#but still takes what bobby says to heart because deep down he knows that he doesn't want to be his father

[starrvsn]

` ִ ꔫ ۫ ⊹ D.HUME ࣪ ˖ VICTORY BLISS.

﹙ MOVIE/FANDOM ⠆THE BOYS IN THE BOAT ﹚

PAIRING ⠆don hume x fem!reader.

CATEGORIES ⠆fluff!, lil bit of angst- drama for no reason.. for the plot HAHA, shy!don, slight ooc with the boys, don going through it, the reader is lovely i swear, the guys being the #1 supporters of don, bobby being his #1 protector, sassy!bobby, bobby’s kinda mean in this but he means well i swear!

WORD COUNT ⠆4,613 (fun!)

star left a message! this was actually my first draft i had of don and i finally came around to finishing it! this came out much longer than i expected but i hope you enjoy~!

𝟒𝟏𝟏. don finally garners the courage to ask out the girl he's had his eyes on since the beginning of the semester.

"don! hey! so how you gon' celebrate?" bobby calls, jogging up next to him. the faint sounds of the other guys’ voices behind them, they had just come back from germany and all still high from the victory bliss. don had just gotten over a horrible fever, thanks to the guys he didn't think he'd be able to row– and be there when winning gold. now that it's over, they want to celebrate as much as they can, take advantage of a golden opportunity.

"er, not sure— sleep it off maybe." don utters, stuffing his hands in his pockets as they walk further onto campus— towards their dorms, completely exhausted from traveling. the fact that they won olympic gold hadn't hit him yet and with their victory banquet in a few days time, maybe it would hit him then. the shorter man scoffs jumping in front of the taller, stopping him abruptly in his tracks.

"oh come on don, you gotta celebrate! you know soon enough girls are gonna be at your feet." bobby attests, arms flailing about in attempt to prove his point. don finds it almost comedic at how desperately bobby is trying to get through him, trying to hold back his laugh— he lets out "so?"

bobby squints his eyes looking a don incredulously "so? this time right now is your best shot— its now or never."

don could hardly speak to anyone, let alone girls— it became what he was known for. he didn't hate it because it was true, there was no room to deny it— it was just easier to manage, less to worry about but he could see where bobby was getting at, finally the narrative of seizing the moment getting through his thick skull after the many attempts of the team encouraging him to talk to girls more, so maybe this was it.

“i-i’ll think about it.” don nods, almost unsure of himself, he wasn't sure if he was saying it to satisfy his friend or to give himself some sort of encouragement. digging his hands deeper into his pants pockets. bobby’s face softens and he gives the taller male an optimistic smile, patting him encouragingly on his arm before joining the rest of the group. don heaves a sigh before continuing — his thoughts weigh his options for the rest of his walk to the dorms.

don mulls over what do over the course of a few days, with their banquet in a few days he knew had to do something soon. he had many ideas but one just kept coming back to him so he is putting all his chips in on this, hoping he doesn’t crash and burn.

don was nervous, he tossed and turned in bed just thinking about this. his heart beating loudly in his ears and almost out of his chest— he was sure people in the common room could hear it. he looks down at his feet, counting his steps as he approaches your table—trying not vomit from how on edge he was feeling. the words from bobby echoing in his head "this time is your best shot—its now or never."

taking a deep breath, he takes his gaze from his shoes to you. words couldn't describe how you looked, the sunlight peering through the window reflecting beautifully on your features making you look ethereal. he was enamored.

you were in the same physics lecture, you always sat two rows in front of him. he would catch himself drifting his eyes to the back of you head when the lecture got boring or when you turned to talk to your classmate, showing him your pretty side profile. he knew he was infatuated when you were paired during a lab and while don barely spoke– not even introducing himself. you were polite, nice and smart, a perfect trifecta. you always knew what to say and was so patient with him when you had asked him something and he didn’t respond right away. most times when he wouldn’t respond, people would get impatient or just brush him off; ignoring him completely. it was nice for someone to treat him with respect besides the guys on crew for a change.

breaking from his reverie, he realizes he’s stood before your table longer than he initially wanted to and yet you still haven’t noticed, to absorbed in your studies. don almost feels bad for interrupting and the thought of him just walking away and trying again some other day— or never crosses his mind but before he can even make up his mind, you finally notice.

"don! hi!" a soft smile peering at your lips as you stop writing, looking up at him. don's eyebrows jump in surprise, taken aback that you know him. a lump forms in his throat unsure what to say, awkwardly avoiding your gaze.

"yo-you know me?" letting his thoughts continue the conversation. he watches as you laugh- shaking your head for a moment before collecting yourself.

"it's hard to not know the stroke that won us a gold medal." you respond, voice laced with praise.

dons hand shoots up to the nape of his neck, flustered. "well i wouldn't say it was just me, it was all of us." he immediately denies, a faint blush glowing on his cheeks.

“i must give credit where it’s do, i mean you guys must’ve been amazing! well from what i heard on the radio at least.” you boast. his heart swells with pride hearing you sound so elated with how well they did— how well he did, in berlin. he felt his heart swell as you told him. his mouth runs dry as he tries to find the right words to continue the conversation and he kind of kicks himself for letting silence fall between the two of you. you speak up insisting you join him at your table, closing your books and putting them aside. he sits across from you, taking in your features that he thought about from time to time when he was away. you scoot you chair further in, knocking your foot against his, a shock coursing through him– no has ever made him feel this way.

“tell me about berlin, i heard you were feeling under the weather over there.” you start, quirking your head in curiosity awaiting his response. clearing his throat, don gathers his words.

“uh— yeah, it was an otherworldly experience. i never been out of country, out of state even but it was definitely different. an experience i would never forget” you can see his face brighten from talking about it, he speaks so descriptively about his time there it feel like you were there with him. “i was sick with some kind of bug. it was a grueling few days but was worth it after winning. it was amazing! i would do it all again if i had to.” you offhandedly realize that this was probably the most you’ve ever heard him speak and you find him so endearing as he spoke, he was so expressive when he was talking about something he was so passionate about and you loved it. you watch as he goes on about the olympics and the number of athletes he saw compete, you head rests on your hand watching him with attentive eyes letting him continue with his ventures.

minutes pass from dons tales and he realizes that he got lost in speaking about the olympics and droned on and on about it , he felt selfish for taking such time to talk about the most trivial of things— or so he thought.

“'m so sorry, i must’ve talked your ear off.” don cuts in the middle of a story he was telling, as he realized what he was doing. feeling guilty as he casts his eyes to his hands, falling quiet again. what he doesn't see is the small frown that casts on your face, your heart pangs at the thought of him thinking that what he was talking about wasn’t important, looking so dejected. a moment passes as he fiddles with his hands then he sees your hand coming into view clasping his. he raised his gaze and he sees you looking at him with a comforting smile smile.

“it’s okay, i like hearing your voice. i could listen to you talk all day” the compliment was simple but made his heart skip a beat. it’s now or never don gulps, his calloused hand encasing yours, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, you can tell he has something on his mind and he could take all the time in the world to say it and you would wait. “would you want to come to the victory banquet with me? it's in a few days.” his voice is timid and small, if the room was any louder you wouldn’t be able to hear what he said.

you face brightens at his proposal, accepting without a moment passing “i would love to.”

the next few days passes with a blur as don and the rest of the team were whisked away to do interviews and photoshoots on their ground breaking win. it all happened so fast and before they knew it; it was already the night of the banquet.

you had promised don you’d meet outside of your dormitory so you could walk together to the hall. he gets there a bit earlier than you were promised to meet, he was nervous— maybe that being the reason he didn't want to be late and have you waiting outside for him. a cool summer breeze passing through as he leans against the brick ledge accenting the dorm building, soon moments turn into minutes and it crosses don's mind that you might have stood him up.

the thought makes him feel hopeless, pulling up his sleeve to reveal his art deco watch- a gift from coach ulbrickson, it was 6:40. 10 minutes had passed since your agreed meeting time. soon 10 turns into 20, he wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt but you made him feel like a fool— embarrassed that he stood outside of the girls dormitory looking like some kind of perv. he rubs the back of his neck in frustration as he pushes himself off the brick wall, ready to leave. a part of him wants to wait— the part of him that hopes you lost track of time and were rushing out to him but to no avail. even in the moment more he waits, he ends up leaving with his heart heavy and pride wounded.

he thought you weren't like the rest. he was so sure you were different from the people who gave him odd looks or comments on how quiet he was. it makes him wonder if you even meant anything in the library that day, weighing heavy on his mind as he walks to the banquet, alone and dejected.

don was acting quieter than usual.

which, for anyone who wasn't close with don wouldn't have noticed but the guys on crew— who he spent almost everyday with, noticed. it was abundantly clear as they sat around the table at the banquet enjoying their dinner. usually don would laugh along with the jokes being made, react to when someone was telling a story— it was a small tells that he was having a good time but there was none of that. he sat in his seat— eyes casted down on his plate, pushing around his peas. there was something obviously on his mind; the guys could tell. they pass knowing glances around each other, unanimously decided they just had to know what was wrong.

"hey don, you okay?" joe speaks up besides don. he has a blank stare down his plate, lost in his thoughts not paying attention to the current conversation at hand. "don?" joe calls again, nudging his arm against don's, snapping him from his reverie. looking over at joe like a deer caught in headlights.

"i said are you okay?" joe repeats himself, his mates looking at him with concerning gazes awaiting his answer.

"hm, yeah— 'm fine." don lamented, sounding like he was more trying to convince himself rather than his friends. they had wondered where he was before the banquet started and didn't see him until the dinner. bobby raises his worry for don, the other boys agreeing. don continues to deny but they weren't going to let it go. he should be enjoying winning gold at the olympics, something never done before in UW history— they didn't want whatever was on his mind to hinder that.

"come on don, you can trust us— whatever it is we'll understand, even give you advice if you need." roger speaks up this time, his voice laced with comfort. as much as the guys teased and joked, they truly cared about each other— after all the hardships they went through together, they stuck close. the quieter male was heavy with emotion and with a lot of his mind. he confines in them, a reluctant sigh passing through him as he tells them— he wonders what went through your head the day he spoke to you and the days leading up to tonight. he was excited to see you again, talk to you, get to know you even better but it was all thrown out the window when you flaked on him. don tries to not miss any details and by the end of his explanation, the boys were feeling a mix of emotions. some felt bad that don went through all that— going out of his element to ask out a girl he was interested in and other were upset that you'd have the balls to stand up someone with the purest intentions. it's hard to dislike someone who you've never met but after hearing what was weighing heavy on don's mind, bobby had made up his mind that he didn't like you. though he would never tell don but if he were to ever come across you, he'd be sure to give you a piece of his mind.

don doesn't see you as the days pass.

he continued to wonder how you were, what you could be going through. he couldn't bare the thought of something bad happening to you and as much as the guys tried to steer him away; his mind always came back to you. practice helps him take his mind of you for a few hours, he knew better than to slip up during their practices— their tireless efforts to get better never ceasing even after their win.

it was around evening time when practice ends. they’re tired; mentally and physically— it’s been a rough week in general. the last thing don expects is you standing at the entrance of the shell house, rocking on your heels. don stops dead in his tracks, his jaw slacks and heart drops. he doesn't notice bobby almost bumping into his whilst walking closely to catch up to him.

huffing, bobby was about to ask him what was the matter when he follows the line of sight of his friend, before either two of them could say anything— bobby is trudging towards you, don just letting him go, still shocked.

"are you y/n?" a man with cloudy blue eyes glares at you, he stands square; inches away from you. his presence intimidates you— you glower under his gaze unable to stand your ground. you can barely speak up against him.

"y-yes, is don around?" your eyes wander behind him and you see don standing a few feet back. you try to move around the man in front of you but he stops you.

"who the hell do you think you are huh?" he accuses, leaving no room for you to respond as he begins again "you charmed don and lead him on— you made him get his hopes up! you know i'm the one that encouraged him to take advantage of this *pure winners bliss* but you just had to come around and screw it up huh? made his biggest fear come true and for what—? to make don the laughing stock for your friends? he had the best intentions you know, all he wanted was for you to give him a chance and it was just flushed down the drain!” the man was fuming, unable to keep his voice level as his emotions got the best of him. soon the guys who were still getting dressed peeked out to see what all the commotion was about. a heavy silence falls between the two of you, tensions high. you feel small in front of him as he berated you about what happened with don. your eyes cast down, wringing your fingers as you tried to compose yourself.

don heard everything, watched as bobby yelled at you for everyone to hear— he should've stopped him, stopped him from even approaching you in the first place but he couldn't, he froze in his spot the second he saw you, he felt *awful*— what happened a few days ago on the back burner. it wasn't until it was over don suddenly gained feeling in his legs again. he hadn't felt this nervous since their race in the olympics. as he nears the two of you he hears you speak up. voice small and meek.

"i deserved that."

their coxswain huffs– brows furrowed “you know what you don’t deserve? his forgiveness because—“

“that’s enough bobby.” don rests his hand on his friends shoulder, motioning for him to go. bobby was hesitant but reluctantly, he leaves but not before giving you another glare. that leaves you with don, the resting frown on his face as he looks at you– you avoid his eyes, sheepish and feeling embarrassed for what happened. you didn't even know how to begin, you weren't sure if he would even listen to you, give you the time of day but you wouldn't know unless you tried.

“don i–“

“let’s take a walk hm?” he starts past you before you have a chance to reply, following after him as he walks down the port. there’s knots piling in his stomach as he walked ahead, his fists balled so tight in his pockets they began to feel numb, he had no idea how to go about this. he wasn’t even sure if he was ready to forgive you— but after seeing you get yelled at and berated by bobby, something inside him felt off. he couldn’t stay mad at you forever, the least he could do is hear you out.

the water splashing against the wooden beams of the deck fills the silence as don stops at the end, his back facing you. hands stuffed in his pockets and heart heavy. he didn’t say anything as moments pass so you take it as your cue to speak.

“don… i know i have no place in apologizing but i’m sorry and i understand if you never want to talk to me or forgive me for what i did” you pause for moment, watching his back– waiting for him to say something but you’re met with silence so you continue.

“i-i really wanted to go with you, i did! i was looking forward to it all week… i had a dressed picked out and everything! but when the day came—" you fault for a moment, your hands fiddling with your sleeves. eyes cast down "m-my parents called and my sister got into an accident… i went home for a couple of days and the whole time i was there; i just felt horrible for leaving you, and knowing how much i hurt you. i would make it up to you any way i can if you let me…”

the silence was deafening, you try your best from losing composure and crying on the spot. overcome with emotion— the silence was killing you as you waited for don to say something, anything— he could tell you he didn’t want to see you ever again and that would be enough for you.

"is your sister alright?" you let out a sound of surprise when he asked, doe eyes looking at him. he’s turned around now– the sun setting a glow that illuminates against his figure. you eyes focus on his face, nose slightly red from the cold.

"yes, she's perfectly fine now." you nod, wringing your hands. tears threatening to spill as you look at him.

don turns to look at you with a mix of emotions, his eyes filled with hurt and longing. you can see the conflict in his expression as he tries to process what you've said. after a moment of silence, he takes a step closer to you, closing the distance between you.

“you really hurt me you know.” he utters, voice fragile.

“yes and i would do anything to remedy that—” you’re desperate for his forgiveness, your voice sounding aspirated as you tell him. you’d go to the ends of the earth just for him to forgive you.

“and yet no matter how much i felt hurt by you, i couldn’t get you out of my mind.” he confesses, his voice soft and vulnerable. "i was angry and disappointed, but deep down, i still cared about you."

tears well up in your eyes as you listen to his words. the weight of the misunderstandings and missed opportunities of that day feels heavy on your shoulders. you reach out and gently take don's hands in yours, holding them tightly.

"i'm so sorry, don," you whisper, your voice filled with remorse. "i never meant to hurt you, i should’ve told you somehow… i’ve never regretted anything more in my life.”

don's grip on your hands tightens as the other dabs at the tears that fallen on your cheeks, his gaze never leaving yours.“i’ve never felt this way about anyone y/n, i hope you realize. you plague my mind day and night, these past few days where i was supposed to be upset with you; i was worrying if something bad happened, how you were feeling, what you were thinking.” he confesses, sorrow and regret lacing his voice “i thought what happened that day would make me loathe and resent you for hurting me… but i could never hate you, i can’t let what happened define our relationship.”

you look up at him with a glimmer of hope. you watch as he takes a deep breath, standing ever so closely.

“i want us to start again.” dons eyes shine a soft amber as he looks down at you, the sun encasing his features with a soft glow. illuminating the freckles that litter his face; imitating a galaxy of stars. he’s a dream come true.

a smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you feel a sense of relief wash over you. his expression softens as he sees the smile he’s come to adore so much, the tension that had been building between you starts to dissipate, replaced by a sense of hope and comfort.

“i promise, i will never hurt you like that ever again.” you say, your voice filled with earnest. don feels as if hes back in the common room with you, talking to you for the first time. he’s lovestruck and there was nothing that could happen that would get rid of it. he’s sure you’ll never do anything to break his trust again, your devotion now so clear to him.

“i know.” a crooked grin plastered on his lips, his arms wrapping around you in a soft but tight embrace. as if he were to let go you’d be gone again. he felt content, all the stresses from the week leaving him as he’s in your arms. a feeling he will never tire of.

“so how should we properly start again?” you breathed, your face incredibly close to dons. a soft flush crawling on your neck as you flicker from his lips to his eyes, him doing the same. it feels as if time stops as you share this moment together, drawing closer until your lips touch. the kiss is slow and tender— moving slowly as he relished on the way your lips feel on his. they’re soft and plush, fitting perfectly against his, like a breath of fresh air. he thought about what it would feel like to kiss you but nothing could compare his thoughts to the real thing. it was just you and him. his his hands rest against on your hips pulling you flush against him, your arms around his neck as he slightly dips you back. passion growing ever so slowly as he continues to kiss you, his kisses becoming more heated, the addictive feeling of your lips on his. he couldn’t get enough of you.

you break away from him reluctantly, mirrored heavy breaths as you look at each other with affectionate gazes. he clears his throat, composing himself. he pushes your hips back to create space between you. trying to fight the nerving urge to kiss you again as he looked at your rose tinted lips.

“i propose we properly take advantage of this winners bliss everyone keeps talking about.” a giggle escapes you as you embrace him again, this time he twirls you, in your own little world—happy with a profound adoration for each other. the sun setting behind you, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink.

the fact they won gold really hitting him now, considering he had a win of his own.

bonus.

“bobby! what could i do for you?” your brows jump in surprise as you look up from the book you’re reading, you had thought it was don since the spot you were in wasn’t as well known, the last person you expected to see was bobby.

“i just wanted to apologize about what happened… a week ago.” he trails off, looking sheepish in front of you. a stark contrast to the man that defended his friend so willingly against you.

“did don send you here?” you tease, a playful smile on your lips. bobby huffs, denying immediately. no, don did not send him to apologize. he came on his own accord, after what happened that evening. don was lovesick the moment he entered the dorms and bobby felt terrible for what he had did, even if he thought you deserved it at the time. he knows now that you make his friend happy and that’s all he cared about.

“don’t worry bobby, i forgive you. i needed that berating, i deserved it. you’re a really good friend to don you know.” you state matter-a-factly. looking at him with appreciation, bobby’s chest puffs at your praise. he crosses his arms over his chest, proud.

“oh i know, i was the one who encouraged him to go for it remember?” you laugh, nodding.

you guess you have bobby to thank for this, you'd have to mention this to don later... speaking of you'd have to tell you're friends about your new lover... speaking of friends:

“hey you’re not seeing anyone by chance?” you suddenly ask, bobby falters—taken aback from your question.

“uh, no. why?” he responded, his head quirking in curiosity from the sudden and a bit uncalled for question.

“no reason, i just feel like a friend of mine would really like you.” you shrug, returning to your book. bobby takes the book from your hands, resting it on the table.

he takes a seat across from you, his hands laced together. as if in a business meeting “say no more, what’s her name?”

he’s all in.

(this is how you and bobby became bffs btw.)

stars ending-ment! i honestly love how this came out and omg is this a segway to a bobby fic????? who knows... it could be hehe. (lmk if you guys would want that lol)

ownership of starrvsn. please do not repost, modify or translate.

#(⁠´⁠ー⁠｀⁠) the boys in the boat #don hume #the boys in the boat #the boys in the boat imagines #don hume imagines #don hume x reader #fanfiction #x reader #don hume fanfiction #jack mulhern #the boys in the boat fanfiction

[chronicowboy]

The first time Chris asks to see Buck, Eddie doesn't hesitate before saying no. The second, third, fourth, fifth times follow immediately after, Christopher's fury growing with each denial. But Eddie doesn't budge. He'll accept the abuses hurled at him, accept the weak punches Chris throws at his chest, accept the I HATE YOU! and slammed bedroom door.

Its nothing he doesn't deserve.

The sixth time Christopher asks, teary-eyed and pleading, Eddie wavers and says not yet. Chris huffs, but he grabs onto that little bit of hope like a lifeline. Eddie doesn't have the heart to tell him that hope is useless.

See, thing is, he knows Christopher is growing up. He knows his son is old enough to handle seeing Buck in a hospital bed - or, well, maybe not handle it, but he knows he's old enough to decide when he's ready to see Buck himself. But Eddie isn't ready.

Eddie wasn't ready when he tried to haul Buck back up onto the ladder, Eddie wasn't ready when he had to relinquish Buck's life to the others with no idea what was happening, Eddie wasn't ready to see Chimney straddling Buck's torso and begging Buck to wake up, Eddie wasn't ready to watch the doctors roll a still unresponsive Buck through the glass doors, Eddie wasn't ready to see Buck cold and still with a tube down his throat.

Christopher's always been braver than him.

But, selfishly, Eddie doesn't think he could handle seeing Chris beg Buck to wake up or say-

No. Eddie knows he couldn't handle it.

And, fuck, maybe its the wrong choice to keep Chris from getting to say goodbye to another parent. Its probably, definitely the wrong choice. But Eddie can't- He just can't.

He can't do this. He can't say goodbye.

Not to Buck.

Its when an Uber pulls up to the house and he catches Christopher trying to sneak out the front door that he realises he couldn't keep them apart anymore than he could have stopped that lightning from hitting Buck.

(You could have stopped it. You could have gone up in his place. You could have been faster. You could have been the one doing CPR. You could have-)

Eddie just grabs his keys and ushers Chris towards the Jeep - a fucking jeep, really? what is it? spit on Eddie day? - waiting for them outside.

He doesn't expect Chris to celebrate, but he also doesn't expect the stony silence that suffocates them in the back of the car. When Chris sniffles, Eddie grabs his hand and lets his own tears roll down his cheeks.

He should say something, but there aren't any words for this. This much he knows.

There weren't any last time either.

Eddie doesn't really register the journey from the parking lot up to Buck's room in the ICU. Not until Christopher suddenly goes very, very still and grabs his hand.

There's not a single part of Eddie that hasn't been shattered since he pushed himself up onto shaky arms and saw Buck hanging from the ladder, still, too still, but right now its the first time he really feels like he's going to fall apart.

"He's in there?" Chris asks, voice tiny and small and so, so scared.

"Yeah, buddy," Eddie croaks, "he's in there. But you don't have to go -"

"Yes. I do." Christopher takes a deep breath and marches towards the door like he's about to walk onto a stage.

Eddie follows. After a moment.

Chris has always been braver than him.

(He hasn't been in Buck's room once. Had only looked at him from beyond the window to his room for a few moments before using Christopher as an excuse to flee. Because he's a coward.)

Eddie doesn't know why he expects Buck's room to be empty. His family is at its biggest right now, even if Eddie remains quietly suspicious of Margaret and Phillip's sudden redemption. And he knows no one would ever let him be alone for more than a bathroom break or a coffee run.

Eddie doesn't know why he's so surprised to see Hen offering Chris her chair by Buck's bedside. She's known Buck the longest - along with Bobby and Chim of course, but between Bobby's superiority and Chimney's rebar, they'd gotten closest the fastest. He doesn't know why he expected Hen to still be at home with her wife and kid.

(Maybe because he'd been desperately jealous that she had someone to shoulder the weight with her.)

The grief-stricken, knowing look Hen shoots him is enough to have his chest tightening up worse than the suit shop.

And then, Christopher reaches for Buck's hand, looking so goddamn young but so fucking determined, and Eddie thinks it'd be fucking typical of him to have a heart attack three days after Buck's heart stops.

"I-I'm sorry, I c-can't." He glances at Hen in what he hopes she understands is a plea to look out for Christopher before fleeing from the room.

His legs don't take him far. His legs were made to get him up that fucking ladder to Buck. His legs weren't made to take him away from him. So, he collapses back against the wall under the window and sinks to the floor just as the first sob racks his body.

Its a painful thing. Like its torn from the very depths of him. Like someone has used the Jaws to pry his chest open and is ripping chunks of his organs out of him.

Its a desperate thing. A prayer and a plea to a universe he doesn't believe in.

Its a quiet thing, however. Because Eddie mastered that art so well that it is deeply ingrained in him.

Its a quiet thing which is why he can still hear Christopher's voice through the thin hospital walls.

"Buck, you promised me-" Christopher's words break, and Eddie breaks with them, pressing his fists into his eyes as hard as he can. "You promised you weren't going anywhere, and you never break your promises."

Eddie doesn't remember this promise. He remembers a hundred pinkie promises between his son and his- His Buck. But he doesn't remember this one. He wonders if it was before or after the-

It was before. Eddie knows Buck well enough to know it was before.

"Wake up, Buck. Please, I-"

Eddie's a coward. He's a coward, that's why he can't get up from the floor. He's a goddamn fucking coward.

"I want my dad," Chris wails, and Eddie doesn't know how he manages it - thinks briefly of stories about mothers lifting cars off their babies - but the next thing he knows he's watching Christopher bury his face in Buck's shoulder.

The left one, not the one with the Lichtenburg figures, the one near his heart.

Eddie doesn't need to look at Hen's tear-streaked face to know that Christopher wasn't asking for him.

#sami rambles #i don't know what this is - pain ? depression ? a coping mechanism for the pain and depression ? #i'm not sure #but it sure is something :D ! #911 spoilers #911 show #911 fox #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #buck x eddie #911 spec #911 spec fic #911 speculation #buck and christopher #christopher diaz #buckley diaz family #buckley diaz family fic #buddie fic #buck and christopher fic #long post

[neewtmas]

ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀᴜɴᴛɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴀʙʙᴇʏ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ // ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴠɪɪ

pairing: george karim x fem!reader

wordcount: 3.6k

summary: a case that takes longer than expected, an unrequited crush, and the hardest decision you ever had to make

a/n: the angst has finally started hehe

masterlist series masterlist

taglist: @maraschinomerry @sstrawberriel @poisonquinzell @holymotherfxrkingshirtballs @thl3c @oblivious-idiot @bobbys-not-that-small @myownpainintheass @taygrls @marinalor @y0urm0m12 @fearlessmoony @quack-quack-snacks @ahead-fullofdreams @aphroqite ((if you wanna be added or removed, just tell me)

For a moment, it felt like the world itself had stopped spinning. You were frozen in place, fingers hovering over the bag's zipper unmoving.

Your heart was racing almost as quickly as your thoughts as you stared down at your now trembling hands, trying to process what you had just heard.

"W- what?"

George didn't say anything, and with your heart beating out of your chest you willed your muscles to move, to turn around, expecting him to be looking at you.

But he wasn't looking at you. Instead, he had his eyes and the light of his flashlight fixed on a piece of paper.

"I love you more than you could ever know", he repeated, slowly lowering the paper and raising his head to look at you. His gaze was so intense it sent shivers down your spine.

"Love letters, (name)."

He came around from behind the desk with quick steps, pointing excitedly at the paper that had neat handwriting on one side.

"Do you know what means?"

You just stared up at him, unable to get a single word out or even just shake your head.

But he ignored you anyway.

"Lockwood! You gotta see this!"

As soon as he was out of the room, you collapsed on the floor. The hilt of your rapier, that was fastened to your belt, was pressing painfully into your stomach, but you ignored it. Over the ringing in your ears, you could hear George and Lockwood talking animatedly in the other room, but you ignored it.

Instead, you forced yourself to take one deep, slow breath after the other. Your chest felt so tight it might as well was the only thing that kept your heart from splitting into a million tiny pieces. Your vision was blurry, and you blinked away the tears frantically, though one still managed to escape and made its way down your cheek to your trembling lips.

Pull yourself together.

You bit the inside of your cheek so hard it almost drew blood and the searing pain was enough to snap you out of it.

Just as you had managed to get up, your knees feeling weak for all the wrong reasons, Lucy came in. Her brows furrowed immediately upon seeing you and she rushed over, her hand on your elbow as if she wanted to steady you.

"Are you okay, (name)? You look a little pale", she asked gently.

At that moment, you wanted nothing more than to just collapse in her arms and cry, but instead, you straightened your back and took a deep breath. You just nodded because you didn't trust your voice yet and together, you made your way over to the other room.

Lockwood and George stood at the desk, leaning over the letter, Lockwood holding the flashlight while George was running his finger over the page, reading intently.

You went to stand next to Lockwood.

"You good, (name)?", he asked after he glanced at you and you wondered just how much of the pain you were feeling was showing on your face.

"There is some stuff in here that I'm not going to repeat", George said finally and took a step back from the desk. "But it seems like the butler… well, let's say he isn't just a butler to her."

Lockwood crossed his arms.

"I think I know who the ghost is we're dealing with here."

Lucy looked surprised. "How did you get that from this letter?"

"Remember when I told you Lord Blackwood himself called me a few days ago?", he began. "Well, he didn't. I've been trying to figure out what it was that bothered me so much about the few words the butler said to us earlier, and why he hadn't been talking to us at all before that."

Lockwood ran his fingers through his hair, making it stand up in all different directions. Hedgehog, was all you could think of for a second.

In the dim glow of the flashlights, the darkness around his eyes seemed deeper than usual.

"You mean…" Lucy trailed off.

"He was the one who called me, yes."

"They killed him", George said slowly. He had picked the letter up again, holding it close to his face.

"(name), go check if you can find more letters", Lockwood said. "Ideally we find one where they admit to it. That will make dealing with DEPRAC much less of a hassle later."

You didn't find it in yourself to protest, so you made your way back to the other desk. The drawer was still pulled open, and you kneeled down next to it for better access. There was a neat stack of letters, it seemed like George had just picked up the one at the top. You put your flashlight aside to get them all out of the drawer, when the light flickered, then went out.

You cursed under your breath and felt around for the flashlight on the plush carpet when suddenly a loud thud sounded behind you. You startled, knocking your knee hard against the edge of the drawer which had a small yelp of pain slip past your lips.

"Is everything alright, (name)?" That was Lucy.

Just at that moment, your fingers found the cool metal of the flashlight and closed around it to pick it up. You aimed the light behind you, where a thick book was lying on the floor. It looked completely unassuming, but you knew better.

"Just a book that fell down", you called back, trying to keep your voice sounding calm and pleasant. "I'm coming back now."

You grabbed a handful of letters and stood up slowly, trying to level your breathing.

Do not panic.

You didn't dare turn your back to the bookcase so you were walking backwards towards the door. You were in the middle of the room, only a few steps away from - relative - safety, when you noticed a second book inching forward gradually as if an invisible hand was pulling it off the shelf.

You watched in horror as it tipped over the edge and fell, almost in slow motion. But before it could hit the floor, you whipped around and sprinted to the door.

There was no way for you to slow down as it slammed shut with a deafening bang, so you collided full force with the wood.

You felt dizzy for a few moments as you stumbled back disoriented.

On the other side of the door was a rush of voices and footsteps.

"(name)! (name), are you okay?!" George was violently shaking the door handle, it even sounded like he was throwing himself against the door, but it wouldn't budge.

"(name), get into the iron circle immediately!" Lockwood's voice was stern, but you could hear the worry behind his words.

You bent down to pick up the flashlight you had dropped, and your vision went black for a second.

It was when you turned around that you realised you never got as far as even getting the chains out of the bag.

"I'll have to make one first", you called over your shoulder.

George was now banging against the door. "Why is there no circle? You were supposed to make one!"

You felt tears prickling in your eyes at his accusing tone. With blurry vision you ripped the zipper of the bag open and pulled the chains out, trying to ignore how several other books fell out of the shelves behind you.

"(name), answer me! Are you in the circle?!" George was shouting now, and you were crying. The chains slid through your hands, banging on the floorboards, and you dropped to your knees to try and form a circle with them.

"(name)!"

"What?!" you yelled back, tears flowing freely as you stood up inside the iron circle, drawing your rapier with a shaky hand. This was all too much.

"Are you in the circle?!"

You laughed bitterly. His concern just made you angry now.

"I wouldn't have to be if you had just secured the door, like you were supposed to do!"

"Stop arguing, it's just gonna feed it of your anger!" This was Lucy.

You closed your eyes, trying to calm the storm that was raging inside you. You felt like you were submerged under water, your emotions like big waves and strong currents throwing you around like a puppet. If you wanted to get out of here alive, you need to get a grip on yourself.

"How am I supposed to stay calm when she is in there alone!?" George was pounding against the door so hard you thought it might fly off its hinges at any moment.

"George, stop it! You're just hurting yourself!" Lucy sounded exasperated and then lowered her voice to say something to him that you couldn't make out through the door.

Your head was pounding, the static noise that until now had just been like a mildly annoying fly in the corner of the room had increased in volume. When you went to push a strand of hair off your face, you noticed your fingertips came back red. Shit. You felt over your forehead and temple and winced at the sharp pain as your fingers brushed over a cut above your eyebrow. Your run-in with the door hadn't left you entirely unscathed, it seemed.

"(name), do you have the letters with you? Maybe you'll find something about what might be the source in there." You could tell that Lucy tried her best to stay calm, and you had never been more thankful to have her.

You sat back down, your rapier next to you, and with trembling hands, you ripped open the first letter. Luckily the handwriting was legible even in the dim light, but in your haste to read you stumbled over the words, sometimes skipping whole sentences and paragraphs. You briefly wondered why the letters were here, in this office. It couldn't be Blackwood's office then.

The pile of unread letters in front of you was shrinking as you were making your way through them, even though the freezing cold air had made your fingers so stiff you could barely move them anymore.

So far, you had found nothing. It was just pages over pages full of love confessions that frankly, made you sick to your stomach. There was nothing you wanted to think less about at that moment.

Staying inside the small iron circle you had made for yourself had kept you safe so far, though it was hard to block out the sounds of falling books, the rattling of pens in drawers and the sinister creaking of the heavy desk as if it might lift off the ground and smash you to death any second.

You got startled by a thick book that flew off the desk, skidding over the floor towards you and coming to a halt in front of you.

The surprised sound you made prompted a commotion on the other side of the door.

"What is it? Are you okay?"

You didn't reply. Your eyes were fixed on the book, which should have stopped before it made contact with the iron. Instead, it had made a dent in the chain circle.

The panic that you had been able to control so far was threatening to take over your body. The atmosphere in the room had shifted while you had been busy reading the letters, and you hadn't noticed the fine slivers of ghost fog that had gathered in the corners of the room.

George called out your name, banging against the door and shaking the handle once more.

"I'm fine", you said, but it came out as nothing more than a whisper.

You forced yourself to go back to reading the letters, even though every fibre in your body told you to run. You cursed yourself for the hot panic that was searing through your veins, that was making it hard to focus. What kind of pathetic agent were you that you couldn't even keep your cool in a situation like this.

The first time you read it, you almost didn't register it. It was only after a few more lines that your brain caught up and you realised that this was it.

"They strangled him", you called out, your cracking voice sounding just like Lord Blackwood's might have in his last moments.

At your words, there was a gust of wind that pulled on your clothes and whirled up the letters you had carelessly thrown aside.

"Is there more?!" Lucy yelled through the door and you flattened the letter on the ground, trying to hold it in place despite the supernatural wind growing stronger, and more books falling off the shelves and sliding over the carpet and the floorboards, some of them reaching unnervingly close to your circle of chains.

The static noise was getting unbearable loud, filling your head and making it difficult to keep your eyes open when you just wanted to squeeze them shut and curl up in a ball.

"The source needs to be in there somewhere!", Lockwood shouted. The banging on the door had stopped. The beam of light from your flashlight cut through the darkness as you shone it around the room, desperate for any sort of hint of a source. But nothing was catching your eye until you turned around.

The wallpaper was glittering under the glow of the light, tiny ice crystals blooming on the rough surface, spreading further out.

"Lucy! The picture!", you cried, and you heard someone take off running. The wind roared, and you almost lost your footing, flailing your arm around in an attempt to hold onto something, but your hand grasped at nothing. Another blast of wind, and this time it was strong enough to blow the chains apart. You screamed.

And then, just like that, silence.

You stood in the dark, breathing heavily, feeling strangely empty as the static noise was still echoing in your head.

The door burst open, and as soon as arms wrapped around you from behind, it was like all strength left your body at once and your knees buckled.

"Are you okay?", Lockwood asked breathlessly, holding you up.

You nodded feebly, and he released you as soon as you found your footing again.

He raised his flashlight and grimaced. "That cut doesn't look good."

Just then, Lucy came rushing in. She hugged you tightly, gripping your shoulders after she stepped back.

"I'm so glad you're alive!"

You smiled weakly. You felt like a truck had run you over.

"Where is George?" The question slipped past your lips before you could stop yourself. As much as you were trying to fight it, it did sting a little that he didn't seem to care enough to come check on you. Part of you had even hoped he'd be the first through that door, hoped for his arms around you instead of Lockwood's.

Lucy grimaced. "He uhm… he's not been doing so well for the past few minutes. We think it might be the after-effects of the boneglass."

George was sitting slumped against one of the bookshelves, staring off into the distance with an empty expression. You fought the urge to kneel down next to him, instead you extended your hand.

He looked up at you, and for a few moments, you just stared at each other, before he slowly raised his arm. His hand settled in yours, and you were surprised by how cold it was.

You helped him stand, and time seemed to slow down as he stood close to you, studying your face.

"You are hurt." It wasn't a question, but it did pull you out of the trance you were in and made you take a step back. His hand slipped out of yours.

"It's not that bad. What is wrong with you?" That question wasn't entirely just about the state he was in, but he couldn't have known that.

He shrugged. "Boneglass. I was just feeling … dizzy."

"Hey lovebirds, get over here", Lockwood called from the desk, where he had gathered all the letters.

Never before had a comment from Lockwood felt so much like cruel mockery, and yet you could still feel yourself blushing. But you didn't want to see George's reaction to that or to Lockwood's stupid comment, so you made it a point to not look at him and went to stand next to Lucy.

A glance at the watch on your wrist told you that it was just after 2 am.

"I think I know what happened here", Lockwood said and pointed out a few paragraphs on the pages spread out in front of him.

"Blackwood's daughter has some sort of a secret affair with the butler and they needed Blackwood out of the way. What do you do with an unpleasant parent?" He looked around, but no one was saying anything.

His finger came down on one of the letters. "That's right, you kill them. Strangled in this case, it seems like. For whatever reason, they felt the need to write that down in excruciating detail."

"But why would they leave these letters here?" asked Lucy.

Lockwood shrugged. "I have no idea. I had already guessed that they moved something out of the way last night and that's why they held us off until tonight, but I have no idea what and why it wasn't these letters." He picked up one of the pages. "They strangled him, so there is no murder weapon. Would explain why the painting was the source."

You realised that in your panic to read all the letters to find a way out of the room you hadn't really taken anything in.

"And why are we here?"

Lockwood was picking up one letter after the other, scanning it quickly. At that moment, he was reminding you of George.

"They want to sell the manor and leave with the money. Can't sell a haunted house, so we're here to remedy that. Obviously, they can't tell us they are responsible for the haunting, so the butler called me, pretending to be Lord Blackwood and then they just tell us he's sick so we don't ask any questions."

He grinned at you brightly. "But we're Lockwood and Co, so of course we're asking questions. I say we gather our stuff, sneak outside, call DEPRAC, and give them these for a little light reading." He gathered up the letters and stuffed them into the inside pocket of his coat.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The rest of the night went by in a blur. After you stepped outside and took a few deep breaths of the crisp cold night air, you realised just how exhausted you were. Everything that had happened tonight had left you with aching limbs, racing thoughts and a deep sadness. You managed to push it all down while you were sitting and waiting for DEPRAC, while they were dealing with Genevieve and her murderous lover, while a medic patched up the cut over your eyebrow, even while you sat in one of the DEPRAC vans that took you and your equipment back to London.

It was only after they had dropped you off at 35 Portland Row, after you had turned down Lockwood's suggestion for all of you to drink a cup of tea before going to sleep, after you had changed into your pyjamas and had crawled under your covers, clutching them to your chest in the darkness of your room. Only after that the tears came, silently running down your cheeks as you replayed the scene over and over in your mind.

Having George say these words to you must have been the cruellest joke the universe ever played on you. It was a ten-second glimpse into the life you wished for yourself, a beautiful fantasy that had been shattered immediately after by none other than George himself. And he probably hadn't even noticed. He probably didn't think twice about it.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You spent the entire next day in your bed. You didn't even open your blinds, instead keeping the room dark and slipping in and out of sleep every few hours. You ignored Lucy and Lockwood knocking on your door, and when George knocked, you just pulled your blanket over your head and waited until you heard his footsteps on his way back down the stairs. You did get up to get the cup of tea and the pile of toasts he had left in front of your door though.

By the time you heard George and Lucy go to their rooms in the evening, you had made your decision. You wanted to cry just thinking about it - but deep down you knew it was the right decision for you. You couldn't keep going like this.

And so you wrapped yourself in your dressing gown and snuck down the stairs to the library, where Lockwood sat on the couch reading yesterday's paper.

You knocked tenderly on the half-open door to alert him of your presence and closed it behind you after you entered.

Lockwood glanced at you and smiled, but it was quickly replaced by a concerned frown as he noticed your expression. He folded the paper and set it aside, then motioned you to sit on the couch.

"Everything alright?", he asked gently.

You felt a lump in your throat as you sat down, clasping your hands in your lap and digging your nails into your palms, hoping to get through this without bursting into tears.

"I want to quit."

thank you for reading <3

#george karim x reader #george karim #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood & co x reader #george karim x you #lockwood and co x you #lockwood & co x you #lockwood and co #lockwood & co

[buckttommy]

WIP Wednesday!

Some time ago, someone sent me an ask about Mob Boss Bobby assuming custody over Buck because his father couldn't afford to pay him off. The idea has simmered ever since. I don't know if I'll ever finish it, but here is the beginning! I was tagged by Morgan @rewritetheending and @daffi-990 and now I'm tagging @rogerzsteven @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels @gayhoediaz @eddiebabygirldiaz

By the time Evan Buckley comes into his custody, Bobby Nash has sworn off having kids. It’s no good, not in his business. Kids are a vulnerability, a liability. Only thing to expect from having your heart walk around outside your chest is for someone to run off with it like it’s theirs. Or worse—break it. Having kids didn’t work out so well for him in the first time anyway, and just because he killed Jonah Greenway for setting the fire that torched his family doesn’t mean he’s inclined to do the whole “grief” thing again.

But still.

Still…

There’s something about this kid. Something about his big, blue eyes and snotty nose and baby soft cheeks that gives Bobby pause. He cries in the backseat of his dad’s old Volkswagen like he knows something’s wrong, even if he’s not sure what, and it breaks him a little. 

His dad, Philip, looks over his shoulder, jaw tight. “I don’t know what else to do with him,” he says.

“You only owe me fifty thousand.”

Only like that’s not an exorbitant amount to owe anybody. Still, the thought of Philip Buckley putting a price on his kid—it doesn’t sit right. But that’s exactly what’s happening.

Buckley shrugs. “I don’t know what else to do. He’s not—” he frowns. “He’s just a reminder of all the bad times anyway.”

Bobby doesn’t ask. He doesn’t care. 

Buckley takes his kid by the hand and helps him out of the car. He gives him a little shove until he’s standing next to Bobby, and then squats down to look him in the eye. 

“Alright now, Evan, this here is a—” Buckley glances up, disdain on his face as he searches for the words. He looks back down at his son— “this is a friend. You’re going to be staying with him for a while.”

Evan frowns. He’s an intelligent kid—Bobby can see the wheels turning in his head even though he can’t be older than six, his eyes darting between himself and his dad like if he’s at it long enough, he’ll figure out the calculations he’s just too young to understand. 

“How long?” 

“I don’t know,” Buckley snaps, impatient. “Christ. Just. I’ll be back soon.” 

Nothing about this situation sits right with him, but Buckley lying to his kid just serves to discomfit him even more. He’s speaking before he even realizes he’s going to.

“Don’t lie to him.” 

Both Evan and his father turn to look at him. They have the same mannerisms, the same narrow-eyed gaze when they want to say something, but hold their tongue at the last minute. Bobby dares Buckley to say shit to him, but he’s almost curious to know what Evan would have to say. He doesn’t get the chance to find out. Buckley swallows a little, probably remembering that Bobby could still call this whole thing off if he wanted to, and takes a deep breath.

“Alright,” he says after a moment. “Evan, you’ll be living with Mr. Nash for a while.”

“But what about Maddie? Is she coming?”

“Don’t ask questions. I’ll try to come back for you as soon as I can.” 

Another lie. At least this time, Bobby doesn’t call him on it. Buckley walks back to his car without a hug, without so much as a backwards glance, and Bobby can’t help but wonder how much he must hate his own goddamn kid to abandon him like this. He pulls off, broken headlights getting smaller and smaller the further he gets, and there’s a moment—just one moment—where Bobby swears Evan waits for him to come back. He looks around the dark, wet alley like he’s waiting for someone to pop out with streamers and a pinata but it never happens. It won’t ever happen.

Evan doesn’t cry when he realizes this, he screams at the top of his lungs. It’s a horrible sound. Would be horrible in broad daylight, but in the middle of the night, just sounds like Bobby is leading him to slaughter. He tries to run after the car, but his little legs are no match for Bobby’s long stride. He catches the kid with his fingers hooked around the back of his collar and doesn’t let go, even as he kicks and squirms and curses. Bobby has no idea who Maddie is, but he’s willing to bet she’s an older sister or cousin who taught him how to swear like a sailor. Evan calls him a stupid motherfucking bitch with all the rage and fury he can muster in his body and Bobby almost laughs. Almost, if not for the fact that the whole scene is just so damn tragic.

“Christ.” Chimney appears at his side, hands clapped over his ears. “He’s got a mouth on him.” 

“He does.” 

And they can’t afford to get caught. It’s bad enough Bobby’s got a warrant out for his arrest. Getting picked up with a kid in hand sends the wrong message. “Can you—” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

Bobby passes Evan’s collar over to Chimney and watches his right hand man lead the kid away, into the car parked in between the pharmacy and the boutique. Silence falls as the kids screams are locked up behind the doors of his Chevrolet, and Bobby—

Bobby has a fucking kid.

What the hell.

#wip wednesday #my fic #tv: 911 #jack.txt

[finduilasclln]

Welcome to my Buddie Fic Rec List!

Since I read so many Buddie fics, and some of them are so good, I thought I’d share them in some handy lists. I’ll be posting them in different categories, and you will be able to find all the posts HERE.

Disclaimer: Always read the tags and warnings! Also, tastes differ. These are my personal favorites, which doesn’t mean they’ll automatically be yours of course.

If you want to reblog and add some of your own favorites that fit the category, please be my guest! I always love discovering new fics. I will also add new recs of my own whenever I stumble upon them.

One last thing: Please like and comment when you’ve had a nice read. It means so much to authors to hear your thoughts! And don’t hesitate to share this post and spread the love for these fics around!

Buddie Fic Rec: "Lightning Strike / Buck's Coma".

Fics that are dealing with episodes 6.10 and 6.11 aka Buck getting hit by lightning and his subsequent coma. (Speculation as well as canon compliant)

It only falls into place when you're falling to pieces, by justhockey || 4759 words ||

“You don’t deserve him,” Eddie says. “You never have, and you never will.”

And then he hangs up the phone and lets out a ragged breath - one it sounds like he’s been holding for much longer than the length of that conversation.

It makes Buck’s fingers itch with the urge to reach out and touch him. He’s reached through fire and over cliff sides, across blood-soaked asphalt and between a decades worth of trauma, all for Eddie. This - this is nothing.

one more tomorrow, by fallingthorns (@fallingthorns) || 4438 words ||

He presses Buck’s hand into his forehead and breathes in the scent of antiseptic that lingers on Buck’s skin. He doesn't understand how he missed so many clues, doesn't know how he's been so clueless. But he thinks that some part of him did know that he was in love with Buck, because he put him in his will and made him Christopher’s guardian. Some part of him, deep down, knew what Eddie himself didn’t even realize.

He exhales and squeezes Buck’s hand again. It’s not supposed to be like this – the will doesn’t cover this. It was never supposed to be Buck that goes first.

“Bobby,” he whispers, voice cracking as he closes his eyes against the dorsum of Buck’s hand again. “What am I going to do?” -- Or, in the hospital, Eddie waits, and thinks, and dreams.

coming back as we are, by markofalover (@markofalover) || 4178 words ||

“Hey, Buck,” Maddie cuts in, soft. “Evan. Look at me.”

Buck looks at her. His heart rate is up, he can hear it on the monitor, and the nurse is looking between them with a raised brow. He’ll have to remember to apologize later, after he gets to his—

“They’re in the waiting room.”

...or, wherever he was, Buck comes back.

the tide comes (and goes and goes), by renecdote (@renecdote) || 3402 words ||

It’s almost funny that Eddie brought him to the beach today. To the ocean. He doesn’t know—can’t know, Buck hasn’t told anyone—but Buck feels unbearably seen by it anyway. He almost wishes Bobby was here too, so he could let his captain wrap an arm around his shoulders and say, “See? It didn’t take either of us.”

(That’s not true though, is it? It took them, it just didn’t keep them.)

Buck, Eddie, the beach, and conversations about okay.

For BTHB: hyperventilating

like the peel clings to the pomegranate, by fallingthorns (@fallingthorns) || 3482 words ||

Buck startles awake to Chris prying his eye open. Chris’s concerned expression swims into his vision as both eyes adjust, squinting at the morning sun streaming in through the window.

“You’ve been sleeping for fourteen hours,” Chris deadpans. Buck is still half asleep, but he catches the slight waver in his voice, can see his eyebrows furrowed as he watches Buck carefully. “You went to bed at seven last night, and now it’s nine in the morning.”

“Nine in the morning, huh?” Buck’s own voice resembles more of a croak as he sits up, muscles aching and head still throbbing. It’s all a result of being struck by lightning and in a coma for a few days, he knows, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it.

But what he does like is the smell of Eddie’s sheets, the pictures of him and Eddie and Chris on Eddie’s bedroom walls. He likes the feeling of Eddie’s arms around him in the middle of the night, making sure that he’s okay and breathing.

“Christopher.” Eddie’s voice hisses through the crack in the bedroom door. “I told you not to bother him.” -- Or, Buck recovers and doesn't quite realize what he means to others.

Raise my hand before I can speak my mind, by Mellaithwen (@mellaithwen) || 1696 words ||

“My name’s Eddie, by the way. Eddie Diaz.”

“Buck,” Evan says in response, before frowning. He’s never introduced himself as Buck in his entire life. “Uh—I mean—my name is Evan but…"

“But your friends call you Buck?”

Evan wants to say no, actually, because they don't. The youngest Buckley sibling has always gone by his first name, or his full surname. Never anything in between. The closest he’s ever come to having a nickname is when kids like to call him Mr Bee! And he buzzes back in response, but….Buck? No, that’s...that's new..

Eddie meets his son's favorite teacher, although it's not technically their first meeting at all... aka a coma!dream meet-cute.

let me know you (bedhead and morning breath), by burnthatbridge (@burnthatbridge) || 6157 words ||

When Eddie wakes, it’s to Buck’s arm slung across his chest, Buck’s ankle hooked over his, and Buck’s erection pressing into his hip.

Two out of three of those aren’t unusual.

It’s six weeks since the lightning. Five weeks and two days since Buck woke up. Four weeks and three days since he was released from hospital. Four weeks exactly since he came home, came to stay at the Diaz house while he recuperates, like he should have from the start.

It’s been three weeks and four days since they started sharing the bed.

or: Buck hasn't gotten off since the lightning strike. Eddie watches him do something about it.

Fragile lines (and wasted time), by Mellaithwen (@mellaithwen) || 7457 words ||

“Hey Buck,” Christopher says a little shyly, before reaching out to grab Buck’s foot through the hospital blankets—shaking it in the same way he’s woken his father up on many a bleary-eyed morning. The familiarity of the gesture makes Eddie’s head spin.

But of course, there’s no response from the comatose man on the bed.

“I thought you said he was sleeping,” Chris mumbles, angrily swiping at his cheeks, and Eddie’s already broken heart shatters all over again for whatever hope his son had just lost when his expectations were so cruelly dashed..

While Buck sleeps, and dreams in the aftermath of the lightning strike, Eddie tries desperately to hold himself together.

***

I will be adding my own fics that fit the category, in case you want to read those too:

lights will guide you home, by Finduilas || 916 words ||

Buck and Eddie have a talk after Buck gets back from the hospital.

#Buddie #Buddie fic rec #911 #Buddie fic #Fin's fic rec list #NEW CATEGORY! #Because this one needs a new page :)

[911ficrecs]

Whump/ Hurt!Buck Masterlist

Accidental by Rosefield - 36,090 words, teen+

Summary: It was an accident. He slipped. That doesn't mean he isn't going to take advantage of the opportunity that presents itself.

---- Post Lawsuit, Buck accidentally cuts his arm. He decides that maybe not getting help is best for everyone.

--- TW for suicidal idealization and injury that turns into a suicide attempt.

a leaf falls on loneliness by iimpossible_things - 11,163 words, not rated

Summary: Buck doesn’t think that if he were to say, “I’m in a bad place”, that anyone would turn him away. Really, he doesn’t. The 118 has too many good, kind people for that.

But every time he wants to open his mouth, to say something, to reach out to Eddie or Bobby or Hen or Chim, he hears Eddie yelling, “you’re exhausting.”

—you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting—

So each day he does his job and he laughs and he jokes and he pretends he’s the care-free goofball he’s always been. And each day he packs away his bruises and his worries, takes them home to his empty loft with its quiet rooms, and licks his wounds in silence.

Always, All Ways by ashavahishta - 85,000 words, explicit

Summary: “Buck is very dear, Mr Diaz. Not only to me but to the pack. You’ll find that if you treat him with anything less than utmost respect you’ll have a lot of people to answer to.”

Eddie swallowed. It was clear that in the absence of a mate, this omega had found himself a very protective pack. “Understood, sir.”

Or: Buck’s the only omega in the 118. He’s got secrets, and walls a mile high.

Eddie’s the alpha determined to knock them down.

blue enough to bruise by renecdote - 3,161 words, teen+

Summary: Two things happen at once:

Buck overbalances, arm slipping from around the bridge.

The rope snaps.

They lock eyes for a second, half a second, Buck’s wide and afraid, Eddie’s probably a match with the way his heart is pounding hard enough to hurt, nothing either of them can do, knowing that there is nothing either of them can do, and then—Buck is falling.

Breath and Shadow by Princessfbi - 20,629 words, teen+

Summary: The words hit the back of Buck’s neck and slid down his spine with the drops of the cold sweat collecting in the small of his back. The weight on Buck’s chest was an echo of what it used to be but still as suffocating as before when those words whirled around on repeat every time someone looked too long, looked too closely.

“He’s fine,” Hen had said to Bobby that day he’d come in sporting a bruise on his face and lying through his teeth about some bullshit with a bicycle.

The day Hen had lied for him too.

fireflies where my caution should be by littlesnowpea - 13,799 words, mature

Summary: “You never talk about your parents,” Eddie says, which is not even remotely what Buck expects Eddie to say. He frowns, tilts his head, but it isn’t a question, as evidenced by Eddie charging on. “I never asked because I figured it was your business, but the look on your face any time they’re brought up tells me you don’t get along.”

Buck swallows hard, against a lump in his throat. His parents? Eddie’s right, he never talks about them, for good reason. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, not sure what he’s even going to say.

Eddie takes it as the answer Buck is trying to make it out to be. He squeezes Buck’s wrist again, takes a deep breath, like he’s on a call with someone who’s panicking. Buck finds his breathing slowing to match Eddie’s, and Eddie nods as Buck gets it under control.

“There are people on the porch,” Eddie says, voice even. “Saying they want to meet their grandchild.”

i'm sinking deeper (reaching for the end of the light) by moodyreindeer - 8,716 words, mature

Summary: "I'm just so tired."

post 3.04, rewrite of 3.05 - when all is said and done, Buck is just really fucking tired of feeling alone.

Love You Sober by Child_Of_Wonderland - 4,545 words, teen+

Summary: Buck twirls the beer bottle around in his fingers and tries to ignore the rapid fading of the warmth in his chest. It's not a feeling he can mimic, no matter how hard he may try, and his brain won't stray from a perfect image of Eddie. To be loved back, that's all he really wants.

one part trust, three parts betrayal (just add fire) by wonderfool (foolmetal) - 14,925 words, teen+

Summary: Buck's parents are in town. It all goes downhill from there.

Overcome by Spicysauce - 53,697, mature

Summary: Or, set post season 5A, where Buck is alone, and angry, and exhausted, but mostly terrified that everyone he loves is slowly slipping away from him.

Reaching In The Dark by Pline - 38,713 words, general

Summary: It all started innocent enough but Buck can no longer deny it.

He has a stalker.

Someone so obsessed with him that they would spend hours and hours following him, unnoticed, taking pictures of him, taking notes of his habits.

But life has been so good lately, and Buck doesn’t want to worry anyone. So he tells no one about it, he can deal with it on his own.

real family by haveufoundwhaturlookingfor - 5,578 words, general

Summary: Buck has a son, but only few people know about him because of Buck's abusive ex-husband. Buck has been terrified of his ex-husband finding him and taking his son away from him, but a minor accident with his son makes him realize that maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he told the 118 about his son.

Taking Smoke with my Coffee by UisceOneLove - 3,930 words, general

Summary: "Order for Firefighter Diaz!"

Eddie knows that coffee runs have typically been deemed a Probie task. He did plenty of them when Bobby first recruited him to the 118. So, tradition dictates that it's supposed ot be Ravi getting them.

But Eddie gets to have a lot of nice things for himself. The things that make even his worst call days just a smidge better.

If anyone (Hen) is interrogating him for details, it's definitely the coffee he's referring to."

I'm not in my gear, Buck," Eddie tells the barista when he approaches the counter.

The smile he looks forward to is waiting for him courtesy of the barista that makes even Eddie have to tip his head back a little bit to make eye contact. "Yeah," Buck drawls as he pushes the tray of coffee towards him, "but you're still on duty."

The Messiest of the Messy by Spicysauce - 16,965 words, teen+

Summary: Irritated, Eddie clenched his fists, starting to turn around. "Why would Buck be eating with us - "

The words died in his throat along with the shatter of the mug against the floor. But Eddie barely noticed he dropped it, his mouth slightly agape as he stared at Buck, took in the bruises, and the blood, and general brokenness of the man before him.

***

Or: After the Lawsuit, Buck is starting to think his team will never forgive him and is feeling lonelier than ever, when his dad shows up, looking for money that Buck doesn't have. Now, his ribs are broken and his face has been pummelled into one big bruise. All he wants to do is retreat to his empty apartment and wallow in his own self-pity, but before that he needs to get his keys, which he'd left at the station the previous night.

Everyone else is on shift, so he's hoping he can sneak into the locker room and be gone before anyone notices he was there, but this is Buck, so of course, nothing goes to plan.

there's frost in the air (but there's home in your eyes) by rogerzsteven - 3,702 words, teen+

Summary: Buck and Eddie are trapped in a train crash.

The Third Drawer by scarletmanuka - 7,767 words, mature

Summary: After his return to work, Buck feels lost and alone due to the way he's been treated by the people he thought were his family. In order to stop the pain, he begins to hurt himself instead.

this is me trying (at least i'm trying) by screaminghalfpastmidnight - 15,393 words, teen+

Summary: Buck never really dealt with his issues after the tsunami and the team never really asked so here he is, two years later - the pier's reopening, a victim shows up and thanks Buck, plus the city wants to give him an award for not dying out of pure luck. So, yeah. Buck's not doing well, everyone knows and Eddie's unsure which lines he should be crossing now that he and Buck are in some weird, middle stage of knowing that they will be together, but aren't yet due to personal reasons (like figuring their own relationship trauma out so they're not shitty partners).

waiting on the sunrise by autumnchills - 28,375 words, teen+

Summary: When Buck left home, it was a rushed decision. He didn’t know where he was going or what he was going to do, but he had a high school diploma and enough street smarts to make it as far from his father as possible.

It's been nearly ten years since then, and now his father is in town. Buck quickly learns that some things haven't changed.

But other things have, and his family will help him realize that.

#buddie fic rec #buddie #evan buckley #hurt!buck #whump #masterlist

[falsemortal]

Mirror

CW Mild Self Harm, Body Horror

Hey, where are you?

Travis?

I thought we were having dinner and drinks tonight?

Messages ping, calls are missed.

You’re scaring me, please answer.

Notification after notification, they pile up unbeknownst to Travis.

He’d stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror for far too long as he washed and shaved his face before their date. His dark eyes scrutinized his aging appearance; the bruising around his creased eyes from decades of lack of sleep, the deep set of laugh lines that mocked him of happier times, and of course, the ever growing thin spot on the crown of his head.

He glances at the velour ring box on the counter. The contents made him feel hot and squirmy, like the lovesick fool he was. It was an heirloom, something he’d kept hidden in his things for so long in the hopes of possibly finding happiness, finding someone to share it with. He’d taken it to a local jeweler just last week to get it cleaned up after collecting dust for over two decades.

A small, miscalculated flick of his hand, and blood dribbled down his cheek. Iron in the air.

In a blink, he was back.

Blood soaked, not sure if it was his own or what he’d slathered on himself before the hunt. He was in pain, his panicking heart pulsing with stabs in his abdomen. He gripped the sink, the cold porcelain biting into his skin as it rooted him to the spot as she walked up behind him.

“Why are you here, Travis?” Her voice shot down his spine, it was husked like a whisper yet felt forced like a shout into his mind, “You ought to be out with the others. Like I say, we’ve been all night long trying to keep those kids safe.”

He felt his stomach tremble, bile in his throat as his body responded on its own. It felt foreign hearing his own voice forced out of him, “Ma, ah.. It’s Kaylee.”

He felt lightheaded as he relived the emotions that were swirling in his head in that moment. He felt the disappointment and pure hatred coming from the figure behind him, the woman who clearly regretted giving birth to him, regretted him existing, regretted everything to do with him because he wasn’t the ‘perfect’ Hackett, not like Chris.. not like Bobby would have been.

Her light blue eyes were like silver daggers, stabbing into his back as she waited for him to continue.

“She’s…” he choked, not able to swallow down the lump of bile. He coughs violently, unable to breathe. There is no compassion in the motherly figure as the final word comes out. “..dead.”

The world spins around him.

He’s retching into the sink, only to see vibrant red splattered everywhere before falling to his knees. Something sharp is in his throat and it burns with each shaky breath he fails to take. He heaves uncontrollably as his vision shakes and darkens, a plink! of glass finally hits the white porcelain. A brief feeling of relief.

He forces himself to look, his hand fishing around in the murky liquid until his fingers hit something. He pulls it out and chokes on phlegm as he looks at that bloody chunk of mirror that has haunted him since that summer.

His mother is yelling at him, he knows she is. She’s berating him and wailing about how fucking stupid he is. He feels it more than hears it, it’s deep in his bones. Each word is like a stab into his back, jab after jab. His knees feel weak, as he wobbles and clutches the sink to stay upright with his free hand.

Maybe she’s right.

Maybe he could have fixed it.

Maybe he’d still have a living, breathing family.

If he had tried harder..

The mirror sings in his hand.

The last time he had held it.. he thought he was dying.. was going to die. It had been a last resort, he was going to plunge it into her- Laura, whose animalistic maw bit into his forearm.

Laura.. the girl he’d fallen madly in love with in the aftermath. She’d become his best friend, his confidante–

He shakes his head, looking at the reflective piece of material. The blood running down it, he can see his reflection looking back at him.

It could be so easy. He’d see them again. They could be happy. The curse couldn’t possibly have gone with them in death.

He wants to see them. He misses them dearly, despite how they treated him. They were family- family is everything-

His thoughts are racing, spinning around behind his eyes. His reflection’s eyes glow red.

He clenches, exhaling sharply at the burn of the glass cutting into his palm. It almost felt good.. Addictive. The pain, however, made him alert to his surroundings.

The bathroom door slams open, followed by a loud gasp. “Trav, no, baby-”

He hadn’t even heard her car pull into the driveway, the slam of her car door. Nothing.

How long had he been out of it?

He’s coddled and pulled into the light again. The mirror, no, his razor clatters in the sink loudly. His hand stings and everything seems so much brighter, clearer.

Laura, his sunshine, has him. Her warm hands are on his face, forcing him to look her in the eyes. It’s hard to focus, it’s all.. too loud.. too much. Her blue eyes sparkle with unshed tears, they lock with his for a brief moment. He’s tethered to her, he knows it.

She’s pulling him out of the well again.

“Baby, what happened?” Her thumb on his cheek breaks him, he chokes as his vision burns. She’s so soft against him, cushioning his stiff joints as he goes limp. He noses into her neck, sniffling uncontrollably in her comfort, inhaling the sweet scent of her sugary, vanilla perfume.

She holds him as he lets himself go, he soaks the front of her nice shirt. It’s ugly and loud, him choking and more than likely getting more than just his tears on her.

..and she’s nothing but gentle. There’s no scolding; it’s just her shushing him, whispering sweet nothings in his ear, and rubbing his back softly. At some point, she starts to sing for him in low, soothing tones. It’s very sweet, but he doesn’t deserve it.

Her kindness makes him cry harder, just letting everything go. He’s been so pent up that the initial flow of wails, erupts into floodgates. It hurts after awhile, his eyes swollen and partially shut once he can’t get anything else to come out. He feels completely raw, battered, and a little bit.. renewed?

“Sorry,” he rasps, his voice strained from misuse and slightly muffled from his position against Laura’s chest, “M’sorry, sweetheart.”

“You’re okay, baby,” she smoothes her hand over his cheek, gently cupping his jaw, “Can I see your hand, please?”

He does exactly that, inhaling sharply as he sees his own damage from his straight razor, a birthday gift from Chris a decade ago.

You’re an old man now, huh, T.

Chris’ voice in his mind makes him wince. He feels pathetic, watching Laura gently prod at the gaping slash in his palm. It stings, but he’s had worse.. way worse.

“You’re going to need stitches, Trav,” she murmurs, straightening her back to look at him with determination, “You still have that kit here?”

He nods, pulling on the cabinet beside him, despite it running straight into his leg. He shifts over enough for the door to be opened and for Laura to pull out the small medical kit.

“Thank you, baby,” She settles back in front of him, leaning over to kiss his temple and then each of his cheeks. “We don’t have to do it now, but do you want to talk about it? No matter what it is, I love you, okay?”

“Love you too,” His lip twitches, averting his gaze. “Later, please.”

“Of course,” she gives him a small smile, “Now, do you have something to bite on or is this lidocaine still good?”

“It’s new,” it hurts to get more than a few words out, but he’s trying. His eyes wander back over, watching her as she worked meticulously. He’s always been fascinated by how nimble her fingers were, how quick and easy everything seemed. There’s a slight pinch as she gives him the shot, then it’s disposed of quickly into the small trash bin behind her.

She threads the needle with ease, only pausing to catch him looking at her. She cocks her head slightly, “Is it numb yet, baby?”

He shudders, feeling the uncomfortable pressure of her hand on his. He nods, giving her full access to his palm.

“Let me know if you start to feel anything, okay?” Her eyes pleaded with him after he nodded once more, “You’ve lost quite a bit of blood, Trav.”

“M’sorry,” he repeats, brows furrowing at the pressure of Laura starting her work on his hand. “M’sorry about our date.”

“Shhh, it’s fine,” her smile wobbles, a lone tear slipping down her cheek and onto his finger, “You just scared me, alright? I thought something happened at work- or.. or on your drive over-”

“I..I don’t know what I was doing,” His heart thumps, his other hand coming to rest on her thigh. It’s a weak squeeze, but it’s reassuring in nature. “I was getting ready.. and then all of a sudden there was blood.”

“Sounds like me once a month,” she gives a weak laugh, trying to lighten the mood. She then clears her throat, “I’m just glad I found you sooner than later, baby.”

Travis gives her a chuckle, it's light and hardly there. “How bad does it look, doc?”

“Well, it wasn’t that deep, so you didn’t hit an artery, so that’s good,” she studiously checks her stitching job, before finishing and wrapping it in a bandage. She holds onto his hand with both of hers, catching his eyes as she gently leans down and kisses the wound. “It definitely will take some time to heal, so nothing strenuous, alright?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he smiles softly at her as she assists him up off the ground. He wobbles on his feet, but she holds her ground perfectly fine.

“Now, you’re going to go sit in your chair,” she nudges him in the general direction of the living room, “And I’m going to get you some water, and I’ll root around for something you can eat. Did you get groceries for this week?”

“Yeah,” he grunts as he’s manhandled into his recliner, “Went yesterday.”

A glass of cold water is thrust into his peripheral, of which he grabs and sucks down. He was parched, his head panging in the pain of dehydration.

“Slow down, baby. Don’t throw your body in shock.” Her small hand is back on him, careful and soft.

He licks his lip and grimaces at the taste; a mix of salt with the remnants of bile, setting the glass down on the side table. He gently touches her hand back, “Laur?”

She looks at him expectantly, a slight tremble in her hand as he turns his over, his thumb rolling over her knuckles.

“M’sorry,” he forces himself to look her in the eyes, “M’sorry, that I hurt you- sorry that I frightened you. I love you so very much. I.. don’t know what happened to me. Everything.. just became so loud and real.”

“Trav,” she crawls into the recliner, blanketing her partner with her body. She makes a soft noise at the feeling of his hand on her back, her nose at his throat, paralleling their pose from earlier, “What did you see, baby?”

He hesitates, everything was all still so fresh.. but he knew he was safe. Laura was here, his light in the darkness.. his beacon to come home. “..I saw Ma.”

“I was.. It was that night all over again. It felt so real, Laur,” He audibly swallows, hugging the blonde tighter to him. “She was..being herself, accusing me of.. Not being attentive enough to the family.”

He shudders slightly, “I was covered in blood- and.. and-”

“Shhh,” she kisses his throat, “You’re okay. You’re safe and here with me, baby. You’re okay.”

She sits up slightly, her hands on his shoulders. “You’re a good man, Travis. You’re kind, you’re sweet, and you’ll do anything to bring happiness to those you love.. I have plenty of first hand experience about that.”

His gaze goes downward, flushing,

She kisses his cheek, “You have nothing to worry about. We’re a team and we get through everything together, alright?”

He gives a weak chuckle, “Always.”

—-

Laura stays the night, it’s where they were going to end up anyway if they had followed through with the date. She makes herself cozy, making a quick dinner of breakfast casserole, the quickest way she could get a lot of iron back into the older man. It was rich in eggs, sausage, and spinach.. and she couldn’t lie, it’s probably one of the better things she’s able to make without looking up a recipe.

Travis is stubborn and makes sure he is the one to clean up the mess in the bathroom, he struggles using his less dominant hand, but he makes it work. Laura pops in right as he pockets the ring box, she does a thorough sweep with disinfectant spray and nudges him out of the small room so she can mop the floor.

He carefully goes down the hall, the fumes making him a little woozy.. Well that and the fact that she’d been so close to seeing the ring.

…the ring he was supposed to have proposed with tonight. He’d had it all planned out, after their dinner date, he was going to drive them out to this animal refuge she’d mentioned to him before. He’d spoken with the staff there and they’d given him a thumbs up on having a private moment in the cattle range. The blonde often talked to him about how “cute” the highland cows were, so.. why not?

But now that’s ruined, he’ll have to call them back and apologize.

Until Laura adjusts on his lap later that evening.

“Okay, I know that’s not you poking me,” she shifts again, rubbing up against the item in question. “What is that?”

“Ah, um–“ he flushes, putting his arm around her waist the best he can to try and stop her, “It’s.. it’s not. Um..”

He hears the blood in his ears as he maneuvers her off of him and stands up with her looking at him quizzically. He goes down to one, shaky knee.

“Travis, what are you doing?” Her eyes are wide, watching him pull out the box from his pocket.

“What I planned on doing today, sweetheart,” he sniffs, opening the box to show her the ring, “Laura, you’ve got my heart in a stranglehold.. and I can’t offer you much in return, but you’re my best friend and.. and the love of my life, who somehow.. keeps saving it.”

His red rimmed eyes glisten with emotion, the black pools looking like deep, far galaxies. Laura's eyes are looking back into his, her cheeks flushed beautifully with the hint of tears around her eyes.

“T-Trav-“ she sniffles, her lip quaking.

“Laura Kearney,” he tries his best to smile at her through his trembly emotions, “Sweetheart, will you marry me?”

The blonde catapults off the recliner, tackling him to the ground as she assaults him with kisses, covering him in affection as he squirms and starts to laugh at the sensations.

“Hey, hey-“ he chuckles as he bonks her lightly on the head with the ring box, “Was that a yes? Or are you trying to kill me?”

“Yes, dummy! I am saying yes!” She wraps her arms around his chest, pressing her face into his neck. “I love you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart,” he sighs blissfully, squeezing her lightly.

The adrenaline wears off a little as Laura sits back and looks at him. Travis takes that moment to take her hand, looking at her intently, “C..can I?”

“Please,” she smiles, watching him take the small golden ring out of the box and slide it down her finger. “It.. feels perfect? How did you..?”

“..we’ve held hands a lot, I kinda.. memorized the size of your..” he blushes, rubbing his cheek nervously, “It’s weird, I know-“

Laura cups his face, looking at him with the deepest affection she’s ever felt for someone in her life. “Shut up, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

..and they kiss.

#hackearney #travis x laura #travis hackett #laura kearney #the quarry #hackearney ficlets #i love them i love them i love them

[spaceprincessem]

fuck it friday

still not over the couch scene so have this little gem that i wrote out of no where thanks to @alyxmastershipper because we talked about buck falling asleep and not waking up til morning and eddie just taking care of buck like he always does. also im going to use this as a fuck it friday because i can! thanks @spotsandsocks for the tag sending you all the love!!

Buck takes a breath, deep and slow, the rich warm scent of freshly made coffee catching on the inhale. The corner of his lips tug up in a smile as he buries himself further into the couch, the soft edges of his favorite throw blanket tucked right around his shoulders. He can hear the quiet chirp of birds, the kitchen radio humming in through the open door, and the shuffle of socked feet against carpet. There’s a familiar tinkle of laughter not too far away and Buck instinctively turns towards it, eyes still closed as the gentle tug of sleep pulls him back under.

There’s a soft tap on his shoulder, fingers drumming with a carefulness that makes something fizzy, like champagne, pop and sizzle in his blood. The grip becomes tighter, but not painful, more grounding than anything else. It doesn’t stop Buck from startling awake, like he’s realized he’s forgotten something (maybe he’s late for work, everything feels a little fuzzy, like his head is full of cotton wool). 

“Whoa, hey,” a deep voice says next to him and Buck immediately feels every muscle relax as he blinks open bleary eyes, Eddie steadily coming into focus.

He’s in a blue long-sleeved shirt and grey sweatpants. Definitely not what he was wearing last night when Buck came in and asked for a beer. He tries to form a sentence — or at least a string of words — but it’s all jumbled and stuck, like everything’s been caught in thick, golden syrup or honey. He feels slightly thrown off his axis because he hasn’t had a decent night's sleep since he left the hospital.

“You looked exhausted,” Eddie explains, he looks so soft and beautiful in the morning light, “I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”

Buck can see his shoes on the ground next to the coffee table and that at some point through the night he moved so he was snuggled down onto the couch. The blanket he knows he didn’t grab during the night. He feels the tell-tale prick of tears and he forces them back as he jams his palms in his eyes. 

“Oh.” Is all he manages and he can feel Eddie’s thumb swipe over his collarbone soothingly.

“Dad,” Christopher calls from the kitchen, “tell Buck we made pancakes!”

“We made pancakes,” Eddie smiles and it is the most beautiful thing Buck’s ever seen.

“That uh,” Buck licks his lips, “that sounds good.”

“Take your time,” Eddie says as he leans down, “we can talk later.”

Eddie gently presses his lips to Buck’s forehead, lingering for a touch too long. This time Buck does let the tears slip from the corner of his eyes as he melts beneath Eddie’s touch. He squeezes Eddie’s wrist and gives his best friend his best smile before Eddie carefully wipes the fallen tears away with the pad of his thumb. He heads back into the kitchen and Buck takes a moment to let everything settle in his bones. 

He’s home he’s home he’s home

He doesn’t need to check the time of day, but he does shoot Bobby a text to settle his lingering and frayed nerves. He slowly gets to his feet and joins his two favorite boys in the kitchen.

tagging @shortsighted-owl @mumucow @elvensorceress @sibylsleaves @rogerzsteven @buddierights @monsterrae1

#buddie #buddie ficlet #911 fox

[potionsprefect]

Just Existing

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x Victoria Clarke

Word Count: 1k

Summary: After the attack, Victoria struggles to have a purpose

Rating: General Audiences

Category: Angst, Fluff

Coming back to work has been exhausting. Even with the extra week off after visiting family in New York, Victoria was struggling to adjust back into a routine.

The constant reminders of what happened in the hospital plagued her mind, she found it hard to think of anything else.

Everyone had been very supportive and offered to be an ear if she needed anyone to vent to. Victoria found that her words were empty. What else was she meant to say?

She had to find her old routine again, maybe it would give her some sense of normality.

With a smile to her patient, Victoria exited her patients room, the minute she had her back turned to them and had walked out the door, the smile faded and the breath she had been holding evaporated.

Victoria leaned against the wall, tears stinging her eyes as she took deep breaths. She felt guilty. Guilty for being alive. Guilty that it was her who had survived, the doctor who stupidly ran into a dangerous room and put herself and others at risk. Why me? Why did I live when others didn’t?

Victoria didn’t know how long she had been stood there until she opened her eyes. One by one, tears rolled down her face. She hastily wiped them away and ran to the bathroom to fix herself. She stared at herself in the mirror, dark circles under her eyes as a tired face stared back at her. What on earth am I doing?

Fixing her appearance, Victoria headed out the bathroom and up to the Diagnostics team office. There was only one person who could make her feel better. One person who she knew she could rely on. One person who loved her and would protect her with all his might.

“Please don’t be in a meeting.” Victoria muttered as she approached the office. The blinds were pulled down. Victoria knocked gently before opening the door.

Ethan was sat at his desk, his smile when he saw his girlfriend quickly faded when he saw her face, how tired and upset she looked. It broke his heart.

“What’s wrong?” Ethan jumped out of his seat and headed over to Victoria.

“Just having a moment. I just needed to see you.” Victoria smiled sheepishly as more tears filled her eyes. She hated being a nuisance.

“That’s okay. But are you sure it’s nothing more than that?” Ethan smiled gently, taking her hands in his.

Victoria took a deep breath. “I keep thinking about it. Wondering why I survived and others didn’t. Why I’m still alive.” She sighed.

Ethan pulled her into his arms, running a gentle hand through her hair. “Because your journey isn’t over. You have so much left to give.”

“So did Danny and Bobby and they didn’t get to experience it.”

“Life is cruel. We know that as doctors. Thank you for confiding in me. I’m glad you’re not keeping your thoughts to yourself.” Ethan pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“You’d probably sense something was wrong anyway. You are a diagnostician.” Victoria laughed a little.

“There’s my girl.” Ethan smiled. “Why don’t you go home? I’ll find someone to cover your shift.”

Victoria shook her head. “I have things to do.”

“Whatever it is can wait. You can’t jump straight back into work. The trip to Dagger Mountain was too much.” Ethan reached into his pocket and handed Victoria his keys. “Go home to mine. I’ll be home in a few hours.”

“Home?” Victoria raised an eyebrow.

Ethan chuckled. “My home is yours now. Did I not make that clear?”

“I could do with you making it a bit clearer.”Victoria laughed.

“Considering my wardrobe now consists of your clothes, I thought that was enough.”

“It’ll do. Thank you. Not just for this. For everything.” Victoria said.

“You know I’d do just about anything for you.” Ethan replied.

As if to show what he meant, Ethan leaned forward and pressed his lips to Victoria’s. After a few seconds, Ethan pulled away, the smile widening on his face.

“What time do you reckon you’ll be home?” Victoria asked.

“Probably around 4. I’ll make sure I leave early.” Ethan replied.

“Okay. See you later.” Victoria went to head out the door.

“Victoria.” Ethan called out.

“Yes?” Victoria turned to face Ethan, hand on the door.

“I love you.” He smiled.

Victoria smiled back, the most genuine look she had all day. “I love you too.”

Feeling hopeful, Victoria headed out the door, the smile on her face growing with each step.

Victoria heard the door open later that afternoon and saw Ethan walk through the front door.

“Hi! How was the rest of your day?” Victoria asked.

“I couldn’t really concentrate. I was too worried about you.” Ethan replied, taking his shoes off. He made his way over to the couch and sat down, pulling Victoria in his arms.

“I’m fine honestly.” Victoria said.

“Be honest with me.” Ethan replied.

Victoria sighed. “I just feel like I don’t have a purpose. I just exist, I go to work and I come home again. Ever since the attack, I just don’t know what to do.”

Ethan tightened his arms around her. “I’m sorry Victoria. I should’ve noticed sooner.”

“It’s not your fault! Maybe I should’ve said something sooner. I go into patients rooms, I come out again and I just deflate. Everything is so tiring.”

“Would relaxing your schedule a bit help? Maybe if you take on less responsibilities?” Ethan suggested.

“I don’t want to be a nuisance.” Victoria said.

“Victoria you are never a nuisance. Whatever makes you feel more comfortable.” Ethan pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, you know that?” Victoria looked up at him.

“Likewise. Please don’t suffer in silence. You can always be open and honest with me.” Ethan replied.

“I just want to know what to do. I can still treat patients fine.”

“Maybe we’ll assign you less patients. Ones that do not require a lot of work or extensive diagnosis.”

“That could work. And then overtime, I can get back into some sort of normal routine.” Victoria smiled.

“I have no doubt that you will.” Ethan smiled back.

Victoria knew she was never on her own, Ethan would always be there for her, whatever the situation.

She was lucky to have him. Just as he was lucky to have her.

Ethan would do anything for MC. Fact. Tagging in reblog

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey x victoria clarke #ethan x victoria #playchoices #fanfic #open heart fanfic #open heart fanfiction #choices: open heart #angst #fluff #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week

[canonicallyobserving911]

Seven Several Sentences Sunday

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

Season 7 FANON Speculation: Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - Hiatus Reading: “I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Chapter 14 is available on AO3 & Chapter 15 will be posted soon.

Currently 14 chapters completed: 417.3K Words Rated: Mature

One chapter will be posted at a time.

___________

I'm so excited to continue writing Chapter 15 and for anyone who hasn't read Chapter 14, here's a brief overview: Buck and Eddie sat together in Buck's oncologist's office to hear the results of Buck's Cancer Screening, Buck had a setback that reminded Eddie about the day he found Buck unresponsive in his loft back in July, the Buckley parents showed up unannounced, Bobby knows Buck and Eddie are in a relationship but he hasn't said anything and Eddie had a panic attack after they left the scene of a call. Also, Eddie and Karen had a conversation about Eddie's paramedic certification course and Buck and Bobby spent a Saturday together participating in a father and son activity.

___________

Here's some Buck and Eddie romantic fluff from Chapter 15.

___________

Buck leans down, he gently rubs his hand up and down Eddie’s back and when he begins to wake up, Buck softly kisses him on the lips, smiles and says, “Good morning my love”.

Eddie’s eyes flutter open and in less than one second, he focuses and once he realizes his boyfriend's ocean blue eyes are looking back at him, he smiles and responds, “Good morning, babe”.  Then as realization sets in, his expression changes to one of confusion because the last thing he remembers is they were talking on the phone before 3:00AM after Buck called and said a current Hershey University professor responded to his Facebook message with information about his biological father.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, I did but babe… when did you get here?”

“About a half hour ago.  I brought breakfast because today… is “Diaz Day” and you’re not going to do anything except for take a shower, get dressed and relax.”

When Eddie sits up in bed, Buck’s smile widens because even though Eddie’s hair is standing up all over his head, Buck still believes he’s the most beautiful man he’s ever seen in his life.

“You brought breakfast?”

“I did and I’m going to cook lunch and dinner today too and breakfast in the morning, so you won’t have to do anything.”

Eddie yawns then asks, “Is Chris…”

Buck interrupts him.  “He’s already awake and waiting for us to meet him in the dining room so we can eat.”

Eddie stands and wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s waist.  He pulls him close and whispers, “Thank you” into his ear.

“You don’t have to thank me… we’re a team and we have each other’s backs and hearts.”

Eddie tightens his arms around Buck’s waist and buries his face in between his neck and shoulder.  He knows he’s tired and he has been for a couple of days but Buck has his heart and his back and he couldn’t be happier.  He's here and he declared today to be “Diaz Day” and he said he’s going to take care of him.  He’s never had anyone to do anything like this for him before but Buck does these types of romantic and giving gestures all the time and he knows he wants things to be like this for the rest of their lives.

What else does Buck have planned for "Diaz Day?"👀

____________

Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it.  But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.

__________

Chapter Summaries

Chapter 1 - Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.

Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.

Chapter 3 - After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.

Chapter 4 - Eddie has a few realizations about his life which causes him to consider moving back to El Paso, TX while Buck continues to be reminded of his past which causes him to take an impromptu road trip across America.

Chapter 5 - Both Buck and Eddie have difficult conversations with their parents and Buck finally learns the truth behind the reason why his mother despised him while Eddie finally tells his mother about the way she tries to control him.

Chapter 6 - More than two weeks after Buck pushed Eddie away after suggesting they needed a break; Eddie decides to try again. Eddie’s there for Buck when he’s at his worst just like Buck was there for him when he was at his worst and he won’t let Buck give up.

Chapter 7 - After Buck’s mental breakdown, Eddie has his back the same way Buck had his when he had his own breakdown more than a year ago.  They share several vulnerable and emotionally intimate moments with one another and they begin to realize their small, sweet and caring gestures matter just as much if not more than any grand gesture ever could because these are the foundations of a long-lasting love relationship.

Chapter 8 - Buck, Eddie and Chris all have their own therapists and during their sessions, they reflect on their pasts while they’re in the present so they can prepare for their future together as a family.

Chapter 9 - Buck and Eddie are there for each other when Buck has to testify as a witness during the trial.  But by the end of it, they’ll both realize their individual and shared traumas are going to keep resurfacing until they talk about them, deal with the fact that they’re in love with one another and face the fact that they can’t live without each other.

Chapter 10 - As Buck and Eddie finally begin to confront their past traumas, they realize how much they need each other to fill in the gaps of their memories.  Additionally, the universe screams at them for what appears to be the one hundredth time so Buck can realize he doesn’t have to ‘find it’ because he already ‘made it’ and Eddie’s reminded tomorrow isn’t promised and he doesn’t have to die alone if he doesn’t want to.

Chapter 11 - A “virga” or dry thunderstorm is in the forecast but once the rain starts, the thunderstorm happening outside won’t be able to match the storm brewing inside between Buck and Eddie.  It’s the universe’s final scream and when the tumultuous winds begin to blow, they’ll have one last chance to hold onto everything they’ve built over the last six years or they’ll lose it all forever.

Chapter 12 - Buck and Eddie have always shared a deep physical attraction and an emotional intimacy that’s unmatched but now that they’re in a relationship, they’re learning how to navigate the romantic intimacy they’ve been waiting for six years to explore. The love they have for each other is a once in a lifetime, soulmate, love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time.

Chapter 13 - While navigating the newness of their romantic relationship, Buck and Eddie take advantage of every moment they spend together. As their individual lives, people from their pasts, time constraints and the possibility of losing each other again make attempts to interrupt and interfere with their journey to forever, they love, care for, support and hold onto each other even tighter to withstand it all.

Chapter 14 - Buck and Eddie can see the lights at the end of the tunnels regarding the results of Buck’s Cancer Screening along with everything else they’re dealing with. But are the lights they see exits to the tunnels or are they headlights on different runaway trains that are speeding towards them in an effort to interrupt their forever?

Chapter 15 - Will be posted soon.

__________

Read chapters 1-14 are available on AO3.

Continue reading on AO3

Chapter 15 will be posted soon.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #christopher diaz #the buckley diaz family #buckley diaz family #911 on abc #911 abc #911 fanfic #buddie fanfic #ao3 fanfic #Fanonwriter2023 on AO3 #Hiatus Reading #Seven Sentence Sunday #Several Sentences Sunday #buddie wip

[genevievemd]

A Conversation With His Father

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey, Alan Ramsey, mentions F!MC (Genevieve McClure) Word Count: 954 Rating: G Category: Fluff Trope(s): and they realize they’re in love

Summary: While visiting his father, Ethan comes to a realization. 

Warnings: 

A/N: Just some fluff to end your week. Set somewhere in September of 2020, so 3 months after E and G become official af! Enjoy. 

The sun begins to set as Ethan walks into the deck of his childhood home, smiling down at his phone as he texts Genevieve back. The plan had originally been for her to join him on this trip to Providence, but she’d been held back at the hospital, with concern for her new patient. She didn’t like the idea of being an hour away should something arise, which Ethan understood. Even if he was a little disappointed. 

Not just because he was excited to finally introduce her to his father as his official girlfriend, but  also because he loathed being away from her. Over the last year, Gen had become, not only his romantic partner, but also his best friend – as juvenile as that sounded – and the person he wanted to spend all of his free time with. It wasn’t something he’d ever had with a past girlfriend, and seemed to reinforce the notion that what he had with Gen was one of a kind. 

“For someone who hated texting…” Alan joins him on the deck, sitting at the outdoor table with two mugs of after-dinner coffee. 

“It’s Gen.” Ethan shakes his head, joining his father at the table. 

“Oh, I had no doubts about who it was.” His father gives him a knowing smirk, causing the tips of Ethan’s ears to turn red. 

“Right.” He clears his throat, putting his phone away and taking a sip of his drink. 

“How are things between the two of you?” 

“They’re great. Better than great, honestly.”

“That’s wonderful to hear. It’s nice to see you so happy.” 

“She’s amazing, Dad,” 

“I could tell that from the first time I met her. Genevieve his a rare bird.” 

“Mhm.” He hums in agreement, letting his mind drift for a moment and think about all the little quirks he’s come to know about her.  

The way she’s always humming some song and that more often than not a Taylor Swift song. How she dances when she eats something she loves, shifting back and worth in her seat and bobby her head with a soft little smile on her face. How free she is with her emotions, not embarrassed to cry at a commercial or tv show – how even a simple song can bring out such deep feelings. 

She was so kind, full of so much empathy. Even for those who have wronged her. 

The more Ethan has come to know her since that first meeting in a waiting room, the more he realized that Genevieve was truly one of a kind – a rare bird as his father had said. 

“So, you two are official?” Alan raises an eyebrow, eyeing him as he takes another long sip of his coffee.

“Yes.” He smiles back, happy. “We have been since June, so it’s been a couple months.” 

“About damn time.” 

“I know.” Ethan laughs, but then sobers up, looking down at his coffee. “Can I be frank?” 

“Of course. I’m your dad, you can always be open and honest with me.” 

He nods, still looking down for a moment before lifting his eyes back up to his father. “There are days when I look at her, and hate that I pushed her away and kept things platonic for so long, but… I realize that, had I not, I don’t believe if we’d have the friendship we do, outside of our romantic feelings.” 

He feels a slight sliver of anxiety, being so open and honest with his father after years of hiding his true feelings. But the only way forward in life, the only way to becoming whole and healed was to be open and honest. First with himself, and now with those he cares about most. 

So Ethan allows himself to feel that anxiety, that fear of letting others see the truest version of him, but he doesn’t let it stop him. He barrels through it, knowing the end results are worth the risk. 

“It feels juvenile to say, but, Gen is my best friend. I tell her everything– she knows my every thought and feeling, we joke and laugh and, it makes being with her all the better. I’ve never had that with anyone else.” 

“Not even Harper?” 

“No.” Ethan places his now empty mug down onto the glass table, leaning back in his seat.  “Don’t get me wrong, Harper has always been a friend, but this relationship, with G, is so different.” 

“You’re in love.” 

Ethan freezes for a moment, a heartbeat of fear at the thought, running through his body. But it goes away as quickly as it came. A smile spreading across his face. 

“I am.”

“Have you told her?” 

“God, no.” He laughs nervously. “The thought alone is still incredibly jarring. I’m not ready to tell her yet. Plus, I’m not sure if G is at that point with me, and I don’t want to put undo stress or pressure on her.” 

Though, his father may not know the secrets of Genevieve’s past, Ethan does. The heartbreak and struggled she’s had to endure. While he’s honored to know she trust him with that part, Ethan is all to aware of the wall that’s still around her heart. She is still cautious with him, and until Ethan knows that Genevieve realizes and trusts that she is undoubtedly safe with him, he will keep the depth of his feelings to himself. 

She was willing to wait for him, and now it was his turn to show her that same patience. 

“Well, from what I’ve seen,” Alan smiles at him, resting his elbows on the table as he leans closer. “I feel confident in saying that Gen loves you just as much as you love her.” 

“I hope so, Dad.”

A/N: Little does he know G’s had almost the same conversation with her sister lol Thanks for reading!

(tagging separately) 

#ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #open heart #open heart fanfiction #ethan x gen

[chronicowboy]

baby, how'd we end up here | 15k

The firehouse always feels otherworldly when the trucks aren't in the bay. It's just one of those things. The absence of three hulking, bright red vehicles is always going to draw the eye just as much as the unmissable rigs themselves. But it's an odd feeling to walk into the station and find it devoid of it's usual chaos. It feels unnervingly calm, the moment of stillness before a bolt of lightning or the split second upon waking from unconsciousness where the pain hasn't caught up yet. It feels like anticipation and foreboding.

Buck feels it a lot more than anyone, except maybe Bobby, always arriving to work much earlier than necessary because the station feels like home in a way the loft never has. He can't count the number of times he's arrived only to find B-shift out on a call, one of three people in the firehouse—B-shift's man behind tucked away somewhere, and Bobby squirrelled away in his office to prepare for the day. It never fails to unsettle him.

Head down, Buck changes into his uniform as quickly as he can, eager to join Johnson up in the kitchen and ask Bobby if he wants a cup of coffee to accompany his paperwork. Before he can run from the glaring absence, however, Eddie pushes into the locker room with a softly hesitant smile that makes Buck's stomach fill with a whole kaleidoscope of butterflies.

"Hey, Buck," Eddie murmurs, voice still rough with the slightest edge of sleep. It sends a thrill through him.

"Morning, Eddie." Buck smiles, pulling his foot up onto the edge of the bench he's sat on to tie his laces without taking his eyes off Eddie. "You're early, what gives?" And this he can do, focus on their easy banter rather than the warning trilling away in his chest.

"I'm not that bad," Eddie insists in a grumble, an echo of a familiar argument. Buck's smile grows into a grin, twitching beyond its limits until his cheeks ache with it. Eddie turns away from his locker with something shy and hopeful shining in the depths of his eyes. "If you must know, I..." He scrunches his face up and rubs a hand over the back of his neck. "I wanted to ask you something."

"Shoot," Buck says, sounding a lot more casual than he feels.

The burning hot hand of hope clenches around his heart, searing it's mark into the muscle as it pounds a staccato rhythm against his ribs. A voice hisses all of his deepest desires out into the open, but Buck shakes them away. Eddie's probably just asking him if he wants to hang out with Christopher—except Eddie would never be so... serious about that.

(Unless he's going on another date, a crueller voice snarls in the confines of his mind.)

"Do you..." Eddie bites his lip, grip on the shirt in his hands turning his knuckles white as he frowns down at it. "Christopher has a sleepover tomorrow night," Eddie blurts out breathlessly, eyes a little wide and a lot imploring. Buck's heart races faster, the hope burns hotter, the butterflies swarm. "So, I was thinking we could get dinner." Eddie unsticks his eyes from his hands, slowly dragging them up to Buck's face, so tender and trusting that Buck aches. "Just the two of us. At that new Mexican place you wanted to try. Like..." Eddie takes a deep breath, and Buck loses all of his.

"Like a date?" Buck whispers for him

(OR: the safe haven baby fic)

@danielsousa @binickmiller @jamietarts @shitouttabuck @butchdiaz @buddstiel @organizedstardust @theoneandonlypigeon @anatargmova @alyxmastershipper @buckley-diaz-rules @blazeturbo102 @panbuckley @slowlyfoggydestiny @thatnamewill-probably-change @compactdiscmp3 @batgrldes @scattered-winter @prince-buck-diaz

#sami rambles #okay i love this fic sooooooo much wtf #it came out of me like i was possessed #maybe this is what being an aunt does to me #anyway i hope you all enjoy this one as much as i do!! #911 fic #911 fanfic #buddie fic #buddie fanfic #buckley diaz family fic

[youarestrongerthanyouthinkyouare]

I NEED YOU TO HOLD ON, ‘CAUSE MEMORIES AREN’T ENOUGH (ao3)

Everyone turns to her when they hear her coming, holding Jee-Yun in her arms. She knows that the hospital is not the right place for a 2 year old girl, she feels like the worst mother in the world at that exact moment, but deep down she knows it’s the right thing to do, because they don’t know if he’s ever going to wake up, and if not, his niece deserves to see him one last time. And above all that, she knows no one is judging her, in fact when she looks at them she sees only empathy, closeness and a few small smiles aimed at the little girl, who waves her little hand to every member of her little big family. Chim approaches them, kissing her on the temple and Jee on her cheek, then silently opens the door to Buck's room, moving to let them pass. He is their family too, he knows it, but he also knows that the two Buckleys and their little Buckley-Han need a moment alone, so he stops, leaning his forehead against the wall near the closed door, trying to stop all the bad thoughts that run through his mind.

Maddie sits in the chair next to the bed, holding Jee to her chest with one hand and taking her brother's hand with the other, kissing his knuckles then squeezing it in hers.

Jee squeezes her stuffed animal, leaning over to reach his uncle, placing a small hand on theirs. Maddie looks at their hands, thinking of all the times Buck put his hands on her belly before Jee was born, remembering his smile every time they felt her kicking, and she takes a deep breath. She needed to be strong for her family.

“Do you want to go to uncle Buck, baby?”

“Yes mama”

"Okay but be gentle, princess, okay? Uncle needs to sleep.”

She nods and Maddie carefully places her on the bed, and Jee leaves her peluche in her mother's hands, turning to face her uncle.

“Uncle Buck tired?”

“Yes, baby, he worked a lot and now he needs to rest.” She looks at her while she looks at Buck "so then he can play with you.”

Jee strokes his hand and then lies down next to him, putting a little arm around his waist and her face on his chest, on his heart. Just the way she hugs him when they sleep together on Maddie and Chim’s couch.

Maddie wipes away a tear before Jee can see her, and she sits back in her chair, leaving them close together. She forces herself up after a while, aware that she has to get Jee out of there, and she approaches the bed again “baby we have to go now, say goodbye to uncle Buck.”

Jee nods and sits down again, kissing him softly on the cheek and placing her little hand on his heart “nighty night uncle Buck, I love you like this” she says, opening her arms as much as she can, and Maddie takes her in her arms, then caresses his hair and she feels like she's going crazy because she can almost see a smile on Buck's face. But she knows he's not there with them right now, he's in a coma, and that’s not possible.

Jee takes the stuffed animal from her mother's hand -not just a simple peluche but her favorite one, the one she's always slept with, a firefighter teddy bear that Buck gave her the day after she was born, ‘cause she was a little firefighter according to him, she still remember the expression she made when Chim brought it to her, because Buck couldn’t go and visit them, a bad gift that the pandemic had given them- and places it on Buck's chest.

“Are you leaving it here, with uncle Buck?”

“Yes mommy, so he can sleep well”

And this is what breaks her. She storms out of the room, silently asking someone to pick Jee up (and Bobby immediately walks over picking her up in his arms and walking away) before she collapses to the floor, her back against the wall and her knees to her chest, finally letting the tears she's been holding back fall.

Chim immediately bends down in front of her, taking her face in her hands "I’m here, I’m here"

“I can't…I can't let her lose one of her favorite people in the world. I can't, Chim” she says, looking at him through tears “Jee needs us and she needs her uncle, too. I can't imagine a world where she grows up without him by her side. I want to see them get closer everyday, I want to see her smile and laugh with him, I want to get pissed when he’ll inevitably teach her stupid things, or when he’ll say yes to everything she asks, I want her to learn to be a Buckley from the best Buckley I know."

Chim sits next to her, squeezing her to himself with one arm, wiping away her tears and then his with his thumb, and rests his temple against hers "you will. He will come back, Maddie, I don’t really think he wants to leave his favorite girls so easily.”

They look at each other and then silence falls, and they remain on the floor together, hands intertwined, watching their broken friends around them.

He can't leave them, he would hurt them too much if he did, their lives would never be the same and he still has so many things to do in his life, she just hopes that he knows that too.

#911 spoilers #911 speculation #911 fic #911 fox #maddie buckley #evan buckley #chimney han #buckley siblings #madney #uncle Buck and baby Jee #coma buck

[sevlawless]

how do i tell you?

pairing: nate sewell x f!detective (felicity langford)

word count: 1.9k

warnings: some swearing? and felicity overthinking so much like it’s her job

tagging: @masonscig @blainehayes

notes: so this has been a wip for... a year at least LMFAO but i'm in twc hell so i dusted her off and she's here! i will never get tired of examining felicity under a microscope like she's an ant so <3 this takes place sometime during book 3 (we're ignoring that her apartment is ruined) AND this fic is loosely based on how do i tell you? by lizzy mcalpine

[read on ao3]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

felicity watches as the fan on her bedroom ceiling grows faster with each spin, the yellow blades losing their rectangular shape in seconds and morphing into a blur right in front of her eyes. she's probably spent a thousand nights doing exactly this, hoping that if she stares up at it long enough it'll put her to sleep.

but how can the thought of sleeping even cross her mind when all she can think about is him?

all felicity sees when she closes her eyes is nate; the way he looks at her when they're together, his deep brown eyes staring into her own and leaving her breathless, the intensity making her look away, how he concentrates when he's pouring over a book in the library, the way his ring covered hands turn each page so delicately.

she also sees the way his smile strains when she turns him away yet again, reassuring her that it's okay, how he reaches out to comfort her but quickly puts his hands back in his pockets as if touching her would burn them both.

it's not that she doesn't like him. she adores him. she knows being with him would make her happier than she's ever been in entire life, even a sliver of what could be when they're together makes her smile a little brighter and stand a little taller.

if only she could get over herself.

to say she's been hurt badly in the past would be an understatement. she's never anyone's priority, at least not in the way that they were to her. whether it was with bobby, or the handful of other relationships she's had, they always end up leaving her in the dust, struggling to understand where it went wrong, as if it was all her fault.

she knows nate would never do that, at least she thinks he wouldn't. she's just so tired of having to pick up the pieces of her broken heart that it seems pointless to attempt a romantic relationship with anyone ever again, despite how much she might want to.

and she desperately wants to.

this can't go on forever, she knows that. she needs time, but she's tired of feeling down on herself and fuck if she does it any longer. nate deserves to know how she feels.

before she can stop herself, her phone is unplugged and off her nightstand and into her hand. she's calling nate before it even registers in her brain what she's doing.

it rings four times (not that she was counting), when she suddenly hears some shuffling on the other end. her heart sinks as she realizes he was probably asleep and feels guilty for calling him so out of the blue, and she hates to admit it but she wanted - no needed, to hear his voice and maybe just talking it out would help and god, what the fuck is she doing-

"felicity? is everything alright?" his voice is urgent, but calm and she rolls her eyes at how quickly it soothes the storm of overdramatic thoughts swirling around in her head.

"i just had a hard time sleeping," she smacks her hand against her forehead. that is not why you called him. why are you prolonging this?

"i'm sorry to hear that," he says and her heart swells at his words. she's known him for six months now and still, every time he says something to her that feels so genuine - because it's nate, and he doesn't have a insincere bone in his body - she can't help but gape in disbelief that anyone could be so… unabashedly kind to her. is she really that starved for affection that someone being polite to her feels like such a big deal?

'any normal person would be sorry that you couldn't sleep,' she thinks. 'don't get ahead of yourself.'

she shakes her head as if to clear that thought out of her brain.

"do you want to talk about it?" nate asks.

her mind immediately starts to backtrack. she couldn't possibly tell him how she feels. it's too soon. she can't do this.

"no, it's really dumb and i shouldn't have called you. it's so late," she lets out a nervous laugh, "and i know you hate talking on the phone."

"i was awake anyways," she swears she can hear his smile through the screen as he continues, "and you know i enjoy talking to you, no matter the circumstance."

i would fight through any form of technology if i knew you were on the other end.

the memory of him saying those words to her outside of the warehouse makes her head spin. her skin flushes as she mumbles an okay.

"if you don't want to talk about it, i understand, but i hope you know i'm here for you, felicity. always."

always.

after a beat of silence, she mumbles, "what if you leave?"

"felicity, i-"

"leave wayhaven," she says quickly, "things could calm down and unit bravo isn't needed here anymore and you get assigned somewhere else. what then?"

"i can assure you if we got assigned to a different place, i wouldn't lose contact with you." he declares it with such confidence it makes her brain foggy.

she smiles in spite of herself. "what, would you write to me?"

"absolutely."

she giggles. "maybe farah could teach you how to text."

she expects him to join in on the laughter but he's quiet. "or, you could teach me."

"i could."

there's a moment of silence before nate speaks again.

"is me leaving something you think about frequently?"

she almost forgot she let that slip and her bedroom suddenly feels a lot smaller and constricting.

"not really. i mean, i guess so, since i brought it up," she rambles and exhales a deep breath. i just…"

"i don't think that i ever mean that much to anyone," she blurts out, eyes widening at what she's saying. "i know that sounds dumb, but when things get tough with anyone, no one has ever stuck around and seen it through. i want to mean enough to someone to where they want to make it work when things are hard. and i'm terrified of that happening with you."

there, she said it. the worst that could happen is that he doesn't feel the same. but he does feel the same.

right?

her thoughts come to a halt when she realizes he hasn't said anything.

"nate? hello?" she pulls the phone from her ear to see that the call has been disconnected.

did he hang up on me?

maybe he accidentally hung up. he'll call back any minute.

one minute turns into five. five minutes turn into ten.

she can't stop the tears from forming in her eyes.

he doesn't feel the same way. of course. why would he? why the fuck did i say all that? he probably thinks i'm crazy. god, why am i such an-

the knocking on her front door stops her overthinking completely. she's probably so tired that she's hearing things, until she hears a knock again.

she rubs her eyes and slips out of bed, adjusting her pajamas and treading sleepily to the door.

she looks through the peephole and her heart is in her stomach.

it's nate.

she immediately yanks the door open. he's stood there, wearing his green satin pajamas with his usual jacket hastily thrown on. his hair looks like he hasn't brushed it in days, and he has sweat dripping from his brow. she'd find it attractive if she wasn't so anxious and confused about why he was here.

"may i come in?" he asks, eyes pleading and she lets him in. she notices he's also wearing his bedroom slippers which have tracked mud into her apartment. nate notices this too.

"i apologize for the mess, i'll clean it-"

"why do you look so-"

"disheveled?" he chuckles, running a hand through his hair.

"yeah. not that i don't like the look but-" it hits her. "nate, did you run here?"

he looks uncharacteristically nervous, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

"i did."

"why?"

"because i wanted to finish our conversation in person."

her face grows hot in embarrassment.

"about what i said, nate, i-"

he takes both of her hands in his, the touch taking her by surprise. she forgets whatever excuse she was going to say about baring her feelings instantly.

"i know we haven't known each other that long, felicity, but i do care about you. more than i've cared about anyone in a long time. your happiness is of the utmost importance to me, and to hear you say you feel like you don't mean that much to anyone-

"you mean everything to me. i need you to know that. i'm sorry people in your life have been so unkind to where you feel this way, but i want you to know i would never dare to make you feel any less special than you are.

"i know you need time. i completely understand. but please know that i would never do anything to hurt you, felicity. doing so, i think would hurt me."

tears are welling up in her eyes again and nate's hands move from her own to cradle her face, thumbs at the ready in case any should fall. he's giving her that look that he always gives her, the look that tells her that he means everything he said. his brown eyes are staring into her own, and for once she doesn't look away.

"i… i don't know what to say," she mentally scolds herself, but how would anyone respond to the man of your dreams telling you he wants you and would never harm you?

"you don't have to say anything. i just wanted to tell you how i feel." he's smiling, but she knows she needs to buck up and let him know that - whatever this is between them - isn't one sided.

"i know," she sighs. "nate, i'm crazy about you. i care about you a lot, and i'm really sorry i haven't done a very good job at showing it. you deserve more-"

"no," he assures her, rubbing her cheek with his thumb. "i deserve you, and you deserve to be happy."

it all clicks into place for felicity at that moment.

"you're right."

she has to stand on her tiptoes but luckily nate meets her halfway as their lips meet in a searing kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck. his hands move to the small of her back, bunching up the fabric of her nightgown in his fists. kissing him is better than she ever could have imagined, his lips molding to hers as if they've always belonged there.

he pulls away too quickly for her liking and his eyes widen in concern, his hands snapping away to hover over her waist.

"felicity, are you sure?"

she smiles, blush rising in her cheeks. "i've never been more sure of anything in my life."

she kisses him again, and again, and again, until eventually, she has to pull away so she can breathe, and is met with nate's adoring gaze.

"i could get used to this view," she jokes, moving her hand to his hair to brush a strand out of his face.

he catches her wrist after, hand sliding down to entwine their fingers together.

"me too," he admits, smiling down at her. "and i am not going anywhere, so you'll be sure to see it often."

and she believes him.

#n sewell #nate sewell #nate sewell x detective #twc #the wayhaven chronicles #my writing #twc: nate x felicity #im just so obsessed with them ! #also rip nate's slippers 💔 LMFAOKSKDNDNDKD

[aylacavebear]

Dimensional Shift - Chapter 7 S4E3-6

Story Summary: Maria was just a regular girl, worked at a gas station, wrote fanfic, and loved Supernatural. She even created her own supernatural creature for her writings. When the aurora borealis comes to Sioux Falls, South Dakota, one Halloween night, everything changes for her in ways she never expected. Will she be able to navigate this new world she's thrown into?

Word Count: 3688

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will eventually be 18+!

Warnings: Angst, some Fluff/Comfort, Alcoholism.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 7 - S4E3-E6

(Sep. 20/08 - Oct. 28/08)

Maria stayed out of the next case, knowing that this would be when Castiel would come to Dean in his dreams and then send him back in time to see what happened between his mother and the yellow-eyed demon Azazel.

After which Dean would be confronting Sam about being on demon blood and working with Ruby. Then they’d have a Rurguru case, which was when Sam would choose to stop drinking the demon blood all on his own. She also had no desire to watch Dean flirt shamelessly with the waitress when they’d deal with the shapeshifter at the Oktoberfest.

She told the boys to be safe and that they could handle it, but if they needed anything, she and Bobby were there and only a phone call away. After the boys left, Maria filled Bobby in, swearing him to secrecy because, in her words, “This needed to happen a specific way.” Bobby wasn’t happy about it, but he agreed. 

“Kid, they should know more than what you’ve told ‘em,” Bobby sighed after she explained some things.

“I can’t risk changing too much, though. I know they both miss her, and I don’t know another way to bring her back,” Maria practically mumbled.

“But do they really need to go through all that crap?” he asked, not completely sure how it all fit together.

She sighed, staring at the coffee table, “Over the time that passes, the two of them learn things on their own and it helps their bond eventually get stronger. Those two would do anything for each other. Even Cas ends up being family, but he does some stupid shit too.”

Bobby sipped his whiskey as he eyed Maria momentarily, concern etched into the lines of his weathered face, “How are you holding up?”

She shifted in her seat, her gaze flickering to the floor before meeting Bobby’s eyes, “Honestly, it’s both weird and cool, being here. I fell in love with all of the show's characters. It’s why I wrote fanfic. I just never thought I’d actually end up here,” she chuckled dryly, a hint of vulnerability in her voice.

He leaned back in his chair, studying her with a mix of sympathy and understanding, “Just know, I still see you like my daughter. You can talk to me about anything,” he tried to reassure her.

“I know, and I appreciate it. I just don’t know how to act around the boys sometimes,” Maria sighed.

Bobby chuckled, “Well, the you from here has had a crush on Dean since she was about thirteen. Swore me to secrecy back then. I’m gonna guess you probably have more than a crush.”

Her cheeks warmed as a deep blush appeared, and she was thankful neither of the brothers was there, “Yeah, that would go over really well. The girl from another dimension is in love with what used to be a fictional character in her world,” she said fairly sarcastically, then sighed and looked back down at the table. “He’d laugh at me.”

Bobby sighed, not quite sure how to say what he was thinking about, “You could always just be blunt about it. Don’t live with regrets, kid.”

She knew exactly what he meant. Bobby had regrets, most of them having to do with his deceased wife and choosing never to have kids himself. He’d broken her heart and then had to kill her three days later due to her getting possessed by a demon. She debated telling him he should get an anti-possession tattoo, but that would have changed far too much. 

“Dean isn’t the kind to settle down, Bobby. He likes his “freedom”,” she replied, rolling her eyes and putting the word freedom in air quotes.

He eyed you for a minute before he continued, “He may be an idjit, but he has a good heart. I think he might surprise you if you were honest with him.” After sipping his whiskey, he realized something, “Is that why you didn’t go with them?”

She shifted in her seat uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact with him, “You try to watch someone you love flirt with every girl but you. Can we talk about something else, please?”

Bobby sighed, deciding he’d try to figure out a way to help her, but kept that to himself for now. “Then, while you’re here and not on a case with those two, you’ll train. That way, I don’t have to worry ‘bout you so much when you do go out with them.”

“Thanks,” she replied, giving him a thankful smile.

During that month, she spent a lot of time practicing movements, using her Touched abilities to get the hang of them better. It was the training she needed to reacquaint herself with what the character from her fanfic had been doing since her powers manifested. One thing she was having the hardest time with was feeling so alone. 

She was a fangirl and had been for over a year, and now she was in her favorite show with a fictional character she’d gone and fallen in love with. She also figured this entire situation had to be weird for all three of them.

When she slept, memories of “her past here” played through her mind, and she began missing the man who was her father here. She also got memories of the times she had hung out with the brothers, Bobby, and even with John. 

Bobby made sure to reacquaint her with how to shoot a gun. Her body knew what it was doing, but she had to grasp the feeling of it when she pulled the trigger. Each gun felt different. She didn’t want to be afraid of them, so she managed to stay serious while Bobby taught her.

Castiel couldn’t infiltrate Maria’s dreams due to her being a Touched and having the protection of Bastet by a birthmark or, more, a brand of a small, one-inch black cat mark on the back of her left shoulder. Most monsters couldn’t use their energy powers on her due to that. It did depend on how powerful they were. Of course, she wasn’t invulnerable. 

When Dean got Ghost Sickness, Sam called Bobby in for some help, so Maria tagged along. She stayed in the motel room with Dean while Bobby went to help Sam. Dean didn’t have long left, a couple of hours if he was lucky, and the hallucinations were bad at this point. Maria did her best to keep him distracted but couldn’t when the sheriff showed up, worse off than Dean was. 

Maria’s blood could only heal so much, and this was not one of those things. Even though she tried, cutting her finger and dripping blood into Dean’s wound that he had scratched into his arm, sadly, it had no effect. All she could do was hold him as he held his chest, gripping where his heart was. She knew he wasn’t meant to die here, but being a part of this was hard for her, far harder than watching it on the show.

“Bobby and Sam will fix this, I promise,” she tried to tell him, even if he was in too much pain to hear her.

Then, out of the blue, he was fine, and Maria let out a sigh of relief. The blood she had dripped into his wound now healed his injuries fairly quickly. Dean looked up at her, slightly confused as to why she was holding him. He got to his feet and then helped Maria to hers.

“Thanks for trying at least,” he told her with that smile smirk of his.

“What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t at least try?” she replied, smiling more with one side of her lips than the other, not quite a smirk though.

This was the first time the two of them had been alone since she had arrived in their world. Dean was relaxed as he headed over to the fridge, grabbing himself a beer and chuckling slightly. Maria, on the other hand, felt nervous and anxious around him. Keeping her composure took quite a lot, but Dean noticed the smile she couldn’t completely hide, as well as the emotions in her eyes.

“Well, I appreciate it,” he finally told her before he took a drink.

She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt as she went over and sat on the edge of the bed. Her nerves felt as though they were on edge. Maria knew there was more to Dean than just his outer appearance. But dear God, that outer appearance was something she’d fantasized over on numerous occasions. 

He was the epitome of rugged charm. With broad shoulders and a sturdy build, he exuded an aura of strength and confidence that drew people in effortlessly. Along his chiseled jawline was two-day-old scruff since he hadn’t bothered to shave, accentuating his rugged good looks. Then, there were his piercing green eyes. They held a hint of mischief, always ready with a smirk or a cocky grin that sent hearts racing.

Dean had the most expressive eyebrows that could convey a range of emotions, from determination to vulnerability. He moved with a relaxed, self-assured swagger, every step exuding a magnetic charisma that made it impossible not to be captivated by. From his leather jacket from his father to the worn-out boots, he was the embodiment of any girl's wet dream.

“Want a beer, Sweetheart,” he asked, that damned smirk plastered on his lips again.

“I’d say sure, but beer doesn’t do anything. It’d kinda be a waste to drink it,” she chuckled, hoping he hadn’t noticed the blush that had crept into her cheeks. She also hoped he hadn’t caught her staring at him, again.

He chuckled, “I’d offer you whiskey, but I don’t have any here. We can get some at the store down the block if you want.”

She tilted her head slightly, wondering if he had something else on his mind, but was too nervous to ask at the moment. “It’s okay. I’m pretty sure Bobby and Sam will be back soon.”

Dean leaned against the counter, sipping his beer, occasionally looking over at her, but hadn’t said anything. She could tell he was in his head, lost in his thoughts while still paying attention to everything. It was moments like this that his personality captivated her. He had the kindest heart and the sharpest tongue that cut with a pain that was capable of pushing someone away forever. Just as their eyes locked, Sam walked through the motel room door.

“You two okay?” he asked, concerned for his brother still.

“Yup. Hunky-dory,” Dean replied, sporting that playful smirk of his again.

Then, the three of them drove back out to the factory. Maria had been lost in her thoughts on the drive. Dean kept glancing at her in the rearview mirror, which his brother did notice, but neither of them said anything to her. They met back up with Bobby, and after Dean parked, he pulled four beers out of the green cooler, but Bobby declined. Maria leaned on the trunk of the Impala, thinking about the events that were about to play out soon when Sam pulled her from her thoughts.

“So, Maria, you comin' with us, or heading back with Bobby?” Sam asked, glancing over at her.

“I could do either, but it’d probably be more fun going with the two of you,” she chuckled playfully.

Dean raised an eyebrow, as did Bobby, “Bobby can’t be that boring,” Dean stated, that smile smirk on his face again, which made Maria roll her eyes, but in a playful way.

“Well, if I’m gonna be here, in this world, I might as well get to hunting,” she told him. 

The week she’d spent at Bobby’s while Dean and Sam were working out their issues, she had begun practicing with her abilities, feeling how her body had moved. It was almost muscle memory for her, which she found only slightly odd. 

She had also been having more dreams that consisted of memories of her life in this world, things that her character may have dreamt about in her fanfic. Maria was done questioning going back or even attempting to find a way back. 

She’d already decided she was going to stay, and no one was going to change her mind on the matter. This whole thing reminded her of a few different anime shows she had watched where a player got sucked into the game they had been playing.

Maria’s words made Dean chuckle, “Alright, Sweetheart, but you’re in the back seat.” 

She rolled her eyes before grabbing her bag from Bobby’s back seat and putting it in the Impala’s trunk. Then she hugged Bobby, promising to check in with him while she was out with the boys. Maria had gotten better about Dean’s scent not affecting her as badly as it had in the beginning. 

Her main reason for going with them was because she wanted to see the angels, knowing they were going to show up. She’d already told Bobby about the seals that were being broken, telling him what books were going to be the most helpful. Maria had also gotten more confident over that week, smiling as she walked over to Dean and Sam.

“Ready when you two are,” she told them with a smile before climbing in the back seat of the Impala, getting comfortable in the middle. 

Dean, Sam, and Bobby looked at each other, all exchanging looks while signing to each other.

Bobby: Keep an eye on her. I don’t know if she’s really ready for this yet.

Sam: We will, and we know. She seems eager, though.

Bobby: She’s been training the whole time the two of you were gone.

Dean: Really?

Bobby: Yeah, really. Just watch her. I worry.

Dean: She’s family Bobby, and our old Maria was a damn good hunter. We’ll keep an eye on her, we promise.

Sam: Yeah, Bobby, we promise.

They said their farewells before Bobby got in his car and drove off. Sam and Dean exchanged another look before they got in the Impala. She knew they had just over a week before Sam would find the next case. This was one of those timeframes the show hadn’t added for the fans to watch. She was curious as to what the two would end up doing.

She stared out the window at first, just watching the scenery pass by while Dean drove. Her mind wandered again, thinking about the future events and how pissed he was going to end up being with her.

“So, since you know the future, Sweetheart, what’s our next case?” Dean teased her playfully, glancing at her in the rearview mirror.

Maria rolled her eyes, “You’ve got roughly ten days before the next one comes up.”

“Didn’t answer my question,” he sighed.

She clenched her jaw, still looking out the window, “It’s in Red Wing, Minnesota, okay? But nothing is gonna show up for a case till around the twenty-ninth.”

Sometimes, she hated her memory. She’d done so much research in her world on locations that weren’t easily found when it came to towns that weren’t listed on regular fan sites. This had been one of those that took far more research than she was willing to admit, putting together bits and pieces of information and asking numerous other fans on several chat sites.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Dean smirked, feeling accomplished that he got something out of her.

“So, what are we gonna do for just over a week?” Sam thought out loud.

They normally didn’t have time to themselves, and now they knew they had a week off of hunting monsters or dealing with a case. Maria was pretty sure what Dean would want to do, and she didn’t want to think about it.

“Well, I say we go find a nice small town near there, get a couple motel rooms, and relax,” Dean said happily.

As long as my room is on the other side of the building entirely, Maria thought to herself.

“Sure. It’s been a long while since we’ve had time to relax and do nothing,” Sam chuckled, looking forward to it now, too.

The drive wasn’t horribly long, just under half a day, but they got in sometime near three in the morning. When the brothers went in to get a couple of rooms, she followed them after grabbing her bag. Dean wanted her room next to theirs, but she asked for one as far away from theirs as possible, making sure it had two beds. She had a feeling Sam wasn’t going to want to spend much time in the room with Dean or would end up getting kicked out due to Dean needing some private time.

“What was that all about, Sweetheart?” Dean asked, trying to catch up with her, “Don’t want to share a room with me now?”

She rolled her eyes, “I know what “relaxing” means to you, and I’d prefer not to hear it.”

He smirked, which Sam saw, and he shook his head, knowing his brother was an idiot, having no clue why she really didn’t want to be near his room.

“Oh, and Sam, you’re welcome to bunk in my room, when Dean picks brings a chick back,” she added, making her way to her room on the far side of the motel building.

“Thanks,” Sam chuckled as he and Dean headed to their room.

Maria locked her door behind her before tossing her bag on the bed, grabbing some fresh clothes, and taking a shower. It wasn’t the best water pressure, but it did the job. She threw her hair up in a ponytail and went to the closest corner store, purchasing five bottles of whiskey. Her excuse to the cashier was that she was hosting a party, which he bought.

She hadn’t planned on drinking that night. She just wanted it on hand for the next day. So, when she got back, she tucked it away and out of sight, then crawled into bed. Her dreams were again of memories of this world and her character's past, things she’d never added to her fanfic.

It was a long week for her, and she mostly hid from Dean more than anything. Sam spent several nights out of the week in her room on the other bed, as Dean had done exactly what she knew he would. 

“How long are you gonna not tell him how you feel?” Sam asked on the next to last day.

“He’d laugh at me, Sam. I mean, seriously. A girl from a world where he’s just a fictional character, and my dumb ass had to go and fall in love with him,” she retorted with a humorless chuckle.

“He might take it as a compliment?” he replied, raising an eyebrow

“He’s also not the settling down type. He likes his freedom. Then there's the way he always worries about losing those he cares about most. That somehow being close to him puts them in danger,” she sighed, then groaned, “He’s so stupid in that though. Any person he’s helped is in danger if a monster wanted to get to him.”

“Looks like you know him pretty well,” Sam chuckled, realizing that just because she looked like “their” Maria, she was very different, in all the best ways.

She rubbed her face with her hands, mildly frustrated, “He’d think it was creepy. I could probably tell him what he was thinking most of the time.”

“Not sure I’d want to know what he was thinking most of the time,” he laughed.

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t know,” she sighed.

The alcohol was long gone at this point, and she knew they’d be heading out the following day for the next case. She again offered the other bed to Sam for the night in case Dean picked up yet another girl at the bar he’d been spending far too much time in, at least in her opinion. He did take her up on that offer when he saw Dean’s car gone, yet again, around dinner time.

Maria and Sam had pizza for dinner while watching a movie when they heard the Impala pull up at the motel. She didn’t even need to look out the window to know he had another girl with him. She could hear the woman giggling after the car doors closed.

“You’re only torturing yourself,” Sam sighed, hating seeing her sad like she was now.

“Not like I can just turn off my hearing,” she grumbled, turning up the TV.

She barely slept that night, unable to get him out of her head, so the following day, she looked as tired as she felt when she and Sam joined Dean at the Impala. Dean just watched her, attempting to read her expression, body language, and what she wasn’t saying.

“Never saw you at the bar. You into Sam now?” Dean asked, leaning against the driver’s door.

“He’s like a brother to me, and I’m not into family like that,” she snapped, not looking at him.

“Geeze, Sweetheart. Sounds like you just need to get laid,” he teased.

“Dude? Seriously?” Sam questioned him from the opposite side of the car.

“What?” he asked, acting innocent before sliding into the driver’s seat.

Maria ignored him on the drive, sitting behind Sam and keeping her gaze out the window. She was still fighting with herself on how to handle future events and deal with the man she loved, having no clue how she felt toward him. Knowing him the way she did, she knew how he was going to react to numerous things, especially since if she shared the information, he’d stop it. Her only thought was that she wanted the brothers to have their mom in their life again, and one family dinner that they never got. The one day where their dad got pulled from the past, but that was a great many years from now.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 8 - Coming Soon

Dimensional Shift Master List

Main Master List

Tag List: @nancymcl

#supernatural #SPN #spn fic #SPN FANDOM #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spnfandom #SPN AU #supernatural series #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #supernatural fic #supernatural fandom #SUPERNATURAL AU #supernatural oc #supernatural fanfic series #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x oc #Dean Winchester x femaleOC #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fic

[ever-yours118]

wiping their tears when they cry  for the buckley siblings if that's okay?

“She’s almost two,” Maddie says, as if Buck hasn’t been over for the past hour helping to bake Jee-Yun’s triple-chocolate brownie cake. But the tremble in her voice as the cheerful sound of whisking ceases—that’s what makes Buck come over from the cupboards, settling on one of the kitchen island chairs to peer up at his sister. Maddie’s still holding the whisk, staring almost angrily at the fledgling batter. “Buck—she’s almost two.”

“Three days,” Buck says with a tentative smile. The whisk is dripping dark batter onto the countertop, running in thin rivulets down Maddie’s wrist, and he carefully takes it, setting it in the bowl. “She’s getting real big.”

Maddie nods, and when her gaze finally drops on Buck, her eyes are liquid and watering.

“Oh, Maddie,” he murmurs, almost involuntarily. She melts into tears slowly before him, sinking down onto the chair beside Buck and letting him stroke her back, whisper soft platitudes into her hair.

And it’s always strange, because he’s only seen her like this a few times. They say that watching a mother cry is the most confusing thing for a child, but Buck saw his mother crying all the time—angry, despairing, depressed. She made excuses for her red eyes on what he now knows was Daniel’s birthday—your father and I had a little squabble, or I pricked my thumb on the rosebush, now run along, Evan. But it had never given Buck this feeling, this deep-welling sense of wrongness at seeing his older sister break to pieces.

So he does all the can, rubbing her back in slow circles as she turns to sob into his chest. And slowly, slowly, the shaking of her back subsides as she copies Buck’s deep, instructive breaths.

“It’s just—“ she hiccups softly, head still buried in his polo. “It’s just that the first birthday—it’s everything. Even with everything with Daniel, Mom and Dad took the time for photos of your first birthday party. And I—“

She chokes off, and Buck’s heart cracks a little, right there in his chest.

“Mads,” he says soothingly, helplessly. “Maddie…”

“I’m never gonna get that back,” she says, almost resigned. One hand unhooks from Buck’s polo to swipe at her eyes, but—

“Hey, no,” he says, catching her wrist. “Look,” and he laughs a little—kindly, soft. “You’ve still got batter all over the place.”

Sure enough, it’s smeared on the counter and on Buck’s shirt and all over Maddie’s nice blouse. Maddie freezes for a second before she smiles, watery but true, and it turns into so bright a laugh that Buck can’t help but to grin.

“Sorry about your polo,” she says finally, still a little teary as she wipes her hands on her already-ruined shirt.

“Nothing a wash won’t fix,” he hums. And slowly, deliberately, he reaches out. Maddie sits still quietly as she lets him swipe at the corner of one eye, brushing away the wetness there.

“Thanks,” she says, smiling tentatively.

“‘Course.” He tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, smoothing the soft locks soothingly. “Mads— I can tell you everything I’ve said before, but you know yourself how important it was that you got away.” He swallows, continues. “And I know you’ll never forgive yourself for it. But Chim has, and Jee will—and god-damn it if this isn’t going to be the best birthday cake a two-year old’s ever fucking had.”

Maddie laughs again, surprised, then tugs him into a soft hug. “You better give me all of Bobby’s tips.”

“That would be telling—“

“Then do it yourself, but—“ and she grins, wet but glad. “You’re right. This is gonna be the— the most kick-ass cake we’ve ever made.”

“That’s what I like to hear!”

(send in a prompt for a ship/genpair!)

#maddie buckley #evan buck buckley #911 fic #911fic #911 fox