#and of course ~buck sleeping on eddie's couch~

[buckleyseddie]

all i can say is, i was enchanted to meet you .・。.・゜✭ [1] [2] [3]

happy birthday @cowboy-buck ♡

[burnthatbridge]

if you love him let him go (if you love him let him know) 

pre-buddie, bucktommy | T | 3k | angst, pining tommy needs to tell eddie something not on ao3 atm because i can't figure out if this is done or if i'm continuing it - please let me know your thoughts! now on ao3 because i hate not having all my fic in one place

“Can I get you another beer, man?”

Eddie checks his watch. It’s only a little after nine thirty. He’s kind of hoping to get home before Chris goes to sleep, but he’ll not be heading to bed any time soon, will likely stay up later than Eddie. Friday night means he disregards his supposed bedtime — not that he sticks to it that well on school nights, now he’s sixteen. “Sure, thanks.”

Tommy nods, disappears into the kitchen, returns a moment later with a can of IPA in one hand, a bottle of lager in the other. They’ve already finished the six-pack Eddie brought over, but trust Buck — well, Buck and Tommy — to have Eddie’s favorite beer in their fridge. Tommy hands over the can, already cracked open, and Eddie takes a sip as Tommy settles down at the opposite end of the couch. He doesn’t turn to face the TV, sits twisted towards Eddie instead, but he does pick up the remote and turn down the volume, the post-fight commentary rendered nearly unintelligible. 

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Eddie twists towards Tommy himself, something not-quite-anxious-but-almost flaring in his chest. Over the years they have been friends, he and Tommy have spoken about lots of things, including those not so easy to discuss: their respective experiences in the army, Tommy’s tough childhood, Eddie’s difficult parents, the hard aspects of the job. But they’ve all been topics that have come up naturally, raised organically. Tommy has never led into anything with such a pointed opener before.

Eddie studies him. He has one knee pulled up on the couch cushion, foot poking out off the end, the other foot planted on the floor, nearly parallel to the base of the couch. One arm is up on the backrest, the other relaxed, beer bottle in that hand, resting on his thigh, dripping condensation painting a charcoal ring on his — probably Buck’s, in fact, given how tight the fabric is stretched over the muscle of his leg — grey sweats. He’s not tense, but he’s not smiling, and there’s something about his expression that Eddie can’t place. It’s not that he hasn’t seen this look before, because he’s pretty sure he has, witnessed it in flickers across numerous occasions over the years, there and then gone, present for but a heartbeat. But he’d never known what it meant any of those times and he certainly doesn’t now.

“'Course,” Eddie says, when Tommy doesn’t go on, seems to be waiting for some kind of sign. Then adds, feeling like it’s necessary given the gravity he can feel pulling this lightsome evening down to something more serious.  “Anything.”

Tommy sighs, bites his lip like he doesn’t want to speak, even though he’s the one who said he wanted to talk, then shakes his head and takes a pull of his beer.

“Is everything okay?” Eddie’s starting to feel worried now. He mentally scans back over the past few weeks, trying to remember if Tommy has mentioned anything about work that could be a problem. He saw him at basketball last week, and nothing had seemed off. Plus, Buck hasn’t said anything. Not that he’d necessarily tell Eddie about an issue Tommy was having, not if Tommy wanted it kept private, but Eddie can usually tell when Buck’s concerned about someone, and he hasn’t picked up on anything, not at all. 

But maybe this isn’t about a problem Tommy is having. Maybe this is a Buck problem, something Buck has kept from Eddie. It would make sense why Tommy would bring it up with him; sometimes a concerted, multi-person effort is the only way to get through to Buck. And Tommy’s more likely to bring in Eddie first, and then expand the team to include Maddie, Chim, more, as needed. 

“Is Buck okay?” Eddie asks, something like panic constricting his throat, making the words come out a little strangled. 

Tommy actually laughs at that, a small, choked thing, an exhale of sound and air. He shakes his head again, but not a no. More like an extension of the laugh, a motion to accompany it, to better convey the disbelief — not humor — contained in it. “He’s fine.”

It’s a relief to hear. Buck had seemed physically okay, when Eddie had seen him briefly before he left the house, since he’d maybe purposefully waited to order his Uber until Buck pulled up in his jeep outside, despite Christopher’s insistence he didn’t need to wait for Buck to arrive, despite the fact that his kid is more than old enough to be left in the house alone for the twenty minutes it would have taken Buck to drive over, while Eddie was ferried the opposite way. But there could still have been something, Buck could have been fighting through pain, much better at hiding any hurt of his body than he is at masking his emotional distress. 

“But,” Tommy says, and that one word is enough to have Eddie’s muscles tightening once more, “It is Evan I wanted to talk about.”

Again, Tommy doesn’t follow it up with anything. Eddie has found, in their time as friends, that Tommy is not often a man lost for words. Quite the opposite, in fact. He usually says what he means, means what he says, and is an expert at listening and delivering sage advice. This reticence– it doesn’t feel like it bodes well, has the hair on the back of Eddie’s neck prickling.

“Alright,” Eddie says, a feeble prompt. “So, Buck?”

Tommy nods, like he’s gearing himself up for something, to face a challenge, to take a punch. Eddie is expecting something bad, so the words he says catch him even more off guard than they would have. “I want to ask Evan to marry me.”

Maybe if Tommy had seemed eager, excited, when he turned to him, Eddie could have anticipated the blow, could have felt a creeping suspicion this is where Tommy was headed, could have been provided with enough of a heads-up to brace himself. As it is, he doesn’t see the hit coming, takes it full force to the chest, so hard it steals his breath, knocks the wind from him. His mouth goes slack, and he feels his fingers slide against the slippery sides of his beer can, almost spills it over Tommy and Buck’s lounge carpet before he gets a hold on it, on himself. He forces himself to smile. “That’s– that’s great,” he makes himself say, only faintly aware that Tommy isn’t smiling back, like this moment should call for. “Did you–” he swallows around the bile climbing his esophagus, “Do you want help planning the proposal?” He wishes he could take the words back the second they’re out. Because this — just hearing that Tommy wants to ask Buck — is torture enough. To be involved with it, to help enable it, Eddie will be lucky if it doesn’t kill him. Maybe not his body, but certainly his soul. 

“No.” Tommy shakes his head. “No, I want to ask him to marry me. But I’m not going to. At least, not now.”

Eddie squints at him. The news that Tommy wants to marry Buck might hurt Eddie, but it’s not exactly surprising. Eddie’s seen how much Tommy cares for him in the years they’ve been together, has seen the way he looks at him, the way they look at each other. Has felt the way it burns him, the scorching heat of flame, the searing cold of ice. He doesn’t understand what Tommy is saying, doesn’t understand why this proclamation seems not to be a happy one. “Why not?” Eddie asks, almost grateful for the opportunity to present confusion, curiosity, rather than forced pleasure at the thought of one of his closest friends and his– best friend marrying each other. “You guys are serious. I mean, you live together.”

Tommy huffs another laugh, still more disbelief than humor, really the opposite of humor. “His lease was up.”

“Right. But he chose not to renew it. He chose to move in with you,” Eddie says, slow, struggling to understand, the pounding of his pulse not helping him think clearly, see through the puzzle that is everything Tommy has said so far and the way he has said it. 

“He was never going to renew it,” Tommy tells him.

And that’s– that’s something Eddie didn’t know. He hates it when he learns information about Buck from Tommy, always has, even though he fights with everything in him not to feel like that. Tommy is Buck’s boyfriend, of course he’s going to know things about him that Eddie doesn’t, know him in a way that Eddie doesn’t. 

“We hadn’t spoken about living together,” Tommy says, eyes on Eddie. “But he’d said he thought the loft was too expensive and he was spending nearly every night at mine by that point. When he wasn’t on shift. Or at yours.” Eddie pulls his eyes away, takes a sip from his beer for something to do, even though the bitter taste is turning his stomach. “He said he wasn’t going to renew it, that he’d look for somewhere new, cheaper. But this was too close to the end of his lease to find a place before he had to move out. I asked where he was going to stay in the meantime.”

“And he said with you,” Eddie guesses, more a statement than a question.

But Tommy shakes his head. A smile curls his lips but his eyes– his eyes don’t match. “He said he’d crash on your couch, actually.”

Eddie takes another mouthful of beer, holds it there, on the back of his tongue. He didn’t know any of this. Buck would, of course, have been more than welcome. Likely why he hadn’t asked in advance, why he planned for it without seeking permission. 

“I said he could stay with me, instead. That he’d be able to sleep in a bed here.” Eddie swallows, the beer somehow thick and cloying in a way that it shouldn’t be. “And then when he started making noises about looking for a new place, I told him he should stay.”

While it’s not how Eddie had, unwillingly, pictured it in his head — Tommy and Buck mutually agreeing that Buck shouldn’t renew his lease, deciding they wanted to live together — it still doesn’t explain what Tommy has said. “And he did stay,” Eddie says. “So, why aren’t– Does Buck not want to get married?” But that can’t be it, that can’t be right. Eddie is certain Buck does want to be married, only he’d tried hard not to think of Buck wanting that with Tommy, with anyone. Anyone else. 

“No, he does,” Tommy confirms it. He leans over and deposits his beer on the coffee table. Then sits back, still turned to Eddie, but arms crossed over his chest, like a protection of himself. “We’ve spoken about it, discussed it. And he’s told me he’s always wanted that, to get married, to be part of a family.” Tommy pops one hand out of the fold of his arms to hold it up, out, quelling, like Eddie has protested. He hasn’t, but his heart is doing something approximating a riot at the idea of Tommy being Buck’s family. “And I know he has a family. He knows he does. In you and Chris, in Maddie and Jee, in the 118. But–” Tommy breaks off, tips his head to the side, gaze boring into Eddie’s face so strong that Eddie wishes he could turn away, duck and run. “You know how much he’s always wanted to belong somewhere.”

He does, Eddie thinks, the thought almost violent in its intensity. He belongs with me. Except, he doesn’t. Not really, not how Eddie wants, not the way he does with Tommy.

“And I want that for him,” Tommy goes on, tucking his hand back in, squeezing his arms tighter about himself. Eddie’s never seen him like this, hunched in on himself, curled small. Tommy is usually so open, larger than life. “I want to be the one to give that to him.”

Eddie wants to be the one to give that to him. Desires it desperately, a secret need he’s tucked as far inside himself as he can. He can feel it now, raging to be let out, to be set free. But he can’t, he won’t. Buck is with Tommy, he’s happy with Tommy. Tommy who is so warm and kind and good, Tommy who is better than Eddie in every conceivable way, who brings so much to Buck’s life, who gives all of himself to Buck. Who wants to give him even more. Wants to, but apparently won’t.

Eddie doesn’t understand. “Then, if you want to, why won’t you ask him?” he questions, trying to. 

“If I ask him now, he’ll say no.” Tommy states it like indisputable fact, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world that Buck would refuse him. 

Eddie shakes his head, understanding even less. “But he loves you.”

Tommy smiles again, then, larger than he had before, but as devoid of happiness, as empty of cheer. This smile hurts to see, reflects the way Eddie felt inside when Tommy had said I want to ask Evan to marry me. “I know he does.” Tommy’s tone is sure, but wistful. “But he loves you more.”

It’s like– It’s like nothing Eddie has ever felt. Or maybe it’s like everything he’s ever felt. The shock of a residual lightning bolt, the joy of being a part of the 118, the pain of a bullet ripping through his shoulder, the awe of holding his son for the first time. Eddie wants Tommy’s words to be true maybe more than he’s ever wanted anything. But he also cannot believe them, has no trust that they are true. Because they can’t be. Buck loves Tommy. Not Eddie. 

“We’re friends. Best friends,” Eddie points out. “Of course, he– he loves me. But not more. Not like he loves you. He’s in love with you.”

Tommy sighs, arms uncrossing, palms coming to rest on his thighs, body taking on a posture Eddie is familiar with, the one he falls into when he’s talking someone through something, the one he adopted when Eddie came out to him some six months ago. “Eddie, he’s in love with you.”

Eddie shakes his head. It’s everything he’s ever wanted to hear, but coming from the wrong lips. Spoken by not by Buck himself but by Buck’s boyfriend, oh god. “He isn’t. Tommy, he can’t be.” 

But Tommy is nodding, nodding like what he’s said is true, like he wants Eddie to believe it. 

“He’s not,” Eddie says, hears the denial, the disbelief spill from him. Buck doesn’t love him. He doesn’t. But Eddie– Eddie loves– “I’m sorry,” Eddie says, almost a gasp. “Tommy, I’m sorry, I–”

“It’s not your fault,” Tommy cuts him off. “I knew what I was getting into. When I started seeing Evan, I knew there were going to be three people in this relationship. I just–” Tommy sighs again, scrubs his palms along his thighs. “I didn’t expect it to get this far. I thought we’d just be a fun, easy thing. Something to ease Evan into his sexuality, that new part of himself. I didn’t expect it to go like this. I didn’t expect to feel like this.” Tommy closes his eyes, lashes falling to his cheeks. He breaths in and out, while Eddie’s own breath is caught in his chest. When Tommy opens his eyes, he says, “But I don’t have to tell you how easy it is to love him.”

Fuck. Tommy knows. Because Eddie does. He loves Buck, loves him so endlessly he doesn’t know where the feeling starts and where it ends. Doesn’t know when it started; doesn’t think it will ever end. “I’m sorry,” Eddie whispers, needing to say the words again, needing Tommy — his friend — to hear them. 

Tommy lifts one palm from his thigh, his wrist pressing into the muscle as he cuts his fingers to the side in a dismissal. “Don’t apologize for it. I’m certainly not going to. I’m never going to be sorry for loving him.” He drops his hand back down, pats his leg, emphasis of the point. “But it is a problem.” He smiles, rueful. “I thought I’d be able to break up with him, if he didn’t break up with me. I should have, ages ago. I certainly should have when you came out.” 

Eddie, selfishly, had hoped Buck would break up with Tommy then. But it had seemed like a farfetched fantasy. He had told Buck he was queer after Buck had already moved in with Tommy. He’d admitted it to himself, to Frank, before that, but hadn’t told anyone else for weeks. In hindsight, sometimes he figures he’d left it too late, but most of the time he didn’t think it would have made a difference at all. But now, with what Tommy has told him, maybe it would have. It’s a knife sliding between Eddie’s ribs to think maybe. Maybe.

“But I didn’t.” Tommy looks resigned, shoulders drooping. 

“Why are you telling me this?” Eddie needs to know. It seems like Tommy has known for years that Eddie has loved Buck. Loves Buck. I knew there were going to be three people in this relationship. So why is he only bringing it up now?

“Because I didn’t. Because I can’t. I can’t break up with him. But I want to move forward. And I want to do so with him, for us to further our life together. But if I ask him to marry me when he doesn’t know for sure that you’re not an option, he’ll say no.”

Fear freezes Eddie’s insides. “So, what– what are you asking me to do?” Because Tommy is asking something of Eddie, wants something. Something Eddie fears he will have to make himself give.

Tommy straightens up, shoulders rolling back. He’s serious, solemn but not demanding or pleading when he says it. A devastating request. “I’m asking you, as my friend, to let him go.”

Eddie could be sick, he thinks, could vomit up the three and a quarter beers and the half a dozen chicken wings he’s consumed since he got to Tommy and Buck’s place. Could spill the mess of his insides up all over himself, all over Tommy, all over their lives. Tommy is his friend, was his friend before he was ever Buck’s boyfriend. Eddie should do this thing for him. Should give Buck his blessing to marry Tommy, give Buck up, give him over, completely, to this man who has loved him so well for the past three years. Eddie should; in his gut he knows it would be the right thing to do. But his heart– his heart is in revolt. It’s Buck. He loves him. How can he ever let him go?

Tommy leans forward, places a hand on Eddie’s leg, squeezes his fingers around the ball of his kneecap, until Eddie lifts his gaze and meets his eyes. “Or,” he says, somehow even more serious, “I am telling you, as your friend, to go and get him.”

[sauvignonlounicorn]

fluff prompt: Tommy comes to the 118 to surprise Buck at work, and finds Buck asleep on the couch

Oooh Ellie, I love this so much. I hope you like it!

"How long as he been like this?" Tommy asks, looking at his boyfriend with a mixture of, what he's sure is, affection and exasperation.

"About an hour," Eddie admits as they both stand there. "We made him lay down to rest, but he was out within a few minutes. We thought we'd let him get the sleep before we called you to grab him."

Tommy sighs. "I told him to call out but he refused."

"Sounds right," Eddie answers. "He's all yours, man."

Tommy snorts a laugh as Eddie claps his shoulder and walks away.

Tommy makes his way over to a very clearly congested Evan, and leans down, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Baby," he says softly, he doesn't want to startle him. Luckily, it seems to work as Evan's eyes flutter open and he gives a very unattractive, loud, sniffle.

He's so gross and adorable. Not that he'll tell Evan the first part of course. He's never made that mistake, not even with the boils.

"Hi," he rasps and Tommy winces in sympathy. "What're you doing here?"

Tommy laughs a little at the absurdity of the question considering that Evan's cold has clearly gotten worse.

"I'm surprising you," Tommy says brightly. "With a trip home! Isn't that great?"

"No, but, I don't need to-" he's interrupted by a loud coughing fit. "-go home."

"Uh huh," Tommy says skeptically. He raises his head and hollers towards Bobby's office. "Bobby, want me to take Evan home with me?"

"For the love of God, yes," Bobby hollers back and Tommy looks at Evan pointedly, who promptly rolls his eyes.

"Fine," Tommy resists the urge to tell him that that sounded like 'find.' He's a good boyfriend like that.

"Come on, sweetheart," he says, grabbing Evan's hands and tugging him off the couch. "I already stopped and got you some meds so we can go straight home."

Evan sags against him. "Okay."

He gets Evan to his truck, tucking him inside before going around and getting in himself.

"Hey, Tommy?" Evan asks, really sounding miserable and Tommy feels for him. They hate it when the other is sick because they know there's not really that much they can do but be there for each other.

"Yeah?" he answers as he pulls out of the parking lot.

"Will you cuddle with me even though I'm all congested and gross?"

"You're not gross," Tommy says automatically and Evan snorts. "But yes, baby, I'll cuddle with you."

"Mmmk," Evan mutters as he lays his head against the window and promptly falls asleep again.

Adorable dork, Tommy thinks fondly as he drives them home. It's a good thing he's completely in love with him.

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 42!

another lovely reading week! i really need to sort through my marked for later list though, it just keeps growing... a task for next week, perhaps?

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! note that unlike in previous weeks, this list contains some fics that are set during season 8, so be careful if you don't want spoilers!

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

drench yourself in words unspoken | foxwatson/@eddiediazes | 26.2k | T

the one where everything in canon is the same, except eddie diaz is secretly a bestselling romance author, and nobody knows. Yet. romance writer eddie is brilliant, the vision!! and this is so well-written <3

lazy sunday (lay with me) | thelikesofus/@thelikesofus | 1.3k | G

Buck wakes up to sleepy morning couch cuddles with his second favorite Diaz boy AKA Eddie is clingy in the morning. clingy eddie is so special to me <3 this captures that soft moning atmosphere perfectly!

line | the_one_that_fell/@buckvalentina | 4.4k | E

Eddie and Buck cross a line in an El Paso motel. okay but this fic. THIS FIC. they absolutely would do the in person phone sex no touching thing. it's so them i'm obsessed

please, i've been on my knees | playinginthunderstorms/@playinginthunderstorms | 11.6k | E

Buck discovers he has a kink. this is the most recent addition to the list, i only read it this morning! and wow what a way to wake up... a good day to be me. it's sweet and funny and hot and i loved research!buck <3

pumpkin spice and everything nice | PretentiousSwanQueen/@hotcinnamonsunset | 4k | M

Buck tries to get Eddie to accept one pumpkin spiced flavored something in his life and eventually finds success (in love and edibles). no but this fic is so right buck would love pumpkin spice and eddie wouldn't!! such a fun read!

songs and poems and promises | lesbianrobin/@lesbianrobin | 4.9k | E

“Stubble’s kinda crazy,” Buck says, “And it actually kinda drives me crazy. I didn’t think I’d be into that, you know? But it’s cool. Like, he’s a man, you know?” [...] “It’s just like, you know, even though it doesn’t feel as good, there are still all these new things that I didn’t expect I’d like so much.” in just a few lines this captures the firefam dynamics so well!! and the buddie is also brilliant of course. i had a great time with this one <3

stop waking me up in the middle of the night | reincrimination/@reincrimination | 2.3k | G

“Do you not like sleeping with me, Diaz?” Buck hazards, taking a swig of his nearly-empty bottle. [...] “If you would stop waking me up in the middle of the night, I might like it more,” Eddie sighs, half-genuine in his annoyance. “Buck kicks like a racehorse.” pandemic era buddie bed sharing fics hit so hard <3 this is lovely!!

sweetheart (you look a little tired) | EiraLloyd | 14.6k | T

five times Buck tried to cheer up Eddie with baked goods, and one time Eddie tried to cheer up Buck with baked goods. i love baking and i love buddie so basically this is perfect for me <3 had a lovely time reading through this earlier this week!!

the kiss that lingers | greenbergsays/@greenbergsays | 10.7k | E

5 times Eddie kisses Buck's birthmark & 1 time he doesn't. birthmark kisses my absolute beloved <3 soft and sweet and so them!!

too often the power of touch is underestimated | xjustlikeyou/@xjustlikeyou | 15.3k | T

Five times a touch knocked Eddie off his feet, and the one time he got to return the favor. buddie and eddiekaren bestieism what else could i possibly want <3 so good!!

the sincerest form of flattery | canadadry | 1.7k | NR

in which Brad Torrence only almost passes out, and observes the aftermath. brad torrence is the gift that keeps on giving <3 i loved his inner dialogue here!!

touching me, touching you | rainbow_nerds/@rainbow-nerdss | 7.1k | E

Buck and Eddie wake up one morning able to feel each other's touch. They make the most of it. i love the premise of this fic so so much, it's so cool?? and executed so well <3

what's your love language? | songbvrd/@songbvrd | 18.3k | E

After finding out that Eddie doesn't know what his love language is, Buck sets about finding out for him. He begins a five week experiment, one for each love language, to figure out which will make Eddie feel the most loved. this fic makes me go !!!! inside. i love the way buck goes all out to make eddie feel loved while also thinking it's the most normal thing in the world. and that ending!

you bring me comfort | thewolvesof1998/@thewolvesof1998 | 4.2k | T

Eddie is touched starved and just needs a hug instead, instead he has his sweater. i've read this so many times by now, it's an absolute favourite!! i'm a big fan of giving eddie comfort in whatever way he wants or needs <3

[homerforsure]

Saw the episode. Ascended to a higher plane. Wrote a small Coda that is as messy as my brain is right now. Bone Apple Tea.

"Heyyyyyy Buck!" Eddie answers the phone with a drawn out salutation that proves Tommy was not lying about him being sent away from the hospital with the good drugs. Or, not lying about the prescription, but about Eddie actually taking them. It wasn't so long ago that Eddie would take enough medicine to avoid being in agony, but never quite enough to actually feel relief. He wouldn't do that for Tommy, however close they are. It's something that Eddie's doing for himself. Buck's stomach was a swarm of butterflies three seconds ago, but that and the floaty happy way Eddie still says his name, has him smiling again in his kitchen.

"Hey Eddie. I, um, I'm sorry to call so late. I just wanted to see how- how you were doing."

"Eh, I'll miss a shift or two. But Doc says I'll be ready to go for playoffs," Eddie answers.

Guilt twists through him, harsh and acidic and Buck says, "Well I'm glad to hear that. They say the team doesn't have a chance without you and your, um, sky dunk." Eddie laughs, giggles really, in reply and Buck says, "I'm sorry, Eddie. I don't know why I did that. I mean- I- I know why. I was jealous of you and- and Tommy-" Buck's heart flips as he says his name and he's afraid the kiss is going to come flying out of his mouth and down the phone line- "But I never wanted you to get hurt like that."

"You wanted me to get hurt different?" Eddie asks, still laughing, but Buck feels stricken.

"No! I- maybe. I don't know what I wanted. I lost my mind for a little bit."

"You were jealous," Eddie repeats.

"Yeah, I was."

A long sigh and Eddie says, "I'm sorry."

"You don't have anything to be sorry for. I was the asshole. I could have- I knocked you out of your shoe."

"Do you have my shoe?" Eddie asks, more focused than he has been the rest of the conversation. Buck can hear him sitting up on the couch.

"Uh, no. No, I gave it to Chim. He's gonna give it to you when he sees you. And probably make about 50 Cinderella jokes."

"Right. He texted me. I remember."

"I'm sure he'll bring it by sooner if you need it. Or he could give it to Tommy." The flush is there again, hot down the back of his neck. Buck doesn't know how he's supposed to do this. Where is he supposed to keep all of this heat and possibility while he waits for Saturday.

"You don't like him."

"Who? Chim? He's growing on me."

"Tommy," Eddie answers in a tone that says duh. "You can't even say his name normal."

Of course Eddie can hear that. Of course he assumes that's the problem after the way Buck has acted since the moment they met the man. He thanks god that he decided to call instead of driving across town and checking on Eddie in person. His cheeks and his ears are burning like fire.

"He can tell, you know. We both can. He said he's going to come talk to you. Gave him your address. Wants to apologize." Eddie must have settled back down on the couch. He sounds sleepier, his sentences getting shorter and more breathy.

"He did. He um. He came by. We talked it out. I told him you guys didn't have anything to apologize for. I was the one who made it weird."

"So weird," Eddie agrees and Buck laughs. "You guys should be friends. He's awesome and you're awesome and we can all hang out together and it would be..."

"Awesome," Buck finishes. He thinks it might be.

"I forgot you don't know that."

"Know what?" Buck asks, when Eddie's mumble doesn't come with any additional clarification. "Eddie?"

"Hmm?"

"Never mind. Hey, you should get up and go to your bed. Sleeping on that couch is not going to help your ankle heal any faster."

"Tommy said that."

"Tommy's right. Come on."

Eddie groans as he sits up, cursing at Buck in what he thinks is under his breath, and asks, "You talked to Tommy?"

"Yeah, he just left."

"And we're okay? You like him now?"

Buck's blood roars through his ears and he wants to throw up and start laughing all at the same time. "Yeah, I think I do."

"Good."

He breathes through the sudden headrush as Eddie grumbles and hops his way off the couch and down the hall. Buck knows where he's finding his handholds by the echo off the walls and he winces when Eddie takes a misstep and swears again. He thinks for a second that he should be there, that he should help Eddie to bed, but Eddie would never let him. Buck wonders if Tommy would let him. He's wondering about so much now and he never did before.

"Hey, Eds?" The question is out before Buck realizes he's asking it, small and vulnerable, and he wants to claw it back and swallow it down before Eddie notices, but he doesn't have a chance.

"Yeah?"

Tommy kissed me. I want him to do it again.

"No, nothing. Just. I'm sorry. I was out of line."

"You were," Eddie answers. "And I forgive you."

Something settles in Buck then. A piece that had still been sitting off kilter and jamming painfully under his ribs. He takes a deep breath, and joy washes fully over him, calming and centering. He doesn't ask the question again though. He thinks he wants to keep this tiny, glowing treasure to himself. At least for a little while.

"Bring me my shoe back and we'll call it even."

Buck laughs, letting the sound ring out through his apartment and he can hear Eddie smiling on the other end of the phone.

[eddiestightywhities]

Eddie stumbles from his tangled bedsheets to go take his nightly piss—alarm clock beaming its 4:03 AM display directly onto his sleep-wrecked retinas and etching it there for what will possibly be all of eternity—because being past the age of thirty is all fun and games. 

Bare feet padding quietly as an exhausted still half-asleep one hundred and seventy-five pounds not far off six-foot guy can manage, he's just about to pass the living room when he hears... something.  

He stops. Holds his breath. Listens. 

Buck is mumbling, talking in his sleep.

“And, man, I (something something) you. Because you always listen to me; never make me feel bad for (something something), always make me feel like I'm worth sticking around for, and I (something something) for that, Eddie.”

Buck is dreaming. Buck is dreaming about Eddie. Buck is dreaming about Eddie making Buck feel wanted. 

Eddie smiles—and before realising what he's doing he is in his living room, leaning over his couch, leaning over Buck, and pressing a soft kiss to Buck's birthmark as if he's done this a thousand times before. 

Buck wakes, blinks, smiles sleepily back at Eddie, cute as a bug, and is then craning his neck to peck his own soft kiss to the small mole underneath Eddie's left eye. 

With the speed of a gunshot or a lightning strike, Eddie suddenly doesn't know why the hell Buck is sleeping on his couch instead of in his bed, or why the hell he hasn't had the guts to tell Buck that he is so, so in love with him—especially after Buck split with Tommy a few weeks back and started testing the water with Eddie when Eddie grew a moustache and styled his hair a little differently and suggested they go to that gay club down on Burbank together to drink stupid amazing pink cocktails and dance the night away as if they didn't have a care in the world)—and then just as fast, he's thinking fuck it, and la vida es demasiado corta, deciding to remedy the latter (with the hope it might remedy the former) by saying, “It's ass o'clock in the morning, Buck, and I really fucking love you.” 

Eddie's best friend is at once wide a-fucking-wake, eyes the size of abuela’s best Talavera dinner plates, mouth doing a pretty great impression of a guppy as he gawps up at Eddie. 

There's a concerningly long moment of silence, before Buck says, “Oh.” 

Like a champ, Eddie chooses to ignore the way his heart plummets as it tries to relocate somewhere deep in his gut, because he's had to get pretty damn good at that, what with everything that has happened in his loco life. So he just smiles again, a little dimmer, a little more tight-lipped, while nodding his head and rolling his eyes in a yeah, silly ol’me, huh? sort of way, and is about to push himself upright with the hand gripping the top of the couch so that he can drag his sorry ass back to his bedroom and get a tension headache from not allowing himself to cry and getting zero sleep for what will probably be the rest his life and— 

That's when Buck reaches out, a big hand grabbing at Eddie's waist. 

Eddie's gaze tears itself away from those beautiful Talavera eyes that are shining brightly in the thick darkness of his sleeping house, settling where Buck's hand is holding him in place, where the contact blazes; not like fire but like the ever-burning candle flame that's lived behind Eddie's ribcage for the past seven or so years.

“Eds, I’m—I wasn't, like, awake enough to, uh, to, to, to process that? And the thing is—” 

“Hey, no, Buck, it's okay, you don't need to explain.” Eddie's heart is falling, falling, falling, right to the very soles of his feet. “I shouldn't have just blurted that out at you, without any preamble—

“Eddie.”

“—and I definitely shouldn't have bothered you while your were—”  

“Eddie." 

“—sleeping, I just—

“Eddie, will you shut up!”  

Eddie's teeth clack as he dutifully swallows the rest of his rambling. 

“Can you please just listen to me for a sec?” Buck pleads.  

“I—yeah, Buck, sure. I'm sorry, ‘course. Sorry.”

Buck takes a breath. “You don't gotta be sorry, Eds, I was just trying to say: The thing is, I have said a lot of dumb things in my life—like a lot—but me saying ‘oh’ to you telling me that you love me? Yeah, no, that has to top the bill. Dumbest fucking thing that's ever left these lips.” Eddie can't help it when his gaze flickers to the pretty culprits; it's an involuntary action by this point. “Because,” and Buck is now licking at them—tongue wet and lush against plush red—before he's honest to Dios batting those beautiful blonde eyelashes of his in Eddie's helpless direction, then breathing his next words right into Eddie's mouth as he leans up, pulling Eddie into him at the same time and fanning the flame in Eddie's chest by saying, “I really fucking love you too, Eds.”  

And then he's kissing Eddie again—only this time he's pressing his lips into Eddie's lips, and Eddie is right there with him, kissing Buck back as if they've done this a thousand times before. 

When Buck has to pull away, presumably to prevent a crick in his neck—Eddie cannot fathom even half of another good reason to stop—Eddie goes to follow him down, so eager after so long, wanting to cover the entirety of Buck's body with the entirety of his own. But Buck shakes his head and says says, “No, wait, Eddie.”  

Before Eddie's heart can start digging its way down through the carpet and floorboards and foundations and dirt to some place that resembles an old forgotten underground well, Buck is asking, “Can I come to bed with you?”  

Then Eddie gets whiplash from having to will his heart from beating right out of his chest with just how much happiness is bursting its way in there; with Buck bursting in with all of his love and sharing it with Eddie, just like everything else in their lives.  

Eddie feels his cheeks flush when he says, “That's, uh—honestly, Buck? You'd kinda be making my favourite recurring dream come true, if you did.”

“Well, you shot my recurring dream down in flames, Eds, by not listening to me for what must be the very first time in seven literal years and talking right over my heartfelt love confession—even if I did end up stealing your line,” Buck smiles. Then he frowns and tuts dramatically.“You're a monster, Eddie Diaz,” he adds, teasing.   

Eddie pays back Buck's grin with added interest, because it's as infectious and unstoppable as the common cold.

“Firstly, you had just answered 'oh' when I told you that I loved you, and secondly, does this monster not get a pass seeing as we just got off a clusterfuck of a twenty-four and it's ass o'clock in the morning and I'd assumed you were trying to let me down gently?” 

“Absolutely not, Firefighter Diaz. One should never assume when it comes to a Buckley.” He follows the statement with a pointed look. “But I might think about letting you make it up to me,” and he's now grinning again, and this time it's a sort of sheepish, hopeful thing, “if you agree to being the teaspoon to my tablespoon in your big, comfortable bed. What do you say?” He bats those blonde lashes again, as if Eddie would need convincing. 

“I say yes sir, Firefighter Buckley,” Eddie agrees instantly, obviously, bending down to scoop a surprised Buck up and over his shoulder and into a very appropriate Evacuation Lift, Buck kind of squealing hilariously when Eddie sets off for his bedroom at what is a pretty impressive pace, if you were to ask Eddie. 

And after they've sunk their bodies beneath the tangled bedsheets at ass o'clock in the morning (4.12 AM to be precise), and as Buck wraps the entirety of his long self around the entirety of Eddie, in Eddie's bed—their bed, now, Eddie's hoping—Eddie breathes in a full breath for the first time all summer, allowing himself to love and be loved.  

His next big breath is a couple of weeks later, when Christopher comes home and rolls his eyes at Eddie and Buck after they tell him they're together, merely giving them a slightly obnoxious finally! in that patented teenage tone before heading to his room to set up his gaming station and settle back in, like he'd never even been away.  

Oh, and in case anyone were to wonder, Eddie would have to admit that he really, really loves being the little spoon—almost as much as he and Buck love each other. 

.

on ao3 HERE if you'd like to leave me a comment!

[chronicowboy]

Buck is stood staring at his couch with a wrinkled nose when a frantic knocking rips him from his thoughts. Frowning, he skids over to the door on socked feet and yanks it open to reveal a harried Eddie and sheepish Christopher.

"Tell me you aren't busy," Eddie pleads, already pushing into the loft to set down two dangerously full grocery bags on the kitchen island.

The loft suddenly seems a lot brighter, feels a lot warmer.

"I'm not busy," Buck replies as he shoots a questioning look at Christopher who only bites his lip and looks away.

"Oh, thank God." Eddie grabs him by the shoulders with a grateful smile before taking a deep breath. "I am. Busy. Like incredibly busy."

"Okay..." Buck narrows his eyes at him. "So, I'm hanging out with my favourite Diaz then?"

"Hold the thought on that favourite bit," Eddie huffs, dropping his hands. Buck's shoulders turn cold at the loss, he shrugs the absence off. Eddie turns to Christopher with his arms folded over his chest and an arched eyebrow. "Want to tell Buck what you decided to tell me at four pm this afternoon?"

"Fine," Chris sighs, looking up at Buck guiltily. "I need to bake cookies for my whole class."

"Sure, we can do that." Buck frowns, sharing a look with a still frantic Eddie. "When do you need them for?"

Christopher averts his eyes. Realisation dawns on Buck, and he shares a knowingly unimpressed look with Eddie.

"Tomorrow," he mumbles.

"Chris," Buck groans.

"I know, okay?" Chris groans right back. "I forgot. I'm sorry. Will you help me? Please?" He breaks out his patented puppy eyes, and Buck has to try hard not to laugh at the notion he wasn't going to help Chris all along.

Buck steals a look at an apologetic Eddie, shakes his head in a way he hopes conveys I've got your back.

"Of course I will, Chris, you know that." His eyes snap to Christopher when Eddie's face melts into that dangerously fond expression. He's been seeing a lot more of it ever since he woke up from his coma, and it makes him feel a little like a lightning bolt trapped in a human body. He doesn't know what to make of it.

"You are a lifesaver," Eddie tells him seriously, pulling him into a quick hug. "I've gotta get over to Pepa's, but I'll be back around dinner time, okay?"

"Oh, I see," Buck tuts. "You just want to reap the benefits of all our hard work."

"Obviously." Eddie pulls one of his patented frog faces. "I wasn't trying to hide that."

"Lazy good-for-nothing," Buck says, except it comes out sounding much more like you're everything.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Who here was asleep for a wholeass week?" Eddie retorts.

"Ass," Chris snickers.

"Don't," Buck and Eddie scold in unison, sharing a bashful smile. Chris just rolls his eyes.

Buck tries not to preen at how natural all of this is, thinks of Bobby's words in the engine just before lightning struck.

Life's too short to take those relationships for granted.

Buck has seen his world without the Diazes in it, he'll never take them for granted again.

"I don't think a coma is technically considered sleep," Buck argues, just happy that Eddie isn't flinching away from the reminder of the accident like he used to.

"Well, you weren't snoring," Eddie concedes.

"I don't snore!"

"Buck, the only reason I felt okay leaving you sleeping on the couch to make Christopher's lunch was because I could hear you breathing all the way from the kitchen." Buck tries not to think about a worried Eddie hovering over him, fingers itching to reach out and find a pulse, lingering in the doorway to the kitchen because he didn't want to leave Buck alone. "You snore."

"You snore," Chris agrees.

"Betrayal!" Buck gasps. "We're making oatmeal raisin cookies."

"Nooooooo!" Chris cries. "Buck, please!"

"Do I snore?" Buck demands.

"Nope." Chris grins.

"Chocolate chip it is."

"Double chocolate chip?" he tries, eyes wide and sparkling. Buck loves him desperately.

"Nice try, kid." Eddie drops a hand onto Christopher's head. "You get double chocolate chip when you tell us more than one day in advance."

Something warm and content settles in Buck's gut at the ease of Eddie's us.

"Buck?" Chris pouts up at him.

"Nah, not gonna work on me." Buck shakes his head, folds his arms over his chest. Eddie sends him a smile, the small and private one that tucks itself into Eddie's rosy cheeks, the one that Buck's pretty sure he'd return from the dead just to see again.

"Okay, well, you two have got it under control." Eddie ducks down to drop a muah! on Christopher's head, presses a quick one to Buck's cheek. "I'm off! Love you both, see you for dinner!"

Eddie sweeps out of the door in a whirlwind of frantic energy. Buck just watches him go, mouth half-open in a soft 'o' as the skin of his cheek tingles where Eddie's lips had been. He stares at the closed door with wide eyes, stares for so long his mouth goes dry.

Maybe he does have the answers, maybe he's had a couch all along.

A sharp tug on his shirt pulls him from his trance, and he looks down at Christopher.

"Cookies?" he says, entirely too knowing for an eleven-almost-twelve-year-old.

"Cookies," Buck nods.

[achilles-rage]

thirteen crows: chapter seven

summary: buck and eddie continue to keep you company, until you find something interesting at buck's apartment.

word count: 3.0k

previous chapter

series masterlist

a/n: the second last chapter already, that’s so crazy😵‍💫 i love how this turned out and i’m so sorry for the cliffhanger but it had to happen hehe. enjoy<3

warnings: stalking, slight noncon, buck being crazy (cutely<3), no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

As the weeks go by, you start to feel less on edge about your situation. People are still dropping dead around the city, and you’d be lying if you said the details of the murder didn’t cause chills to run down your spine, but you don’t know any of the people. For some reason, you find it a little bit easier to sleep at night knowing this.

Buck and Eddie have been a tremendous help to your feelings of comfort and safety, too. Not only do they walk you home from work every night, except for when they’re working, of course, but one of them makes sure they’re at your home or you’re at theirs most of the time.

Tonight, Eddie’s at your house while Buck babysits his niece and Christopher. He’s made you dinner; nothing special because he’s not nearly as skilled in the kitchen as Buck, but you appreciate it nonetheless. You park yourselves on your couch, your leg partly over his as you sit cross-legged beside him, which is making it painstakingly hard for him not to pull you over his lap and press hot, open mouth kisses down your neck.

“There’s more here. You want any sweet- heart?” you hear him ask loudly when he goes to the kitchen to get you both some water. You’re so engrossed in the show you put on that you don’t think too hard about the pause between sweet and heart. You smile, shaking your head, although he’s not able to see you from the kitchen.

“No, thanks!” you yell back, and Eddie can’t even answer. His hands are gripping the side of the counter as he bows his head, taking deep, steady breaths. He almost fucked up. Like, really fucked up. His jaw is clenched as he tries to calm himself down; he knows you’ll get curious if he spends too long in the kitchen. But he knows how badly it would’ve gone if he let his words actually slip, which makes it hard for him to slow his racing heart.

He remembers the realization on your face when they called you sweet girl as they killed Isaac. He knows that you’d put two and two together. You’re their smart, sweet girl, of course you’d fucking put it together.

After a minute, he comes back into the living room with two cups of water, and you thank him absentmindedly, barely even glancing at him before your eyes are back on your show. He lets out a long exhale as he lowers onto the couch beside you, extremely grateful that you hadn’t caught on.

He knows he’d be able to come up with a plan, but he’s extremely happy that he doesn’t have to now. He’s enjoying his time with his sweet girl, and he doesn’t want to cut it short by using one of her own knives to shut her up. The thought does make his dick twitch though, and he grips his fork tighter as he pictures it.

When you’ve both finished your dinner, he pulls your legs onto his lap, patting the top of your thigh gently as he gives you a soft smile. You feel the heat rushing up your neck as you feel his fingers grazing your inner thigh, but you smile back at him anyway.

“Thank you for being here.” you say in a quiet voice after a little while. He looks over to see you laying back on the couch, legs still over his lap, and fighting hard to keep your eyes open. He chuckles softly, and he can’t resist the urge to reach a hand over and cup your cheek in his hand, rubbing his thumb over your skin gently. 

He smirks when he sees you lean into his touch, and he’s not sure what he likes more; your eyes full of terror, or you looking so soft and safe with him here.

“You don’t have to thank me. We told you we’d protect you, and that’s what we’re gonna do.” he tells you, his voice slightly rough even though it’s full of care. You smile, and your eyes finally close as you rest your head completely on the backrest of the couch.

“I’m losing you here, honey. You should go to sleep.” he teases quietly, hand still caressing your cheek. You smile, although your eyes are still closed, and nod, mumbling a soft “okay” before you stand up slowly. 

He helps you get to your bedroom, then when you’re happily tucked into bed, he turns off your light and goes back to your living room. He takes your dishes to the kitchen and cleans up the mess, moving silently as he tries to distract himself from your plush body in the next room.

He groans softly when he goes to check on you an hour later, and if he didn’t already have a plan, he’d call Buck and tell him to come over right now so they can have their way with you.

He knows they can’t, though. He told you earlier that he was going to spend the night, and if the two masked men snuck into your apartment while Eddie was supposed to be there, he knows that you would either never trust them again, or you’d figure them out, or both.

So, he goes back to your living room and makes himself comfortable as he lays on your couch. If it were up to him, he’d be in bed with you, arms wrapped firmly around your soft middle. He knows he can’t, though; he doesn’t want to move too quickly.

As if someone decided to answer his prayers, he hears your frantic voice from the other room, calling his name.

He’s in your room in an instant, sitting beside you on the bed as he cups your cheek and rubs his thumb across your skin again, shushing you softly. He tries to act concerned as he takes in your tear-stained face, but he loves the sight, and when you ask him in the sweetest voice he’s ever heard if he’ll stay with you, he smirks.

He lays beside you, getting under your blankets and wrapping a large arm around your waist, pulling his chest flush against your back. When he’s sure you’re asleep, he whispers in your ear in a gruff voice.

“Good night, sweet girl.”

The next morning, your bed is cold, and when you sit up, you see the note on your bedside table. If it weren’t there, you’d assume you dreamed the entire night. Eddie’s always so sweet, of course, but he was so good to you last night. You feel a little embarrassed about asking him to sleep with you, but after the dream you had of the men terrorizing you, you certainly don’t blame yourself.

You feel a little more on edge this morning, though, even though Eddie’s note told you that Buck would be coming by later in the afternoon to keep you company. Last night, you could barely tell what was a dream and what wasn’t. You swear that as you were about to fall back asleep, you could hear the men’s voices, and the name they call you, although you know it couldn’t be. Eddie was right there.

You feel like your dreams are bleeding into your real life, and for the rest of the day, even after Buck comes over, you feel a little extra jumpy. Buck hardly notices though. He’s so excited to have you taste test his improved brownie recipe that he doesn’t notice the way you jump when he drops his phone right in front of you.

Almost a week later, you’re at Buck’s apartment. It’s almost sunset, and you’re still sleepy from staying up so late. You’re still in your pajamas, and your eyes feel heavy with sleep as you lounge around his place.

You worked the night before, an earlier shift than the closing ones you’re used to, and when Buck got you back to his apartment, he insisted on having a “sleepover,” as if that wasn’t what you’ve been doing for the last few weeks. When you got to his house, he made you shower and change into pajamas, and when you went down to his living room, he had popcorn, chocolate, chips, and sour candies spread across the coffee table. 

Your heart had swelled at the sight of him looking so proud of himself, and you couldn’t help snuggling up to him when you sat on the blanket-covered couch beside him. Your head stayed in place on his shoulder the entire night, and by the end of the first movie, his hand had made itself firmly at home on your thigh.

You both stayed up until almost 5am, and when you woke up the next day, well into the afternoon, his head was laying back at an awkward angle on the couch and your head was resting in his lap. 

Now, you’re sitting at his kitchen table, one leg crossed under the other as you text Tara, laughing silently about how her closing shift went with the new guy that was nice, as it turned out, but extremely stupid.

“Oh, before I forget; did I leave my sweater here a few days ago? The blue one?” you ask Buck after a few minutes, tearing your eyes away from your phone and looking over to him making dinner.

“Uh, yeah. It’s in my closet. I washed it for you. You got pasta sauce on it.” he tells you, turning and giving you a fake disappointed look as he says the last sentence. You roll your eyes, laughing softly as you stand up from the table.

“Well, thank you.” you begin in a sarcastic tone, “I’m gonna go grab it.” 

Before he has a chance to respond, you’re dragging yourself up to his loft, still feeling a little groggy from staying up so late and sleeping through half of the day.

When you pull open his closet doors, you don’t see your sweater anywhere. Since you don’t want to distract Buck from dinner, you begin to move the clothes around, hoping that maybe your sweater had just fallen off a hanger or is hidden under some of his shirts that are hanging up.

You’re halfway into his closet now as you get on your knees, moving the various articles of clothing on the hardwood floor when you see a sliver of a very familiar mask. Your stomach drops as the shirt you’re holding finally moves away from the mask completely, and you drop the shirt as you kneel there, frozen.

It has to be a coincidence, you think. It can’t be Buck; he’s Buck. 

Buck continues to absentmindedly get dinner ready as you go upstairs, and not even a minute later his eyes widen as he remembers what’s shoved in the back of his closet. His grip tightens on the knife he’s holding as he darts towards the stairs, taking them two at a time as he races to his room.

You whip your head around when you hear him coming up the stairs and get up quickly, but not before Buck gets a perfect peek of you kneeling down from behind, your ass on display for his eager eyes.

Buck can see the uncertainty in your eyes as you stand up, and he knows you’ve found the mask. He takes a step closer, and his eyes darken as he sees you take a step back, a quiet chuckle escaping his throat as he takes in your sheepish demeanour. 

“You weren’t supposed to see that, sweet girl.” he growls as he takes another step closer. He knows he should play dumb, should make up a harmless story about it; it’s what Eddie would do, but he can’t help it. The look in your eyes is so close to fear, and it only makes him push further.

Tears form in your eyes when the realization hits you. The other night when Eddie was over, it wasn’t you dreaming. He had been the one to say it. You can see the predatory look in Buck’s eyes as he stalks towards you, and although you try to move away from the closet and further away from him, he’s still blocking the staircase. 

You let out a soft whimper as your back hits the wall behind you, your whole body shaking as you watch him cross the distance between you. 

When he finally gets to you, you have to crane your neck up to look into his eyes, your lip quivering as you speak.

“No. It can’t be you.” He smirks, his empty hand coming up to rest against the wall beside your head as the one with the knife slowly drags the blade across your neck and down towards your chest.

“It is, baby. Surprised?” he purrs, then leans down towards the crook of your neck as he inhales your scent. You shudder, turning your face away from his as tears fall from your eyes, and he chuckles again. The sound of his dark laugh makes your blood run cold, and in a split second, you’re darting around his large frame and trying to run for the staircase. 

You need to get out of here. Now.

He grabs the back of your shirt before you can get far, however, and you yelp loudly as you’re pulled back against his hard body. You thrash against him, your frightened whimpers echoing through his apartment, but as soon as the knife moves up to your cheek, the sounds die on your lips. 

“There we go, sweet girl. We’re not gonna hurt you. Not if you’re good for us.” he whispers in your ear, his other arm firmly around your plush middle. Your legs almost give out as you realize that you’re not getting out of his strong grip, and even if you do, you’re sure he isn’t planning on merely scaring you with that knife.

“Then take the knife off my neck.” you try to say sternly, but your voice comes out in a shaky whisper. He nibbles on your ear, a smile making its way onto his face.

“If I do, will you run?” he asks in an almost cocky tone. You shake your head quickly, and he smirks, lowering the knife from your neck hesitantly.

“You promise you’re gonna be good for me?” he asks, his breath tickling your ear and making you shiver.

“Yes.” is all you say; it’s all you can force yourself to say. You’re sure that if it wasn’t for his strong body behind yours, your legs wouldn’t be able to hold you up right now.

He throws the knife onto the bed a few feet away, then turns you in his grip, holding your hips firmly as he presses his body against yours.

You search his eyes for any signs of softness you’ve grown used to as he studies your face, but it’s long gone by now. His eyes are filled with lust, and he has a devilish smirk as he leans his head down to capture your lips in a desperate kiss.

You freeze as you feel his lips working against yours, and it’s not until he lets out a low moan that you finally kiss him back, brain cloudy as you give in to him. You know there’s no way out now, so you might as well go along with his actions.

You hate to admit, but he’s an amazing kisser, and you immediately know who the more eager kisser was between the two masked men when they were in your apartment. You can’t help the whimper that escapes your mouth as he slips his tongue into your mouth, and one of his hands moves up to your jaw to tilt your face further up into the kiss.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you like this?” he murmurs against your lips, and you moan again at his words. You can feel the guilt eating away at you as you feel the familiar feeling of desire in the pit of your tummy and the pool between your thighs, and you hate yourself for being so turned on by how desperately he’s kissing you.

He’s just so attractive, and he’s so eager to have his hands and lips on you that you can’t help the inappropriate thoughts filling your brain. 

“I knew when I saw you at work that I had to have you.” he mutters, pulling back just long enough to take in your tear-stained cheeks and heaving chest.

As he leans back in to place kisses on your neck, you suddenly snap out of it. He killed Grace. And Isaac. Right in front of you.

You continue to let him kiss you, however, and when his grip loosens on you for a split second, you’re pushing him away and racing towards the stairs again. His brain is so fogged over with his need for you, that it takes him a second to respond. He grabs the knife off the bed and follows you down the stairs, an angry expression on your face.

You make it all the way to the kitchen before he’s on you again, grabbing your hips and throwing you to the ground. You yelp in pain as you hit the ground, but roll over quickly, trying to fight him off you as he kneels down to straddle your hips. 

He dropped his knife in the struggle to pin you down, so when he’s finally over top of you, looking down with a devious smile, he has to improvise. 

You feel the air ripped from your lungs as his hands go to your throat, tightening more and more as he watches you struggle to breathe. You’re still thrashing in his grip, but he keeps his hold strong until your movements become slow and sloppy. 

As your eyes flutter closed and everything goes black, the last thing you see is him leaning down to whisper in your ear, and the last thing you hear is his rough voice saying “just let us take care of you, sweet girl.”

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[buckevantommy]

idk why everyone is saying the convo with eddie meant buck's plans with tommy didn't happen. they had their talk and then he went on his way. buck's mood had shifted, his mind elsewhere, but he still went to stay the night at tommy's. maybe they didn't have sex right away or at all; tommy noticed buck was distant and it didn't take much to get him to open up about the eddie/kim/shannon thing, and tommy was receptive and concerned (eddie is his friend too remember) and buck found his words and presence comforting because tommy just has that affect on him. buck decides he still wants to cook for the distraction and to get out of his head and enjoy their night together and he accepts tommy's assistance in the kitchen with a gentle kind of joy. tommy praises buck's cooking and buck preens and they settle in with a documentary and buck gets some amazing couch cuddles and soft hair and temple kisses with tommy's arms around him. buck is in factoid mode as they chat before bed and tommy doesn't just indulge him he's genuinely interested in buck's takes even when the subject matter wouldn't normally interest him and he's so fond and so gone on his boyfriend. and then either there's some more amazing snuggles or buck wanting to blow tommy and tommy counters with wanting to blow buck or jerk him off while kissing his neck so buck can continue talking and it's light-hearted and intimate and considerate and fun and exactly what buck needed. and when they're settled under the covers with legs entangled and buck's face tucked under tommy's chin feeling sated and safe and wanted and understood, he thanks tommy - for tonight, for everything - and tommy says of course and kisses his head again and buck snuggles closer and they drift off to sleep and... do you see??

[marviless]

where forever lies

buck/eddie | 30k | teen | a holiday fic | read on ao3

“Let me come with you,” Buck says, practically begging. “Look, I know it’s your son and your truck and your crazy plan, but it’s Christmas, and maybe it’s insane, but I’d rather be with you getting a neck cramp from sleeping in your passenger seat than on my couch alone or begging Maddie to let me sit in on her and Chimney’s plans. And then I can play my road trip playlist and find all the cheapest gas stations and make sure you don’t cost yourself two-hundred bucks by speeding on the I-10, and…it’ll be fun. I promise. Just—” Buck bites his lip and softens his voice. “Just let me come.” Eddie just raises an eyebrow at him and motions to the passenger seat. “Well,” he says, “you better get in.”

or, christopher has a request: to be back in LA in time for christmas. eddie drives sixteen-hundred miles to make it happen (and of course, buck comes along too).

READ ON AO3

[babygirl-diaz]

In Which Eddie Goes to Support Group

My version of last night's Buddie scene

Eddie: Thanks for doing this, baby Buck: Of course! Do you really think I’ll miss the opportunity to hang out with my favorite little guy? Chris: I’m not little anymore, Buck! Buck: You’ll always be little to me Eddie: Don’t get up to too much fun without me. Or I’ll feel left out Buck: Don’t worry, baby. We won’t have any fun without you. We’ll stick to the boring stuff like putting together a puzzle Eddie: That’s still too much fun. But don’t worry, I’ll be back from group before 9 Buck: Take your time. Group is important. We’ll wait up. Eddie: Love you both so much Buck: Yeah, yeah, we love ya too Eddie: Make sure he eats his veggies and doesn’t just fill up on popcorn Buck: I will. I’ve been taking care of him since he was 8, remember? Eddie: I was talking to Christopher Buck: I take it back. I hate you. And you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.

[matan4il]

Buddie 612 meta

I don’t think we’ve had this much fodder with such few scenes in a long time, and I am LIVING!

Okay, so first of all I have to mention the parallel between 217, when the team was coming in, one by one, to see the suspended Bobby, and this ep, with everyone dropping by one at a time to be there for the recovering Buck. The similarity is of course in the found family connection. In both cases we see the importance of the absent member of the team through these visits. The difference is in the way the team came to Bobby because they need him to be there for them as their captain and friend even when he’s not on the job. But in Buck’s case, they don’t need anything. They’re coming by because they want to be there for him when he needs his team members and friends. Buck’s parents needed a reason to love him. Buck’s found family in this ep is loving him anyway. ~~

I’m gonna scream about the couch in a second, but I have to admit that while I was watching the ep, the moment that REALLY had my eyes shoot wide open and my breaths go into hyperventilation is when Maddie reads the note saying Buck has gone out. Because as soon as it was made clear Buck had chosen to escape his apartment and all of his visitors, I knew where he was headed. First off, the very fact that everyone else came to him, while Eddie was the one person Buck chose to go to already had me biting my fists. Once more, like in so many other cases (for example, when the lightning hit and Eddie was filmed differently to everyone else in the 118, or the way he was the only absent person in Buck’s dream and the only one Buck remembered without needing a physical object to jog his memory), Eddie is singled out as having a unique space in Buck’s life that no one else occupies. And of course there is this domestic quality and element of choosing each other as we see them repeatedly opening the door for and to get to the other one. ~~

But just think of the meaning! This man puppy, who only ever wanted to be loved and who’s being showered with attention and care, is absolutely restless because he’s having a hard time and feels like he has to pretend with the people he loves the most, and therefore he’s failing to fall asleep on his own couch. He seeks comfort in a connection that’s even deeper than the people who have been to see him, where he can really be himself without pretense. And that’s what’s insane, because he was visited among others by Maddie and Hen, his loving blood and adoptive big sisters. NO ONE can claim that his r/s with them is anything other than deep, and yet when he needed something more, when he needed an escape, when he needed a place where he could simply rest and be himself, he went to Eddie’s. This isn’t just Buck standing in Eddie’s kitchen declaring, “I’m not really a guest” in 311. This is him being more of a guest in his own apartment than in Eddie’s house. This is him being home and safe and able to JUST BE in Eddie’s space.

This is Buck beginning his healing by sleeping on the SAME couch where Eddie did in 514, connecting their healing in a parallel that is going to make me tear my own hair out. Which actually connects us back to 407, when Buddie talk about Buck’s need for his loft to be his safe space. Now it’s canon that this desired safe space is Eddie’s home, and I will chew through every piece of glass out there before I calm down from this. Once again, there are opposite sex canon couples on TV who never get this level of soulmate development! ~~

Oh, I also found it very interesting that Buck tells Maddie about his list he goes through every time he wakes up, to make sure he’s not in the coma world. We didn’t see him going through those steps when he woke up on Eddie’s couch. Remember how I said Eddie had to be absent in the dream world or Buck might not have made it out of there? Well, this ep adds to that. By virtue of being the only one who’s fully absent, it means Eddie is the one person whose very presence is a cue for Buck that he’s in the real world and safe, the only one who, by simply being there, negates the need for a list. I AM MELTING. (my gif, please excuse the awfulness) ~~

Speaking of soulmates bonding, I have to point out the opposite sex soulmates we do have in this very ep. Bobby confesses that Athena is it for him because she makes him feel like he’s standing on solid ground, she helps him be himself by finding again a piece of him.

We also see her becoming a part of his healing process when he allows her to come to his AA meeting. This is exactly what we see Buddie going through in 612! Eddie is Buck’s solid ground, the person he can count on and who can provide him with rest (that’s what solid ground represents), who allows him to simply be himself, and Eddie is also a part of the healing process that Buck allows him into by seeking out Eddie, and by opening up to him when Eddie asks him to, after finally getting some rest on the couch... ~~

That brings me to the couch because that in itself is just... Wow, this show really hates my nails and wants me to chew on them fully, I see how it is. Let’s not forget for how long the couch metaphor has been with us! Once Taylor and Buck discussed their couches situation when she was moving in with him in 513, and it was clear there was an incompatibility issue because she was bringing in a couch while he already had one (meaning they had already failed to communicate about this pretty basic point), it was clear they’d have to choose only one and dispose of the other. Very tellingly Taylor doesn’t really leave room for choice, so Buck (who only asked her to move in out of guilt) gave up his for hers. That’s the start of the couch being a metaphor for his romantic relationships, and I can’t believe it started a whole season before this ep! And then when Taylor moved out in 518, he was left with none? But that wasn’t unhinged enough for our show, so they brought it into an even greater focus with the lasagna scene in 601, when it was made even clearer that the “right couch” for Buck is about his romantic partner, that he’s aware of that significance, and that he admitted to it IN EDDIE’S PRESENCE. I can’t believe Buck fell asleep like that on Eddie’s couch, when they BOTH KNOW what the couch means. This is the most naked two men have ever been with each other on a TV show without taking their clothes off! Then Buck’s parents get him a couch he doesn’t want, one that’s all wrong for him, one he didn’t get to CHOOSE, so unsurprisingly he can’t sleep on it. That would have been a lot already, but then this ep turns around and SLAMS US IN THE FACE with Eddie’s couch being the right one for Buck to fall asleep on and to do so effortlessly! Two seconds on it, and Buck was out. That’s okay, 911, I just have to work a double shift while I’m sick today, I didn’t need to also have my sanity. You absolutely can have everything left of it. (my gif, please excuse it) ~~

I know it’ll sound dumb, but I was happy crying over the beers in Eddie’s fridge and the zoomed in shot we got of them. Look, it’s their thing, right? We’ve seen the two of them sipping on beers together in the iconic 309 kitchen scene (NGL, the oral sex scene in my Blue Against Blue fic was inspired by this), and it’s been a repeated theme, so when I saw Eddie had no less than 6 beers easily accessible in the top shelf of his fridge, chilling away, it screamed “This is my Buck stash” to me.

I will forever be a mess that Eddie Diaz, tough war veteran, actually has a supply of beers ready in his fridge for whenever soft man puppy Evan Buckley drops by unannounced. Can you imagine when Eddie goes grocery shopping and he probably smiles softly to himself when he buys his Buck beers? These two are so domestic and in love and equally soft about each other, it’s gross. And by gross I mean I love it, please gimme more. ~~

Oh, but the domesticity just keeps leveling up in this ep! Because then Buck wakes up and makes his way to the kitchen, where he just… lets Eddie take care of him by serving water. And it’s so tender and husbandy, and affectionate, and connects so perfectly to Eddie asking Buck to share with him. Because Buck wouldn’t let others fuss over him, but he lets his hubby take care of him. And he doesn’t tell others, even ones who are significant people in his life, where he’s really at, but he will share everything with Eddie. Not to mention that it doesn’t take much to get him to open up. All Eddie has to do is ask, and despite Buck’s initial announcement not to, he just goes right ahead and spills. I am inhaling and exhaling into the palms of my hands.

Of course, tucked in there is also Buck asking Eddie about the shooting. We all remember Buddie holding eye contact through that and Eddie reaching out to him, right? Or everything that transpired between them in the ambulance, all of it so romantically coded... This scene tells us that Eddie doesn’t remember those bits. I find it interesting to consider that maybe Eddie really doesn’t. That maybe the reason he hasn’t figured out yet how he feels for Buck is because he blanked out on the way he turned to Buck during the most intense moments of his life, and the ones he thought were his last. ~~

I mentioned during the hiatus in replies to asks I got that I suspected just like the distance between Buddie in 5a served to bring them closer together in 5b as Buck helped Eddie with his healing, the same structure was being followed in s6, just in the reverse, where Eddie will eventually help Buck. You can’t imagine how deep and meaningful I find it, that the show has actually structured these two seasons as counter paralleling each other, and showing Buddie as being a vital part of this mutual healing, so I tried to demonstrate that with this gifset. ~~

Last one! The cardiologist. Look, I already mentioned in my previous weekly meta that the heart theme started with Eddie, and then it was expanded to Buck. I find it insane that the show really hammered it home by having the same cardiologist be the doctor for both men, and that while she’s at it, she hints to both that their issues are not purely physical. How long before the metaphor-loving Buck catches on? IDK, but every single choice about this ep feels incredibly deliberate, when so much is condensed into so few scenes.

(my weekly meta posts) (my Buddie gifs) (all of my content)

~~ I can’t explain how much I’m asking of the amazing @whosoldherout​ for the gif requests, and the results are always so stunning, I’m deeply grateful!

~~ My tag list will follow in the reblog, please let me know if you wanna be added/removed here. Thank you in advance for any reblog and like! I’m sick and took three different medications to be semi-functional, so I really hope you’ll like this. Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you did! xoxox

[imfinereallyy]

Shared Kisses

for @steddie-week I’m behind on it but I couldn’t resist day 3, and it’s a little late because I fell asleep while writing it, that's how sleep deprived I am haha. prompt: first kiss

“Okay, okay! It's my turn now. Sir Steven, Lady Birdie, tell me, who was your first kiss?” Eddie giggles from his spot on the carpet. He smells like stale menthols and pine; Steve can’t get enough of it. He has to resist from leaning his head into Eddie and taking a breath of him.

Steve is starting to believe he needs his head checked. Again. Wanting to smell one of his friend's necks isn't normal.

Steve is also starting to realize that maybe that is because he wants to be more than friends. God, he is such a loser sometimes.

“Oh, this is unfair! You know the rules state that we can’t ask it back now. Boooo.” Robin chants from her place on the couch, where she hangs upside down. Steve is for once glad they aren’t playing a drinking game; he is sure Robin would have vomited by now otherwise.

“I still think this a weird game to be playing.” Steve dodges the question and nudges Eddie with his knee.

“C’mon Harrington, questions is an absolute solid getting-to-know-you game.” Eddie nudged his knee back.

“Dude we’ve been friends for six months.”

“Yes but there are so many layers I have yet to peel.”

Robin grunts from her upside-down position, Steve can tell all the blood has finally rushed to her head, and she tumbles onto the ground next to them. “Gotta agree with Metal Man here, Steve-o. I’ve known you even longer, and I still don’t know everything. And we are practically connected.

Steve blows air from his lips, “So this is just a ploy to expose all my secrets.”

Steve can tell that Robin, who might as well share a soul with him at this point, can sense how uncomfortable he is beginning to feel. Her teasing softens for a moment. “What if I went first, yeah?”

Steve pauses, “Yeah okay.”

“You got to promise not to make fun of me.”

“Of course, Robs.”

“I make no such promises.” Eddie interrupts but ultimately cuts the tension in the room. Steve kind of feels like it is on purpose, by the way his eyes skim Steve carefully, and the way Robin lets out a loud snort.

“Wasn’t talking to you doofus. I don’t actually respect your opinion of me.”

“Hey!” Eddie protests, but they all know he isn’t really offended.

Robin chuckles lightly, but continues. “It was in middle school, at one of my first girl-boy parties; gross, right? I hate that we called it those. Anyway. They decide to play spin the bottle, and I feel pressure because my only friend at the time is Barb, and she didn’t come and Colleen Walsh is doing it, and she—well, she’s the prettiest, most popular girl in school at the time and I���d be an idiot not to follow along. So we’re playing Spin the Bottle, right? And rounds go by, and it doesn’t land on me, and I’m grateful but Colleen notices. She goads me on to do it, take a spin since it isn’t fair I haven’t kissed anyone. So, wanting to get over being the center of attention, I reach over and spin it, and it lands on—“

“Wait.” Steve stops Robin, realizing she is about to out herself to Eddie on Steve’s behalf. He doesn’t want her to do that but on anything but her own terms. “Are you sure about this, Robs?”

Robin throws her head back and laughs, “Yea, I’m sure dingus. No need to worry. Anyway, you’ll never believe who it lands on.”

Eddie wiggles his eyebrows, “C’mon buck don’t leave us hanging.”

“Tommy Hagan.”

Eddie and Steve both start choking on air while Steve screams, “What!?!”

Eddie collapses on the ground with a dramatic groan, covering his face with his hands and mumbling, “why cruel world?” Robin giggles at his antics.

“You’re telling me it wasn’t….?” Steve trails off, hoping Robin gets the hint.

“That it wasn’t a girl? No dingus, just because I’m a lesbian doesn’t mean all my experiences are with women. Besides, I was 12; I didn’t realize staring at Colleen’s boobs wasn’t jealousy.”

“Oh, thank god, you know; I thought I was going to have to break the news to you that your gayer than the men’s locker room after a winning game,” Eddie mumbles behind his hands still on the ground.

“Only you would make a sports reference in relation to gayness, Eds. Also, wait, you knew she was lesbian? How did you know? Why are you freaking out then?” Steve rapid fires questions.

Still covered with his hands, “Like seeks like, Harrington. It’s like a sixth sense.”

Steve’s mouth goes dry, “You’re gay?” He says hopefully.

Eddie finally removes his hands from his face but doesn’t sit up. “Yea, Stevie, thought you knew, honestly. Not like it’s a secret, all of Hawkins talks about it.”

“I try not to listen to the rumor mill.”

A soft smile graces Eddie’s face, “One of the many things I love about you sweetheart.”

Steve tries not to blush, but ultimately fails. “Still doesn’t explain why you’re freaking out about Tommy. Sure, he sucks, but like I reacted that way cause I was friends with him at some point. What’s you’re excuse?”

Finally Eddie sits up with a groan. “Okay, promise not to laugh or freak out?”

Robin and Steve both nod and mumble a little “yea of course”.

Eddie rubs a hand down his face, “Okay, I freaked out because even though it’s not my turn to answer and I don’t have to, well—it’s because. Okay, I’m stalling; it’s because Tommy Hagan was also my first kiss. When I was 15, under the bleachers.”

Robin and Steve are both silent, Eddie looks at them expectantly. “Are you guys going to say anything?”

Robin speaks up first, “I think this is the closest we can get to not freaking out.”

“I think I would prefer that over the freaky twin silence.”

Steve still stays quiet while Robin proceeds to react, “Oh my god Munson! This is the funniest and freakiest thing ever. And not in a freak way you like! This is magnificent, oh my god….” Robin continues to cackle and make fun of Eddie, but Steve tunes it out. He can feel all the blood rush to his ears, blocking out all the sound from the room. Tommy. Tommy. He has kissed both of his best friends, one of which he wants to kiss himself. That just seems unfair to Steve. It hurts Steve, and he doesn’t know why. Actually, he knows precisely why.

“My first kiss was when I was 13,” Steve says abruptly, not making eye contact. The both of them stop their bickering and turn to Steve. They stay silent, as if they know Steve needs it to get through it. He is thankful for them both.

“I was 13, and my parents weren’t home. It had become the usual at this point, but I was sad because it was my birthday, and this was the first birthday they didn’t even send a card. And Tommy decided to come over to cheer me up; this was back, I guess, when he still cared too. And we didn’t do much; I didn’t like to make a big fuss about my birthday even then, but it was a nice night out just before the break of summer. So we decided to stargaze on the roof. And I don’t know how it happened, but one second we’re trying to find the Little Dipper, and the next, Tommy is kissing me. It was nice, honestly. To have someone you care about show you affection. And when he pulled away, I smiled at him, but he just stared. And then—“ Steve swallows thickly before looking up at Eddie and Robin, who both look at him with rapt attention.

“Then his face turns angry, and he punches me. He punches me so hard that I almost fall off the roof. He tells me not to be a queer, and if I told anyone, who would tell everyone what I was. And it seemed unfair, right? Because he kissed me, I only smiled. I haven’t kissed a boy since.”

Suddenly there is an arm around his shoulder, “Stevie….” Eddie tucks Steve’s head into the crook of his neck, and Steve begins to sob.

Robin quietly gets up, “I’m going to make us some tea.” Steve knows she can sense that he needs a moment with Eddie. Steve loves her more than life.

“I’m sorry this is stupid. I don’t even know why I’m crying.”

Eddie rubs soft circles on his back, “It’s not stupid, honey. He hurt you in more ways than one, and traumatized you from exploring yourself. You have every right to be upset. Thank you for telling us. You didn’t—you didn’t have to. You could have lied, or told us your first kiss with a girl.—“

“Colleen Walsh.” Steve interrupts into Eddie’s neck.

Eddie barks out a laugh, “Of course it was. Anyway, Steve, thank you for sharing. I’m glad you feel safe with us.”

Steve’s tears are no longer. “I always feel safe with you, Eds.” And the Steve finally does the thing he’s been wanting to do all night. He takes a big sniff of Eddie. Steve doesn’t care if it’s weird because he settles a sort of calm in him.

Eddie grips his waist tight, and puts a finger under Steve’s chin, pulling his face close to his own. “Yea, I do? Does that mean you also trust me?”

Steve can feel Eddie’s breath on his lips. He knows it’s probably not good how quickly his mood has changed, but he can’t find it in himself to care. The air between them is electric, and intense. Steve can feel it make his whole body come alive. “Of course I do.”

Eddie leans even closer, “Good. Because I think it’s a damn shame a pretty boy like you hasn’t kissed another boy since.” Then Eddie presses their lips together.

Steve isn’t sure if someone were to ask what his first kiss with Eddie was like if he would be able to answer. It’s indescribable; it’s perfect. But if he is to try, it would be this, soft, slow, deep, and oh so very good. Steve can feel the heat from Eddie’s lips pulsing into his own. Eddie’s hands' grip Steve’s face, angling him deeper as he slides his tongue into his mouth. Steve pulls him closer by his t-shirt. Going crazy off the taste of salt and chocolate that now swipes his tongue.

They both pull back a little breathlessly, hands still gripping each other. They lean their foreheads together, and Steve smiles. He smiles so big his face hurts. And Eddie does the most thing in return,

He smiles back.

The moment is broken, though, when Robin enters the room again with a bowl of popcorn and a loud “Oh thank god, I was sick of the pining. From both of you.”

Eddie sputters while Steve just laughs at her. “I thought you were making tea Birdie?”

Robin sits down next to them again, “Too much work and I was snacky.”

Steve throws popcorn at her head but isn’t upset at all. He leans his head on Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie kisses the top of Steve’s head.

Robin smiles fondly at them. Then her face scrunches up in pain, “Wait, all of our first kisses was Tommy Hagan?”

“Yep.”

“Unfortunately so.”

“God I do not want to give that twerp any more credit in life than I have to. Why are we all like this?”

Steve giggles while Eddie shrugs.

Robin can’t keep a straight face anymore and falls into laughter. “Wait, does this mean we are all bounded by this? I completely unrelated, non-upside down experience?”

Eddie speaks up before Steve, “I believe so, Lady Buckley. A trauma outside of other worlds binds us. We have been bound since before the slain of Vecna.”

Robin shrieks, “Awee, guys! We were always meant to meet then.”

Then Robin tackles the both of them to the ground in a bear hug. Steve’s not even mad that she’s in the middle of Eddie and him.

Because this, right here, is all the love he’ll ever need.

***

I'm behind on steddie week, but I want to throw my hat in the ring. Have a written a first kiss thing before? Yes I have. But I can’t resist. Thank for the read, love this community so much.

[tedious-waffle]

I swear the media literacy… saw ppl arguing this ep shows bucktommy not fitting together/ tommy’s separation from buck

“Tommy doesn’t support buck’s research binge” a) he literally listens, but also its fucking night time and buck needs to Rest after being Injured. Like hate a guy for being sleepy lmao. And b) BUCK IS SPIRALING ofc hes not like ooh yeah buck you ARE cursed and going to die! Like bruh. Also obligatory: hm you sure don’t have issue with Eddie doing the same thing…

“Tommy is sleeping on the couch not with buck in his bed” 😑 and if he did sleep in his bed you would say that that was bad too. Like bruh so theyre not at the sharing a bed stage whatever. Also just for scene composition, easier to have that morning after with buck in the same position but now with boils without tommy noticing be shot in the living room lol

*correction per @reads8hoursperday: “Buck has to sleep sitting up in that chair because of his shoulder.” Good point! Makes sense why Tommy just brought him a new icepack and then fluffed his pillow

“Eddie fixes up and reassures buck not tommy” EDDIE IS A MEDIC. Tommy isntttt. Also eddie razzed him just as hard lmfao. Also tommy literally IS reassuring him???

“Tommy isn’t in the group chat” YEAH DUH. ITS THE 118 GROUP CHAT. (And again if he was you’d complain about that lmao) Again theyve not been dating that long, tommy works at another station. Of course hes not in the group chat lmao. ALSO, from a TV writing standpoint, that scene works a lot better if not everyone in the scene gets the text and one person instead asks Out Loud what’s up, so it can be read out to the Audience as well.

“In the cemetery scene, tommy is standing sooo far away from buck.” Like idk even what to say man. That just a normal ass scene. Literally playing off of Every scene like it. The supportive partner/friend is always standing off to the side like that. And its buck’s moment. + uh you sure are ignoring the literal dialogue of that scene and the camera pans huh

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

Hi! For the ficlet prompts: For Tarlos: 🫶🏻 Breakfast date For BuckTommy: 🛏️ There's only one bed, and it's… a single (or broken? Like sunken down in the center or something. Whichever option sparks joy. 😂)

There's only one bed, and it's a single

A few weeks into their relationship, Buck wonders why Tommy still hasn't invited him over to his house. Somehow, they always seem to end up in the loft, apart form that one memorable date that ended in the 118's locker room – he’s still proud of himself for keeping his mouth shut about it the next day, even though his face probably screamed „ask me what happened last night“. Anyway, Tommy often just turns up at his door or picks him up from work and drives to the loft as a matter of course, and for a while Buck thinks it's just because he likes his place so much. It's tastefully furnished, right? And since he owns a couch again, Star Wars movie nights with Tommy next to him are much nicer.

It's just... Eddie had been so enthusiastic about Tommy's house, the garage, the dōjō; and Buck – Tommy’s boyfriend, mind you – hasn’t even seen a glimpse of all that. There are, of course, many possible explanations for this. Maybe Tommy’s a slob and it's always untidy (Eddie didn't mention this), or he's ashamed of his furniture (Eddie didn't mention this) or he's currently renovating (nope, not a word about that from Eddie). Either these made-up motives are as silly as they sound in Buck's head, or the real reason is him. Both could be true. 

One evening, after a very good dinner (it's perfectly acceptable to praise yourself, Buck thinks, especially after receiving top cooking honors from Bobby), it's time to grab the bull by the horns. 

“We're gonna sleep at your house tonight,” he says.

Tommy sets his glass down, blinks and replies, “We’ve basically just arrived at your place, Evan.”

"Right, but you’re staying overnight at my place about three times a week.“

“Didn't have the feeling that it was too much,” says Tommy with a wink.

Buck is melting away. This man has such a magnetic effect... But not this time, he swears to himself. He's let this slide long enough. If there's one thing he's learned, it's that problems should be addressed. This one isn't necessarily a problem, but it's a little oddity that has piqued his curiosity. And perhaps it also scratches his ego a little.

“No, I love it when you're here,” he says, feeling his cheeks flush. “But Eddie keeps telling me about your house and...”

“What is Eddie doing in this conversation now?” 

Tommy sounds genuinely confused, and he can't blame him. Buck takes a deep breath. 

“I want to see how you live.”

That's not quite the right approach, but at least Tommy smiles his adorable smile, which makes his face go all scrunchy. His answer, however, is not an exuberant “okay, let's get going”. Instead, he says, “That's sweet, but I'm rarely at home. It’s actually not that exciting.”

Somehow, it is, at least it starts getting annoying; Buck's curiosity is hard to tame when he believes he's discovered some kind of riddle. While it’s certainly exciting to see that there still are some things about Tommy that remain mysterious to him, his house shouldn't be on the top list of sweet secrets he holds. 

“I’m getting a vibe that you don't want me there, Tommy.”

“It's not like that.”

“Then what is it? Do you have any porn magazines lying around? Don't you want me to see your underwear drawer?”

“Evan...”

“Are there pictures of your ex-boyfriends on the walls?” Now Buck is on a roll. “Do you collect tasteless art? Is your house just too small for two people to be comfortable?”

“Evan,” Tommy groans. Wide-eyed, Buck glares at him, until Tommy finally exhales loudly and adds, “Yeah, it's too small. You're not going to give it a rest, are you?“

“My therapist says I should talk about my feelings. And there's no one I'd rather do that with than you, Tommy, and right now... well. Honestly, it's driving me crazy.”

“All right,” goes Tommy, getting up and taking his hand, ”there's no point in delaying it any longer anyway. Come with me. We're going to my place – but whether you want to sleep there remains to be seen.”

That, of course, was an even more mysterious answer, but Buck jumps to his feet immediately.

From the outside, Tommy's house looked neither particularly small nor large. The most remarkable thing about the single-storey, flat-roofed building was probably that it stood in the middle of a terraced housing estate in the suburbs. It wasn't an area Buck would have associated with Tommy, and there was probably a story behind it that he was eager to hear one day. 

Inside, it was just as unremarkable. This was the house of a single man who often did 24-hours-shifts and also had very excessive hobbies that made him leave the house quite often. In other words, a comparatively interchangeable place. Eddie hadn't mentioned anything about that either, he'd probably been blinded by the flights to Vegas and the garage. There were no photos of ex-boyfriends on the walls, no obvious porn movies in the impressive DVD collection, no tasteless art; there weren't even any potted plants, “I just don't have a green thumb,” says Tommy. 

“I don't understand why you didn't already show me your house,” Buck says, a little disappointed that he still couldn't solve the puzzle.

“Hm,” Tommy utters, and it sounds almost apologetic. He wraps his arms around Buck and adds, “You're here now.”

„Yes, and I forgot a change of clothes. You’re gonna have to lend me some tomorrow.“

“You're really determined to spend the night here?”

“You bet,” Buck says, his eyes roaming the room, ”show me your bedroom and I'll show you how determined I am.”

“Then get ready for a cold shower,” Tommy returns, taking Buck's hand and leading him further into his house. 

The door opened to another plain, rather functionally furnished room with a built-in wardrobe, a second door that probably led to the bathroom, a large window without any curtains and virtually no accessories. Then Buck’s gaze falls on the bed, and his jaw drops.

“Well, I told you it was small...”

“I thought you meant your house.”

It was the bed. A narrow, single bed. It wasn't an unusual place to sleep, of course; millions of bedrooms were furnished like this. Buck just couldn't understand why anyone would voluntarily give up the comfort of a kingsize when they were tall and beefy like his adorable boyfriend with the very embarrassed look on his face. 

“W-wait a minute. Is that why we always spent the night at my place? Because you’re sleeping in... this crib?”

“Hey, I like this bed,” Tommy replies, grimacing. “It's just not a good place for two. Hold on, what were you thinking, Evan?“

“Well, for a while I thought you just liked my shower...”

“... it's an excellent shower, I must say.”

"Well, to be honest, I thought it’s not that important to you."

Tommy looks intently at his face, shaking his head. 

“Did you seriously think you weren't important enough for me? I thought we had clarified that point by now. And for once, I'm not talking about the excellent sex, honey.“

"Which would be … not that comfortable in that bed," Buck says when the penny finally drops. “Adorable, Tommy. As if the kitchen table wasn't enough for us.”

“But would you want to sleep on it?”

“Good point,” Buck mutters. “We really can't both fit in the bed.”

“Gonna be tough. And… actually, I really prefer your shower.“

“I'll probably have to talk to the landlord about the water consumption.”

"Well, we don’t need to move together so soon," Tommy argues. “But you could help me buy a bigger bed, how about that?”

“Excellent,” says Buck. “But we have to be sure it’s too small for the things I’d love to do with you.”

He pushes the surprised Tommy onto the bed with a casual nudge.

“Fine,” Tommy replies with a grin before closing Buck's mouth with a kiss, ”but we're sleeping at your place tonight.”

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Thank you for the adorable prompt, @herrmannhalsteadproduction. I'm gonna need to skip the Tarlos one because I'm running out of spare time, but this was fun 😂❤️

[loucifersbitch]

☕️☕️☕️☕️ ☕️☕️☕️☕️ ☕️☕️☕️☕️ ☕️☕️☕️☕️ ☕️☕️☕️☕️

Let the Eddie Meddling commence!!!!!

full disclosure, i have no idea how many sentences this is because i kept losing count 🤡 enjoy

"I don't know if I can do this."

"You can, and you will. You're not leaving until you explain what the hell is wrong with you."

"All right, well, that's a little unnecessary."

"No, it's not," Eddie said, pulling into his parking spot.

Tommy sighed. He couldn't help but agree, if he was being honest.

They walked in through the front door, and Tommy was greeted with the sight of empty beer and liquor bottles strewn across the coffee table and floor. On the couch was Evan, spread out gracelessly in his sleep, clothes askew, a too-small blanket hanging partially off one leg.

"I have some laundry to fold," Eddie murmured. "I'll be in the bedroom if you guys need me." He grabbed his sandwich out of the bag from the cafe and headed down the hallway.

Tommy listened for the bedroom door to close before moving, heading into the kitchen to get plates and silverware. He put Evan's eggs, sausage, breakfast potatoes, and scone on one plate and then set his own omelet and hash browns on the other before placing both plates and the coffees on a tray to carry into the living room.

He cleared a few of the bottles from the coffee table so he could set down the tray, and Evan stirred on the couch.

"Fuck," Evan groaned, burying his face in the couch cushion. "Who turned on the damn sun?"

"Wasn't me," Tommy said quietly, trying to be mindful of the headache Evan most likely had. He went to the window to close the blinds. "I told it to stay down this morning."

"T-Tommy?" Evan jolted, turning and squinting at him. "What are you doing here?"

Tommy sighed.

"I wanted to apologize for - for how I ended things last night. I'm sorry if I hurt you."

"Oh, god." Evan ran a hand over his face, digging his thumb and index finger into his eyes briefly. "I need coffee if we're going to have this conversation right now."

"Here," Tommy said, offering Evan the coffee.

Evan looked at the cup a little dubiously but took a sip nonetheless.

"Mm," he hummed, his eyes closing. "Betty?"

"Of course. She and Randy say hi."

"Ah."

"She also told me to take care of you." When Evan cracked an eye open, Tommy pushed the plate of food toward him. "And she gave you a free scone."

"That'll fix a broken heart," he said sarcastically, pulling the plate toward himself.

"Buck -"

"Don't," Evan spat. "You want to apologize? Don't call me that."

Tommy looked down, steeling himself.

"I'm so sorry, Evan. Hurting you was never my intention. I'll never forgive myself."

Evan was quiet for a moment, taking a bite of something from his plate. Tommy couldn't make himself look him in the eye. Evan would be well within his rights to hate Tommy forever.

Wiping off his hands, Evan finally asked, "Why did you do it? I thought we were good. Solid. I thought -" he cleared his throat, voice going quieter. "But I guess I was wrong."

Finally Tommy looked up.

"No, Evan. You're right, we were solid. I - I got scared. You started talking about the future and moving in together and getting married, and it scared me."

"I'm sorry I scared you, Tommy. I didn't mean -"

"No, no, it's not - listen." He wiped a hand over his mouth, emotion starting to prick at the backs of his eyes. "I'm not scared of you, Evan. I've never been more sure of anyone in my life. I just don't know if you realize what you're asking for."