#when Maddie says ‘thank you for warmth’

[wikiangela]

look ahead up the road, you know I'll see you there (a rockin' chair, little gray in your hair)

written for @bucktommywinterfest

prompt: January 26-February 1: different era (80s, 90s, etc.) and/or painted nails/Uncle Tommy rated: G word count: 2.6k

[read on Ao3]

He walks into Tommy’s- well, now their living room and leans against the doorframe, taking a second to take in the scene in front of him before he disturbs them. Because what he sees is the most adorable sight ever. Tommy is sitting on the floor, both hands splayed flat on top of the coffee table, while Jee is very focused on painting his nails, tongue out and frowning and all. She got a whole set of kid-friendly nail polish for Christmas and apparently she’s taking it everywhere she goes now, including Tommy’s house when they’re babysitting her so that Maddie and Chim can have the whole day and night to themselves – and so she can spend some time with her uncles, of course. “Wow, that’s really good,” he hears Tommy say as Jee finishes a nail. Buck can’t see it that well from afar, but it does seem to at least cover mostly the nail and not the whole finger. “You did a great job.” “Thanks, uncle Tommy.” Jee grins, and then sets out to work on another nail. Warmth spreads in Buck’s heart.

[read on Ao3]

[abraxosdreams]

all of this

I know we already talked about this a lot (like, a lot) but I just have a little more to say about the jail scene. Mostly because of all the "Vi didn't care about Jinx" and all the "in the middle of a war, they're having sex"

Sort way to say it, using Vi's words: just shut the fuck up.

Using my own words, first of all, Vi didn't know what's Jinx gonna do. As far as she knew, Jinx could have been run away without her, being plotting a new attack against Piltover, or reunited with Sevika. All Vi knew was that she went to rescue her little sister, and that sister punched her (in the same spot Cait did, seriusly, people should stop hitting her there), and left her alone in a cell.

She went behind the back of the woman she loves just to save Jinx of being executed or imprisioned for life. And after that (in her own eyes) betrayal to Cait, Jinx left without her.

And then, Caitlyn is there, and Vi thought she's gonna hate her, for choosing Jinx again, even when Jinx didn't want to be chosen. Vi thought she'd lost, not only her sister, also Caitlyn after all. Just look at her.

But no. Cait is there to say, that she knew, she knew Vi would do this, and that's ok. It's just how Vi is. After all, the Vi who freed Jinx, is the same Vi who became an enforcer for Caitlyn. Vi just can't let the people she loves suffer, if she can do something about it. Cait needed that support and Jinx needed to be free. Both time ended with Vi being punched and let behind. But this time, Caitlyn is there to ease that guilt and pain. She knew Vi was gonna do this, and she helped, because she loves and accept Vi, even when she doesn't understand her.

And no, you can't tell that's was just a Cait's plan to fuck Vi. She did that because she loves her, and didn't expect nothing in return. Just look at her face when she's telling Vi she knew, and a few seconds later, when she stops to tell Vi about her rebound (not so predictable after all, right Cait?), totally different expresions.

And of course Vi kissed her, for the fisrt time in her life, somebody is there just for her, somebody came to support her, not in the other way. So it was pure instinct, visceral, raw feeling. Vi fucking loves her, and Cait just did something no one did for her before. Be there, understand her. How could she not kiss her? Not let herself go in the feeling?

And yes, there's a war, they may die, why wait? They been longing this for so long, and now, both need to feel eacht other, to touch eacht other, to love and hold eacht other. Again, raw emotion.

And I also read some people saying Cait is looking at Vi like a womanizer, Am I the only one seeing just tender in her eyes? Love? Like "this is the woman I love and I would never change her again for nothing" She's looking at Vi with such love.

Sorry for rambling, I don't really have anyone to talk to about Arcane 😬

[30somethingautisticteacher]

Buck's favorite words

Just a little idea I couldn't get out of my head so enjoy this ficlet 🙂

***

Buck isn't sure why he likes the word so much, but every time he says it, it's like sugar on his tongue. It makes him feel warm and fuzzy and like everything is right with the world.

"Sorry, I'm flattered but I'm seeing someone," Buck says to the pretty girl he's just evacuated from a 3-alarm blaze. His voice is kind but firm, a far cry from the Buck of old who might have preened at the attention.

"Oh come on, handsome hero man. Give me your number," she purrs, reaching out to touch his arm.

Her relentlessness gives Buck a little push, and he finds himself using the word for the first time in public. It rolls off his tongue easily, filling him with a quiet pride.

"Sorry, but like I said, I'm taken," he says, gently stepping back. Then, with a smile that's both apologetic and genuinely happy, he adds, "I have a boyfriend."

The word 'boyfriend' sits in the air between them, and Buck feels a warmth spread through his chest.

From then on, he finds himself saying it as often as he can, each time feeling that same warmth, that same quiet joy.

At the flower shop, where he's picking out a bouquet for his and Tommy's dinner date, the florist asks, "Do you need help picking something out for your girlfriend?"

"Boyfriend, actually," Buck replies with an easy smile. "And I'm good, thanks."

At the coffee shop, he leans on the counter, eyes scanning the pastry case. "Do you have any cranberry orange scones? My boyfriend loves them," Buck asks the barista warmly.

Later, at the bar waiting for Tommy, a pretty girl sends a drink over. Buck catches her eye, raises the glass in thanks, and then gently shakes his head. When she approaches, he's ready with a now-familiar phrase: "I'm flattered, but I have a boyfriend."

Each time he says it, 'boyfriend' feels more natural, more right. It's not just a word anymore—it's a declaration of who he is, who they are together. And Buck finds he loves that feeling almost as much as he loves Tommy.

There's nothing better than the word boyfriend. That is, until a new word takes its place.

At a restaurant, the waiter approaches with menus in hand. "Would you like to order an appetizer while you wait?"

Buck's eyes light up, a grin spreading across his face. "No thanks, my fiancé should be here soon." The word 'fiancé' rolls off his tongue like honey, sweet and perfect.

On a work call to a new gym, Buck finds himself pacing with excitement. "Wow! This place is nice. Do you have a free trial? I bet my fiancé would love to try it out." He can't help but emphasize the word, feeling a thrill every time he says it.

Later, meeting with the wedding caterers, Tommy sits right next to him, their hands intertwined. Buck squeezes Tommy's hand as he says, "No, we definitely don't want German chocolate cake. My fiancé is allergic to coconut." He glances at Tommy, catching his soft smile at the word.

With each use, 'fiancé' becomes more than just a title. It's a promise, a future, a declaration of forever. And Buck realizes that while 'boyfriend' was wonderful, 'fiancé' is magical—a constant reminder of the commitment they've made and the life they're building together.

But the magic of 'fiancé' only lasts for so long before it's also replaced with something even more profound.

At the hospital, Buck's heart races as he approaches the reception desk. "Hi, I'm Evan Kinard. I just got a call that my husband was here." The word 'husband' feels both new and familiar on his lips.

The receptionist nods reassuringly. "Oh sure, it looks like your husband has just been discharged. Just smoke inhalation and a minor concussion."

Later, at Maddie's place, Buck finds himself chuckling as Chimney and Tommy argue about movies. He turns to his sister with a grin. "I don't know whose husband is more stubborn, yours or mine."

At the 118's karaoke night, Buck takes the stage, his eyes locked on Tommy. "I'd like to dedicate this song to my husband," he announces, his voice full of love. As the opening notes of "I Can't Help Falling in Love With You" begin to play, Buck starts to sing, his voice soft and sincere. Tommy's face flushes with a mix of embarrassment and deep affection as Buck serenades him in front of their friends and colleagues.

Each time Buck says 'husband', he feels a surge of pride and love. It's more than just a word—it's a testament to their journey, their commitment, and the life they've chosen to share. And Buck knows, without a doubt, that 'husband' is his favorite word yet.

[beefcakekinard]

thank you sarah @aringofsalt for the idea & beta 🥰

Buck is so fixated on the two glasses brimming with eggnog in his hands that he almost trips right over his mom's feet when he reaches the couch.

He yells out a sound that does some awful things to his dignity, catches his footing at the last possible moment, and manages not to spill a drop. His mom laughs and tucks her feet in close, leaving room between her legs and the coffee table for Buck to get through.

Buck hands over her glass and takes an indignant sip from his own. "You're getting the next round," he says, and slings his arm along the back of the couch behind her.

His thoughts swim pleasantly, the lights on the Christmas tree blurring together. His mom is warm beside him, his dad is helping Maddie and Chim with bedtime for Jee and the baby, and Tommy quietly moves around the room, collecting dishes. Like he can read Buck's mind, Tommy heads his way.

"You two all good?" he asks, gaze flicking between Buck and his mom. "Need a refill? Snacks?"

"Thank you, Tommy, I’m fine, dear," Mom says.

Buck looks dreamily up at his man. "Yeah I'm all good, thanks, baby." Tommy's answering smile warms something deep inside Buck’s stomach, radiating heat up his chest and out his throat.

As Tommy turns and walks away, Buck's eyes drop down to his ass and stick there until he turns the corner, out of sight.

"He is quite shapely."

Buck chokes on his sip of eggnog and coughs wetly as it rockets up and out his nose. "Mom!!" he yells, cupping his face so he doesn't drip everywhere as he scrambles to grab a tissue from the coffee table.

Margaret waves her hand dismissively. "What, I'm not supposed to have eyes?" she says. Buck can feel his face burning like the yule log on the TV screen. It occurs to him, for a moment, that his brain might be trying to fry itself from the inside out.

"What are we talking about?" Maddie asks, appearing at Buck's side. Buck slams his glass on the coffee table, winces at his sister's I-just-put-a-baby-down-and-I-will-KILL-you glare, and raises his hands.

"Our mother," he whisper-shouts as he points behind himself, "is ogling my boyfriend!" He gestures wildly as he talks; Maddie bats his hand away when it swings too close.

She looks at him like he's slow. "If you don't want us to look, don't bring such a hunk home," she says. Like it's obvious or something.

Buck gasps indignantly as his mother smacks the backs of her fingers into his arm and says, "Exactly!"

One, two years ago, never mind three or four, you never would have gotten Buck to believe that he'd have this: Christmas dinner in his belly, boyfriend at his side, surrounded by family, none of them would have seemed plausible. He feels like he's glowing, like the warmth in the centre of him is incandescent, his happiness on display.

Maddie stops laughing at him for just a moment, just long enough to say, "Like, as if I'm not going to watch when he's walking away!" Her and Margaret's laughter doubles. Buck can feel his blush in his ears.

"Whose ass are we talking about," Chim asks, coming up the hall, "Tommy's? It's pretty fantastic, isn't it?"

Buck buries his face in his hands. His skin is hot to the touch – his grin is so wide he can feel it in his palms. He gets this. He has this. And it's good.

[graciedollie]

Would you please do Maddie and Cailtyn (separate) hcs for reader flinching in an argument? Perhaps the reader is a naturally calm person when arguing even if the other person is going balistic. Thank you! (If you don't write for multiple characters please feel free to just choose 1)

Unexpected

☔︎︎ 𝐇𝐨𝐰’𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭☔︎︎

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫: 𝐂𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐲𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⋆˚࿔𝐂𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐲𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧⋆˚࿔

“Do you not understand the danger you could’ve been caught in?!” She was practically seething as she paced around back and forth in the office while you were settled on the couch—welcoming the warmth of the brewing fireplace .

She was quite upset at you—not even upset, she was pissed. There was a mission assigned and you gladly took it, thinking that you could easily have it handled and orthodox. Though, it wasn’t easily handled or orthodox, but thankfully, you and your crew didn’t really get hurt, only a couple graze and cuts . By some miracle, that was all.

You were used to her yelling and being pretty going all out when she was upset or frustrated with you or all the above, to be honest. It never really phased you or anything, being the natural calm person you are.

Of course here and there, you’d get upset and sometimes get upset with her with it either saying something you didn’t like or doing something you didn’t really like either. Even so, you weren’t much of a hothead or didn’t get upset to bad.

Though this time…it was a little different.

Like before, you were used to her yelling and going all out with her angry rants, but she would also pace around frequently and frail her arms out—trying to prove her point and get it in your thick skull.

Now, that didn’t really phase you either, but this time it just felt so different and you don’t know why. You listened to her intently as she scolded you about blah blah blah could’ve gotten yourself and blah blah blah it was a stupid choice.

You weren’t too bothered by her rambles or scolding, it was enduring and cute to see that she cared so much about you—even though she was practicing fuming.

“I can’t believe you made such a decision! Do you have any idea how…how pissed I am, Y/N!?”

That’s when she took a step forward as she pointed at you with her hand raising at you, making you flinch slightly. It made her pause mid rant, looking at you as if you were her entire world—which you were, no doubt about it.

It was weird…you never did this.

I mean, yeah, she would raise her hand and stuff with gestures, but it was nothing drastic. So why was this so different and odd—especially for Cait.

“I didn’t mean to…I..”

Her words felt stuck in her throat as her jaw clenched, though her eyes held a soft gaze as you both locked eyes—teleporting the high affection you both had for each other, though she was still mad at you about the situation earlier.

But that didn’t matter right now (it will be brought up later, trust).

“No, it’s fine…I just…It’s just been a long day, Cait.”

You didn’t want her to worry or anything, but you knew she couldn’t help to do that. It was just odd to flinch whenever she did, though she used her hands as gestures frequently. Nothing new.

It felt as the air became tense. Both of you not knowing what to say before you felt Caitlyn soft hand caressed your cheek—brushing the skin of your neck, bringing you close to her.

“You know I would never..”

“I know..”

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you saw the relief gleam in those royal blue eyes—the eyes that you always found yourself getting lost in every single time and you never wanted to find your way out.

⋆˚࿔𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧⋆˚࿔

“You don’t understand. I have to do this.” She was quite on edge as she had came back from Piltover from doing her ‘duties’, only just to make sure everything was in place for Ambessa’s placed plan.

But there were some problems. You were unsure about this whole thing, worrying that it would be figured out and the whole plan would blow to shit. Though, she was working for the infamous Noxus warlord, so maybe this couldn’t go so bad…

But you couldn’t help that gnawing feeling and you couldn’t hold back your strong opinions on the matter.

Which lead you here, arguing with her—mainly her doing the yelling and you doing your best to maintain your calm nature, but she was steadily tugging at that rope.

The two of you went back and forth, constantly bickering at each other. You felt that something bad was going too happen and she felt that nothing was going to happen. It was a futile argument, neither one of you backing down, but of course you wanted to put it to an end.

“All I’m saying is that I don’t trust this, Maddie. Do you even understand what situation you’re putting yourself in?”

Your voice was filled with worry and concern, only hoping that would get at least an inch to her thick skill, but you both knew that was useless.

Once Maddie stuck to something, there was no backing away from her choice. She loved you dearly, of course she did, but this was important to her. She didn’t want to let down her people nor did she want to let down the general.

God it was just tiring and frustrating to get her to listen most times as she was caught up in her own rambles. She couldn’t help, but glare at you and ball her fists up—creating crescent-like marks in her palm.

“You don’t understand. I have to do this. You know this is dear to me! I can handle this, no one will find out!”

Her voice was raising more and more as she stepped closer to you, staring at you with a scowl etched on her face deeply—making you miss that sweet, stupid smile on her face. With the way her voice raised, it caught you by surprise—making you flinch as you looked at her with disbelief and surprise.

That hit a nerve.

Maddie immediately quieted down with her angry rants, quickly coming to cup your cheek as she tilted your hand to make your eyes meet her apologetic gaze—rubbing the skin of your cheek with her gloved hand.

“Nononono, i’m sorry…I didn’t mean to, love. Please, i’m sorry—I-I was just upset…I didn’t mean to..”

Her words were coming in jumbled form and stutter, trying her hardest to not let her frazzled nerves get the best of her any further.

“No, it’s just…you don’t usually…get this upset.”

Seeing the way you looked at her hurt her in ways that she never imagine, quickly pulling you close to her as she rubbed your back in firm, but gentle circles.

“I’m sorry…i’ll make it up to you, yeah?”

Your eyes gazed into hers with glint of hurt, but you couldn’t help but love at how she cared so much about you—besides her getting a little overboard with the yelling.

You nodded as your hand gently caressed her cheek, rubbing over the skin of her cheek—feeling your heart flutter as that same stupid, sweet smirk tugged at her lips

hope you liked this <3 (idek if this sucked or not tbh)

[glorious-spoon]

finding excuses to be alone with each other - Buddie

hi, and thank you! sorry this has taken a while, and also i have no explanation for why i decided to write new year's eve fic in june. BUT: here you are!

a stolen moment

1200 words | buddie | developing relationship | secret relationship | kissing | fluff

-

There are too many people at this party.

Normally, this isn't something Buck would even think to complain about. Maddie and Chim are hosting, since Bobby and Athena are still living out of a tiny one-bedroom while work continues on their house, and Hen and Karen are still trying to get Mara settled back at home—New Year's parties are apparently not conducive to a quiet, predictable bedtime routine, and the Wilson family unit will probably be heading out well before the ball drops anyway—and nobody else has even close to enough room. It's still packed to the brim, overflowing onto the back patio, clusters of people chatting over drinks in the kitchen while the kids have taken over the living room TV for a vicious Mario Kart showdown that Chris is currently winning. Maddie's in the back bedroom putting Jee down for bedtime, and Chim is holding court over the dessert table, and it's all—great, honestly, it's great. It's awesome, having his family here, and happy, and together under the same roof after the year they've all had.

He glances up and meets Eddie's eye from across the dining room. Gets a quick smile in return. Eddie's cheeks are pink, maybe from the warmth, maybe from the two glasses of wine he's had, since Buck will be the one driving them home. He's wearing a green Henley that Buck knows is exactly as soft as it looks and worn-in jeans that mold lovingly to the lines of his thighs as he leans back against the door frame, and it's all pretty distressing, honestly. Buck's hands are itching to touch.

When he meets Eddie's eyes again, Eddie is grinning broadly. Caught, Buck ducks his head. He's blushing, he knows, and he doesn't have the excuse of the wine.

They're keeping it to themselves, at least for now. That was the decision they both made after Eddie kissed him in the loft two nights ago, after Buck kissed him back, after they didn't actually manage to make it all the way up to the bed and ended up on the couch instead, gasping into each other's mouths, fumbling and eager as teenagers. They're keeping it to themselves until Eddie figures out how he's going to tell Chris. He's skittish about that still, and Buck isn't going to push. So he'll probably be sleeping on the fold-out couch tonight instead of in Eddie's bed, and he's not going to kiss Eddie in the middle of the party, no matter how much he wants to.

It's okay. They have time.

"Hey, didn't someone bring dessert plates?" Chim calls from the kitchen. "Please tell me someone brought dessert plates, we're all out of the big ones and I'm really not up for doing dishes tonight."

Ah, shit. Right. That was Buck's job. He's pretty sure he did pick some up, actually, but they're probably still out in the Jeep, which is parked somewhere in the snarl of cars crowding the Han driveway and pulled off to the side of the street in front of their lawn.

"I got 'em," he calls, setting his soda down.

"My hero," Chim retorts, only half-teasing by his tone. Buck rolls his eyes and goes to find his shoes.

He doesn't realize that Eddie is following him until he's already slipped them on in the entry hall, a few steps away from the party. "What's up?"

Eddie shrugs, guileless, and crouches down to retrieve his shoes as well. "Figured I'd help you."

"You figured you'd help me…. bring in a package of paper plates?"

"Yeah," Eddie says innocently, but there's a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and god, Buck really wants to kiss him.

"Okay," he agrees instead, and pulls open the door. Eddie follows him out into the night, cool and dim even with Christmas lights still lit up all down the street. There's a dampness to the air that feels like rain; it's not that cold, but it's enough of a contrast to the warm house that a shiver goes through him. Eddie falls into step beside him, then reaches for his hand.

Buck shivers again, for reasons that have nothing to do with the cold this time. Eddie's hand is warm and broad, and he strokes his thumb lightly against Buck's, lighting up nerve endings he didn't even know he had.

It's such a small thing. But they've never actually done this yet. It all feels so new, sparkling like fireworks through his veins.

"Okay?" Eddie asks, and Buck realizes that he's stopped walking. 

"Yeah," he says. He's not doing a very good job of keeping the smile off his face, or out of his voice, but Eddie's got the exact same dopey smile on his face, so it's fine. They weave through the cars to where Buck's Jeep is parked, close enough to the street that they'll probably be able to get out without playing vehicle Tetris. Far enough from the house that they're shielded from view by Bobby's truck parked alongside them, so he's not all that surprised when Eddie lets go of his hand only to push him gently against the side of the Jeep and kiss him.

He gets lost in that for a little bit. The heat of Eddie's mouth, his hands moving from Buck's shoulders to cradle his jaw—he did that the first time, too. Held Buck like he's holding him now, like he's something precious and worth treating with care, and Buck's already hooked on it. He slides his hand up Eddie's back, feeling the warmth of him, to cup the back of his neck as Eddie licks into his mouth with leisurely sweetness, like he's got all the time in the world to kiss Buck just like this on the sidewalk on New Year's Eve.

Sooner or later, someone's going to come looking for them. It still takes a while for Buck to break the kiss, and when Eddie tugs lightly at his lower lip with his teeth before pulling away, he almost dives back in again. Almost.

"We should probably get back to the party," he says, very reluctantly.

"Yeah," Eddie sighs. He leans in and kisses Buck again, a sweeter, softer thing before leaning past him to open the door. Buck ducks into the back seat to retrieve the package of plates and the bottle of wine they forgot to bring in earlier, and when he straightens up, Eddie is watching him. He looks—hesitant, almost. Nervous. He looks the way he looked two days ago, right before he kissed Buck.

"What's up?" Buck asks.

"I want to tell Chris," Eddie says, all in a rush. "Maybe not—right now, at the party, but when we get home, I want to tell him. About us."

Buck takes a quick, sharp breath. "Are you sure?"

"I've never been as sure about anything in my life as I am about you."

"Eddie."

"It's the truth. And—I want him to know. Even if it's an adjustment, even if it takes some time to—I want him to know. I want everyone to know. If that's okay with you."

"Eddie," Buck says again, and then, "yeah, yeah of course it's okay."

"Good," Eddie says, with a sudden, brilliant smile. And well—Chim can wait a few more minutes for his paper plates. Buck sets them down and pulls Eddie back in.

[foxtrot91]

shovel talk

“So,” Maddie says, eyes squinting as she looks Tommy over, wine glass cradled in one hand while the other rests on her hip. 

They’re in the hallway of Bobby and Athena’s new place, and Tommy doesn’t think it’s a coincidence that she’s catching him in the bathroom hallway just as Tommy’s about to return to the party. Remembering another conversation at another party, he suddenly wishes he was holding a slice of cake; though he gets the feeling Maddie wouldn’t be easily deflected with it, Hen certainly wasn’t. 

“Are you looking for the bathroom?” He asks instead, tossing a glance behind him. “It’s right over there, second on the left.” 

He gives her his best grin; just because he knows this conversation is inevitable doesn’t mean he has to make it easy on her. Her eyebrows raise and Tommy thinks someone so small shouldn’t give him the same feeling as being dressed down by his sergeant once did. He hopes for Chim’s sake that he doesn’t find himself in the doghouse too often. 

“So,” she says again, ignoring his directions to the bathroom. “I was just thinking that we haven’t really had a chance to properly meet.”

“Oh,” Tommy says, still suspicious about where this conversation is going. “I guess we haven’t.”

It’s true, it’s only been a couple months since he and Evan got together and between their differing schedules and the drama going on behind the scenes at the 118, there hadn’t been much time for larger get togethers. For the most part, Tommy and Evan have either spent their time just the two of them or hanging out with Eddie in an effort to keep his mind off of Christopher’s departure. Which, thank god that has since been resolved, for awhile there Eddie had been a bit of a basket case. There had been the wedding, of course, but even a normal wedding doesn’t leave time for the bride and groom to spend much time with individual guests, and there’s had been anything but normal. 

“You know, Buck was really nervous when he told me about you,” she says, eyes glittering as she looks him over before taking a sip of her wine. 

“Coming out to someone you care about will do that to a person,” Tommy says simply, eyebrow raised. 

“Of course,” she says with a soft chuckle before continuing, “it made me realize that he’s never told me about any of his other relationships before.” 

“Oh?”

“I mean, I knew they existed and I knew their names, but he never once talked about them, I barely even knew a thing about Ali. Even Taylor, she was his longest relationship and I barely heard a word about her. Then there’s Natalia who was barely a blip.” She pauses here and takes another sip from her wine before shifting her gaze back to Tommy. “Actually, there was one person I heard a lot about, even if I never got the chance to meet her.” 

“Abby,” Tommy says, figuring with what he knows of Evan’s relationship history that she’s a safe bet. 

“Mmhm,” she hums, nodding in agreement. “But since that first day he told me about you, you’re all he talks about now.” 

Tommy feels warmth bloom in his chest at that admission, the thought of Evan feeling happy and secure enough in their - admittedly young - relationship to talk about it with others leaves him feeling pleased. 

“It kind of reminds me of how he was with Abby, actually,” she continues, “before he’d accepted that she was gone I got to hear all about her, almost felt like I knew her.” There’s a bit of a wistful edge to her voice, though Tommy can tell it’s less about Abby and more about Evan's happiness. “He hasn’t been that way with anyone since, at not least until now. So I guess you could say that as his big sister I thought I'd better check to make sure that he’s not going to wake up one day and find you’ve suddenly discovered a burning desire to – I don’t know, Amelia Earhart your way around the world and leave him behind.” 

Her voice grows firmer on that last bit as she pins Tommy with her gaze, eyebrow raised. Despite the teasing edge still present in her voice, Tommy can tell she’s serious, and truthfully, he can’t say he blames her. Eddie once told him over a shared six-pack that Evan has abandonment issues the size of the moon, and everything he’s learned about his past relationships - both romantic and familial - supports that. If Evan has avoided talking about past girlfriends, Tommy wonders if it had anything to do with a fear that they’d leave him behind too. He wonders what that says about the fact that he apparently talks about Tommy with those closest to him.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, Amelia Earhart's disappearance is a pretty strong deterrent for that. Also— can’t do Muay Thai in the sky,” he says, unable to resist responding with his own personal brand of humour. Maddie doesn’t respond during the pause he takes to gather his thoughts, her face giving nothing away. “But... the truth is, that I can’t tell you the future, I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, let alone six months from now.” He pauses, suddenly wishing he had his own glass of wine to occupy his hands as he contemplates his next words. “What I can tell you is that I didn’t step into this lightly, and that I care about him a lot.” He takes a moment to let the truth of that sink in before adding, “and for what it’s worth, if you talked to any of my friends, I’m pretty sure they’d tell you the same thing, which is that I talk about Evan so much that they’re probably sick of hearing about him now.” It's true, Sal barely manages to repress the eyeroll whenever Evan's name comes up, and Angela and Jenkins have started a drinking game during Trivia Night based on how often Tommy says his name. It's made them terrible at trivia. 

The beat of silence that passes between he and Maddie isn't exactly uncomfortable, but he does find himself holding his breath a little wondering if he passed. He has the idle thought that she’d be good at poker with how little she’s giving away with her facial expression. But then, a smile stretches over her face, and Tommy finds himself sighing in relief. This was different than his talk with Hen and Karen that had obviously been more teasing in nature. While Maddie may have done a good job in keeping her tone overall light, Tommy’s under no delusions that she wasn’t serious in sizing Tommy up to determine if he was fit to date her brother.

“Good,” she says simply, and then tilts her head slightly towards the kitchen. “I need a top-up, and you seem like you could use a glass, have a drink with me?”

“Absolutely,” Tommy agrees, his own grin stretching across his face.

He follows Maddie into the kitchen where she grabs a second glass for him before pulling out the wine she and Chim brought – a merlot – and pouring him a glass before topping off her own.

“So, you’re a pilot,” she says, a statement, not a question.

“I am.”

“Could be handy having a pilot in the family,” she comments, eyes twinkling, “Chim said you flew Eddie to Vegas.”

It's said nonchalantly, with a hint of expectation but before he can respond, Evan’s rounding the corner, clearly having heard at least part of their conversation. “Oh no,” he groans, “you do not get to commandeer my pilot boyfriend so that you and Chim can have some private date weekend in Vegas.”

“I said no such thing,” Maddie claims, hands raised, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.

“But you thought it,” Evan says accusingly.

Tommy watches them, barely suppressing his own laughter as he grabs a potato-chip from a nearby bowl to munch on. He lets them go back and forth, trading verbal jabs in the way all siblings do before he takes his moment to jump in.

“I’d be happy to fly your sister to Vegas,” Tommy says, grinning at Evan’s indignant look and Maddie’s triumphant one.

“Thank you,” she says, voice overly sweet as she pats Tommy on the hand before picking up her glass. She starts towards the door, presumably to rejoin the others, but he doesn’t miss it when she leans in and whispers to Evan, “he’s a keeper,” before smacking a kiss to his cheek as she heads out the door. Evan’s face softens at Maddie’s approval, and Tommy’s does too.

Evan joins him at the table, cheeks pink as he swipes Tommy’s glass to steal a sip.

“You disappeared on me,” he says, looking up at Tommy. “How bad was it? She give you the third degree?”

“It wasn’t bad at all,” Tommy says honestly, “I like that you have people who care.”

“Hm,” is all he says, though Tommy can tell he’s at least a little pleased by it too. “Still, we need to have a talk about how you’re supposed to take my side in arguments with my sister,” he adds, semi-serious.

Laughing, Tommy stands from his seat and comes around the table, offering Evan his hand before pulling him back towards the door. “Evan, the only useful relationship advice my dad ever gave me was to ‘get in good with the family.’” He adds air-quotes and deepens his voice for effect. “Of course, he thought my relationships would look a lot different, but the advice is still solid,” he says, before adding, “besides, I like your sister, and flying Maddie and Chim to Vegas for a weekend would also mean flying you and I there.”

Evan perks up at that, “yeah?”

“Separate hotel rooms, of course,” Tommy adds, letting his smile take on a suggestive edge as they open the door to the balcony.

“Separate hotels,” Evan says, his own lascivious smile spreading across his face.

Whatever their faces are doing as they join the others must make it obvious what they’re both thinking about because the next thing he hears is Chim saying; “Mm, I don’t like that look, too reminiscent of Buck 1.0. Does anyone have a spray bottle? Gotta squirt him like an overgrown tomcat before he gets outta control.”

Tommy lets the subsequent laughter at Evan’s indignant squawk envelop him, somewhere in the background he hears Christopher question what Buck 1.0 means and Eddie insisting he doesn’t want to know. Tommy finds he’s enjoying himself, even if the laughter is at their expense. He wasn’t lying to Evan when he’d told him before that he’d been jealous of the family the 118 had become but for once, Tommy isn’t jealous. He doesn’t need to be, because this time he’s a part of it.

Read on ao3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your dad sits in the worn-out recliner, silent as the radio buzzes on an AM station. Your mother places a glass of water next to him but he doesn't acknowledge her. You've never seen him like this. Your dad's always been lively, often talking back to the radio. But now, he's like a shell, just staring.

"The rehab nurse will come tomorrow," your mom nears, "he just needs some rest for now."

You nod and back out of the room, a grim coldness in the air despite the warmth of spring flowing in from open windows. You enter the kitchen as your mother trails after you. Without a word, she flips on the burner beneath the blackened silver kettle. You lean on the square island and trace a finger around a ring in the wood.

"Do they know how it happened?" You ask.

"A clot. They say... things like that are hard to catch," she sniffs, "but it doesn't matter now. All that matters is he's home and alive and... he's going to get better."

"I'm sorry, ma," you frown.

You cup your chin and glance over at the door. When you looked in your father's eyes, it was as if he didn't know you. He just smiled weakly then went back to staring. What happened to man who used to jump down from his tractor to the dismay of his wife?

"We'll have to figure out what to do about the planting," your mother hums and chews her thumb. She pulls her hand away and stretches out her fingers, "Timothy's done a lot but... we'll never catch up at this pace."

"I can help," you offer, "ma, we'll make it work."

"No, I need you in here," she counters, "I'll be taking care of your dad. The hospital gave me all these pamphlets; exercises and all that..." she blows out a heavy breath and flattens her palm to her forehead, "how am I going to do all this?"

"Ma, we'll all help," you offer, "it's okay. We'll be okay. Dad will be okay."

You come around the counter and offer a hug. She latches onto you and rocks you in place. As she holds you, a rumble underlines the chatter on the radio humming from the front room.

You part and look over at the open archway to the hallway. You glance at your mother and give a nod. Visitors already.

You go down to the entry way, wondering where Timothy went. He was just out on the porch fiddling with some car part or another. You open the door and lean back on a heel as Walter greets you with a nod.

"Hey, hope I'm not... imposing."

"Um, dad just got home. He's..." you peek over at the front room, "resting."

"Of course, I figured, I just wanted to drop this off," he holds up the basket in his right hand, "had some extra stuff in my pantry."

"Oh, Mr. Marshall," you accept the basket, "thank you. You didn't have to--"

"Walt," he corrects.

"Walter," your mother's voice carries through the hall as she pads up softly, "oh, Walter, how kind."

She looks at the basket as you grasp the handle and Walter lets it go, the weight nearly bowling you over. You do your best to keep it above ground level.

"Heavy," he warns too late.

"Please, come in," your mother beckons.

"I wouldn't want to disturb him," Walter puts his head down, almost meekly. "Just wanted to bring some stuff."

"No, no, please, I just put the kettle on."

"Uh, alright," he accepts reticently. "Thanks, Maddie."

"Not at all," she assures and turns to sweep back down the hall.

He steps in and bends to untie his stained tan boots. He leaves them on the mat and faces you. You give an awkward smile and take stunted steps with the weighty basket.

"Here," he swipes it back as he catches up to you, "don't hurt yourself."

You let him have it. Your arm hurts. He follows you into the kitchen and places the basket on the island as you round to the other side.

"Black tea?" Your mother offers.

"Sure," he stands sternly, arms straight, stance wide.

She takes down three cups as you languish in radio's buzz. You never said much more than a few words to Walter. Walt. He never says too much either, he was always just a sounding board for your father's yammering.

"God!" The back door swings open and hits the wall, causing you and your mother to yelp as Walter merely looks over dully. Your brother clamours in and skids to a halt.

"Timmy, the floor," your mother reproaches.

"Dang it, sorry ma," he huffs, "I just... the tractor's smoking."

"What?" You and your mother stammer in unison.

"Yeah, black shit all out the exhaust."

"I'll have a look," Walter offers.

"Oh, hey, Walter," Timothy grins dumbly.

"You're so kind, Walter, but we can get Vol down here--"Don't bother with the bill," Walter shrugs off, "I'll get my boots."

Your mother sighs and you shake your head at Timothy. She might just be right. There's no way the three of you can get the spring planting done, especially if he's going to treat the tractor like one of his dinky cars he played with as a kid.

[bucked-it-up]

When Tommy got his first big injury while with Evan, he wasn't really expecting anything to be different to the other times he had been hurt while on duty. He would stay in the hospital for the least amount of time possible, go home and look after himself until he could go back to work. There was no reason for it to be any different now but like with a lot of things after Evan, everything was different.

Evan was everywhere, he was there at the hospital making sure Tommy rested, that he ate, that he was comfortable. People also visited him, that was new, he saw Howie, Hen, Bobby, all bringing light to something that was normally dark and lonely. Evan even got him to stay at the hospital for an extra day, citing that while he understood the need to leave, Evan needed him to stay longer for peace of mind. Tommy couldn't say no to that, but he was planning to use the same tactic on Evan when he was next injured.

Evan took him home, staying and cooking, cleaning, helping him as much as he could. He took time off work, that surprised Tommy, he never imagined someone would time off work for him especially when he knew that Evan loved his job and barely took time off for himself. When Evan wasn't at his house often Maddie or Karen would come by, keeping him company, keeping light in his heart. Tommy couldn't remember a time where he felt this okay while injured, this surrounded by love.

It was the night before they both went back to work after Tommy got injured. They were wrapped around each other in bed, lights dim, room quiet. Tommy could feel the slow breaths from Evan, he could see the softness on his face.

"Thank you." Tommy softly spoke into the quiet of the room.

"What for?" Evan sounded slightly confused.

"For everything." Tommy replied unsure how to truly get his feelings across to Evan. "For the past few weeks. I've never not felt lonely while hurt and you changed that. These past few weeks have made me so grateful for you, for meeting you."

Evan turned slightly looking Tommy in the face, a puzzled expression clear on his features "I just did what anyone should."

"Not everyone has someone who will do that for them." Tommy's eyes closed thinking back to when he wished he had someone there for him. He felt a kiss on his shoulder and opened his eyes, looking back into Evans. "I love you, Evan."

Evan smiled, eyes lighting up, he reached up and kissed Tommy. A light press. "I love you too, Tommy."

They settled down for the night warmth in both of their hearts, smiles on their faces, wrapped around the one they loved.

[cosyvelvetorchid]

Ok, here comes one word promt for bucktommy

Fake-dating

This was a cute one to write. Thank you 🩶

***

Hen and Chim and recently gotten back in contact with an old member of the 118, Tommy, and wanted to get everyone together for night at the bar.

It was a fun night. Maddie and Chim had left earlier to pick up Jee, but Hen and Karen were still showing up everyone on the dance floor, leaving Eddie and Buck at the table with Tommy.

Buck couldn’t get over just how fucking cool this guy was. He flew helicopters in the army, now helicopters and planes for the LAFD. He did Muay Thai, apparently had a car lift and mechanics pit in his garage.. He was a man.

He had tonnes in common with Eddie, too and Buck couldn’t help feel a ping of jealousy. Tommy had far more in common with Eddie than he ever did.

Tommy had been at the bar getting them drinks and talking to someone but pointing to their table. Buck instinctively waved back and immediately felt like an idiot. Tommy walked back to the table a little quickly and placed the drinks down.

“Okay this is going to sound weird I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

“What do I get out of it?” Eddie asked.

“Uh, nothing because I was talking to Evan.” Buck felt an odd sensation in his stomach.

“Uh, me?” He said, eyebrows up.

“Him”? Eddie question.

“Yeah, he’s more my type.” He said and Buck didn’t know how to feel about that.

“Well I feel deeply rejected.” Eddie joked. Tommy rolled his eyes.

“I’ll explain everything later, but that guy at the bar is my ex, and he won’t leave me alone. So I said I was with someone and he asked who, and I panicked and I said you, thinking he’d leave me alone. But I was wrong and he wants to meet you and I’m sorry and I’ll pay for all your drinks the rest of the night if you pretend for the next few minutes.” He looked at Buck with pleading eyes. Somehow Buck couldn’t say no to them.

“Uh, sure.” He said. Tommys face morphed into a smile, with deep lines framing his eyes and Buck couldn’t help smiling back as they held eye contact.

“That guy is coming over.” Eddie informed them. Tommy took a seat next to Buck only a bit closer than before. He slid an arm behind him resting it against the top of the booth seat.

He was a few inches shorter than Tommy, with hair similar colour to Bucks but much shorter. He was built similarly to Buck too.

The man took a seat from a nearby table and placed at the end of theirs sitting down.

“Are you going to introduce us, T?’

“Shane, this is Evan.”

“Buck, everyone calls me Buck.” He said reaching forward and o shake Shane’s hand. When he sat back he could feel the warmth of Tommys arm on the back of his neck. A strange flush came through him.

“Oh and this is Eddie.”

“Hey, man.” Eddie shook his hand also.

Shane looked between Buck and Tommy. “So, how long have you been together?”

“6 months.” Tommy replied effortlessly.

“So not very long then.” Shane said in a hopeful tone.

“True, but when you know you know. Right babe?” He looked at Buck.

“Uh, yeah.” Buck agreed looking at Tommy. Tommy smiled at him and again Buck couldn’t help but smile back. There was something in the way that Tommy smiled that he couldn’t put his finger on .

“They’re honestly adorable.” Eddie chimed in “Can’t get enough of each other.” Buck saw the grin and amused look on Eddie’s face. He was clearly enjoying this.

The music changed from upbeat to slow and couples began moving closer to one another on the dance floor.

“Hey don’t you guys love this song?” Eddie said. “You should totally dance to it.” Buck threw Eddie a look but he just grinned in response.

“We’re enjoying our drinks for now.” Tommy replied.

“Oh I can keep an eye on those. Don’t worry.” Eddie said back.

“What’s the matter?” Shane asked. “You love to dance. I remember you-“

“Absolutely.” Tommy interrupted. “We’d love to dance. Wouldn’t we Evan?” He looked at him and tapped his foot against his under the table hoping that he would agree.

“Uh, sure. Yeah.” Tommy left the booth, followed by Buck and walked over to where other couples were dancing. Buck looked back at Eddie who was still grinning widely. Son of bitch was loving every moment of it.

Buck stood in front of Tommy awkwardly. All the other people dancing had their arms around each other and he had no clue what to do.

“You’ve never danced with a man before have you?” Tommy asked sensing his awkwardness

“Is it that obvious?” He replied.

“Luckily for you I’m an aficionado. Here..” he took Bucks arms and put them around his shoulders then put his own around Bucks waist. “Is this okay?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Listen, Evan, I know I asked for your help but really if you’re uncomfortable we can stop.” Tommy told him. His expression was open and gentle and Buck knew that he meant what he said.

“It’s fine. Really.” He said and they began to sway slowly.

“Thank you, by the way. You’re really saving my ass.”

“What’s the deal with him? Was it a bad break up?” Buck asked.

“He wasn’t a bad boyfriend, just.. kind of obsessed with me.” He said.

“Isn’t it a good thing to be obsessed with your significant other?” Buck asked.

“There’s a limit. He wanted to be with me all the time. And I mean all the time. Got to the point I couldn’t use the bathroom without him knocking on the door to talk to me.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. I love spending time with the person I’m with but I do like time to spend with my friends or just myself. In the end I had to break it off and as you can see he still hasn’t moved on. I’m hoping he’ll see us dancing and it’ll click for him they we’re over.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Asked Buck.

“I’ve always wanted a Vegas wedding. You in?.” Tommy joked and Buck laughed loudly.

“Well, I’m easy to live with and I’m a pretty good cook.” Buck said back.

“Good to know.” Tommy smiled. Buck felt that flush of heat again as Tommy looked at him. He broke eye contact and looked over at their table. Shane was staring intently at them, meanwhile Eddie was leaning over whispering to Hen and Karen, still grinning and pointing at them. Buck was never going to live this down.

“He’s still watching by the way.” Buck told him. Tommy sighed, annoyed. Buck took the initiative and moved closer, tightening his arms around Tommys neck. The move surprised Tommy and he waited a beat before wrapping his arms further around Bucks waist.

“So what about you. Any significant other?” Tommy asked.

“Uh, no. My last ex was also a little obsessive. Not about me, though. At least not directly. All she wanted to talk about the fact that I died.” Tommy looked at him confused.

“I have questions...”

Buck laughed. “Short version is I was struck by lightning a few months ago. My heart stopped for over 3 minutes. Which as you can imagine is a very satisfying subject to a Death Doula.”

“Shit. Are you okay? No long term effects?” Tommy asked with a genuine tone of concern.

“I did have some pretty awesome math skills for a while,” he laughed “but sadly they went away quite quickly. But otherwise I’m totally fine.”

“Good.” He smiled. His smile was absolutely gorgeous, Buck finally admitted to himself. “So, a death doula?”

“Yeah. I shouldn’t date someone I meet on a call.”

“Saving someone’s life and then dating them never turns out the way you expect.” Tommy agreed.

“I learned that lesson third time around.”

“And yet they’re always so grateful!” He joked. “He still watching?” Buck looked over to see Shane still sat at the table watching them, but Eddie, Hen and Karen walking, coats and bags in hand, toward the exit. Eddie caught his eye and winked as they left the bar.

He didn’t tell Tommy they’d left. Something inside him didn’t want to. He was enjoying dancing with Tommy and telling him might end it.

“He’s still watching us intently.” Buck said.

“At this point he might have to catch us screwing in the bathroom.” Tommy said with a chuckle. Bucks face immediately flushed. He knew Tommy was joking but.. Something was twisting in his stomach. It was an unfamiliar and unexpected feeling but it was pleasant. More than pleasant.

“I don’t know about that, but what about this..”

It could have been a moment of madness, or weakness, or some deep rooted part of himself he wasn’t aware of, or hell, maybe the 2 beers he’d drank were laced with something that he wasn’t aware of.. but whatever the reason, without thinking about it, Buck leaned in and pressed his lips against Tommy’s.

Tommy’s breath hitched at the surprise. As Buck pulled his lips away and opened his eyes to Tommy’s looking intently at him, he felt a warm explosion in his chest—one he wasn’t expecting. Then the realisation kicked in at what he’d just done.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have..”

He felt embarrassed. Tommy probably didn’t like him that way, and he wasn’t sure of his own feelings either. Tommy did something to him, that he was sure of, now. Earlier he’d thought it was jealousy over Eddie but now he couldn’t deny the feeling in his chest at sharing a kiss with him. He liked it.

Tommy could see he was having some kind of internal debate and ended it as he placed fingers under Bucks jaw, pulling him in for another kiss. This one was firmer and longer.

Without second guessing it Buck opened his mouth against Tommy’s and deepened the kiss. Buck didn’t know why he was doing it or why he liked it—he would spend the next few days unpacking it and would come to a rather life changing revelation— but standing in the bar with his arms around Tommy, feeling his warm tongue against his, that tasted of the IPA’s he’d been drinking, all he knew was that he wanted it.

Tommy’s hands were travelling up and down his back leaving goosebumps in their wake. Buck was holding on to Tommy’s neck for dear life for fear that if he let go, the kiss would end and this feeling he had that was snaking its away in and around his organs would go away.

“I have to say that was unexpected.” Tommy said when the kiss did eventually end. Buck tilted his head and looked up at him bashfully.

“I think your ex is gone.” Buck said. They both looked around and couldn’t see him anywhere.

“Good.” Tommy said looking at Buck. “So, what are you doing Saturday?”

“Saturday?”

“You free?”

[mattsturniolosswife]

<*♰ A VAMPIRE'S LOVE <part one>

summary - when you find a boy stumbling outside your house, your kind heart just needs to let him in and help him, but you'd soon find out that this night wasn't the end of your interaction with him, but the beginning of something, even if it becomes messy.

warnings - being drunk, use of y/n

a/n - this fic is somewhat inspired by @samandcolbyownme 's vampire Matt fic. her's is really good so far so you should also check her's out.

You pull your sweater tighter around your shoulders, feeling the coolness of the night air seeping through. Walking home alone after an evening at Maddie's house, you let out a quiet sigh. The streets are empty, silent but for the soft hum of streetlights. Your mind drifts to the night you just had—a night that should’ve been fun, but didn’t feel quite right. Your friends’ laughter and biting comments still echo in your head, and you can’t help feeling out of place. Their humor, dark and sharp, has always unsettled you. You wonder if they even notice.

As you approach your front yard, you pause. A figure stands in the shadows, wavering slightly, his silhouette faint in the dim light. You squint, heart hammering as you take a cautious step closer, ready to run if he seems dangerous. But something about him—maybe the way he stands unsteady or how his head hangs down—feels more lost than threatening.

"Hello?" You call softly, taking another hesitant step forward.

The boy glances up, his eyes glassy and unfocused. Even in the darkness, you can see that his face is pale, his hair messy as if he’s been wandering for hours. He blinks, clearly struggling to stay upright.

“Are…are you okay?” you ask, concern overriding your nerves.

“Just a little too much to drink, I guess,” he mumbles, his words slurring slightly. “Didn’t mean to end up here.”

You take a closer look at him, trying to figure out if you know him. He seems vaguely familiar, but you can’t place him. Maybe he’s from the same town, or just someone you’ve passed before. “Do you need help?” you ask.

He looks at you, and for a moment, something strange flickers in his gaze, like he’s deciding whether to accept. But then he nods, swaying slightly again. “I just need somewhere to sit,” he mutters.

Without thinking, you step closer, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to steady him as you guide him toward your front door. The weight of him surprises you; he’s heavier than he looks. And as you hold him, a chill runs through you. His skin is cold, almost icy, even though the night isn’t that cool.

“You’re freezing,” you murmur, frowning. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, brushing it off, but his tone is distant, like he’s not quite there. You wonder if he’s just in a bad state or if something else is wrong.

Finally, you manage to get him into the house, closing the door quietly behind you. The warmth inside makes you feel better, but he still looks just as pale, his posture tense despite his obvious exhaustion. “Sit here,” you say, leading him to the couch and gently lowering him down. “I’ll get you some water.”

He nods, his head hanging low as he sinks back, looking strangely out of place in the soft glow of your living room. You hurry to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with water, trying to shake the odd feeling in your chest. There’s something about him that feels…different. Almost too still.

When you return, he’s staring off into the distance, his gaze unfocused. “Here,” you say gently, holding the glass out to him.

He reaches for it, his hand brushing yours as he takes it. You flinch at the coldness of his skin again. “Thank you,” he says, his voice low, almost inaudible. He takes a small sip, then sets the glass down on the coffee table, still looking distracted.

“Do you want me to call someone for you?” you ask, searching his face. But he doesn’t seem interested in that. He just shakes his head, letting out a sigh.

“No,” he says, his voice hollow. “I’ll be fine.”

For a moment, you’re not sure what to do. He looks so out of place, so…lost. “You don’t look fine,” you reply softly, studying him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He doesn’t respond at first. Then he finally meets your gaze, a faint smile tugging at his lips, but there’s no warmth in it. “I’m used to it,” he mutters, so quietly you almost don’t catch it. There’s a sadness in his voice, a weight that makes you want to reach out and comfort him, even though you barely know him.

You sit down on the edge of the couch, watching him carefully. “You don’t have to talk about it,” you say gently, trying to offer some comfort. “Just take your time.”

He glances at you, his expression unreadable. “I don’t know why you’re being so nice to me,” he murmurs, almost like he’s talking to himself.

You shrug, feeling a bit self-conscious. “I just don’t like seeing people like this.”

He nods slowly, his gaze distant. “Guess I haven’t met many people like you.”

The words make you blush, though you can’t quite explain why. His voice is soft, his tone filled with something almost like regret. There’s an intensity in his eyes that you can’t look away from, and suddenly, you feel a shiver run down your spine.

“Why are you out here, anyway?” you ask, your curiosity winning over.

He seems to think about it for a long time before finally responding. “I guess I just needed to feel something,” he murmurs. “Or maybe I just needed to get away.”

The answer makes sense and doesn’t at the same time, but you don’t push him. There’s a strange sort of vulnerability in the way he talks, as if he’s not used to opening up to people. You wonder how long he’s been carrying this weight, wandering alone with no one to talk to.

“You can stay here until you feel better,” you say, feeling a strange protectiveness rise in you. “If you want.”

He looks at you again, his gaze softening slightly. “Thank you,” he says, and this time, there’s a bit more warmth in his voice. “ I mean it.”

You smile, feeling the tension ease just a bit. “No problem.”

For a moment, the two of you sit in silence, the room filled with the quiet hum of the house. But despite the stillness, there’s something electric in the air, something you can’t quite name. It’s like you’re both waiting for something, though neither of you knows what it is.

Finally, he leans back, closing his eyes. “I’ll leave soon. Just need a minute.”

“Take as long as you need,” you say softly, watching him with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

The room is silent, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable. He leans back against the couch, eyes closed, almost like he’s listening to something only he can hear. You watch him for a moment, wondering what he’s thinking.

Finally, he opens his eyes, catching you mid-stare. You look away, embarrassed, but he lets out a soft chuckle, the first real sign of life you’ve seen from him.

“Sorry if I’m, uh… taking up space,” he says, shifting slightly.

“No, really, it’s fine,” you reply quickly. “I didn’t want to leave you outside, you know?”

He tilts his head, a curious look in his eyes. “Most people would’ve just walked away. Especially in this town.”

You shrug, a little shy under his gaze. “I guess I’m not most people.”

He smiles, but it’s subtle, like he’s not used to doing it. “I appreciate it.” A beat of silence passes. “I’m Matt, by the way.”

You blink, surprised that he’s offered his name so easily. “Y/n,” you reply, your voice soft. For some reason, saying your name feels significant, like you’re handing him a small piece of yourself.

“Y/n,” he repeats, testing it out. “Nice name. It suits you.”

The compliment catches you off guard, and you feel your cheeks warm. “Thanks,” you mumble, looking down at your hands.

He shifts his gaze to the glass of water on the table, absently tracing the rim with his finger. “Do you, um… go to the high school here?” he asks, sounding almost casual, though there’s a hint of tension in his voice, like he’s not used to making small talk.

“Yeah,” you reply, glancing up at him. “I’m a senior. What about you?”

He nods, but his eyes grow distant. “I… used to. It’s been a while, though.”

You pause, sensing there’s more he’s not saying. “Did you move away or something?”

A faint smile pulls at his lips, but there’s no humor in it. “Or something,” he murmurs, his gaze drifting to the window. “Let’s just say I don’t exactly fit in around here.”

His words tug at something in your chest, a feeling of understanding. You can’t explain why, but there’s a sadness to him that feels… familiar, in a strange way. Like you’ve felt it, too, in quiet moments when you’re alone.

“I get it,” you say softly, surprising yourself. “Sometimes it feels like I don’t fit in, either.”

Matt glances at you, a flicker of surprise in his eyes, as if he didn’t expect you to say that. He studies you for a moment, his gaze searching, and you feel a strange thrill, like he’s seeing you in a way no one else has.

“Guess we’re both kind of misplaced, then,” he says finally, his voice low.

You smile, feeling a connection between you—a thread that neither of you fully understands but can’t ignore. “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing,” you reply, surprising yourself with the honesty in your words.

He nods slowly, the tension in his face softening. “Maybe not.”

A comfortable silence settles between you again, and you realize you don’t mind the quiet. Being around him doesn’t feel like work; it feels natural, easy in a way you didn’t expect. You’re not sure why, but something about him makes you feel… safe, like you can be yourself without having to pretend.

Finally, he glances at the clock on the wall, a faint frown creasing his brow. “I should probably go,” he says, though he doesn’t make a move to leave.

“Are you sure?” you ask, the words slipping out before you can stop them. “I mean, you can stay for a while if you need to. It’s late, and you still seem a little… unsteady.”

Matt looks at you, a hint of surprise in his eyes, as if he’s not used to people offering him kindness. “You’d be okay with that?”

You nod, a bit embarrassed but determined to be honest. “Yeah. It’s not like anyone will know. It’ll just be our secret.”

He raises an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing at his lips. “Our secret, huh?”

You laugh, a bit nervously, and nod. “Exactly.”

Matt lets out a low chuckle, the sound warm and unexpected. “All right, Y/n. Our secret, then.”

For a moment, you think you see something soft in his gaze, a warmth that wasn’t there before. And as he settles back against the couch, his shoulders relaxing, you realize you’re not as alone as you thought.

The night grows quieter, and for a while, you and Matt sit in companionable silence. You glance at him occasionally, taking in the distant look in his eyes and the way he seems more alert to every small sound. There's something strange about him—something you can’t quite place, but you know it’s different. And when you reach over to take the empty glass of water from him, his cold skin brushes against yours, sending a chill through your hand.

"You're freezing," you say, voice tinged with concern. "Do you need a blanket or something?"

He pauses, glancing at his own hand as if he’s just noticing the temperature himself. A hint of a smile plays on his lips. "It doesn’t bother me. I’m kind of used to it."

You frown, studying him closer. "But you’re like… really cold, Matt. It’s not normal."

He looks away, a muscle in his jaw tightening as if he’s contemplating something. For a moment, the air between you feels heavy, the atmosphere shifting. "There are a lot of things about me that aren’t exactly… normal."

A strange suspicion forms at the edge of your mind, but it feels ridiculous. You push it aside and try to laugh it off. "What, are you some kind of vampire or something?"

Matt freezes. He doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t even smile. Instead, his gaze drops to his hands, the tension radiating from him in waves. The room feels suddenly too small, and a shiver runs down your spine as the reality of his silence sinks in.

"Wait, you're not serious, are you?" Your voice is barely above a whisper, laced with disbelief and just a hint of fear. The idea had been a joke, but seeing his reaction… It suddenly doesn’t feel funny.

He looks up, his gaze piercing, steady. "Y/n, if I told you the truth, would you be able to handle it?"

You hesitate, your heart pounding in your chest. But the curiosity inside you—along with something else, something you don’t fully understand—keeps you from looking away. "Try me."

He exhales, as if he’s been holding that breath for a long time. "I am serious," he says slowly, the weight of his words settling over you. "I’m not like everyone else. I am a vampire."

A wave of disbelief washes over you, mixed with a flutter of fear. You can feel your pulse race, and you subconsciously shift back, putting a little more space between you. "You’re actually serious?"

Matt doesn’t move, his expression grave. "Yes."

You stare at him, trying to process this. "But… vampires aren’t real. They’re just stories, legends. Right?"

A hint of sadness darkens his eyes. "I thought so too, once. Until I became one."

The room seems to spin, and your mind races, struggling to make sense of it all. You remember the news stories, the whispers about the boy who vanished, how no one could find him. He must have been… Matt. You’re looking at him now, years after he disappeared, and somehow he’s here—alive, in a way, but not.

"You’re the boy who disappeared," you whisper, the pieces clicking into place.

Matt nods, his gaze steady on yours. "That’s me."

Your heart beats faster, and despite yourself, you feel a surge of fear. This is impossible, it doesn’t make any sense—and yet, the cold skin, the strange look in his eyes, the way he doesn’t seem to belong in this world anymore… it all fits.

"Are you going to hurt me?" The question escapes your lips before you can stop it, and immediately, you regret it.

Matt’s face falls, and there’s a flash of pain in his eyes. He shakes his head slowly. "No, Y/n. I would never hurt you. If I thought I would, I wouldn’t have let you bring me in."

The sincerity in his voice soothes some of the fear, and you take a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. Deep down, you realize that you believe him. As terrifying as this is, you feel a strange sense of trust, something in him that tells you he won’t harm you.

After a long silence, you finally find your voice. "So what does that mean for you? Being… like this?"

A shadow crosses his face. "It means that my life is complicated," he says quietly. "And it means that I don’t have a place here anymore. Not really."

Something in his tone tugs at your heart, and despite your fear, you feel an urge to comfort him. You inch a little closer, resting your hand near his. "You seem pretty human to me," you say softly, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He looks at you, surprised, a faint smile breaking through his somber expression. "You’re not afraid?"

"I mean, I was," you admit, feeling your cheeks flush. "But I don’t think you’re a monster, Matt. You just seem like… someone who’s been through a lot."

He nods slowly, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. "You have no idea." His gaze shifts to the window, as if the night outside is calling him back. "I should go."

Your heart sinks a little, but you nod. "Will… will I see you again?"

He hesitates, as if weighing his answer. "Only if you want to."

There’s a vulnerability in his expression, something soft and almost hopeful, and you realize that you do want to see him again, despite everything. "Then… I’ll see you," you say, offering him a small smile.

He nods, his own lips quirking up just a bit. Then, with one last look, he heads for the door. You watch as he steps out into the night, his figure disappearing into the shadows, leaving you alone in the quiet of your living room, heart racing, thoughts spiraling.

As you lock the door behind him, you know that your life has changed in ways you can’t even begin to understand—and yet, you can’t shake the strange thrill that’s left in the wake of his departure.

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 < @sturnobsessedwh0re @etherealval @stvrnmc @matts-myloverboy @hellokittylover4life

@s1ut4chris @gwennybenny >

[doctorcurdlejr]

Niko!! what'd you think of I saw the tv glow. I finally saw it last night and noticed you posting about it so I wanted to know your thoughts :)

Levi!!! I was JUST wondering what you were thinking about the movie after I saw you posting about it as well... we are so media discussion pilled in this way, it's awesome. ANYWAYS I've had so many thoughts since I first saw it and I've been trying to turn them into something coherent for a little bit now.

Ummm okay I have written 1k+ words about this movie, the suburbs, and escapism via teen TV.... clearly I was dying for somebody to ask this I guess so thank you for indulging me <3

First and foremost, I absolutely loved it! I've seen it twice now and the first time I watched it I got to see Jane Schoenbrun talk about the film right after. I already really liked it from that first watch alone. I found it so deeply relatable to my experiences - both in terms of growing up gay and trans, but where I am now in my 20s trying to navigate adulthood. Hearing what Schoenbrun had to say really cemented my feelings and thoughts about the film.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer was a big influence on the movie (it's why Amber Benson makes a cameo as Johnny Link's mom). Even though I don't have the same emotional link to Buffy since I never watched it, I recognize it as the same type of warmth I experienced growing up with Riverdale. When Owen says he feels like his insides have been scooped out but that he's too afraid to look and have that wrongness everybody knows is there be confirmed, Maddy simply responds "Maybe you're like Isabel. Afraid of what's inside you." Tears forming but not falling, breathing shallowly, I grabbed the paper and pen the theater keeps at the seats for people to order food with and wrote that line down - the slip of paper is still somewhere in my car. Writing it now almost feels lame in its simplicity, but it felt like my insides were being flayed open.

During the director discussion, Schoenbrun talked a little bit about this idea of how truly fucking bizarre it is to grow up in the suburbs. Like, when we think about the pinnacle of normality in American culture, it's the image of middle-class cis-hetero-white suburbia. At the same time, despite this cultural dream of normality, everybody is hyper-aware that the suburbs are one of the least normal things ever. So, the ACTUAL cultural understanding of it is that it's where we go to, like, passively kill ourselves (*George Costanza voice* WE LIVE IN A SOCIETY YOU KNOW!). This idea isn't new, I mean there are so many films and shows about navigating that specific bizarre dissonance from Rebel Without a Cause to Heathers to Twin Peaks. Probably half the pre-teen to teen TV I watched obsessively growing up, stuff like Strange Days at Blake Holsey High, Making Fiends, Truth or Scare, and eventually Riverdale, were never shy about being weird and morbid and saying "yes, the suburbs are exactly as bizarre and lethal in the ways you can already feel in your bones at 13." I Saw the TV Glow does a really good job of keying not only into that mental dissonance but more specifically into how those of us who have felt so intrinsically weird and different and wrong fell back on these shows like they were capable of doing the emotional version of a rescue breath maneuver after being drowned.

In high school, if there were two things about me that any person who even vaguely knew me could list off it was that I watched Riverdale, and I was a lesbian - and I was mocked more for the Riverdale. At that age, I was, without a doubt, the most miserable I have ever felt in my life. I rarely left the house because my family lived in a development that made me want to scratch my skin off when I walked out our front door. Owen didn't leave the house for days, afraid Maddy could somehow force him out. I sobbed constantly and frequently to depressing indie rock on the floor of my closet while hoping my family would just once read the (honest to god) KEEP OUT poster plastered on my door since I didn't have a lock on it. Owen didn't leave his room for days, afraid of what Maddy recognized in him. I didn't go on dates and kept my chest binder shoved to the bottom of my bookbag while wearing dresses that could've come from a how-to-be the perfect 50s housewife manual. Owen didn't leave his bed for days, afraid of Maddy touching his neck and Isabel's dress. I also watched Riverdale with the kind of zeal you see in a Pentecostal who has found God and started speaking in tongues to let you know it. I own a button that says, "Don't Make Me Go Dark Betty On You," I cherish it in a way that is only achieved by knowing exactly how corny and trite it is and then moving straight past that because well actually, and most people wouldn't get this, she's holding back something deeply dark and wild and- and disgusting. something painful yet intrinsically her. but i get it, obviously. or maybe not obviously! hopefully not obviously, but- basically, I'm just saying I get it: the experience of reflection and recognition through the other and all that.

Whatever, the point is that this movie is one big glaring trans allegory about how it sucks dog shit to live in the suburbs, and even at our most repressed we find these little snow globes of actualization in the glow of a tv screen that isn't afraid to show you the world you see. I've seen some people say that, like, in this context accepting or coming into your transness is this monumental death of self, which I get, but I feel there lacks a nuance in that because either way Owen is dying. Unlike Maddy who buries herself alive only to come out renewed, Owen doesn't kill himself upon facing the reality that the world is constructed to keep him miserable and the only way out is to take back what it is that the world wants to keep scooped out of him. Instead he just passively lets it drag him to a much more permanent death. This lack of suicide sucks in the kind of way that forces you to sit in your car on the midnight drive home and think to yourself am I letting myself suffocate because at some point knowing the misery became less scary than admitting I've been capable of doing something about it the whole time?

Clearly, I’ve been enchanted by the film’s narrative and meta-textual language. If you're familiar with it, you can see how Schoenbrun built this movie like a long-form dream episode of a canceled teen show filmed in Vancouver. Lynchian? Yeah, sure. Riverdalesque? THIS we cannot possibly deny. Schoenbrun said they included Amber Benson as an act of healing the inner rage experienced at Tara’s death in Buffy. This is a Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa ending Riverdale with a bisexual polycule after his gay Archie play got ceased-and-desisted type move. There’s probably more I could say about the soundtrack and the visuals, but I’ve hit over 1k words on this, so I’ll leave it at I enjoyed this movie a lot. :)

Maddy is an out lesbian who left town to escape the misery and found it strapped to her ankles. She slinks out, an animal pressed against the gymnasium floor, and says "I'm not telling you anything you don't already know." Owen looks into the camera and narrates. He cuts himself open with a box cutter, fully acknowledges what's there, and the movie ends with his suffocating apology parade for the unremarkable inconvenience of his excruciating suffering. You can be gay and trans, you can know it and you can stop repressing it, but you're not going to stop suffocating until you can find a way to destroy the part of you that truly deeply does want to die, reaching for the comforting euthanasia of normalcy. Stop visiting the dream of the life you want and make it into your reality with the same kind of unrepentant conviction seen in some underfunded but wildly ambitious teen television series. In other words: you must try to survive the ego death of being weird. A weirdo, who doesn't fit in and doesn't want to fit in!

[al-the-remix]

BuckTommy Whump Week Day 1: Canon typical injury // Wound neglect

Thank you to the @bucktommywhumpweek mods for putting this together (and sorry it's a day late!) uhh...I have no idea how to tag this one, so just enjoy! Again, please excuse any grammar/spelling errors, they'll be all fixed by the time these make is to Ao3.

It was a pretty house, with arched windows and the pristine white walls of a Spanish revival that had recently had some love and attention given to it. Evan had told him some meandering tale that Tommy had had a difficult time following about ghost phone calls and haunted desolate suburban homes. It was one Tommy couldn’t quite believe, but enabled nevertheless; he’d overheard stories about the Loz Feliz murder house, scuttlebutt around the water cooler and during lulls between calls. He’d never given the stories any real consideration, and gave them even less now that he was faced with what looked like a totally innocuous family home. 

Maddie had settled herself at the end of the dining room table, her whole body angled towards him, hands folded around her coffee mug, radiating warmth as she waited patiently for him to spit out what exactly it was that had brought Tommy to her home on her day off.

Tommy hadn’t really known what to expect when he had called her. They’d never had the chance to spend much time one-on-one, whether it was Evan or Howie, there always seemed to be someone else hanging around, dividing his attention. Now he wishes he’d reached out sooner and under more pleasant circumstances. 

“So, what is it you wanted my advice on?”

Tommy drew his own mug closer to his chest, lacing his fingers around it to keep himself from fidgeting. The steam from the tea felt warm on the underside of his chin and he had to bite down on the skin of his inner cheek to quell the sudden swell of emotions that rose inside him. 

“Evan wont let me look after him.”

The corner of Maddie’s mouth twitched up in a moment of brief amusement, then tugged down in a sympathetic half-smile. “Welcome to the club.”

Tommy found himself laughing despite himself, the noise thick and a little wet in the back of his throat. He hoped that part was quite enough to slip beneath her radar.

If Maddie noticed she didn’t acknowledge it, much to Tommy's relief. He already felt foolish showing up here to needle his boyfriend’s sister for relationship advice, even if he had been invited, he didn’t need to get all emotional about it too.

“Have you talked with Evan recently?”

“I have, but I can’t say that he was exactly forthcoming. Not that he ever is when he’s injured.”

“Right,” Tommy looked down at his hands. “Which I understand, I’ve had strains before, they’re a drag and it’s annoying having to be on the bench for three weeks, but they’re worse if you don’t let them rest.” She was watching him with clear understanding as he rambled. 

“What happened,” Maddie asked gently.

Tommy rubbed at the side of his nose, feeling a little sheepish. “You’re a nurse so you know. Anyway, it sounds silly now, but he wanted to go to the gym the other day–which it’s way too early for–and we got into an argument about it. I wanted to give him space, but now he hasn't texted me in three days and I don’t know what to do. I tried to call him earlier, but he didn’t pick up. I just don’t know how much to push.”

In Tommy’s experience, the line between caring and overbearing was a thin one. 

Evan had never seemed to shy away from going after Tommy’s attention when he had wanted it, whether that meant asking for tours he didn’t really need, or playing sports he didn’t actually like, or organizing a coffee date to apologize when he hadn’t needed to. Maybe it had been presumptuous of him, but Tommy really had expected Evan to reach out sooner rather than later; and the longer the silence went on the more deliberate it felt, like maybe he’d overstepped some invisible boundary Tommy hadn’t even considered looking out for. 

Maddie watched him with a kind, sympathetic expression. Maybe at first glance most would say she and Evan didn’t look much alike, but to Tommy it was clear in their eyes, and their smiles, and their big hearts. 

“I don’t know how much he’s told you yet about our parents or our family situation.” She spoke carefully, as if weighing each word with her consideration. “But I think you might find that he does want someone to look after him, he’s just worried that once you see it, all the raw, messy bits he likes to hide, you won’t want to stay.”

Tommy was all too familiar with raw and messy, not that Evan knew that yet. And maybe that was part of the issue, he’d been so preoccupied with letting Evan set the speed and seeing where it took them, that he’d allowed his own role in this dance to fall to the wayside. He’d told Evan that he was interested, but did Evan know to what degree? Maybe he’d been too concerned with scaring Evan off to really open up the way he should have by now.

“Has that happened before?” Tommy asked when he’d worked the words past the frog in his throat.

She tilted one shoulder up. “He thinks it has, and that’s enough.”

Tommy considered that, staring down into his milky reflection in his untouched tea. 

“Here, have a biscuit,” Maddie offered, pushing the plate of neatly arranged shortbreads across the table at him. 

Tommy gladly took one. In spite of what Evan had suffered through with his parents growing up, he was lucky to have her. 

///

For once the afternoon L.A. traffic didn’t get under Tommy’s skin. He gladly welcomed the prolonged drive home to turn Maddie’s words over in his head. 

In many ways Evan’s body was sort of like a haunted house: possessed by a ghost that wasn’t his, neglected because of it. 

In Tommy’s pocket there was an extra key on his keyring, freshly cut and matching his own. It had sat there for a week, fucking with his head while he’d waited for the perfect opportunity to offer it to Evan. Sure, it was fast, but there was just something about the way Evan had weaved so snugly into Tommy’s life that had made him want to forgo all of his usual hesitancies and firmly erected walls in favour of having Evan be able to come and go from his house as he pleased. And Tommy liked the idea of finding Evan already in his home at the end of the day. He’d hoped that Evan might take it as the signal it was: that Tommy wanted him around permanently, taking up space and leaving his dirty socks all over Tommy’s house. 

Most of all, Evan made him want to be brave. Now Tommy wasn’t so sure. 

Evan had navigated their first few months of dating with his foot pressed firmly on the gas and very little inhibition, leaving Tommy reeling in his wake. He wasn’t accustomed to being pursued with that much earnest persistence, especially by men who up until very recently considered themselves straight.

///

Maybe he’d overlooked the very real possibility that all that inertia may be overcompensation for something lurking below. That when all that confidence melted away and all the forward momentum Evan had built up hit its peak, Evan wasn’t fully prepared to handle the descent that lived on the other side, not on his own.

That was okay, Tommy was a pro at handling those. If only Evan would let him. 

Tommy tossed his keys in his hand as he made his way to the front door,  thumbing the rough edges of the newly cut key. He wasn’t sure how many things Evan truly had of his own; he’d heard about the bicycle and the brother, and he knew that what Evan did have he fiercely guarded, his own space and his bodily autonomy were at the top of that list. 

Tommy had witnessed the way wounded and sick animals could go from gentle to aggressive in a blink of an eye out of fear and pain. He wanted Evan to know how invensted he was in this relationship, but also didn’t want to be the one to corner Evan, to make him feel trapped and like he needed to lash out to be understood. 

It was a fine balance. 

The house was dark and quiet, he hadn’t expected anything else, but still he tried not to let his disappointment settle in the pit of his stomach and make a home there. That wouldn’t help anything. 

 He made his way to his room, not expecting to find a big formless lump on his bed or that it would groan when he flicked on the lights. 

Tommy just about jumped out of his skin, swearing black and blue. Evan was lying on top of the bed covers, his sneakers still on his feet. It looked like he had half-heartedly attempted to undo the laces on one before giving up. 

Evan lowered the arm he’d flung over his eyes against the light, squinting at him where Tommy still hovered in the doorway. 

“Hi,” Tommy said, at a loss for anything else. As far as Evan’s expressions went, the one he was wearing was fairly unreadable.  

“Hey–So, you’re going to be mad at me.” Evan let the words out in one big sigh, like they had been pressed up tight against the starting gate of his teeth. 

Tommy risked taking a step closer to the bed. “I promise you I’m not.” 

Evan let his head thunk back against the mattress, eyes locked on the ceiling, and muttered: “I think I strained my strain.”

Caught off guard, Tommy had to press his lips together tight to suppress the laugh that bubbled up in his throat. This wasn’t exactly the moment for it. 

Evan was still staring at the ceiling, looking miserable, even after everything Tommy couldn’t help but feel fond. “Stay still, I'll go get the ice pack.”

“That won’t be hard.” He heard Evan mumble as he went to dig the gel pack out from the back of his freezer, grabbing a bottle of Advil and one of the water bottles Evan had left in his dishwasher for good measure. 

When Tommy returned Evan had indeed not moved. He settled himself on the foot of the bed, pulling Evan’s skinny ankles into his lap as he began working away at the laces. “How did you get into my house?” Tommy asked as he worked. That really should have been his first question, he could feel the heavy presence of his eyes in his pocket. Well received or not, he probably should have offered it to Evan a week ago.   

“You’re a firefighter, you should know those little fake rocks are a dead giveaway to anyone trying to break in,” Evan huffed, sounding more like himself. “At least invest in a garden gnome or something to throw them off.”

Tommy chuckled, catching Evan’s eye. “I’ll keep that in mind for the next time my boyfriend decides to break into my house.”

Evan’s gaze dipped down to where Tommy was working the first shoe off his foot, quiet for a few moments before he said, softly: “Thanks.”

Tommy just grunted as he started working on the laces of the other high top. Evan really needed to invest in some proper weightlifting shoes, but Tommy wasn’t exactly raring to get into another gym centered argument so soon. 

When he’d finally wrestled both shoes off, Tommy got Evan sitting up against the headboard, and situated himself on the edge of the mattress at his knee so he could slip the ice pack under the meat of his calf and hold it there.  

“I can do that if you want.”

“It’s fine. I’m happy to,” Tommy said simply, giving Evan’s ankle a squeeze where his other hand rested. He wasn’t expecting Evan’s eyes to dart off to the side, a rush of air leaving his lungs with a hitch that snagged Tommy’s attention. 

“Fuck, I didn’t want to do this,” Evan said, his hand coming up to rub at his eyes. 

“Be a mess, you know, a nuisance.”

“Do what? Evan–”

“Evan, I don’t think you’re a nuisance,” Tommy said, trying to catch his eye. 

Evan shot him a flat, red rimmed look. “I broke into your house. I was stubborn when you were just trying to look out for me, and then too much of a chicken to call you back when you were worried about me.”

Tommy stroked his thumb over the exposed bulb of Evan’s ankle bone. “I shouldn’t have pushed,” he said softly.

Evan shook his head. “I want you to push–you weren't even pushing–not really. I just, I really like you.” 

Tommy felt a sappy smile spread across his face. He let go of Evan's ankle to take his hand instead, giving it a squeeze. “I really like you too.”

Evan let out a wet sound somewhere between a cough and a laugh, his face a startling red. “I really like being your boyfriend.” 

“Good,” Tommy said, “because as your boyfriend I want to ice your leg for you, even when you’re being stubborn about it, even when you don’t call me back.” Evan’s eyes dipped away to the side like he was preparing to sidestep Tommy’s sentiment again and he figured this was his moment to lay it all out there. “This isn’t too much. You’re not too much for me, but if it’s too much for you, too soon, you need to tell me, because I’m serious about this Evan. I want you to be around even when things are messy.”

Tommy reached into his pocket, pulling out his keychain and began to work the new key off the ring. “Maybe this isn't the right moment, but I had this cut a few weeks ago, and so if you'd like, you can just let yourself in next time instead of having to hunt through my garden for fake rocks.”

Evan stared at the key Tommy held out to him, a dumb founded expression on his face. “You got that made for me?”

“Yeah–”

“You don't plan on going to Ireland any time soon do you?”

His eyes were like big wet saucers, infinitely vulnerable and Tommy frowned. “What?”

Evan's face crumpled, one big hand snapping up to cover it as he muffled a sob. 

“Okay, okay,” Tommy soothed as he climbed gingerly over Evan's legs to sit properly on the bed beside him. “Come here.” 

He was relieved when Evan let himself be pulled against his chest, wrapping his arms snugly around Tommy's neck.

“I'm sorry I was a dick and for the crying, my leg just really fucking hurts,” Evan mumbled into Tommy's now soggy shirt collar.

Tommy rubbed his back in calming circles. “It's okay, I don't mind, and I forgave you pretty quickly. Just next time please call me back so I know you're alright. I want you to.”  

Evan moved just far enough away so he could get a good look at Tommy's face. “Me too–all that stuff you said–it's not too much for me either,” he said and pulled Tommy into a wet, kind of snotty kiss. 

Tommy cradled Evan's face in his hands, it was short and sweet, Evan's sinuses too blocked up for anything more than that, but at least he was smiling when he broke away from the kiss, out of breath.

“I was kind of worried you were going to break things off with me, that's why I didn't call you back," he admitted.

“Evan–” Tommy tried, but was cut off.

“Look, maybe I have a penchant for self-sabotage, but I'll, uh, try to be better with that.” He laced their fingers back together, resting them against Tommy's knee. "I haven't wanted something this badly in a long time. It's kind of scares me."

"Me too," Tommy admitted, "I meant it when I said I was serious about you."

Evan's smile did something that made Tommy's heart jump in his throat. "Good, because I think I'm going to need a ride to the doctor's tomorrow."

"I think I can manage that," Tommy said and reached for the ice pack where it had been left forgotten on the mattress. And maybe after that Evan would want to come back to his house and stay a while.

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 34/34 - epilogue

[Read on AO3]

Greenwich, CT

May 2001

-.-.-

“Smile at the camera, sweetheart!” Mulder calls, holding the camcorder up in front of him and peering through the viewfinder. “You too, beautiful.”

Scully pauses her search for seashells with Madeline, tapping the little girl on the shoulder and showing her where to look. As soon as she spots him, a chubby little finger points in his direction, her face lighting up in a smile, and with his free hand, he waves back.

“Hi Miss Madeline!” he says, zooming in on the two of them as they go back to their search for seashells in the sand. “Are you having fun?” He pans down to the gentle waves as they lap at the shoreline, coming closer and closer and finally tickling at the toes of Maddie and Scully, eliciting a shriek of joy from the now toddling one-year-old.

“Is it cold?” he asks.

“A little cold, still,” Scully answers, leading their daughter by the hand a little further from the ocean. He zooms back out, capturing the full picture of this lovely New England beach as it nears sundown, the warmth starting to fade along with the light.

“How about this one?” a soft, older voice cuts in, walking carefully over the sand toward little Maddie, who holds out her hand in acceptance. Teena Mulder leans down and places a large white seashell in her hand, which little Maddie thoroughly inspects.

“Did Grandma find a big one, baby?” Mulder asks, walking closer to his family to get a better look at the spoils of their seashell hunting trip.

Maddie holds it up for the camera. “Ah!” she answers, tugging at Scully’s hand to bring her closer to her dad.

“Oh, look at that!” he says enthusiastically, widening his eyes comically. She grunts and stretches her arm out as far as it will go—her way of telling him she wants to give him something. He chuckles and holds out his hand, accepting her gift with a wide brimming smile. “Thank you, sweet pea. Should Daddy hold onto that for you?”

Scully’s lips pull back in a smile as she looks up at him. “I think that’s probably a good idea,” she answers for Maddie.

Mulder tucks the shell into his pocket, pressing the record button on the camcorder and checking that there’s still battery left before looping the strap over his shoulder.

“Alright, Daddy’s turn, little stinker,” he says, grabbing Maddie by the hands and lifting her into the air. She squeals in delight, swinging in an arc until he plops her back down in the shallowest bit of water where the sea meets the shore.

“Mulder, you’re gonna get the camera wet!” Scully calls out, her brow slanted in either worry or disapproval.

Maddie stomps around in the water, giggling at the way it splashes up when she does.

“Did you hear that, Maddie?” Mulder asks in mock alarm, addressing his question directly to his daughter, though speaking loud enough for Scully to hear. “Mommy thinks I’m going to drop this expensive camcorder into two inches of water, can you believe it?!”

Madeline gapes up at him, clearly having no clue what he’s talking about, but just happy to be included.

“I did not say you’d drop it,” Scully corrects, pursing her lips and crossing her arms in that way that he’s always thought looked so adorable, especially with how tiny she is.

Mulder walks Maddie back over to the others, silently handing her and the camera off to his mother with a playful glint in his eye.

“You’re worried about getting the camera wet, Scully?” he asks, his voice dangerously low as he approaches her, taking one long, drawn out step at a time.

“Mulder, don’t,” Scully warns, suddenly catching on to this game he’s playing, but she’s too late. She tries to escape, but he grabs her around the middle and lifts her into the air, taking off toward the ocean with laughter on his breath. 

He bridal carries her as he wades out into the water, the salty seawater soaking up to his knees. The cold temperature invigorates him—makes him feel alive. Or maybe it’s the pleading screeches of his wife as she yells at him to take her back in between irrepressible fits of giggles.

She clings onto him for dear life, lifting her feet so they don’t dangle into the brisk ocean as he comes to a sudden stop.

“I think this is far enough,” he says thoughtfully, looking around them with a contemplative gaze.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she says, her jaw dropping open. She can pretend to be aghast by his actions all she wants—she can’t hide that underlying amusement that pulls at the corners of her lips.

“Sorry, honey,” he says, meeting her eyes with a shrug. And with that, he drops her into the water.

She comes up gasping, her mouth open wide in disbelief that he’d really gone through with it.

“Mulder!” she yells, wiping water from her eyes and smoothing her hair back out of her face. He doubles over laughing, unable to restrain himself. “Help me up,” she demands, reaching her hand out for him to grab on to.

He acquiesces, gripping her slippery fingers with both hands, and pulling, but instead of pulling her up, he finds himself being yanked downward, and it’s not long before he, too, has pants full of sand.

“You happy now?” he asks, resigned to his fate.

“No!” she shrieks, her brows raised to her forehead. Water drips down and gets caught in her eyelash, and she wipes it away, fighting back a smile. “I’m all wet, Mulder!” she complains. “We have to drive back to your mom’s house like this!”

“So what?” he says, pulling her toward him by the waist. He presses a firm kiss to her cold lips, warming them with his own for a moment before pulling back. His fingertips tease at her sides, causing her to squirm away.

He remembers the day he found out Scully was ticklish. One of the greatest days of his life, for sure.

“Mulder…” she complains, though this time with a little less fervor. The waves crash against them incessantly, occasionally splattering one of them with a splash of seawater to the eye.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, this time actually helping her to her feet. “I’ll wrap you in a big fuzzy blanket as soon as we get home, I promise.” He gives her one final peck on the lips once they’re upright again, and leads her by hand back to the shore, where his mother watches on in amusement.

“Was that really the best decision, Fox?” she asks, her scrutinizing eyes traveling over their soaked clothing and back up to their reddened faces.

Best decision? No. That honor goes to the day he’d decided to pursue adoption with Scully. This family—one of their own making—that was the best decision he’d ever made. Nothing else would ever come close.

But having a little fun, dumping her in the water and getting absolutely soaked…? Well, he’d never regret anything that made Scully laugh. From the first moment he heard it in the graveyard in Bellefleur, it’s been his life’s mission to hear it again. In the past year, he’s succeeded more times than he can count.

“No regrets,” he declares proudly, pressing a kiss to the back of Scully’s hand, still intertwined with his own.

Teena shakes her head in fond disdain, setting Madeline down on the sand so that she can focus on walking over the uneven terrain back to the car. Maddie reaches up with both of her hands, and Mulder grabs one while Scully grabs the other. 

“Wet!” she says, her little forehead pinching in concern, the word apparently one of the few that she knows.

Mulder shakes his head over top of her, sprinkling her with water droplets from his hair and causing her to shriek. “No!” she squeals. “No, Da-da!”

Scully laughs, her feet slipping a bit in the sand as she walks.

“Come on, now, you two can’t team up on me!” Mulder protests.

“You’re outnumbered, Mulder,” Scully points out, and he heaves an exaggerated sigh.

By the time they get back to Teena Mulder’s house—only a short drive away—the seats of their car are damp with seawater and Scully has informed him that he’ll be the one cleaning it when they get back to their house in Virginia. He responds with, “Yes, dear,” a phrase that never fails to make her roll her eyes.

Madeline falls asleep on the ride home, clutching the seashell that Grandma Mulder had found in her hand like a stuffed animal. As much as they hate to put her in bed still covered in salt and sand from the ocean, they really don’t want to wake her, so they do the best they can to clean her off before setting her down in the travel crib they brought. It’s their last day anyway. The sheets can be cleaned.

Scully gives him first dibs on the shower, biding her time by packing up the little room they’ve shared at his mother’s house for the past week. He re-emerges feeling like a new man, free from that grimy feeling of being covered in salt.

Her shower takes longer than usual. He starts to miss her, not wanting to go to bed without her, but feeling the undeniable call of the down mattress and pillows. 

He knocks on the door, asking her if she’s almost finished.

She opens it slowly, holding a piece of plastic in her hands and looking astonished.

He glances down at it, two blue lines the same color as the paint in his mother’s coastal-themed guest bathroom beaming up at him.

He’s not sure whether he should laugh or cry at first. She looks up at him, uncertainty darkening her face, and he settles for scooping his wife into his arms, rocking her back and forth in complete disbelief.

After he’s taken a moment to absorb this new information, he pulls back, holding her in place and grinning uncontrollably down at her.

“Scully, do you ever get the feeling that the universe is laughing at us?” he asks, chuckling a little as he takes in the glow that he’s just now noticing around her.

“I don’t know if the universe is capable of laughing, Mulder,” she responds in her shaky voice, ever the skeptic. “But someone definitely is.”

“Well, Dana,” he says, pressing a kiss to her forehead and splaying his hand over her abdomen. “I was just thinking about how much I missed the newborn stage.”

~~~

end.

~~~

I have so much to say, and I don't know where to start. Apologies in advance for the long author's note.

To all of you who have read and commented here and on AO3 (I'm still a bit in shock over just how many of you there are), thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your response has meant the world to me, and to know you've looked forward to updates just as I have for stories by authors I look up to… Well, it's humbling.

Since I started writing fanfiction a decade ago, I've always wanted to find the patience and inspiration to write a proper slow burn and have people follow along. Now, this turned out even longer than I expected it to--and at times during the three months it took to write, I felt like I had overestimated my patience to keep writing--but I'm really happy with how it turned out. Checking this one off my bucket list!

To @numinousmysteries: Your help with beta reading and offering suggestions is so appreciated. I've never written anything of this magnitude before, and your encouragement was a much-needed reassurance prior to posting this. I think the story is better off having taken into account your advice, so for that, I am so grateful.

To all X-Philes: I am continuously amazed by how alive this fandom is over 30 years later. You have been so welcoming. I only watched the show for the first time in February 2023, so while I'm still fairly new around here, it doesn't really feel like it.

Now, to answer the question some of you have been asking… Will there be more?

At this time, I don't have anything planned and am not sure when I'll be writing again, but I certainly have some ideas. The way the final two chapters came together obviously skips over what could be some important or at least interesting character moments (Charlie comes to mind, as well as the whole Scully clan). If inspiration strikes, of course I'd love to expand this story into it's own series, probably consisting of mostly one-shots.

I also think it would be fun to take prompts on here for scenes you'd like to see in this universe. No promises on how quickly I'll get to them, but why not--if you have something in mind, feel free to send me an ask and I'll try to get to them as the muse hits. If I do, they'll be posted here and on AO3.

This is turning into a "midwest goodbye" of an author's note, so… Okay, that's it. Yeah. Thanks again for reading. Till next time!

<3

~~~

Lovely tag list ♡: [thank you all for following along and/or letting me clog your notifications for a month!]

@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @clo-thespin @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @gillian-anderson-in-the-tardis @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @msrafterdark @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear

[wildlife4life]

Fuck-Friday Coda

Tagged by the always lovely @theotherbuckley @perfectlysunny02 @cal-daisies-and-briars @aroeddiediaz @exhuastedpigeon @hippolotamus @loserdiaz @wikiangela @daffi-990 @tizniz and @diazsdimples Thank you all so much for all the tags throughout the week and today! I have eased back on working NFL Buck because I am absolutely swamped with school. I have started clinic rounds and somehow the classwork has doubled for the next set of courses. Which holy crap. So a lot of my days are for studying, homework, and quizzes. Add on being a mom/house wife and yea, not a ton of time to work on my favorite WIP. But I am making time on Thursday to watch the newest 9-1-1 episodes and write codas, because I started them in the final episodes of season 6 and really enjoyed it! So I made a goal to make a coda for most if not all of season 7 episodes! 2/2! I will try my absolute damnest to get some work into NFL Buck because it is my baby and I know how much it is beloved. Until then, enjoy the season 7 codas. Posted to ao3.

7x02 Coda

“We-I…” Buck tries to find the right words again, but he has no idea what they should be.  He doesn’t know if he should be defending himself along with Eddie and Chimney, proclaim that they were just being honest with internal affairs. Or if he should defend Hen and the betrayal she felt when they couldn’t back her up.

Rock and a hard place, with Buck being squeezed tightly in between.

Chimney left the locker-room soon after Hen, with the passing false hope comment, “She’ll come around.”  His phone was half-way to his ear before disappearing around the ladder truck, most likely spilling the entire ordeal to Maddie.

Buck slumps back down on the bench and leans his head against the lockers, closing his eyes with a defeated sigh. Still standing close by, Buck hears Eddie hum in agreement. Yea, tonight was very much a downer.

“We should have had her back.” Buck finally says.

He feels additional weight added to bench and pressing warmth along his arm and thigh when Eddie sits beside him. “We did. We just all put our foots in our mouths trying to show her.” He assured.  He gives Buck knee a gentle squeeze, “You more than me with that whole ‘right call’ comment and wanting to give Captain Collier’s a hard time.”

Buck groans in embarrassment, “I was trying and horribly failing to lighten the mood.”

“The mood was dead on arrival; you had no chance.” Eddie chuckles.

They both go silent, stewing in the hurt emotions left behind by Hen and Chimney, mixing with their own anxiety and worry. It kind of reminds Buck of the last time Hen was captain and that man died at the happiness convention. God that felt like so long ago, when really is less than a year.  Yet here they all are, questioning themselves on the job after losing a patient and without Bobby’s steady leadership to help guide them through it.

Buck could only hope this didn’t send him or anyone else on the team into a spiral of questioning their purpose in life. And he really hoped it didn’t lead to another brush with death, for anyone of them.

The hand on Buck’s knee never left and gave another squeeze, pulling him from his past wallows and has his eyes fluttering open. He looks over at Eddie and sees an understanding smile gracing his lips. “That man’s death isn’t on us. We we’re working on the worst of the crash, and we saved that girl and her mother.  Hen made the right call, the same one Bobby would have made and when those lab results concur with her story, she’ll be back, and we’ll find a way to make it up to her.”

Buck takes a moment to let Eddie’s words sink it and pull him from the beginnings of a self-deprecating spiral. He did his job, he gave his facts of the event truthfully, and Hen would come around. In all regards, Buck just needed to learn how not to put his foot in his mouth, because at the moment it really was a nasty taste.

Slowly most of the tension that had built up during Hen’s confrontation eases away and Eddie felt it through the press of his shoulder into Buck’s, “That has to be a record.” He comments before getting to his feet and reaching a hand out.

Buck doesn’t even hesitate and tries his damnest not to flush too red as Eddie hauls him to his feet with little to no effort. The man has a girlfriend and Buck was done chasing. “Uh yea. Turns out when you stop trying to search for the life’s great moments and instead live in them, internal spiraling is easier to pull out of.” He explains. Eddie also is a big contributor, but Buck isn’t going to admit that to said man.

“Well… At least those self-help books will make good kindling for the next campfire.” Eddie cackles and Buck swats at his shoulder which only makes him laugh harder.

Eventually Buck joins in and the pit of dread dwindles further. He embraces this moment and knows eventually everything is going to be okay.

Short but somewhat sweet I hope! Tagging (no pressure): @jesuisici33 @fortheloveofbuddie @rogerzsteven @lemonzestywrites @evanbegins @buck-coded @devirnis @glorious-spoon @thekristen999 @spotsandsocks @hippolotamus @sunshinediaz @watchyourbuck @lover-of-mine @hoodie-buck @elvensorceress @gayedmundodiaz @giddyupbuck @jeeyuns @bekkachaos @buddierights @try-set-me-on-fire @rainbow-nerdss @thewolvesof1998 @eddiebabygirldiaz @spaceprincessem @eddiiediaz @honestlydarkprincess @doublecheekeddiaz @prosperdemeter2 @transboybuckley @nmcggg @monsterrae1 @dangerpronebuddie @missmagooglie @thebloomingheather

[peri-helia]

Safe Harbour

Did I have a nightmare last night and process it by writing my first BuckTommy drabble on a spur of the moment at 3am…maybe. Also on A03

Even after therapy, nightmares are possible. They happen less, thank fuck, far, far less but they’re still there sometimes, pulling Buck into the depths of his own subconscious. He has ones about the truck, the tsunami, Maddie, the shooting, his parents, Daniel. He can’t find Chris, he doesn’t get to Eddie. Bad calls and shit days tumble together to create a library of nightmares. This time he’s stuck somewhere and what’s even worse is everything he’s trying; he can’t get out.

He’s a firefighter. He can always get out. With the right gear and enough time, there is nowhere he can’t break through. But the walls are smooth and the glass is solid, thick and unyielding enough that there’s no purchase for his nails as he hurtles down, down a lift shaft that’s now a chasm as a wordless scream bubbles out of his throat –

“Evan!”

Buck lunges forward, eyes snapping open to realise that he’s not anywhere other than in his own bed, in the loft no less, kicking the covers free. He tips forward, body still clambering free of the dream but doesn’t, thankfully, actually, fall off the edge of the bed. Strong arms tug round his middle, holding him fast.

“I’ve got you. Shh. Shh. It’s alright, sweetheart. I’ve got you”

 He rolls back, and Buck finds himself gently pressed flat into the mattress blinking up at “Tommy?”

A lovely smile of what look like relief blooms over Tommy’s features as his boyfriend leans over him in the bed, one arm braced by Buck’s head, the other hand coming up to gently frame his face.

“There you are, baby. You scared me there for a minute. Bad dream, was it?”

Guilt sweeps through him, hot and strong as a flashover at the thought of Tommy seeing his nightmares. Ali had left him, Taylor had put a brave face on it but he could tell how much the strength of the nightmares had shocked her. Natalia had been a little bit fascinated which sometimes was worse. Buck scrunches his eyes shut, “’m sorry. It still happens sometimes, the nightmares. Not as bad as it used to be but –“ he swallows, shaking off the rest of the nightmare, the looming sensation of terror being replaced by the solid warmth of their shared bed “I’m sorry you had to see that”

“Evan?” Tommy asks sounding for all the world like he did when Buck asked him to be his date to the wedding. Then, a little stronger ‘Evan, sweetheart. Open your eyes for me, yeah?” Tommy starting rubbing little circles over Buck’s cheekbone with his thumb and Buck can’t help but lean into the pressure like a cat.

Tommy’s handsome face reappears in his line of sight, and the smile that’s there would make Buck’s knees weak if he wasn’t already lying down. Tommy gets this Look sometimes, when he knows Buck’s deflecting or making light of his feelings and the fact that it even registers with Tommy, that he can look at Buck and see that is something else.

“You have nothing to apologise for. After all the shit you’ve been through, you and your team I’m not surprised you still get bad dreams. And as for me seeing it, baby, I just want to be here with you. For you. You don’t have to put on a brave face for me, and I won’t do that with you, okay?”

Buck stares at him for a minute because it’s not as if he forgets that Tommy hasn’t seen his own amount of shit, that of everyone Buck’s ever been with he’s the one who understands the job. It’s just that Tommy’s more than ‘cool’ and sweet and gorgeous and confident. He’s sort of perfect and words aren’t enough to say how grateful Buck was to feel hands on him when he woke up, that someone had come to help him, that he wasn’t alone in there.

“Okay, deal” he manages after a second, hand coming up to hold Tommy’s where its still cupping Buck’s cheek and turning it ever so slightly so he can press a kiss to Tommy’s palm. Tommy holds his gaze for a moment longer, and that’s something else that he’s seen Tommy do and Buck’s beginning to recognise it for what it is. Tommy’s giving him the chance to say more if he wants to, to be honest. They’d gone into this relationship with Buck not knowing what he was ready for, but knowing that he wanted it to be with Tommy and the space and the patience that Tommy just gives because he wants to be the person that he’d have needed, that he can see Buck needs in his first relationship with a guy. Sometimes Buck’s not sure why Tommy even gives him the time of day still, let alone shares a bed and coffee and the flying lessons they’re starting next week with.

He’s sure that if he voiced that opinion out loud, Tommy would give him the Look again. But right now, with the promise in place and Tommy’s weight over him, solid and real and smiling at him, Buck’s pretty sure he’s got everything he needs, right here. He stretches up to press a kiss to the cleft of Tommy’s chin, grinning when it makes the older man snort with laughter.

“Okay, hotshot. Deal.” It’s probably meant to sound teasing and light, but all that comes out is softness, to go with the kisses Tommy drops on Buck’s forehead and then chaste and quick to his mouth. They cuddle back up with the lights off, slotted against each other; Tommy a solid line at his back, fingers tangled together lightly.

“Love Actually and chill tomorrow?” Buck suggests into the darkness, grinning to himself when Tommy snorts out another disbelieving laugh. He’d loved it, the last time Buck had suggested it, the both of them snuggled up in bed watching everyone falling in love that had ended up with both of them shirtless and things heading in a very promising direction before the film even ended.

“Sure, Evan. I’d love that”

Then, after another minute because he hasn’t said it and Maddie raised him to recognise others.

“Tommy?”

“Mmhm?”

“Thank you”

“Of course. Anytime”

The last thing Buck thinks as he falls asleep, burrowing deeper into Tommy's embrace is that he’s starting to believe that.