terminallytranquil
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Summary
cj and jo's collabs! these fics are all unconnected and can be read on their own :)
- Words:
- 95,172
- Works:
- 11
- Bookmarks:
- 13
Bookmarked by terminallytranquil
12 Mar 2026
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Summary
The boyfriend looks at Eddie's arm, looks at Eddie's face, does whatever math drunk people do when they're deciding whether a fight is worth it, and somehow arrives at the correct answer. He grabs maybe-horse-Ashley by the elbow and pulls her away, muttering something about firefighters that Buck doesn't catch because he's too busy trying not to pass out.
Eddie turns around. His hand is still on Buck's chest.
"Seriously?" One eyebrow up. Not angry yet, but getting there. "We've been here an hour."
"He came at me!" Buck throws his hands up. Outraged. Innocent. An absolute victim of circumstance and nothing more. "I was just talking to her."
"You were practically on top of her."
"That's just how I talk to people, Eddie. I'm a leaner. It's my thing."
Eddie stares at him for a second. His hand drops from Buck's chest and he shakes his head, turning back to the bar.
"Get yourself a drink," Eddie says over his shoulder. "And stay out of trouble for five minutes."
He makes it roughly eleven minutes before he does something stupid again.
Or,
Buck is completely normal about Eddie shoving Blue to defend his honor. Really. He is.Bookmarked by terminallytranquil
10 Mar 2026
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Eddie’s massage therapist is Briana.
He confirmed this six times: twice on the website, once during a phone call he made from his truck in the grocery store parking lot like it was a covert operation, three more times in the confirmation email.
"Eddie?"
He looks up.
That is not Briana.
The guy standing in the hallway entrance is tall and built like someone whose job description wildly undersold the physical reality. There's a birthmark above his eye that shouldn't work but does, way too much, and his scrubs fit him well. They — okay. They fit him obscenely well, actually.
His arms. God, his arms. They're just arms. Everyone has arms.
Eddie is suddenly, involuntarily, thinking about what it would feel like to have those arms braced on either side of him. Or around him. Or holding him down.
Which is not a thought he's ever had about a man's arms before. He's pretty sure. He's almost sure. He's going to move on from this.
He is going to stop looking at the arms.
Any second now.
Or,
It's just a massage. Eddie can survive that. Right?Bookmarked by terminallytranquil
08 Mar 2026
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The thing Buck still struggles with, however, is his shoes.
His first instinct has always been to kick them off the second he walks through the door. He leaves them scattered across the threshold without a care, one of them usually upside down or on its side. His parents always complained when they tripped over them, and once threw away a pair of sneakers because he kept leaving them out.
The chart never worked for his shoes.
When he lived alone, it wasn’t a problem. Buck didn’t care if he tripped over his shoes; he just kicked them aside like they didn’t mean anything. He was the only one who ever got inconvenienced by it.
Living with Eddie and Chris has left him considerably more mindful of what he does with his shoes.
****
OR Buck's forgetfulness leads to deadly consequences...
Bookmarked by terminallytranquil
23 Feb 2026
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He wonders if Buck ever thinks about it.
The sheets sticking to his damp skin, their sounds of pleasure echoing around the room, Buck telling him all the things he’s thought about doing to Eddie before. How Eddie would let him without question, knowing Buck would still take care of him even when given all the power in the world.
What this means for himself is something that’s hard to bear thinking about.
Or, Eddie comes to terms with what he deserves.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 26,231
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- 1/1
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Bookmarked by terminallytranquil
14 Feb 2026