#buddie hurt comfort

[raepliica]

protecting each other

#trigun #cw blood #nicholas d. wolfwood #vash the stampede #vashwood #my art #hurt/comfort #i needed to draw them covered in blood #nothing more romantic than going ape shit when your buddy is injured<3 #and then lovingly tending to his wounds and staying by his side to comfort him<3<3 #they both would blame themselves sm for letting the other be wounded #ww wouldnt try to argue with vash that its no use for him to feel guilty and would just be there until his mood is better #while vash would try to understate his pain to try and reassure ww but he would totally see through his bs #THEY NEED TO COMMUNICATE PROPERLY IT MAKES ME GO CRAZY #vashwood nose nuzzle heals my soul #raepliica_art

[sorcerersseestars]

LIMERENCE (part I)

Gojo Satoru x gn!reader

"I can't stop loving you, no matter how hard I try."

summary: Your long-time friend stirs feelings inside you that you never realized existed. Of course they bubble up in your chest while he’s in the midst of ignoring you and discovering his own possible romance. Your mutual friend thinks she has it all figured out—or does she?

pairing: gojo satoru x gn! reader

fandom: jujutsu kaisen

genre: hanahaki sickness au, angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: mentions of feeling sick, being stonewalled kinda, usage of the word (Y/N) bc Gojo is too fed up for nicknames (in reality idk what else to use 😶), Gojo being an ass (common theme in my fics oops)

word count: 3.6k

a/n: This is the first part to my hanahaki au! I’ve had this in my drafts for the longest time, but never committed to writing it all out until now. This first bit is kinda slow and maybe confusing BUT hopefully I’ll be able to clear it up next chapter. Not proof read very thoroughly; will probably regret later 🫥

part ii

“DON’T YOU THINK you could be a bit nicer to me?” You try, clasping your hands together as you look up at him with an odd smile—a cross between apologetic and playful. You’re joking, or at least half joking. It’s too difficult to be serious with Gojo; his habit of masking emotion with jest must be rubbing off on you.

Only one corner of his mouth raises. “Good one, (Y/N)-chan. As if I didn’t use to pay your bills.”

He doesn’t look at you when he speaks, and he walks away from you without a single glance. You frown and lightly jog a few steps to catch up to him.

“Ah, and I’m forever thankful for that!” You say, cringing at how overly peppy your tone is. “But that’s not exactly what I meant.”

“Hmm,” Is all he says. His hands are in his pockets, but he doesn’t carry himself with as much ease as usual—his posture is closed off, angular and tense.

“What I meant was–” You prompt your own answer, as he doesn’t make any move to. “We haven’t seen each other in a while. I know you’ve been really busy lately, so I don’t blame you, but I think we should go out and do something. Could help relieve some work stress too, don’t you think so?”

“Maybe,” He says, the word short yet effective in its delivery. The word was sharp in his mouth, clear annoyance shaping his tongue enough for the word to have a bite to it.

You wince. He never used to be like this. Gojo has been in a state of perpetual mirth—and one could argue levity—for the entirety of your friendship, never taking anything seriously and always looking for opportunities to poke fun at you to half-jokingly glorify himself. His expression has always been infectiously positive—never molded into anything hard or serious.

But, lately, everything you thought you knew about Gojo Satoru has faded away into your memories. He never seeks out your presence anymore, which is polar opposite from your high school days, when he would follow you around and pester you until you’d hang out with him. You actually used to get annoyed at this behavior, but you’re sorely missing it now.

You feel like you know nothing about him these days, only hearing tidbits here and there from your mutual friend Shoko. It stings to know that he obviously talks to her, and quite often at that, seeing she always has new details to spill every other day.

It doesn’t make sense to you: him and Shoko were never particularly close, definitely not nearly as close as you and Gojo were. In fact, she thought of him as particularly annoying in high school, and often swore to you that she would cut all contact with him once they graduated.

Back then, you had rolled your eyes at her antics, never believing that anybody could cut Gojo out of their life, seeing as he simply wouldn’t let them. But how else could you describe what he seems to be doing to you?

You bite your lip nervously. “Satoru? Is there something wrong?”

“Not particularly,” He says with a forced smile that’s screaming for you to shut up. You pretend like it’s not the most disingenuous smile you’ve ever seen smeared on his face.

“Are you sure?” You probe. “I mean…what’s been going on with you these days? We haven’t seen each other in forever, and you don’t seem yourself.”

“Are you sure?”

His lips are quirked up, as they perpetually are, but it’s different this time. It’s mocking. A mocking smirk that’s telling you to face reality. Do you really know him anymore?

You pause in your steps, studying his expression. You can’t see his eyes, but you wish you could. He’s hard to read with that blindfold concealing those powerful eyes of his, but it never used to be a problem. It hurts that you’re now struggling to gauge him when your emotions used to feel like one.

Evidently, you can’t answer his question. Not that he seems to care.

“I’ve really got to get going. Students to teach, curses to kill, all that,” He announces, tone low and apathetic. Bored. “See ya.”

Your breath flutters in your throat as you try to bid him goodbye. You choke on your words and only end up tentatively raising a hand. Before you can wave, his form disappears. A gust of wind greets you in lieu of a proper goodbye.

You stay where you are for a few shocked moments, not even registering the hot tears that leak from the eyes he avoided.

You wander aimlessly around campus for a while, the whole interaction replaying in your head several times over. His “Are you sure?” needles its way into your brain even when you push it away, the words hitting where it hurts every time.

Your feet find themselves taking you to an empty break room – ah, this is the one that has your favorite flavor of tea. You turn the kettle on, then eagerly dig through the tea stash. You file through the individual packets quickly and thoroughly, but to no avail. It’s gone.

With a sigh, you grab a random tea bag and throw it into your mug. Frustrated, you roughly begin pouring the now-boiled water into the mug, but it doesn’t seem that was a good idea. Your hand slips for just a split second, but a sizable splash of boiling water still manages to singe your non-dominant hand. A stream of expletives leaves your mouth, and you instantly cradle your hand to your heart.

More tears appear. At least you have an excuse this time—it fucking hurts.

You trudge to the clinic, feeling quite silly, but also seeking some much-needed relief. And you’re not exactly imagining painkillers or an ice pack—no, there’s something else. Someone else.

You hesitantly knock on the door. You feel stupid, but you really have to see her.

You crack a smile at the creak of the door. Your friend and co-worker Shoko strides out with an air of confidence you wish you held.

“What happened?” She asks calmly, eyes lazily taking in your form.

“Spilled some water from the kettle,” You say lamely. “It hurts.”

That doesn’t really constitute a visit to one of the only reverse-cursed technique users in the school, and you know it. So does she.

“Mmhm,” She raises her eyebrows. “Well, come on in.”

You shuffle in a little sheepishly, not able to meet Shoko’s eyes. Now that you’re here, you start to feel unsure about your own motive—do you really want to discuss this? Won’t it just be embarrassing more than anything else?

You stall a little in your steps as the negative thoughts invade your head. You’re startled to attention by a poke to your side—when you look up, Shoko’s playful smirk fills your vision.

“Come on over to the sink and we’ll put that under some cool running water,” She says, gesturing to your reddened arm.

You cock your head, looking between her and the sink skeptically, “No ice?”

She shakes her head, sticking her tongue out at you a bit, “Nope! Running water for burns.”

You hold up your hands in defeat, smiling, “Whatever Doctor Shoko says.”

“And I do,” She says cheekily. “So get under that water!”

“Aye-aye,” You say with a salute.

She groans, “Ugh. You guys are so annoyingly similar. Hang on a sec, I gotta grab something.”

She turns away before she can see the way your expression drops. The smile is stolen from your face, leaving behind saddened eyes and a slight frown. There’s only one possible person she could be talking about.

You sigh and turn on the faucet—your disheartened sigh morphs into one of great relief as the cold water soothes your burn.

“That better?” Shoko asks upon her return.

You nod, a small smile coming back, “Yeah, thanks Shoko.”

“Is there something else wrong?” She asks, then shakes her head. “No, scratch that. What’s actually wrong?”

You take a deep breath. How are you going to broach this subject? You wait several moments, pondering your exact next words.

“Do you think Gojo is okay?” You finally ask your long-time friend, words coming out almost cautiously.

She eyes you funnily, “Why are you asking me? As if he doesn’t chase you around the school to blab on about himself.”

You smile, but it’s tainted by bitterness.

“Shoko…Gojo hasn’t talked to me for two months,” You admit quietly. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

She stops.

“What?”

You hate hearing the confusion in her voice. You hate the pity that soon fills her eyes.

“He seriously hasn’t,” You affirm, sighing. “I don’t know what I did, or if I did anything, or…or what. I just, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Have you tried talking to him about it?”

You sigh. “Of course I have, but he didn’t seem to take my concerns seriously. Or consider them at all. It just seemed like he wanted me to shut up and leave him alone.”

Shoko looks at you curiously, lips quirking as if she has something to say, but no words come out. Is she holding something back?

You take a deep breath, willing the horrible emotion that squeezes your throat away. You look out the window to distract yourself, watching the branches of a sakura sapling swaying in the wind. It looks alone and lost, battered by the relentless wind.

“What’s he been like recently with you?” You finally ask, your gaze still on the tree.

“Normal,” Shoko says. “Annoying as ever. Noisy as ever.”

A cluster of pink petals is ripped from a branch, swirling hopelessly to the ground. When they settle on the ground, you look back to your friend.

“He’s really the same?” You ask weakly.

“Unfortunately,” She says wryly. “Besides, why do you care? We’ve both been trying to get him off our backs since waaay long ago. Sounds like a blessing in disguise.”

“Ah, that’s true,” You admit with a weak chuckle, trying to ignore the way your heart throbs painfully. “But he’s also our friend.”

“Since when? More like a thorn in my side. Maybe he finally got the message,” Shoko smirks. “You should give me instructions for that. I’d have a lot better quality of life, you know.”

You know she’s just joking around with you, but she’s truly just rubbing salt in your wound. Not very ethical for a doctor, even if unintentional.

“Yeah,” You laugh, but it’s an empty sound. “Well, I guess I’ll get going then. Hopefully your next patient gives you an easier time.”

Shoko jokes, “Yeah, this has been my toughest job all week. You fiend.”

Your head is filled with so many questions, all of them growing louder as you walk away from your friend. Your friend who you thought would sympathize with you, but only ended up making you feel worse in the end is acting suspicious. It’s not like you’ve ever wanted to actually cut ties with Gojo, even when he used to pull pranks on you in high school. You craved for a strong friendship with him throughout all his shenanigans.

Why is Shoko acting like you hate Gojo, and what isn’t she telling you?

Before you reach the door, you decide you need to know. You stop abruptly in your tracks.

“Ieiri, you’re not telling me something,” You say softly, not looking back. “Why?”

Shoko sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, “You don’t miss anything, do you?”

You say nothing. The door in front of you is tempting—it’s your way out of knowing the truth. Do you really want to know?

You wait tensely for a few seconds, the silence causing nerves to bubble up in your stomach. But when Shoko begins to speak, they go don’t go away.

“He hasn’t really been acting strange around me, but he’s constantly on his phone. Like always. Whenever he comes to chat, he immediately tunes me out and starts texting or loudly takes a call,” She snorts, huffing out an exasperated sigh. “I thought he was just bored and trying to make me feel disrespected as a sort of cruel joke, but I think it’s something else. I think…I think Gojo is interested in someone.”

Your head whips around, disbelief clear in your features. Interested in someone?

“Maybe that’s why he’s been acting weird. I always thought he was crazy for you, so it didn’t cross my mind until now.”

“Crazy for me?” You immediately echo back, voice hollow and confused.

Shoko shakes her head at you, “C’mon, you can’t be that oblivious. He always followed you around like a lost puppy in high school. He never said anything to me about it, but I really thought he would confess any day for years.”

“He did that to everyone…” You shake your head. “You say yourself he bugged you so much.”

She rolls her eyes. “Trust me, it was different.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. Your vision becomes foggy at the edges, reality fizzling out.

“Why didn’t you want to tell me?” You ask. “It’s not like that matters.”

You try to appear uncaring, yet it was a fight to get those words out.

“You’re a sensitive person. ‘Didn’t know how you’d react since Gojo always seemed to chase after your attention, exclusively. But it’s not like it was the other way around—should have known it wasn’t a big deal. It’s not. Guess he’s just growing up.”

“Yeah,” You agree faintly, voice devoid of emotion. Reality is slipping through your numb fingers, the information turning your world into a nightmare. You should have opened the door and ran when you had the chance.

“It’s not,” You say with a saccharine smile, one so sickly sweet that Shoko gets chills. That’s not your usual smile—not one that Shoko has ever seen you wear. “Of course it’s not.”

When you turn on your heel and rush out of her infirmary, Shoko reaches out a hand and her lips part to call after you. It’s uncharacteristic for her—the cold doctor is rarely sentimental or emotionally affected, but she saw something ghastly in that smile of yours.

The slam of the door answers her call. The truth, now imparted, comes to bite her in the ass.

It’s been a few days. You’ve been moping around the school, around your students—trying to cope with the information that you don’t even know is true. You see him across campus sometimes; he’s so easily spotted with his translucent hair and tall frame. Every time, he’s facing away from you, and your eyes fall on the back of his head. Your chest always tightens and you end up turning away, too.

You have ignored the feelings stirring in your chest, not willing to admit something that clearly isn’t reciprocated. It has been working, you suppose, since you haven’t cracked under the mental weight of possibly being in lo—

No, you can’t even think that.

Everything has been as okay as it can. It’s not until you attempt to visit Shoko again to try sort out your feelings, however, that things take a turn for the worse.

Your hand is raised as you prepare to knock on the infirmary door, but you hesitate once you hear muffled voices.

“I don’t know…I didn’t expect it at all.”

That’s Gojo’s voice. That low but self-assured tone is undeniably his.

“Expect what?” Shoko asks, sounding bored.

His reply is so soft that it passes by as just a hiss of air, so quiet that you physically startle at Shoko’s loud reaction.

“No! What? I can’t believe that!” She shouts, laughter quickly following her exclamation.

You shouldn’t be listening—you hadn’t planned to eavesdrop on your two best friends, but for some reason your ear seeks out the wall, as if magnetized.

The next three words uttered still your heart.

“Utahime kissed me,” Gojo admits quietly.

You feel like you can’t breathe. Utahime, who has always despised Gojo even beyond Shoko’s extent. Utahime, who once cried into your chest after Gojo was harsh with her at an exchange event. Utahime, who always persisted that you and Gojo were into each other during high school.

Shoko’s unbelieving chuckle cuts through your thoughts.

Shoko laughs, “Oh, yeah, okay, as if I’d ever believe that.”

There’s silence. Your heart drops at the lack of response—no teasing refute, no playful faux playboy attitude.

Shoko absorbs his unusual silence, finally interpreting his words for what they are.

She gasps loudly, spluttering, “Oh my God, you’re being serious. What?! There’s no way…”

Gojo’s voice is even and deep. “I didn’t lie. She just did it out of nowhere. I didn’t even know how to react, to be honest.”

“So you just stood there?” Shoko snorts, trying to keep up her usual sarcastic persona. “God, you’re insufferable all the way around.”

“I kissed her back,” He breathes out, voice almost weak.

Another long moment of silence ensues. You hold your breath, terrified that your panicked pants will alert them of your presence.

Shoko recovers quickly this time.

“Still insufferable,” She sighs, and you can imagine her shaking her head. “So what now? You like her or something? This is so random.”

“I…I don’t know,” He admits quietly. “I never thought she’d do that, it took me by surprise. I…I think I liked it?”

Your heart shatters. You clutch a hand to your mouth, gagging yourself, forcing back the pained gasp that’s threatening to leave your lips.

“Oh, is that so?” Shoko says drily, but the usual edge to her voice is absent. You can only imagine her expression: contorted with pity and pain, desperately trying to maintain her poker face.

“Yeah,” Gojo reaffirms. “It was nice.”

There’s silence for a few seconds as Shoko takes it all in. Then, “Is she who you’ve always been calling and texting when I’m talking to you? You’re an ass for that, by the way.”

Gojo exhales out a sardonic sniff, “You’re spot on.”

Why are you still listening? You should leave. You shouldn’t be hearing this. Pain blooms in your chest, as if thorns became lodged between your ribs.

“What about (Y/N)?”

You freeze, eyes bulging out of your head.

Gojo sighs, sounding annoyed, “What do you mean?”

“I’m not dumb, Satoru. There was something going on during high school and frankly in the past few years as well. Are you going to deny it?”

He scoffs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Shoko. It was never like that.”

You feel like you’re going to be sick. You shouldn’t—there’s no possible way you’re actually in love with Gojo Satoru, is there?

Fuck. The thought you’ve been trying to avoid all this time has finally firmly inserted itself into your head.

You take off swiftly and immediately, and your footfalls are as light as you can possibly manage. If either of them knew you were here, you wouldn’t be able to handle the shame.

Gojo and Shoko are none the wiser to the immoral action that took place just beyond the door—so when Shoko is ready to clock out and opens the door, the presence of a school ID on the ground is nearly missed. She feels something strange crunch underneath her foot and steps away and glances at the foreign object.

You left in such a hurry that your ID flopped out of your pocket. It lays on the ground, your smiling face staring up at Shoko, who looks on in horror. She immediately knows that you heard everything. She quickly steps back onto your ID, concealing your identity with her foot.

With all the sight of his six eyes, Gojo somehow completely missed Shoko’s strategic maneuvers to erase traces of your presence. He whistles nonchalantly, not having a care in the world, apparently.

In contrast, Shoko’s mind is racing. Her eyes roam around the courtyard, searching for your form. She feels rooted to the spot—will she reveal you if she steps away? She almost forgets that she’s not alone.

“You looking for someone?” Gojo asks.

Shoko stiffens, but forces herself to relax and appear nonchalant. “Ah, I was just wondering if…if (Y/N) would still be around.”

Gojo frowns. “Hm. Not sure. Don’t they usually go home right after they get off?”

“Lately, they’ve been staying back to do paperwork,” She sighs. “Masamichi has really giving them too many missions…How come you don’t know that?”

“Haven’t had the chance to catch up, I guess,” Gojo says evasively, then quickly changes the subject. “Besides, aren’t you the same way? You coming or not? I’ve got better things to do.”

He waves his cell phone around playfully, a smirk widening across his features.

Shoko rolls her eyes, “Go ahead. I’m just going to wait here a bit and see if I can text them and get them over here.”

She hesitates for a second before adding, “Actually, why don’t you wait a sec? We haven’t all seen each other in a bit.”

Gojo immediately stiffens. He scratches the back of his head and says, “Ah, I’m actually sort of on a time crunch. Maybe next time.”

What a lie. Shoko thinks, eyes narrowing subconsciously. What is he up to?

As he trails off into the distance, the gears in Shoko’s head continue to turn. He always, always teleports home after work finishes. So why is he slowly walking around campus, head turning this way and that way as if searching?

And you! Why were you there? Why were you so affected? What is going on in your head—or rather, your heart?

Something strange is going on with her two friends and Shoko is determined to find out what.

PART II

credit 🩷:

@kiyaedits - baby pink dividers, @sweetxmelody - cherry blossom divider

*note: taglist open!! comment to be tagged in part 2 :)

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo behavior #hurt/comfort #gojo hurt/comfort #angst #jjk #best buddie shoko #sad bc utahime and shoko aren’t together in this one 😤 #Gojo is a hater

[wikiangela]

I'm comin' back, don't let me go

rating: G

word count: 7.3k

tw: mild suicidal ideation

summary: Buck's post-lightning breakdown takes him on a drive through the country, fighting not to give into his dark thoughts - a phone call from Eddie might be all he needs to lead him back home.

[read on ao3]

___

As soon as he starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot at the station, he thinks he doesn’t wanna go home, like all the time lately. Well, he doesn’t wanna go to his loft. He’s not sure he can call it home, it’s- it’s not. It probably never has been and never will be. He thinks he knows what home feels like, with Eddie and Christopher, if he’s even allowed to think about their house like that. That’s his home, that’s where he feels safe and comfortable, and like he can just be himself, and be wanted. 

He doesn’t want to go to the loft. He doesn’t want to go home, either, doesn’t wanna bother Eddie, worry him, when he has no explanation for how and why he feels the way he feels. His screwed up head is his concern, Eddie is probably busy anyway.

Ever since he died, Buck has been feeling… off. Numb. Sad. Exhausted. He’s not even sure how to explain it, how to voice it, so he doesn’t. When people ask how he is, he says he’s fine. And he is, he swears he is. He’s okay, he’s alive, he has his amazing friends and family, a job he loves, everything is fine. But… but. He’s not sure what the hell is wrong, but a part of him is not fine. Hasn’t been fine since the lightning strike.

[read on Ao3]

#buddie fic #buck driving fic #angst #evan buckley angst #emotional hurt/comfort #wikiangela writes #pre relationship #tw sui ideation #< not really but just in case #buddie #buck x eddie #911 fic #roundabout love confessions bc eddie couldn't shut up lol #self indulgent

[bigfootsmom]

watch me bleed (from all this wanting) by bigfootsmom for @lovebuck

buddie • hurt/comfort • explicit • 37.8k

Simply being surrounded by the smell of Eddie isn’t enough. He wants more, he wants to be wrapped in Eddie’s arms and held close. He wants to not feel so heavy for just a moment. He wants the warmth of another body pressed against his own, someone he trusts this time. He wants and wants and wants. The depth of his desire scares him, the mass of it too large for his body to contain, the pressure on his chest so immense he can barely breathe under the weight of it. After a hook up gone wrong, Buck finds comfort in Eddie.

read on ao3

thank you to @maygrantgf for the header <3

#911 fic #911 #buddie #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #hurt/comfort #pining #hurt evan buckley #molly writes #complete

[hopeintheashes]

hold me close when it's over

Post-hospital. Read it below or on AO3.

Buck's starting to fade by the time Maddie and Chim are clearing the dishes from the dining room table. Bobby stands to help them, and when Hen comes back from bringing a stack of plates to the kitchen, she looks Buck up and down. When she does the same to Eddie, it feels a little like he's been put through an X-ray machine.

"Alright, I'd better be getting home. Chris, do you want to come to my house, have a sleepover with Denny tonight? If it's okay with your dad?"

It's like she knows without asking that they're not making it home tonight.

Christopher shakes his head solemnly, and Eddie runs a reassuring hand over his hair and nods his wordless thanks for the offer.

"Okay." She squeezes Buck's hand. "You let everyone here take care of you, alright?" Mock-stern. "That's an order."

Buck manages a small, tired smile.

"You should go lie down," Eddie says quietly, but Buck gives the smallest shake of his head. Been lying down for days, it says. Eddie sighs. "Alright, living room, then. At least."

He has to help him to his feet and to the couch. Chris follows them in and curls up beside Buck. There's a dimmer switch for the lights, and Eddie turns them down low. "Okay," he says, and it's half a question and half not.

"We're okay," Chris says. He's got a hand on Buck's arm like he's holding him steady.

Holding each other steady. That's what they're all doing here.

Bobby's putting the last of the dishes in the dishwasher when he comes in. Chim's taken Jee-Yun to put her to bed. Maddie's wiping down the table and the counters. There's nothing left to do.

"I'll leave you to it," Bobby says as he hits start on the machine. "Athena just got home, and May's there tonight, too." Maddie nods and hugs him goodbye, and when Eddie does the same they both hold on tight, tight like they had in the hospital during the long, awful wait. When Bobby goes into the living room he brushes back Buck's hair and takes his face in his hands and kisses the top of his head and tells him, "I love you, kid," and Eddie knows from Maddie's quiet sniffle beside him that he's not the only one with tears in his eyes.

He hadn't asked. About staying. He'd just packed a bag with their toothbrushes and pjs and a change of clothes and thrown it in the truck. Just in case.

"The second guest room is all made up," Maddie says, before he has to figure out how. He nods, and blinks back tears, and she pulls him close and tells him, "You're always welcome here."

Chris is still watching over Buck when Eddie comes to sit beside them on the couch. "What do you think, should we stay here tonight with Buck?"

"Yes." With an emphatic nod.

"Good," Buck whispers, and it's like the relief washes away the last of the resolve that had been holding him upright against the couch.

"Bed," Eddie says, and holds out his hands, and Buck doesn't even protest the early hour, just takes Eddie's hands and grits his teeth and lets himself be pulled slowly to his feet.

"I can read to you," Chris says. "I brought my book."

Buck's asleep within the first two pages, so Christopher switches over to reading silently to himself. Eddie wants to stay and just watch this, his boys, forever, but the tug of good manners pulls him back to the living room and their hosts.

Chim raises his eyebrows when Eddie comes back into the living room: Everything okay? Eddie nods and makes himself sit down. It feels strange, at this point, not to be at the hospital anymore.

There are things they should say. Things they need to say.

It still feels too fragile. Too soon.

They all go to bed not long after that. Eddie lifts Chris out of Buck's bed and carries him into the next room like he's a little kid again, and changes into his old, soft shorts and t-shirt and brushes his teeth and sits on the edge of the bed watching Chris breathe in and out, soft and even.

He might have imagined the sound from next door, or it might have been Buck whispering his name, but either way when he goes back in he's met with the glint of hallway light off of half-opened eyes.

"Hey." So gentle. Coming close. Sitting on the edge of the bed. Brushing his fingertips over his hair. "Talk to me."

It's not meant to be an echo of before, but it ricochets between his ribs all the same. Makes his heart beat fast and his breath go shallow.

Buck frowns and scrubs at his eyes. "Hurts."

"Where?" Already looking around in the supplies Maddie had set up for painkillers and heating pads.

The frown tugs the corners of his mouth down even more, threatening tears. "Everywhere."

"Okay." He checks the medicine log on the bedside table and shakes out the right number of pills and hands them to Buck with a glass of water. Hovers at the edge of the bed while Buck swallows them, grimacing.

"Do you want a heating pad? Or an ice pack?" Keeping his voice low in the darkness.

Buck shakes his head and reaches for Eddie's hand. When Eddie meet him halfway, Buck gives just enough pressure for Eddie to get the hint and lie down beside him. "You're…" he starts, and maybe it means you're a good heating pad or maybe it means something else, but they're close and quiet in the dark and Eddie very gently wraps him up.

There's so much they should say, but it's too fragile, and too soon.

Buck takes Eddie's hand and places it flat against his chest, over his heart, ghosting over the broken ribs that have only barely started to heal.

You saved me.

Even through the swelling, Eddie can feel Buck's heart beat.

You saved me, so we're even. Let's never do this again.

Eddie lowers his forehead to brush Buck's shoulder and doesn't try to fight the sob.

Buck laces their fingers and exhales a shaky breath and his heart beats, and beats, and beats. We've got time. We'll figure it out in the morning.

We've got time.

#911 fic #911 fox #buddie #firefam #buckley siblings #buckley-diaz family feels #hurt/comfort #911 spoilers #by:hopeintheashes

[dizzybizz]

hi, sorry not sorry for these

#im very excited for ep9 :) take these angsty sketches in the meantime #well more so hurt/comfort- #i might go back and add some thoughts about these- we'll see #just thinking really hard about them comforting eachother and all #giving hugs... bringing tissues and a glass of water... listening... oooughhhh #i think they both deserve a good crying sesh #i was listening to the cutest mf music while drawing these- does it show #i am so so normal about them #buddy daddies #rei suwa #kazuki kurusu #fanart #my art

[stevesbipanic]

"You really haven't changed."

Sometimes, change is bad. Steve didn't like change when they moved to a bigger house when he was three, further from his grandparents. He didn't like when his mum stopped kissing his forehead goodnight. He didn't like when his dad started calling him Steven instead of champ. He didn't like seeing horrors behind his eyes where once were dreams.

Sometimes, change is good. Change can come in hugs from a fourteen year old instead of slaps on the back from a fellow player. It can come in your best friend joining in your dorky jokes instead of tripping kids. It's the walkie talkie beside his bed. It's feeling good for once.

Steve thought he'd changed for the better.

Eddie did too, or, at least Steve thought he did.

It had been a rough week for the boys, bills were due, tensions were high, hours were long and love was hard to find.

Steve had promised to pick up groceries on the way home, but he was so tired, and a shower and bed were so close, he's honestly surprised he even made it home the way his eyelids had been fluttering.

Eddie wasn't even supposed to be home til late but a part had to be ordered for the car he'd been fixing and wouldn't get there til tomorrow so he was home by dinner exhausted from a double shift to fix some rich wanker's car.

Eddie knows he should've understood. He should've seen Steve sleeping there and curled up beside him. But they hadn't had food for lunch so Eddie was starved and tired and his van's been acting up and Steve had promised that morning a sad look on his face when he knew Eddie would be missing lunch. The fridge is empty and Steve's asleep and he's so tired he should just sleep beside his boyfriend.

But it's not just the groceries.

It's the red due date on the bill on the fridge door.

It's the cold water in the shower he knows awaits him.

It's the fact that Steve didn't even kiss him goodbye since last Tuesday.

It's the cold part of Eddie's heart, the part Al Munson put there that no matter how much kindness Susie Munson put in would never leave.

It's the way they're screaming at each other now, over things they would've joked about last Spring when they first moved in.

It's the way they've been sleeping facing apart for three weeks.

It's the way Steve is crying and it doesn't make Eddie stop to dry his cheeks anymore.

It's the way Eddie knows how to hurt him.

"You really haven't changed."

It's the click of the door as Eddie leaves.

It's the way a slam would've hurt less.

It's the way the bed feels just as cold as the night before.

It's the crack in Steve's voice when he calls Robin.

It's the boxes in the driveway.

It's the word bullshit in his mind.

Sometimes change is good.

Steve thought he'd changed for the better.

It didn't stop the worst change of all.

The change that made them say goodbye.

#i normally hate writing eddie like this #but i got to to work through some shit #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things s4 #st4 #stranger things season 4 #ficlet #hurt no comfort #sorry steve im projecting on u buddy #angst

[thekristen999]

Follow You Into The Dark - 15k

Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV) Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley, Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Howie "Chimney" Han, Henrietta "Hen" Wilson, Bobby Nash Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Action/Adventure, Hurt Evan "Buck" Buckley, Hurt Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Canon-Typical Violence, Protective Evan "Buck" Buckley, Protective Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Feelings Realization, Arson, Temporary Character Blindness, Temporary Character Hearing Loss, Mutual Pining Series: Part 6 of BTHB Summary:

Buck kept a firm grip around Eddie’s arm as he was guided down hallways. They’d both experienced something like this before during the Academy: cadet’s exercises where both teammates were blindfolded and forced to depend on the other to escape burning buildings. This wasn’t unlike that experience, except of course this was real and Buck’s freaking eyes were swollen shut and Eddie was concussed and deaf.

(Or a serial arsonist terrorizes the city, plunging Buck and Eddie into a dangerous game of cat and mouse.)

.

#buddie #buddie fic #911 on abc #evan buckley #eddie diaz #hurt/comfort #whump #kristen999writes

[buddieswhvre]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Tagged by @steadfastsaturnsrings

Writing this one for Day 2 of buddie week. here's a wip with hurt Buck and protective Eddie (I've changed the timeline a bit so this one's based just before the lightning strike, I'm sure you know where I'm headed with this)

"No way that's true!" Chimney's surprised voice reverberated through the whole loft and drew everyone's attention to the conversation that they were having. Great, just great. This was exactly what Buck was dreading.

"What is true?" Eddie asked as Hen and Bobby also joined them. All three of them looked expectantly at Buck as Chim refused to give anymore explanation than the scandalized look on his face.

"I was telling Chim how when one is about to die, the brain replays all of our memories for seven minutes. It usually occurs because our brain is trying to find anything that might help us out from the traumatic incident. But it's still amazing to think how your whole life just flashes within seven minutes."

A silence fell in the loft as everyone tried to think the different memories that might wash over them in their final moments. Soon the conversation shifted to who would be predominant in their memories. Obviously, Hen talked about Karen, Chimney said Maddie, Bobby named both Athena and Marcy. Before Eddie could name someone the bell rang informing them of a new emergency.

Buck felt guilty for even thinking about this but he was glad that the bell interrupted them at this moment. Because how was he supposed to deal with the heartbreak when Eddie said Shannon's or maybe even Marisol's name or worse how was he supposed to explain that his seven minutes would be filled with Eddie, Eddie and only Eddie.

And even if he didn't get the chance to share about his take on the seven minutes, did it really matter? It wasn't like Buck would experience it anytime sooner. Right? Wrong.

I'm sorry I suck at tagging so here's some no pressure tags (lemme know if you'd like to be removed/added) @smilingbuckley @cal-daisies-and-briars @cinematics123 @honestlydarkprincess @diazpatcher @whiteowl-18 @wikiangela

#buck and eddie #buck x eddie #911 abc #buddie #eddie diaz #9 1 1 fanfiction #911 fanfic #911 fandom #buddie fanfic #evan buck buckley #edmundo diaz #wip wednesday #our brain revisits all memories in seven minutes #hurt/comfort #Hurt Evan Buckley #protective eddie diaz #buddie week 2024 #buddie wip

[introspectivememories]

walki with me... tommy kinard calling buck "baby"..... tommy kinard kissing buck..... tommy kinard gently holding buck's waist.... tommy kinard making buck laugh.... tommy kinard listening to buck ramble with stars in his eyes.... tommy kinard peppering kisses all over buck's face as buck blushes..... tommy kinard letting buck set the pace for their relationship..... tommy kinard calling buck "evan".... buck learning to love his own name because how can he not when tommy says it so gently..... buck sitting in tommy kinard's lap..... buck getting hurt on a call and tommy is there right away taking care of him.... buck waking up in the morning with his head pillowed on tommy kinard's chest as the sunlight streams in through the window and casts tommy in a sort of halo and his breath catches and buck is so happy he made it through his twenties and the tsunami and truck falling on him and the embolism and the lightning strike and any of other myriad of ways the universe has had it out for him because he gets to wake up to tommy motherfucking kinard in his bed as the sunlight gently cradles them in her embrace

("baby," tommy says, eyes still closed, less than two seconds later, hand brushing along buck's spine to card his fingers through buck's hair, "you're thinking too loud. go back to sleep."

buck honest to god flushes at the endearment. because that's what he is, tommy's baby. he's tommy's baby. jesus fucking christ, he feels like combusting. burying his head in his boyfriend's (boyfriend!!!) chest, buck tries not to whine.

"don't wanna," he whispers, peeking up at tommy, "wanna look at you."

tommy's other arm comes up to settle along his waist and buck wants to, fuckin', purr or whatever with how right it feels. tommy cracks open his eyelids to peer down at him.

"evan," his boyfriend (boyfriend!!!) says fondly.

and that's another thing he never knew about himself until he started dating tommy. he loves his name. not his nickname or his last name or buckaroo or any variant of that but his first name. he fuckin' loves the name "evan" or maybe he just likes the way tommy says it. and tommy has so many ways he says buck's name.

there's a soft, whispered "evan" in the mornings, and fond "evan" in the afternoons. there's an "evan" that tommy says like he's holding 3 tons of solid gold in his hands. there's an "evan" that he can barely get out through his laughs when buck bursts out with a fun fact at a wrong time. there's a choked-off, bitten, "ev-" when they're in bed at night and tommy can't believe buck is under him, gorgeous and panting. and there's the panicked "EVAN!" on a call gone wrong and there's an angry "evan" when buck doesn't take care of himself and there's a worried, two-syllable "ev-an" when he comes home with more bruises than he left with and there's-,

well the point is that there's a lot of different "evan"s that tommy says these day. he's going to catalogue them all one day. like his very own personal auditory archive. something to pull out on his off days.

"evan," tommy says fondly, "i'm not goin' anywhere sweetheart. i'll be here when you wake up. so go back to sleep, i'll be right where you left me."

and well-, buck forgets sometimes that this is a two-way street. that he may be tommy's baby but tommy's his boyfriend too. that tommy's practically required by law to be here when he wakes up. (oh by law?, he can almost hear his boyfriend snark. buck's bites the inside if his cheek to stop himself from giggling.) and more than some vague, ephemeral, Boyfriend Laws™️, tommy wants to be here when he wakes up. this is something tommy is actively choosing to do.

so when tommy says, "go back to sleep sweetheart" and "i'm not going anywhere, evan", well, who is buck to question that? he burrows deeper into the warm cocoon tommy has made, and let's his boyfriend's heartbeat lull him back to sleep.)

#are you still walking with me? #sorry about the word vomit at the end. this was supposed to be a joke post and then the bucktommy brainrot hit #nearly collapsed at work yesterday thinking about tommy calling buck 'baby' #and buck learning to love his name because of the multitude of ways tommy says it.... that's the good shit #they're endgame to me. like i still love buddie but like even if we never get buddie..... bucktommy is good for me #buck and tommy trying to hide their relationship except buck gets hurt on call one day and tommy comes running over and is so worried #he outs them. just gently calling buck 'baby' by accident in front of 118 and buck who is hurt and just wants comfort leaning into the #warmth tommy provides. well now i am just giving you a summary of 'all i know since yesterday everything has changed' by perfectlysunny #great fic btw. adore it. i rotate it in my head all the time. #911 abc #bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard

[babybucks]

wish me one more day to stay

buck/eddie | teen | 1k words

buck-centric + death as a narrator + processing buck's suicidal ideation

Death marks Buck as soon as he takes his first breath. She places a kiss on his head, close to his left eye—a reminder that he is tied to her as much as she is to him. He was made to be a sacrifice. A life for a life. A son for a son. It doesn’t work that way. Or: How Buck learns to live, as told by Death.

read on ao3

#it's a happy ending i promise! #it's more growth with a tinge of hurt/comfort #we're just processing his relationship with death through the years #buddie #911 #911 fic recs #buddie fics #911 buddie #buck x eddie #evan buckley x eddie diaz #9-1-1 fics #buddie fic recs #eddie x buck #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 abc #911 fox #ao3 fic recs #babybucks fics

[crinkled-emotions]

If you are taking prompts for buddie. Could you do one where Buck is sick maybe with food poisoning from the whumperil lists and Eddie ties care of him. If you don't like that prompt maye use the one "I think I need to sit down" for buck. Have eddie catch him and slowly lower him down.

If you arnet taking prompts that's ok! Thank.

Hehehehe anon I hope you're still here bc I'm BACK to be a menace to the 9-1-1 fandom (be completely ignored) and yet they can't get rid of me!)

I started a rewatch so I'd be ready for season 7 then I remembered it won't be (legally) available in Australia for ages... and kept watching anyway bc it's been so long since I did a complete rewatch from s1 e1. It's been SUCH a treat.

I've also got a friend watching for the first time and their excitement is reminding me so much of the first time I saw this bunch of adults in firefighter uniforms and went oh.

Anywho- on to the fic!

-

"Eddie, hold up!"

Eddie glanced over his shoulder, frowning when he spotted Bobby jogging down the stairs.

"What's up, Cap?"

"I know you're going home but I was hoping you could check on Buck. He just called out and I need to organise someone to cover him."

Eddie paused, brows furrowed.

"Did he say why?"

"I was hoping he'd told you."

That reminded Eddie- he hadn't heard from Buck all shift which was very unusual. He shifted his bag to his other shoulder and reached into his back pocket for his phone, checking his messages.

"I've got nothing, but I'll let you know what I find."

"Thanks Eddie."

Bobby squeezed his arm then headed back upstairs, calling out goodbye to Hen, Chim and Ravi who were also going home after a long 24 hours. Eddie also waved at them, sending a quick text to Buck to warn him he was stopping by. He was hoping Buck had a minor cold but something told him to stop by a pharmacy on his way over just in case.

-

One visit to CVS later and Eddie was letting himself into Buck's apartment, plastic bag in hand. The apartment was eerily quiet as he stepped inside, unusual because even if he was upstairs for a moment Buck usually had the TV in the living room playing for background noise. Eddie dumped the plastic bag and double checked the living area for signs of life, poked his head into the downstairs bathroom, and then took the steps to the mezzanine level. His eyebrows knit together in confusion as he took in the rumpled blankets, the empty water bottles strewn throughout the room, and Buck-

Buck.

"What happened to you?"

Eddie knelt by the Buck-shaped figure in bed, finding his shoulder and giving it a gentle shake.

"Ugh, Eddie no, don't. I'll puke again."

"Again?"

Buck groaned, turning his head. Blue eyes met brown and Eddie put the back of his hand to Buck's forehead.

"You're a little warm. How long have you been puking?"

"What time is it?"

"Nearly 1pm."

"Almost twelve hours."

Buck leaned into Eddie's touch, eyes fluttering shut into a grimace when Eddie pulled the blankets off.

"C'mon, sit up. Let me get a better look."

Unwillingly Buck did as asked, leaning against the headboard.

"Does anything else hurt?"

"My head and my stomach; I think I ate something bad."

"Wait here."

Eddie hefted himself back up, rounding the bed to go back downstairs. Buck huffed, swiping at his eyes.

"Not like I can go anywhere!"

He grumbled, playing with a loose thread on his boxers.

"Not without puking at least."

He glanced up when he heard footsteps on the stairs and Eddie reappeared, plastic CVS bag in hand.

"What are you doing?" Buck asked, watching Eddie dump it on the end of the bed and rifle through it for a moment.

"I got you something... aha!"

He produced a bottle of Pedialyte and a plastic cup he must have grabbed from downstairs, pouring a serving of the liquid and then handing it to Buck.

"Bottoms up."

"Eddie," Buck groaned, "I-"

"-I know, you're really nauseous. Just trust me."

Eddie's never led him astray before and he's not likely to start now. Not after everything. Not after last summer.

Eddie still gets a funny look on his face when Buck brings up that random Friday morning kiss. It's not regret, it's never regret, just... well. Buck's not really sure. He's never seen Eddie like that.

He downed the Pedialyte.

-

The nausea reached its peak a few minutes later and it was only Eddie's quick dad/medic responses that got the trash can under Buck's chin in time. He'd been sitting on the other side of the bed, flicking through the channels to find something to watch considering it was almost 2pm. The minute Buck scrambled to sit up again after being asleep for almost an hour Eddie had grabbed the trash can and handed it to him with lightning fast reflexes, instinctively rubbing Buck's back. When Buck resurfaced Eddie handed him a tissue, switching that for the soiled bin liner.

"Here. You- uh."

"Thanks."

Buck's voice was hoarse as he wiped himself off, cheeks flushed a gentle pink. Whether that was from the fever, the humiliation of throwing up in front of his crush or a combination of both he wasn't willing to think too hard about. Eddie hefted himself off the bed, taking the trash can from his hands.

"Back in a sec."

He headed for the ensuite and Buck listened to the toilet flush then the sink run, hand slapping out to reach for his water bottle Eddie had kindly refilled earlier. A couple sips settled without issue in his stomach and he adjusted when Eddie reappeared, placing the bin back down beside Buck before flopping on to the bed with him and reaching into his back pocket for his phone.

"Chris said they're starting Earth Sciences this week," he said absentmindedly as he replied to whatever was going on then tossed his phone on to the bedside table and glanced over at Buck.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm gonna sue them," Buck complained pitfully as he lay back down, burying his head into his pillow. Eddie snorted.

"Careful Buck, remember last time you did that?"

An eye opened, the blue a stark contrast against the dark sheets, but then Buck smiled.

"I'll sue you too Eddie Diaz."

Eddie rolled his eyes as he swatted at Buck's shoulder, grabbing the remote again.

"Sure you will, man. Now what do you want to watch?"

Buck hummed, scrubbing at his eyes.

"Mmmmm... nothing food related."

Eddie flicked past an old rerun of Martha Stewart, nodding.

"Of course."

-

The clock struck five and Eddie carefully extracted himself from where Buck had somehow managed to curl up with his head on Eddie's thigh and was having another sick nap. He checked his phone and saw the notification that the food was almost there so he went into the kitchen and grabbed bowls. He heard someone knock on the door and went over to take the food from the delivery guy, thanking him as he carried it back to the kitchen island. In a couple minutes he had Buck's broth in a bowl and warm, his own stir fry hot and begging to be eaten. Considering Eddie had just come off a 24 hour shift when he headed to "check" on Buck, the food was very welcome and he took a couple bites for himself before sneaking upstairs to check on Buck. He was still asleep and for the first time since Eddie had barged into his apartment, he didn't look like he was uncomfortable. A part of Eddie felt cruel for waking him but the other part of him, the medic part, knew Buck needed something in his stomach that wasn't Pedialyte or water.

"Hey, Buck, come eat something," he called up the stairs. Eddie heard Buck groan followed by the sound of him trying to get out of bed.

"Eddie I'm dying," he groaned. Eddie rolled his eyes.

"You're clearly feeling better if you're complaining about dying. C'mon, come down here."

Sure enough, Buck made his way downstairs in a pair of athletic shorts and a shirt just as Eddie tossed a spoon down on the table beside the bowl. He collapsed into the seat in front of the soup, one eye on the downstairs bathroom door.

"Try and keep that down then we can talk about something solid."

"Thanks, Eds."

Buck picked up the spoon and tentatively worked on getting the soup down; Eddie joined him after a minute and practically chewed through his stir fry without even thinking about it. Nothing could ever be as good as Bobby's-

Oh, that's what he forgot.

Bobby: is everything okay?

Bobby: Eddie?

Eddie: sorry Bobby I completely forgot

Eddie: he's got food poisoning but he's already coming out the other side

Bobby: I figured you'd call if there were issues. Thanks Eddie

Buck, sitting beside Eddie working on his soup, raised an eyebrow as Eddie put his phone down.

"What's Chris up to?"

"Hopefully not begging Carla for a second serving of ice cream. No; that was Bobby. He was worried when you called in."

Buck frowned; Eddie could see where his mind was going and touched his shoulder.

"I would have come to check on you if I'd known even if he didn't ask. You don't call out of work unless you're contagious or it's serious."

Buck pushed away the soup, elbow on the table so he could rest his head on his hand. Eddie reached over to check him for a fever again.

"How do you feel?" He asked. Buck made the so-so motion.

"My head hurts."

"Go lie on the couch; I'll change your sheets so you can go to bed."

"Eddie no, you don't have to-"

"-Buck, it's clean sheets; not a marriage proposal."

Buck's mouth twitched upward into a smile; Eddie squeezed his shoulder and left the table to go upstairs. Buck watched after him with a warm feeling in his stomach.

It wasn't nausea.

-

When Buck stirred the next morning he paused, grimacing to take stock of the situation. His head was down to a gentle (irritating) throb against his temples but his stomach was staying put for the time being. The sheets were still tucked over him and he yawned into his hand, rolling over and tossing an arm over his bed mate-

Wait.

Cracking his eyes open Buck took stock of the situation. He knew he'd been sick again sometime overnight, barely able to remember tossing cookies (soup) because it had come out of nowhere in his doze. Part of him remembered Eddie being there, a figure in the darkness and he'd-

He'd stayed.

"Eddie," Buck whispered. Eddie cracked an eye open and reached his arm out, brushing a thumb over Buck's cheek.

"You look better," he rasped. Buck hummed.

"You didn't have to stay."

"Hm, well, maybe I wanted to."

Buck's eyes fluttered shut as he revelled in the feeling of Eddie's thumb on his cheek. When Eddie was half asleep he could be incredibly tactile and Buck lived for when he got to see Eddie like that.

"No one needs to see-"

"-Buck. I want to know when you're sick, or you're hurting. Whatever it is."

Buck's cheeks flushed and he buried his face back against his pillow. Eddie's hand moved to the back of his neck, brushing through the ends of his hair like it was something he did all the time.

"Thanks for coming, Eddie."

"Sure."

Eddie gently squeezed Buck's shoulder.

It felt like coming home.

-

#9-1-1 #911 #911 on ABC #911onabc #Evan Buckley #Buck #Eddie Diaz #Buddie #Sickfic #Hurt/comfort #Fluff

[buckleysjareau]

i took the medicine, but i’m up in the middle of the night again

Here’s the thing, Buck has always been an anxious person.

or

An exploration of Buck’s anxiety, accepting help no matter how scary it is, and how the 118 come to help him in their own ways.

READ ON AO3 HERE

Here’s the thing, Buck has always been an anxious person.

Underneath his big, extroverted personality was someone who was constantly overthinking every little thing he said and felt. His mind was constantly a mess of why did I just say that, what did that look mean, where’s the closest exit in case something bad happens and can I sit there?

In high school, when he just could not get himself to focus no matter how hard he tried, those thoughts would slowly get louder and louder and louder until they completely overtook him, drowning out everything else around him until all he could hear and feel was his heart trying to beat through his ribcage. He never seemed to remember how he got to be sitting on the bathroom floor, only ever being able to recall thinking I need to get out, get out, abort.

That call definitely got his parents’ attention.

“You’re skipping class now? It’s that football team, isn’t it? What’s next, selling drugs?”

Maddie finds him that night on his bedroom floor struggling to breathe. She helps sit him up, pushes his head between his knees and tells him to match her breathing. When he’s finally able to breathe in sync with her, he tearfully begs her to tell him what is wrong with him and why this keeps happening.

Having a name to what he was experiencing should have made him feel better, but it doesn’t. Having panic attacks is just another reason on a whole list of reasons why his parents can’t love him.

He doesn’t tell them about his panic attacks and begs Maddie not to tell them either. He makes her pinky swear that it stays between them.

It only happens one more time before he graduates.

He gets accepted into Penn State on an athletic scholarship and finally escapes the suffocating expectations of living with his parents.

He quickly learns that even though he’s not under their roof physically, he still feels stuck there. It’s like his body is at Penn State but his mind never left Hershey.

It’s like he never left.

The overwhelming feeling of having to be perfect or hurt to keep someone’s attention. The constant pit in his stomach and the dread that follows him wherever he goes. The only time he feels even remotely like a functioning human being is when he’s too drunk to forget he has anything else to worry about.

The drinking affects his studies, and his poor studies affects his athletic scholarship, and he’s forced to move back to a place where he has to get himself hurt in order to not feel invisible.

A screaming match with his parents ends with his first panic attack since high school. It’s truly like he never left.

He enrolls in community college just to have something to do so he’s not stuck inside that hell all day. He meets people his second week there and soon enough, his partying habit is back in full force. His parents are beyond angry every time he returns in the middle of the night, but when he doesn’t come home at all for days at a time, they don’t notice his absence. Much like it was when he was growing up.

He uses the tuition money on modifications for his motorcycle and bankrolls a few of frat parties. He’s not surprised when he’s kicked out of that school, but he was definitely sick with anxiety. His parents were going to kill him.

He’s thinking that as a car pulls out and he has no time to brake before he’s crashing right into the car.

The medics bring him to Presbyterian to get checked out, but as soon as they discharge him he gets a ride to his only other option, his safe space, to his sister.

When she turns him away with sad eyes, he has to swallow back his panic. It’s not Maddie’s fault he’s a fuck up. She shouldn’t have to deal with his bad decisions.

He just about manages to stave off a panic attack by the time he needs to face his parents. Then Maddie shows up with a ticket out of here in the form of her Jeep and he feels the weight ease off of his chest.

He’s mad, and he’s hurt, so fucking hurt, when Maddie stands him up with no more than a note but it doesn’t stop him. He leaves in Maddie’s Jeep without her steady, supportive energy next to him. He sits with it for a while and then he starts living.

He still feels anxiety but it’s not consuming him the way it used to. He can do things and it wouldn’t matter because he’d be off in a new city in a few weeks anyway.

—

LA was good for him. The fire academy was good for him.

It was good for Buck.

His first four months as a probie were a little rough, but after his wake up call that came in the form of him getting fired, being fortunate enough to have a second chance, and meeting Abby, it all seemed to settle down again.

Bobby, Hen, and Chimney seemed to fully accept them into their little family and what a concept that was; he had a family.

A family who didn’t look through him as if he was invisible.

They saw him.

Which is why Hen can see through his half-assed ‘I’m fine' when his anxiety is too much to push away, he presumes.

A lot has happened within two weeks and it all seemed to be piling up, one thing after the other and Buck could feel himself slowly losing the tight grip he thought he had on his anxiety.

Abby stops responding completely. Their communication slowly dwindled down to nothing, a short phone call once a day, a text here and there, an update every time she went to a different country, and then nothing. He couldn’t help but obsess over what he could have done wrong. The dread that he somehow messed up, that he wasn’t enough to yet another person, keeps him up at night. He explains away the circles under his eyes by complaining about Abby’s loud neighbors. He thinks they believe him.

Then Eddie Diaz joins and the team treats him like he hasn’t just graduated from the fire academy. It took four months for the team to trust that he knew what he was doing, and it’s Diaz’s first day and they let him lead. He can’t stop from spiraling over the fear that the team won’t think he’s as good as Eddie and that’s all it will take to replace him. He reverts to old habits and lashes out. Fortunately for himself and everyone around them, Buck gets over it after he bonds with him over a live grenade but it does nothing to alleviate his anxiety.

In the middle of all of that, Maddie comes back. The sister he hasn’t talked to in three years. While he’s so relieved to see her, it brings up feelings he had buried deep down. He finds out why he hasn’t heard from her in three years and he has to try with everything in him not to have his first panic attack in years and make it about himself. Because it wasn’t about him.

Then the earthquake happens and he almost loses Hen.

All of the anxiety from the past two weeks starts to bubble over and it becomes harder to hide. He picks at his cuticles until they bleed and finds it hard to stop bouncing his leg even, even — especially — after a sleep deprived Chimney tells him to knock it off when they’re on the way to a call.

Hen notices, of course she does. She hands him a band aid, gesturing towards the cuticle around his thumb starting to drip blood at the look of confusion. He tells her he’s fine with the most convincing smile he could muster.

She lets him think she believes him for the first half of the shift, but after a particularly difficult rescue that leaves Buck shaking and carefully counting his breaths so as to not hyperventilate, she pushes.

He’s pacing back and forth, tugging at his hair with a grip so tight that his curls are messily on show, when Hen finds him.

She’s leaning against the door to the bunk room when he finally sees her. He’s startled enough to lose count on his breathing and that’s all it takes to slip into panic attack territory. His breaths immediately get faster as he tries to force out a lie.

Hen clocked it right away. “Don’t you dare tell me you’re fine right now, Buck. Talk to me.”

“I–I, uh, I ca–” As if that’s easy. “I–”

Hen seems to take pity on him as he starts to hyperventilate.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, you don’t have to talk. Just breathe for me, okay? Can you do that?”

“I can’t b-breathe, I c–”

“Yes you can, Buck. You just gotta slow it down. Just let me count and you follow, okay?”

Buck nods.

—

Hen gets him through that panic attack. He begs her to not tell Bobby about his weakness and no amount of reassurance that it wasn’t a weakness made him back down.

After that, it’s never talked about again.

Not until he finally decides to go therapy and Dr. Copeland suggests that he try medication for his anxiety.

An actual diagnosis. That his therapist highly recommends getting medicated for.

He’s stuck on that fact for days after that session and even Eddie has a hard time getting through to him. He keeps this diagnosis and his contemplation to himself.

Until his parents come to LA and blow up his life.

He has a panic attack in Chimney’s passenger seat and happens to spill his guts in the midst of it.

“There’s nothing shameful about taking medication, Buck. You take medications to improve your physical health, why is it so different when it comes to your mental health?” He gives Buck a pointed look. “And look, after everything this week, a mental breakdown or a panic attack was definitely due but you said yourself, it’s getting to be a frequent thing and it’s affecting your physical health now too. What’s stopping you from at least trying it out?”

“What if it doesn’t help? What if I’m too messed up for medication to cure me?”

What if all he is is just his anxiety and nothing he does will be able to fix it? What if living with this is his big punishment for not being able to save his brother? What if this is all he is and all he ever will be?

“Daniel dying is not your fault, Buck.” Chimney starts off, making Buck realize his spiral was spoken out loud. “And the anxiety you feel? That’s not who you are and that’s not all you’ll ever be. You’re Buck, a damn good firefighter and an even better friend. You deserve to get help, man. Accept it.”

As if accepting help is truly that easy.

“Thanks, Chim.” He mumbles instead.

—

All the medication does is make him more anxious. He feels like he’s going out of his mind and finds himself regretting letting Chimney talk him into getting help.

“That’s not who you are and that’s not all you’ll ever be.”

Doesn’t seem like it to him. Not as he’s on the verge of a panic attack even after taking the medication that would supposedly help him feel less anxious.

He’s halfway through his shift and it’s just past family dinner. He definitely doesn’t want to jinx it but the shift has been relatively not busy so far, however he feels the anxiety of a call gone wrong layered on top of a sense of dread that something will actually go wrong.

His eyes hover over Eddie sitting across from him, book in hand, seemingly immersed in what he’s reading. He tries to pull comfort just from seeing him, knowing that he’s okay, but images of Eddie on asphalt surrounded by a pool of his own blood flash behind his eyes. Blinking rapidly, he tries to pull his attention somewhere else and lands on Bobby at the sink, not paying attention to the glasses he’s washing, instead choosing to look over at Hen and Chimney who are laughing at something Buck couldn’t hear over the sound of his racing heart. All he can focus on is the knife Bobby is so carelessly washing off and what if it slips and hits something serious? What if something can go so horribly wrong just from washing dishes? It’s not the first time something’s happened like that. He can’t lose Bobby because of a simple slip of a knife he was washing. He can’t lose him at all–

He’s pulled out of his spiral by a sting of pain. He looks down at his hands to see his cuticles practically torn to shreds. His anxiety has never made him pick at them as much as it has right then and he’s on medication so obviously the problem was him, he’s not fixable. The anxiety is all he is. The medication isn’t helping. This really was just a perpetual punishment for not being able to save his brother. He’s always going to–

Buck stands abruptly, catching the attention of his team. The only excuse he can think of to not worry them is gotta pee, brb.

He’s too focused on getting somewhere safe he doesn’t have time to cringe at the lame excuse.

The second he’s down the stairs, he stops. He can’t go into the bunk room knowing Harmer is still in there, taking a nap before he loses the opportunity to. He thinks maybe the back of the engine, but someone would hear that door shut and realize he was lying. The only option he found was Bobby’s office.

The second the door is shut, Buck’s body seems to give out from under him and slumps down the side of Bobby’s desk and is powerless to the panic that takes over him.

By the time he’s not actively having a panic attack, he has no idea how much time had actually passed while he was curled in on himself. What he does know is that he feels completely spent and devastated that there was no fixing him. He was broken, cursed to a life full of sometimes debilitating anxiety.

The sob that leaves his throat is completely involuntary and he can’t seem to stop it. He tries to keep his cries quiet so as to not bring attention to Bobby’s office, but little did he know there was already someone right outside.

“Buck?”

He freezes at the concerned voice of his Captain. He can’t find it in himself to find a response so he says nothing at all.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” Bobby’s voice is closer now and when Buck looks up, their eyes meet and all Buck can do is shake his head as more tears gather in his eyes.

“I’m not fixable.”

“What are you talking about?” The concern is radiating off of him.

He feels guilty, extremely guilty, for making Bobby feel like this, so much like when he told Chimney all of those weeks ago, he spills his guts.

He’s surprised to find out he feels a little lighter than he felt before and he lets himself accept the comfort of his Captain.

“You’re not broken, kid. We’ll figure it out.”

For the first time, he starts to believe maybe he wasn’t broken.

—

Bobby was a godsend when it came to his anxiety after that.

That morning, after they were done shift, Buck followed Bobby back to his and they came up with a plan and he was filled with hope for the first when it came to his anxiety.

Bobby convinced him to give the medication a little more time to even out before he gives up on it. He’d continue taking it and whenever his anxiety got to be too much, he’d text Bobby or let him know and they would work through it together.

The plan was really utilized the first couple of weeks after he continued his medication. So much so that Eddie started to ask questions. He can only assume that the only reason Chimney and Hen weren’t asking questions was because they already figured out what was going on.

The only answer Eddie ever got from both Buck and Bobby was that there was something Bobby was helping him. Though Bobby tried to convince Buck to confide in him as well, the fact that Bobby even knew was mortifying enough.

Eventually, the meds started to work and he started to level out and things were easier from there on out. Of course, the anxiety still got the best of him after high intensity moments. It was especially bad after Eddie had been shot, released, and recovered. He was still constantly anxious whenever it came to Eddie, but he’s aware that it would have been a lot worse if he wasn’t on them.

The grounding techniques his therapist and Bobby taught him gave him the knowledge on how to help Eddie with his. Even seeing someone else having a panic attack was enough to make him anxious, especially Eddie, but he was able to keep himself calm and help Eddie with his own.

Everything eventually settled down with Maddie and Chimney back in Los Angeles, and Eddie back at work. He often found himself calm and collected more times than not, and that’s enough for him to let himself get comfortable again.

Maybe he let himself get too comfortable.

First Bobby doesn’t consider him for interim captain, and then Len dies in front of him in the middle of telling him the secret to happiness, and then something that should make him feel good like helping someone out to have the one thing they want more than anything only makes him spiral more. He says yes, but then everything in the universe makes it seem like it’s giving him a sign not to do it. He finally makes it but now everyone knows, not just Hen. Bobby finds Wendell, and seeing someone he finds strength in so disconnected makes something hurt in his chest. Kameron and Connor are pregnant and he feels happy for them, he really does but there’s something there that Buck can’t seem to shake.

And then his parents come. Albert brings Chimney’s dad and step mom.

It all starts to feel a little too much to deal with.

He distracts himself by cooking and tries to get Bobby out of his head as well by asking him for advice on what he was missing. It makes Bobby laugh which makes him feel a little bit better.

The anxiety gets a little too much during dinner at Maddie’s when everyone starts fighting about him. It’s at this moment that he realizes with everything going on, the fact that he had to refill his prescription two days prior slipped his mind. He’d taken his last pill three days ago and completely forgot to call in a refill.

He slips out when Maddie comes in with Jee and goes through a grounding exercise. He thinks about calling Bobby but the exercise itself is enough to calm him down enough to reassure himself that it’s okay that he forgot, he’ll just call it in the next day and pick it up before work.

Except that doesn’t happen. He oversleeps and he rushes to work and man, someone must have said the Q word because they barely had a break. By the time he has any time at all to call in the refill, the pharmacy is already closed.

Then they’re called to an apartment fire. Everything feels okay. No sense of dread. Chimney and him start up banter and then he’s up the ladder. Everything is fine.

And then he dies.

For three minutes, apparently. He wakes up in a world that is so much like the one always wanted growing up. Until it isn’t anymore.

Maddie’s with Doug. Bobby is dead.

He doesn’t want to be stuck there any longer.

When he comes to, all he feels is relief to see his sister. His parents are standing over him next to his doctor crying, but all he can focus on is Maddie.

And then he sees Bobby alive and well. That’s enough to calm his racing heart for the moment and everything feels okay.

Until he’s home. His parents went back to Pennsylvania, not before buying him the most uncomfortable couch in existence. He’s carted to doctor appointments after doctor appointments, test after test, and still has no answer on if he’s medically cleared to go back to work. He feels dread about going back to work.

While he appreciates Maddie and everyone’s visits, he’s starting to go a little crazy.

He caves after Sudoku and heads over to Eddie’s.

Eddie’s place is always peaceful. It feels more like home than his own loft.

“Hey!”

Buck steps in as Eddie moves aside to let him. “Please don’t ask me how I am.”

“Kay.” He breathed, amused. “Want a beer?”

“Ah, probably more than one.”

Eddie chuckles, walking away as Buck gets himself comfortable and closes his eyes. “Guess all that company wore ya out.”

And that’s the last thing Buck hears before the exhaustion takes over.

When his eyes flutter open, he notices he’s at Eddie’s house and it’s night time. That’s enough to ground him and make him realize that this was real life, that he wasn’t back in that reality.

There’s something about the way he’s feeling that makes him feel particularly fragile though.

So fragile he almost breaks when Eddie finally asks him how he is.

When Eddie reminds him that he died, and that he’s going to feel a lot of different ways about it, it’s said in a way of comfort but the dread that comes back through his entire system seems to have the opposite effect.

“I found the best way to process it is to allow yourself to feel it.”

“But you, uh, you do eventually right? You process it.” He hopes he’ll get reassurance from his answer.

“Everyday you open your eyes in the morning you feel a little less surprised the world is still there.”

Buck is silent after that. He can’t understand why after all of this reassurance that he would eventually be okay, he can only feel this dread. Something is wrong.

It only hits him as he’s settling back in on the couch, Eddie next to him this time, that Bobby never answered his text from the afternoon.

He texts him again and then settles back as Eddie puts on the TV as a distraction. He’s so grateful for how well Eddie can read him at that moment. Simple, quiet company was what he needed after an entire two days of people coming to constantly check on him.

The distraction worked for a little while, but Buck notices that Bobby still hasn’t texted him back.

Hey Bobby, how are you?

Delivered.

Surprised you weren’t involved in Operation Drive Buck up a wall with visits. Haha

Delivered.

Hey Bobby, haven’t heard from you today. Is everything okay?

Delivered.

Fear floods Buck’s entire body as he begins to spiral about why Bobby wasn’t answering. He was positive he wasn’t back in that coma dream because he was at Eddie’s and it was night time but his mind couldn’t help but spiral there anyway.

Is he back? Is Bobby actually dead and he’s not actually at Eddie’s and it’s all just some weird elaborate dream inside of a dream? Is he out of the coma dream and there is actually something wrong with Bobby? What if the people that killed Wendell killed him, too? His call went straight to voicemail. He’s dead. Bobby’s dead in this life now, too. Why isn’t he texting him back? He always texts him back. Athena hasn’t answered either. What if they’re both dead? He can’t do this without Bobby. He’s panicking right now and Bobby isn’t alive to help him through it this time. Bobby—

“Buck!”

His eyes snap open to find Eddie sitting in front of him on the table and feels a hand on his. He can’t breathe again. His body is shutting down. Did he run out of time? He was stuck in this hell forever. He ran out of time.

“Buck, just keep your eyes on me. It’s okay, I promise, everything is okay.”

“Bobby–”

“Is okay. I’m not so sure about you right now though, so just try to breathe through it with me.”

“No, no, he died. He was dead. He isn’t answering me like he usually does. Something’s wrong.”

Buck felt like he was dying. He’s not so sure that he isn’t. It’s like he’s back there.

“Okay, okay, it’s okay. Hey, Buck, what’s your favorite flavor of Jell-O?”

Through everything, that makes Buck pause. What?

“What are– what are you–”

Dear God, this was the worst panic attack he’s had in a while. Why the fuck is he asking about–

“St–strawberry.” He chokes out.

“Okay, okay, good choice. Buck, I want you to close your eyes for me again, okay? Can you do that?” He shuts his eyes. He’ll do anything to stop this feeling. “I want you to think about your feet, okay, and feel them turn into soft, strawberry Jell-O.”

His eyes snap open. “Eddie–”

“Just trust me. Can you do that?”

He nods and closes his eyes again. Trusting Eddie was as easy as breathing…ya know, when he’s not having a massive panic attack.

“Think about your feet turning into soft, strawberry Jell-O.”

So he does. He doesn’t understand but he does. “You feel that?”

“Yeah.” He chokes out.

“Good, good. You’re doing so good for me, Buck. Now let that Jell-O go up your calves… now up to your thighs, up to your pelvis, and stomach.”

Buck can feel him lighten the grip he didn’t even know he had on Eddie’s shirt. Breathing starts to get easier.

“Your whole body is turning into squishy, bouncy Jell-O.”

Buck huffs out a small laugh at how ridiculous it sounds but thanks God that it’s working.

“Now let it run to your chest, your arms, your head…”

He takes in a deep breath and opens his eyes to meet Eddie’s. He’s smiling softly at him, pride in his eyes along with relief.

“You are one giant Buck Jell-O mold.”

That has Buck’s entire body relaxing, body collapsing forward into Eddie’s chest and keeps breathing.

It’s quiet for a little bit until Buck’s phone buzzes on the table next to Eddie. His head shoots up and grabs his phone with enough speed and force to almost knock Eddie off the table.

Bobby

Sorry I missed your texts, kid. It’s been a crazy day. How about I stop by with breakfast in the morning if you’re feeling up to it.

Buck lets out another cry at the sight of Bobby’s message. He ignores the look on Eddie’s face that means they’re going to talk about what just happened and focuses on texting Bobby back.

You know I’m always up for your cooking, Cap. Glad you’re okay :)

After he puts his phone down, he looks back up at Eddie and sighs. “Guess you wanna know what that was all about, huh?”

“I’ll admit I’m concerned but I’m not gonna make you talk if you’re not ready. That was a pretty bad panic attack, I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

Buck huffs. “Yeah, probably one of worst ones I’ve had since–”

Oh.

“Since?”

He never refilled his prescription.

“Since Bobby convinced me to stay on the medication they gave me for my anxiety.”

The anxiety he tried like crazy to hide from Eddie.

“Oh.” Eddie doesn’t seem surprised. “Can I ask what caused it this time?”

His voice is so soft and understanding that Buck can’t hide what happened in his coma dream any longer.

“Bobby was dead in my coma dream.” He starts to pick at his cuticles as anxiety starts to flood his system once more. Eddie doesn’t allow that to continue though, taking both of his hands in his and rubbing circles into the tops of his hands. “I have to text him every time I wake up so that I know I’m still here and not in the reality where he’s not alive.”

He hates that he can start to feel himself start to panic again. He feels like if he’d remembered to refill his medication that it wouldn’t be this bad. So, so stupid.

“You’re not stupid. It’s been a hectic couple of weeks, anyone could forget to refill a prescription with everything that’s happened to you.” He needs to stop spiraling out loud and not realizing it.

“The psychiatrist warned me to not go off of these cold turkey. Said something like this could happen if it did.”

He bows his head in shame for the tears that well up in his eyes once again. God, he’s a mess.

“Not a mess.” Eddie states. Shit. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to get some real rest in a real bed and then in the morning, we’ll go to the pharmacy and get a refill of your meds.”

“What if I have to start all over again, Eddie? It took me nearly a month to stop having panic attacks because of how anxious they made me at first. I can’t do this again, I can’t.”

The grip on Buck’s hand tightened just the slightest and brought him back from another spiral.

“Then we’ll deal with it together. I told you, I’ve got your back. It’s going to be okay.”

And all Buck can do is trust that it would be okay.

Eddie has his back. Bobby is okay.

He will be okay.

#evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #911 on abc #fanfiction #my fics #my writing #first fic i have finished in 2 years #be nice #emotional hurt/comfort

[ci-wi]

we got far more than our share

#buddy daddies #buddy daddies anime #kazuki kurusu #rei suwa #fan art #cr:iwi #episode 10 really says hurt/no comfort huh #give kazuki a hug look at that poor man #kazurei

[bigfootsmom]

reaching in the dark by bigfootsmom

explicit • 4.8k • buddie

Inspired by @nymika-arts beautiful art

He can still feel his nightmare clinging to him, waiting for him to close his eyes so he can relive the sickening drop of his stomach — dread crawling up his throat and exploding from behind his teeth in the shape of Buck’s name. He still remembers the way his throat had burned after he threw up everything in his stomach and then some in the hospital bathroom. But the taste of Buck’s name had still lingered on his lips.

With scars like theirs, nightmares are no surprise.

read on ao3

#911 fic #911 #buddie #buddie fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #emotional hurt/comfort #molly writes #complete

[blurredbuddie]

Eddie: I love you-

Buck: *backs away*

Eddie: Am I too late?

Buck: Yes. 

#what if this happened in s7 #i will never forgive myself #sorry i was listening to my sad playlist and thought of this #im making myself cry #s7 please dont do this #buddie #hurt/no comfort #buddie 911 #911 incorrect quotes #evan buckley #911 #buddie911 #buck x eddie #but not really #im heartbroken just because of this #eddie diaz #buck and eddie #911 on fox #911 abc #911 on abc #911 on abc pls hurry up im losing patience