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boykisserbuckley · 3 years

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‘til death do us part

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howlingheartdemigod · 6 years

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pay attention to me

#usercameron #archieandrewsprotectionsquad #just seeing if your tracked tags work #hehehe

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boykisserbuckley · 3 years

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(12 minutes ago) for @buckleys-diaz

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boykisserbuckley · 3 years

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this is Buck’s “I have a crush” face :)

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boykisserbuckley · 3 years

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👀🔥

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boykisserbuckley · 3 years

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you can have my back any day.

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boykisserbuckley · 3 years

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i hope you read this and find my hands in yours.

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boykisserbuckley · 3 years

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Evan Buckley in 4x14

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boykisserbuckley · 3 years

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- the picture of dorian gray

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boykisserbuckley · 3 years

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beneath the lonely lights - 1k buck wants a hug. he gets one.

It’s a quiet night in Buck’s apartment, and the darkness presses in against the windows. He’s got one lamp on, casting a golden glow from behind the couch, and he’s just finished some movie he’d picked off of netflix that looked vaguely interesting. He’d only been half paying attention while he scrolled on his phone, but it worked for a while as background noise. Then the credits rolled, and the quiet pushed right back in.

Buck likes his apartment, really, but sometimes it feels a little too big. It’s spacious and gorgeous and he loves it in the light of day, when the world is awake and loud. He loves it when Eddie is here, or Maddie, and he has someone he can talk to.

Now, though, the silence is suffocating.

It’s not like—well, it’s not like he can’t handle being on his own. He’s had some practice, after all. He can fill the space with noise, music or the tv or a phone call, if he needs. He can deal. It’s just that on nights like these, when the well of distractions runs dry, it hits him like a wave.

Buck sits up. There’s no reason for him to be feeling like this, not tonight—he’d been with his team all day, and he knows they love him. He knows he’s not alone, and he’s okay when he’s with them and he can fill the void with chatter. It’s not just him against the world, anymore.

But when he shuts the tv off and the light from the lamp behind him casts his reflection on the blank screen, sitting cross-legged in the middle of his couch, he can’t stop the hot press of tears that gather at his lashes. His apartment is too big and too dark and too empty, and he’s all alone, and it’s all too much. Buck’s own loneliness sits like a weight in his chest, heavy and aching. God, he just wants a hug right now.

He sniffles once, and the wave crests and breaks. He presses the heels of his palms into his eyes and takes a trembling breath but the tears slip past anyway, and suddenly he’s crying for no good goddamn reason on his stupid couch in his stupid apartment all by himself. Buck scrubs at his face with his sleeves, but all that does is get his hoodie wet. He can’t get himself to stop. He feels pathetic. He wants a fucking hug.

The screen of his phone is blurred and warped by his tears so he swipes at them again, almost angrily, until he can see his texts. Maddie’s on shift, so he can’t ask her. Buck doesn’t think he could bring himself to admit this surge of whatever-the-hell he’s feeling to his sister, anyway. He’s too embarrassed. But Eddie, though—Eddie gives fantastic hugs, and Buck knows he’s home, because they’d gotten off a shift together only a few hours before.

Buck has the question typed and sent before he can overthink it. mind if i come over?

Door’s always open, Eddie answers not even a minute later. And then, Everything ok?

It’s not. It should be. Nothing’s even wrong, really. It’s just not right. How does he even begin to explain that?

Buck tries to take a breath deep enough to steady himself, only half succeeding. After a moment, he settles on; could just really use a hug.

Get over here then, Eddie texts back.

And Buck doesn’t have to be told twice, with the promise of some company. He sticks his phone in his pocket and heaves himself to his feet. Another swipe of his sleeve across his face ensures that he doesn’t look like a complete mess, but as he locks his door and heads for the parking lot, he still hopes he doesn’t end up running into a neighbour.

He gets enough of a handle on himself on the drive over that by the time he’s pulling into Eddie’s driveway, Buck just feels a little ridiculous. He’s still sniffling lightly, but his tears have dried. He feels shaky and scraped out and raw, still a little off-kilter and a lot embarrassed. But he’s here.

The door is unlocked, just like Eddie had promised, and Buck lets himself in. He moves quietly so as not to wake Christopher, who he expects is already asleep by now. It’s late. He might feel bad about that, if this were anyone but Eddie.

Eddie’s house, even in the quiet, doesn’t feel oppressive. It doesn’t feel cold, or lonely. It’s nothing like his apartment. It’s everything he needs right now.

Buck rounds the corner and there’s Eddie, just turning away from the sink to face him as he steps into the kitchen. The dishes look half done, but Eddie ignores them in favour of grabbing the dishtowel he’d draped over his shoulder and drying off his hands.

“Hey,” Buck says. He curls his fingers into the ends of his hoodie sleeves, and tries for a smile.

Eddie takes in his appearance—and what a sight he must make, right now—and tosses the towel to the side. It lands on the counter, missing the edge of the sink by a hair.

“Come ‘ere,” Eddie says, and he opens his arms like he’s inviting Buck in and it’s—it’s everything Buck needs right now, no matter how silly he felt a moment ago.

He practically dives at Eddie, wrapping his arms under Eddie’s and curling as close as he can get, hiding his face in Eddie’s shoulder. Buck takes a deep, steady breath, and lets it out slow.

Eddie wraps his arms around Buck’s shoulders and gives him a little squeeze. The strange, unexplained tension Buck had been carrying all night finally starts to ease. He melts into Eddie’s embrace, soaking in his best friend’s comfort.

“Thank you,” he says, words muffled against Eddie’s shirt.

“No need,” Eddie says. “You’ve got me, Buck. Any time.”

“I know,” Buck agrees, because he does. Eddie just hums in response, and they fall quiet. It isn’t so heavy here, wrapped up in Eddie. Here, the quiet is easier to face.

#b!writes #911 fox #911 on fox #evan buckley #eddie diaz #dearbuck #userlove #tylerhunklin #buttercupbuck #from-nova #userac #userster #tusernikki #tusera #userdee #userlukas #usercameron #userkatet #yeah i kind of hate this but i'm posting it anyway!! as the world deserves!!

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boykisserbuckley · 3 years

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how can i see anything but this: how trauma lives in the sea of my body, awash in the waters of forgetting.

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boykisserbuckley · 3 years

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my everything.

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boykisserbuckley · 3 years

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my everything.

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boykisserbuckley · 3 years

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- the picture of dorian gray

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boykisserbuckley · 3 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV) Characters: Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley, Christopher Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Bobby Nash Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Hurt Evan "Buck" Buckley, Concussions, delayed symptoms, Episode: s04e05 Buck Begins, Vomiting, Headaches & Migraines, Pre-Relationship, they have feelings but they don't kiss yet

Summary:

It’s quiet for a moment, quiet for two—Buck is halfway to dozing again when Eddie speaks up.

“You okay?” Eddie asks. Buck blinks his eyes back open and glances over to find Eddie dutifully watching the road, but with a tight grip on the wheel and a worried crease between his eyebrows. Buck has the sudden urge to smooth it away, somehow, but he holds back.

Eddie isn’t just asking about the headache or the exhaustion, and Buck knows that, but he’s not sure he wants to get into the rest of it right now. So he shrugs and says, “I’m fine. Hen and the doc both cleared me, remember?”

(aka: Buck is a little less fine than he realizes, in the aftermath of the factory fire.)

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