Dawna42
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“I have loved you,” Buck said, “across fires, floods, earthquakes, mistaken identities, one brief period where everyone believed I was a secret prince, and the unfortunate week when you were cursed by a jealous botanist.”
Eddie’s mind snagged. “A what?”
“But even if all that vanished,” Buck continued fiercely, “even if every memory burned away, I would love you still. In this life. In the next. In whatever strange world dares to separate us and call itself real.”
or Eddie wakes up in a telenovela coma dream
Bookmarked by Dawna42
13 May 2026
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some version of you that I might not have (but I did not lose) by buckmeetsboy
Fandoms: 9-1-1 (TV)
23 Apr 2026
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Buck’s hands were roughened and slightly reddened across the knuckles, like he’d been chopping wood or working outside without gloves. There was a fading bruise near his wrist, yellow at the edges. His eyes were bloodshot. There was an unevenness to the stubble along his jaw where he’d either stopped caring halfway through shaving or never started. All surface details. None of them what Eddie actually wanted to know.
How bad is it today? How often do you hurt? What happens at three in the morning when the cabin gets too quiet and your head gets too loud. Do you still count the hours since the last pill or has that stopped meaning anything? When you said you needed space, did you mean from everyone or just from seeing what you’ve become reflected back in our faces?
Buck shifted under the weight of the silence. “Say it.”
Eddie frowned. “Say what?”
“What you came all this way to say.”
OR Buck leaves because he thinks he is a burden, Eddie follows.
Bookmarked by Dawna42
12 May 2026
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“Chim?” Buck yells loud enough that it bounces off a few cars. “Chim, like, Chimney? You have a crush on… Chimney? As in my sister’s husband?”
Eddie recoils, startled. “I thought you said you knew?”
“I… I…” Buck isn’t sure what to say. This changes everything—the entire day rewrites itself, and he sees every single fucking interaction: Eddie fawning over Chimney in the gym. The counter. The calls.
It was never about Buck.
“He’s fucking married, Eddie.”
OR
Eddie's got a crush, and Buck's handling it as expected.
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- English
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- 17,004
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- 1/1
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Bookmarked by Dawna42
18 Apr 2026
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“You didn’t tell me your agent’s name was Dick,” Eddie says, halfway to a laugh.
Buck tries to force a smile onto his face, but it won’t come. “Yeah, he didn’t mention that before. Apparently, that was info he only wanted to share with you.”
“Oh, weird,” Eddie says, like it’s not worth thinking about. “Still funny, though.”
“Hilarious,” Buck says as he pulls into the street and Eddie types in the next address.
OR
The problem isn't that Buck's real estate agent is into Eddie or that Eddie seems to like it; it's a matter of professionalism.
- Language:
- English
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- 12,733
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- 1/1
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Bookmarked by Dawna42
18 Apr 2026
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“You’re cheating,” Buck accuses.
“I’m winning,” Eddie pants, looking far too smug.
“I’m—” Buck tries to tug his arms free from Eddie’s hold to no avail. How is Eddie so damn strong? “I’m letting you.”
“You’re letting me pin you down? Do you like getting your ass handed to you, Buck?”
Heat floods Buck’s gut. He does like getting his ass handed to him. Or—no, well… he likes being pinned, or thrown against walls, or–or floors. But that’s different. That’s a sex thing. This is definitely not a sex thing. This is a bro thing. They’re bro-wrestling. Bro-housing. This is the most platonic thing Buck’s done in his entire life. He doesn’t know why he’s sweating.
Channelling his inner carpet python, he gives a determined wriggle, but Eddie’s hands tighten around his wrists. The feeling sends a shock through Buck’s spinal column.
Oh no.
Eddie, breathless and beautiful above him, repeats, “Say uncle.”
Breath stuttering out of him, Buck freezes.
Use your head, Buck thinks. His dick twitches. Then, panicked, the big one.
Or: Buck and Eddie wrestle over the remote. They forget the remote.
Series
- Part 16 of cjo + 911
Bookmarked by Dawna42
17 Apr 2026