Description: Buck comes home late from a long shift to find Y/N and Theo asleep on the couch because they tried to wait up for him. Theo had had a rough day and wanted to see Buck before he went to bed.
The loft was quiet when Buck finally unlocked the door sometime after midnight. This wasn’t the usual quiet. It wasn’t the usual background noise from the TV or music playing in the kitchen while you cleaned up after dinner. This quiet felt different; soft and heavy, as if sleep filled every corner of the apartment.
Buck stepped inside, feeling exhaustion in his bones after a tough shift. His shoulders ached, his uniform still smelled faintly of smoke, and all he wanted was a shower and a few hours of sleep before doing it all again. Then he saw you. Curled up on the couch beneath the big grey blanket, your head tipped awkwardly against the cushions, Theo tucked into your side.
Buck’s chest tightened immediately, and a wave of relief mixed with longing caught him by surprise. Theo was sprawled halfway across you, one small hand tangled in your sweatshirt and the other clutching the stuffed dinosaur Buck had won for him at a carnival months ago. His curls rested against Buck’s favorite hoodie, the one Theo always borrowed because it “smelled like Daddy.”
The TV was playing an animated movie, muted. You’d both clearly tried to stay awake. Buck closed the door as quietly as possible. Still, the soft click made Theo stir. His sleepy eyes blinked open, unfocused and glassy with exhaustion, until they landed on Buck. “Daddy?” Barely a whisper.
Buck melted immediately. “Hey, buddy.” His voice came out rougher than intended. “Why’re you still awake, huh?” Theo pushed himself upright, blanket slipping down his shoulders. “Waited for you.” You stirred next, groaning softly as you blinked awake. “Buck?” “Sorry,” he murmured, already crossing the room. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
Theo was out of the blanket in seconds, launching himself across the couch straight into Buck’s arms. Buck caught him easily despite the exhaustion. “Oof, hey there.” Theo wrapped himself around Buck’s neck and squeezed tighter than a sleepy kid should. Buck frowned instantly. “What happened?” You rubbed your eyes, still half asleep. “Rough day at school.” Theo buried his face into Buck’s shoulder. Buck’s heart ached as he watched Theo press closer to him. “Oh, buddy…”
You shifted closer, voice quiet. "Some kid told him adopted kids aren’t real families." Theo came home from school so quiet, and when I asked what was wrong, he just said he missed you. I only found out what happened when he finally started crying in the middle of dinner. Buck froze, anger flooding him so quickly it cut off his breath. For a moment, anger burned inside him, sharp and sudden. Then Theo sniffled, the tiny sound slicing through Buck's fury. The anger faded, replaced by something softer and much more painful: a deep ache.
Buck sat down carefully on the edge of the couch, keeping Theo tucked against his chest. “C’mere.” He pressed a kiss into Theo’s curls. “You know that’s not true, right?” Theo shrugged without lifting his head. Buck looked at you helplessly for half a second before turning back to Theo. “Hey.” He pulled back just enough to see his face. “Look at me.” Theo’s watery eyes lifted reluctantly. Buck wiped away a tear with his thumb. "Families form in many ways, okay? They’re built from love. That’s all. You are my family, Theo. It doesn’t matter how we got here or what anyone else thinks; we chose each other, and that’s what makes us real. Blood means something, but love means everything. I wanted you in my life, and I couldn’t imagine it without you. Our family is just as real and strong as any other, maybe even stronger because we found each other." Theo stayed quiet.
Buck smiled softly. “You know when I knew you were my kid?” “A-after the judge said?” Theo asked. Buck actually laughed quietly. “Nope.” You smiled sleepily beside them, already knowing where this was going. “It was the first time you fell asleep on me.” Buck nudged Theo’s nose gently. “Drooled all over my shirt too.” Theo let out the tiniest giggle. “And I remember thinking…” Buck’s voice grew softer, emotion slipping in. “There you are. My son.”
Theo’s lip wobbled again. Buck kissed his forehead immediately. “Nothing changes that. Ever. Got it?” “Even if I don’t match you?” Buck looked genuinely confused. “Theo, you don’t even match yourself half the time. Yesterday you wore rain boots with dinosaur pyjamas to the grocery store.”
“That was fashion,” Theo mumbled. You snorted tiredly from the couch. Buck grinned. “See? Definitely my kid.” That finally earned Theo a real smile. Small. Sleepy. But real. Buck glanced over at you then, taking in the exhaustion written all over your face. “You should’ve gone to bed.” You shrugged. “He wanted to wait for you.” Theo nodded immediately. “Needed Daddy.”
The words hit Buck straight in the chest, heavy and overwhelming in the best way possible. Sometimes he still caught himself feeling out of place in moments like this, remembering all the lonely nights before you and Theo, back when he thought having a real family was something that only happened to other people. After years of wrestling with the ache of wanting to belong somewhere, he still couldn’t quite believe all this was real. That, after all that hoping and wondering if he would ever find his place, he truly got to come home to you. To Theo. To a family.
Buck leaned over and kissed you softly. “Thank you,” he whispered. You smiled against his lips. “For what?” “For staying up.” Theo yawned hugely between you both. Buck laughed under his breath. “Okay, bedtime for tiny emotional disasters.” “I’m not tiny,” Theo argued weakly. “You literally wear light-up sneakers.” “They’re cool.” “They are cool,” you defended immediately. Buck stared at you both in betrayal. “I’m outnumbered.” “Yep,” you and Theo answered together. Buck shook his head, smiling helplessly. Then he stood, Theo balanced easily on his hip as he held out a hand toward you. “C’mon,” he murmured. “Let’s go to bed.”
As Buck guided his family toward the quiet of their shared bedroom, he felt the weight of the day slip away, replaced by an unshakable warmth. In the hush that followed, he realised there was nowhere in the world he’d rather be than right here, surrounded by the people who chose him, night after night.
Description: Buck and Y/N are in a little rough patch. However, when Buck next sees Y/N, she's all bruised, and all she wanted was her brother.
A/N: T/W Mentions of abuse. Please message me if you need to talk.
The loft was too quiet. It wasn’t the peaceful kind. This quiet pressed heavily in Evan Buckley’s chest, reminding him how long it had been since his sister last laughed in his kitchen.
Three weeks. That was all it had been. Three weeks since the fight.
Buck stared at his phone, thumb hesitating over your contact, then locked the screen with an irritated sigh, the argument replaying on an endless loop. It had started over something small, a missed family dinner, a comment about not seeing your friends lately, but underneath, it was really about him worrying too much, and you wanting space to make your own choices. Neither of you had been willing to back down.
“You don’t get to decide what’s best for me, Buck.” “I’m trying to protect you!” “I don’t need another person controlling my life.” That last sentence had cut deeper than you probably realised. Because Buck knew exactly who you were talking about. Your ex. The man who’d spent two years manipulating you so thoroughly that when Buck realised how bad things were, you barely recognised yourself.
Buck still remembered the night you showed up at his apartment, shaking and exhausted, whispering, “I left him. He remembered the bruises you tried to hide. The panic attacks. The way you flinched anytime someone raised their voice. And he remembered promising you nobody would ever hurt you again.
Which was why, as anger mixed with worry, this rough patch between the two of you was killing him. Every silence felt heavier, every memory of your fight sharper, sitting alongside the raw ache of wanting things to be right again. He second-guessed every word he'd said that night, picking apart his overprotectiveness, the edge in his voice, the moments he should've listened instead of trying to fix you. Yet, beneath all that regret, Buck couldn't ignore a truth he’d tried to hold onto since you left: needing support was never a weakness, and reaching out was a choice that required strength few people could summon. None of what happened was your fault - you had never deserved the pain that was done to you, and nothing that happened diminished your worth. You have the absolute right to ask for help and to be treated with kindness and respect. You deserved patience, gentleness, and all the help you asked for. The apartment felt emptier, the air painted with the hollow echo of what he wished he'd done differently: texted sooner, apologised first, told you he was just scared of losing you to the same darkness you'd barely escaped before.
What he didn’t know was that you, too, sat alone in the quiet, feeling every bit as unsettled. Guilt burned behind your ribs, twisting whenever you thought of Buck waiting for you to reach out. Each day without speaking felt like a widening gap, your own stubbornness battling the hope that he might have missed you, too. You replayed the argument, flinching at your own harsh words, wondering if maybe you’d pushed him too far. Shame and longing tangled inside you: desperate for comfort but unsteady, convinced you'd have to solve things yourself, that maybe you didn't deserve his patience after all. But somewhere beneath the pain, a gentler voice tried to remind you that everyone needs help sometimes, and that reaching out is a sign of courage, not weakness. Nights stretched too long, as you held your phone in your hand, tempted to call but unable to press send, caught between regret and the fear that if you let yourself lean on him, you wouldn't know how to stop. Still, deep down, hope lingered; a quiet possibility that even after mistakes, healing and forgiveness could still be yours.
His phone buzzed suddenly. Buck grabbed it immediately, heart jumping before sinking slightly at the unfamiliar number: Unknown Caller. For a second, he almost ignored it. Then he answered.
“Hello?” Silence. Static. Then, “Buck?” Your voice. Small. Broken.
Buck was already standing. “Y/N? What happened?” “I-I didn’t know who else to call.” Every muscle in his body went tight. “Where are you?”
You hesitated. And, suddenly, the pause in your answer made Buck's stomach drop. He realised your fear and uncertainty were as strong as his own urgency to help. Buck’s voice softened instantly. “Hey. Hey, it’s okay. Just tell me where you are.” A shaky breath crackled through the speaker. Then you gave him the address.
—
Buck broke at least four traffic laws on the way there. The apartment complex was run-down and dimly lit. Buck’s skin crawled as he sprinted up the stairs and pounded on the door you’d told him. The second it opened, his heart stopped.
Bruises. Dark purple staining spread across your cheekbone. Your lip was split, blood crusted in a jagged line. Your hoodie sleeve hung low, just enough for him to see the fingerprints around your wrist.
Buck couldn’t breathe for a second, shock and anger competing with a rush of protectiveness. Seeing you hurt created a storm of emotion he couldn’t contain. You looked at him like you expected him to yell. Instead, his expression shattered. “Oh my God…”
Your eyes instantly filled with tears. And suddenly, you looked younger to him. Not like the stubborn adult who stormed out after your fight. Just his little sister again. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. Buck stepped inside immediately, shutting the door behind him before cupping your face carefully, as you might break apart. “Don’t apologise,” he said fiercely. “Don’t ever apologise for calling me.”
Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say; your composure cracked completely. A sob tore out of your chest as you grabbed onto the front of his jacket. Buck held you instantly. One arm around your shoulders. One hand cradling the back of your head. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “I got you. I got you.” You cried harder, shaking against him. “I didn’t know where to go…”
Buck closed his eyes tightly. Rage burned beneath his ribs: at your ex, at himself for letting distance grow, for you being hurt while you were both too busy being angry. The guilt ran even deeper, festering in the space between every bitter word and missed phone call. Buck couldn't help replaying each stubborn silence, wondering if there was a moment he could have reached out, if he could have listened better or made you feel safe without smothering you. He'd promised to protect you, but had protecting you also meant shutting you out? Maybe he should have tried harder, swallowed his pride sooner. Now, seeing you hurt, the regret threaded tight through every inhale, sharp with the knowledge that, for all his good intentions, he'd failed in the one thing he'd wanted to do most. But as he held you, something steadied inside him—a quiet vow that this time, he wouldn't let his fear or pride get in the way. Buck wasn’t going to lose you again. He would find a way to rebuild, to do better, and, for the first time in weeks, hope flickered that maybe the hurt between you could one day become something stronger.
“Did he do this tonight?” Buck asked quietly. You nodded against his chest. Buck swallowed hard, jaw clenching so tightly it hurt. “Is he still here?” “No,” you whispered quickly, pulling back enough to look at him. “Buck, please don’t-” He cut you off. “I’m not leaving you.” And he meant it. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not ever again if he could help it.
You looked exhausted. Scared. Embarrassed. Yet beneath the fear and exhaustion, there was relief. Because despite everything, despite the fight, the silence, and the hurt feelings, you still called your brother. Buck brushed his thumb carefully beneath your bruised eye. “You should’ve called me sooner.” Fresh tears slid down your cheeks. “I didn’t think you’d want me to.” Buck looked genuinely devastated by that.
“Y/N,” he said softly, “you could wake me up at three in the morning and tell me you need me across the country, and I’d still come.” Your lip trembled. “You’re my sister.” That did it. You buried your face against his chest again, and Buck held you tighter this time, resting his cheek against the top of your head.
After a long moment, he finally spoke again. “C’mon,” he murmured gently. “Let’s get you home.” Home. Not your apartment. Not this place. Home meant him. And for the first time all night, you felt safe enough to close your eyes.
In the quiet, wrapped in Buck's arms, hope flickered. Tomorrow would bring uncomfortable conversations, police questions, maybe more healing than either of you wanted to face. But you would face it together, and if you needed to, others would be willing to help. Friends, coworkers, and even those who felt like family stood ready to support you both. Through it all, the possibility of real healing, with time, therapy, and reaching out to resources like support groups and domestic violence hotlines, glimmered in the distance. For tonight, you could rest, knowing that this time, you wouldn't have to go through it alone.
Description: It's Mother's Day, so Theo and Buck decide to surprise Y/N.
The smell of pancakes was the first thing that pulled you awake. This wasn’t unusual in your house. Buck loved making breakfast on weekends, even if he usually made a mess of the kitchen. But today, something felt different. There was muffled whispering, tiny footsteps, and a loud shhh! followed by Theo’s unmistakable giggle.
You smiled against your pillow. Mother’s Day. You stayed still, pretending to sleep as the bedroom door slowly creaked open. “Careful,” Buck whispered dramatically. “Operation Surprise Mom is a go.” Theo snorted loudly. “Dad, you sound weird.” “I am weird. Your mom loves me anyway.” You bit back a laugh.
Tiny feet padded closer to the bed before the mattress dipped beside you. A small hand poked your shoulder. “Mom,” Theo whispered loudly. “Wake up.” You opened your eyes slowly, immediately met with Theo’s bright grin, and Buck standing behind him, carrying a tray overloaded with food and flowers. And coffee.
You sat up, heart full, as the morning unfolded brightly around you. “Well, good morning, beautiful,” Buck said softly. Theo shoved something into your hands before you could even sit up properly. “I made you a card!” You blinked at the construction paper card: stickers, crooked hearts, and glitter that would haunt your sheets forever. Inside, in messy handwriting, it read: Best Mom Ever. Thank you for loving me. Love Theo.
Your chest tightened instantly. “Oh, sweetheart…” Theo suddenly looked nervous. “Do you like it?” You reached for him immediately, pulling him into your arms. “I love it more than anything.” He melted against you with a relieved little sigh.
Over his shoulder, Buck watched you both with the soft look he wore only at home. The one who said this is everything I ever wanted. You swallowed hard. After you shared a quiet embrace, Buck cleared his throat in an exaggerated way. “Before I cry and ruin my reputation, breakfast delivery!”
He settled the tray over your lap. Heart-shaped pancakes, strawberries, scrambled eggs, coffee just the way you liked, and a small vase of sunflowers. “You remembered my favourite flowers.” Buck leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Of course I did.”
Theo bounced excitedly beside you. “Dad burned the first pancakes.” Buck gasped. “You said you wouldn’t tell!” “You almost set off the smoke alarm!” “It was one time.” “Twice,” Theo corrected. You laughed so hard your eyes watered. Buck pointed at his son with mock accusation. “This is betrayal in its purest form.” Theo just grinned before climbing fully onto the bed beside you.
You sat together while you ate, Theo stealing strawberries as Buck pretended not to notice. It felt warm. Safe. Real. Even as laughter faded, a quiet wave of gratitude swept over you. Because just a few months ago, Theo had entered your lives scared and quiet, unsure if anyone actually wanted him for good. You remembered how he barely spoke that first week, clinging to his backpack as if it were the only safe thing in the world. On his very first night, he slept curled up at the edge of the bed, eyes wide open long after you’d turned out the lights. Buck had fallen in love with him almost instantly, long before the adoption papers were finalised. You remembered the first time Theo called Buck Dad. Buck had cried in the grocery store parking lot for twenty straight minutes.
Now, this little family fits together so naturally that it's impossible to imagine life any other way. But it hadn’t always been easy. You remembered the first meal you all tried to have together, sitting around the table in a silence that felt heavy and strange. Theo barely touched his food, glancing between you and Buck with wide, uncertain eyes, flinching whenever anyone reached across the table. You and Buck tried to fill the awkwardness with soft conversation and gentle jokes, and yet everything felt fragile, as if one wrong word would send him running from the room. It took time; a lot of quiet dinners, patient smiles, and small, careful reassurances before those silences slowly warmed and turned into the laughter you share now. You remembered the first time Theo let you help him with his science project, quietly sliding the instructions toward you and nodding when you asked if he wanted help. There was the night he asked to read his bedtime story out loud instead of just listening, his voice shy but proud as he stumbled through the words. Later, he lost his first tooth and left it beneath his pillow, grinning wide in the morning when he found a note and a coin from the "tooth fairy." And the first time he fell asleep, tangled between you and Buck after a thunderstorm, snoring softly, trust finally settled in between breaths. Each small moment helped stitch your hearts closer together, a thousand quiet milestones on the way to feeling like a real family.
“Wait!” Theo suddenly said, scrambling off the bed. “We forgot the other gift!” Buck smirked. “Ah, yes. The masterpiece.” Theo ran from the room and returned carrying something suspiciously lumpy wrapped in tissue paper. You unwrapped it carefully. And immediately burst into tears. “Oh, my god.”
It was a clay sculpture. Slightly crooked. Poorly painted. Absolutely perfect. Three stick figures held hands: one with curly brown hair, a taller blond, and a tiny figure in the middle. Across the bottom, carved messily into the clay: HOME. Theo looked worried again. “It kinda fell over at school.” “It’s perfect,” you whispered.
Buck sat beside you, his hand settling gently on your knee. “He worked on that for two weeks,” he said quietly. “Wouldn’t let me see it.” Theo puffed proudly. “Because it was secret.” You set the sculpture on the table, pulled Theo in for another hug, and kissed his head until he squealed. “Okay, okay!” he laughed. “Too many kisses!” Buck immediately leaned closer. “I would also like kisses.” You snorted through your tears. “You’re unbelievable.” “And yet deeply lovable.” “That’s debatable.” “Rude,” he gasped.
But he was smiling when you kissed him anyway. Soft and slow. When you pulled back, Buck rested his forehead against yours for a second. “You know,” he murmured, “Theo and I got really lucky.” Your heart ached at the sincerity in his voice. “No,” you said softly. “I’m the lucky one.” Theo made an exaggerated gagging noise from beside you. “Ewwww.” Buck pointed at him immediately. “You are literally the reason she’s emotional right now.” “I know,” Theo said proudly. You laughed again, wrapping an arm around both of them and pulling them close.
And surrounded by pancakes, glitter, sunflowers, and the two people you loved most in the world, you realised there was nowhere else you’d ever rather be. Maybe next weekend, you will plant those sunflowers in the backyard with Theo, or plan another surprise breakfast together. There would be more firsts, maybe even some more lopsided clay sculptures, and a future full of noisy mornings just like this. You knew not every day would be as perfect; there would still be hard things to face, quiet worries and unexpected challenges that come with building a family. But you also knew that together, you could handle anything. It was easy to imagine laughing together for years to come, your home growing even brighter with every day you spent as a family.
It doesn't matter if it's Eddie, Chris or Buck Theo will be following them EVERYWHERE he'll probably pick one of them for an hour or even an entire day to follow and for that entire time they WILL NOT know peace, and it's even worse when they want to use the bathroom... especially then.
Partly inspired by how my cat is with me (and how I kinda am guilty of acting like this with my mom)
ANYWAY, HAPPY PRIDE MONTH PEOPLE!!!!
(also speaking of-my mom called me and my older sister in the room so we can see the rainbow the candle she lit was reflecting and she told us both Happy pride month....she's so precious oml)
Buck takes care of Eddie. Who's been stabbed, did you hear?
“So you’re gonna, what, stand there and watch?”
Buck’s eyes flick back up to Eddie’s face, where his eyes are still shut in concentration. Not that there’s anything wrong with checking out your friend’s abs. Especially if that's where he's just been stabbed.
“Yeah. I'm really looking forward to the part where you try to bend over and get a good look at everything.”
Eddie’s jaw tics again as they fall back into their stalemate. But it doesn’t take long for Eddie to open his big, pleading eyes and unleash them Buck’s way.
“Fine.”
AO3 tags: Injury Recovery, Scars, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied Panic Attacks, Content Warnings Aside This Is Ultimately Fluffy, First Kiss, Getting Together
Tags Not On AO3: Platonically Putting Your Mouth All Over Your BoyBestie's Body To Quiet The Noise In Your Head, That's A Thing Right?, Buck Buckley Sure Thinks So
when you’re rewatching s9 e13 and your mum just asks why they’re not together
and when shown that one buddie x bad omens edit that’s like three minutes long (https://vm.tiktok.com/ZNRW4yVW4/) she responds with “to be honest I thought they were already a couple”
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