Requests are now OPEN! Please feel free to send in your requests. I have listed the characters that I write for below the ‘keep reading’ line. A few things to remember:
I do NOT write ships like Buddie etc. I only write Reader-Inserts.
I only write for characters mentioned in the list as well as any that have been added under the Additional Characters sections on my Masterlist.
I have not yet written SMUT fics, but I am not opposed to doing so.
I do not currently have an uploading schedule, but I will try to get any requests done ASAP.
That’s all there is to say, so feel free to request!
🍄 Summary: Another big step towards a more permanent future has Buck imagining what his life in Austin is going to be like, but also thinking of the people he's left behind.
🍄 Word Count: 3620
🍄 Abbreviations: N/A
🍄 Warnings: N/A
🍄 Note: Part 9 in the Butter, Flour and Better Days series. Tag list is open! xoxo
Buck woke before you, as he usually did. His eyes squinted in the bright morning sun as it gazed through the curtains and into the living room of Owen Strand’s house. He watched the slow rise and fall of your chest under the sheets, your body curled into his own. Your head fit perfectly against his chest, your breath fanning across the length of his neck, tickling his skin. His hand lifted, his fingers tracing gently against the skin of your cheek, soft and smooth. He slowed his movements as your plump lips pouted slightly, your eyebrows twitching as you settled against his gentle movements. He couldn’t stop looking at her, like something in him refused to look away. His fingertips traced every small mark, every little line of your face, as if he was trying to memorise everything about you, as if you weren’t already committed to his permanent memory. You were the last thing he thought of at night and the first thing he wanted to see in the morning. Your arm slung lazily across his waist, the thin strap of your sleep shirt slipping down from your shoulder.
Owen had been kind enough to put the two of you up on the pull out bed and despite their early start, neither Owen nor TK made a sound coming through in the morning. Both of you blissfully unaware of their movements. It was the first time Buck had gotten a decent lie in, in a long time. Between shifts at the 118 and his sleepless nights, haunted by either the bombing or the continuous abuse from his old team, Buck barely managed to get enough sleep. The first night at Owen’s had been quiet, almost too quiet. He had imagined his phone taking in all the messages and calls from the 118. He had laid there for hours thinking about the carnage he would be stepping into when he finally turned his phone back on and received everything from them. Thousands of scenarios swamped his mind. What would they say? What would they say about his choice to leave, about his talk with the chief? What had happened in the days he had been away? What had happened to Bobby? What was his reaction to Buck leaving? The questions curled and twisted in his gut, a sickness landing in the pit of his stomach as he thought through all the possibilities. All the possible scenarios he was waiting to face.
Buck maneuvered his body to the side of the bed, carefully unhooking your arm and leg from around him and resting you gently against the pillows. He froze for a moment as you shuffled against the mattress, Cookie snuggling up closer to your chest, replacing Buck’s warm body. A sigh of relief escaped him as you pressed your face into her fur and your breathing evened out once again, the tense lines on your face relaxing. His lips brushed her forehead feather-light so that it barely disturbed her sleep. Buck slipped into the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water, sipping from it as he unlocked the back door and stepped into the garden. He settled down on the garden bench and stared up at the bright blue Austin skies above.
Buck’s mind wandered back to his sister. Despite the fear and nausea that his phone brought up in him, Buck knew he needed to talk to his sister. He needed to turn his phone on to see what she thought of all this. Maddie only had Chimney’s side of everything right now, and Buck doubted that Chimney would be so forthcoming with the way he and the others had been treating Buck at work. He shuddered inwardly at the thought of his sister’s disappointment. At her upset over him leaving, at him not pushing through and sticking around to fix his family. Buck could only imagine her worry, over not being able to get ahold of him, over not knowing where he was. He had contemplated leaving your number for Maddie to get a hold of him, you had said it was fine if he wanted to. But then he had thought about Maddie passing the number to Chimney, not knowing everything that had unravelled between Buck and the team. He imagined the 118 blowing up your phone with comments, angry voice notes claiming he was running away like a coward, that he had ruined their lives with the lawsuit only to run when the going got too tough. His heart clenched at the thought. So he had left nothing. No trace of him behind in his apartment, nothing for Maddie to unknowingly share with the team.
Turning his phone off also meant that Athena wouldn’t be able to track him. Another concern that had crossed his mind. He knew that Athena was probably just as clueless as Maddie as to what her husband had been doing at work. He knew that Bobby wouldn’t admit to giving him a hard time, even less so than Chimney. Buck felt a similar guilt towards Athena as he did Maddie. He had left her in the dark just as much as his sister. He knew Maddie would go straight to Athena, if Bobby hadn’t already - to see if she could trace his phone and find out where he was. He was thankful they hadn’t met you, that they hadn’t exchanged numbers with you or got to know you enough that they could trace you. Buck was sure that the team wouldn’t be able to remember you clearly enough to give Athena a description, they had been more focused on tearing him down in the middle of the Italian restaurant than becoming acquainted with you out of kindness.
A little yip pulled Buck’s gaze down to the small bundle of fur which had padded out from inside and settled against his feet. Cookie’s tiny jaw stretched open in a yawn almost too powerful for her little body.
“Morning, Princess,” He smiled, reaching a hand down to press against her small head, ruffling her ears. “Not a bad day, huh?” Cookie’s head dropped down against her paws as she warmed Buck’s ankles. There was a louder shuffle behind him as the glass door pushed wider. You rubbed your eyes with one hand, Buck’s old LAFD hoodie pulled over your top and hanging off one shoulder. It practically buried you in its fabric. A bright smile lit up your face as you walked out and came to stand beside Buck.
Buck set down the glass and reached out an arm to wrap around your waist, tugging you closer and pulling you down to sit sideways in his lap. Your arms wrapped around his neck instinctively as Buck nuzzled his face into your exposed shoulder. He squeezed her affectionately as her fingers curled in the short hair at the back of his neck, tracing small shapes into the back of his scalp.
“Morning, Honey,” he mumbled against your skin, grinning against your neck as a shiver ran down the length of your spine. The vanilla scent of your body wash ran over his senses, a wave of calm setting in his muscles and releasing any tension that resided there. His body was like putty against you, you had complete control over Buck and he was absolutely intoxicated by you.
“Morning, Hero,” you whispered back, the calm of the garden seeming too nice to ruin with loud moments. “Missed you in bed.”
“Sorry,” he replied, pulling his face away from your skin long enough to catch your bright sleepy eyes. “Needed a minute.” The smile on your face didn’t fade but your eyes gave you away, even just for a moment as concerns sparkled in your irises. “I was just thinking about my phone, and Maddie,” he admitted. Buck felt no reason to hide anything from you. You’d both come this far together, there were no secrets between you, Buck had laid himself bare and after everything, he was going to continue to lay down everything for you. “I think I should turn it back on,” he confessed quietly.
“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” your tone wasn’t unkind or accusatory. Never. “I’m sure Maddie would love to hear from you, but if it's too much…” Buck smiled sweetly, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle peck.
“I know,” he smiled softly. “I know you’re worried. But, but I need to talk to Maddie. I can’t- I don’t want her to worry anymore.” you nod.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” you offered calmly, your thumb brushing soothingly back and forth against the pink birthmark marring the skin above Buck’s eye. “I get it. You’re a good brother, Hero.” Buck could feel a slight clogging in his throat at your words. He just hoped Maddie felt the same way when he contacted her. “Are you going to turn it on now?” Buck shook his head. As much as he needed to talk to Maddie, he could wait a few more hours.
“Not until we’ve seen the house.” he said decidedly.
“Whatever you need, Hero. Just say the word.” Your head rested against his shoulder as Cookie perked up, little paws pressing against Buck’s knee with her head stretching towards you. “I think someone’s feeling left out.” you smiled, lifting her onto your lap to join in the snuggle.
“Can’t have that now, can we, Princess?” Yap!
Over the past few months, Buck had felt like the luckiest person alive. He had received more luck than one person deserved, way more luck than he could ever wish for. From meeting you, to surviving the structure fire, to being offered the job in Austin. Nothing could get better than this. That was what Buck had thought before he had driven his jeep up the long winding dirt road, following the directions of Judd on the SATNAV towards the house he would potentially be owning. At first the two of you had thought the SATNAV took you down a wrong turning, the winding road seemed to go on forever, worn picket fencing lined the sides of the roads, long rolling green fields filling the space. Trees sat along the border of the fence creating a thin canopy above the car, glares of sunlight lighting the shaded road ahead.
It wasn’t until the trees began to part and Buck’s jeep took a right turn at the end of the long road that Buck’s lips parted in awe. The house was more than just a simple property, the house was like something from a movie. The wrap around porch was the first thing that came into view, a few old pieces of furniture scattered out facing towards the fields surrounding the house. The wide windows on the front of the house were bay windows, allowing maximum natural light into the property. Buck pulled the jeep into park a few steps from the porch, next to where Judd’s truck sat, and for a moment neither of you said a thing. Your attention also stolen by the beautiful house in front of you.
The house looked like it had been loved, soft around the edges, a little worn even if it still stood with pride in the middle of this expanse of lush land. The house stood steady, clean lines and big windows, tall gables and simple white siding gave it that classic farmhouse shape. Boughs of ivy weaved their way up the pillars along the porch roof, overgrown but not destroying the vibe of the house. Buck watched closely as you walked up to the door after hopping out the car, Cookie sniffing everything that was within reach of her little pink harness. Your fingers brushed over the ivy gently as you walked up to the front door which was open, calling out to Judd inside. Nature was beginning to try and claim the house back, twisting around the porch and weeds growing along the edges of the house, but not untamable by any standards.
Judd called out from inside coming through from the arch that led to the kitchen, a wide smile on his face. He leant down to ruffle Cookie’s ears as she approached him to say hello. Buck could barely remember what Buck was saying as the two of you walked around the property, it was stunning. More stunning than anything Buck would be able to afford back in LA. It was empty and hollow but even as the three of you (four of you) walked through the rooms, it still held the same warmth you’d expect from a fully functioning home. Of course there were a few things that needed adjusting and fixing up, like the peeling paint, a new set of carpets and other things. But it was a beautiful building with the potential to be a beautiful home.
Buck watched you walk around the empty rooms, taking everything in, Cookie sticking by your side having a great time looking around what could soon be her forever home. The floorboards creaked underfoot, worn smooth in some places but splintered in others, noticing you tugging Cookie away from the splintered wood, Buck knew it would be a quick job to change it out. You talked to Cookie about all the different things you could do with the rooms, how the bed would go here, the couch pushed into the middle of this room because the light wouldn’t affect the television in the day time. As soon as you reached the kitchen you were in your element, there was more than enough room around for all of your baking appliances without overfilling the kitchen as you did in your old apartment. Buck could see it already, you dancing around to your speaker, Cookie rushing around your feet, tail wagging pleasantly. Buck could see himself coming home from work, walking into the joy that was his life here in Austin. Baking supplies all over the place, flour covering every surface, trays lined with various goods you had baked. He imagined walking into the kitchen and wrapping his arms tightly around him, not as a way of grounding himself like he had before, but a way of reminding himself he was needed, he was wanted, he was… loved. The way he would fit so seamlessly into the space the two of you made home. The way he could get up in the morning and let Cookie outside to run around excitably whilst you were still getting ready for the day. Cookie had especially loved living at Owen’s the past few days, having more space than just the balcony had been like having a whole new world for her. Buck imagined the way he could say goodbye to you on the porch, kissing you gently as he walked out to the jeep ready to head into work, a place he felt accepted without having to prove himself, knowing that you’d be waiting there for him at the end of the shift.
Buck could imagine the years to come. He could imagine the nights you’d have new friends over, the team over for games nights or parties - if they wanted to of course. The nights you’d host Owen, TK and Carlos, family nights. Then he pictured the nights where it was just the three of you. The sun setting in the distance, you and Buck curled up on the porch bench, or maybe even a swing if he could put one in. Cookie lying at your feet comfortably as the three of you watched the sunset and listened to the symphony of crickets.
That was what Buck wanted.
You were led outside by Cookie, pulling towards the french doors at the back of the house leading out to the land that surrounded you. Buck and Judd followed suit, stepping onto the back porch. The land around the house was slightly overgrown, the grass long enough to completely hide Cookie as she padded along beside you. Bushes and trees surrounded the outer line far in the distance, fences covered almost completely with greenery which had found home across the land. It didn’t detract from the beauty of the place at all. Buck wondered if there were any gaps in the fences he’d need to patch up-
“Hey, you with me, brother?” Buck flickered his eyes to Judd who seemed to have said something Buck had missed.
“Yeah, sorry,” Buck replied, his cheeks warming a little. “What, er, what were you saying?” Judd looked over to where Buck was staring at you walking through the land with Cookie and let out a laugh and shook his head.
“Oh, I know that look,” Judd’s mouth offered a wide grin as Buck blinked in bewilderment. “You’re gone, man.” As Buck’s lips parted to question him further, his eyes jolted back to you. You dropped back into the grass and disappeared from their view, holding Cookie up above you with both arms as she wriggled in your grasp. “Don’t try to deny it, brother. You got that same look I had when I met my Gracie.”
“Oh, yeah?” Buck asked without pulling his eyes from you. “What look’s that?”
“Like nothing can tear the two of you apart, like you’d fight the whole world for her.” The corners of Buck’s lips lifted as your giggle echoed out across the open land. You are spot on, brother.
“We’ll take it.”
Buck barely moved as you settled down on the couch beside him. Owen had a date. TK was staying at Carlos’. The house was quiet, Cookie resting in her doggy bed, sound asleep. Buck knew she must’ve been exhausted from running around the house and land all afternoon. She had wanted to inspect every area of the house and, after speaking to Judd and doing a quick cursory glance at the fence, it was stable enough for Cookie to be let off the lead for a while. She had scoured every inch of the land, which Judd had explained used to be farmland. The previous owner had sold some of the land when he couldn’t care for the farm any more, but still kept a good few acres, enough for Judd to come down from time to time to ride his horse around the trails.
That had immediately made your eyes glisten at the thought of owning your own farm animals and Buck was almost certain he would be sweeping up after some chickens, cows and all sorts not long after the two of you moved in. He knew he’d never be able to say no to you, not when you looked at him with your wide, bright, sparkling eyes and little pouty lips. In an instant he had seen you walking around in your little denim dungarees, Cookie skipping at your heels, a basket hung on your arm as you walked out to the chicken coup to collect eggs for your baking. Walking through the sunlight, your own joy blindingly bright as you’d pet the different animals and tell Cookie not to follow the chickens around because they didn’t like it. And he could imagine how you’d love every single animal just like you loved Cookie, like they were your own children. Which pulled his mind into a very different and unexpected but no unwelcome direction…
Buck had practically thrown the money at Judd for the house, which was priced unreasonably low. Buck had tried to offer more but Judd wouldn’t take any more, family takes care of family out here. That had hit him right in the chest. Family. Judd saw him as family. Already, before he’d even properly got to know him.
His eyes drifted back to his phone which sat on the coffee table. You had turned it on before you’d left this morning, allowing the phone to intake all the messages and calls while you were gone and avoiding the annoying and anxiety inducing buzzing. Buck had felt a bit worried about leaving it behind in case TK or Owen came back to his phone blowing up in their living room, but you assured him that he had nothing to worry about, that they wouldn’t invade his privacy or force him to talk about it. Buck knew you were right. The first day at the station Owen had pulled him aside and told him he didn’t have to discuss why he had left LA, but to be transparent with Owen if he needed someone to talk to. That he didn’t need to be ashamed of anything.
You rested a hand on Buck’s back, your other reaching for his upturned palm as you twisted your fingers with his, your head dropped against his shoulder.
“Remember, I’m right here,” you muttered quietly, your breath fanning against the side of his neck. “You don’t have to do this now. But either way, I’m not going anywhere.” Buck’s lips twitched.
“I know, thank you, honey,” he hummed as your lips pressed in a gentle peck against his cheek, his own head twisting to peck your forehead just as he had done this morning. “I need to do this.” he reassured, more himself than you as he reached over for the phone and pressed the button that easily had the power to shatter the bubble of happiness he was in, to shatter him into a million pieces all over again just like they had been doing these past few months. But this time, unlike all the times before… he wasn’t going to let them ruin him. Not when he was just rebuilding everything they had destroyed.
Austin was safe. Austin was… home, and he wasn’t going to let them take that away from him.
🍄 Summary: A new beginning brings Buck somewhere that feels different in all the right ways.
🍄 Word Count: 3228
🍄 Abbreviations: Y/N - your name
🍄 Warnings: N/A
🍄 Note: Part 8 in the Butter, Flour and Better Days series. Tag list is open! xoxo
Buck hadn’t thought as far ahead as actually driving out of LA. He hadn’t thought about actually driving away and leaving behind everything that had caused him pain, leaving behind all the memories from the past few months. But he wouldn’t change it. Sat behind the driver’s seat, windows rolled down, heat beating against his skin. This was what he needed. He could feel the underlying tension escape from his pores, falling out onto the road behind him like crumbs from a cookie.
They had stopped somewhere in Arizona, a small motel held them over night and Buck didn’t mind. He hadn’t turned on his phone. The morning the two of you had left was the same morning that Chief Alonzo had taken in his transfer paperwork and spoken to Bobby. Chief Alonzo had agreed that Buck being out of the city when he went to the 118 was the best option for everyone. Buck didn’t want to be in the city when they found out he had transferred and he certainly didn’t want to be in the city when they found out what he had told the chief. Buck knew they’d be blowing up his phone. Even if they didn’t treat him as a friend or family any more, they still had his number and he had no doubt they were sending message after message, ringing call after call trying to get a hold of him. But he wasn’t about to let them taint his future anymore. He wasn’t about to let them weigh him down with guilt that wasn’t his to bear. They had made their bed, and now they were going to lie in it, without him.
Buck’s eyes stared out on the long stretch of road ahead of them, it had taken nearly twenty hours to get to Austin, but as the jeep passed by the sign that welcomed them into the Austin City Limits, he couldn’t help but sigh comfortably. His eyes drifted to the rearview mirror where Cookie was settled in the backseat. You had told Buck this was the longest drive she had ever been on, and Buck had to hand it to her, Cookie had taken it in her stride. A mixture between sleeping, cuddling up in your lap, and chewing some of her toys had subdued her for the long journey and she had barely let out a peep.
Buck had made many decisions in his life, but this was by far the best one yet.
“You okay?” He flickered his gaze to the passenger seat, you were snuggled comfortably against the seat, holding tightly to your pillow - the same pillow you refused to let the movers take with them in the truck - smiling back at him with wide eyes. Buck could see the tinge of concern rushing through your gaze. Even if he said he was fine, you would still study him closely as you had for the past nineteen hours. It had been Buck’s idea to drive instead of fly, partly because he didn’t want anyone else transporting his car anywhere, but also partly because he wanted to spend the time on the road to give him time to decompress. To release anything left in his system from LA and he had done just that.
“I’m good,” Buck admitted honestly. “Like actually good, not like when someone says they’re good because they think that’s what you want to hear-” he cut himself off as his cheeks flushed. “Yeah. I’m good.” Your bright smile seemed to soften slightly as the car moved through downtown Austin. “I can’t believe we’re actually here. I actually did this. I left.” A tornado of emotions whipped through his gut. “Maddie’s going to be so mad,” he muttered.
“Maddie will understand,” you reassured. “She’s your sister and she loves you.” Despite you having never met Maddie, Buck knew you were right, but he also knew leaving without saying anything to her wasn’t the best way to go. If she hadn’t been married to Chimney he wouldn’t have hesitated in telling her. But he didn’t want this to get out to the rest of the team before Chief Alonzo turned up. He didn’t want to deal with their opinions on his decision before he could even leave the city limits.
Your hand reached across the center console and you slipped your fingers through his, tightening around his hand, grounding him. Buck’s thumb traced across your knuckles as he checked the SatNav for the next turning. His face relaxed into a calm smile. This was it. This is what he wanted. A little yelp from the back seat had Buck glancing up at the mirror again, seeing his other girl poking her head up from her doggy bed.
“I think someone needs another potty break,” you giggled, Cookie yelping again as if to agree with you.
“We’re nearly at the 126. Think you can hold it, Princess?” Cookie yelped again and set her head down against the stuffed strawberry in her bed. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Buck grinned.
Downtown Austin was very different from LA. While LA had felt like a hundred cities stuck together, with something happening every space you turned, Austin was smaller. It was compact, but still full and alive. With the windows open, Buck could hear the sounds of various music genres blaring out from the different vibrant storefronts. But it wasn’t overwhelming, it was walkable and warm and like the city wanted you to stay as long as possible, dragging you in through every sound, every look, every moment. Everything in LA had been bigger, louder and faster and at one point, that was what Buck had loved about the city. However, seeing Austin, the town felt so personal. Like you could learn everything about the town in a weekend but it would never get boring and never stop surprising you. Buck loved it.
Turning down onto the road at the far end of the town, Buck’s heart raced as he pulled up outside the 126 station. The truck and engine were sitting in the loading bay and Buck parked off to the side out of the way of the entrance just in case a call came in while they were there. Buck turned off the engine and for a moment he didn’t move. His eyes scanned over the large building in front of him. The last time he walked into a fire station was the day he almost died. The day he was blamed for something that wasn’t his fault. Buck didn’t have PTSD or anything, not like he had over the truck bombing, but still something stirred in his chest he couldn’t ignore. Something he didn’t like the feeling of.
“Hey,” your voice was soft, just enough to pull his gaze back to you, refocusing his attention before his chest could tighten any further. “We do this together, remember? You and me.” A bark from the back seat. “Okay. Sorry, baby,” you rolled your eyes playfully. “You, me and Cookie who apparently thinks this is a group project.” Buck huffed a breathy laugh.
“Sounds like a pretty good team to me.” You giggle gently and rest your head against the chair. Buck’s hand rests on your thigh, his fingers tracing the black polka dots on your white strappy dress. “Thank you,” he muttered quietly. “And not just for having my back now. For everything. For being there. For joining me in this crazy plan to drop everything and move to another state. You gave up everything for me and I never properly said thank you.” Buck swallowed thickly. The last thing he needed right now was to get emotional before meeting his new team and new captain - who also happened to be your closest relatives.
“You’re thanking me like I lost something,” There was a faint tremble in your voice, not from doubt but from how much you meant what you were saying. “I didn’t lose anything, Hero. I gained you.” His hand rose to press against her cheek softly, his thumb tracing circles on your delicate warm skin. The kiss was gentle but full, like it carried every word you said between you both. It was slow and close, more breath than movement, like you didn’t need anything else, just each other. Buck kissed you like he believed you. It wasn’t a question any more. You were his everything. You drifted apart unhurried, like neither of you wanted to be the first to end it, but you also both knew what was waiting for you inside.
Leaning back in your seat, you reached over to the back of the car and hooked Cookie’s pale pink lead to her collar, the puppy hopping over the center console and into your lap.
“You ready? Because me and Cookie already think you’re the hero,” you teased gently. “Now it’s their turn to see what we see.” Buck smiled deeply. For the first time in a long time, there wasn’t an underlying discomfort, there wasn’t anything tugging at his chest, there weren’t memories trying to scare him into walking away. For the first time in months, the need to walk into the fire station was exactly like it was before the bombing, before the lawsuit. He was ready to step into the station and throw himself into the job he had once - and still could - love. He nodded curtly and reached to open the door.
Station 126 didn’t seem as big as the 118 from the first look, but as the three of you moved further in, it was clear the ground floor reached further back than it appeared, plus the upstairs part of the station which hovered above you. Buck’s heart raced as he watched different fire personnel wandering around the station, he wondered if any of them were the team he’d be working with. The thick scent of exhaust and cleaning supplies assaulted Buck’s senses, inviting him further in. Just to the left of the entrance, a thin wall separated the ambulance bay, a large blue and yellow vehicle sitting just through the window, a far cry from the usual red and white ambulances he was used to. Above the window, Buck’s eyes trained up to the large memorial sitting proudly on the wall, presenting the eleven lost firefighters.
Buck had read up about the 126 before Owen had reopened the station. The loss of those men was horrific and a real tragedy for Austin. Buck couldn’t even begin to imagine what that would feel like, losing your entire team in a matter of mere moments. Buck didn’t want to think about it. Owen had mentioned one of the team being from the original 126 squad, the only survivor of the accident. Buck wondered how the guy could walk into the same fire station every day knowing what had happened, knowing what he had lost. Buck couldn’t imagine a more dedicated and courageous individual, someone Buck could only hope to be someday.
“Sprinkles!”
“Trouble!” you called back instantly, even Cookie perked up at the voice, eyes scanning for the source. Buck watched as you launched yourself across the station floor and towards the brown haired man Buck recognised as your cousin, TK. For a relatively shortish man, TK was able to lift you easily from the ground and twirl you around. Your giggles echoed around the station floor and seemed to attract the attention of some of the other firefighters as they came out from wherever they were. Buck couldn’t stop the smile as he watched you happily, Cookie jumping at your feet in the air.
“You made good timing,” TK grinned as he set you down, taking a moment to crouch to greet Cookie properly. Cookie twirled around in front of him before licking at his hand as he stroked her soft fur. “Did you even stop for a rest?”
“Oh yeah, we stopped at a motel in Arizona. I wasn’t going to let Buck drive the whole way out,” you explained, turning to look at Buck who was still a few steps away. You outstretched your arm, hand inviting him closer. He stepped over, his hand landing in your own as you gently tugged him by your side.
“Evan Buckley,” TK greeted with a smile. “You’re taller in person.”
“Thanks,” Buck smiled back. “I worked really hard on that.” he joked a little nervously. TK let out a small laugh as your arm wrapped around Buck’s arm, fingers spreading across his lower back, drawing soothing circles which instantly relaxed his tightened muscles.
“Is that my sunshine I hear?” Owen Strand reached the bottom of the steps, grin on his face as he took in the three of you stood together. He didn’t hesitate to open his arm and wrap it around your shoulders as he got close enough. Your arms left Buck briefly to respond. Buck noticed how your breathing seemed easier as you leant into your uncle’s shoulder, a soft sigh escaping your lips as they pulled into a permanent smile. “How was the ride in, good?” You nodded against his shoulder and then stepped back to Buck’s side.
“It wasn’t so bad,” you peered up at Buck encouragingly. “Right, Hero?”
“Oh yeah, it was great. Great views. You’ve got a pretty cool town here.” Buck nodded, his heart still pounding against his chest as he looked across to his new captain. “It was actually pretty calm too, figured the traffic would be bad but I think we made good timing with the whole thing.” Buck paused for a moment then rushed to outstretch his hand to Owen. “Sorry, Evan Buckley, sir.” He greeted, secretly hoping his palms weren’t as sweaty as he imagined them to be.
“Just Owen, or Cap,” Owen shook his hand. “Whatever works for you, son.” For a second Buck’s breath caught in his chest, stuck at the base of his throat. Son. He hadn’t heard that in such a long time. With Bobby, he had only called Buck that on a handful of occasions, he had seen Buck as a project, wanting to be his mentor and Buck had always felt like he’d have to earn that title to get it from Bobby, even if he did see Bobby as the father figure he had never really had. But this was different, like he didn’t have to earn it here.
“Cap,” Buck corrected with a smile. “And thank you, Cap, for having us stay until we get a place. Hopefully we won’t be under foot for too long.”
“You take as long as you need,” Owen smiled. “It’ll be nice having all my children under the same roof for a while.” Your cheeks warmed as you leaned into Buck’s side, a content smile spreading across your lips. “When is your stuff getting here?”
“Tomorrow,” you answered. “It was cheaper for them to deliver midweek than beginning or end, so if all goes well they’re expected around lunch time tomorrow.”
“Well, you don’t start your shift until Monday so that gives you a couple days to settle,” TK added. “Get a chance to see the town. There’s a pretty good farmers market Carlos likes, I’ll see if he can show you sometime.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Buck smiled, remembering you mentioning Carlos being TK’s boyfriend.
“Here, why don’t the two of you come and meet the rest of the team? We’re off call for lunch since we had a long call this morning. We’ve still got a half hour until we’re back on rotation.”
Owen led the two of you deeper into the station, into a modern kitchen which was nicely stocked. Sat around the dining table in the center were a few firefighters, all looking up as you entered. Owen made quick with introductions and Buck was surprised at how easy it was to talk to them. He had thought he’d struggle to connect, having stayed in the same station since he was a Probie. But everyone here was so kind and put him at ease instantly. Seeing you connect with his team was just as fulfilling as Buck had wanted it to be. The polar opposite of what it had been like when you met the 118. Here, there wasn’t a wrong word in the place.
Buck noticed how your eyes flickered to him from wherever you were, sitting at the table, standing by the counter with TK, deep in conversation with Judd or Marjan. It didn’t matter where you were, you made sure to check on him periodically. The warmth that spread through Buck’s chest was immediate each time. You were making sure he was okay. Like you were prepared to grab his hand and drag him out of the station the second he seemed uncomfortable. Cookie clearly didn’t hold the same sentiment. She was basking in the attention from the firefighters and she had made quick friends with Buttercup, the firehouse Bernese Mountain Dog who was almost five times her size but that didn’t hold her back. She kept nipping at his tail, bouncing at him enough to rile him up to chase her, it was all harmless and she seemed to be having the time of her life. Watching closely, Buck couldn’t help but wonder how you’d feel about getting a second dog to keep Cookie company…
It wasn’t until later in the early evening, just as the sun was beginning to set over Austin, casting a warm orange glow over the city, that the three of you left the 126 station. The team had been called out a few times and Owen had taken the opportunity to give Buck the time to fill out the last pieces of paperwork needed for him to start on Monday. Unlike at the 118 when Buck would walk out of the shift and feel a heavy sigh of relief settle through his bones. Here, he felt a pang of disappointment, knowing he wouldn’t see the team again properly until later in the week. He felt disappointed that he couldn’t get down and dirty straight away. The whole time he’d been there, he’d wanted nothing more than to muck in with the rest of the team and roll out with them with every call that came through. He knew it was only a few days but Buck was ready to get stuck in. because here, he felt wanted. Here he felt… full. He longed to feel it again. Just a couple days. You can last a couple days. It wasn’t that Buck wasn’t excited to settle in Austin, he just… already felt settled. He already felt like he belonged, like he was in the right place where he should have been this whole time.
“So?” you asked softly, opening the door of the jeep and settling Cookie back in her dog bed. Buck’s eyes glanced from the station then back to you. He felt something he hadn’t felt in such a long time. Certainty.
“Yeah,” he nodded decisively, opening the driver's door. “This feels right.”Buck didn’t feel like he was trying to belong somewhere, didn’t feel like he was trying to be someone he wasn’t to impress his team. He did belong. He belonged, not the other versions of him he was forced to parade around at the 118. Buck was himself, and this time… that was enough.
🍄 Summary: After an unexpected meeting confirms his transfer, Buck begins packing up his life and finally lets go of what he's leaving behind.
🍄 Word Count: 3151
🍄 Abbreviations: N/A
🍄 Warnings: Upset Buck
🍄 Note: Part 7 in the Butter, Flour and Better Days series. Tag list is open! xoxo
The call was unplanned, unexpected and it stressed Buck to the core. Buck had rarely been involved with the chief of the LAFD, he had only ever seen the man when things were bad with the station, like when Bobby had been suspended, when Eddie had been shot and when the entire 118 had been suspected of robbing the bank. So this was terrifying. Buck couldn’t help but wonder if Bobby had finally gone and put in a complaint about him, or if someone else had put in a complaint about him to the LAFD about his supposed behaviour at the call. His stomach churned with fear and anticipation as he drove himself down to the LAFD building. Fear of what he did know and fear of what he didn’t know swirling in his mind. He wouldn’t have put it past one of the 118 to put in a complaint against him, to say something false about how he worked at the station or on a scene, why would he expect any less with the way they had been treating him. Best case scenario? The chief recommended he transfer out of there. Worst case scenario? The chief would recommend Buck leave the station without reference and reached out to Owen in Austin to tell him the lies the 118 painted about him. Both scenarios made him a bit queasy and he was suddenly glad he hadn’t had that extra chocolate orange cookie you had made this morning.
Sitting outside the chief’s office suddenly reminded him of his time in school. The idea of sitting outside the principals office had been nerve wracking as a kid, and that didn’t change now. The thought of being in trouble and having his parents find out was the worst kind of fear a kid could think of. His parents weren’t overly present in his childhood and his fear of disappointing them ruled his life. The thick plastic chair dug into his back as his knee bobbed continuously, his eyes resting on the clock stationed above the receptionist desk. The last time Buck had been here was because of the lawsuit, when the LAFD had welcomed him back with his job. The chief had been friendly enough then, especially when Buck had turned down the large cash payout and just asked for his job back with no publicity and no meeting before a judge.
Buck had already unbuttoned the top button of his shirt in hopes of cooling himself off. It didn’t matter that the office had a fully running air conditioning, he was sweating bullets. He wondered if the receptionist could notice his nerves. If she knew what the chief wanted to talk to him about. Would it be bad to ask her? Would him being this nervous affect anything the chief had to say? Buck wasn’t sure he was in the right frame of mind right now to respond to whatever the chief had to say, especially if he was going to be expected to defend his actions at the structure fire scene. What if he fumbled his words? What if he said something that worsened the chief’s opinion of him? Buck avoided eye contact with the receptionist when she looked over, hoping it masked enough of his nerves so that she wouldn’t suspect the anxiety prickling along every inch of his skin.
Buck closed his eyes and took in a calming breath, his fingertips tightened around the decorative white box in his lap. Sweet treats put a smile on everyone’s face. You had told him that morning when you had all but forced him to take them with him. He wasn’t against sharing your treats, but he hadn’t expected you to make some for the fire chief for him. What if the chief thought he was trying to bribe him? Still he had taken them with him when he got out of the car and he fully intended on sharing them with the chief, he couldn’t see you disappointed like when he tried to share them with the 118 and he couldn’t hide them and lie to you, that would only amplify the guilt by hundreds. You were just too kind for this world. Too kind for Buck. What had he done to deserve someone like you? What had he done to deserve to bask in your sunshine glare?
“Firefighter Buckley?” the receptionist called from her desk, phone pressed against her shoulder. “The chief will see you now.” Buck nodded, pushing up from the chair and walking down the short corridor to the chief’s office. Standing outside, he hesitated. He didn’t know what waited for him beyond the wooden door, but he also knew he had to be prepared to take whatever was going to be thrown at him, good or bad. No matter what, he had another job waiting for him and if he didn’t make a good impression on the chief he knew that it wouldn’t make a good impression on Owen in Austin. The last thing he needed was for this job to fall through, trapping him at the 118 and trapping him in the endless cycle of pain and misery he had been subjected to. Another deep calming breath and Buck knocked on the frosted glass window. The sound of the chief’s voice inviting him inside.
Chief Alonzo was a grey haired man with a kind smile and a friendly demeanor. Even back when Buck had last been in this room, the chief had been nothing but cordial and kind to Buck despite the situation presented before him. And now was no different.
“Buckley, come in, come in,” He waved Buck over to the chair opposite the desk, two glasses of water already perched out on the desk for the two of them.
“Oh, er, hi chief,” Buck offered a small smile of his own. “I, er, I bought these. My- My girlfriend made them and wanted me to share them with you,” he handed the box over to the chief and hoped it didn’t seem like he was trying to butter him up for anything. “If that’s okay? They’re just some lemon and orange cookies- she didn’t know what you’d like so she figured-”
“They look great, Buckley! It must be some woman you got yourself,” The chief popped open the top of the box and grinned, peering in at the treats. “These are all homemade?”
“Oh, er, yes sir,” Buck nodded. “She owns the little bakery along the high street. Cookies and Crumbs? She loves baking. And she’s great at it too, can’t go a day without trying something she’s made.” Speaking about you eased the tension in Buck’s soldiers. He was thankful he was able to bring you into the room with him figuratively, like the safety net he was needing there to soften any blow that could come his way, even if you couldn’t be there in person.
“Why are you so tense, Buckley? Calm yourself, you’re not in any trouble.” Buck let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and sagged back in the seat slightly. These seats were definitely more comfortable than the ones out in the hall and they supported his weight lightly as he settled back comfortably against the cushion.
“Sorry, chief,” he muttered. “I just- I wasn’t, I didn’t… I didn’t know why you called me in.”
“Just for a friendly chat, Buckley,” The chief gestured to the glasses on the table and for Buck to take a drink, which he did gladly, the cool water soothing his dry throat. “I had a phone call yesterday morning, from Owen Strand down in Austin, Texas,” the glass froze at Buck’s lips for a second. “He was telling me about you wanting to transfer down there. I was surprised, after everything you went through earlier this year, I didn’t expect you of all people to want to transfer to another state,” Buck’s eyes redirected away from the chief, a wave of guilt washing over him. “I just wanted to check in with you and find out what’s going on,” Buck nodded and set his glass against his knee, his fingertips tapping the rim nervously. “I’m surprised Bobby didn’t mention it to me.”
“I, er, I did ask for a transfer, sir,” Buck admitted. “But I haven’t put the paperwork in with Bobby,” he paused. “I was actually hoping to hand in the paperwork and deal with it here, sir. If that’s okay, I mean.”
Buck couldn’t even begin to imagine the humiliation and the… the abuse he’d have to deal with from Bobby and the team if he handed in the transfer paperwork to Bobby directly. Because that was what it was… abuse. It had taken Buck a while to get around to calling it that, but when he had spoken to you, something you said resonated with him. If someone was treating me that way, would you expect me to take it? Buck had instantly said no, and told you he’d expect you to march into HR and tell them about how the person was treating you, that you didn’t deserve that kind of abuse. So, why do you think it’s acceptable for them to abuse you in that way? Buck didn’t have an answer for that. At first he would have said because of the lawsuit, but as you had pointed out, he had used the lawsuit to get back to his family, not to hurt them, that was an unfortunate collateral damage which he had tried to stop his lawyer from doing. It wasn’t as if he had told his lawyer to tear them apart in the way that they did. He just wanted his family back and if Bobby wasn’t letting him have his job, that was the next course of action to get back to the 118. What Bobby had done was against the LAFD recommendation. He hadn’t let him back even after he had been cleared by the LAFD medics themselves. If Buck had gone to the chief, Bobby would have probably lost his job. With the lawsuit, it gave Bobby the option to open his job back up to him without losing his position as captain. If anything, he had saved Bobby’s career even if he and the 118 didn’t see it that way.
“I mean, it’s not regulatory,” the chief responded, eyes trained on Buck, assessing his reaction. “But I can make an exception. Captain Strand is an old friend of mine and I’d hate to see this drag out longer because of regulation. But Buckley,” Buck’s eyes peeked up. “There must be a reason you’re so keen to keep this under wraps.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement and Buck knew the chief was fishing for a reason. “I won’t pressure you, Buckley. But if there’s something going on in one of my stations, I’d like to know about it so I can make sure I don’t lose any other exceptional firefighters to it.” Buck’s breath caught in his throat. Exceptional firefighters. The chief thought he was an exceptional firefighter, which was hard to believe after everything the 118 had been calling him and saying about him.
“Sir, I,” Buck stuttered and took another sip from his glass. “I-I don’t wanna get anyone in trouble,” he admitted. Buck almost hated his own answer. He hated that he still couldn’t imagine not protecting anyone at the 118, even after everything they had put him through. Everything they had done to him and he still felt the overwhelming need to protect them.
“I can’t guarantee that, Buckley,” the chief responded more calmly, trying to put him at ease. “But, I have to take care of all my firefighters and from what some of the 139 have been telling me, you haven’t been taken care of in the way you should be.”
Buck’s heart thudded in his chest. The 139 had spoken to the chief? About him? About the way Bobby had been treating him? The shock of discovery hit him at full force, his throat clogging up instantly.
“Yeah, they were pretty concerned about how you got caught in that structure fire alone,” he continued. “Regulation dictates, no firefighter goes in alone or is left unsupervised without a partner inside a scene. They say you and firefighter Diaz went in together but you both came out alone. That true?”
Buck could feel his heartbeat in the base of his throat, his blood wooshing in his ears, everything else cancelled out in that moment. His hands trembled as he sipped from the glass again, the tumbler shaking in his grasp. Once again, his knee bobbed uncontrollably and Buck pressed his other palm against his thigh, rubbing up and down forcefully trying to stop it. He couldn’t- this couldn’t happen in front of the chief. What kind of firefighter had this reaction? Stupid. Get your shit together. Don’t give him a real reason to fire you.
“Buckley?” Buck’s eyes swept back to the chief who was looking at him now with a deep set concern. The look Buck was trying to avoid. Buck was forced to set the glass tumbler down as a strong tingling began in the tips of his fingers, his hands filling with a static feeling. His stomach clenched uncomfortably. Buck’s muscles strained as his head dipped forward, a curt and painful nod. “Alright, okay. Do you need a minute?” The chief’s voice wasn’t judgemental, it wasn’t accusatory as he looked back at him. Buck knew the chief could see his glassy eyes and the tenseness that took over his body. He could see the strain as Buck pushed himself to answer him, and he knew that the chief could see every action, every comment, every single piece of abuse that the 118 had thrown at him written across Buck’s face.
Buck closed his eyes briefly. In and out. His fingertip pressed into the material of his jeans, he slowly traced a star shape into his thigh. Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Hold. He repeated it all the way around the star, just like you had shown him that night, the night when he told you everything. The night when breathing became the hardest thing Buck had ever had to do. Star breathing, you called it. It sounded childish, but nothing had helped Buck more.
Right now he was making a decision. A decision for himself and he had to accept that he would probably hurt people in the process. But he needed this. It was finally time to put himself first for a change. A new step in the direction of a new future, a brighter future with you and Cookie and Austin.
“I-I’m okay, chief,” Buck muttered. “But - er… I’d like to tell you everything.”
Buck didn’t think it was going to feel good and although he was somewhat relieved to have gotten it all off of his chest to the one person who could make a difference in the 118, the guilt was still there. He still struggled with telling the chief everything. It had been a few hours since his meeting with the chief had ended. After a two and a half hour meeting, with Buck confessing to everything that had happened, laying it all out in front of the chief and the chief taking it in patiently, not pushing Buck but listening, just like you had - Buck had gotten in his car. He had sat behind the driver's seat, not moving for another hour. And then he drove.
Buck didn’t know where he was driving, not really. His jeep moved throughout the city, no destination planned. Just moving. He needed to keep moving. He would soon leave this place, travel to Austin and begin again. He would never forget about what the city had given him and what it had taken away. But he would begin again, start over, turn over a new leaf. He could be the Buck he wanted to be, without fear of judgement or disappointing anyone. He could be just Buck. Not Buck 2.0 or 3.0 or Buck from the accident, or Buck ‘firehose’. He was just Buck, which was all he had ever wanted to be.
The car had finally stopped outside a familiar building. It held the home of his sister and former teammate Chimney. He didn’t get out of the car, just looked up at the building. He hadn’t told his sister he was leaving just yet. He didn’t know how, really. How could he explain to his sister that he was leaving her, leaving his home because of her husband? Because of the abuse he had dealt with from the people they called their friends? Their family?
Buck was relieved when chief Alonzo said he would speak to Bobby about the transfer himself. That he would save Buck from ever having to go to the 118 again. The chief had asked about his living arrangements in Austin, if he needed any help setting up a temporary place. It was the kindest thing anyone had ever asked. It was something the old Bobby would have done and it had hit a sore point in his chest. Buck had told him about your uncle’s offer to house the three of you until you found a place. Owen had mentioned someone on the team having a property they had been trying to get rid off and that the guy was happy to offer it at a low price for you. Neither of you had seen the property yet, but it opened a bright door for the future he had imagined with you and Cookie. Everything was seeming to fall into place. The world was settling around him and for once there wasn’t a dark cloud in sight.
You were rushing around the apartment when he got back. Cardboard boxes stacked everywhere, some full, some half empty and others waiting to be filled. Buck had emptied his apartment first, his boxes stacked by the front door of your apartment. His landlord was kind enough to release him from his tenancy agreement early. Cookie padded along behind you, and Buck launched himself forwards as she almost got caught under your feet, your body lurching forwards, the box in your hands almost tumbling to the ground. As Buck’s arms wrapped around your waist, the scent of his LAFD hoodie mixing with your own vanilla smell from where you had stolen the jumper earlier that morning - he looked around the apartment. Cookie had settled herself comfortably in one of the open boxes, the stuffed strawberry you had found at the grocery store clutched between her teeth as she looked up at the two of you innocently.
This wasn’t the end of LA.
This wasn’t the end of firefighter Buckley.
This was only the beginning and the beginning was looking brighter by the minute.
Hii lovely!! I just wanted to tell you how much I LOVE your Butter, Flour and Better Days series!! Your writing is SOO amazing and it's so nice to finally have some good buck x reader stories to read!!
Thank you so much for it and also for being so constant, you're incredible :))
~🪻✨☄️
Ah, thank you so much Anon! 💕
I'm so happy to hear you're enjoying the series. It's my favourite series to date. I wanted to make sure I did it justice and I'm glad to know so many people are enjoying it :)
After the series ends I'm planning on adding some side standalone scenarios/oneshots to go along with Reader, Buck and Cookie (and the other characters of course). Some of my own ideas and open to requests from readers! ❤️😊
The next part will be uploaded tomorrow, so stay tuned! 🤩
🍄 Summary: A breaking point finally forces Buck to chose a different path, but will it mean losing you?
🍄 Word Count: 3029
🍄 Abbreviations: N/A
🍄 Warnings: Traumatic experiences for Buck, distraught Buck, Buck NDE, OOC 118 team
🍄 Note: Part 6 in the Butter, Flour and Better Days series. Tag list is open, reply to the post to be added! xoxo
Neither of you spoke about it, which Buck was thankful for. But the offer from your uncle hung in the air. Buck couldn’t stop thinking about it. How casually Owen had indicated he wanted Buck on his team. Despite everything, someone wanted him. He wondered if your uncle knew about the lawsuit, if he’d rescind his invitation as soon as he found out how much trouble Buck was, as Bobby had put it. When he realised taking Buck on would be more trouble than it was worth.
In the days after the phone call, Buck couldn’t think of anything else. Austin, Texas. The lone star state. He had never been to Texas himself, but he had imagined what it was like. Eddie spoke of El Paso often and he wondered if the two places were similar. He wondered what it would be like waking up in Austin, driving to work - a place he wasn’t anxious about entering. He wondered how the team worked at the fire station, if it was similar to the 118 or if it worked differently out there. He wondered what it would be like working with a team who didn’t make snide comments or exclude him from family dinners.
But it wasn’t that simple.
How could Buck even think of leaving LA? His job was here. His sister was here. You were here. Your bakery was here. Buck couldn’t even begin to imagine or hope that you’d give all that up, give up everything you’d worked hard for just to move to Texas with him. It was unfathomable to him. Why would you relocate just because he was dealing with these work issues? But still he couldn’t get it out of his head. Driving to work, he pictured Austin. Walking into the station, he pictured the 126 in Austin. Listening to his team mates talk around him, he imagined talking with them. The seed Owen had planted was securely sticking its roots down.
You don’t just leave.
You don’t give up on your family.
You fix it.
The nagging voice in the back of his mind wouldn’t let up. And it was right. You don’t give up on your family. Buck had shown that for weeks when he took on the lawsuit and continued on for months as he fought to get his place back at the 118, with his family… they may have been a bit upset with him now, but surely it would pass eventually… right? Buck didn’t know anymore. He had hoped for days, for weeks, for months now. He had gone back into work every day hoping the shift would be different. Hoping that this would be the shift that they realised he wasn’t trying to hurt them with the lawsuit. But with every shift, the hope drifted further and further away. But still he tried.
Buck had barely made it onto the station floor and to his locker when the alarm went off, his white treat box stuffed in his locker as he rushed for his turnout gear. The truck began moving before he had even stepped up, everyone already inside. Buck blamed it on himself being slow. It didn’t matter that he held the record for the quickest firefighter in the station. It was then that Buck realised there was no headset on his seat. The one piece of equipment that allowed him to communicate whilst on the drive to the call. With the siren blaring there was no way for him to hear any of the team, who were clearly having their own conversations amongst themselves without him. Even as he moved to tap Eddie’s shoulder, his teammate twisted his body away from him, turning to Chimney and talking animatedly.
When they arrived at the structure fire, the place was in chaos. The people who had managed to evacuate themselves being led out to the ambulances scattered around. Some people who were still trapped inside were moving over to the windows waving frantically for someone to see them. One ladder truck was already raising to some of the higher windows ready to extract some of the helpless civilians. As soon as his boots hit the gravel, the team was on the go.
“Right, Hen and Chimney, you get the ambulance up and running, get these people seen to,” The pair nodded and rushed to the back of the ambulance opening the doors and leading off some of the people who had escaped. “Eddie…” Bobby paused, his eyes landing on Buck. This was it, Buck knew Bobby wouldn’t send Eddie in alone, not with these other stations watching, he couldn’t go against regulation now. “Take Buck and sweep the second floor. Stick together. Understood.” He pointed his tone at Buck, who ignored the implication and nodded curtly. Eddie rolled his eyes and began moving towards the building, mask already in place. Buck rushed behind. Stick together. I can do that.
Buck wasn’t certain what he noticed first. Was it that he arrived home ten minutes later than usual? Was it the dark black soot marks that marred his skin, causing an itchy sensation he had ignored until now? Was it the fact he hadn’t changed out of his usual 118 attire to come home in his own clothes? Buck couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. His lungs constricted in his chest painfully tight. Every breath took him back there, every inhale smelt of the thick black smoke he had battled through in the structure fire. Every step reminded him of Eddie. Leaving him alone. When they were supposed to stick together.
When the staircase had collapsed to the second floor and Buck realised Eddie was gone, his body seized. His muscles constricted painfully. Where was Eddie?
Buck barely greeted you as he walked into the apartment, drifting past the butter-blonde noodle as she made her way to welcome him home. There were no words. There was no smile, no relief that he was back home with you. Everything felt like it had months ago. When he had been trapped beneath that truck. Everything felt frozen in time. He barely noticed the downturn of your lips as you took in his disheveled look, the absence in his eyes.
“Buck-?” The concern dripped from your voice as you abandoned your rolling pin, hands covered in flour and circled the kitchen island to get closer to him cautiously. “Buck, hey, what’s wrong-”
“I’m going to Austin.” It wasn't a question, wasn’t an idea… not any more. His words were final. Decided. The silence stretched between you for a few minutes as you absorbed his words.
“Okay,” you nodded slowly. Not dismissive, just waiting. “Okay, Hero. Can I ask what made you decide-?” you added carefully, not wanting to push or upset him. Your eyes watched him closely, taking in every movement. The way he was twitching on his feet, not able to stand still. The way his breathing came out hurried and uneven. The way his eyes flickered around the room.
“I almost died.” The weight of the words made Buck’s body collapse into your arms as he forced the words out. Your arms wrapped around his body tightly, like you were the only thing keeping him standing. His knees shook beneath him, the floor feeling like it was disappearing from under him. Buck allowed himself to fall into you completely. You were his raft on a fast and uneven ocean. You were his safety line, pulling him back to the shore. And right now? He felt like he was drowning. Buck’s body rocked violently with sobs as he pressed his face into your shoulder, trying to shield himself from the painful agony that shot through him. Your vanilla scent washed over him, the softness of your grey jumper tight in his grasp as his hands fisted the fabric, like he thought you’d disappear if he let go.
Slowly, you manoeuvred the two of you to shuffle to the couch, tugging him down into the soft cushions and allowing him to curl up around you, pulling you impossibly closer. His misery was so acute, it was turning into physical pain. It was like a steel weight, resting against his chest making it hard to breathe. Each breath was tight, twisting up his insides and tying them in painful knots he couldn’t unravel. A sensation of intense sickness washed over him.
Died. It sounded like he was exaggerating, but this wasn’t an exaggeration. This was a fact. Eddie had left him. Even after Bobby had told them to stick together. He had abandoned him, left him in the burning building, near zero visibility and no one had batted an eyelid. He had been trapped, the staircase dropping out from the floor and leaving him stranded on the second storey. If it wasn’t for the other station's firefighters stumbling across him as they evacuated the floor above, he could have been stuck, forgotten, lost. He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to remember how some of the walls had collapsed making the ceiling unsupported, or how the lower ceiling had caved in on itself just as he had reached the third floor. The suffocating sensation tightened in his throat as he buried his face closer into your jumper, your fingers reaching up to rake gently across his scalp in a soothing motion.
This time the silence wasn’t comfortable. The silence wasn’t soothing. The silence was haunting, deafening. It was filled with memories, from before and from today. All as painful as each other, all as agonising to remember. He yielded to the compulsive sobs that shook his body from the inside out, his frame shaking viciously as each ripped from his throat. He swallowed hard as the metallic taste filled his mouth, his teeth clenching into his lip hard enough to draw blood. The pain was nothing in comparison.
Buck didn’t know how long the two of you stayed like this. How long you spent holding him, Cookie sitting at the foot of the couch patiently waiting to check on her favourite human. But it felt like hours. Even as his sobs began to subside, he didn’t move. Not ready to face the reality that he had almost not come home to you. He had almost broken his promise. Even though it wasn’t his own fault, it had struck a chord deep in his chest. He hadn’t known this morning could’ve been the last time he’d seen you. The last time he’d gotten to hold you. He knew his job was dangerous, but he had never considered it would be dangerous because of the people he trusted… the people he used to trust. He couldn’t say that now.
The last ounce of patience, of consideration he’d had for them, had burned down along with that staircase. For a moment he had considered Eddie leaving him was a mistake, an accident. But when he had emerged down the ladder of the 139’s truck and seen Bobby standing off with the team, patting them on the back as they rallied around the truck - he knew it wasn’t a mistake. Eddie was laughing with Bobby, as if Buck hadn’t gone into that fire with him, as if he hadn’t abandoned him alone amongst the blaze. They barely acknowledged Buck as he came over to the truck, that was until Eddie climbed into the truck and Bobby had turned to him fury and disappointment swimming in his eyes. He had demanded to know why Buck had left Eddie, as if he was the bad guy. Buck couldn’t even get a word in, explaining that he had stuck to the second storey when Eddie had left and gone down to the first floor without telling him. Buck was in the wrong in Bobby’s eyes once again. There was nothing he could do or say to change his mind. He doubted that Bobby would even consider believing what he had to say. The ribbing from the rest of the team once they had gotten back to the station was relentless. The comments overwhelming. Buck was ashamed to admit he had spent most of the off-time in the toilets, out of the view of the team. As Buck explained everything to you the words had burned his tongue.
“I can’t do it anymore,” he mumbled into your jumper. “They’re supposed to have my back, but they didn’t. I could’ve… I-I could’ve died, and they… they didn’t care.” His voice cracked as the realisation of his words set in. He could have died. Not because of the fire, or because of the call but because they didn’t have his back, because he could no longer trust them. He would’ve never hesitated to throw himself into a burning building, to throw himself into an impossible situation if it meant saving his teammates, but they wouldn’t do the same and that was clear now. “I’m leaving. There’s nothing at the 118 for me anymore.” he admitted, agonisingly. It was the painful truth, that even now, was still hard to swallow.
There was a flicker in his chest as he pressed himself tighter against you, he hadn’t thought past leaving. He hadn’t thought on the way home about leaving everything behind. He only thought about how he needed to leave, to get out before this job - this team killed him. He hadn’t thought about Maddie, though he knew his sister wouldn’t be happy, she also wouldn’t stop him if this was really what he wanted. And there were always phone calls, video calls, visits. Would he miss his sister? Absolutely. Would he visit when he could? Without a doubt. It wasn’t like when she left with Doug. She had vanished through thin air, refusing his visits because she wanted to protect him. This wasn’t the same. Buck would absolutely have her visit if she wanted and he wasn’t opposed to coming back and seeing her every chance he could. Buck wasn’t abandoning his family, he was choosing himself for a change and this was the perfect time to do it.
But he hadn’t thought about leaving you. He couldn’t ask you to come with him. He knew he couldn’t ask you to leave everything behind like he was.
“I don’t, I don’t expect you to-”
“Hey,” your voice was both soft and firm as you spoke. You gently nudged his head away from your shoulder, just enough that you could see his face blotchy and flushed from the tears. “You didn’t think I’d let you go without me, did you?” the soft edge of your tone tugged at the corners of your lips as you stared at Buck’s stunned expression. “My lease on the shop ends in a couple weeks. There’s a few units in downtown Austin up for grabs. A nice one out by the bank, with some outdoor space too-”
“Wait, wait- hang on-” Buck mumbled, “Are you serious?”
“Evan Buckley. Hero,” you said gently. “I love you. Did you honestly think I’d let you run off to another state without me?” For a moment, he just stared at you, like he hadn’t quite understood your words - but he still felt them so utterly deeply. The world seemed to settle around him, like everything found its place, everything was exactly as it was supposed to be. Buck hadn’t realised how much worry he had carried home with him, until you said those words. You were coming with him. To Austin. “We’d have to find a place, of course. I have some savings-”
He didn’t let you finish. He kissed you like your words had undone him completely. It was sudden and full. His demanding lips caressed yours, soothing, gentle but also full of passion and need. His lips parted yours in a soul-searching massage. Everything fit into place. He swept you, weightless, into his arms, tugging you over to settle in his lap, your legs on either side of his hips. A wave of excitement lurched in his stomach as he pulled his lips away from yours and traced an imaginary line down the side of your throat, your soft honey skin warm under his touch. He could feel your erratic pulse thumping against him as he pressed open mouth kisses along your neck and shoulder, relishing as you shivered against him. The swell of your breasts pushed against his chest as he drew you closer.
Every day, his love deepened and intensified and it all seemed to be coming to a head at this moment. His aching need, his addiction to you, his devotion seeping out of every pore of his body. Your hands reached forwards, arms wrapping comfortably around his neck. You breathed lightly between parted lips, your breath was warm and shaky against his face and it sent a spark of desire through his body. He gazed up at you, your eyes half-lidded and dazed, your long eyelashes fluttering against your flushed cheeks. His heart hammered against his chest, his pulse racing in his ears. Slowly, his hands moved downward, skimming either side of your body, teasing the bare skin just under your oversized jumper and then slipping further to rest against your thighs, a bright flare of desire flooding your eyes as his hands stroked the skin of your exposed thighs. Buck had never been more grateful for the invention of sleep shorts in his life. He could feel your breathing hitch as your head fit perfectly into the hollow between his shoulder and neck, his fingers inching closer to the waistband of your shorts-
Bark.
You both froze and in unison turned to the source of the noise. Your little furbaby staring up with a tilted head and wide, maybe even judgy nutmeg brown eyes. Neither of you could control the burst of breathy laughter that escaped you. Your body’s shaking with need and humour as the puppy bounded up the ramp and onto the couch coming to wrestle her way between the two of you. It was clear Cookie had no idea what she had interrupted as she licked at Buck’s face, unbothered by the saltiness of dried tears on his skin.
🍄 Summary: After everything came to head, Buck spills the truth and sees a glimpse of a way forward.
🍄 Word Count: 2967
🍄 Abbreviations: Y/N - your name
🍄 Warnings: Still sad Buck
🍄 Note: Part 5 in the Butter, Flour and Better Days series. The Tag List is open for this series so please reply to the Tag List post if you want to be added xoxo
You were patient. It was a patience he hadn’t expected, but a patience he was thankful for. He had told you everything that night. The jabs, the comments, the isolation, the exclusion, everything. You had listened. You weren’t angry he hadn’t told you. You weren’t annoyed at him for keeping this from you. You laid with him, your body resting half on top of his own, like some kind of weighted blanket, a weighted blanket Buck didn’t know he needed. Just the soothing vanilla scent of your body wash was enough to ease the tenseness in his limbs, loosening the tightness in his chest enough for the words to come tumbling out effortlessly. There was no rushing, no forced lies, no almost truths. He told you everything without hesitation.
Because he knew he could.
Buck knew there would be no judgement from you. That you wouldn’t ask him why he had filed the lawsuit in the first place because you didn’t need an explanation. He knew that you wouldn’t blame him for telling his lawyer everything he did. Buck knew you wouldn’t bombard him with questions or make comments on what had happened. And he was right. You listened. You absorbed. And then? You held him tighter than you ever had before. Your arms wrapped tightly around him, your face pressed against his neck, your breath tickling his skin. His arms had encircled around you, one hand pressed to the small of your back, nudging you impossibly closer. Tears had blinded his vision as you held him and for once, he didn’t push them away.
The days after had been different. Not a bad different but different because now you knew everything. Now you knew what he was fighting when he got up in the morning for work, when he slowly made his way to the door, hovering as long as possible without making himself late. Now you held him a little longer when he hugged you goodbye. Now you kissed him like you were trying to fill him with enough of you to push him through the day. Cookie would shadow him the whole morning, as if she knew something had changed. His own little guardian noodle.
You still made treats, but not for them. Only for him. All packaged up in a neat little white box, you’d hand it to him saying ‘Figured you could use a little extra happiness today’ like it was the most normal thing in the world. You made some of his favourites every day, knowing the ones he liked most like the lemon zest shortbread cookies - heart shaped and topped with pink icing. It wouldn’t be until he got to work and sat at lunch to eat his treats that he’d find the little pink heart sticky note buried in the bottom of the box under his sweet snacks. Sometimes they were short, other times long, but he savoured them all the same. Every one showed him just how much you were with him every step of the way. He collected them and had them stuck in the back of his locker, just out of view of anyone who walked past, but there always. For when he needed a moment, for when he needed a pick-me-up or for just when he needed… you.
You didn’t ask how his shift was at the end of the day. You didn’t question him about his calls and you didn’t expect him to tell you about them either. Instead you were always waiting, either in the kitchen or curled up on the couch with Cookie. The words falling from your lips gently, ‘What do you need?’ You’d pat the seat beside him or open your arms invitingly at him. He’d press his forehead against your shoulder, your fingers slipping through his hand, his grip on you tight, but not painful as he anchored himself, releasing whatever the day had thrown at him.
Today was like no other. It had been relentless. He’d been out on calls and Bobby had held him back. When they’d turned up to an apartment building fire there was already another team on hand and when they had asked for Buck to come over and help some of their guys with the lower floor sweeping, Bobby had stopped them. Telling them he was only there to supervise from on the ground, that he wouldn’t be any help to them. He’d demeaned him in front of the team, in front of another team. It was different being in front of the 118, they all had their comments and opinions, but to do it in front of another fire captain, another fire house… Buck had frozen. Embarrassment, humiliation… a mixture of both soaked through his veins. ‘He’s not ready for that yet, we want to save lives, not add to the body count’ Buck had never put people in danger. Buck had swept buildings countless times. Never had he ever left someone behind during a sweep. And yet here Bobby was, painting him to be a failure, painting him like a probie straight out of the academy.
“Can I say something?” This was new. You never asked questions about what happened, you never said anything because you knew that you couldn’t talk about a situation you had no involvement in. But today was different. Buck’s body tensed slightly and he nodded against you.
“You don’t have to stay somewhere that makes you feel like that.” Your words sounded so plain and simple. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t simple. These people were the people who had been Buck’s family since he had joined the 118, they were the people he had trusted, the people he had worked side by side with every shift. The people he trusted to have his back, and up until recent events, they were his people. He didn’t feel defensive. No, how could he be defensive over something that wasn’t his anymore? Just… conflicted.
“It’s not that easy,” he muttered against your neck, the corners of his lips tugging slightly as you shivered against him. You nodded gently.
“I know.” You paused for a moment, eyes trained ahead. “But you don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve to feel like this after every shift,” you sighed. “Now I know what you’ve been going through… it makes me feel awful for not knowing sooner. You having to deal with that all on your own wasn’t fair.”
“It’s not your fault,” He pulled his head away enough to look into your eyes. “I didn’t say anything. I don’t want you to feel bad about this,”
“I don’t feel bad.” you admitted. “I feel angry. Angry that they think they can treat you this way. Angry that you have to deal with them every shift.” The edge to your tone was something Buck had never experienced before, but he couldn’t deny the tiny burst of pride in his chest knowing you were so defensive of him. The same kind of defensiveness he always felt for you.
Buck had scolded himself over a hundred times since the dinner incident. He hadn’t defended you in the way that he should have. He shouldn’t have let them talk to you, about you, like that. He should have said something. But he froze. The words had caught in his throat. How could he turn his anger towards family, the people who he had trusted with everything, the people he had once felt this same defensiveness for - and sometimes still did despite everything that had happened.
“Honey,” the words wouldn’t form. He wouldn’t defend them. What could he say, that he deserved it? That it was all his fault. Even if he did still find some truth in that, he couldn’t tell you that. He knew your stance on this, he knew that no matter what he said you would never let him blame himself for their actions. He could still remember the one thing you had said that morning after he confessed everything. The one thing you had a strong stance on. Yes, you sued them, but you sued them because they wronged you first. Why does that give them the right to treat you like this for something they started?
“You don’t have to explain,” you whispered softly, as if you could read his mind. “I just- you’re spending every shift with them, trusting them to have your back even though they’re showing you time and time again they don’t have your best interests at heart any more,” Cookie barked from your feet waiting for the bowl of food you had been preparing when he arrived home. “I worry, that’s all. I need you to come home to me.”
Home.
There was that word. The one thing he had been longing for before he had joined the 118 and now the thing they had taken away from him in a heartbeat. But he had found a home. Here, with you. Buck had found out that home wasn’t a place, not really. For years he had thought that the 118 station was his home. That the building was where his home was, the one place he belonged, the one place he felt important. But the last few months had changed that drastically. It wasn’t his home, not really. This was his home. Right here. With you. In your little apartment, or at his when you stayed over which was less than he cared to admit, your apartment holding less painful memories than his own. Wherever you were, that was his home. Home was a person, not a place - or people in this case, if he counted Cookie, which he definitely did.
Cookie, being the other mindreader in his life, pressed herself against his ankles and rested her body weight on his feet, comfortably pinning him in place, offering soothing comfort to one of her favourite humans. Her little brown eyes peered up at him as if to say ‘This is your home, forget about them’. Again, easier said than done.
A heavy buzz pulled Cookie’s eyes from Buck, her ears twitching as she looked around for the source of the noise.
“You should get that.” Buck could see the hesitation in your eyes as you flickered between your phone and his face. He knew you were torn, wanting to continue comforting him. You grabbed the phone from across the counter island and scanned the screen. TK. He could see the corners of your lips tug up into a small smile despite everything.
“Do you mind if I get this?” Buck shook his head and gently nudged Cookie off of his feet, she stood and followed on his heels as he walked over to the couch, dropping his jacket over the arm and slumped down onto the cushions. Cookie padded over to her slope and walked up onto the couch, moving over to rest her head on his lap. Buck could hear the call from here.
“Hi, stranger!” your cousin's voice was bright and warm, similar to your own. If you were both in a room and Buck was blindfolded, he was sure he could pick the two of you out as family in a heartbeat. The same happiness filtered through the facetime call as you grinned at the screen. As you chatted away about the bakery and Cookie, Buck allowed himself to relax. He didn’t have another shift for 48 hours which was nice. The 118 had been gifted some extra time due to a big rescue they had helped out on, which meant 48 uninterrupted hours with you. With his home. Nothing sounded better than that. A quiet whine came from the butter-blonde noodle in his lap, meaning Cookie was ready to head out to relieve herself after her big dinner.
Buck stood from his seat and gestured to you he was going to take Cookie out onto the balcony. You smiled and nodded.
“Wait - who are you smiling at?” Buck’s hand froze over the handle of the balcony door, eyes wide having been caught out. Buck blinked at you, unsure if he should move, unsure if he should say anything.
“Oh, that’s Buck,” you decided for him. “My - my boyfriend.” Your smile widened as you spoke.
“Did you say boyfriend?” another voice entered the chat, slightly deeper than TK’s.
“Hey uncle Owen!” you greeted cheerfully, as if you hadn’t just revealed something neither of them knew about. “How are you?”
“Don’t ‘how are you me’, young lady,” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Well, are you going to introduce us to the man?” you looked at Buck silently. It wasn’t a forced introduction, it was an invitation. Was he ready for this? Your eyes asked all the questions you didn’t speak aloud. He knew you wouldn’t force him onto the phone call if he didn’t feel comfortable, but before he could overthink anything, his feet guided him over to the kitchen and next to you. Where he belonged.
“Er, hi - hi there. I’m Buck,” he stuttered slightly. His mind fluttered with anxiety as he faced the two most important people in your life.
You had told Buck about how your parents had passed away when you were young, and how you had gone to live with your uncle Owen Strand and cousin TK Strand. They had become your closest family, being the only other relatives you had at the time. You and TK were basically the same age with only a year between the two of you and it had made it easy to slip into the siblings role rather than the cousins role. No one could ever replace your parents, but they had done an amazing job of being a great surrogate family in their absence.
“Oh my god, I’m finally putting a face to a name!” TK’s face lit up instantly.
“Wait, you knew about this?” Owen asked, seemingly faux offended by the revelation. TK rolled his eyes a little and turned to his dad.
“I didn’t know everything, just that she was seeing someone.” Owen’s eyes settled on him and Buck’s hand raised in a slightly awkward wave.
“Hey.” For a moment nothing was said, and Owen continued to peer through the screen, eyes squinted and eyebrows knitted in focus.
“Wait, hang on… you’re Buckley, right?” Buck blinked, caught off guard by the recognition in the man’s voice. He scoured his brain for a moment, trying to think back to if he had any memory of the man in front of him. He drew a blank. “From the 118. You were on that high-rise rescue a couple years back - the one that went sideways.” Stunned, Buck turned his gaze to yours.
“Hang on, you saw that?”
“Saw it?” Owen huffed. “Kid, that was some of the best work I’ve seen under pressure.” Buck’s chest warmed, his cheeks heating and turning pink as he fumbled over his words, flustered. Suddenly, his thin shirt was far too tight and far too thick for him to cool down his body.
“I, uh, it was a team thing,” he began to brush it off.
“Still,” Owen said. “Takes someone steady to hold that together.” Buck had become used to other people commending him for his work, but he had also gotten used to people not commending him in the last couple of months. With everything the team had been spitting at him, he had forgotten what it was like to be recognised for the things he was doing right.
Buck could feel the heat of your gaze in the side of his face. He was sure the smile on your face couldn’t get any wider, or any prouder as it beamed from your expression. You were proud of him. The heat in his chest wasn’t uncomfortable, it was wanted and deserved. Buck was sure you could see the change in his demeanor. He wasn’t used to people talking to him with respect like this any more. But it felt good. It felt like everything he had lost the past few months was slowly trying to crawl its way back to him.
The tension in his body eased as he chatted with Owen about the rescue and the ease of conversation only helped him acknowledge the safety he felt here. Out of the station and at home with you by his side. Your hand had shifted to rest on the small of his back as he spoke, laughed, shared memories with this man who only minutes before was a stranger to him. A stranger who had more respect for him than any of his team had, had in months.
Your hand rubbed soothing circles into his back, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake as TK asked -
“You still with the 118?” his muscles began to tense slightly under your hand as his mind wandered back to the team he was with now, compared to the team he was with then. The same people, but different in all the wrong ways. The hesitation in his words seemed to hit Owen, the man’s eyes narrowing slightly but not unkindly. Like he was assessing the answer Buck had given, searching for all the hidden meanings in his words. Buck was a little surprised you didn’t interject or tell Owen and TK about his current relationship with the 118. He trusted you not to share his business, but it was also clear from earlier that you were mad, angry as you had put it.
“...Yeah, yeah I am.” The two men nodded their heads, some level of understanding in their eyes. Again, similar to you, they didn’t push. They didn’t ask questions. “Well, if you ever find yourself looking for a change,” Owen broke the silence. “We’ve got a good team out here in Austin. Always room for someone solid.”
🍄 Summary: A chance encounter with the 118 leaves a sour edge to what should have been a simple night out.
🍄 Word Count: 2979
🍄 Abbreviations: N/A
🍄 Warnings: Buck is completely and utterly entranced by you, OOC 118 team, 118 being rude and unkind, Buck in pain, sad Buck and sad Cookie 🥺, slightly sexual implications, but no actual smut
🍄 Note: Part 4 in the Butter, Flour and Better Days series. Tag list is now open for this series xoxo
Buck had attempted to prepare himself on the walk up to your apartment. He had imagined a thousand times how you would look tonight. It was a proper date night, not like the nights you stayed late at the bakery messing around in the kitchen, or when you bought take out and sat and ate it together in front of the TV screen, watching pointless shows when the two of you were more interested in looking at one another. This was a take-you-out-on-the-town kind of date. A new Italian place had just opened up a few blocks from your apartment and from what Buck had overheard from the B-shift team, it was a popular joint with good food and live music on Saturday nights.
After watching you dance around the bakery and your kitchen to your speaker, Buck had been dying to get you out and dancing to some music on an actual dance floor. He had been picturing you dancing around in his mind, the way your body swayed to the music. The way you would naturally twist and turn, slowly to the sensual music, body pressed up against his. Hips swinging passionately, his hands lowering to rest on them possessively. You’d flutter your eyelashes at him, your cheeks flushed with heat as you grinned your tongue poking out to brush against your plump lips, seductively…
Buck shook his head as he reached the landing just below yours. If he didn’t stop thinking like that, he was going to need a cold shower before going out and there wasn’t time for that tonight. Buck paused, brushing a hand through his hair as he tried to slow his breathing, his heart practically beating out of his chest. He opened and closed his clammy hands a few times, completely forgetting about the small bouquet of daisies he had collected on the way and fumbling when he almost dropped them onto the ground. He glanced up at the last flight of stairs which separated him and you. With a deep, calming breath he climbed the final set of stairs reaching your floor and headed along the hallway. His mouth drying by the second as he stood still outside your apartment door. The door he’d let himself into a dozen times in the past two months.
But this time he didn’t.
He was doing this right. He was picking his girlfriend up for their date.
His fingers teased at the neck of his dark blue button-down. He’d purposefully left the top few buttons open, not liking the enclosed feeling around his neck but that didn’t seem to make a difference now, his body feeling like it was overheating in the thin material.
He eyed the broken door bell for a moment. He’d fix that tomorrow. He raised his fist and knocked. The gentle bark inside the apartment had the nerves running through his veins ease ever so slightly. He couldn’t make out what you were saying on the other side of the door, but he could hear the muffled sound of your soft voice. His heart rammed against his ribcage dangerously. If he wasn’t medically trained, he’d be sure he was having a heart attack.
The door pulled open and you stole Buck’s breath straight from his lungs. Even in this, still mostly casual, outfit, you looked like something he’d dreamed up. The simple dusty pink fabric of your dress, dotted with little white flowers, hugged your figure perfectly in all the right places.
Buck’s lungs screamed at him and he finally took in a breath, easing them from their near-suffocation.
“Hi,” he greeted breathlessly and as he did, you flashed him that blinding smile again. The one that could knock anyone off their feet. Tonight you’d added some kind of lipgloss tint to your plump lips and they shone in the apartment lighting.
“Hi yourself, Hero,” you smiled gently, cheeks lightly flushed as if you’d been rushing around. A yip at your feet, pulling your eyes to the small bundle of fur desperately trying to squeeze between your legs and escape the apartment to get to Buck. You rolled your eyes playfully. “You’d better come in before she escapes into the hall and makes a run for it.” Buck slipped into the apartment and Cookie, as always, launched herself at his legs before he could even take a moment to crouch down for her, tail wagging furiously.
“Hi, hi, hi,” Cookie licked his chin. “Hello Princess.” Cookie basked in the attention, allowing Buck to ruffle behind her ears and stroke her back tenderly.
“I just need to grab my purse, then I’m ready to go,” Buck nodded as Cookie went sniffing around the bouquet in his hand, pawing at it suspiciously.
“Oh, shoot, hey I got these for you,” Buck stumbled standing and thrusting his hand out towards you, the stems a little limp from Cookie’s investigation. His cheeks warmed as he attempted to straighten them out. “Sorry.”
“They’re beautiful, Buck,” You smiled, taking them from his hand. “I’ll put these in water. Thank you.” You pushed up onto your toes to press a kiss to his lips and Buck short-circuited. Your lipgloss was strawberries. The kind of strawberries that had been left in the sun. Sweet, almost syrupy and softened with the hint of vanilla - warm and creamy underneath. It was soft, dangerously soft. Intoxicating. Just when he thought he couldn’t be more drawn to you, to be more addicted to you. He sighed looking down. Cookie seemed to have a knowing look in her warm brown eyes. As if she knew he was screwed. He ran his fingers through his hair again.
This is going to be a long night.
Buck’s hand tightened in yours as you walked along the street, the hot day leaving a cooling breeze in its wake as the sun had lowered, a gentle, burnt orange blanketing the city. The dusk light only seemed to amplify your beauty to Buck. His fingertips itched to trace your skin. His tongue tingling, wanting to draw a line down your neck, lowering along the top of your dress, gliding across the rich expanse of your cleavage, your skin like honey.
Buck resisted the urge to groan. He regretted taking the extra shift now. He had volunteered hoping to get into Bobby’s good books, but it hadn’t made a difference. Instead of his usual 24 hour shift, this one had lasted 32. It was only a couple of extra hours but clearly those few hours had made him feral. The caveman side of his mind unrestrained and taking full control over his thoughts and senses. His eyes drifted down to where your dress rested against the middle of your thighs which were long and dangerously exposed, inviting him to follow the curve up to the swell of your as-
Nope. No. Nuh uh. The stir in Buck’s lower abdomen was enough to force him to move his eyes away, focusing them on the signs on the restaurants along the street front.
“Hey, you okay?” your voice pulled him from his inner turmoil. “You’re looking a little flushed,” your velvet lips twisting into a small downturned frown. “If you’re too tired, we can head back. I know you had the extra shifts-”
“No, no, everything’s fine!” he rushed out. “Just a bit warm that’s all, the sun was hot all day. I think maybe I’m getting sunburned.” Buck felt the guilt the second the words left his lips. He’s been stuck in the station the entire 32 hour shift checking inventory and back up equipment. Another of Bobby’s unnecessary punishment tasks. He hadn’t seen a glare of sun all day. Your eyes narrowed slightly but you seemed to buy his excuse.
“Alright,” you said slowly. “If you’re sure,” he nodded. “Oh is that the place?” His eyes flicked ahead to the newly painted sign. Giano’s Italiano.
“That’s the place.” The outside was spacious, with lots of outdoor seating. The setting was illuminated by an array of standing wicker baskets, big ball lights stood inside them. It was calm and definitely cosy and intimate, every table adorned with a candle. Also very popular. Buck could barely see an empty seat anywhere. He was glad he’d called ahead and reserved.
The inside was just as warm and just as busy, people seated everywhere, chatting happily, digging into their delicious-looking meals. Buck came to a stop by the podium near the entrance, waiting for one of the staff to come over.
“Oh, Buck, look,” your eyes widened in awe as you looked up at the fairy lights threaded through the ceiling beams around the restaurant, letting off a light orange glow. “Isn’t it beautiful.” His eyes burned a hole in your cheek as you spoke, noting the golden flecks of excitement in your own eyes.
“It is,” his voice soft. He didn’t care about the lights. He didn’t care about the perfectly arranged hanging baskets brimming with bright flowers which were scattered around the restaurant. He didn’t care about the candles and warm light that made the room feel intimate. He cared about you. Stood in front of him, looking like you’d walked out of heaven with the glittery shine in your eyes as you took everything in. You were the only beauty he could see. You outshone everything in this place and you were completely oblivious to just how stunning you truly were. Buck was going to show you just how exquisitely bewitching you were. Even if he had to show you every day for the rest of your life to make you truly understand and even when you did, he wouldn’t stop showing you every day that he had the blessing to spend by your side.
A sharp and eerily familiar laugh cut through Buck’s hopeful future image and just like that it shattered across his mind into tiny pieces. His head twisted to the side, following the source of the sound. There was a reason it was familiar. He’d heard it at work, at parties before… before everything. It stuck like a knife to the chest, burning against his ribs and aching painfully. There at a long, decorated table near the window was Bobby. Bobby and Hen. Bobby and Hen and Chimney. Bobby and Hen and Chimney and Eddie. And their families. All sitting around the table, half eaten plates sat in front of them, all laughing, all enjoying themselves oblivious. Oblivious to the aching pain which shifted through Buck, tearing through everything he had been trying to rebuild. The family he had fought so passionately and diligently to get back were sitting having family dinner without him. Buck knew they hadn’t invited him, he hadn’t even known they were going out, but a small voice niggled in the back of his mind wondering if they just forgot, if maybe just maybe they had mentioned it in passing and he had forgotten himself. Had he blown them off?
“Buck-?” Your confused eyes followed his gaze to the table just behind you, to the 118 family sitting around the table enjoying their meal. He could feel your eyes peering back at his face, seeing the cold pain in his expression, the happiness draining from his face, replaced with a raw agony he struggled to contain. His shoulders tensed almost painfully.
“...Is that- Is that your team?” you questioned in a cautious tone. “Did you know they were coming here?” Buck hated that you were seeing this in real time. Seeing the heartbreak, the betrayal, in live action. Seeing everything he had been dealing with for months. Seeing everything he’d been trying to shield you from, all now laid bare in front of you. Like watching a movie he couldn’t pause or rewind, a movie you were forced to watch.
“No.” He choked out the word, emotions clogging his throat. Curt. No explanation. But it was confirmation enough for you.
The whole atmosphere shifted at the realisation. The warm light turned cold and isolating. The buzzing crowd now suffocating him slowly.
“Do you want to-”
“Buck.” The damage was done before you could suggest leaving. The evidence he was wrong hit him square in the chest again as he caught Eddie’s eye and Eddie’s expression seemed to ice over. The people who he had once called family, called brothers and sisters, were cutting him out. He hadn’t forgotten. He hadn’t blown off the team. They had blown him off. They had excluded him. They had cut him out. Clinically and unapologetically.
Their heads turned to the pair of you, the laughter fading out.
He hesitated. This trainwreck was happening whether he liked it or not. Better to climb aboard before he got crushed beneath it. He stepped forward gently guiding you by his side, his palm warm against your back. His fingers felt cramped as he resisted the urge to curl them into fists to fight the anxiety winding through his veins.
“Hey,” he croaked out, coughing slightly to clear his voice. “This is, uh, this is my girlfriend.” He hated how they didn’t reciprocate the kindhearted smile you offered them. Their faces frozen in time.
“Hi, I’ve heard a lot about you all.” It was a polite lie. You didn’t know why he hadn’t mentioned them, but you weren’t going to let it show and you certainly weren’t going to upset them by saying he hadn’t spoken about them. A few of them exchanged glances silently. You clocked the awkwardness in a heartbeat, your eyes flickering up to Buck’s face. The silent question perched on the edge of your tongue. What’s happening right now?
There wasn’t an invitation for him at the table. There wasn’t an offer for him to pull up a chair and join them. This wasn’t an oversight. It was a choice.
“Didn’t know you’d be around here tonight,” Bobby spoke up, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Buck’s shoulder lifted in a shrug.
“Yeah, we just came out for dinner.” Bobby hummed with interest, not approval. I don’t need his approval Buck told himself as his chest ached.
“With your girlfriend?” The accusatory tone in Chimney’s voice whisked up a state of nausea in Buck’s stomach. “Clearly Buck one point oh has found his new favourite type of hook up. The naive kind.” Buck felt sick to his stomach as your head flinched back at Chimney’s comment, a flutter of poorly hidden laughter echoing around the table. He didn’t want this. You wouldn’t take the brunt of his jokes. Buck wasn’t going to subject you to the same torment he had been dealing with day in, day out.
“Always figured Buck would end up playing house somewhere.” Hen added quietly in a failed whisper. Buck could feel his lungs constricting, his breath trapped in his chest. His hand trembling slightly against your back. He fisted his hand to stop the shaking, to no avail.
“Careful Hen, don’t upset him - he might file paperwork over dessert.” The blows were coming hard and fast. It reminded Buck of the movies when arrows were shot at the enemy, thousands at a time, leaving them little time to shield themselves. Buck didn’t have a shield. Buck was exposed and under attack.
“So what,” Eddie turned his gaze to Buck. “Are you gonna sue her when this all goes wrong?” his hand waved between the two of you and it was the final nail in Buck’s coffin. His eyes burned furiously.
You took his hand from your back and entwined your fingers with his eyes glued to his face.
“Hey,” He tore his gaze from them and inhaled deeply, his lungs burning angrily. “Do you want to go?” a small burst of relief settled in his veins as you spoke. He didn’t trust himself to speak. He didn’t trust that he’d be able to keep it together long enough to apologise to you. He didn’t speak to them. He didn’t acknowledge them. Just a nod.
Your politeness gone. Your kindness hidden from them as you turned and tugged Buck towards the door. Apologising to the waiter on the way who had just come over to show you your table. Buck flinched as the table fell back into comfortable conversation.
You didn’t speak. You didn’t ask questions. You were just there. Leading him along the street. Your hand squeezed his tighter, showing him you were there. That he wasn’t alone, despite the hollow ache in his chest. He was tense the entire walk back to your apartment, his silence deafening as he walked past Cookie. The puppy, confused by the lack of excitement in one of her favourite humans. You didn’t force him to speak as he headed into the bedroom changing out of his clothes and into the joggers he left at yours. You didn’t hover as he splashed his face with water in the bathroom. You didn’t demand an explanation as you settled on the mattress in your room, eyes following his figure as he grabbed a glass of water with shaking hands from in the kitchen. Your silence spoke more than words ever could.
Buck wanted it to shift. He hadn’t expected it to hurt this bad. He had thought the weeks of ignoring him, the weeks of comments, the weeks of pushing him aside would make it hurt less. But it was as if they’d carved out his heart with a rusted spoon and left the rough edges raw and shredded. His chest throbbed, ached, an invisible agony burning through his blood, searing in his heart.
Buck’s feet walked him back to the bedroom. You were curled up on the bed, Cookie laying across your lap looking for comfort. Your hand stilled along her back as Buck’s voice cut through the soothing silence, raw and uncontrolled, thick with tears, eyes glazed over.
🍄 Summary: As your relationship deepens, Buck finds comfort with you, but the cracks in his life at the 118 begin to quietly show.
🍄 Word Count: 2210
🍄 Abbreviations: N/A
🍄 Warnings: Mentions of issues with co-workers
🍄 Note: Part 3 in the Butter, Flour and Better Days series x
Buck’s attention begins to lie on you. Every moment of the day. Every second of his shifts. His eyes admiring your small figure curled up against his chest in the early hours of the morning, his internal clock having woken him up before his alarm. The same as the day before and the day before that. Neither of you had defined what this was, but it was something. It was something real. Probably the only real thing Buck could grasp onto at the moment and he loved every moment of it.
He loved every moment of you.
His eyes clung to you, roaming over your figure silently as your chest rose and fell gently. You had a delicate beauty about you and in this morning light, glares creeping in through the thin curtains of your bedroom window, you were amplified. Buck basked in these moments. The warmth of your skin pressed against his, your cheek smushed against his chest, hair tickling his neck. He wouldn’t change a moment of this. A wiggle from the smaller sleeping companion tore Buck’s eyes down to the butter-blonde puppy who had made her home comfortably between you the night before. Cookie had also found her place. It was expected now for the excitable noodle to snuggle up between the two of you before you slept, not that Buck minded. She had claimed her spot, just like he had claimed his right beside you.
His chest warmed as your eyelids fluttered softly against your smushed cheeks, cracking open to land on him. His pulse raced as you snuggled closer to his warmth. Buck’s arms tightened automatically, his nose resting against the top of your head, your strawberry shampoo invading his nose, he sighed contentedly.
“Morning,” his voice slightly gruff from sleep. Some of the best sleep he’d had in a while.
Buck was used to nightmares popping up here and there from the bombing. They weren’t every night, but they’d definitely gotten worse since the troubles at work. Although they hadn’t gone completely, you definitely helped. Just your presence alone seemed to calm his mind enough to drift off.
“How long till you leave?” you asked into his shoulder, a pleasurable shiver running through his spine as your lips press to his neck, the touch as light as a feather but more powerful than anything he’d experienced before.
“An hour,” he replied, glancing at his phone, a little disheartened. Today was a shift day. 24 hours away from you and Cookie. 24 hours with the people he used to see as family. Buck fought the urge to whine as you began to roll away from him, fist swiping at your eyes pushing the sleep away as you swung your legs over the side of the bed. Without hesitating he stretched across to your side of the bed, arm wrapping around your waist and tugging you back across the bed and into his arm. A little yelp escaped your lips before it was overwhelmed by giggles, a sound that had quickly become one of Buck’s favourites. Cookie, having been woken from her sleep, jumped instantly into the pile, yapping happily.
“Hey!” You giggled peering up at the firefighter in your bed.
“Where do you think you’re going? I’ve got an hour,” he repeated. “That gives me at least ten more minutes of cuddle time.”
Buck’s shower only lasted twenty minutes, but that only left thirty minutes for him to get to the station. Yes, it was closer from your apartment, but he still had to take into consideration the LA traffic had been crazy lately and the last thing he wanted was to give Bobby something to scold him for. He hadn’t put a toe out of line since he had returned to the station and he wasn’t about to break that now.
Almost as if you sensed the tension in his body, your face popped up from behind the kitchen counter as he walked out, grabbing his jacket from the couch as he passed.
“You should get going,” You smiled. “Don’t wanna be late.” Buck stepped up behind you as you continued to roll out a pastry on the counter.
“You’re warm,” he sighed into your shoulder, still disgruntled that he had to leave.
“Well, I have been working with the oven,” you teased gently. He stood still for a moment, arms wrapped around your waist softly squeezing, collecting every ounce of quiet, every ounce of safety from you. He hoped it would be enough to see him through the day.
“‘S not the oven,” he mumbled against your skin, a small smile spreading on his face as you shivered lightly. “‘S all you. You’re warm. Safe.” The corners of your lips twitched as you turned in his arms, eyes staring up at him as you pushed yourself up just enough to join his lips with yours. Buck’s body sagged slightly as the warmth of your pale plump lips pressed against his. You both stood entwined with one another, like puzzle pieces of a jigsaw fitting together seamlessly. His fingers twitched as they rested on your hips, the thin fabric of your sleep top hovering just above your belly button, allowing him to press his hands against your delicate skin, soaking in the heat. It was a simple kiss, unhurried and sure, the kind that said I’ll be back and meant it.
Buck let out a shaky breath as he pulled away gently.
“I need to go,” he almost gave in as your rosy lips - now darkened from the kiss - formed a pout. “Don’t make that face at me or I’ll never leave.”
“That’s an option?” you asked with feign innocence and Buck let out a chuckle. Buck stepped back as you reached across the counter for a small white box. “I made extras for you to take with you, figured you could share some with your team.” Buck didn’t have the heart to tell you they probably wouldn’t care. He hesitated for a second, seeing your kind smile. He nodded.
“Yeah… they’ll like that.” He wondered if you could see the lie in his eyes. He hated lying to you. He didn’t want to throw all his burdens on you. It was bad enough that you listened to every fear and worry he had, every time he wanted to talk about his shitty shift, you were there. That was enough of a burden. The last thing he wanted to do was dull your sunshine.
The guilt was eating him alive.
He was about to come back to your apartment with the box still brimming with cookies. It wasn’t you they didn’t like. It was him. And because he had brought them in, they didn’t eat them. Buck’s chest clenched as he glanced at the box on the passenger seat of his jeep.
What’s this Buckley? You gonna sue Bobby for head chef now? Chimney’s words rattled inside his brain. No one had defended him. No one had told Chimney it wasn’t a great joke. No one has said anything. They hadn’t listened when he told them he hadn’t made them. They didn’t care. It was a meaningless throwaway comment. But not to Buck. To Buck it had hit him square in the chest, winded him. His burdens were leaking over you, someone they had never even met, purely because you were associated with him and that was the last thing he wanted.
Each step closer to your apartment had him hoping that you’d already be tucked up in bed asleep. He knew it was unlikely, he had come over to yours after a shift on more than one occasion and you were waiting up for him, baking away with your speaker playing soft pop tones as you danced around your kitchen. He had no doubt that today would be no different.
Buck felt around in his pocket for the key you had bestowed upon him. When Buck had found out about your very poor hiding spot for the key and lectured you about how unsafe it was to leave it out, you had decided to put it in the safest place you knew. With him. That had knocked the wind out of him. Fingers grasped around the small metal key, he pulled it from his pocket. In true you fashion, the key had little blue flowers printed on it. He slid it into the keyhole and twisted quietly unlocking the door, just in case you were asleep.
Tiny pattering raced across the soft flooring and barrelling around the corner came Cookie. Crouched down, Buck barely had time to move the box out of her reach before she hopped in his lap reaching for the untouched treats.
“Hi, hi, hi,” he grinned as Cookie licked at his face. “I missed you too. Let me guess, your momma’s baking huh?” As if the puppy understood his words, she hopped from his lap and bounded back towards the kitchen, Buck slowly following behind. Sure enough, there you were, flour-dusted and warm. You barely had the chance to turn before he was there, pulling you in tight against his chest. His heart fluttered as you practically melted into his arms. “Hey, honey,” he greeted, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. In this moment, the whole shift felt worth it. Like everything he’d had to deal with faded into the background compared to this moment right here, right now.
“Hey, Hero,” she greeted back, twisting just enough to press a kiss to his own cheek. Basking in the warmth of your embrace, he forgot to slide the white box behind him and out of view, your eyes glanced at the still full box confused.
“Oh, did they not like them?” Buck hated the way your shoulders slumped a little, the corners of your lips tugging down. Like someone had thrown a dark cloud over your personal glare of sunshine.
“No, no - they did. They did like them. They- they just weren’t that hungry.” he quickly replied, wanting to ease the disappointment in your usually bright eyes. “I didn’t want them to go to waste, thought we could eat them and watch a movie.” His suggestion brought a little twinkle back into your gaze and Buck had to resist the urge to sigh with relief.
“Sure, let me just finish up here,” you smiled, turning back to your counter. You had been placing cookie cutouts onto a baking tray as he had arrived. Buck made himself busy, heading for a quick shower and change of clothes. The relief aching in his muscles. He’d really dodged that bullet.
This was one of Buck’s favourite places. Well, you were one of Buck’s favourite places. Curled up on the couch in front of the TV, Cookie stretched across her cosy bed at the foot of the couch. Everything calm, everything quiet. Your heat radiated through his body as you laid against his chest, cheek smushed just like it had been this morning. The heavy waves of the day melting away into nothingness.
“How was your shift?” And just like that, they wormed back into his mind, his body tensing slightly. He knew you were just being kind, it was in your nature. But that didn’t make it ache any less.
“It was fine.” He replied curtly. He knew his answer stirred you somewhat, your head lifting from his chest, your eyes examining his features closely. He wished you would let it go, but he knew you better than that.
“You said the team wasn’t hungry, was it an easy day? Did you have many calls?” Buck shrugged it off. “You never really talk about them.” It wasn't a question. Despite telling you about the calls he would go on, he had very rarely mentioned the team. He didn’t think he’d even said their names in front of you. In some ways, it felt wrong, not talking about the people he had called family. Talking about the people he had fought so hard to get back to. But on the other hand, he didn’t want to bring up the people who were currently so angry at him that they ignored his presence, or worse made fun of it. He didn’t want to admit how miserable his job was. He didn’t want to admit that he had a ball of dread in the pit of his stomach every morning when he realized he needed to leave for work. After everything he had gone through to get his job back, he wouldn’t feel like this, he couldn’t. What kind of failure would that make him in their eyes? In yours?
“Not much to say.” He replied quietly, eyes glued to the bright screen in front of him. He could feel the concern rolling off you in waves, but you didn’t push.
Your hand slipped into his, your fingers curling around his own. You didn’t need words. You didn’t need answers. To make him feel safe, all you needed was you. You wouldn’t push him. You wouldn’t force him to tell you all his secrets, you didn’t need that. His fingers tightened around your grip, like he needed it. Needed you. Buck wouldn’t keep you in the dark forever, but right now, he just needed this.
🍄 Summary: On their first date in her closed bakery, a flour fight and soft laughter leads Buck to realise it’s the first time he’s truly felt okay in a long time
🍄 Word Count: 2476
🍄 Abbreviations: N/A
🍄 Warnings: Some mentions of troubles at work, but brief.
🍄 Note: Part 2 in the Butter, Flour and Better Days series. I am falling in love with this series, expect more very soon! x
Cookies and Crumbs became Buck’s safe space, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit that. It was the one good constant in his life. When he wasn’t on shift, he was at the bakery. Something about the cosy hole-in-the-wall bakery made everything seem less loud. Made the guilt more bearable. At first, he had worried he was becoming a nuisance, but every time he turned up, he was greeted by the same thing. A little pounding of paws on the wooden floorboards, and your sunshine smile putting him in a daze. No matter how many times he turned up, your smile never faltered, your dimples blinding him. Buck knew no matter how bad the shift was, he could turn up at the bakery and all his stress, his worries would melt away under the scent of freshly baked cookies.
“Hey, you’re back!” you grinned from behind the counter, where you were carefully stacking shortbread slices onto one of the display shelves. Buck dropped into a crouch before he even replied to you, the butter-blonde noodle launching out from behind the counter and straight into his open arms. “How was your shift?” You always asked the same question and then somehow managed to convince him to have a treat for free just to take the edge off.
“Not great,” he admitted. He hated feeling like he was dropping his burdens on you, but in the two weeks of him visiting you had never told him to stop telling you, and every time you listened. It didn’t matter if it was the same shit as the shift before, you listened. “Better now, I get to see you two.” He scratched Cookie behind the ears as she licked his chin, his eyes remaining trained on you. Your cheeks dusted a delicate pink colour, the perfect tone to stain your skin. Buck’s grin widened as he sent a wink your way. Your cheeks darkened as you flickered your eyes away. “You know, she does this every time I come by,” he chuckled. “I think she’s chosen me.”
The dusty rose of your cheeks darkened. “Yeah, Cookie’s always had good taste.” Your eyes locked with Buck’s and for a second, the world stood still. He could feel his own cheeks warming under the skin. With a small, satisfied smirk, you grabbed a napkin and plate from the pile. “So what’ll it be today, firefighter Buckley? A cupcake? Cookie? Or something from the experiments I made this morning?”
“I’m feeling daring today,” he replied, standing as his eyes perused the assortment of baked goods. “Let’s have an experiment. What were you trying out today?”
“I tried something new with my rocky road recipe,” you explained, reaching into the glass cabinet and sliding a triangular slice onto a napkin. “Tell me what you think,” you beamed holding it out to him. “And be honest!” Buck knew before he even put the slice into his mouth that he was going to like whatever you baked. Over the past two weeks he’d tried an array of different experiments, not that he’d complain, each was nicer than the rest. You had a real passion and talent for baking. Buck couldn’t help but feel his heart skip a beat every time you offered him one, he’d try anything you made just to see the bright excitement pool in your eyes.
“This is really good,” he mumbled around his mouthful. “Did you switch up some flavours?”
“I added some vanilla short bread bites in there,” you explained, bouncing on your heels. “Just some leftovers I didn’t want to waste. Do you really like it?”
“Are you kidding?” he asked, wide eyed. “This is incredible! You nailed it.” Your grin split across your face, beaming and blinding him. Buck reciprocated your grin. Cookie seemed to agree as she wagged her tail, letting out a little yelp. “Cookie agrees.”
You fell into the same rhythm you had in the days before, Buck sitting at his favourite table, the closest one to the counter. Cookie running around the place, playing with Buck’s shoelaces like the adorable menace she was. You baking out back and serving the customers when they came in. But mostly, you and Buck falling into the casual and somewhat flirty conversation that you both felt comfortable with. It had become the normal with the two of you. The normal that Buck had come to look forward to every day. The normal Buck spent his entire shift waiting for.
Buck’s eyes rarely left you when he visited. Seeing you dressed up in your cute dresses, dancing around the kitchen, shining on whatever crappy shift he’d just dealt with. It was the highlight of his days now. Seeing the joy on your face when he arrived, seeing you cheerfully playing with Cookie between customers. It was what Buck waited for.
It had taken him days to pluck up the courage to even consider asking you out. The mere thought of asking you on a date had been giving him flashbacks from Buck 1.0 and Buck 2.0. He didn’t want to be like them any more, he certainly didn’t want to lead you on, or simply have one night of passion. You were something else entirely. And you made him want to be someone else entirely. And today he was going to be that new Buck. Not Buck 3.0, but the kind of Buck who wasn’t afraid of being honest. The kind of Buck who’d spend the past 24 hour shift thinking of ways to ask you out and then trying to decide what a perfect date would look like for you. Did he need flowers? Did you even like flowers? He’d been thinking of the perfect way to ask. He didn’t want to push, he didn’t even know if you liked him back really. Was this all in his head? He hoped not. He didn’t think he could go back to the way life was before he walked in here two weeks ago, and he certainly didn’t want to go back.
“So, you, er, you ever like- you ever leave this place?” he stumbled the words out, mixed and disjointed. He fought the urge to cringe at his own sentence. Damn. Here he was, screwing it up again. You rose a delicate eyebrow from behind the counter.
“Usually, yeah. I mean, I’d like to think I don’t look like a bakery gremlin all the time.” You laugh gently. He huffed a nervous laugh.
“Yeah, yeah. Good. Okay. Cool- cool…” His eyes were everywhere apart from on your face, his hand scratching at the back of his neck. “That’s great. Would you maybe, wanna - I mean if you wanted to go somewhere, not here-”
“Or you could stay?” You relieved him of the awkward stream of words escaping his lips. “I close in an hour, I usually stay a bit after to clean up, but maybe we could put your baking skills to the test.” You teased. “Unless, you have somewhere else to be-”
“Nope. Here’s perfect.” Buck blurted, an easy smile widening on his lips. A yap from the butter-blonde noodle solidified his answer. “I think Cookie approves.” You both laughed as the puppy ran about excitedly.
It didn’t take long for the hour to pass, though to Buck every minute felt like forever. He watched the hands move on the clock where it was sat perched above the main door. He was sure the hands seemed stuck, taking twice as long to move, if they were moving at all.
When you finally skipped out from the back, Buck beat you to the door, flipping the Open sign over. It wasn’t quite dark outside just yet, but dusk was setting in and the soft warm glow from the overhead pastel flower lights dimly lit the restaurant, the neon sign glowing a bright pink against the pale white backdrop of the wall.
“Come right this way, firefighter Buckley,” you gestured to behind the counter with a grin. “Remember this is only for VIPs, so don’t go sharing our trade secrets.” you joked as Buck entered the kitchen, Cookie hot on his heels almost as if she was leading the way to her own sanctuary. Buck hadn’t expected the kitchen of the place to have the exact same vibe as the front. Usually kitchens were all silver metal and business not pleasure. But this kitchen was designed just as the front was, pastels, cottage vibes and all of it screamed ‘you’.
You hopped around the middle island, grabbing a pastel blue apron from a small supply cupboard and holding it out to Buck, who gladly took it.
“So, what are we making?” he asked, tying the straps of the apron behind him loosely.
“We are going to make,” you grinned, grabbing a hardback baking folder from a shelf. Its cover was a light lavender spattered with a little white daisy pattern. “My grandma’s favourite lemon sugar cupcakes.” You flipped through the folder until you landed on a handwritten page. There was a polaroid stuck to the page showing some pale looking cupcakes with lemon zest decorating the top.
“Alright, I got this,” he replied seriously. “What’s first, boss?” You giggled and turned to preheat the oven. Before talking him through the first step.
Buck wasn’t bad at following instructions. Sure he’d had some run ins in the past where he hadn’t listened properly or dived in head first. But this was different. He wasn’t not listening. In fact he was trying his hardest to listen to everything you said, trying to absorb every detail of your words, of your voice. His heart thudded rapidly in his chest as your shoulder brushed against his, pointing at the instructions in the binder and to the ingredients you had laid out. Your melodic tone was hypnotic. Buck couldn’t pull his eyes away from your lashes as they brushed against your cheeks, the way your hair slipped down to frame your face in an elegant yet rebellious sweep. There was an excited light brimming in your eyes as you glanced up. He finally tore his eyes away, cheeks warming as you caught him staring.
“Did you hear anything I just said?” You teased, trying to deflect the attention away from your own face which was turning the same shade of dusky rose it had earlier.
“Err..” he squinted. “Mix the ingredients?” The giggle lightened your entire face, your dimples poking out as you rolled your eyes playfully. Buck admired as your features became animated, the joy shining through your bright eyes as you walked him through the first step again, this time with him listening, having been caught in his distraction.
Buck took the recipe seriously. Very seriously. Carefully measuring out each of the ingredients, scooping out any extra that landed in the bowl on the scale. At one point he was moving so slowly and thoughtfully that your hands had stretched to rest over his, guiding them through the scooping and pouring. Buck’s mind drew blank as the warmth of your palms seeped into the back of his hands and soothed up his arms, his skin tingling from your touch. He hadn’t even realised you were talking to him until he noticed your eyes trained on the side of his face.
“Huh?” Amusement danced in your expression.
“I said, you don’t have to treat the mixture like it’s a bomb,” you glanced down to the tray with cupcake cases lined up. “That’s the beauty of baking, nothing’s perfect. Every one will be different and unique in its own way.” Buck was sure of the double meaning to your words, even if that wasn’t intended and it definitely lightened his heart that little bit more as he scooped some mixture into the cases - still carefully but not as intensely as he had been.
You continued to guide Buck as he slid the baking tray into the oven slowly and closed the door.
“I guess we should probably tidy up a bit-” Buck began, turning to face the mess that was the kitchen. He was almost certain that the kitchen didn’t usually look this messy and felt slightly guilty for the state it was currently in, especially when he compared it to how tidy it was before.
A swat to the face stopped his words in his throat, a small cloud of white puffing in front of his face.
“D-Did you just-?” Another small handful of flour hit him square in the face. He pursed his lips, giving her a glance of utter disbelief. “Seriously?”
“What? You afraid of a little fun, firefighter Buckley?”
“Oh, honey, you don’t know how wrong you are,” A soft gasp escaped you as he launched himself around the island counter, hands still covered in white flour. Buck’s heart skipped a beat at the small squeal you let out as you attempted to evade his outstretched hands. Cookie, having been roused from her dozed state in her doggy bed by the door, let out an excited bark as her humans rushed around the kitchen, laughing loudly, both wrapped in joyful playfulness as the cupcakes cooked away in the oven.
You cried out as he finally caught you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and wiping the flour all over you, in your hair, across your white flowery dress, smudged on your cheek, it was everywhere. But you didn’t mind. Neither of you did. Your chest tightened, the laughter pouring out of you making it hard to breathe. But you didn’t mind.
Buck’s laughter slowly died down as you twisted around in his arms, hands pressed gently to his chest, eyes staring up at him through long lashes and warmed cheeks, both your chests heaving against one another.
“I guess the apron was a lost cause,” he joked, glancing down at his clothes which were also covered in flour. You giggled softly. “So… err… was this a date?” he forced out the words, his chest tightening at the possibility of this just being a hang out between friends.
“Do you want it to be?” You replied slowly, not pushing, not forcing but still holding a hopeful tone as you spoke. His eyes watched the delicate rose fill your soft dimpled cheeks again.
“Yeah. I really do.” He watched, an optimistic warmth blossoming in his chest. “Good.” You mumbled. “Because you, Hero, are not getting rid of me that easily.” An irresistibly devastating smile split across your lips. A yap from behind you, tore his eyes away from your face as you glanced back at the little butter-blonde noodle sitting expectantly by your feet. “Correction. You’re not getting rid of us that easily.” You both laughed as Cookie twirled around your feet, happy to be included in your moment. And Buck wouldn’t change a second of it. Not for anything.
🍄 Summary: After returning to his job at the 118, Buck finds comfort in a quiet bakery and the girl who makes it feel like home.
🍄 Word Count: 1403
🍄 Abbreviations: N/A
🍄 Warnings: Implication of unkind people, 118 being mean to Buck after the lawsuit, Buck feeling guilty and sad
🍄 Note: Part 2 is now up x
Buck was tense. He was agitated. He was upset. He was… lost.
He wouldn’t cry about it. He couldn’t. It was his own fault, he was the one to sue the city for his job back. He was the one to bring in the stupid lawyer who ripped apart each member of his family one by one, using the things he had told him. Things they had told him in confidence, things that had been aired and hung out to dry right in front of them. Family didn’t do that. Family didn’t use each other for their personal gain. That’s what Bobby had said the morning Buck had returned to duty. It was his reason for the team not trusting him. Buck didn’t blame them. How could he blame them? Who would trust someone who had done what he did?
That didn’t make it any easier.
The constant ignoring. The constant comments, ones that he thought were in a joking manner but hit a little too close to home. The constant being held back on calls. Even when he was the only one available. Buck wasn’t sure how he could keep going on like this. He fought for his job back, thinking his family would come with it. But apparently he was wrong.
Buck had left his apartment with the intention of going home. But the second he parked outside his building, his feet walked him in the opposite direction. He needed to clear his head. To forget everything that had happened on this shift. To forget the things that had been happening on every shift for the past month and a half. It was a shitty return to work, not the one Buck had hoped for and not the one he had expected. Sure he had expected some hostility… but for it to last this long with no end in sight, that was way beyond what he expected.
Buck needed a break. He needed to think.
Walking along the pavement, Buck’s eyes locked onto the bakery. It was a small, hole-in-the-wall kind of place. Someone had mentioned it on a call, one of the patients who had been at a wellness retreat had said it was the best bakery in LA. Quiet, calm and made the best peanut butter cookies ever. Buck didn’t know why, but the name of the place had stuck with him. He knew he hadn’t been there before but it had been glued in his brain since the call. And now, it sounded like the perfect place for him right now. A place to stop and think.
The little shop sign was everything he imagined it to be. Small, blackboard with pastel coloured chalk reading ‘Cookies and Crumbs’ a cute doodle of a sausage dog on the bottom of the sign with some cookies for decoration. Buck only hesitated briefly before pushing the door open. The bell above the door made a tinkle sound throughout the store. The inside was small, quaint. A couple of small tables with chairs running along the front of the windows, only a step away from the counter running from one end of the bakery to the other, pastel pink in colour which matched the whole vibe.
“One second!” a voice called from the back of the store, through a dutch door, the bottom half closed, which Buck assumed led to the kitchen out back. The sweet aroma of shortbread cookies wafting through the opening overwhelmed his senses.
Buck’s eyes scanned the glass shelves in the display case filled with various delicious looking delights. From cupcakes, to cookies to tarts. Everything looked appetizing. Buck suddenly forgot all about the peanut butter cookies as he looked at the slices of chocolate cake with orange flavoured buttercream.
Buck’s gaze was pulled away as the dutch door opened to the kitchen, a gentle patter across the hardwood floor had his gaze dropped down as a bundle of soft blonde fur came rushing around the side of the counter. Four paws tapping and skidding against the wooden floorboards. Buck barely had time to drop down into a crouch before the little puppy yelped, jumping at his legs. The tiny golden noodle of all enthusiasm and excitement licked at Buck’s chin, forcing a laugh out of the man who had been under a dark cloud until now.
“What have I told you about bothering the customers, missy?” The soft tone of the voice from earlier was much closer now. Buck, still smiling, lifted his head away from the bundle of excitement in his lap.
“It’s no bother, really-” Buck was ashamed to say his breath caught in his throat. His chest tightening in a good way for a change. His eyes scanned over your face. Your bright smile disarmed him of any response. It didn’t quite meet your eyes, but still blinded him. Like a ray of sunshine on a midsummer's day. “Er… hi.” he forced out a breath which he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.
A quiet giggle escaped you and Buck was sure he died on the spot. Your face was pink with eagerness, almost as much as the puppy. Despite the eagerness in your face, your voice was soothing and gentle, not changing tone at all.
“Hi.” The puppy, seeming to know its owner, moved from Buck’s lap and began to run circles around the two of you. Buck stood upright, his eyes never leaving you.
“Hi.” He replied, sounding breathless. You giggled with bright eyes, eyes holding an amused expression as he felt his cheeks warm.
“You already said that,” he scratched at the back of his neck with one hand, nervously. “If it helps, you’re not the first one to be starstruck by this little show off.” You joked and Buck was instantly thankful for you missing the true aim of his starstruck expression.
“Well, I mean, she is gorgeous,” Buck joked back as the puppy sat at his feet expectantly. Without saying anything you held out a small bone shaped cookie, his eyebrows furrowed as he took it, you gestured to the puppy. “What’s her name?” he asked, reaching down to give the bone to the puppy, who twirled excitedly at his feet.
“Cookie.” You pursed your lips slightly. “She’s one of the founders of this place,” you gestured to the neon sign behind the counter on the wall reading Cookies and Crumbs like the sign outside. “Of course in LA she can’t be the sole owner, something about being four-legged and not having hands.” you joked.
“That’s a travesty,” You nodded wide eyed.
“Right? She’s waiting for her day in court,” Your dimpled grin almost knocked the breath out of him again as he smiled back with a light chuckle. He watched as you moved behind the counter, even your walk had a sunny disposition about it. “Anyway, enough about madam down there. What can I get for you? You look like you just got off of a rough day at work.” There was no pity in your voice, but that dark cloud loomed over his head again.
“Yeah, uh, I guess you could say it was something like that,” he forced a bitter smile as the thoughts of his shift floated around his mind. “What, er, what would you recommend?”
“Well for a bad day, you can’t beat trying some of our chocolate fudge cake,” you paused just as you went to lift the glass lid on the cake stand. “You don’t have any allergies, right?” Buck shook his head.
“That looks delicious,” Buck complimented. “You make all this yourself?” You nod, dimpled grin bright. Buck watched as you laid out the cake slice on a napkin and plated it up. A small gold fork balanced on the edge as you held it out to him. “How much do I owe you?” he asked, already reaching for his phone.
“It’s on the house,” you insisted, holding the plate closer to him as he went to argue. “You look like you could use a little pick-me-up. And I can’t charge Cookie’s new favourite customer on his first visit.” you teased gently.
Cookie, upon hearing her name ran circles around Buck’s feet happily, tail wagging enthusiastically. Buck’s eyes dropped to his feet with a smile and for the first time in nearly a month, it wasn’t forced, it wasn’t controlled.
For the first time in nearly a month, it wasn’t a lie.
🍄 Summary: You moved to LA for a fresh start, a new safety net, little did you know that safety net was being held by a gorgeous firefighter and his dispatcher sister.
🍄 Word Count: 2347
🍄 Abbreviations: Y/N - your name
🍄 Warnings: Brief implication of trauma and female nakedness
🍄 Note:
It never stops. You came to realise, as you walked into the 911 dispatch centre, hands clutching the strap of your tote bag so intensely that your knuckles were turning a bright shade of white. You had hoped that a new job, in a new city, would release the nerves bubbling in your chest. That your fear would be squashed. That you wouldn’t feel the urge to look over your shoulder any more. But it never stops. You should have learned that by now.
Your eyes glanced around the dispatch center, taking in the cacophony of voices answering phone calls, the voices that helped people every day. This was your place. As it had always been. You had trained to be a 911 dispatched a few years back and it was the only job you ever wanted. You had been commended in your training for your soothing voice and your diligent focus when it came to training calls. Your trainer had literally said you had the patience of a saint. She wasn’t wrong. You had practiced patience every day for the past three years, but your patience was wearing thin lately and you needed this job to work out. This was your place. This was your domain. This was safe.
“You must be Y/N, right?” The soft female voice shouldn’t have startled you as much as it did, but you were ashamed to say your heart skipped a beat and your adrenaline pulsed for a few moments. Hopefully she didn’t notice. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you!” Dammit. “I’m Maddie, Maddie Buckley. I know you were supposed to meet with Sue, but she had to leave early so she asked me to welcome you in.” The gentle smile on the brunette's face was soothing, and you could only imagine how soothing her voice was for the people at the end of the 911 calls she answered.
“Yeah, hi, sorry. I’m Y/N.” you replied awkwardly, holding your hand out to shake hers. “Sorry, I was just lost in thought.”
“There’s nothing to apologise for,” Maddie laughed softly. “And it’s nice to meet you Y/N. Sue said you’ve been a dispatcher before?” You nod with a small smile. “Brilliant, do you wanna jump right in then?” Another small nod and Maddie lead you through the dispatcher floor and over to an empty desk. “This is you, if you need anything I’m just over there and Josh is covering the floor today so he’ll help with anything you need.” You glanced to the desk behind yours and then to the brown haired man leaning over a desk a few computers down.
“That’s great, thank you.” Maddie grinned.
“No problem. Good luck on your first day!” With a deep breath, you reached forward grabbing your headset and typing in the code Sue had sent you the day prior. The dial tone hit your ears and with a click you were back in business.
“911 what’s your emergency?”
The ache in your shoulders was a good one. Just coming off shift having spent hours helping people in some of their worst moments was always a good ache. Even nearly two weeks in and the ache was still as prominent as ever. But nothing, a nice hot shower and collapsing in your bed couldn’t fix. If your bed was fully put up that is.
You had been meaning to put the four-poster up for a week now, but every time you got around to it something else popped up. The fridge had conked out, you needed a new one. Thank god for that pay bonus you received when you left the last dispatch center. Then the mail man had delivered your packages to the wrong addresses so your neighbours, who you had hoped would be kind but were more than annoyed, dropped them off seeming to hate you before even meeting you. Thank you, United States Postal Service for that one. Alienating you before you even had the chance to make a good impression.
You stepped straight into the bathroom, not even putting your bag down first. Your hand reached for the nozzle of the shower and flicked it on. You moved into the bedroom discarding your uniform and taking a moment to brush your hair, your scalp aching slightly. When you stepped back into the bathroom, your heart dropped into your stomach. Instead of the cloudy steam you had been expecting, the cool air pushing off of the cold shower water greeted you. Your body shivered as your body sagged in frustration.
You had spoken to your landlord last week about the water issue. Whenever your upstairs neighbour used their water, you either got none, or water the temperature of the Arctic. Both equally as bad as each other. Your landlord had assured you he was going to come and get it fixed today, he said the water guy he hired was going to fix it from the mains today while you were at work. But he hadn’t.
You fought back the frustrated sob as your eyes watered slightly. You needed this one thing. It had been a long shift. You just needed one little shower that wouldn’t set your body into a hypothermic reaction. The tense ache in your back was almost too much to bear today. Despite loving your job, there were always going to be calls that stuck with you. Calls that you wanted to wash away at the end of the shift and move on from. Today it was an eight year old girl, stuck in her apartment which her mother had left her in whilst she went to the grocery store. That was bad enough, but on top of that, the girl had tried to make her own dinner and set fire to her apartment kitchen. It was a miracle she made it out safely. The 118 had done an amazing job at rescuing her. But you needed to wash it off. Now. you didn’t want to think anymore about what could’ve happened. You didn’t want to ponder the what ifs, the what could have been. You wanted to move on.
You dropped down onto your bed with a frustrated groan, your arm thrown over your face. You were exhausted. You were sure you could feel the grime of the day layered on your skin, even though it couldn’t be seen by the naked eye. You just wanted one thing to go right, when everything else seemed to be going wrong.
One thing had gone right. Maddie. She was the first real friend you had made in the city and from the day you had started almost two weeks ago, she had become a great friend to you. She checked in with you on breaks, you’d even gone for coffee a few times before shift and drove in together. She seemed like a really all round nice person, and that was rare to find these days. She had told you about her brother who worked on the 118 and her boyfriend Chimney who also worked at the same station on the ambulance. She’d introduced you to some great restaurants and one of the best Chinese take-out places in LA, which you were particularly grateful for, especially on the nights where you were too exhausted to cook. She was great and she was doing a great job of making you feel comfortable in LA, something you had thought probably wouldn’t happen so easily.
Without hesitating, you reached across to your phone which you had dropped haphazardly onto the bedside unit. Your fingers moved quickly dialling the only number you had for someone in LA.
“Hi, Maddie, it’s Y/N,” you rushed. “You, er, know that favour you offered. Can I cash it in?”
“I am so, so sorry about this,” you apologised as Maddie let you into her apartment with a smile. “I promise, I’ll be quick and then I’ll get out of your hair.”
“Hey, no, don’t apologise. Your landlord should be apologising. You really haven’t had hot water for nearly three weeks?” You shake your head frustrated. You hadn’t meant to impose yourself on Maddie. In fact the minute after she picked up the phone you had already been telling her that it was a mistake calling her and you couldn’t put her out like that.
What had you been thinking? You’d known her less than two weeks. Borrowing a shower was at least a three week to a month kind of favour, right?
But Maddie being Maddie, had insisted. She had come off of the same shift as you and she knew how rough some of the calls had been. “Do you want me to ask Chim or Buck to have a word with him? I’m sure they could get some sense into him for you.”
“Oh, no no,” You shook your head. “It’s no trouble - I don’t wanna put anyone out. I’m sure I can get it sorted.” Yeah right. “I’ll just call him tomorrow to find out what’s going on.”
“If you’re sure,” Maddie replied, leading you through the apartment and to the bathroom. “They wouldn’t mind.”
“I appreciate it, really,” You smiled, holding your tote bag closer. “I just, don’t wanna get on his bad side so soon, you know? I don’t know if me sending around two firefighters who can probably bench press me, would be the right thing, this early on.” Maddie laughed.
“Okay, I see your point,” You giggled with her. “But if you do need them to come round, just let me know. You can’t go on with only cold water forever.” You sighed nodding. You knew she was right. And having spoken to the landlord already nearly every other day, he still hadn’t done anything to fix it. You wondered if he would even try or if he was just saying he would to get you off his back. It wasn’t like you could ask your neighbours what the landlord was like. Damn you USPS.
Maddie showed you the water pressure and how to change the temperature before leaving you in peace. You sighed happily, as the water turned hot almost instantly. Steam rising and kissing your bare skin as you stepped under the hot stream.
You definitely needed this.
You didn’t know how long you had been standing under the constant stream but you were definitely there longer than you needed to be. It turns out, not having hot water was a bigger deal than you thought. You felt like Noah, seeing land for the first time again after the flood. Nothing could compare to this feeling. Missing something you didn’t know you could miss. Like an addict getting a hit for the first time. As unappealing as that analogy was. You certainly were not an addict. But this is what you imagined they felt like.
Embarrassingly, you almost whined when your fingers wrinkled more than a prune. Knowing it was time to get out, you reluctantly stepped out of the stream and wrapped the towel Maddie had left you around your body, snuggling into the warmth. You hesitated for a moment and then let out a groan as your eyes scanned the bathroom, not finding your tote bag anywhere. In your haste to get in the shower, you had left your bag out on Maddie’s couch. Meaning you had to leave the comfort of the warm bathroom, to venture out and retrieve your change of clothes. Of course.
With a sigh, you unlocked the bathroom door and poked your head out at first, not seeing Maddie anywhere. She was probably in the kitchen, which was just out of your scope of view from the bathroom. You could hear some things being moved in the cupboards. You slipped out of the bathroom and walked over to the couch.
“Hey, sorry, I left this-” The screech escaped your lips before you could suppress it. That was not Maddie. Unless Maddie had taken a bunch of testosterone, gained a birthmark above her eye and was now the buffest man you had ever met. You didn’t hesitate to launch yourself down onto the couch, covering your towel clad body mostly behind the pillows. “Who are you? Where’s Maddie?” you demanded nervously.
“I think I should be asking you that,” the guy responded, a rolling pin clutched tightly in his right hand. Not as if he’d need it to take you down. He could probably just get close enough for you to smell his cologne and you’d melt at his feet. Stupid hormones. “You’re the one in her apartment, shower girl.” You couldn’t help but be a little offended.
“Is that really the best you could come up with?”
“Well I’m not about to ask your name, you’re the one intruding in Maddie’s apartment.” he retorted.
“I was actually invited,” you narrowed your eyes at him. “And I don’t remember Maddie inviting you in though.”
“I don’t need to be invited.”
“Oh, what, so you LA people just walk into random apartments without asking?” You ask wide-eyed. “Good to know trespassing isn’t a crime here.” If all trespassers looked like this, you were going to be in deep, deep trouble.
“Hey, you’re the one trespassing!”
“I told you I was invited!” you argued. “You’re the one with a weapon!”
“Weapon?” You had to admit, his confused puppy-dog look was definitely cute, he even tilted his head slightly. Hot and cute, this is just getting better and better. What will I say to Maddie when he robs the place. ‘Sorry Maddie, the guy was just too hot and cute for me to handle, so I let him take what he wanted while I stood naked in your living room’. Nice. Real smooth. “I- This isn’t a weapon. I’m not gonna hurt you, I swear.” He placed the rolling pin down on the counter and raised his hands somewhat innocently. “I’m a firefighter, I actually help people. Not hurt them. Even if you are an intruder in my sister’s apartment.” Sister? You slowly began to stand again, hand firmly enclosed on the towel holding it in place.
🍄 Summary: Desperate for sleep, Buck walks into a strange little apothecary - and meets the woman who might finally quiet the noise in his head.
🍄 Word Count: 2068
🍄 Abbreviations: N/A
🍄 Warnings: Brief mentions of sleeping troubles
🍄 Note: First part in a possible series if anyone enjoys it! Writing whenever I can x
Click. Click. Click.
Every beat of the clock mocked him. Every tick of the hands moving laughed at him. Buck was at his limit. It had been weeks since he had gotten a good night’s sleep. It was months since the accident, since the fire truck almost destroyed not only his leg but also his life - his job which was his life. And now he was being mocked. He thought the anxiety was behind him, that the shakiness he’d first felt walking back into the firehouse was gone. That the heavy thudding of his heart in his chest every time the alarm echoed through the firehouse was over.
But now here he was, 4:43 AM laid out on his back without a wink of sleep. He thought a long 24 hour shift would exhaust him to the bone, make him tired beyond recognition and knock him out the second he got home. But he was wrong. So very wrong. Not even the longest and busiest shift could stop the images flashing behind his eyelids. The same images which taunted him when he tried to sleep. The same images which he wanted to forget, to erase and never think of again.
Buck rolled onto his side in a huff. Eyes wandering to the clock frustrated and aching. He’d watched every minute of the past three hours pass him by and nothing was helping. Not the lavender spray that Maddie had left behind when she had stayed over, not the warm milk he had begrudgingly made himself upon Hen’s advice. If anything, the milk had only kept him more awake peeing every couple of hours.
Buck’s eyes hadn’t moved from the clock by the time his alarm buzzed to life. Despite not being at work, Buck kept to his daily schedule waking up at 6:30. He thrived on routine, and despite being completely exhausted from the lack of sleep, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and tottered down the stairs into his kitchen. An empty bowl and spoon in the sink reminded him of his 2 AM kiwi bowl snack which was another failed attempt at aiding his sleep. The phantom ache in his leg was stronger than ever as he pulled the milk from the fridge to add to his black coffee.
A strong buzz brought his attention away from where his eyes stared at the swirling milk in the centre of his coffee. His phone flashed up a text from his sister.
‘How’d the lavender work?’ He typed back a blunt reply of ‘It didn’t.’ He knew his sister had only wanted to help, but the lavender had done nothing of the sort. The overwhelming concoction floating around his apartment had done nothing but bounced against the sides of his temple, overwhelming his senses and forming a headache against his skull which was a close resemblance to the opening act of his high school marching band.
‘Damn. Sorry, I really thought that would work.’ He sighed and sipped from his cup. Another buzz. ‘Have you thought about that tea?’ Buck’s eyebrows scrunched together as he tried to recall the conversation he’d had with his sister about tea. He could vaguely remember her mentioning some sleepy time tea she had tried once which had given her one of the best sleeps of her life. She had taken it shortly after his niece Jee was born, she was incredibly sleep deprived and even when Chimney was on baby duty, she still struggled to regain the energy she had lost whilst caring for her daughter all day. The tea had been, as Maddie had described it, ‘A gift from the tea gods.’
‘Where’d you get it from again?’ He typed back.
Buck should have never listened to Maddie. When she had sent him the address to the little shop, he’d been suspicious from the start. The name emblazoned on the window in white adhesive lettering read ‘The Strange and Unusual Oddities Parlor’.
Buck was a superstitious guy. No one could argue with that. When someone in the fire station dared attempt to say the word ‘quiet’ and Buck was the first one panicked and knowing the shift was going to be a bad one. Buck always saved his emergency holiday days for when Friday the 13th rolled around and he made sure that every mirror in his apartment was attached tightly to the wall it rested on. This was definitely not the place for Buck. If he panicked about mirrors who knew what waited inside this apothecary shop for him. What if he accidentally touched something he shouldn’t? The last thing he needed was another problem messing with his already twisted up life.
“This is definitely a bad idea.” He muttered to himself as he stepped closer to the door, hand pressed to the handle just below the slightly lopsided ‘OPEN’ sign in the window. A jingle above the door vibrated through the shop.
A strong scent wafted under his nose, devastating his senses with a mixture of chamomile and cedarwood. The gentle burning smell twisted around him, tugging him closer into the shop. Shelves upon shelves were stacked around the shop, boxing in short aisles to walk through. Bright natural sunlight seeped in through stained glass windows on the walls, painting the ground with various shades of rainbow, casting shapes of moons and stars across the wooden paneled flooring. A gentle symphony of nose hit his ears as a wind chime hung by one of the open windows twisted and played a sweet melody. Buck’s eyes scanned the various shelves lining the walls, bottles of various shapes and sizes decorated each shelf, filled with a variety of spices, herbs and other liquids Buck hadn’t heard the name of before. A cacophony of colours embellished the walls.
Buck’s feet creaked against the floorboards, his presence echoing around the shop.
“I’ll be right with you!” a warm voice tinkled from somewhere in the back of the shop. It was warm and steady and tugged Buck deeper inside.
“No, uh, no problem!” Buck called back nervously, eyes flickering, attempting to find the source of the voice.
A soft purring caught his attention as he turned to face the counter at the back. A black mass launched up onto the counter, silently skulking along the front to sit directly in front of Buck, blue eyes peering back at him curiously. Buck stared back at the unmoving cat. Its tail flicked from side to side as it stood almost as a guard, perched comfortably.
“Can I help you?”
His eyes settled on her face first, heart-shaped, cheeks warmed with happiness. Her blonde hair was tugged back into a high pony, but a few twists of hair had loosened from the band and fell against her flushed cheeks, framing her face beautifully. The gold chains around her neck jingled as she moved.
“Er, yes,” Buck stumbled over his words. “No, I mean yes. I think so. I’m not sure.” Her lips threatened to split into a grin as she smiled gently.
“First time?” she asked, no judgement. Buck nodded sheepishly.
“I’m - I’m just looking.” He explained.
“Most people are, when they come in.” She nodded. “If you need anything let me know.” Buck nodded and stepped slowly to a tall wall of shelves, eyes scanning the various bottles, not sure what many of the labels meant. “You’re not sleeping.”
Buck shouldn’t have been surprised. His lack of sleep must’ve done something to his composure, he was sure the bags under his eyes told the whole story of his lack of rest. If not the wrinkles etched into his forehead from the hours of trying to drift off. The tenseness across the back of his shoulders was a permanent feature of his posture now, he was sure. He knew that he felt the tightness throughout every day and every shift.
“I-Is it that obvious?” he huffed out a dry laugh.
“Only if you know what you’re looking for,” Her eyes softened as her head tilted to the side. “Your soul looks like it’s tired.” Buck’s eyes squinted.
“My soul?” She nodded. Buck didn’t have it in him to argue that his soul was wide awake, which was the whole reason he had come into the shop in the first place. His ‘soul’ had been bouncing around his brain for hours on end, like a live wire.
“I take it you came in for some sleepy time tea?” she guessed. Buck hesitated before nodding.
“My, ah - my sister recommended this place. She got some when she was having trouble sleeping after my niece was born.”
“Sleepy time tea is the best,” The petite woman reached down under the counter and produced a small brown set of steps. “I tried some once, slept right through my neighbours arguing. The wife cut up the husband with a broken beer bottle. I found that out the next day when the police tape drifted across the hall and stuck to the outside of my door.” Buck’s eyebrows furrowed at her nonchalant attitude to assault. “Guy had it coming if you ask me. He’d been sneaking women in and out of the apartment for months without her knowing.” She stepped up onto the stool and reached for a triangular shaped jar on the top shelf labelled Lavender. She hopped down, setting the jar on the counter and moved the stool to the right, grabbing another jar labelled Chamomile. “Some people just don’t know when to quit while they’re ahead.”
Buck watched as she dusted her hands off on the sides of her red overalls dress, light hand prints fading into the fabric. She settled the jars together and reached for a final one at hip height on a shelf to her left.
“Any allergies I should know about?” she asked.
“Only mint,” Buck replied. “I-Is this stuff… magic?” he whispered, almost as if he was worried someone might overhear him. “Will it work?”
“Depends on what you believe in,” she muttered. “Rosetta, the owner of this place, she’d say it was an old wives remedy. If you ask me? I’d say there’s a little bit of magic in everything we do here. Everyone who comes here has their own idea of what will work and what won’t. What do you think?” Buck pondered on the question for a moment.
“I think it’s worse when it’s quiet,” he admitted. “Feel’s like my body’s still… there. Stuck in that moment. Like my feet are stuck in quicksand and there’s no way to get out.” He hadn’t said the words aloud before now. But the release was immediate. Knowing someone was listening. Feeling that someone cared enough to ask. It was enough to carry some of the weight he had been carrying around for months. “It sounds stupid. A guy who can’t sleep because of something that happened months ago. I should be over it by now-”
“It’s your body’s way of trying to protect you. Your body just doesn’t know you’re safe yet.” Buck pondered on her words quietly for a moment. Her gold necklace jingled as she finished packaging the blend she had created for him. Her body turned to the jars and popped them back on the lower shelf. “Here you go,” She handed him the small brown paper bag. “One spoonful of tea an hour before bed. If you have any weird side effects, stop taking it,” she continued seriously. “You should be fine, but if you have any questions you can always stop back in.” Buck nodded, a slight ache pounding in his chest as she finished serving him.
“Er, how much do I owe you?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck.
“It’s on the house,” She beamed back at him. “Consider it a thank you for all your hard work, firefighter.” Buck tried to argue he could pay something but the hiss from the black cat still staring at him as if he were the prey to its predator pushed him further to the door, a ‘thank you’ calling of his lips as he stepped outside and walked over to his jeep.
It wasn’t until Buck was sitting in the driver's seat that a question popped into his head. Mind completely boggled, he wondered to himself, staring at the bag of loose leaf tea - How did she know I was a firefighter?
