EllTheFeels
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Grief is a beast. One that roams at night, looking for its next prey. One that hides in the shadows, waiting to come out. One that has no mercy, is not familiar with the concept. It sinks its claws into you deep, holding on for dear life. It waits till you forget it’s there, until you’re just comfortable enough, and it tears you apart from the inside. It slashes and gnaws, rips and tears, until all that’s left is a jumbled mess that used to be you.
Is still you.
At least. You hope it is.OR
Buck is grieving. That's it. That's the fic.
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The saw buzzes to life, and Eddie can tell when it touches the door for the first time as the entire van starts shaking ever so slightly. His ribs shift, and he wants to scream, but he doesn’t want to scare Buck, never scare Buck, so he bites his lip until he tastes copper.
The grinding snakes its way into his ears, nestles itself into his brain, until the saw is the only thing he can hear over his rattled breathing. Eddie just wants this to stop, wants to be out of the van, wants to lay in his own bed, wants to not hurt anymore, wants the whining of the saw to stop, wants Buck Buck Buck.OR
Eddie is stuck in a van on a collapsed bridge, and everything hurts, and he wants to get out, get out damnit, but he has to stay calm. He has to be fine. Buck needs him. He's fine. (The finale from Eddie's POV)
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When Buck opens his eyes, his heart skips a beat. It tends to do that now, ever since… Well, ever since it stopped beating, full stop. His apartment is quiet, and he takes a deep breath. He stares at the ceiling. He goes through his list.
Or the one in which Buck wakes up one morning after his coma and has to go through his list to make sure he's really there.
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TK would like nothing more than to tear Carlos' clothes off, truly, but something is wrong with his boyfriend and he needs to fix that first. Problem is, he has no idea how.
Or the one in which Carlos gets some unexpected news, and TK is there to help him with the fallout.
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TK clenched his teeth so hard he thought he was going to break some, but it didn’t help. None of this was going to help. He had been here before, and he knew exactly how this usually ended. There was only one thing he wanted, and he wanted it bad. So bad only a miracle could stop him.
Maybe TK knew a miracle, though.
___________________
TKs mental health is in shambles, and he is on the verge of a relapse. That's when he finds himself on Carlos' doorstep.
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"Can I try something?"
"Yeah, sure, g-go ahead, man." Buck cringes, and even that is adorable.
"Close your eyes."
"E-Eddie," Buck croaks helplessly.
"I'm not gonna bite, Buckley. Trust me?"
Buck closes his eyes. Squeezes them shut, really.
Eddie tugs his face into the curve of Buck's shoulder before he can lose the nerve, Buck's pulse fluttering wildly against the tip of Eddie's nose.
Buck is struggling after the events in New Mexico. Eddie decides to move in with him about it.
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- English
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Bookmarked by EllTheFeels
21 Sep 2026
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His body battled a tsunami for Christopher, and it pulled Eddie to safety beneath a fire truck.
It was useful. And for Buck, it was only ever about the practical. His body was a tool for other people, just like when he was a kid - like when his parents took, and took, and took from him, like he was built for spare parts. Not a whole thing. He was born to save, and the truth of that is wired into his DNA. He’s been carrying the weight of his trauma since the moment he was born.
His body was never his. Not really.
Bookmarked by EllTheFeels
25 May 2025
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“Laundry’s done,” Buck tells him softly. “Do you want your own clothes?”
Eddie’s bottom lip is tugged between his teeth as he fiddles with the drawstring of Buck’s hoodie. He ties it into a bow, pulling the hood over his face. “No,” he says, voice tired and uncharacteristically small. “This way at least I can—smell this. You. Still—” he inhales raggedly, “—smells like home.”
or, sometimes the hardest part about missing someone is the forgetting, and sometimes the hardest part about loving someone is just being there without a fix. eddie and buck are managing, though
Bookmarked by EllTheFeels
24 May 2024
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(PROOF OF CONCEPT [n] a realization of a certain method or idea in order to demonstrate its feasibility. A demonstration in principle with the aim of verifying that some concept or theory has practical potential.)
“The second kind is what I would consider the only right way of doing things. It takes practice and listening to your partner as you play out a scene. It’s called a blood choke, you lightly grip the neck from the front, and—” Eddie demonstrates by tenderly gripping both sides of Buck’s neck with four fingers on one side and thumb on the other, never straying to the center where the skin aches and stings the most from Grindr James. He applies a slow pulse of a tightening grip as he speaks.
“Named blood for the carotid arteries you’re applying pressure to slowly on either side of the esophagus to induce light-headedness,” Eddie is still speaking in low tones but Buck feels the instinctive fluttering of his eyes, overwhelmed by the rush of endorphins he can sense racing away from his brain straight down to his cock in three nanoseconds flat from the firm and reverent touch of someone he's in love with.
Series
- Part 1 of this was when i knew
Bookmarked by EllTheFeels
22 May 2024
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Mystery Work
Part of .
Summary
This is part of an ongoing challenge and will be revealed soon!
Bookmarked by EllTheFeels
13 May 2024