#or we are gonna read it as buck staying by eddies side even after he goes crazy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

livesincerely · 1 month

Text

this pounding in my heart just won’t die - ch. 2

Rated E, A/B/O.

Also on Ao3. Chapter 1 here

00000

‘Taking him home,’ actually translates to ‘taking him to Eddie’s house,’ which is the exact kind of thing—has the exact kind of implications—that Buck normally doesn’t let himself think about for too long.

But now? Now, riding in the back of the ambulance, flushed and sweaty and painfully empty, his teeth clenched against the overwhelming heat sizzling just under his skin?

Now, when Eddie’s holding him close, a hand curled protectively around his hip as he murmurs assurances against his hair, his head tucked against Eddie’s shoulder and his lips pressed to his pulse? When Eddie says he wants him?

It’s hard not to read too much into things, is all he’s saying.

It’s hard not to hope.

But after an agonizingly long journey, they finally roll to a stop.

“Buck,” Eddie prompts when neither of them move. “You still with me?”

“Yeah,” Buck manages, rising on shaky legs. “‘M with you.”

Before he can take a single step, Eddie’s there, steadying him with an arm around his waist. He helps him climb out of the ambulance, then, together, they hobble up the drive.

“Hen and Karen are gonna take Christopher for the next few days,” Eddie tells him, leading him into the kitchen. “Let me pack up some clothes and stuff for him real quick and then we can get you settled.”

“Need a hand?” Buck offers, all but collapsing against the far wall—he’s pretty sure if he sits down, he won’t be able to get back up.

Eddie just looks at him: a familiar mix of fond and exasperated.

“Do I need a hand from the guy who can’t even stand up on his own?” Eddie wonders, in the driest voice imaginable. “Somehow, I think I’ll manage.”

“Smartass,” Buck pouts. “I was just asking.”

“And I’m just telling you, I’ve got it,” Eddie replies. “Pull up a chair before you pass out, idiot.”

“I’m fine.”

The Look only intensifies.

“I’m fine enough,” Buck concedes. “You know, I think there’s still a load of laundry in the dryer, I could just—“

“Or, maybe,” Eddie cuts in firmly, flattening his palm over Buck’s sternum to hold him in place. Buck’s heartbeat kicks into double time. “You could stay here and let me handle it. I know the concept of ‘self-preservation and taking it easy’ goes against the very nature of your being—“

“Hey!”

“—but I’d really love for us to get through this relatively unscathed. You’re already feverish,” Eddie continues, reaching up to brush the back of his hand over Buck’s clammy forehead. “And your scent is just…”

“Is just…?” Buck murmurs hoarsely.

Eddie takes another step forward, caging him against the wall with an arm on either side of his waist. His eyes trail over him, lingering on Buck’s mouth for a long moment before dropping lower, his nostrils flaring.

“Smell like you’re aching for it,” Eddie says, and there’s a rasp to his voice that sends a thrill of heat sparking up his spine.

And what is Buck supposed to do except want him?

His throat works, his mouth painfully dry. “Eddie.”

Their eyes meet again, the scant space between them buzzing like an electric charge.

They breathe together for one second, two seconds. Then Eddie threads a hand through Buck’s hair and tips his head to the side, exposing the vulnerable line of his throat.

Buck just barely manages to choke back a whine. His hands clench and flex uselessly at his sides, then somehow find their way to Eddie’s hips: a wordless plea, urging him on, begging for his touch.

There’s a hot puff of air against his collarbone, the whispering touch of Eddie dragging his nose down his throat, tugging the neck of his shirt aside for better access. Then he’s mouthing at his scent gland, nipping and teasing at it until Buck can almost taste the mark he’s leaving there, the claim he’s bruising into his skin.

“Eddie,” Buck gasps.

“I know,” Eddie growls, and god, the scent that’s rolling off of him is absolutely insane—rich and smoky and fucking delicious, sweetened by the sizzling edge of arousal.

Buck tugs him closer. “I want—“

“I know.”

Eddie pulls back a hairsbreadth; his chest is heaving, his pupils surrounded by a thin ring of lovely ruby red. Buck feels his own eyes flash gold in response, his hindbrain purring yes, alpha, please, mine, please.

“I—“ Eddie’s eyes drop back to his mouth. Then he tears himself away, staggering back until he’s put several feet of space between their bodies. Buck misses his warmth like a lost fucking limb. “I gotta— Chris. A bag for Chris.”

Buck forces himself to stay flat against the wall; it honestly might be easier to hold back the tide.

“Chris,” he agrees, because Chris. “But… hurry?”

“I’ll be as quick as I can,” Eddie promises. “Just hold on for me, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Everything’s gone all hazy and distorted, broad strokes that all run and melt together like a watercolor. He feels a little floaty, feels a little drunk, almost—drunk on the sound of Eddie’s voice in his ear, of his scent in his nose and his mark on his throat—and the heat bubbling inside of him settles reluctantly into a low simmer.

From somewhere far away, Eddie’s voice repeats, “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” he sighs.

———

Buck drifts—for seconds or minutes or maybe for hours—tethered to his body but existing somewhere outside of it, when something nudges at the edge of his consciousness.

“—ck? Buck. Buck. Evan.”

Buck blinks, then blinks again, and the world comes back into sharp, angular focus.

“Oh. Hi,” he murmurs, slurring his words just a little. “All done?”

“All done,” Eddie confirms, because Eddie’s standing in front of him again, one hand curled around his shoulder, solid and grounding. “You still hanging on for me? I thought I lost you for a second.”

He frowns, searching his face like he’s surprised to find Buck right where he left him, then continues, “You didn’t have to— You could’ve at least sat down.”

“It’s— You told me to wait for you,” Buck explains, a little helplessly. “You told me to stay.”

Eddie inhales sharply.

“Jesus, Buck,” he rumbles. His hand tightens around Buck’s shoulder, his eyes deep and dark, and that decadent smell of rich-cocoa-spice teases at his nose once again. “I’m gonna have my hands full with you, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, probably,” Buck admits, lowering his gaze. “So, uh, sorry in advance, I guess—“

“Don’t be sorry,” Eddie says, almost an order. “There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

“It’s my heat,” Buck explains, or tries to. His head is starting to swim again, his tongue heavy in his mouth. “It makes me all…”

Eddie’s hand slides up his neck to cup around his jaw, his thumb sweeping over his cheek. Buck can’t help but nuzzle into the touch, lashes fluttering.

“Dropped you like a sack of bricks, huh, querido?” Eddie says in that same, rumbling voice.

Buck feels himself flush, honey-thick desire seeping through his veins. Instead of searching for any more words, he just nods.

“Okay,” Eddie says. “Hey, look at me.”

Buck’s eyes dart up immediately.

“Thank you for telling me. For trusting me with this.”

Buck doesn’t know what to do with the praise, doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He shifts on his feet, then stammers, “It’s— I mean, it’s you, Eds. I’d trust you with anything.”

Eddie’s eyes shade even darker.

“We should—“ Eddie stops, waits a beat, lets out a slow, deliberate breath. “Let’s move this to the living room, yeah? We should probably talk before we go any further.”

Buck’s stomach lurches like he’s missed a step coming down the stairs, anxiety and anticipation twisting him up inside. He manages an attempt at a jerky nod and Eddie’s hand curls around his wrist, coaxing him away from the wall and out of the kitchen.

He settles gingerly into one corner of the couch, fingers digging into his thighs. Eddie settles next to him—close, but not nearly close enough, but also way too close, actually, the phantom heat of his body just enough to tease at him—and the weight of his gaze is like a physical thing, unrelenting and inescapable.

He bites his lip, trying desperately not to squirm.

“Buck,” Eddie says after several long moments of silence, and he shouldn’t be allowed to sound like that, all whiskey smooth with just a hint of growl. “Sweetheart, come here.”

Buck’s on him in an instant, tucking himself under Eddie’s arm and curling as close as he can.

“Sorry,” he manages, sucking in these huge, gasping lungfuls of Eddie’s scent. “I know we need to have an actual conversation, but I genuinely cannot think about anything except how much I need you to be touching me.”

“No reason we can’t do both,” Eddie says, shifting them around until they’re reclined back against the cushions, their legs tangled together. “It’s not exactly a hardship to get my hands on you, Buckley.”

“Eddie,” Buck whines, thin and needy, tucking his face against his throat. “You can’t just— I’m holding on by a thread here, man.”

“We’ll make this quick, then,” Eddie determines, tugging him closer. “Just tell me how I can make this good for you. Whatever you want, whatever you need from me, it’s yours.”

“That’s a dangerous offer to make,” Buck points out, keeping his voice light. “You sure you know what you’re getting into? I might ask for too much.”

“Not sure there’s any such thing,” Eddie says easily.

Buck thwaps him lightly across the chest. “I’m being serious.”

“Who says I’m not?”

“Eddie.”

“Evan.”

And god, the way his tongue curls around his name has his heart skipping several beats in his chest.

He’s still searching for something—anything—to say in response when Eddie’s hand slides up to cup around the nape of his neck, urging him back just enough so that they can look at each other.

“Hey,” Eddie murmurs, and he’s so stupidly, painfully handsome that it makes his whole body throb. “It’s just me. It’s just us. All you have to do is let me take care of you.”

“But—“

“Tell me,” he commands gently, “what you want.”

“You,” Buck chokes out. “Just you, Eds. Whatever you’ll give me.”

“And what if I want to give you everything?” Eddie asks. “What if I want to be the one that gets to hold you, that gets to fall asleep next to you every night and wake up with you every morning? What if I want to lay you out and work you open until you’re trembling on my fingers, gasping for it, begging me to fuck you? What if I want to keep you?” Eddie pauses then, like he isn’t cradling Buck’s still-beating heart in his hands. Slowly, he finishes, “What if I want to love you?”

“Eddie,” Buck breathes, an impossible hope blooming in his chest.

“Is that something you’d be interested in?” Eddie asks, steady as ever, holding his gaze.

“You— You’re serious?” Buck asks. “You really…?”

He doesn’t get any further than that, but Eddie just smiles at him like he makes perfect sense, his expression wondrously soft.

“I really,” he confirms. “More than anything.”

“Please,” Buck whispers. He can’t say it any louder—he feels like he’ll shatter into a thousand pieces if he tries. “Eddie, please.”

Eddie’s eyes fall to his lips.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, so perfectly goddamn considerate, and Buck can’t take it anymore.

He lurches forward and slots their mouths together in a frantic kiss.

And Jesus fucking Christ.

Because Eddie doesn’t just kiss him back. No, Eddie captures his mouth like he owns it—like he’d staked his claim a long while back and is only just now collecting his due. And Buck’s more than happy to let him, leaning into every touch, reveling in the feeling of fingers in his hair and nails scratching at his scalp, aching to be plundered and conquered.

Eddie nips at his lip, then fucks into his mouth with his tongue, teasing at his soft palate until Buck is making these needy little whimpers, his hips twitching helplessly. The arousal buzzing under his skin is stoking itself into a roaring inferno, refusing to be suppressed any longer.

As if sensing the change—the sudden, runaway train inevitability of his heat—Eddie’s hands slip up under the back of his shirt, caressing his overheated skin, then splaying wide and possessive over the small of his back. Buck moans against his mouth, every nerve ending alight with sensation, and the noise he makes when Eddie ducks his head to suck a bruise into the space under his jaw is high and thin, eager and wanting.

“Dios mio,” Eddie mutters, sounding almost as riled as Buck feels, and he grabs for his hips, pulling at him until he’s straddling him, one knee on either side of him.

And fuck, it’s good. He settles into Eddie’s lap, arching into the firm press of Eddie’s dick against his ass, grinding his own erection against Eddie’s stomach, and oh fucking fuck.

Eddie shoves his face against the curve of Buck’s neck as their hips rock together, sparks dancing up his spine.

“God, I want you so fucking bad,” he growls.

“Then have me,” Buck says, pulling him back in, their mouths sliding together, hot and slick. “Eddie—“

“Smell so fucking good,” Eddie mutters against his lips, wrenching Buck’s t-shirt over his head and tossing it away. “Bet you taste even better.”

He lavishes kisses all along Buck’s collarbones, teeth dragging over the hollow of his throat. Then he ducks his head, trailing a path of bites and bruises over his chest, swirls his tongue around one of Buck’s nipples, before taking it gently between his teeth and tugging.

“Eddie,” he gasps, clutching at the back of Eddie’s head. “Eddie, oh, fuck—“

There’s something wild—something primal and possessive—about the way Eddie’s touching him. It’s there in the sting of his teeth and the strength of his grip, in the way his scent smolders off his skin, the rough bite of his voice, and Jesus Christ he’s so wet he’s sopping with it, wet and leaking from tip to tail.

“You drive me insane,” Eddie says, switching over to heap the same attention—torture—on the other side, his mouth hot and wet. Buck whimpers, hips twitching and thighs trembling. “Looking at me with those big blue eyes, moaning my name like it’s your favorite fucking word—“

Eddie’s hands slip lower, kneading at his ass for a brief, greedy moment, then using the leverage to pull Buck down into Eddie's next grind up, dragging their hips together, hard and slow and filthy. Buck chokes on another aching, hungry little noise, not sure if he wants to squirm or writhe or maybe just beg.

But Eddie makes the decision for him: his grip tightens to something closer to bruising, rocking them through another toe-curling thrust, and oh.

Oh, oh, oh, ohohohoh—

“Eddie,” Buck mewls—sobs, almost—scrabbling at his shoulders for purchase, unmoored in a sea of pleasure. “I— I’m—“

“Come on, Buck,” Eddie urges, his expression ravenous as they rut wildly against each other, careening head-first towards that perfect peak. “Just like this, baby, I’m right there with you. Let me see how pretty you look when you come.”

And Buck can’t do anything but obey. Bliss crashes over him like a tidal wave and his hips jerk as his cock pulses, hot and sticky in his pants. Eddie groans, low and guttural, and follows him right off the ledge, his breath hot and damp over his skin as he sags against him.

“Holy shit,” Buck swears when he figures out how to string the words together, slumping against Eddie’s chest. The sweet release of his orgasm has him feeling loose limbed and a little fuzzy, and he nuzzles in to tuck his nose under Eddie’s chin, all but purring at the delicious scent of pleased, preening alpha wafting off of him. “I think you might’ve killed me.”

“Better not have,” Eddie replies, curling an arm over his sweaty back and trailing his fingers over the ridges of his spine. “‘Cause I’m nowhere near done with you yet, Buckley.”

“Oh, yeah?” Buck says, leaning in for a long, lingering kiss. “Gonna show me a good time, Diaz?”

“Said I was gonna take care of you, didn’t I?” Eddie rumbles, nosing at his jawline. “And I like to think I’m a man of my word.”

“Big talk,” Buck teases, already a little breathless with anticipation for round two. His skin is buzzing, that flame of desire building once again, pooling low in his belly. “Sure you can put your money where your mouth is?”

“How about we move this to the bedroom,” Eddie offers, arching an eyebrow in challenge, that smug motherfucker. “And I’ll show you exactly where I can put my mouth.”

“And what if,” Buck starts, pitching his voice somewhere low and husky, reaching up to let his knuckles graze over the swell of Eddie’s Adam’s apple, then lacing his fingers together behind the nape of his neck, arching his back and pouting just so. “I want you to rail me right here on your couch.”

Eddie smirks up at him like he knows exactly what he’s doing, his eyes half-lidded and heavy. It’s fucking delightful.

“Maybe later,” he says, taking him by the chin and drawing him into another syrupy kiss. Buck’s eyes flutter shut, melting into his touch. “The first time I fuck you, it’s going to be in a bed.”

“Guess I should’ve figured you’d be a traditional kind of guy.”

“Well, yeah,” Eddie admits easily. “And there’s the fact that I’ve been imagining what you’d look like, flushed and panting, splayed out across my sheets, begging for my knot, for years now.” Another wicked smirk. Buck can’t look away, utterly entranced. “Pretty sure my imagination won’t hold a candle to the real thing.”

“You— We need— Bed,” Buck finally manages, his voice nearly trembling with want. “Now, Eddie. Or I’m gonna fucking tackle you.”

It’s an honest miracle that they make it to Eddie’s room in one piece. They’re still tangled up in each other, mouths moving frantically as they peel each other out of their sticky, sweaty clothes, leaving them strewn about like a trail of breadcrumbs as they stumble down the hall.

A few more steps and a brief struggle with the doorknob. Eddie grabs him around the waist and walks him backwards until his legs hit the mattress, and Buck falls back onto it with a soft thwump. Eddie clambers on top of him, blanketing his body with his own, and that sudden, full-body press of bare skin against bare skin makes something in his brain pop and sizzle like a blown fuse.

“Eddie, Eddie,” Buck gasps, feeling like he’s shot straight past skin-hungry into skin-starving.

He curls his fingers around Eddie’s biceps, then slides his hands down the tanned, muscular expanse of his back, needing to map out every inch of him. He wants to lick him all over, wants to trace his tattoos with his tongue until he knows each one as well as he knows his own.

“Fuck, Eddie, please—“

Eddie settles down into the cradle of his thighs and leans in to capture his mouth once again. They kiss and kiss and kiss, hardly parting to breathe, neither willing to abandon the plush heat of the other’s mouth.

“Eddie.“

“I know, baby, I’ve got you,” Eddie says, nipping sharply at his lower lip, the sting of it just sweet enough to savor. “I’m not gonna keep you waiting.”

“Touch me,” he pleads, squirming restlessly. He’s hot all over, that flush of desire prickling at his skin, so hard—so empty—that he can hardly think straight. “Eddie—“

Eddie shifts up and around until he’s plastered against Buck’s flank, holding himself up with a forearm braced above Buck’s head. He trails his free hand down Buck’s chest, over the wings of his ribs and across his stomach, then fits his hand under Buck’s knee and gently eases his legs apart.

“Jesus, Buck,” Eddie groans, dragging two fingers through the mess of slick coating his thighs, the touch just barely ghosting over his aching hole. “You’re so wet for me, querido.”

“For you,” Buck promises, looking at him from under his lashes, craning up just enough to drag the flat of his tongue over the twin scars on each of Eddie’s shoulders. “‘S all for you.”

Eddie lets out a low string of swears, grabbing a fistful of Buck’s hair and tugging him into another heated kiss. “You’re an absolute menace.”

“Your menace,” Buck says, mouthing at the sharp line of his collarbone.

Eddie’s eyes flash, the hunger smoldering in his gaze sparking into a proper blaze, and Buck can feel the length of him pressed against his hip, hot and heavy and perfect.

“But you know when to be good for me,” he murmurs, something sharp and predatory prowling behind the rasp in his voice. “Don’t you?”

Mother of God.

“Yes,” Buck whimpers. “Yes, yes. I’ll be so fucking— Oh, fuck.”

Eddie finally, finally presses two fingers to the throbbing, slick-drenched rim of his entrance, and fucks them knuckle-deep inside of him.

Buck moans, arching shamelessly into the sensation. Eddie’s fingers feel so much better than his own—the angle and the stretch and the fact that it’s Eddie, it’s Eddie that holding him down and fucking him open, Eddie that’s giving him everything he’s been dreaming of since forever—and his cock twitches against his stomach, wet and leaking.

And it’s not like Buck actually needs that much prep, really, but Eddie keeps his thrusts nice and slow, exploring the wet heat of him like he has all the time in the world. He twists his wrist and scissors his fingers, kissing at the side of his throat, and Buck whines and whimpers, shivering all over with how badly he wants it.

“Eddie,” he says. He can’t get enough air into his lungs, his vision fuzzing at the edges. “Need you.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Eddie says, crooking his fingers just so, dragging another whine past Buck’s lips. “But I’m not done here with you yet.”

“Need it so bad,” Buck insists, canting his hips up, trying to draw him deeper. “Eddie, I’m— I’m ready, I need it, please, please, give it to me—“

Eddie pulls out and presses in, just a hair faster, then fucks a third finger into him. Buck’s voice breaks around a moan. He clings to Eddie’s shoulders, hips jerking against open air, searching for friction, for more.

“Gorgeous, desperate thing,” Eddie murmurs, his voice low and rough against the shell of his ear. “Begging so sweetly for me. God, I could take you apart just like this.”

“Eddie.”

“You said you’d let me take care of you,” Eddie reminds him, his fingertips dancing against his prostate. Buck’s thighs shake, pressure coiling deep inside. “Let me take care of you.”

He feels like he’s trapped in a wildfire—like there’s an unending wall of flames bearing down on him, everything washed in a haze of pleasure—and he realizes far too late that he’s about to come on Eddie’s fingers.

“Oh, fuck,” he keens, his chest heaving. “You’re gonna make me— I’m— I’m gonna— Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Eddie starts targeting his prostate like it’s his fucking job, utterly relentless, his eyes fixed on Buck’s face, on his open, panting mouth, and Buck couldn’t hold on if he tried. He shakes and shudders his way through a spine-melting orgasm, his eyes rolling back into his head as he falls to pieces in Eddie’s arms.

Eddie holds him through it all, his touch turning gentle as he fingers him through the last of the aftershocks. He presses a kiss to his temple, to his cheek, then to the corner of his mouth, nuzzling in close. “Good boy.”

Then he rolls him onto all fours, grabs him by the hips, and sinks his cock into him in one long thrust.

A broken, ragged, wrecked little noise punches its way out of Buck’s throat. He falls down onto his elbows, already overwhelmed, fingers clenched in the bed sheets as he scrabbles for something, anything, to hold on to.

Eddie fucks him hard and fast: like he knows instinctively just how Buck needs it, how he needs his knot like he needs the blood in his veins. The bed frame rattles underneath them, creaking in protest with every thrust, and it’s hard to tell what’s louder: the slick smack of skin against skin or Buck’s mewling cries.

“Feel so fucking good,” he groans, working an arm underneath Buck’s sweaty torso and hauling him up against his chest, grinding in deep. The new angle has every nerve in his body going off like fireworks, burning through him with every heartbeat. “So perfect for me, always so—“

Eddie trails off, panting against his throat.

His mouth drags over his skin as he searches for new places to tease, the rich, spiced-chocolate-sweet of him clouding the air. It coils all around them, melding perfectly with Buck’s own scent as he nips and licks at his pulse point, strong enough to fill his nose, coat his tongue, sink into his skin, and god he wants it like he’s never wanted anything.

Wants to be claimed. Wants to be owned.

“Alpha,” Buck whimpers, the word almost falling out of his mouth, and Eddie’s hips jerk, his rhythm faltering as he swears. “Alpha, please.”

“Mine,” Eddie growls, deep and guttural and possessive. He reaches around, grabs Buck’s thigh, hoists it up to wrap back around his waist. Buck’s whole body turns liquid, his voice breaking around a sob. “My omega.”

“Yours,” Buck agrees. He hardly has the breath to beg with. “Eddie, I’m— I’ve always been yours.”

“You’re gonna come for me,” Eddie orders, his knot starting to catch against his rim with every stroke, sending zips of lightning flashing behind Buck’s eyes. “Gonna come on my knot, aren’t you, baby? Hermoso, guapisimo, luz de mi vida, come on, come on—“

Eddie’s hands clamp down like vices, his hips snap forward, sharp, and that’s all it takes to fling Buck into the abyss, pleasure and release flooding through him like a sonic blast. Eddie manages another handful of sloppy thrusts, then he’s following right after him, his knot locking deep inside as Buck’s body milks him for every last drop.

Buck comes back to himself nestled in a sweaty heap of limbs. He turns instinctively towards where Eddie’s spooned up behind him and inhales, smiling sleepily when he catches the smoky, smothered-embers scent of satisfied, exhausted alpha.

“You back with me, Buck?” Eddie asks, trailing gentle fingers over his cheekbone. “How’re you feeling?”

“‘M great,” Buck decides, sinking blissfully into his hold. He’s pretty sure he could spend the rest of his life like this, wrapped up in everything that is Eddie Diaz. “‘M… perfect.”

Eddie chuckles against his shoulder, low and throaty and wonderful. “Good to hear.”

“Wha’ about you?”

Eddie’s arms curl around his chest, pulling him that much closer. Their bodies fit together like a matched set. “Never better.”

00000

@summerofbuddie

#911 abc #buddie #*editor's note #*the writing desk #*final cut #Buck cannot keep Eddie’s name out of his mouth and I love that for him

11 notes · View notes

try-set-me-on-fire · 1 year

Note

‘this is my husband/wife/girlfriend/boyfriend/partner etc.’ for soft fic prompts?

Send me soft fic prompts! Read the rest here!

Heather would say she's not having a great day. Sure, her and Tracy hadn't been on the most stable ground lately, but coming home from the San Francisco office to a two page (both sides!) handwritten letter full of incredibly beautiful prose that more or less boiled down to it’s not you, it’s me was still a shock. And, you know, maybe she had been spending too much time crunching for work, but she’d been trying to make senior art director for years and when she’d finally got the promotion she wanted to make sure the studio didn’t regret it. The studio who, 15 minutes after the whole ‘getting dumped, epistolary style’, called to tell her the promotion had been unpromotioned. Two steps, unpromotioned, actually, seeing as they were “taking the project in a new direction” and “felt she would be better suited to a support role rather than leadership.” And, you know, Heather thinks of herself as a relatively laid back person, she’s chill, she’s calm and collected, but after four straight months of 6 day work weeks pulling overtime almost every night she thought she deserved a face to face goddamn explanation for all of this, so she had climbed right back into the subaru she’d driven all night in and took off towards Burbank.

She’d made it three exits past her apartment when some asshole in a truck too big for him to control had swerved into her.

At least someone's already called 911, judging by the emergency vehicles pulling up, and this was a rental car paid for with company dime, so she doesn't even have to stress about it being crumpled up like a tin can. There's a tap on the window frame (the glass is gone, she hadn't even noticed) and she startles, peering out at the platonic ideal of a hot guy she might have described to friends as her "type" when she was sixteen and still trying to be straight. Ruffled dark hair, warm eyes, a kind look on his face. She can't see his arms under his firefighter coat, but she bets they're jacked.

"Hi," the apparition says. "My name's Eddie Diaz. Are you in any pain?"

"Uh," Heather says, trying to take stock. "Mostly shaky, I think."

He nods, shining a flashlight in her eyes. "Can you wiggle your fingers for me? How 'bout your toes?"

"Eyes and ears and mouth and nose," she sing songs as she does so, and Eddie Diaz has the good grace to laugh.

"Alright, you're a little scraped up but I don't think you have a concussion. Can you tell me your name, the date, and where we are?"

"Heather Pantry, July 23rd, the 5 somewhere near Atwater."

"Pantry?" Eddie quirks an eyebrow as he examines the car around her.

"Hand to god," she says, used to the double take. "From the proud Pantry line of middle of nowhere Massachusetts."

"Well, good to meet you Ms. Pantry. I have to go get-" Eddie straightens up and waved someone over. "Honey, can you stay with her? I'm gonna grab the jaws and some bandages."

Eddie steps away and a new man crouches in his place. He's blondish, has a red birthmark splotched above his eye, and is grinning cheerfully. "Hey, we're gonna get you out of here in no time."

"I bet you got shit from other kids about your name too, huh?" She smiles at him in commiseration, and then confusion as he looks at her questioningly. "Oh, you didn't hear- I'm Heather Pantry. And you're Honey, right? Food names."

His face stays puzzled for a second before he laughs. "Ah, no." He jabs a thumb in the direction Eddie walked. "I'm married to that guy." He says it proudly, and his grin gets somehow more cheerful.

"Oh, shit, sorry," she says as he flaps an understanding hand.

"Don't worry about it, just don't let our colleagues know he used a pet name at work or we'll never hear the end of it. My name's Buck Diaz." He holds out a hand.

She mimes a zipper over her mouth as she shakes it. Multi tasking! Take that, potential concussion! Her eye catches on his name tag as he pulls away and she frowns. Aw no, concussion. "Why does that say…"

Buck looks down at the letters. "Ah, right. Well, I took Eddie's name when I got married, but my- everyone calls me Buck, has for ages, but it's a nickname from my old last name, and I didn't want to be Evan Diaz with no tie to that, so I changed my first name too, because Evan just isn't really my name anymore. But," he gestures down at the name tag, and then over his shoulder at the back of his jacket. "The names on our turnouts are one of the ways we find each other in low visibility, and how we might be initially identified if something, uh, goes wrong, and everyone rejected my perfectly good idea of being labeled 'Diaz 1' and 'Diaz 2' so… I was born Evan Buckley, my legal name is Buck Diaz, my work name is Buckley, sometimes people call me Buckaroo, and Chimney says they should just start sending me out to explain all that as the new concussion protocol."

"Chimney?"

"You'd fit right in around here, Pantry. You looking for a career change?"

"Hah," she says. "The LAFD looking to recruit failed art directors who can't maintain a good relationship with the best girl they've ever known?"

Buck grimaces in sympathy. "You've had a rough day."

"I've certainly had better." She looks at her shit thrown all about the car, feeling a little pathetic, and then back at Buck. If something goes wrong… "Is it hard, working together? Do you- I mean, either of you could get hurt at any time. It's gotta be hard knowing that, or- seeing that. Being there."

Buck's smile turns a little rueful, and he looks back towards the firetruck for a moment. "Yeah… we've had our fair share of close calls." He laughs, though there's not much humor in it, and starts holding up fingers. "Eddie's been crushed in a collapsed well 40 feet underground, and he got shot standing two feet in front of me, and there was the whole thing with the freeway collapse - which is how we got together, actually - and I've been crushed under a firetruck, was on the pier with our kid when the tsunami hit, and I got struck by lightning." He does a little jazz hand. "I died for three minutes."

"And seventeen seconds," comes Eddie's quiet voice. He's standing there with the supplies, looking down at Buck, something too steps more sad than a frown on his face.

Buck looks up at him, eyes intense, smile small. "And seventeen seconds," he corrects, and then looks back at Heather with both eyebrows up. "I don't recommend it!"

"I'll do my best to not get deceased."

“But I think…” Buck looks thoughtful as he stands to let his husband press gauze to cuts Heather didn’t know she had. “I’d rather be here, than not. I want to be by Eddie’s side, even and especially when things are hard, and to, uh,” he laughs a private laugh, bumps his elbow with Eddie’s. “To have his back, like I know he has mine.” Together, they work the jaws into the door and finally wrench it open with a terrible metallic screech. “And anyway, some of that stuff happened while I wasn’t even at work, so bad things can happen at any time. I want to… know I had the chance to do something about it, when they do.”

Both of the men reach in to help Heather, moving around each other so easily, so familiar. Her eyes sting a little, and she could blame it on the scrapes but she’s thinking of Tracy singing while she does the dishes. She sniffs a little as Buck holds her elbow. “Wasn’t… the tsunami years before the freeway collapse? You guys had a son already?”

They make eye contact over her head (jesus, they’re tall, is that a firefighter requirement?) and Eddie laughs first but Buck really cracks up.

“We may have done things a little out of order,” Eddie says, loud enough to be heard over Buck’s guffaws. His eyes are crinkled up. “Let’s get you to the ambulance, Ms. Pantry.”

She’s handed over to other paramedics, who go through a more thorough checklist than Eddie’s field triage. She’s paying attention to the questions, she is, but the ambulance doors are still open and she sees Eddie in the shade of the fire truck look around before pulling Buck close, a hand gentle on his cheek. He kisses him, and they’re pretty far away but she thinks the small smile on his face is probably visible from Saturn.

The doors close, and she’s carted off towards Cedars-Sinai where as soon as she’s cleared to leave she’ll find the gift shop and buy a notepad, a get well soon card, a coloring book- anything she can write on. She has a letter to send.

#eddie diaz #buddie #evan buckley #911 fox #my writing

127 notes · View notes

thesrctsoftheuniverse · 23 days

Text

so over the weekend (literally two days) i watched 16 of the 18 episodes of season 3....... so here's my thoughts!!!!

i've already professed my love for the characters more than enough but i just need to remind everyone that i am sosososo in love with all these fucking characters, what a truly insanely likeable lineup of different personalities

eddie getting buck to babysit chris so he stops being stuck in a depressive spiral.... genius

the earthquake episodes last season were insane, but the tsunami disaster?????? off the charts. the scenes with buck and chris were fucking beautiful, i love this duo and need more of them NOW. buck cares about that kid so goddamn much. and while tired and injured he saves idk how many more people. the way him and chris are fighting for their lives and then buck is desperately looking for chris all while eddie thinks they're completely safe. eddie was freaking out last season because his son was stuck in a school, but he was calm during this disaster because he was with BUCK. it makes me so emotional. im sosososo glad that i had seen the outcome of chris being found before watching the episode bc idk how people who didnt know that beforehand could handle it. the scene with eddie finding buck with chris' glasses???? im going to start crying. and after all of that for buck being so sure eddie wouldnt trust him anymore only for him to drop off chris again like its nothing?? im going to sob

from what i have read online the lawsuit storyline is a very divisive topic in the fandom. i kind of see both sides. i can see that buck thought his hands were tied and that the only family he had was replacing him. but i know at the same time that it's an overreaction. bobby didnt have any reason to have buck stay on leave for that long when chimney proudly proclaims he went back to work after only a couple of weeks. i understand that bobby cares about buck like a son somewhat, but he was not being fair. buck also shows that he didn't really want to cause as much hurt and friction between them by apologising again and again and not even thinking about accepting the money, going back to the 118 even though he knew they were going to make it difficult for him. it was a tricky situation, but im glad they moved on from it fairly quickly.

the fight club eddie storyline is kind of wild????? also did he ever get any reporcussions from bobby for that??? men will literally do anything but talk about their issues and deal with their feelings. what an insanely gay thing to do.

love eddies conversation with bobby where he starts crying. eddie should cry more often (i say this with love)

lena im in love with you, do you like women?

chris' english teacher is sooooooooooooooooooooooooooo beautiful

i truly love seeing athena and her family grow and change over time. the relationship between bobby and michael is so important to me. i love them together. and michael's tumor storyline??? heartbreaking.

love albert!

chimney and maddie i love you two soso much you deserve the world, youre so imporant to me. chimney respecting maddies boundaries no matter what.... im gonna cry (A BABY?????????)

the episode of 911 dispatch being taken over might just be one of the best episodes of the series. i especially loved that we got to see characters that other times didnt get as much screentime. LOVE LOVE LOVE JOSH!!!

the athena begins episode is heartbreaking. and beautiful. the closure at the end, with her telling emmet's mother that they made an arrest. how beautiful. really well done. she never gave up on finding that man.

the eddie begins episode is also beautiful. him cutting the fucking rope???? idk how they want me to believe that he swam to safety but whatever..... anyways he loves chris so much and we got to see more of his and shannon's marriage which i loved. to be fair, he was kind of a shitty father and definitely a shitty husband, shannon was clearly not ok and i understand why she left. doesnt make it right, but i understand it. when he gets stuck underground and buck starts losing his mind, screaming, crying, throwing up and bobby gives him /that/ look. oh kill me now. that man was gonna dig by hand .... i love them.

the episode of buck helping that old veteran feel important and not alone at the end of his life? im going to start crying again. buck truly believes that no one will ever love him or choose him or stay with him forever.

michael talking to harry about what being black means when they encounter police was incredibly moving and heartbreaking. but also important. i just love athena's family.

hen hitting that cello girl with the ambulance...... oh i cried so hard, my heart broke for her. karen and her are so amazing together i love them so much, they truly are each other's rock.

i love the buckley siblings. i love the side characters. i love the main characters. i have so many thoughts.

abby....i understand that she had to get away from everything to find herself ok? but she shoudlve just texted or sent a letter to buck just to give him closure and not let him keep haunting her apartment. i dont like them as a couple, this shit has clearly hurt buck deeply and will not be easy for him to get over. she didnt really seem all to apologetic either at the end. i get it but also why did u have to hurt buck by not ever responding and ghosting him????

got so many funny and beautiful scenes this season, it was amazing!!! truly loved every character. it had that gay ass buddie kitchen scene... lol

but anyways....im already done with two episdoes of season 4 so bye

#911 abc #911 show #911 season 3 #911 season three #athena grant #bobby nash #evan buck buckely #henrietta wilson #howard chimney han #eddie diaz

18 notes · View notes

crowleysgirl67 · 3 months

Text

Do More (Buck x Reader x Eddie)

Author: @crowleysgirl67

Word Count: 811

Parings/Characters: Buck x Reader x Eddie, the 118, Maddie, Jee, Christopher, Carla

Warnings: AU, loosely based on the epi Buck gets struck by lightning, Angst, Bi!Buck, Bi!Eddie, A/N: Thanks for reading!

“Got it! We’ll do our best!” the doc says as they wheel Buck away.

“Do More!” Eddie calls after them. He runs his hand through his hair, trying to keep his panic at bay. He’d already lost Shannon, he couldn’t lose his best-friend, one of the loves of his life as well.

Footsteps running down the hall cause him to turn to see you racing through the corridor. You’d been on shift when you’d gotten the call about one of your boyfriends being hurt.

“Eddie!”

“(Y/N)!” he reached out and pulled you into a hug as you skidded to a stop in front of him.

“I’m here baby. What happened?” you held him as he gripped you tightly.

Bobby gave you the rundown as Eddie held onto you. He wasn’t in the right shape to tell you everything. You took a sharp breath in, causing Eddie to hold onto you a little tighter.

“He’ll be ok.” you whispered, kissing Eddie's head. Of course you knew you couldn’t guarantee it, but you needed to have faith and stay strong for Eddie.

Eddie always tried so hard to be strong for everyone else. Always trying to live up to expectations, even at the expense of himself. With the help of a therapist, Buck and yourself, he’d been able to start taking care of himself and what he needed. He’d come out as bi (as did Buck), and started dating you and Buck. You’d gone to bat, albeit probably overboard, when his religious parents had tried to make remarks about it. They’d backed down pretty quickly when you’d threatened the army of lawyers you had due to being a trust fund baby. They wouldn’t have been able to win and it would cost them a relationship with Christopher. You didn’t care if they accepted Eddie's choice, as long as they were respectful and didn’t say anything about them despite their dislike you wouldn’t have a problem.

“Come on.” you coax him gently. “We can’t stay here in front of the ambulance bay.”

He straightens out but keeps your hand in his as you lead him and the others to the waiting room. The room was full of worry and mostly silence, only broken when more people showed up. When Maddie arrived, you peeled yourself away from Eddie.

“I’m gonna go check on him ok? I’ll be right back.” you kissed Eddie softly in reassurance, before leaving down the hall in search of where they were working on Buck.

“How’re you holding up?” Maddie asked softly as she sat down next to Eddie after handing Jee off to Chimney.

“I should ask you the same thing. He’s your brother.” Eddie deflected the question.

“He’s your boyfriend. The relations are different, doesn’t mean we love him, or worry about him any less.” she counters.

Eddie sighs, he hated how well she could do that. “I’m scared,” he admitted.

“Me too.”

“Dad!”

Eddie’s head shot up at Christopher's voice. He was walking in with Carla.

“Christopher!” Eddie stood up.

He takes the time to explain to Chris what was going on.

“Buck’s gonna be ok right?”

“I hope so, Bud.” he kissed his head as he spotted you rounding the corner with another doctor. He could tell it wasn’t as good of news as he’d hoped, by the look on your face.

“What’s the verdict?” Bobby asks, taking control of the room.

“He’s alive.” you started, watching everyone breathe sighs of relief.

“But…” Maddie trails off.

“But he’s in a coma.” you finish, allowing your colleague to take over the explanations as you go to Eddie and Christophers sides. You held onto Chris with one arm and Eddie's hand with the other. He was trying to process, and it was going to take a minute.

While everyone else took turns going in and seeing Buck, you waited with your boys until Eddie felt ready. You explained to Christopher about how Buck was going to look with all the tubes and wires that were helping him. When Eddie was ready, or ready enough, the three of you went to see Buck.

After Chris was done you led him back out to Carla so she could take him home. It gave Eddie some alone time with Buck, which you could tell he needed.

“Ok sweetheart. Dad and I will be home in a little while ok?” you smoothed his hair back and kissed his forehead. “Thank you for bringing him Carla.” you gave her a quick hug.

“Of course darlin.” she hugs you back before taking Chris home.

Once they were gone you went back to check on Eddie. He was sitting beside Buck’s bed and holding his hand. Coming up behind him you placed your hand on his shoulder. It was going to be a long road ahead but no matter what you’d get through it together.

#911 #buck x reader x eddie #911 fanfic

13 notes · View notes

doeeyeseddie · 3 years

Note

🐙 29. from the 50 types of kisses prompt list if it is still open :)

Also wanted to say that I am always excited when I see that you have written something new 🌸

thank you so much, that makes me really happy! i hope you like this one too <3

29. Staring at each other’s lips for a moment before moving closer, as if drawn together by some unseen force

[read on ao3]

It’s late.

Usually, Eddie would start gathering Christopher’s things now, urging his son to say goodbye to Buck because he knows it can take a while to separate the two of them.

Tonight, though, Christopher isn’t here and Eddie has had one beer too many to drive himself home. He’s not drunk, and neither is Buck, but they’re both relaxed and sinking too deep into the couch to think about moving now.

Buck’s knee is digging into Eddie’s thigh, but it’s not uncomfortable. He can’t remember moving closer to Buck, or Buck moving at all, but throughout this movie, they’ve somehow ended up so close that all Buck had to do was let his legs fall open a little bit wider for his knee to press against Eddie. And instead of giving him more space, Eddie pressed back.

He’s not sure what they’re doing, but he hasn’t been able to focus on the movie for 20 minutes now, his eyes more or less stuck to Buck’s right leg.

It’s been a while since they’ve hung out like this, just the two of them with no Christopher in the middle. It’s been even longer since Eddie slept over at Buck’s loft, not since the early days of the pandemic, when they quarantined together. He already knows Buck will offer, though.

And, “You’re staying, right?” Buck asks without taking his eyes off the TV.

“I could call an Uber,” Eddie offers, and Buck finally looks at him, eyebrows drawn.

“Yeah, or you could stay. You wouldn’t have to leave your truck behind and I’ll make breakfast tomorrow.”

Eddie grins. “But you could save yourself the trouble of making up the couch.”

“I could do that too if you’d just sleep in my bed.” Eddie feels his eyes widen, the point where Buck’s knee touches his thigh suddenly red hot. Buck clears his throat. “I mean, we did it for weeks not too long ago. I don’t…I don’t mind.”

It’s true that they shared Buck’s bed during quarantine, leaving the couch for Chimney. That wasn’t even two years ago, and yet it feels like everything has changed since then.

He and Buck have kept this distance between them for weeks now, months, ever since Buck moved out and things returned to “normal” after the worst part of Eddie’s recovery. It’s not intentional from Eddie’s side, or at least it wasn’t in the beginning, but the way they’ve been gravitating together all night is a reminder of why he usually keeps it up when they’re not working.

He doesn’t know what he’s gonna do if they sleep in the same bed. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if Buck touches any other part of him.

“Eddie,” Buck says, and there’s something in his voice that makes Eddie look up.

When their eyes meet, Eddie has to swallow harshly at the emotion he finds there. Buck is in pain, and Eddie feels completely helpless against it.

“What happened to us?” Buck asks, and Eddie has to look away. “We can’t keep...everything is wrong, Eddie, and we need to stop pretending that everything is fine. I’m not fine, and I know you aren’t either.”

“Buck,” Eddie starts, but he still can’t look at Buck.

“We need to talk about this, Eddie. All of it. You nearly died, multiple times, and we never talk about it. You told me about your will and then we just brushed it under the rug. I can still taste...I remember the day you got shot in every single excruciating detail and I just, I can’t-” His voice breaks, and Eddie shudders.

I can still taste...Taste what? The image of Buck’s face splattered with Eddie’s blood flashes through Eddie’s mind, and his stomach drops when he understands.

Buck’s knee is still pressed against his thigh and Eddie shifts, pulling one leg up on the couch so he’s facing Buck, even though he can’t quite bring himself to look at him yet.

“I know,” he whispers. “I know we have to talk, but...I’m scared.”

Buck grabs his hand and Eddie shudders again. It feels like Buck is pulling him back in from somewhere he’s floated away to, untethered and lost.

“So am I. I’m terrified all the time.”

“When did this become so hard?” Eddie is shaking, but Buck’s still holding his hand and he’s shaking too, gripping Eddie’s fingers tightly.

“I don’t know. And I want to help you, but I don’t know what you need.”

“I don’t know either,” Eddie admits. “I just want…”

“What?” Buck asks when he trails off. “What do you want? I’ll do anything-”

“You,” Eddie breathes, and he didn’t want to say it but he can’t keep it in any longer anymore either. Buck stills.

“What?”

Eddie tries pulling his hand from Buck’s, but Buck’s grip only gets tighter.

“I’m a mess,” he says. “We both are, I shouldn’t have said-”

“Shut up,” Buck says, and Eddie snaps his mouth shut. “So what if we’re both messed up. How drunk are you right now?”

“I’m...not?” Eddie looks over at the empty beer bottles on the couch table and thinks that he feels more drunk off Buck’s touch than the beers he’s had. “I could probably still drive.”

“Did you mean it?”

Eddie lifts his head slowly, tracking the way Buck’s throat moves as he swallows, the small white indentations his teeth make in his pink bottom lip, the careful hope in his eyes, the way he blinks slowly, mesmerisingly.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, eyes pulled down to Buck’s mouth again when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Yeah, I mean it.”

He darts his eyes back up to Buck’s to see his reaction and finds them trained to his own mouth. Eddie licks his lips and can’t help glancing down at Buck’s again, trembling with how much he wants to close the distance between them.

They shouldn’t, he knows there is too much they haven’t talked about, too much he still has to figure out, but it feels like now that they’ve breached most of the distance between them, they’re two magnets about to snap together.

“Eddie,” Buck says again, quietly, and swipes his thumb across the knuckles of Eddie’s hand he’s still holding, touch achingly soft.

Eddie sways forward and Buck’s lips part on a sigh. Eddie has spent months fighting to keep it together, and he just...doesn’t have any fight left in him.

He gives in to the pull and closes the last of the space between them, cradling Buck’s cheek. Buck pushes into the touch, his free hand grabbing onto the collar of Eddie’s shirt and pulling. Eddie looks away from Buck’s mouth for one second and sees Buck’s eyes close, sees the blissful expression on Buck’s face, and decides that they have time to talk later.

And when he kisses Buck, he feels tethered again for the first time in a long time.

#i didn't intend to make this angsty at all but it just happened #buddie #911fic #buddie fic #911 #pia writes #pia's 1k follower celebration #ask #anon

184 notes · View notes

tripleaxeldiaz · 3 years

Text

when you come home, i’d lift you up

read on ao3

It’s dark. Eddie never really wanted to end up in the dark like this again.

It reminds him of the other times — the damp darkness of the well, the weightless black of the in-between he was stuck in after getting shot. But it’s also worse, because it’s compounded on top of those times to make it suffocating. Before, he knew there were ways out. Before, he wanted to fight, like he always did, like he promised he always would. But now, he can’t remember what’s waiting for him in the light. Faint images of glasses and curly brown hair and birthmarks and crooked smiles, but none of it enough to pull him out this time. All he knows is nothingness. It feels like all he’s ever known.

There’s a jolt, and he’s briefly brought back to his body, enough to remember the power going out, the hospital, and that he decided to take the elevator because the stairs were on the other side of the floor. It’s worse now, somehow, because the darkness is still suffocating, but now it has physical confines. Four walls, a floor, and a ceiling that can’t be pushed through with his hands or force of will. He’s not stuck, he’s trapped, and he’s sweating and his hands are shaking and he swears he hears his heartbeat echoing around him.

But his heartbeat gets louder and louder, and he realizes it’s not a heartbeat at all — it’s footsteps. Quick, heavy footsteps heading his way. They skid to a stop outside the elevator door, and a voice he’d recognize anywhere — in the blackest dark or the brightest white — carries through and lights him up, just a bit.

“Eddie? Eddie, are you in there? Are you okay?”

He swallows his panic enough to let “Buck?” fall from his lips, soft and shattered.

“I’m right here, Eds.” He shouts something else but it’s muffled, far away, like he’s projecting away from the door. “Are you hurt?”

Deep breath, focus. Take stock of yourself. He quickly scans from head to toe, flexing muscles and wigging limbs. “I’m fine. Think I twisted my ankle, but nothing’s broken.”

“Good, great, okay.” More shouting and far away footsteps. “We— we need jaws and some extra hands to get you out but they’re on their way, okay? I promise we’ll get to you soon.”

Ice crashes through him again. “Are you— can— please don’t—” The air suddenly feels too thin, too close to his skin and not enough in his lungs.

“Eds?”

“Please don’t leave me.”

He’d feel pathetic asking any other time, but they’d been in each other’s orbits more than ever the past few months, and not having Buck in his line of sight for this long is making him itchy, jittery nerves mixing with unwavering panic in an unpleasant cocktail. It had felt selfish, at first, always taking up Buck’s offers to stay over and cook and help with Chris, but the one time — the only time — he’d tried to say no, to give Buck a break, he’d looked so wrecked that it just confirmed for him that all the volunteering was as much for Buck’s sake as it was for Eddie’s.

Call it weird, call it codependent, but this is the longest they’ve been apart in months, and on top of everything else happening at the moment, Eddie’s not sure how much longer he can handle it.

Luckily, he hears the squeak of fabric against the door as, he assumes, Buck slides down to sit. “I’m not going anywhere,” Buck says, softly as he can to still be heard through the door. “I promise, I’m not gonna leave you.”

The nerves subside a fraction, only to remind Eddie that it’s still dark and he’s still trapped. He swallows and nods even though Buck can’t see him. “Thank you.”

“Always.”

Buck’s radio crackles to life, probably Bobby checking in, but Eddie can’t quite make out what he’s saying. Buck's response is quiet, muffled a bit too, like he turned away from the door again so Eddie couldn’t hear. “Cap, I’d really rather stay here, if that’s okay. He needs me.”

A tangle of relief and guilt crashes through him, because he does need Buck, but he hates that needing Buck means keeping him from the job.

He must have gotten an affirmative, though, because his voice comes back to it’s normal, still muffled volume. “Okay, everyone’s on their way, just a little bit longer. How you holding up?”

“Fine,” Eddie says, cursing the tremble in his voice.

Buck definitely clocks it, too. “Eddie, come on.”

Eddie takes a breath that catches all the way in and out. “It’s dark,” he says quietly, weighed down in his throat by shame. “The emergency lights don’t work in here.”

Buck whispers something under his breath, probably a curse. There’s tapping and scraping along the door for a minute. “I can’t— there’s really nowhere for me to get light in.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie says, taking another, smoother breath. “I’ll be alright.”

“You will be. I’m making sure of that.” His radio crackles again, another quick, murmured conversation Eddie can’t hear. “Hey,” he says once the radio clicks off, “we’re having a day Saturday, right? Tell me the plan, what does Chris want to do?”

He’s stalling, Eddie can tell. There’s been a delay, Eddie’s going to be in this box for God knows how long, and Buck is trying to get Eddie to talk about Chris to keep him calm. He sees right through it, but he’s also immensely grateful, because really no one but Buck would try something so obvious with him and actually have it work.

“That traveling food exhibit at the science center,” he says. “Apparently they have samples of very smelly cheese he’s going to dare you to try.”

“He knows I’m always up for a challenge,” Buck says, and Eddie knows for a fact he’s smiling. “What else? Dinner?”

“That taco place off 41st, if you think you’ll be up for it.”

“No amount of bad cheese can keep me from tacos.” Buck says it so seriously it actually startles a laugh out of Eddie. Clearly, the panic hadn’t weighed everything down. Or Buck being here really was lightening the load.

“And then what? Game night? Movie night?”

“Probably both,” Eddie says, because he knows his son, and he knows he’ll figure out how to squeeze everything in. “He’s gotten really good at Clue, though, so prepare to lose.”

“As long as I get to be Professor Plum, I don’t mind.”

“And you’ll stay?” He already knows the answer — it hasn’t changed in almost six months — but he’s currently still shrouded in darkness and fear, and he just wants to know for sure.

“I’ll stay, Eds. Of course I will,” Buck says with a solemnity that might be too much for something so trivial, but it loosens the vice on Eddie’s ribs enough to breathe properly. He’s pretty sure Buck isn’t talking about just staying the night.

Before he can finish fully processing that, or the way it warms him from head to toe like he’s been injected with sunshine, there’s unfamiliar loud voices and thumps outside the door. “Okay, Eds, cavalry’s here,” Buck says. “Can you back up from the door for me? It’s gonna get loud.”

Eddie’s already sitting against the back wall, but he makes himself as flat as possible as the team starts to work. There’s sparks and screeching metal and the whole elevator box rattles so hard Eddie’s teeth knock together. The dark shifts around him, like it’s trying to swallow him whole while it still has the chance.

Finally, salvation: Eddie’s blinded momentarily by the bop-and-weave streaks from various headlights, but when his eyes adjust, Buck is there, lit from behind and reaching down to him like a literal guardian angel, his smile brighter than any man made light could even attempt to manage. Eddie returns it, and he knows it’s tired and probably a little dopey with relief, but he can’t bring himself to care.

Getting up is hard — his ankle hurts a little more than he originally thought — but he hobbles to the elevator door and takes Buck’s hand, lets himself be pulled out to safety, to light, the weight of panic finally dissolving around him. He lands on his knees and falls into Buck’s chest and doesn’t try to move, lets himself melt into Buck, his familiar warmth and scent and life. Buck melts too, arms wrapping around Eddie’s shoulders, forehead resting on the crown of his head. They stay like that, and Eddie breathes enough of Buck in that the darkness quickly feels like a distant memory, even though they’re still technically in a blackout.

“Thank you,” he whispers, arms wrapping around Buck’s waist, refusing to let go. “Not— not just for this, for everything with me and Chris and—”

“Hey, hey,” Buck breathes into Eddie’s hair, “I told you, I’m not going anywhere. I’m here, as long as you need me.”

Forever. I think I need you forever.

Eddie just pulls him closer and holds on tight as the last of the dark fades from his mind.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fox #buddie fic #911 fic #we're MANIFESTING #ficcery

248 notes · View notes

libraryofloveletters · 3 years

Note

Buck coming to 51 and seeing the way you look at Kelly Severide, a look of love you never gave him + “What do you want?”

celebration post // prompt 55: “what do you want?”

---

Chicago wasn't somewhere Buck found himself often, he had passed through once or twice while trying to find himself but he never stayed more than a day or two. When Chimney proposed to Maddie, he and Albert started planning the bachelor party right away and Albert had mentioned how his brother wanted to take a trip to Chicago so here they were.

Albert had set them up on some sort of pub crawl even though it was a little past 2 in the afternoon. They had done the responsible thing and ate before - Bobby had made breakfast for all of them before heading out. He decided he was gonna do some venturing of his own, visit some friends and skip the whole pub crawl. Which left Buck, Albert, Eddie, Chim and Hen (you can't tell me Hen wouldn't be his best man so of course she's there.) to walk the streets of Chicago.

They had all noticed the fire station, the big letters on the side of the building reading ‘Chicago Fire Department - Station 51′ as they walked by. It wasn't until they almost passed the driveway that Buck heard something he had heard in years. Your laugh had always been one of his favourite sounds and he knew it from anywhere - especially when it carried the way it did, it was impossible not to recognize it. “Is that-” Hen glances at Buck, he nods. “I think so. Should we go say hi?” He asks them, Chim was already halfway up the driveway with Albert running after him. “Who’s that?” he can hear Albert ask his brother.

When Buck walked up the driveway with Eddie and Hen, you were hugging Chim and congratulating him on his wedding. He introduced you to Albert when you spotted Hen and Eddie, you ran over to give them a hug. You really did miss all of them, even Buck who you had an awkward hug with. Kelly came out when you were talking to them, his arms wrapping themselves over your shoulder, pulling you back to his chest as he rested his chin on your head. You turn, glancing at the man with a smile on your face. Buck noticed the look of love on your face and couldn't help but think that you never looked at him like that. “Everyone, this is Lieutenant Kelly Severide and also my boyfriend but that’s an after fact.” you joke, earning yourself a little nudge from Kelly. “Kel, this is my team from LA- Eddie, Hen, Chim, his brother Albert and Buck.” you pointed them all. “It's nice to meet you all.” Kelly smiled.

The alarm went off, the dispatchers voice coming through. “Squad 3- vehicular accident, Halstead and Main.” Kelly kissed your head before running off. “We should head out too.” Chim smiled, hugging you once more. You said goodbye to everyone and Buck was last, he stood across from you, staring at you. “What do you want Buckley ?” you looked at him, a small smile playing on your lips - you only called him Buckley when he was being weird. Buck shook his head, “nothing, I'm just glad you're happy.” “I am, I hope you are too.” you pull him in for a hug, holding him for a second longer than you should. Buck finally lets go, walking down the driveway to catch up with the others - both of you feeling a hint of sadness as you let go of each other once again.

#evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #2.1k with anj

67 notes · View notes

lover-of-mine · 3 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/lover-of-mine/754841294841495552/this-is-a-question-for-lw-or-gg-but-did-anyone

gg here

so about that you need to understand who her his

for what it’s worth could gather she is someone who didn’t even get one like before she was anonymous if you check the response to the buddie post and to the bt post you will see that now she is like super famous

she is a mother, in her 40s, unhappy with her real life who stay online and harass people just because she fells seen and appreciated she is the cult leader if she say something than people will take it for the only truth

she was the one theorizing first tommy having bad parents and then one of her “friends” paid lou for that cameo where he said that exact same things so she got super famous

then she got a little problem when she got actively racist on twt and some of her acolytes left her and blocked her because she pushed too far so she apologized and left twt for tumblr but then just three days later she was already on twt again being racist

she was called out for being a buddie shipper she responded saying that she posted buddie until september 2022 but her last post was dated 15 march 2024 so even a pathological liar

then she faked being hacked because the only things this hacker did was writing a buddie post and dm a 19yo girl to which she seek revenge but that was the day in which ryan said in that interview that eddie put buck in shannon spot

then we have the first screen happened after tim shared the 19 min video about buck’s bisexuality where the invisible string was abundantly mentioned but when they wrote to him about this theory he said that he didn’t knew confirming that he didn’t watch the video at all but she was so quick to share this ss then when tim answered to another dm he said that he answers to people out of politeness and to acknowledge them but he never really read what they wrote him and her response was saying that she is in possession of some s8 spoiler about buddie that will break our hearts and later she posted on her tumblr saying that she can’t believe that we still hope for buddie when bt will say i love you during 8b and in the group chats people are saying that she told them this information comes from tim himself

Darling, I need to tell you, I was in the middle of getting coffee and legit sat down with my little mug. Dude, this is WILD. It just keeps going. The thing that gets me the most is the buddie thing that will break our hearts? Because I'm gonna be honest, if I'm an anti and I'm sitting on information that can kill the other side, I would drop it so fast. I would be posting all the screenshots. But anyway, damn. I don't even have anything to add. This is next level.

#oh wow #911 #i really need a tag for asks #anon 😌#gossip girl anon #spy network

19 notes · View notes

livesincerely · 2 months

Text

But now? Now, riding in the back of the ambulance, flushed and sweaty and painfully empty, his teeth clenched against the overwhelming heat sizzling just under his skin?

Now, when Eddie’s holding him close, a hand curled protectively around his hip as he murmured assurances against his hair, his head tucked against Eddie’s shoulder and his lips pressed to his pulse?

It’s hard not to read too much into things, is all he’s saying.

It’s hard not to hope.

But after an agonizingly long journey, they finally roll to a stop.

“Buck,” Eddie prompts when neither of them move. “You still with me?”

“Yeah,” Buck manages, rising on shaky legs. “‘M with you.”

Before he can take a single step, Eddie’s there, steadying him with an arm around his waist. He helps him climb out of the ambulance, then together, they hobble up the drive.

“Need a hand?” Buck offers, all but collapsing against the far wall—he’s pretty sure if he sits back down, he won’t be able to get back up.

Eddie just looks at him: a familiar mix of fond and exasperated.

“Do I need a hand from the guy who can’t even stand up on his own?” Eddie wonders, in the driest voice imaginable. “Somehow, I think I’ll manage.”

“Smartass,” Buck pouts. “I was just asking.”

“And I’m just telling you, I’ve got it,” Eddie replies. “Pull up a chair before you pass out, idiot.”

“I’m fine.”

The Look only intensifies.

“I’m fine enough,” Buck concedes. “You know, I think there’s still a load of laundry in the dryer, I could just—“

“Or, maybe,” Eddie cuts in firmly, flattening his palm over Buck’s sternum to hold him in place. Buck’s heartbeat kicks into double time. “You could stay here and let me handle it. I know self-preservation and taking it easy goes against the very nature of your being—“

“Hey!”

“Is just…?” Buck murmurs hoarsely.

Eddie takes another step forward, caging him against the wall. His eyes trail over him, lingering on Buck’s mouth for a long moment before dropping lower, his nostrils flaring.

“Smell like you’re aching for it,” Eddie says, and there’s a rasp to his voice that sends a thrill of heat sparking up his spine.

And what is Buck supposed to do except want him?

His throat works, his mouth painfully dry. “Eddie.”

Their eyes meet again, the scant space between them buzzing like an electric charge.

They breathe together for one second, two seconds. Then Eddie threads a hand through Buck’s hair and tips his head to the side, exposing the vulnerable line of his throat.

Buck just barely manages to choke back a whine. His hands clench and flex uselessly at his sides, then somehow find their way to Eddie’s hips: a wordless plea, urging him on, begging for his touch.

“Eddie,” Buck gasps.

“I know,” Eddie growls, and god, the scent that’s rolling off of him is absolutely insane—rich and smoky and fucking delicious, sweetened by the sizzling edge of arousal.

Buck tugs him closer. “I want—“

“I know.”

“I—“ Eddie’s eyes drop back to his mouth and he sways ever so slightly forward. Then he tears himself away, putting several feet of space between their bodies. Buck misses his warmth like a lost fucking limb. “I gotta— Chris. A bag for Chris.”

Buck forces himself to stay flat against the wall; it honestly might be easier to hold back the tide.

“Chris,” he agrees, because Chris. “But… you’ll come back?”

“I’ll be as quick as I can,” Eddie promises. “Just hold on for me, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Everything’s gone all hazy and distorted, broad strokes that all run and melt together like a watercolor. He feels a little floaty, feels a little drunk, almost—drunk on the sound of Eddie’s voice in his ear, of his scent in his nose and his mark on his throat—the heat bubbling inside him settling reluctantly into a low simmer.

From somewhere far away, Eddie’s voice repeats, “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” he breathes.

#911 abc #buddie #buddie fic #*editor's note #*the writing desk #bits & bobs #the amount of rewrites this has gone through so far is insane #and the number will only grow #but I hope you enjoy this preview of what’s to come!

9 notes · View notes

creativeashproductions · 4 years

Text

Streetdogs and Chest Compressions // Evan Buckley

IN WHICH: Reader reconnected with her estranged younger brother in the cruelest of ways as the 118 is called the scene of three young men suffering after eating streetdogs. Unfortunately, this is how Buck meets the future brother in law he had no clue even existed.

Warnings: Swearing, family problems (aka estranged), withholding personal information, angst, medical emergency, and fluff

Words: 4.7k

A/N: This fic is a crossover between Julie and the Phantoms and 9-1-1 in which Luke, Reggie and Alex eat the streetdogs in modern times. Don’t worry, someone still dies. Reader’s nickname is Spitfire

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

It seemed Los Angeles was taking pity on the 118 with not even a single fire to be put out or medical needed. It was slow. Painfully slow, and you weren't even halfway through the twenty-four-hour shift. Hen and Chimney had taken the circular table for a card game, Bobby was reading a new cookbook. Eddie's Abuela had brought Christopher to the firehouse for his online schooling, the Diaz's wifi was malfunctioning. Buck and you had snuck off the bunk room to catch some sleep.

"Lazy movie day?" Buck asked with his arms tightly wound around your hips. Your form almost rested entirely on his front due to the narrow bunk.

"Wouldn't have it any other way." You replied to the content man underneath you. You could only hum as he shifted to kiss the top of your head, "Now shh. I want to slee-"

The bell sounded before you could even finish your sentence, "And what I didn't want to happen just had to spite me."

Buck and you hurried to quickly pull on your turnout gear before hopping into the respective seats you used. Eddie across from you, Buck driving with Bobby in the Captain seat. Hen and Chimney in the ambulance tailing you.

"We have three males in their late teens. Ate hotdogs in an alley before collapsing in the process." Bobby informed his team all the while he watched the road, "One is profusely puking, one's unconscious, and the last one is stable."

"Thinking it's food poisoning? That sudden?" Buck inquired with a swift glance from his position of driving. Bobby shrugged in response just as Buck eased the fire truck to a half near a crowded alley.

You were the first one out of the firetruck with your medical bag and halfway to the alley before the team could get out.

"Make some room!" You shouted among the heavily populated area, curious about the medical emergency.

Everything slowed down as you pushed between the last two people into something you called your worst nightmare. Three teenage individuals settled on their sides in unconscious states had been a fixture in your youth. Your eyes stayed pinned on the prone figure of your little brother.

It was like being underwater. Nothing could be heard, and it felt like you were in the process of drowning. It was the first time seeing Luke since you stormed out of your family home back when you were eighteen years old.

It was the same old unchanging story playing for months now with only the new addition of an audience. It was the middle of a blistering summer in Los Angeles, but it was the most heated in the Patterson household. You'd been at the movies with your best friends while your mother, Emily, was putting your laundry away.

Emily's hand had bumped your dresser by accident in her process of closing your socks drawer. The Patterson matriarch and her husband would never invade their children's rooms, but her keen eye had noticed the pamphlet; nothing serious like teen pregnancy but it was surprising.

Emily was holding a recruitment pamphlet for the Los Angeles Fire Department marked with your handwriting. Her heart dropped in sync with the front door slamming shut.

"I'm home!" You called out from the entrance. You didn't hear as your mother wandered into the open space. Her eyes flaring in both anger and fear; when a person is scared, they lash out.

That's what Emily did.

"What is this?"

Your eyes found the item in her hand that genuinely made your blood freeze in your veins. This was not how you'd wanted her to find out about your career decision.

"I'm applying. I graduated high school, and hopefully, I'll be train-"

"Like hell, you will! You're going to college and getting a real job! This won't take you anywhere Y/N Y/M/N Patterson!" Emily snapped just as Mitch came through the back door with your ten-year-old brother Luke.

"What's going on?" Mitch questioned as soon as he felt the tension between mother and daughter. Luke was quiet amongst the adults speaking.

"Your daughter isn't going to college. She's going to be a firefighter.

"Spitfire?"

A smooth hand startled you with the clap on your shoulder and Hen looking at you, "Are you okay?"

"I-" You shakily attempted to speak but alas had to be gently settled on the ground before you keeled over and hurt yourself. Your uniform, long sleeves this time, felt constricting as the guilt nearly swallowed you whole.

"Hey, Cap? I think I know why those three are like that." Buck called out from a sketchy grill by an even sketchier condiments table. The table being a rusted Oldsmobile manned by a greasy dude and his girl.

Even from a distance, you could smell the chemicals wafting off the unsanitary set up that would put a health inspector in a casket.

"One's waking up!" Chimney spoke from the slump of pink and denim fabric. A curtain of blonde '90s style hair mussed on his head.

"Look, Y/N, I need you to dig deep to help these three boys. They have long lives ahead of them and need our A-game." Hen spoke with her hands, already checking one of the teens for broken bones.

Your eyes closed with a deep breath before you moved towards the boy on the other side. Eddie shifted to allow you room to check him over.

"Strong pulse. Breathing is good." You clinically informed your team, "Eddie can-"

"What happened?" The gruff voice spoke from behind you. As expected, Alex's voice had deepened in the years you'd gone without seeing Luke or his friends.

"You got this one?" You asked Eddie without waiting for a response; you were by Chim's side with a soft smile. Alex's eyes widened momentarily, "Hey Alex."

"Y/N?" Alex nearly gasped in shock. His shock seemed contagious as your entire team from the 118 caught it, "What's going on?"

"You ate some bad hotdogs and needed our help. We're gonna get you to the hospital. I'm worried you ingested battery acid." You spoke, understanding that Alex would prefer details instead of the lack thereof. Even from an early age, he'd been anxious.

"Oh. Are the guys okay?" Alex softly asked with his eye blinking as a strand of his blonde hair caught in his eyelashes. You slowly nodded in response without really knowing the status of Reggie and Luke.

"Eddie, Buck, can you get him loaded in the ambulance?" You called over your shoulder once you'd finished your thorough examination of Alex. The sound of boots on the hard ground appeared before they appeared.

Eddie and Buck swiftly loaded him on a gurney, but Alex's eyes widened, "Why are there two hot guys touching me? Oh my god. Do you see the cute guys too?"

You snickered as Alex's failed attempt at a stage whisper, "Yes. Alex."

"I've been blessed as a gay man." Alex breathed with a cute little grin plastered on his face, "Maybe I should eat more streetdogs-"

"NO!" Eddie, Buck, and you collectively shouted in response to Alex's delirious comment. He was loaded into the ambulance beside Reggie's gurney.

"I'm gonna jump in with the other guy in the ambulance." You quickly informed your boyfriend and Eddie. Each shared a look before Eddie slammed his fist on the back of this ambulance. It rolled away, and you jogged to the one Hen was driving.

Buck was there giving you a hand into the back of the ambulance with one of the other paramedics. You couldn't meet his eye when you were staring at the unconscious but thankfully alive body of your little brother. Your eyes couldn't be pulled away even as the ambulance started driving away.

Buck momentarily stared after the leaving vehicle until it turned a corner leaving him with his crew and questions. Eddie kept by Buck's side on the return to the firetruck in unusual silence. It wasn't often that Buck was quiet.

"What do you think that was about?" Eddie inquired as the truck pulled onto the street to follow the ambulances to the hospital, "Y/N knew the conscious one-"

"-and the one in the ambulance she jumped in. Kept staring at him like he'd disappear out of her sight." Buck supplied, staring out the window to the passing buildings. His blue eyes are unable to focus on the looks Bobby was sending.

Bobby attempted to bring Buck into a conversation, but each attempt was a failure. Neither Bobby nor Eddie knew how to make him feel better or why he was feeling off.

Whereas you kept a hawk-eye on your brother's stats the entirety of the drive. The ambulance had only just entered the parking lot when his stats dropped. A long beep sounded, alerting you that Luke's heart had stopped.

"Goddamnit." You swore as you started leaning over Luke to start compressions. In order to continue compressions, you clambered into the gurney as the back doors opened.

"Hold compressions!" Eddie exclaimed once, seeing the situation, "No pulse."

You continued even as the gurney entered the hospital, and a doctor was there, "We got it."

You did as the doctor had subtly implied by climbing off the gurney, leaving the medical professionals to continue. You followed your brother's unconscious body to the surprise of the 118; you had never tried to follow the patient. It was more of Buck's issue.

"Y/N, our job ends here. You know that." Bobby spoke with Hen, Chimney, Eddie and Buck flanking his sides. Your e/c eyes shifted between the brown of your Captain's eyes and the blue of your boyfriend's eyes.

"It doesn't end when I just did compressions on my little brother." You informed him, "Write me up. Suspend me if you want, but I need to be in there."

Bobby's eyes softened, "Your shift is almost over. Just come in early on your next shift; you can make breakfast."

"Thanks, Bobby." You softly informed the man who'd become both your boss and a pseudo father. He only nodded in response with your friends beside him with different expressions, "I should get in there."

Without waiting for another response, you'd already entered the ER through the ambulance bay sliding doors. You went straight to the nursing desk with sure steps.

"Hi, I was in the ambulance that brought in a young male teenager. Shaggy brunette hair, caucasian. He was in a separate ambulance from his two friends." You spoke once the head nurse had turned his attention to you, "He was getting compressions on his way in. Name Luke Patterson."

"Are you asking as a paramedic?" Jude questioned with his fingers tapping the keys of the computer.

"No. He's my brother." You sighed, bringing the sympathetic brown eyes of Jude to look at you. The look changed a degree when he read the sentences on the screen.

"Are you aware your brother ran away from home? There's a social worker on her way."

Your jaw dropped in surprise, "Ran away? He ran away?!"

Jude flinched at the screech of words you accidentally released to both your and Jude's horror in the quiet ER. Jude turned the screen to show a digital missing person's poster with your brother's face on it.

"He's awake." Jude supplied, having deciphered and guessed correctly you'd gone a while without seeing your brother, "I'm off shift now, but I can bring you to him. I'll let the social worker know."

The nerves grew each step closer to the room your brother was stationed in for the time being with Reggie for comfort in the neighbouring bed. Part of you wished Luke would be asleep to avoid the confrontation about to happen. Only Luke's hazel eyes turned to see him in his pause of puking.

"Hey." You softly breathed into the quiet room. Luke's breath caught in his throat, "You ran away?"

"Guess we're more alike than we thought. We both run when it gets tough." Luke's words were all snark and poison to your heart. His hazel eyes glaring into your own eyes with anger that covered up the pain, "Hope this is just a delirious episode."

Your eyes squeezed closer, "Luke-"

"What? Are you gonna apologize for abandoning me? The only reason you're reaching out is that you happened to be the medic!"

You could physically feel your heart clench, "No. I tried reaching out. Mom and dad don't answer the phone. You didn't have a phone, and like hell, they'd give me the number either. The letters and-"

"Excuse me? Ms. Patterson." Both Luke and your attention shifted the entrance. A well put together woman stood with a clipboard, "I'm Beth. A social worker and I'm afraid you aren't allowed to speak with Luke alone."

"I'm his sister."

"Barely." Luke hissed, avoiding looking at you by looking over at Reggie, "I'd like to be alone."

"I can respect that. Here's my number if you need anything, Luke. Seriously, night or day, I'll answer. I know how it was living in that house, but you have someone to run to. Me." You firmly told the stubborn teenager, "Listen to Beth. You can't live on the streets Luke, it's not fair to you or anyone else. I'll ask my friend to keep an eye on you."

Had you not noticed Luke's jaw clenching, you'd have thought he hadn't heard you, "Whatever."

"Beth, have Reggie or Alex's parents come yet?"

Beth nodded, "I'm not supposed to reveal that, but yes Mr and Mrs Peters are talking to the doctor. Alex was moved into a room. They'll all make a full recovery."

You cast one last look at your little brother curled up in the hospital bed, a stark similarity to the night you returned home, only for your things.

It wasn't an accident you chose to return to your childhood home on Thursday night with the schedule on the fridge memorized. Every second Thursday, your mom attended the PTA meetings for Luke's school. Your father would be home but most likely asleep in his recliner, but if he was awake, it wouldn't be bad.

Your father was more lenient than your mother, even if he shared the same mentality.

"I was wondering when you'd come back," Mitch spoke from his recliner with the side table holding his drink. A glass of your mom's homemade lemonade, "Your mom-"

"I'm not staying." You firmly spoke on your way to the hallways where the bedrooms were positioned. You could hear the soft steps of your father's well-worn slippers.

"What?"

"Look, Dad, you can't leave the house, but I can. I'm not staying in this place with her stifling ideas. This is my life. Just because she decided to be a stay at home, mom doesn't mean she gets to make my decisions and live through me." You informed the man while shoving clothing, items, toiletries, among other things, in the suitcase.

"Y/N, firstly, that is not how to speak about your mother. She sacrificed to take care of this family. Luke looks up at you, don't give him a bad impression of our family."

"No."

"If you walk out that door without apologizing, then you are not welcome back until you do so." Mitch's voice came out in that fatherly authoritarian tone. The no-nonsense look in his eye nailing the coffin in your decision.

"I'm not apologizing for choosing a career of helping other people. Of being a step for someone to live and not die. So what if it's not a teacher, a lawyer or some other bullshit 'acceptable' career. I love you, dad. I love mom too and Luke. But I'm not subjecting myself to a desk job with no drive in it."

"Where will you stay?"

"I have a place. I'll call to talk with Luke. I won't 'poison' his mind with ill thoughts of mom. But I won't lie to him either."

Mitch was stock still as you glanced into the bedroom next to your childhood bedroom. Luke's room was still decorated with spaceships and stuffed animals. Your eyes watched the rising of Luke's back as he breathed from his curled up position.

You couldn't help but walk to kneel at his side. Your hand brushed his soft hair from his forehead. You drank in the look of pure content and innocence on his sleeping face.

"Y/N?" Luke mumbled with his bleary eyes blinking, "You're home."

"I have to head out. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Okay," Luke spoke mere seconds before his breathing evened out once more.

That was the last night you'd been in the home. Luke sat next to the landline phone the next night, waiting for a call that never came. Your parents had unhooked the line. Luke sat on a stool beside it for weeks before his hopes soured.

If only you'd known leaving your parents would mean souring your relationship with your brother. Than maybe you would have reached out for his benefit and your self-proclaiming selfishness

"Thought you'd need a ride," Buck spoke from his position leaning against the wall still in his uniform. There was definitely a new tension in the air between you and him, "We'll grab our things from the house than go home."

"Thank you." You softly spoke to Buck. The weight of keeping your family secret dragged your shoulders down. You couldn't help but wonder if this was gonna cause a fracture in your relationship.

"No matter what. I'll always be here." Buck told you with his arms coming to wrap around your shoulders. He led you through the ER, you'd waved at the shocked parents of both Alex and Reggie, "Who-"

"Luke's friends' parents."

"Okay, so your family lives just outside of the city in Los Felix?"

"Feliz. They live in Los Feliz, from what I know. I haven't been back since I was eighteen." You chuckled, "I want to stress that my parents are abusive or neglectful. Not even bad, but my mom had this idea of what my life should be like."

Buck hummed with his right arm around your waist, and his left casually balanced on his outstretched leg. A bottle of beer loosely gripped in his left hand.

"How old is Luke?"

"He'll be eighteen in August. When I left, he was ten." You mused, leaning into Buck's side, "I think that's why Maddie and I get along so well. We're both big sisters with a significant age gap to our brother."

Buck hummed, "Why did you keep it from me?"

"It hurt. It still hurts just thinking about it. They unhooked the landline the night after I went back for my things." You recalled the agony at having an olive branch snapped off, "I promised to call Luke, and I wasn't able to; they'd disconnected the landline. Imagining the look of hurt on Luke's face was enough to keep me from physically reaching out."

"I wish you had trusted me." Buck finally admitted with the last swig of his beer in the middle of his words, "We're engaged. We're looking at houses, but you never told me about your parents. About your brother. Above your life before the 118."

"Buck. I trust you with my life." You urgently informed the firefighter. Your hands cupped his cheeks to ensure his eyes focused on yours. You wanted him to see the truth, "You are the most important piece of my life. You and the 118 made me feel at home from the moment I joined. Buck, you are my family."

That look courtesy of his parents' actions faded ever so slightly from his eyes, "You guys are my family too."

"I'd like you to meet my little brother when we can reconcile." You announced into the cool summer night. Your drink had been long gone in the process of working through seeing your brother again, "I never thought I'd see him as a patient I'd have to help. Seeing him pale and unconscious nearly destroyed me."

"But he made it."

"He texted me 'didn't die' with the rock 'n roll hand emoji." You deadpanned, recalling the emotional two days for news. You were kinda shocked that Luke had even reached out at all.

Buck couldn't have successfully hidden his laugh if you weren't currently leaning against his body.

"So Albert found an apartment. He won't be moving with us." Buck changed the subject with the same ease he'd always held at knowing you. This was just another one of the moments you were thankful for having him by your side.

"So now there's not a reason to search for a bigger house?" You questioned with a crease between your eyebrows.

In the last two years, several significant changes have been impacting all areas of your life, especially the personal aspect. Buck had proposed during a picnic hike about a year ago with the mutual agreement for a long engagement; his parents didn't believe it was for anything other than pregnancy. Additionally, working in the same firehouse made planning difficult and then your apartment lease bringing the conversation of houses.

Originally Albert would rent part of the home out, so it needed at least three bedrooms.

"I mean, we don't have to not look. We've talked about children and settling down." Buck softly offered with a hesitant smile on his face, "I wanted to talk to you about it, but do you think we could talk about a possible time to start trying-"

"Y/N?"

The two adults went on high alert as Luke wandered into the gated garden your apartment building had. Buck's arm slid off your body as soon as you climbed to your feet at the sight of Luke.

"Luke?" You softly gasped, revelling in the sight of your little brother. Physically he looked fine with the addition of bloodshot eyes, "What's wrong?"

"I-I didn't have anywhere else to go." Luke choked out, sliding the battered old backpack off his shoulder onto the duffle at his feet. Luke's hazel eyes glimmering in the setting sun, "I got into a fight with mom and dad."

"Please tell me you didn't run away again." You heavily sighed in your movement to grab his backpack from the ground. Buck was quick to grab the duffle bag from the ground.

"I'll get the air mattress. Let Albert know not to bring his date home." Buck murmured in your ear low enough only you could hear, "I'll heat up the leftover Chinese."

The Patterson siblings watched as Buck entered the opening to the back of the building's secured backyard. Luke's backpack slung over his shoulder, and the duffle in his right hand.

"How did you find where I live?" You asked the emotionally seventeen-year-old with those puppy dog eyes. The eyes with the colour you wished you had inherited instead of your e/c.

"I saw 118 on the inside of the ambulance. I found the firehouse, and after procuring 'evidence', one of the paramedics told me where to find you." Luke shrugged, "I would have gone to Bobby's garage we use as a studio, but...he bailed on us. Reggie tries to get away from his place, and Alex's are assholes."

"The Peters are still married?" You scoffed, recalling the tense moments between little Reggie's parents. A cloud followed the couple around everywhere they went together, and Reggie was always caught in the middle.

"If-if this overstepping, I can find another place-" Luke began to respond on the walk down the inside hall to your apartment door.

"And make my struggle with the cursed object redundant?" Buck joked from the kitchen with a plate filled with warmed up food. Maybe the universe had a plan when Buck accidently over-ordered food from the restaurant.

"Luke, just stay here. You can have something to eat and rest up. But we need to talk about this. Running away is never a solution to your problems." Your stern voice reminded you of your mother when you broke the rules, "You need to let mom and dad know you're crashing at my place. They don't know my address."

"We got your back." Buck cemented to the quiet teenage boy that he saw a lot of himself in. A little kid living in the shadow left by an older sibling, only Luke's still lived.

"Oh!" You exclaimed with a shake of your head, "I'm sorry. Buck, this is my little brother Luke. Luke, this is Evan, my fiance."

Luke's eyes widened at the title, "Hi."

"Everyone calls me Buck."

Buck, Luke, and you shared stories of your lives in the times you'd gone without each other while Luke ate. By the time he shovelled the last bite of chow mein in his mouth, you'd caught up enough for the time being. He used the shower and settled into the air mattress sheets on the floor a fair distance from the couch Albert slept on.

"So I guess we'll be finding that house anyway?" Buck inquired under the stream of water from the showerhead. His hands massaging the shampoo into your scalp, the action intimate without a sexual motive behind it.

"How-"

"I could see it in your eye. We can see if your parents would be willing to meet up to talk about Luke. Maybe have him stay with us temporarily, give them space without your parents not knowing where he is." Buck murmured as he caressed your sides with his calloused hands. His forehead leaning down on your own forehead.

"I haven't been home in years. I'm not sure how they'd take us stepping on their toes."

"Then we tell them how it is. Their decision drove their youngest child away, and that almost killed him. He's almost eighteen, and then he can make his own legal decisions. Be the person we both wish had been there when we were his age."

And that's what you did. Buck and you met up with your parents at your childhood home to your horror and Buck's delight. He'd never gotten to see pictures of a younger you, but Maddie had brought his baby pictures for you to see the first time you met her. While your mom had fixed some of her lemonade Buck had toured the photos hanging on the wall.

The conversation itself was tense and combative, but in the end, your parents agreed that they'd prefer Luke to be safe than missing. Life was looking up.

"Hey," Buck murmured with his arms wrapped around your midsection. His blonde scruff scratching your cheek as he slumped over you, "Is that-?"

"Evie's babysitter?" You supplied with a raised eyebrow towards your now husband's laser focus on your brother.

After your relationship with your parents started healing, you had walked down the aisle in white to Buck. You had settled into the dream house with Luke taking one of the bedrooms. The other bedroom put to use when you got pregnant with Evelyn, Evie for short, to your shared joy.

"He likes her." Buck teased, watching the interaction between the two young adults on the main floor of the 118 fire house.

Eight-month-old Evie chewed on a rattle in the arms of her careful hold of her babysitter, but Evie's eyes watched her uncle. Luke, however, was focused on the beautiful and smart girl he knew from high school; they knew of each other but never acknowledged each other. Luke had already graduated when they first came into each other's worlds. Julie threw herself into babysitting to distract herself from both music and her mother's death.

"She's why the band doesn't practice in our garage?"

"It's a whole thing." You mused with a shake of your hand, "She lost her mom and music. By complete chance, he walked in on her, singing a song to settle Evie. One thing led to another, and Luke formed Julie and the Phantoms with her, Reggie and Alex."

"They formed a band?" Buck beamed, hearing the recent news, "I thought they'd never find their way back to it."

Around the time of your wedding, Bobby had a family emergency involving his uncle Trevor and his cousin Carrie. You'd gone back to work shortly only to be called to the scene of a fatal accident, the victim being Bobby Wilson.

"Julie is Luke's ideal girl. Good with kids, kind, smart, shy, and shares the same passion for music. They bring out the best in each other. They brought music back to each other." You informed your husband with that lovesick grin that was resigned solely for his impulsive ass.

"Kinda like us?"

"Yeah. Like us."

Tag List (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

@safehavenmuse @siennanoelle01 @whiterose291 @mell-bell @blackhood5sos @ficrecsideblog @ifilwtmfc @deadpoolgirl23 @crappy-unicorn @sunsetcurve-h @elioelioeli0 @lovesanimals @popcrone818 @lolychu @deepsleepnat @tenaciousperfectionunknown @aunicornmademedoit @just-a-writer-here @simp4reggie @faithiebrock01 @overlyhypedup @differentsoulrascalsalad @aesthetic-lyss @versaceapa @carleywhittaker @lostgirl219 @itsalexx21 @elllaoo4 @merxxleighann @mediocremunge @fantomlovesjuke4ever @dpaccione @oswin05 @kaylinfayezink @aberette13 @faithie-brock-gillespie01 @eharvey0218 @overlyhypedup @benstormy @auriandthepussicats @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @whothefuckstolemykeds @siriuswvrld @princessvader15 @xoxbloodreinaxox @heimdoodle @joshy-obx @lovesanimals @oopsiedoopsie23 @am3l1a-24 @flying-solo-without-you @jaskiers-sweetkiss @lostrandomfangirln @must-be-a-weasley-92 @jatp-holland @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @dxlanhxlland @dasexydevitt13 @ifilwtmfc @arianagrandes-things @kinda-really-lost @marinettepotterandplagg @ssprayberrythings @morgandamrose @thedarkqueenofavalon @zukoshonourr @crybabyddl @spooky-season-bitch @kcd15 @morganayennefertyrell @magnet-girl @all-in-fangirl @kinda-really-lost @tenaciousperfectionunknown @badwolf00593 @blowakissbabe @talksoprettyjjx @thesweetestsinner @kaitieskidmore1 @writerinlearning @aiofheavenandhell @sageellsworth05 @link-102 @merceret @kexrtiz @biqherosix @lukewearingbeanies @dangersolns @soverignparker @omgdani17

#evan buckley imagines #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley x fem!reader #julie and the phantoms imagines #patterson!reader x brother!Luke Patterson #sunset curve #julie and the phantoms #911 imagines #911 oneshots #oliver stark #evan buckley oneshot #luke patterson #evan buckley x patterson!reader #caitsy and ash productions

407 notes · View notes

homerforsure · 3 years

Note

for the Fun Fact Prompts ! why are you in a tree?

Dear Anon! It's more of a first line prompt than a fun fact prompt, but given that I instantly knew the second line of this as soon as I read the first, I'll allow it.

This got very silly and very far away from me, so the bulk of it is under the cut <3

“Why are you in a tree? No, wait, wait don’t tell me. K-I-S-S-I-N-G?”

“Maddie, can you focus please?” Buck whines into the phone. “We’re stuck.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” she laughs. “Tell me again. Where are you guys?”

Buck explains their location in the park, the fallen ladder, and Maddie agrees to come and rescue them as soon as she can.

“Of all the times for Albert not to answer his phone,” Buck grouses as he shifts on the tree branch to get his own back into his pocket. “He wouldn’t show up and sing at us.”

“Sing?” Eddie asks.

“K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

“Did she say how long-?”

“Just whenever she can. She’s gonna have to pack the baby up so we could be here for hours. You didn’t have anywhere to go right?”

“Me? No. Sitting in an oak tree was my only plan for the day.”

“Sorry,” Buck winces.

It's his fault that they’re stuck. It started with a kite. A big blue one lodged high in the branches of a tree that he spotted when he was biking through the park. A couple of kids were standing below it, looking up with sad expressions and making valiant efforts to boost each other up onto the lower branches. The tree was too big for them though, the branch too far from the ground. Buck had slowed to a stop beside them.

The branch was out of reach for him too, even when leaning his bike against the tree and trying to climb up on the seat. Fortunately the park had a concession stand--closed now, open just for little league games--and the stand had a ladder leaning against the side of the building. It was nothing for Buck to jog over and loosen the rusted brackets holding the ladder in place, then to brace it against the tree and start climbing.

The tree was full of sturdy branches, easy enough to climb. He just… needed to find a route. The kite was further up than it had looked from the ground, tangled in leaves and dangerously far out on the limb.

As Buck stood contemplating, another strong breeze had come through (it was perfect kite flying weather after all), making him wobble on the branch and sending his ladder crashing to the ground.

The kids had shrieked and run off without their kite, completely ignoring Buck’s pleas to just put the ladder back and then vanished over the nearest hill. The stiff wind and unseasonably cool weather had left the park more deserted than usual and Buck had had to swallow his pride and call Eddie who only laughed at him a little.

That wind blows hard again, chilling Buck through his training jersey and making the branches sway. He reaches up to grab the branch overhead, trying to feel a little more stable and Eddie reaches out toward him automatically, even though he’s too far away to reach. The other man is sitting against the trunk of the tree, leaning back, serene and stable, as though he’s on the ground and not 10 feet in the air.

“You were wrong, you know,” Buck says, once he has his balance back.

One of Eddie’s eyebrows quirks up as if to say, Wrong? Me?

“You could never have gotten up there from the other way.”

“Well it’s not like your way worked out that much better.”

When his boyfriend (and wow did that term send shivers up and down Buck’s spine every time he thought it, new and fresh as it still is) had turned up at the park, he’d righted the ladder immediately, expecting Buck to climb back down. Instead, knowing he had a stable route down, Buck had turned his attention back up toward the kite and called back that he’d be down in just a minute.

“Which way are you going?” Eddie had asked. So Buck had pointed out the route to him.

“No. No way. You’re gonna get stuck at that skinny branch and you’ll never make it. You’ve got to go up the other way.”

“What other way?”

Eddie pointed it out and Buck scoffed, “Now that’s ridiculous. You’re not even going to be able to reach it from there.”

“Wanna bet?” Eddie had said.

So now they were both stuck on the branch, kiteless.

“You should come over here,” Eddie says, frowning as the wind shakes the tree again and Buck holds on against the sway. “The branch doesn’t move as much.”

“You worried about me?” Buck asks, smirking over at Eddie who just rolls his eyes.

“It’s not a secret anymore, Buck. You breaking your spine is going to seriously fuck with my weekend plans.”

His weekend plans with Buck. The two of them alone. For the first time since Eddie had pinned Buck against his kitchen counter and kissed him senseless. If Buck had ever had any incentive to stay out of the hospital it was for this promise of whatever Eddie wanted to do next.

“Well I’d hate to do that,” he says, looking over at Eddie through his lashes with faux remorse. “I already ruined your afternoon.”

“Will you just get your ass over here?” Eddie replies, trying not to look ridiculously pleased as he holds out his arm to coax Buck over.

Buck needs very little coaxing. He stands because it’s easier than scooting, walking the tightrope of the tree branch until he’s directly beside Eddie, then dropping down again. “Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” Eddie replies.

It’s dangerous to let himself get distracted when he’s perched so precariously, but Buck can’t help it. With his right hand reached overhead to grab the next branch for balance, he holds out his left for Eddie to take. That Eddie does without hesitation, that he squeezes tight, that he smiles at Buck with that soft, happy smile he doesn’t give to anyone else, still feels like a precious gift. It’s so new, what they have. Buck wants to melt into every moment. Cherish it like it may never come again.

“So,” Eddie says, running his thumb over the back of Buck’s hand. “How do people kiss in trees do you think? It seems pretty dangerous to me.”

Humming as though he’s giving the matter serious thought, Buck says, “A tree house probably makes the most sense.”

“Sure. If you were smart enough to plan ahead. But if you weren’t…”

“If you weren’t,” Buck says, taking his hand back so he can move again, carefully, carefully swinging one leg over so he’s straddling the branch. “I think there’s still a few options. You should, uh, get as close to the trunk as you can. With your back to it, probably.”

Once he’s sure that Buck’s stable, Eddie takes the instruction, using that taller branch to lift himself up just a little, turning, shifting one leg over the branch like Buck has, and settling back against the tree trunk. At the stoutest part of the branch, Eddie almost has a stable seat, though he still crosses his legs tightly below the branch to hold his position. “I can see how this would work,” he says. “If you were careful.”

“Oh careful is the most important thing,” Buck says, inching forward, hand over hand above his head. “It helps to have a strong partner. One who won’t let you fall.”

When he reaches Eddie, he keeps his knees pressed close to the branch so he can try and fit himself between Eddie’s legs, so they can get as close as possible. Buck sees Eddie’s eyes flash with concern when he moves his hands from the branch down onto Eddie’s shoulders and immediately feels one strong arm behind his back.

“One hand on the branch,” Eddie says, his breath close enough to tickle Buck’s ear. “Please.”

“Chicken,” Buck says, lifting his left hand again to clutch the branch.

“Daredevil,” Eddie replies, lifting his own hand and clutching Buck’s fingers over their heads.

“You like it,” Buck teases, unable to stop himself from grinning as he stares into Eddie’s eyes to see exactly how much he does.

“You’re awfully full of yourself.”

“You like that too. You pretend like you’re so mature and by the book, but you like me getting you all riled-”

The rest of his sentence is lost to Eddie’s mouth on his. Buck gives himself over to it immediately, letting Eddie’s firm hand on his back push him forward just a little bit more. He lets his own arm slide behind Eddie’s neck, feeling the bark bite into him on one side and Eddie’s soft hair tickling on the other. Buck loses himself to it, quickly losing his balance as he does and he squeezes tightly to Eddie’s hand anchoring him in place.

“I like all of it,” Eddie whispers, once they pull apart. “I like you.”

Buck has just enough time to enjoy the little shiver that those words send through all his nerves before Eddie’s kissing him again. The chill of the wind, the height from the ground, even the uncomfortable feel of the branch beneath them all fades into the background. Eddie’s kissing him and Buck’s as secure as he’s ever been.

It’s only Maddie’s voice that pulls them out of the moment, sing-songing from the bottom of the tree as she lifts their ladder, “Buck and Ed-die, sittin’ in a tree…”

If you know any fun facts, send them to me and I'll see if I can't make a ficlet out of it!

#911fic #writing prompt #ask #am writing #evan buckley #eddie diaz #deeply silly fluff #k-i-s-s-i-n-g

106 notes · View notes

luv-eddiediaz · 3 years

Text

Oh god. No. Not here. Not now. Not with these people. Eddie can't breathe, but he can't let them know he can't breathe. He loosens his tie just a little bit - the one Ana went back for after Eddie was discharged from the hospital. His nervous laughter is really a way to suck some oxygen back into his lungs, and when a heavy hand touches his elbow, and the smile on its owner’s face distorts. He's going to pass out if he doesn't move, doesn't flee from this spiraling, spinning disaster.

"Could you, uh, could you excuse me?" He asks and plasters on his best charming smile, hoping his voice isn't as high and squeaky as he thinks it is.

He catches Ana's eye from across the room as he moves through what feels like a sea of strangers. She's worried, but Eddie doesn't stop to explain anything and continues his way to the bathroom, where he locks himself inside and lets himself fall apart the way his body was begging to.

His fingers curl tight the porcelain of the sink, and he tries, tries to slow his breathing. Finally, he tells himself to stop it in the mirror, even smacks himself across the cheek, but nothing changes.

There's a soft knock on the door, and Ana's gentle voice comes through the cracks, "Eddie? Are you okay?"

"Fine," he grits out.

"Are you having another attack?"

"I said I'm fine!" his anger and frustration echo too loud against the tile of the bathroom. , get a grip, Diaz. "Can you just get Chris some cake? I'll be right out."

Ana's fading footsteps are the only answer he gets, and Eddie focuses back on himself. He tries to remember what the pamphlet from the hospital said, or rather, what Buck said it says the night he found it buried on Eddie's counter and read it to him, but his brain is just a white-hot sear of nothing. Eddie pulls out his phone and dials Buck - no time to look for his name in the phone book. He doesn't answer, and Eddie nearly throws the phone into the sink.

"Damn!"

But it's Sunday, and Buck said something about Taylor coming over on Sunday, so, of course, he isn't answering. Eddie thinks for a second, in desperation, he'll call Bobby, but then his phone vibrates, and he sees Buck's smile fill the screen. He rubs his thumb over it before swiping to answer.

"Buck?" He answers.

"Hey, you called?" Buck asks on the other end of the line, slightly fuzzy, but Eddie can hear the smile in his voice, and the vice around his heart loosens just a little bit.

"Buck?" He asks again as if he can't process anything else.

"Uh, yea. Are you okay?"

"No. Panic attack."

"But aren't you at that christening?"

"Yes."

"Shit."

"Buck, help.” He hates how desperate he must sound, but Buck’s already seen him at his most desperate, trying to hold onto his life and knowing, instinctively, that Buck would help him. He would save him.

Buck always saves him.

" What have you tried?" Buck asks.

"Not much. Nothing. I just, I called you.”

"That’s good. Where are you?"

"Bathroom."

"You need to focus on something besides the panic. So, find me four things you see, Eddie. Try to be specific."

"Okay,” Eddie looks around the bathroom. He sees a million times too many things, and it takes him a second to focus in on something, “Uh, a pink shower curtain,” like your pink sweater that you say is salmon, but Buck, it’s pink. “white rugs,” dazzling white like your teeth when you smile, and that patch of skin that sometimes peeks through under your waistband. “a bristly hairbrush,” god, you’re hair is always so perfect, “and, and curtains on the window. They’re sheer; pink too,” just like that sweater.

"Good,” Buck soothes, “now, three things you can smell."

"Umm, vanilla soap,” sometimes you smell like vanilla, and sugar - like an ice cream cone on a hot summer day, “cinnamon toothpaste,” like in your bathroom, crumpled up in the corner, “my cologne,” you bought me this bottle for Christmas.

"That’s good, Eddie. Two things you can hear."

"I hear people - outside the door."

"Not them,” Buck tells him, “Two other things. Ignore that sound."

"I hear - I hear crickets outside the open window, and I hear...you. Your voice in my ear, your breath,” I always hear you, even when I don’t want to.

"One thing you can touch," Buck says quietly, and Eddie takes a shaking breath, presses his hand over his chest.

"My heartbeat."

"Is it slower than before?"

"Yes."

"Good. Do you think you're okay?"

“Yea. I um, I’m probably just going to go home, sleep it off.”

“Good idea.”

“Thank you, Buck.”

“Of course.”

Eddie hangs up and slips his phone back into his pocket. He isn’t panicking anymore, but he doesn’t feel great. He splashes his face with water and tries to smooth down all the places he’s rumpled before he opens the bathroom door and finds Ana on the other side, Christopher sitting next to her on the floor with a plate of cake in his lap.

“Are you okay?” she asks, putting a hand to his cheek, and it burns where there was just cold air against the drying water.

Eddie nods, “I’m okay. But I think I’m probably gonna go. In case it happens again.”

“Let me get my purse.”

“No, you stay. It’s your family. Just tell them I got sick.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yea,” he leans down and kisses her cheek before helping Chris up.

Neither says much to the other in the car, but Eddie chuckles when Chris rips his suit jacket off the moment the door is closed. He sees the silhouette on the front steps against the fading sun before he gets the truck parked and shakes his head at the realization it’s Buck.

"What are you doing here?" he asks when Buck jogs up to him.

"I didn't want you to be alone when you got home,” Buck answers quietly and then turns his attention to Christopher once the back door is open, and he’s climbing out, “Hey, buddy, did you have a good time? You look pretty handsome in that suit."

Chris rolls his eyes, "that's what everyone kept telling me. But then they said I would have looked better if I cut my hair.

“Well, you know what? I like this long, floppy look,” Buck ruffles his hand through Chris’s hair. It had definitely gotten long, and maybe a little out of control, but he didn’t want to cut it, and Eddie only remembered being dragged to the barbershop every five weeks to have his hair clipped, no matter how much he begged to keep it just a little bit longer.

Chris smiles, “thanks, Buck.”

“Do you think you could give me a minute with your dad?” Buck asks when they all get inside the house. Eddie flips on the lamp by the door, and Christopher nods and leaves for his room, closing the door behind him.

“I’m fine, Buck,” Eddie says, walking further into the house, turning on lights as he goes.

“Okay, but do you wanna talk about what happened?”

“No.”

“Was it too many people?”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, “I’m half Mexican, Buck; I grew up going to huge parties, family and friends always over on the weekend. That wasn’t it.”

“What was it, then?”

“Why does it matter?” he doesn’t mean to sound as exasperated as he does, but sometimes Buck just brings it out of him.

“Because if you can figure out what’s triggering you, you can figure out how to control the panic better.”

“I don’t panic.”

“You didn’t, but now you are. So let’s try and figure out why.”

Eddie sighs, “can I have a beer while we do it, at least?”

“If I get one too.”

They go into the kitchen, and Eddie takes two beers from the fridge and cracks one open before handing it to Buck. He watches him take a long, slow sip. Eddie’s hands start to shake around the glass, and he forces himself to look away, down at the shine of his shoes to keep whatever is trying to rise pushed down.

“Was there like some kind of a loud noise?” Buck asks.

“No. It isn’t - loud noises have never bothered me.”

“Things have changed a little bit, though.”

“I don’t think they have anything to do with being shot. I know no one wants to believe me, but I’m fine about that.”

“Maybe no one wants to believe you because you were shot. That doesn’t happen to most people even once, and it’s happened to you twice.”

“I know, but I swear to you, I’m okay. I don’t think that’ what this about.”

“If you say so. Let’s recount the night then. What happened right before it started?”

“Ana’s great aunt, she - she said I was perfect for Ana - a good addition to their family.”

Buck takes another swig from the bottle; his eyebrows are knitted in thought. If Chim or Hen were there, they’d make a joke about him not straining himself, and they’d only be kidding, but Eddie knows Buck has a lot of thoughts, a lot of good, deep ones, that maybe Eddie is the only one to have ever heard, “And didn’t you say the first time was after the salesman referred to Ana as Chris’s mom?”

“Yea,” Eddie says quietly.

“Do you think maybe you’re just having a hard time with how serious your relationship is getting?”

“It’s not getting that serious.”

“Eddie, she introduced you to like all her family, you went to an important family event, her great-aunt thinks your excellent husband material.”

Eddie’s breath catches in his throat, and he coughs, trying to force it out, but it sits there like a bubble trying to choke him, and the kitchen starts to spin, turquoise spiraling into stainless steel, spiraling into Buck.

“Stop, stop saying things like that,” he sputters out.

“You’re starting to panic again, aren’t you?” Buck asks.

“When the hell did it get so serious? I was just - I don’t know what I was doing. I liked her, but I didn’t mean-”

Eddie backs against the counter next to the sink, he tries to loosen his tie, but he can’t make his fingers work. Then Buck crosses the space between them and replaces Eddie’s hand with his own, pulling down on the knot and unbuttoning Eddie’s collar. “Breathe; breathe,” he whispers to him and puts his hands on Eddie’s shoulders, and he’s so close Eddie has no choice but to look at him. He feels his hand in Buck’s, slowly pressing against the other man’s chest.

“Breathe with it,” Buck says of his heartbeat, and Eddie closes his eyes. It takes a few moments, but soon his breath is in sync with Buck’s heartbeat, and he’s not sure he’s ever felt this kind of calm before.

“Okay?” Buck asks.

“No, but yes.”

“I’m gonna ask you something, and I need you to be honest - not for me, but for yourself.”

“O-okay.”

“Do you want Ana to be in your future? Your far future?”

“No,” he answers quickly, but it’s a question he’s asked himself before and was just too afraid to say out loud, “but -”

“But what? Chris likes her?”

“Yes!” Eddie shouts.

“Maybe he does, maybe he even loves her a little, but he loves you more, and he wants you to be happy, and he knows you aren’t happy, and he probably knows it’s because of her.”

“He does?”

“Yes,” Buck takes Eddie’s hand away from his heart, but he doesn’t let go of it, “your heart knows it too, and it’s screaming at you, Eddie, but you aren’t listening.”

“I wanted to be ready, to move on from Shannon, not just after she died, but long before that too.”

“I know.”

“Am I never going to be ready?” He can feel the wet of his eyes as he blinks up at Buck, vulnerable once again in front of him.

“I think you are, but not with Ana, and that’s okay. I mean, she’s the first person you seriously dated besides your wife, Eds. So it’s okay that she isn’t the right fit, and it’s okay if it takes you a little while longer to find who is.”

“Is Taylor your right fit?” Eddie blurts out, and it makes Buck let go of his hand.

“Whoah, we’re talking about you here.”

“Is she? It’s been four months, and you’re still together; she’s still actually here.”

“Yea, she hasn’t run away from me yet, and ya know, we have a good time.”

“She makes you happy?”

“Y-yea. I mean, am I ready to ask her to marry me? No, but I gave her a drawer last week.”

“A drawer?”

“Yea. She’s only got a few things in it; honestly, she lives more in the news van than anything.”

“You gave Taylor a drawer. In your loft?”

“Am I mumbling or something? A drawer, yes. In my loft.”

“That’s uh - that’s cool.” But, damnit, Eddie can’t do this for the third time. He doesn’t have the strength left. He grips the dishtowel hanging from the knife drawer just to ground himself to something.

“You okay?”

“Yep, yep.”

“You’re looking a little panicky. Maybe it’s not just Ana. Maybe you’ve just got a real fear of commitment thing going on. Even if it’s mine.”

“Shit,” his chest hurts this time, and his whole body is hot, but he’s shivering.

“Put your hand back on my heart.”

“No, no! God, that’s going to make this worse.”

“What? Why? It worked last time.”

“Exactly. And in the bathroom, it was you, so much you,” Eddie’s knees are weak now. He isn’t sure how much longer he can stay upright, and suddenly everything, fucking everything, smells like Buck.

“Eddie, you’re not making any sense.”

“I need you to go. Can you go, please?”

“I’m not going to leave you like this.”

And, of course, Eddie knows Buck won’t leave him. Buck will do just about anything Eddie asks, but he won’t do this. He won’t leave Eddie when Eddie needs him so badly.

“Buck, please, you’re making things worse.”

“How am I making things worse?”

“Because you’re the only one who can make them better!”

“Eddie, Eddie.” Buck wraps Eddie up in his arms before he can fall to the floor, probably hitting his head on the way down. The instant calm he feels with Buck’s body pressed hard against his, his soft breath hitting the curve of Eddie’s neck terrifies him. It isn’t a new fear, but it’s one he’s been feeling so much more lately, one he can’t seem to ignore. He’s so tired from his body trying to run away from everything; his bones ache, his chest is sore. Finally, he closes his eyes and gives in to the fear, stops trying to fight or flee, and just lets Buck hold onto him. His fingers rake through Eddie’s sweat-slicked hair as Eddie’s breathing starts to slow.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Buck whispers into Eddie’s throbbing temple.

“It’s not okay at all.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m in love with you,” he rushes out in one broken breath, “it isn’t just that Ana feels wrong; it’s that you feel right. You’ve always felt right.”

Buck is quiet for what feels like a hundred moments before he finally seems to have something to say.

“Huh,” he breathes out from the back of his throat.

“That’s all you have to say?”

“What would you like me to say?”

“I don’t know. You could say that I’m insane, that you love Taylor, that you’re not into men, not into me.”

“I could say any of that, but then I’d be lying to you.”

“What?”

“Look, Eddie, I-I don’t know if I’m in love with you, but I feel something. Something more than I’ve ever felt with anyone, and I kinda keep thinking it’s going to go away, but it never goes away.”

“Huh.”

Buck laughs and gently sits Eddie up, tangled across Buck’s long legs, still safe in his arms, “are you okay?” he asks.

“I think I am.”

“Good.”

Buck presses a kiss to the tip of Eddie’s nose, and Eddie smiles before he tilts his chin, so Buck’s lips fall against his. It’s a slow, quiet kiss that lasts only a few seconds before they both pull away.

Eddie is so tired he can barely keep his eyes open, so he lets them slip closed, lets Buck hold him closer in the middle of the kitchen floor until he falls asleep.

#i had to do it #long fic #buddie fic #eddie's anxiety attacks #not anti ana #but not pro ana by any means either #panic attacks #buddie

104 notes · View notes