bizzy_lizzy
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It’s then that Eddie’s hands stutter to a halt, palms pressed to the soft flesh of Buck’s belly. Blinking foggily, Buck catches Eddie’s line of sight, to the way his gaze has drifted to the very noticeable bulge in Buck’s sweats.
“Fuck,” whispers Buck hurriedly, a fiery dose of humiliation and shame washing over him. His heart thumps miserably beneath his ribcage, and he swallows against a swell of nausea. “Fuck, I— I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Buck looks up again in time to catch Eddie’s eyes, now trained on Buck’s warm face.
God, Eddie’s not even doing anything, and Buck’s about to bust. He’s— he’s on a hair trigger, like he’s sixteen again.
After a too-long moment, Eddie clears his throat. Almost whispering, he says, “It’s okay. It happens. It’s… pain receptors; your body is just… you’re in overdrive. Adrenaline. It’s normal.”
OR: Buck’s humiliation ritual of the day.
Series
- Part 23 of ejo + 911
Bookmarked by bizzy_lizzy
02 Sep 2026
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It takes Buck a long time to really comprehend what Eddie has placed so casually in his arms.
The linen is warm and clean against his forearms, a decent weight that feels heavier and heavier with every passing second. The fabric on top of the pile is familiar and unwelcome; it's his brown flannel shirt, washed and pressed and folded with military precision. It smells faintly like lavender.
Oh, he thinks dumbly, blinking down at the clothes he holds. Oh.
Eddie is kicking him out.
OR
Buck is pretty sure Eddie breaks up with him, spirals a little bit out of control, and has a heart-to-heart with Maddie that breaks his heart before making it better.
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Bookmarked by bizzy_lizzy
01 Sep 2026
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"Well," Buck says, with a sense that he's slipping into increasingly precarious territory. "It shouldn't be, uh, hard to find someone to help you out there. I mean, you look like…" he waves a hand at Eddie's whole… everything. And that feels like admitting too much, somehow, but it's not like Eddie doesn't know what he looks like. "I mean, you're hot. I bet you could find someone to show you the ropes."
"Yeah, but what if I don't like it? And then I have to tell the guy to stop, and it's weird."
The more likely outcome, Buck knows, is Eddie just gritting his teeth and suffering through it in silence, and that's so unacceptable that the next words come out without passing through his admittedly faulty brain to mouth filter at all. "What about me?"
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Or: Eddie wants to try something out. Buck helps.
Series
- Part 6 of 9-1-1 Kink Meme Fills
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- English
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Bookmarked by bizzy_lizzy
26 Aug 2026
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His Curious George socks slide over the floorboards with how abruptly Buck comes to a stop, almost sending him catapulting backwards. The glasses in his hands wobble. Water splatters over the rims.
In front of him, Eddie is no longer sitting on the couch. He’s on all fours by the edge of the coffee table, knees digging into hard wood, arms holding himself up. Really, the accurate term is probably all threes, considering that one of his hands has just lifted, reaching up to cup Chimney’s face.
Chimney’s face. Because they’re kissing.
Eddie and Chimney are kissing.
Their mouths are pressed together, and they’re moving, pushing and touching, and fucking kissing.
Bookmarked by bizzy_lizzy
20 Aug 2026
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“I wasn’t even the one driving,” Buck snaps.
Eddie spins out to a stop: like tires screeching, like loss of control, like losing the thing that matters second-most to him in the world before he ever gets a chance to realize it. He spins like he’s beneath the scattered stars over the desert, like there’s nothing but dry ground beneath him, like there’s nothing, nothing anywhere except the crash and then the quiet.
No. Eddie had been driving.
in which Eddie comes over to find Buck's house empty; and everything spirals from there.
Bookmarked by bizzy_lizzy
16 Aug 2026