward the kitchen without walking directly in front of the two men, and he wasn't sure this was a good moment to move.

“I'm not an idiot. You own the place, I looked it up. I texted you when I got to town.”

“I know you did.” Tommy shrugged off his jacket, dropping it on top of his duffel bag. “Thought you'd get the hint when I didn't answer.”

“You know how I am with subtleties.”

“Not answering a single one of your texts for three years is not exactly subtle, Dad.”

Buck could not do this any longer. He could feel Charles' eyes on him and, if he was going to be Tommy's friend, he couldn't exactly go into protective-boyfriend mode.

“I'm gonna,” he pointed toward the kitchen, “just go over there.”

Tommy waited for Buck to be out of the room before continuing. “You need to go,” he said, staring his father dead in the eyes.

“Hm. Thought you wanted to know what I was doing here?”

“Decided I don't care.”

Charles smiled. It didn't reach his eyes the way Tommy's did. There were no laughter lines, no scrunched up nose. Just a meaningless smile. “You're lookin' good, TJ. Lower BMI than the last time I saw you. That's good.”

Buck wasn't sure if he was hearing things correctly. Who says that to their kid after not seeing them for years?

“And you're looking me in the eyes. You always struggled with that before.”

“It's easier now that I'm too big for you to hit.”

Buck sucked in a breath. It was impossible to not overhear the conversation. With the open floor plan, Buck could still see Charles, although he didn't have a view of Tommy.

Charles laughed. A deep, guttural laugh that made Buck feel uneasy. “You're never too big for that, T-”

“You need to go. Now.”

“Hang on a minute,” Charles said, waving Tommy off. “I gotta talk to you about my will.”

“I don't give a damn about your will.”

“I've got fifty acres of land in Colorado, TJ. Been in the family for generations.”

“You've got a double wide trailer on that dump of land and couldn't get rid of it if you tried. I don't want it.”

Buck could hear shuffling, so he quickly picked up a knife to make it look like he'd been chopping away at that same cucumber from earlier.

Tommy entered the kitchen, washing his hands at the sink before turning to Buck. “Need help with anything, Ev?”

“N- No, um, no, I'm good.”

“I'm not getting any younger, TJ.”

Tommy placed a hand on Buck's lower back. It was as though it was an anchor for him. Something to keep him steady.

He glared over at his dad. “You're still here?”

“Don't be dumb, Thomas. I'm not leaving until we talk about this. Besides, your friend here invited me for dinner.”

The hand on Buck's back stiffened, before being removed completely. He turned his head toward Buck. “You did?”

“I- I thought you two might, um, might want to catch up.”

He hoped Tommy could read between the lines. Hoped he understood what Buck was really trying to say.

“I felt like I had no other choice. This was really awkward, even for me, and I panicked. Please, don't hate me.”

“That's kind of you, Evan,” Tommy replied, his attention returning to his father, “but we don't have anything to catch up on.”

“Hey! Don't stand there acting like I'm the problem,” Charles said, crossing the room in three steps. Buck could feel Tommy stiffen beside him. “You're the one who left, not me! I've been the one contacting you. You can act like I'm a terrible father all you want, but I'm the one that helped you be something!”

“You didn't help me! I ran from you! I was seventeen years old, Dad, joining the army to get away from you!”

Buck wanted to say something. Wanted to kick the man out of the house, or at least hold up his bowl of finely chopped cucumber and ask if anyone wanted a bite.

But, this wasn't his house. Not yet, anyway. And, somehow, he felt responsible for this whole debacle. He couldn't stop thinking about how he should have done things differently. He shouldn't have let Charles in the house. Shouldn't have attempted to make conversation. Shouldn't have invited him to stay for dinner. Should have figured out a way to call and warn Tommy. Should have texted him anyway; maybe he would have read it before getting out of his truck.

“You know, I really should have known better,” Charles said, shaking his head. “Should have known you wouldn't want to help your old man out.”

“Help you out?” Tommy asked, exasperated. “I have done nothing but help you out for years! I bailed you out of jail three times. I paid your gambling debts for you. I took a second mortgage out on my home so I could pay your back taxes! If I didn't stop answering your messages, I'd be living on the streets! And now you want to come talk about a will? On property that you've nearly foreclosed on twice? I'm surprised you even have that place any-” he stopped mid sentence. Buck glanced over at him, worried something had happened.

“You're about to lose the property, aren't you?” Tommy asked. That made much more sense.

“Now, just listen-”

“You're really here to have me buy the property, and give you the money, so you can go blow it on booze and steroids and hookers and whatever else you feel like.”

“This is what family does, TJ,” Charles said, pointing at Tommy as he eyed him down. “They help each other when they're in need.”

“When have you ever helped me, Dad?” Tommy asked. His voice was different now. Resigned, almost. “Never.”

“I don't need to stand here and listen to these lies in front of your friend!”

Tommy scoffed. “I think you know he's more than a friend.”

“Yeah, I do know. He's been bumbling like an idiot since I got here.”

Buck could feel his face turning red. He wasn't embarrassed by Charles' words, more surprised by the man's lack of filter.

“Get out.” Tommy demanded. “Now!”

Charles moved even closer, a tight fist placed on the countertop of the island. “You owe me!” he spit out through gritted teeth. “The embarrassment you have caused me. Being the way you are, having to answer questions from my friends! I have been trying to knock sense into you for years!”

“Maybe I was too busy lying to doctors in the hospital for the sense to really get knocked in there!”

“Pathetic,” Charles said, before mumbling out, “like your mother.”

“Get out.” It was Buck's voice this time. It no longer mattered to him that this wasn't his home. He didn't care if he was overstepping. Tommy could be mad if he wanted.

For as little as Buck knew about Tommy's family, he did see the way Tommy's eyes got red and glassy when he mentioned his mom. How he'd clear his throat and say she was a good woman, a great mom, gone too soon. From what he'd pieced together on his own, it was a suicide.

Tommy had never said as much, but he came to Buck's after a particularly bad shift. Buck hadn't even been expecting him. He showed up at the door, eyes blank, mind somewhere far away. He'd even forgotten he had a key of his own.

He'd curled into Buck the second the door opened, arms tight around Buck's waist and head turned into the crook of his neck.

Buck squeezed him back just as tight. Asked if he was okay, accepted the silence in return. They stayed there for a while, until Buck was finally able to convince Tommy to move to the couch.

Tommy snuggled up to Buck's side the second they sat down. He laid his head on Buck's chest, one arm curled between them and the other resting over Buck's stomach. They'd rested like this before, but this was the first time Buck ever thought that Tommy looked small. Not physically, obviously, but the way he acted was like a child in desperate need of comfort.

So that's what Buck did.

It was the longest thirty minutes of silence before Tommy spoke. “I worked the ground today,” he explained through a shaky voice, making no effort to move off of Buck. “We were short-staffed. There was a call. A kid found... he found his mom. She was in the bathtub. She was already,” he swallowed down a sob, “she was gone already. He was freaking out. I waited un- until his dad got there to be with him.”

“That's terrible, Tommy,” Buck said, running a soothing hand up and down Tommy's bicep.

“It just... it reminded me-” he cut himself off, took a deep breath, “I like being in the air.”

Buck wasn't dumb. He could put together a puzzle that was missing half its pieces. He knew better than to press the issue. Knew what Tommy needed right now was simply to be held.

So he held him.

He held him until Tommy's breaths evened out and the sun had long set.

And now, with Charles in front of him, it was all Buck could think about. That moment replaying in his mind as Tommy's father spewed venom from across the counter.

“If you're not out of here in ten seconds, I'll call the police for trespassing, and you seem like the type who has warrants waiting for them.”

Charles opened his mouth to speak, but Buck grabbed for the phone in his pocket.

The older man held his hands up in surrender and, without another word, turned and left the house.

There were a few beats of silence before Buck spoke. “Tommy, I-”

“I need to go for a walk.” Tommy's voice was stoic.

Buck didn't like that. He followed behind Tommy as he headed for the door. “Do you want me to come with you?” he asked.

Tommy picked up his jacket and slipped it on. “No, I'm fine.”

“Tommy, I don't-”

Tommy stopped in the open doorway, hand still on the knob but halfway out the door already. “Evan, I'm fine,” he repeated. His voice wavered this time. Only slightly, but enough for Buck to catch it. “I just need a minute.”

Buck nodded, pursing his lips together. “Yeah, okay.”

He stood there long after the door had closed.

*****

A cool breeze filled the air as Tommy walked down his street. He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets as a chill came over him.

He was tense. He kept trying to make sense of the thoughts in his head, but everything felt all jumbled.

He'd been doing so well. Therapy had helped him work through so many of the issues he had with his dad. Had helped him cut off contact. He stopped enabling the man and set himself free of him.

The only reason he didn't block his dad's number was because he knew, one day, a police officer or one of his dad's deadbeat friends would be calling to say he was dead. Even if he cared nothing for the man, he'd still like to know when it was all over.

There were times Tommy would sit and think about the things he'd say if he ever came face to face with his dad again. He had a list. All the ways his dad had screwed him over throughout his entire life.

And then the one time he actually did come face to face with the man after all these years, he didn't say a single damn thing he'd written down.

He knew he'd never get the chance again.

Knew his dad wouldn't really care anyway. He never cared about the pain he caused, even when Tommy was a little kid.

His jaw tensed. He could feel the sting of tears in his eyes, but he didn't let them fall. He didn't want to cry anyway. He wanted to be mad.

That's what his dad always got angry at him for. Tommy would get upset, and he'd cry. His dad would yell, and he'd cry. His dad would hit him, he'd cry. His dad would hit him harder because he was crying, he'd cry even more.

Kids at school would make fun of his weight.

His dad would make him run laps until he'd puke.

He'd avoid eye contact to try and not be noticed.

He'd cry.

Not now though. Now he could hold it in. He finally learned that as a teenager. Perfected it over time. His therapist helped him with that too; taught him not to hold in his emotions. For the most part, he didn't anymore, he'd let himself feel whatever he was feeling. Right now he needed to control something, and this was the something he could control.

So he didn't cry.

But he let himself be mad.

Because he was so damn mad.

Mad at himself.

Mad at his dad.

Mad at him showing up to his house, invading his safe space, a space that had been free and clear of the trauma of his youth.

Now, every time he'd step in that house he'd see his dad there.

He hated that.

As much as he hated to admit it, a part of him was mad at Buck too.

No, mad wasn't the right word.

Envious, maybe.

Every time Buck talked about his parents, a twinge of envy sparked inside of Tommy. He knew it was stupid. He didn't even particularly like Buck's parents. He definitely didn't like who they used to be, how they used to treat their son.

But, to their credit, they had been trying now.

And that's where the envy came in.

Because Buck's parents went to therapy with him. They started showing up, being there for their kids, through good and bad, even when they weren't comfortable.

And yeah, they were a little late, and not all wounds ever completely heal. There were still problems, and they were always a bit on edge when Tommy was around, but they were there.

They still put on a smile for Buck, however forced, and corrected themselves when they called him Evan.

They'd never hit their kids. Sure, they were a little too busy ignoring them, but Maddie and Buck never had to be afraid of their parents.

“We were invisible,” Buck had told him once.

Tommy didn't say it, he'd never speak the words out loud, because he knew how much being invisible hurt Buck. But, the first thing Tommy thought when he heard that was I wish I could've been invisible too.

Even thinking something like that made Tommy feel like a bad person. Actually, he often felt like a bad person. A terrible, terrible person who was so undeserving of any forgiveness, happiness, and love. He'd think about who he became in the military. Closed off, angry, ruthless at times. He'd killed people. He didn't think about it. Just dropped the bomb on whatever target he'd been told to hit. They were just targets. Living, breathing targets. He'd hear reports of kids getting hit with missiles, innocent casualties who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. But that was war, and you didn't get emotional with war. Until you got home and you had to reason with who you'd become.

Then he'd think of who he became when he got hired as a firefighter. More closed off, angrier, trying to make up for what he'd done by saving lives instead of taking them. But, no matter how many saves he got, it didn't make up for the kills. And you could get close to people, but you'd probably lose them just like you did in the military, so why have a friend if they're just gonna die anyway?

Plus, there was Gerrard. Gerrard, who was so much like his dad in so many ways. A crass bastard who didn't care who he offended or how he mistreated people. Tears were a weakness, emotions were a weakness, and Tommy was tired of people thinking he was weak. So, he made sure he wasn't.

The difference between his dad and Gerrard was that, if you fit in with Gerrard, he wouldn't bother you as much.

His dad bothered him regardless.

Tommy was not a good person when he had Gerrard as a boss. At first, he blamed Gerrard. Healing came when he took responsibility for himself.

Even with the healing; with leaving the 118 and starting over. With getting therapy and changing his mindset and forgiving himself, there were times when he felt like the biggest fraud in the world. Because he may have forgiven himself, but he didn't deserve the forgiveness of the people around him.

He didn't deserve the friendship of Howie or Hen. He didn't deserve Eddie, who was always excited to hang out. He didn't deserve weekly dinners with Bobby and Athena, who would ask him about his week and listen to his stories. He didn't deserve Maddie, who was ready and waiting to watch The Bachelor each week with wine and a cheeseboard.

He definitely didn't deserve Evan.

Evan.

Who was always there, no matter what. Wore his heart on his sleeve, would do anything for anyone, Evan.

Evan, who was a soft kiss after a hard day. Who's body fit with Tommy's like two puzzle pieces that were finally placed together. Stubborn, smart, bold, unafraid, open, honest, loving, kind, adorable, Evan.

He'd talked to his therapist about it one day. Things were going too well, his life felt too good, and that nagging voice drudged its way up from the back of his mind to repeat over and over you don't deserve it, you don't deserve it, you don't deserve it.

Then his therapist asked him a simple question. “When you hear the voice, is it your voice, or is it your father?”

After thinking about it for a while, Tommy answered, “A morphing of the two. Starts as him, ends as me.”

A nod. “Let's dissect that.”

They did.

It sucked.

But it helped too. It didn't make the feeling go away, but it did help him recognize that what he was feeling didn't just stem from the choices he made as an adult, it started all the way back when he was a child. When he was told, time and time again, how he didn't deserve good things.

Oftentimes, Tommy felt like his mind was a cruel joke that liked to play, well, mind games on him. As soon as he'd push through his feelings of being undeserving, his brain would laugh and tell him he was pitying himself. Making himself the victim when, in the majority of the things he did as an adult, he was in fact not the victim. This would, in turn, make him feel undeserving of feeling undeserving.

“My mind is a very screwy place,” he said on a particularly grouchy day at therapy. “Truly can't believe they let me fly an aircraft.”

“It sounds kind of like you're torturing yourself for not being perfect.”

“I feel like the more I try to learn and grow from my past, to- to move on from it, it throws itself right back up in my face. I try. I really, really try to let it go, but I can't.”

“I know it's a sensitive topic for you, Tommy, but-”

“No.” Tommy knew where this was going. “No, it's not that.”

A sigh. “Tommy, how old are you?”

He was not in the mood for this today. “Forty-one.”

“And how old was your mother when she passed?”

“Forty-two.”

“I know you've mentioned before how she held onto her guilt. She felt hopeless. Worthless. Let it eat away at her. Your words.”

“I'm not like that. I'm not... I wouldn't do that. I don't feel that way.”

“I'm not saying that you do. I'm saying, sometimes, the reason we feel certain ways stems from our parents, grandparents, etcetera.”

Tommy uncrossed his legs, picked at a string hanging from his jeans. “Can we change the subject? Evan and I have a date tonight and I don't wanna be bitchy when I pick him up.”

*****

Tommy continued down the sidewalk, the only light from the street lamps above him. Occasionally, he'd hear a dog bark or a bird chirp but it was mostly quiet.

He was a couple miles from home now. He knew he should be heading back. His anger had mostly died down to something else by now. Something he couldn't really explain.

Emptiness, maybe?

Yet another word he'd used to describe his mother before.

But, he wasn't like her. He could always get out of bed. He didn't have problems brushing his teeth. He didn't let himself go. He never lost his appetite. He never felt like downing an entire bottle of pills on a regular Sunday afternoon. Would never think of risking his future child walking in the room, excited to tell him about winning the little league game, and instead find him on the floor, long gone.

“I'm the complete opposite of her,” Tommy said at his next session, still annoyed from the previous week. “I don't call out of work, I take extra shifts, I always have something planned when I'm off. I'm in a stable relationship which, yeah, I've only been in for five months, but it's been the best five months of my life. I manage everything fine. Sometimes my mind is just a dick to me.”

“Depression is different for everyone,” his apparently all knowing therapist replied. “Some people have all the symptoms, some have a few, none are exactly alike. There's levels to it, different kinds.”

Tommy slumped back on the couch, sighing as he stared out the window. “Well, that really sucks.”

He tried to be open with Evan. He'd told him so much about his life, about who he was. Evan knew everything about Tommy's time in the military. He knew what Tommy was like when he worked under Gerrard. He knew all the ways Tommy had struggled with himself and his sexuality. He knew all the bad parts, and he loved him anyway.

“I've made so many versions of myself, Tommy,” Buck told him one day, “I think I lost count at 5.0. They're all still me though. I wouldn't be here if I was never there, and I really, really like being here. Sometimes the crappy stuff makes you better in the end.”

Maybe it wasn't as well spoken as something his therapist would have said, but Tommy understood. No matter what, Evan wasn't going anywhere. He wasn't scared off by Tommy. Didn't judge him. He loved him. They loved each other.

Still, as Tommy walked the desolate street, he couldn't help the new voice inside his head. This one was his alone. It was telling him that, as open as he'd been, he'd still closed off a huge part of his life to Evan. It wasn't even necessarily intentional, it was just easier. Easier to avoid the topic altogether. However, it wasn't exactly fair.

He could hear his therapist in his mind, asking him the questions. “Why do you think you've closed that part of yourself off to Buck?”

He'd answer, “I don't exactly like revisiting the subject.”

“Do you not trust him with that part of your life?”

“Of course I do! I trust him with every part of my life.”

“Then why don't you tell him?”

“Because...”

“Because?”

Tommy would feel like pulling out his hair at this point. “Because I have spent so many years letting those parts of me go!”

“Have you really let them go? Unless you hit your head and get amnesia, is that even possible? Wouldn't it be easier if you let your partner help carry the burden when it gets hard for you?”

“He doesn't need to carry my burdens.”

“Don't you help carry his?”

On the street, Tommy stopped in his tracks. He groaned, staring up at the sky as if his therapist was some ethereal being. “I hate you,” he mumbled, before turning around and heading back home.

*****

He opened the door expecting to be hit with the ghost of his father standing there just hours earlier. Instead, he was met with the sight of Evan. Straight ahead at the kitchen table. He plopped his phone down on the table and stared up at Tommy, eyes wide and wet.

“Hi,” Buck said softly. He eyed Tommy carefully, trying to gauge the mood.

Tommy let out a shaky breath. “Hi,” he replied, shrugging off his jacket and, once again, placing it on top of the duffel that hadn't moved.

“I was worried about you. You didn't take your phone and I- you were gone a long time.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't realize.” He really hadn't. He forgot he had ever put it in his duffel in the first place, usually opting to keep it in his pocket the majority of the time.

“S'okay.”

Tommy walked over to the table, pulled out the chair next to Buck, and sat down.

“I'm sorry, Evan,” Tommy repeated, for a different reason this time. “I shouldn't have left like that.”

“You don't need to be sorry.” Buck sat up straighter, splaying his hands out on the table. “I'm sorry. I had no idea your dad was like that. If I did, I never would have let him in your house.”

“Our house,” Tommy corrected. “Soon enough, anyway. You don't need to be sorry either. You didn't do anything wrong.”

Buck smiled at him, turning one hand up for Tommy to take. “Can neither of us be sorry instead then?”

Tommy held onto it, Buck's touch relaxing him in the way it always did. “Sounds good to me.”

“Are you hungry? I left the food in the oven on warm, just in case.”

Tommy nodded. “Yeah, I am actually. I'll get it though, you relax.” He squeezed Buck's hand as he got up. Before walking away, he leaned down, pressing a kiss to Buck's temple. When he began to pull away, Buck held onto his shirt, turning his head and giving him a real kiss. He moved his hands up to Tommy's face, stroking his thumbs along his cheeks as he did his best to project all his love into the kiss.

Tommy looked dazed as they parted. “I think I need to go on walks more often.”

Buck rolled his eyes, swatting at Tommy's butt as he walked off. “Ass.”

“And you love it.”

“I suppose I do.”

“So, what'd you make?” Tommy asked, putting on some oven mitts before pulling the dish out of the oven.

“You're, uh, not allowed to laugh at the name. It's a recipe I got from Bobby, but he got it from the internet or something.”

“Oh God, did you make that goat in the boat dish again?”

“It was toad in the hole, and you loved it!”

“Mm,” Tommy hummed. He got out a couple plates and started plating the food. “What's it called?” he asked again.

“It's... It's called, um, it's Marry Me Chicken.”

After a beat of silence, Buck looked over to see Tommy staring at him, an eyebrow raised. “Evan Buckley, are you proposing to me over a chicken dish?”

Another eye roll. “Absolutely not.”

“You know the saying, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.”

“And all this time I thought it was through his ass.”

“Aye!”

Buck laughed, resting his chin on his hand as he watched Tommy finish up in the kitchen. “There's also some very finely chopped cucumber in the fridge if you'd like that as well, but it's not part of the dish.”

“Still a delightful addition to any meal,” Tommy replied, grabbing the bowl out of the fridge. He balanced it on his wrist before picking up the plates and bringing them to the table. “This looks amazing, Ev.”

“I hope it tastes good.”

“I'm sure it will.”

As Tommy and Buck both began to cut up their pieces of chicken, Tommy glanced over at his boyfriend. “So, um, tonight was... it was a lot.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“I wanted to...” Tommy's voice trailed off, unsure of how to articulate what he wanted to say. He put down his cutlery and focused on Buck. “I was thinking on my walk about how open you've always been, talking about your mom and dad. Even the hard stuff, the uncomfortable stuff, you share it all. I- I haven't done that with you, Evan. That's not fair to you.”

“I've never felt that way,” Buck assured him. “I understood.”

“Still, I- I've always shared everything with you, besides that. It's not even the worst parts of me, really. I know... I know that stuff, when I was a kid, I know none of that was my fault. I think part of me felt like if I ignored it forever, it would eventually go away.” He shook his head. “It doesn't go away.”

Once again, Buck held out a hand for Tommy to take, connecting them on top of the table. “I'm here. Whenever you're ready. Now. Ten years from now. Whenever.”

Ten years from now. Those words hit him hard. He could feel his heart swell.

They were forever. Evan was his forever.

He took a deep breath, his residual anxieties melting away. “There's a lot about my parents you don't know.”

“Practically everything,” Buck agreed.

Tommy let out a laugh. “Well, I'd like to change that,” he replied, sharing a soft smile with Buck.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “Because we don't have to right now, if you're not ready.”

“No, I'm ready,” he answered. He squeezed Buck's hand tighter. “There's a lot to talk about with my dad,” he started, grabbing up his fork with his free hand to pierce a piece of the chicken, “but I think I want to start with my mom. She was... She was a lot like me.”

Buck nodded, smiling gently. “I love her already.”

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #911 #tevan #kinley

142 notes · View notes

do-androids-dream-ao3acc · 5 months ago

Text

@bucktommypositivityweek // #BuckTommypositivityweek, day 2 | NICKNAMES AND TERMS OF ENDEARMENT

[AO3 version]

– When? –

There was something Buck couldn't get out of his head.

A small thing, looking at the big picture, but he had always been a man of detail. He’d been thinking about it for several days now, nights even, although his head was resting comfortably in the crook of Tommy’s arm.

Anyway, Tommy. He had probably said his name hundreds of times by now (a not inconsiderable number of them moans), and it still rolled off Buck's tongue with a certain awe. Sometimes he woke up with a surreal feeling, wondering whether it could actually be true: fate was being kind to him, for once. All he had to do was turn his world completely upside down, and that hadn’t be hard.

For the first time in a long time, he felt like he was actually in a real relationship. The kind that led up to something true, something long-lasting. This felt good, so familiar and comforting, like he’d never felt before with anybody, not even with Abby.

That's why it shouldn't be so damn difficult for him to come up with a pet name for Tommy.

Strangely enough, he didn't expect the same from Tommy. He, too, had already called him Evan hundreds of times (some of them, yes, moans), and somehow, it was a distinction. A nickname is given to make sure you belong in your group of friends, and that had always been very important to Buck. He'd forgotten what it felt like to be Evan, a name untainted to Tommy who didn’t know what he’d done, how he’d been before. It was an accolade to be Evan for Tommy.

And maybe it was just a mature way to have a relationship, one in which you cultivated a connection that had no need for pet names.

He didn’t really believe that. Actually, he didn't want to believe it, because every time Buck looked at Tommy, he became so insanely… soft. Not in the parts that mattered, of course, just… kind of weak, in a good way. Surely, Buck had always basically melted for any kind of affection, but this was different. Tommy was like a precious treasure that needed to be protected; a very special person who deserved a very special name.

So Buck lay there night after night thinking about it, displeased with everything that crossed his mind.

Baby? Nope. The man was almost 6’2’’ and a Muay Thai fighter, he could throw Buck if he wanted (and sometimes, they both wanted that). Darling? No way, even with Tommy's fondness for Hallmark movies. He contemplated sugar, honey, sunshine, sugar snap pea and beautiful (by God, the man was a sight for sore eyes) along with a dozen more. None of it was Tommy, none of it completely captured him. Tommy, for his part, didn't use pet names either, which of course might have been an indication that he thought it silly. No matter how he turned it around, Buck couldn't find a solution, and certainly not a suitable name.

The average person speaks between 6,000 and 16,000 words a day, and maybe Buck should have just been satisfied that Tommy was now one of the most common words in his vocabulary. Fortunately, his everyday life offered enough distraction. Fate, however, finally decided to throw a spoke into his wheel.

In a week where temperatures reached nearly 104 degrees, the 118 suffered an unprecedented run of bad luck. There were minor mishaps, irritating breakdowns and outright accidents, leaving the fire station severely understaffed. Buck found himself working a 24-hour shift after a 48, which was anything but legal – however, he’d be the last person to tell the union rep. He wore his locker room’s spare clothing for three days, but with the crazy temperatures, people were straining too, so he barely got to take off his uniform anyway.

The climax was reached on Monday evening. All the air conditioning systems running at full blast had overloaded the city's power system, and not for the first time. Broken traffic lights during rush hour caused drivers to go into a frenzy. There were also numerous sunburns and heatstrokes, fights and other altercations and, of course, several fires.

Buck was extremely exhausted when they reached their next location, a chemical plant with numerous people complaining about vague symptoms. The prospect of possibly having to put on a chemical protection suit surely didn’t make him happy, and only the fact that Bobby held up excellently, despite his age and a few beads of sweat on his forehead, kept Buck going. Bobby, on the other hand, hadn’t been on duty for three days, and Buck felt these three days in every bone.

There was no alternative to the protective suit, as thick smoke was billowing out of the factory when they arrived. However, there was no sign of a fire, which is why a closer investigation was essential. The yellow protective clothing was heavy and hot, and after just a few seconds, sweat was pouring down Buck’s back. He found it harder to breathe the deeper they went into the factory.

“It's probably a chemical reaction,” Bobby said, ”be careful.”

According to the employees, there were various ways in which the substances stored in the factory could react with each other, and none of them were good. When he finally found the open barrel, Buck didn't think twice – despite Bobby's warning to be careful and Chimney's startled exclamation that he should keep his hands off it, he grabbed the heavy, metal lid.

“What do you think's in there?” he gasped as he lifted it.

“Just keep your nose out of it,” Chimney shouted.

Buck had every intention of doing so, but the lid was very heavy and his body was as exhausted as his patience. It would have been reasonable to wait until Chimney reached him to heave the lid onto the barrel together and stop the smoke. Instead, he tried to do it alone, stumbling under the weight and having to hold on to the barrel. The lid slipped from his grasp, clattering across the floor while Buck was completely enveloped in smoke. Dozens of possibilities for deadly chemical reactions flashed through his mind, and panic shook his whole body. But only very briefly – then, he collapsed unconscious.

“Evan, sweetheart,” Tommy said, ”let me tell you a story.”

Buck thought he was dreaming. However, he had never had a dream in which his eyelids were so heavy; no, actually his whole body felt as heavy as lead. His head was pounding, as if on the verge of a migraine, and he kept his eyes closed. Realizing that he was lying in bed, the unmistakable sounds and smells made him suspect that he had won another stay in what Tommy had teased to be a 118-wing at the hospital.

Tommy. Who was obviously here too, probably sitting in one of those uncomfortable and far too small chairs next to his bed. For some reason, he had said he wanted to tell him a story, although he thought Buck was sleeping. Or maybe exactly because he thought him sleeping.

Part of Buck wanted to open his eyes, look at his boyfriend and reassure him that he was all right. Another part, however, the far more tired part, just wanted to lie there and listen to Tommy's voice. That part of him tried to convince himself that Tommy had called him sweetheart. Had he? The only way to find out was to let him talk.

“... absolutely unnecessary,” Tommy just said. Buck had missed the beginning of the sentence, but he had a good idea of what it was about. Indeed, “Hanging your head directly over a barrel of chemicals, really.”

It was really hard to argue against that, and besides, Buck still pretended to be asleep, so he didn’t even try.

“You know,” Tommy continued softly, and Buck felt him reach for his hand. That was nice, and he had to hold back so as not to squeeze it. “In theory, it's all so simple,” Tommy went on. “You’re telling yourself that we both have potentially dangerous jobs, so we know what we’re getting ourselves into when we fall in love with a fire fighter.“

He paused, heaving a sigh.

"But of course, that's not true. Something happens and you realize that you're more afraid than ever before in your life. Can you even imagine what it's like when you get one of these calls? Who am I fooling… of course you can. Doesn’t make it any easier, Evan.”

Tommy fell silent again and, presumably lost in thought, ran his hand over Buck's ring finger. It was a strangely intimate gesture, almost seminal, and for a moment Buck thought about opening his eyes. But Tommy was already talking on.

“You realize that there are so many things you haven't done together yet, so many things you haven't said. What if you never have the chance? On the other hand, you're also afraid to say all this … that’s human, I guess. And, Evan, your doctor was just here, he said you only collapsed from exhaustion and a mild heatstroke, nothing that would cause permanent damage. So it would be easy to say nothing, and maybe I won't. But as long as you're asleep... perhaps this is the only time I dare. Because, Evan, sweetheart, I think I love you.”

Buck cracked his eyes open, despite his heavy eyelids.

“What did you say?” he croaked.

Tommy cocked his head, “How long have you been awake?” he asked.

It was not a dream. He was really sitting there, his tall frame pressed into a tiny chair, with a soft gaze that didn't hide his concern.

“D-doesn't matter,” Buck mumbled, just a tiny bit ashamed. “Because you're right.”

“I'm right? That's nice to hear, but what am I right about?”

“That you should talk to each other while you can. I’ve been thinking about a pet name for you for a while, you know? It needed to be perfect.”

“Ah,” Tommy returned, a twinkle in his eyes, “and now you heard me call you sweetheart for the first time, albeit in a moment of weakness, I’d like to add.”

Buck didn't go in for the joke, his gaze was serious as he replied, “Yeah, I think I was waiting for you to call me that.”

“Because it makes it more real.”

There was so much understanding and affection in Tommy's gaze that Buck felt dizzy. It might have only been the heatstroke, but his heart was practically overflowing in this moment.

“It-it does, I guess,” he said. “But then I realized that it's not a pet name that defines us. It's the things you mentioned. And I realized what I've known for a long time, Tommy.”

“What's that?” Tommy asked gently, as if he hadn't already suspected it. Yet it needed to be said, that was for sure.

“I love you too. And it must never be too late to tell you that.”

Tommy's jaw literally dropped, as if he had hoped, but not actually believed, that Buck felt the same way. No, rather as if he hadn't allowed himself to believe it. His features softened, and he squeezed the hand he still held with shaky fingers; so hard it almost hurt.

“Tommy,” Buck said softly, “did the doctor also say anything about whether it's okay to kiss me?”

“No,” he replied in a raspy voice. “Would you like that?”

“I would. But wait.”

"Hmm?" Tommy went, casting a desirous glance at his lips.

“Say it again.”

“Sweetheart,” Tommy breathed on Buck’s lips.

#writing #my fics #BuckTommy #bucktommypositivityweek #Buck/Tommy #BuckTommy fanfic #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 fanfiction #tevan

87 notes · View notes