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sapphirest0nes · 5 days ago

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aww I loved this one!!

hi! I’m a new reader and I’m absolutely love your marvel fics!

i was wondering if we could do kinda of a jerk reader and bob Reynolds? Like, she’s just mean and doesn’t talk to anyone. The type of person to drink while driving during a mission? The new avengers (much more, the public), doesn’t like this attitude? And Yelena has told her many times to stay away from bob to not remind him of something; trauma issues?

So imagine his surprise when she came back into the tower, saw him crying on the balcony and just silently just sat there. He was told she was a jerk, a rude person but she was just silent, rubbing circles on his back!

If you want to add more, you can but I LOVE your angst fics so much.

thank you in advance, kisses, adria

Break The Mask ~ Robert "Bob" Reynolds

synopsis: You've stopped trying to change how people see you but then there's Bob

tw: fem!reader, reader isn't really a jerk but she acts like one, Ava sees through reader and they become friends, reader gets a cut on her hand and passes out from both blood loss and hyperventilating, reader talks about punching a man that harassed her friend, Bob might be a little OOC, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

This is my first Bob Reynolds fic, I hope I did him justice. Hi, Adria!! I'm so glad you like my Marvel fics!! Marvel was the first fandom I ever wrote for so I take pride in a lot of them!! Sending kisses back to you!!

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It's not that you liked being an asshole, it's just want people expected. At some point, it became easier to go with what they thought instead of trying to prove them wrong. The public didn't like you, one photo of you taking a drink from a suspicious can and you've suddenly been marked as a person who drinks and drives.

When you were branded a New Avenger, you saw the headlines.

Menace To Society Y/n is apart of the New Avengers? How will she be able to protect the world when she can't play nice?

You knew what the others thought of you, you didn't want to be mean. But they were all jerks to you first, not even in the way that they are with each other. They had genuine issues with you, every words slicing through your brain like a knife.

You would have thought Yelena would have been able to realize it was all a mask. But you thought wrong, "Stay away from Bob, alright? He doesn't need you being an ass and reminding him of father. Just leave him alone." The underlaying threat wasn't missed by you but you said nothing, just crossed your arms and left the room.

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You kept up the mask, the one that would fall when you were alone in your room. The one that wanted to crack just a little bit more with each harsh word thrown your way. The one that wasn't enough to keep the frown away when an insult was unwarranted.

You weren't sure when Ava started showing up in your room later in the night, but she had a peace offering each time. A plate of leftovers if you skipped dinner to avoid the others or some other snack since you would, inevitability, leave dinner early to escape the harsh words.

"Why are you being nice?" You had the courage to ask Ava one night.

"Even assholes need to properly eat," was what she told you before phasing through the wall back to her room.

That was the start of you two sitting in your room in silence, a movie playing while you ate whatever she brought you. You knew better than to risk your luck, to ask her to have the others stop with their words, but she did and that was enough.

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"You know, you aren't as high and mighty as you think you are," John casually threw at you, you paused behind the couch. No one was looking at you, but your eyes darted around the room as they slowly filled with tears.

"I don't think I'm high and mighty," was all you could throw back before leaving the common room, your shoulders tense as you heard John's last remark.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot. You know you're high and mighty," you could just hear the eye roll in his voice. Your lip quivered and your breathing started to heave but you didn't let the tears fall until you were safely in your room and under your blankets.

Ava joined you a little while later, silently slipping under your covers and awkwardly rubbing your back. You were full on sobbing and couldn't keep your feelings back anymore. "I don't want to be mean! It wasn't even an alcoholic drink, it was one of those liquid death cans," you gasped for air as you paused. "I hate hurting others, it's why I refuse to kill unless I have to. I know what it's like to have others be mean to you, why would I want people to go through that because of me?" You were looking at Ava, her face neutral like it almost always ways.

"Why do you let them be mean to you then? I'm sure if you explained everything they'd understand," Ava gently told you.

"No one believes me," you whispered, your eyes casting down to the sheets of your bed. The ones that reminded you of when you were little in your parent's bed, when you were still seen as the nice girl you knew you were.

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You noticed it before you realized you noticed it, Robert Reynolds started to stare at you. You weren't sure if it was because you spent more time by Ava instead of just leaving rooms. You weren't sure if it was because everyone also picked up on the fact that you no longer entertained their jabs and insults.

In reality, it was because Void was quiet when Bob looked at you. He wasn't entirely sure why, he had to think it was because you could throw an insult in a more effective manner than Void ever could. You could look someone in the eyes and tell them their darkest fears without blinking.

Yelena picked up on it too, she thought it was because you said something to Bob. So she waited until he wasn't in the room when you were. You were simply just in the kitchen with Ava, trying to find something to keep the hunger at bay until dinner. "Did you say something to him?" Yelena was staring at you and you scrunched your eyebrows.

"What? Who?" You asked, your eyes roaming over the others in the room, none looked particularly upset.

"Bob, did you insult him? Make him upset?" Yelena was walking closer but you vehemently shook your head.

"No, why would I?"

"Oh, I don't know because you're an ass!" Her eyes were blazing at the thought you made Bob upset. "He's always staring at you with wide eyes, like you've said something. So what did you tell him? Did you project your fears onto him? Tell him no one likes him? That you don't trust him? That you hate-" You cut Yelena off by slamming the coffee cup you were holding, the one everyone knew was your favorite after you drunkenly confessed it was your mother's, down on the counter so hard it broke. You didn't register the gasps of the others, the way Ava tried to calm you down before you got too worked up and crashed because the last thing you had from your mom was broken.

"Do you really think I would go that low? That I'm that much of an ass?" You slammed your hands back down on the counter, causing one of the shards of your cup to slice it open. You glanced down and gasped, you didn't realize you broke the cup until it was too late. Your lips wobbled and your sob broke through your throat faster than you could stop it. You barely heard the others, the concern for the blood gushing from your hand or the way you were practically suffocating yourself with the gasping breaths you were pulling in. Everything got dizzy before spinning and you hit the floor with a loud thud, one that echoed in your mind before you were out.

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You woke up a few days later, it was apparent your body needed the rest. The doctor of the med floor told you that everyone else was on a mission and you nodded. You went back up in the elevator and stopped on the common floor, your mission for food on the forefront of your mind.

You saw Bob on the balcony and you could hear his sobs. The hunt for food was forgotten and you just went to sit with him. You wanted to say something, to do something to help, so you rubbed small circles on his back. You sat close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him and could comfortably reach his back, but far enough away to not crowd him. Your eyes were trained on the cityscape ahead of you while you let Bob cry it out.

Bob, on the other hand, was confused. You were supposed to be a jerk, one that everyone told him to stay away from. One that clearly had a favorite in Ava, but here you were not like they said you would be. You were just... you? You were someone rubbing small circles on his back, offering him support without suffocating him with your presence like the others. You were the only person who could make Void quiet just by being there. You were the only one who looked at him without the underlying fear of what he could do. You were comforting him and he was realizing you weren't as mean as the others thought.

You noticed his sobs ending before he did and once they were done, you stood without a word and went to the kitchen. Bob followed silently, watching as you rummaged the fridge and grabbed a container of leftovers that Ava had been fiercely protecting and keeping for you. He wanted to show you the mug, the one he had been meticulously glueing and piecing back together for you, but he was scared to leave you. Scared that Void would come back and tell him all the hurtful things that made him cry in the first place.

You seemed to notice, you always seemed to notice everything about him. "Are you going to follow me around?" You questioned. It came out blunt and your eyes widened slightly before you continued talking. "I don't care if you do! I just would like to know beforehand," you rushed out.

"You, uh, you keep... him quiet," Bob whispered and you nodded.

"Well, ok then. Just, uh, let me use the bathroom alone, alright?" You tried to make a joke, it failed but Bob let out a small huff of a laugh in solidarity of your horrible joke.

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"I told her to leave him alone!" Yelena shouted on the plane ride home, the tablet with the tower feed in her hand. Ava looked at it and saw the small smile you had when you were relaxed on your face.

"She's not an ass, or at least not a real one," Ava spoke in your defense for the first time, finally fed up with the other's enough to go against your wishes. "She's just playing the role you all put her in, the one everyone has always put her in," Ava added on before going quiet.

"What do you mean?" Bucky spoke, his voice quiet. He had witnessed the harassment of the others but he also didn't know the full extent.

"Y/n, she hates being mean. She wasn't planning on being an ass to us but we were first. We saw her the way the public wanted us to see her. We see the mask she puts up to protect her heart, the mask that's slowly cracking because she truly believes that you all will never see her for who she really is," Ava explained, her annoyance showing in the clipped way she spoke before ripping the tablet from Yelena. Ava backed the security footage up to when you left the elevator before flipping it for everyone to see. "This is the real y/n, the one that I know," she let them watch you and Bob, let them see the real you.

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Bob really did follow you everywhere, except the time he ran off into his room after telling you to wait outside the door. He emerged with his hands behind his back and his eyes downcast. "It's... it's not perfect, and no longer usable, but," Bob held the mug out to you. You could see the cracks, the lines of glue in them. But you took it from Bob with gentle hands, your eyes tearing up.

"You fixed it?" You looked up at him and he nodded, looking away from your face. "Thank you," you whispered, pulling the mug to your chest to hold closer to your heart.

"Well, I... I know that it was your, uh, mother's, and that you're... attached to it. It's nothing," Bob shrugged but you shook your head.

"Robert, it's everything," you breathed out, missing the smile that crossed his face at his full name falling from your lips. "Come on, I'm keeping this safe in my room," you told him, reaching a hand out for his. You needed to ground yourself, to let you know that someone does care enough to do something like this for you. Bob took it without hesitation and you two walked hand in hand down to your room.

Bob took in every sight and smell of your room just in case he'd never get to be there again. You had a bookshelf along the wall perpendicular to the window with a big chair at a diagonal in the corner. It was mostly facing the TV you had on the wall across from your bed, the bed that had white sheets with little green flowers as the pattern. The rumpled white blanket pulled in a manor that allowed Bob to see the thinner light green fluffy blanket you also had. Your room smelt of you, the lavender shampoo and conditioner you used, the naturally scented body wash and the lotion you wore that smelt of dewy cassis and sheer musk. You refused to use the overhead light, going as far as keeping a remote velcroed to the wall so you could turn on your fairy lights.

"You have a nice room," Bob told you, suddenly feeling more at ease.

"Oh," it was your turn to feel nervous. "Thanks," you muttered, placing the mug on your desk that held a laptop and some sketches. Bob watched as you made sure there was a few things around the mug, as if they were a barrier, before turning to him. "I, uh, do you want to watch a movie or something?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," Bob nodded and you motioned to your unkempt bed and you both sat down on it.

That's where the team found you an hour later after getting back and changing, both of you wrapped in blankets with Jim Henson's Labyrinth playing on the TV. Ava didn't hesitate to climb into your blanket with you, her eyes trained on the TV. The others froze, you looked so at ease, your hand holding Bob's while you had a soft smile on your face while Ava curls into your side like a cat. They just slowly left the room while the three of you sat in silence watching the movie.

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At first the team thought you were trying to manipulate them, but one insult thrown your way and suddenly Bob's eyes got golden and they backed down. They expected you to use that fact to your advantage, to throw jabs and insults to them since they couldn't to you. But you would give them a greeting before scurrying off like you normally would before, just with a weak smile on your face. They noticed the smaller things you did for them, the things they never questioned before. John never seemed to run out of those super green smoothies he would drink after early morning workouts, Alexi never ran out of Wheaties, Yelena would always have those protein bars and popcorn stocked for her late night snacks.

A few weeks of you not changing, not being mean, let them know you truly were a nice person. And they finally got you to set the record straight, "Why does everyone think your an ass?" John bluntly asked. Your hand automatically reaching to land on Bob's shoulder, just knowing that his eyes were golden rimmed.

"I punched someone in public once, it was before I could control my heightened strength. He went flying across the space, he was fine though! At least physically, he had grabbed one of my friends in the park and I reacted before I thought. From then on, everything the media and public found was twisted to make me seem like the bad guy since the man I punched was influential. In truth, only one of those were real, and that was I wasn't, and I'm still not, the least bit sorry for punching him," you explained, leaving out the specifics.

You saw a bunch of emotions cross their faces, "So you're saying, everything we thought we knew was fake?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying, Walker," you nodded before getting up and leaving. You weren't ready for the rest of that conversation, you didn't want their pity or their endless apologies for judging you.

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Bob hesitated outside your door, you told him that is Void ever got too loud or if he simply couldn't sleep, your door was open. But he didn't want to wake you, it was late and you were probably asleep. What if you yelled at him and told him that you, "Bob?" Your voice broke through his thoughts. "Do you want to come in?" Bob nodded and you stepped aside, your fairy lights were off but the glow of the TV lit up the room enough to let Bob know you were alone.

"Can I just stay in here?" Bob couldn't make eye contact with you.

"Of course, come on," you gently gripped his hand and pulled him to your bed. "I'm watching Criminal Minds but I can turn it off if you want me to," you offered but Bob shook his head.

You two laid in silence for a while, the TV a low hum in the background. Your eyes stayed trained on the TV but Bob was watching you. His eyes ran over the lines of your face and watched the way your eyelashes kissed your cheeks with each blink. He realized he would watch and look at you for the rest of his life if he could. He knew he was in love with you but he wasn't sure if you were in love with him. You seemed to be more comfortable with him, but you were also comfortable with Ava. He knew he could ask you, that even if you didn't like him, you wouldn't hate him for liking you. But he was worried that you wouldn't let him be this close, to lay in bed with you lit only by the moon through the window or the TV on the wall. Bob watched the way your blinks became slower and longer, his eyes trained on the way you would try and fight it. You turned to look at him, your movements slow and smooth. "Are you tired? Cause I am but I don't want you to feel awkward staying awake while I'm sleeping," you rambled lightly, your filter falling as your brain was fighting sleep.

"Yeah, yeah, I am," he nodded slowly and your smile turned sweeter than honey.

"Ok, good night, Robert. I love you," you sighed, curling into him as your breathing evened out. Any sleep that was slowly invading Bob's mind was gone at your words, sure you two were close and you were casual about your affection, but you've never said you loved someone in the tower before.

"I love you too," Bob whispered in your hair, not wanting to not return the words. You'll have to remember it in the morning, you weren't drunk or inebriated at all.

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"Robert?" You called out as you felt the empty space next to you. You panicked as you realized you couldn't see him but then the bathroom door opened and he walked out. "Oh, thank god," you mumbled out, relaxing back into your bed at the sight of him.

"What... what's wrong?" Bob was confused, he heard you call out to him.

"I thought you left," you told him, staring at the ceiling. "I thought I scared you off last night," you added on.

"So you remember?"

"That I said I love you? Yeah, cause I do," you affirmed.

"As a friend...?"

"If that's what you want," you shrugged, trying to put your uncaring mask back into place just in case.

"No!" Bob shouted only to quiet down. "I mean, no. That's not what I want."

"So I didn't mess this up?" You questioned.

"No, you didn't," he shook his head, his curls flopping around a bit.

"Good, come back to bed. It's early, I'm tired, and I sleep the best with you next to me," you told him, opening your arms for Bob to climb in with you.

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Masterlist | Requests If you want to be added to the tag list, follow the directions on my masterlist

#robert reynolds x reader #bob reynolds #thunderbolts #bob thunderbolts

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sapphirest0nes · 15 days ago

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I want to put him in my pocket 😭

I want to take care of bucky barnes so bad. like so so bad. he consumes my every thought. I just love him so much 🥺🥺 I’d do anything for him.

look at this face and tell me you wouldn’t give him the entire world if he asked for it 🫶🏻

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sapphirest0nes · 24 days ago

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I hate to see Bucky Barnes go but I LOVE to watch him leave.

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sapphirest0nes · 27 days ago

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my friends just got me a Bucky funko pop for my birthday and I love it sm!!

SEBASTIAN STAN as BUCKY BARNES CAPTAIN AMERICA: CIVIL WAS (2016) Dir. Anthony & Joe Russo

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sapphirest0nes · 1 month ago

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this is so cute!!

Something Sweet: Roasted Hazelnuts

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x candymaker!f!Reader // platonic!Thunderbolts* x candymaker!f!Reader

Summary: When Bucky unexpectedly brought his team to your candy shop, they were caught off guard by you, surrounded by milk chocolate with roasted hazelnuts, and how you showed them the kind of warmth they all didn't believe they deserved.

(This is a side-story to Something Sweet, but can be read on its own)

Warnings: References to the Thunderbolts* members' tragic backstories. But besides that, this is all just fluff; the reader is a sweetie who just makes the team feel good about themselves.

Word Count: 6.0k

AN: Did my best to not include Thunderbolts* spoilers here...but you should still watch the film before reading! I love them so much and I need more of them NOW.

—<><>—<><>—<><>—

You popped a piece of milk chocolate with roasted hazelnuts into your mouth and practically jumped in joy. The sweet scent of cocoa and nuts filled the air, coating the walls of your kitchen in warmth. Your shop had closed hours ago, but it wasn’t a surprise to find you still in your kitchen afterward, experimenting with new recipes or making new batches of your customers’ favorites.

But for you to be there that late? That was a surprise, but with Bucky on a mission and away from home, you decided to spend a bit more time in your second home until he came back. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were distracting yourself from worrying about him; he had told you that he’d be back in roughly two or three days, but it had now been nearly a week without hearing a single thing from him. You desperately wanted to call him, but also knew any sudden, unexpected noise from his device could get him killed.

You went to cut your last batch of chocolate bark when a sudden, unexpected noise stopped you in your tracks.

Someone was knocking, but not at the front entrance or casually; the knock came from your back door in a very, very specific rhythm. You froze, setting down your knife as the knock came again, a bit louder and more urgent this time.

This noise wasn't the kind that would get you killed.

Without a second thought, you rushed to the back, fumbling with a lock before quickly opening the back door. Your breath hitched at seeing Bucky—one hand on the frame for support, his jacket torn at the sleeve, and a cut on his forehead with dried blood trailing down his skin. His breath was heavy, but his tired eyes focused on you first, scanning behind you to make sure you were safe in his presence.

Then you noticed them.

You blinked just as Yelena, Ava, John, and Alexei all blinked back at you, absolutely confused by where they were and who you were. They all looked horrible. Dirt smudged, blood stains, tears in their outfits, disheveled hair—everything. You stared for a moment longer before slowly looking back at your boyfriend.

“Uh… Bucky?” you said, concluding that this was certainly one way for his team to finally learn about your existence.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice scratchy as if he had been running for days. “We didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

Your eyes softened as you instinctively put a hand on his cheek, getting a perplexed and dumbfounded expression from the others. Every part of you wanted to cry from seeing your love so exhausted and hurt, but you knew that a bit of optimism and laughter also lifted the mood.

So, you smiled at him, your eyebrows slightly furrowed from sorrow. “No, it’s okay. Come on in. All of you, c’mon.”

They hesitated but followed Bucky into the door as you waved them in, looking side to side to make sure no one was behind them, just like how you were taught after you and Bucky became official. As they all trailed in, they looked around and raised an eyebrow or two at the copper pots, chocolate barks, and sugary scent in the air.

This place was too warm for the kind of people they all were.

With a bloody lip, Yelena glanced at you before whispering, “Who’s that?”

“I don’t know,” John muttered back, his ankle swelling and wrist aching. “Maybe it’s his sister or something.”

“Given Bucky’s history,” Ava exhaled at John’s suggestion and the pain in her shoulder, “do you honestly think he’d have a sister that young?”

“You know I can hear you, right?” Bucky turned to them with a glare, ending their conversation.

He didn't know what was more frustrating: the fact that they were whispering about you as if you weren’t right there, or that it seemed more possible to John that you were his sister than his lovely partner.

Before Alexei could break the awkward silence—as he always did—you gave a soft laugh that made the room feel lighter. “I’ll grab some bandages. One second.”

You walked away to the back room while the others continued to look around, exchanging glances with each other and peeking at Bucky, who stood off to the side with his arms crossed, absolutely unfazed. Yelena stepped around, examining the chocolate-covered knives and crumbs of hazelnuts scattered on the countertops before her eyes landed on the curtained windows into the front of the dark shop. Curious, she leaned over and peeked through the slit in the fabric.

For a moment, she was quiet, but then she let out a breath. “Whoa…”

It was enough to get the others’ attention, prompting them to try to look through the slits as well. In the dim light, they could only make out faint outlines of jars and glass cases, but it was clear that they all contained sweets of all kinds. Even in the darkness, they could all feel there was a sense of magic in your shop. Even Bucky found himself amused as he watched his team try to figure out the exact scenery of your shop.

You stepped back in and paused, noticing all of them trying to get a better look into your shop. With a soft giggle, you continued, alerting the four to immediately act like they weren’t enchanted by their surroundings. You set down the medical kit in front of Bucky, which was full of bandages, antiseptic, and gauze. It wasn’t enough, but it would do its job and protect most of their wounds from infections.

“Remind me to get better medical supplies. More appropriate for what you go through,” you said to Bucky with a teasing smile as you walked away, stepping past all of them before reaching the door to the rest of your shop.

Everyone but Bucky was confused by where you were going but then widened their eyes when you slid the curtains open and flipped the light switches on. The warm light reflected off the dark walnut shelves and counters, making the colorful candies in the glass jars pop even brighter. The main countertop with the register was accompanied by a curved glass display, protecting rows and rows of chocolate and brittles, leaving a space for where dipped fruits would be.

All of them stared in the shop, dumbfounded by the amount of comfort they felt just from candy. Eventually, John turned toward you with a raised eyebrow. “Just who the hell are you?”

Bucky scowled, a threat ready to slip from his lips for talking to you that way, but you immediately cut the sharpness in the air with a laugh.

“Me?” You shrugged with a smirk while the rest of them turned their attention toward you. “I’m just a random candy-maker.”

John blinked. Yelena and Ava slowly began to smirk with you, and Alexei was already smiling brightly at the way you teased him.

“You—” John frowned further. “You’re just a—”

“Lollipop?”

He froze, staring at the blue raspberry lollipop you pulled out from…actually, no one knew where. Even Bucky didn’t know where you suddenly got the lollipop, but the so-called ‘innocent’ smile on your face almost made him howl with laughter.

Alexei took his place, breaking into the loudest laughs while Yelena and Ava grinned at you. The whiplash of discovering you and processing your soft and sweet presence was overwhelming, but it completely disarmed them. They were used to getting disarmed amid danger—getting their knives kicked out of their hands or running out of bullets—but this was different.

Even though you threatened to break John’s stoicism, nothing about you felt threatening. You felt…comforting like you were made up of warm, welcoming hugs.

John couldn’t even get mad at you. Instead, he cleared his throat while looking away, his ears turning red. “I’m good.”

Yelena snorted. “I like this one,” she said, nodding at you.

You giggled. “Thanks! I like you, too.”

The blonde woman smiled at you again as you nudged the medical kit towards Bucky. He glanced at it briefly before pushing it away, sliding it to Ava on the other end of the countertop, silently telling them to tend to their wounds first. He crossed his arms again while you watched them slightly hesitate before grabbing the necessary supplies for their injuries, showing that it wasn’t the first time Bucky had prioritized them over himself.

But unlike him, you did, and no matter how unbothered Bucky tried to look, he couldn’t hide from you the way he leaned on one side and crossed his arms tightly to support his own body. You desperately wanted him to sit down, but knew he would hate revealing his fragility to the rest of the team when the last thing they needed was someone else to worry about.

So you just placed a hand on his lower back, smiling at him when he looked at you. His lips curled as well, and the softness you missed seeing in his eyes returned. He let out a small breath and dug into his pocket, soon pulling out a metal case that got your head tilting.

“What’s this?” you asked as he carefully set it down on the counter.

“The answer to our problem,” he replied, inhaling sharply to hide the throbbing pain in his side. “There’s an encryption key inside that will override this weapon we’ve been trying to stop. If we don't in time, then thousands are going to die.”

You gulped, looking back at the case. “Then…why haven’t you opened it yet?”

“We might destroy it.”

You looked up, locking eyes with Ava, who had finished wrapping gauze around Yelena’s forearm. Briefly, your bubbly nature made the former S.H.I.E.L.D. operative flustered, but she continued speaking, “That case was built with a specific kind of metal. It’s…just tough enough that Yelena and I can’t pry it open.”

“And just fragile enough that our super-soldier-idiots here—” Yelena glared at Alexei and John, “—would crush the whole thing if they tried.”

“Hey!” Alexei looked severely offended as he threw his hands up. “I could totally get it open, no problem!”

“I could, too,” John muttered.

“No, you two could not,” Ava sighed, pinching her eyebrows together. “Alexei, you broke that bathtub the other day—”

“It was a weak bathtub!”

You blinked before looking at Bucky, who just shrugged. “They’re right. I know my strength. But I’m not an idiot.”

Before their bickering could get worse—and man, Bucky was not joking when he told you that they bickered—you lightly chuckled and stepped toward the case. “Can I try?”

Everyone went silent.

John frowned, uncrossing his arms as he stepped forward. “You?”

“Yeah, me.” You raised an eyebrow with an amused smile. “Why? Think I’m just some helpless damsel?”

“Oh, shit— That’s not what I meant—”

You just laughed again, shaking your head. “I know, John. I know. I’m just teasing you.”

Bucky then stepped beside you, his hand finding its place on your back as he furrowed his eyebrows. “What are you thinking of?” he asked, his voice tinted with worry for you.

“Well…” you grinned at him, letting him know that he doesn’t have to panic over you immediately. “I’m assuming whoever it is you’re trying to stop knows they’re dealing with you all, right? So they would design this thinking your first and only idea is to break it open.”

“What? No.” Alexei shook his head. “We tried other methods. Like… Like… Huh…” he paused. “Never mind.”

You chuckled, reaching for the metal case when Bucky grabbed your wrist in a rush. The others flinched, startled by how overprotective he suddenly got, as if you had him wrapped around your finger. But you looked up at him, giving him another smile before tilting your head at the case.

“I’ll be fine. You got me,” you said softly with so much love in your eyes that he bit his lips.

The others couldn’t even tease him. You were unlike anyone they had come across; most people would be tense or cautious around them, immediately deciding for themselves that they were dangerous or broken people thrown into the roles of heroes. But you just smiled at them—quick to tease them and treat them like people.

Not a vicious Black Widow, or a disappointing Captain America, or a fading Ghost, or a forgotten Soviet hero.

Just people.

Little did they know, you had treated the man next to you the same when he first walked into your shop. Not the merciless Winter Soldier—just James Bucky Barnes.

And it was James Bucky Barnes who let go of your wrist, watching you carefully pick up the metal case and examine it. It was heavier than you thought, and you turned it over to inspect the seams. You lightly hummed, seeing that the seams were indeed constructed in a way that if Bucky tried to pry it open, the whole case would bend in his hand.

You glanced around, spotting one of your favorites, and smiled. “I have an idea… I think heat might work.”

“Heat?” Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“I just have a gut feeling. I work with metal surfaces all the time. So the real question is,” you looked at the team with confidence, “do you all trust me with torching this?”

Trust.

For years, each one of them had fought for trust. To be trusted by family, friends, and the public, only to lose them due to terrible mistakes. They all had their loved ones disappear—watching them walk out the front door, get vaporized in a blast, and reappear but only as a tombstone. They had tried to earn their trust and gotten it briefly, but their actions had drawn a line between them and those they loved, and rather than erasing the line, they caused the erasure of their presence. Gone forever, because they couldn’t hold onto them strongly enough.

And yet, there you were, asking them if they trusted you to help them.

You blinked, deeply watching all of their eyes waver at your question. Your heart stung, reminding you of those days when Bucky couldn’t believe you were asking for his approval instead of it being the other way around. But you didn’t let that show, and just smiled gently while tapping the case.

“Yes? No?” you said.

Yelena nodded for them all, putting on a mask once again. “I don’t see how it could hurt. You seem reliable enough.”

You snorted as you reached into one of the drawers, pulling out a butane torch. “Hope I won’t disappoint you.”

The flame shot out of the torch when you clicked it on, and you slowly guided it along the seam of the metal case, positioning the torch afar and never lingering in one place for too long. Considering the object you were burning carried a key that literally would save the lives of thousands, you had every right to go as slow as possible, so no one said a word as you calmly worked. To the four of them, you looked too calm for the task you were executing, but Bucky knew you weren’t the type to panic, even in the most overwhelming situations.

That said, he still stood behind you, his hand still on your back as if he was supporting the weight of the tool in your hand. He didn’t interrupt you—he trusted you too much to do that, but that didn’t stop him from worrying about unexpected events. What if the case was a trap and you were unlocking something dangerous? Something that could harm you in an instant, which is why he kept his metal arm right by you, ready to block any incoming attack.

The love he had for you burned hotter than the fire you used to melt the edges of the case, motivating you to keep working with ease. Soon, when you noticed that the edges of the cases looked soft, you turned off the torch and reached for your metal tongs and offset spatula. Using the tongs to hold the bulk of the case down on the metal counter, you carefully wriggled the spatula into the seam, relieved to feel that the metal had softened all the way. Then, as precisely as possible, you bent the spatula up and up and—

The case cracked open, just slightly, but it still cracked open.

You smiled as you tilted the tool further up, opening the gap until both you and Bucky could see a small chip inside—delicate, yet powerful enough to save the world, just like you. You spun the case around so the rest of the group could see your work, and when you set your tools down, you looked up to see the stunned expression of all of them.

You snickered and turned to Yelena. “I didn’t disappoint you, right?”

Yelena raised an eyebrow, but a grin slowly appeared on her face. “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” Alexei scoffed at his daughter. “That was pretty great! A true sign of a hero in the making.”

You gently laughed. “A hero with a small torch and an offset spatula?”

“YES!” Alexei clapped so loud that you swore the windows rattled. “A hero with torch and blade! We can call you TORCH! Or…you are human so…HUMAN TOR—”

“Oh my god, lower your voice!” Yelena slammed her foot down. “You’re so annoying!”

You playfully rolled your eyes and stepped back to speak to Bucky, but something else caught your eye. Behind the arguing father-and-daughter duo, Ava had begun to focus on your tray of chocolate bark, the smell of the roasted nuts entrancing her. There was a particular look in her eyes that you’d often picked up from other customers—a sense of longing for something simple and happy.

With a soft exhale, you walked towards Ava, who quickly straightened up with her usual impassive look. But when you grabbed the tray and held it to her, her poker face immediately disappeared, knowing she had been caught in the act.

She shifted, stuttering, “I, uh—”

“Go ahead.” You then gave her a bright smile. “Something to pick you up.”

She paused, refusing to make eye contact with anyone else but you—she could already feel John’s eyebrows judging her. But still, Ava took a piece and threw it in her mouth just as you turned away, letting her have a quiet moment. And even though she was silent and still, you could still hear the way the chocolate bark broke down her walls, crumbling apart as the sugar melted away the bitterness she’d been trying to escape from.

Clearly, the others noticed her posture change, because Alexei swiftly stepped towards you. “Wait, I want one—”

You had already offered the tray to him with a laugh, getting him to smile so wide as he plucked the treat into his mouth. Then, in the corner of your eye, you saw Yelena and John walk over, both trying to look disinterested, but nothing could get past you. When the last two took a piece, you set the tray down and watched all of them doing their best to act like your creation wasn’t warming their souls.

Bucky, with his arms crossed as he leaned against the counters, observed all of them just…be people. People who were simply enjoying candy late at night, as any other person would. He looked at you and softly smiled, feeling so much pride for the lovely person who had done it again: heal some wounds through sweetness.

It was why he fell in love with you.

With a giggle, you glanced at your shop and gestured toward it. “You’re all welcome to get some treats. It’d be nice to have something sweet to snack on before you go back to…whoever you’re fighting.”

All four of them looked up, all dumbfounded by your offer.

“Why?” Ava couldn’t help but ask, shifting slightly on her feet as she struggled to look at you.

You simply smiled with a shrug. “Because it’s nice to have candy around?”

“You are right. Absolutely correct,” Alexei agreed and instantly jogged into the shop before anyone else could stop him.

Yelena sighed and followed him, though her lips did curl slightly. Ava and John exchanged glances before following them, finally leaving you alone with your boyfriend. You walked backward, making sure none of them were staring into the windows before turning around and—

You immediately giggled into Bucky’s lips, melting underneath his presence as he held your face firmly. You tilted your head to deepen the kiss, and you could feel a lot of the tension in his shoulders vanish. Then, when he pulled away, he glanced up to double-check that no one was watching before fondly smiling at you. All of the sternness in his posture and darkness in his eyes had faded, as you were the only one who could light up his world.

“Hi, honey,” he whispered as if you hadn’t been right next to him the entire time.

Another giggle escaped your throat. “Hi, sweetheart. Can you sit down for me, please?”

He hummed, pulling a stool over as you dug through the medical kit. When he finally sat down, he hissed and grabbed at his side again, causing you to cup his face in extreme worry. But he just let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head at you to say he was okay.

That still didn’t stop your worry. “What’s wrong?” you softly asked, gently placing a hand on his side.

“Ribs. Can’t tell if they’re fractured or bruised. Either way, they hurt like hell.”

You sighed, kissing his temple before turning your attention back to the medical kit. “Do I want to know how you got that?”

“Probably not.” He then looked through the window, seeing his teammates on a scavenger hunt for their favorite candy. “You turned them into children.”

“Is that a bad thing?” you asked as you carefully cleaned the cut on his forehead.

“I don’t know. We’re supposed to be saving Manhattan right now.”

“It’s always Manhattan,” you murmured, making him grin. “I think a couple of kids could save a city like that.”

“Even when they’re fighting with each other all the time?”

“You and Sam used to fight all the time, but you still stopped the Flag Breakers.”

“Smashers.”

“Still a dumb name.”

Bucky chuckled as you placed gauze over his wound, your fingers light as you grabbed the roll of tape. But then you paused, realizing that you couldn’t rip a piece off without letting go of the gauze. You pursed your lips, and when Bucky watched your face change, he chuckled before taking the tape from you and starting to rip pieces off.

You giggled, taking a piece to put over the gauze. “When do you think you’ll be done with the mission?”

“Hopefully in the next few days. If not, half the city might be gone.”

Widening your eyes, you paused to look at him. “I thought this was supposed to be a simple mission?”

“It was…until it wasn’t.” He frowned. “Things are bad right now. We…we had a pretty close call and barely got out of that warehouse before it exploded.”

“Oh…” You sighed, putting the last piece of tape on his forehead. “I don’t like that at all. I…I can’t wait for you to come back home.”

“Me too.”

You gently smoothed over the tape and let your hand linger on the gauze. Then slowly, you leaned down, giving his forehead a soft kiss. Bucky’s eyes fluttered closed, his lips curling at your warmth, and he looked up at you when you pulled away with that golden smile that he fell in love with.

“All done,” you whispered, cupping his face.

He hummed. “Feels a lot better already.” Then he glanced at his team, who were now bickering over which kind of gummy candy was the best. “Sorry about bringing them here.”

You shook your head as you went to organize the medical kit. “Don’t be. I’m just glad I could help, and it’s fun to see them learn about us. Although…” You raised an eyebrow, tickled. “It’s crazy that John thought we were siblings.”

Bucky sighed. “He’s a little slow.”

“I remember you told me that, but…that slow?”

“Slow what?”

You both looked up to see John walking back in with the rest of the team, all holding a bag of sweets that suited their character. John’s and Ava’s weren’t too full, though the former’s bag was crumpled while the latter’s was neatly folded. Yelena’s bag was half-full with the top rolled into her fist and Alexei…

Bucky blinked, staring at the three bags filled to the brim in his hands as if he had won a prize. Slowly, his eyes darkened while yours widened at the sight. Your lips already itched to curl into an amused smile at the sight of the bags and knowing that your boyfriend was furious.

“Alexei. What the fuck,” Bucky said, his voice low as he slowly stood up.

The soldier suddenly felt like a target had landed on his chest, and he quickly put the bags behind his back. “What? I did nothing.”

Bucky’s glare only for worse, making Alexei sweat and give him a nervous laugh. But then your laughter broke the tension once again as you tilted your head. “You really went all out, huh?”

Your boyfriend then turned to you, his eyes immediately losing their darkness when they landed on you. “Sorry.”

“No worries.” You squeezed his arm before walking to the metal case. “I did offer, didn’t I? You all deserve a little treat while you’re out there again.”

You picked up the case, now cooled, and gently jiggled the encryption key out of it. With a satisfied grin, you handed it to Bucky, who took it carefully and examined it.

“Alright,” Ava nodded at him, “looks like we can finally do our job.”

“Yeah.” Bucky put the key into one of his belt pouches and gestured to the back door. “Time to go.”

Your heart slightly ached as you followed them to the door, watching him trail out of your kitchen and into the dark. Yelena glanced at you and nodded, John raised a hand awkwardly, Ava softly said her thank-you, and Alexei tapped you on the shoulder as he passed you, smiling brightly with his bags of sweets. You chuckled as they all exited and turned the corner, then turned to Bucky with a soft smile, drenched in so much love and yet so much worry.

“Please be careful,” you said.

“I’m trying,” he teased, smiling when he managed to make you giggle. “I really am.”

“I know.” You wrapped your arms carefully around him, being aware of his injured side, while you whispered into his shoulder, “I just need you to come home.”

You heard Bucky’s breath hitch, but it wasn’t caused by his injuries. He hugged you back, cradling your head as he quietly exhaled. “I will. I promise.”

“Don’t make empty promises—”

“I’m not.” Bucky pulled away and firmly placed his hand on your cheek, his eyes sharp as he gazed at you. “I’m coming home.”

Your lips went ajar, and before you could respond, the gap was filled with Bucky’s lips. You closed your eyes, letting him pull you closer however he’d like. He smiled into your lips, tasting a little bit of hazelnut as he finally broke the kiss.

You grinned, swiping his hair behind his ear. “Good. I’ll make you all your favorites when you come home.”

He chuckled. “You already do, though.”

“Yeah,” you huffed out a laugh, “I guess I do, huh?”

With a giggle, you two kissed one more time. Then you pulled away, placing a hand on his lower back as you led him to the back door. When your hand slipped from his body as he stepped out, you looked out and met the gaze of his team.

You smiled, giving them all a little wave. “Good luck out there.”

They all nodded—except for Alexei, who waved widely back at you—and turned into the darkness. Bucky followed them but glanced behind his shoulder one more time to look at you. Then he disappeared into the shadows, and you stepped back into your shop.

When you closed the door and locked it, you leaned your forehead against it with your eyes shut. The quietness returned, though it was lightly interrupted by your rapid heartbeat as you exhaled.

“Please come home safe,” you muttered.

After a beat, you stood up straight and faced your countertops, examining the loose gauze and bandages scattered around right beside the torch you had just used. With a soft breath, you smiled as you began to clean up, eager to wipe down the surfaces and wash your hands before you finished cutting up your last of the chocolate barks.

<><><>

“Thank you. Come again!” You waved at your customers as they stepped out of your shop.

The sun gleamed brightly into your shop, helping illuminate all the sweetness around to bring a familiar sense of comfort into your surroundings. You picked up the random wrapper from the counter and tossed it into the trash can, focused on making your shop as clean as possible before the next customers came in. After a glance at your spotless floor and glass displays without a trace of fingerprint on them, you smiled and settled back behind the cash register again. You shut your eyes, softly inhaling to let the sweet scent of sugar relax your shoulders, and exhaled when you felt your heart leap in joy.

Then you heard the door knob jiggle open, and when you looked up, your heart began to do somersaults in your chest from further excitement. Your smile bloomed more as Bucky stepped in with the familiar group of misfits, a soft smile already plastered on his face.

You walked away from the counter, lightly jogging over to them all. “Welcome back!” you said as you glanced over all of them quickly. “You all don’t look so bad this time.”

“Well, things went well this time,” Bucky replied while the others nodded. “Manhattan’s gonna be alright now.”

A wave of relief surged through your chest. “Really? That’s great.”

“Yeah, but we couldn’t have done it without that key,” Yelena said, smiling lightly at you with a healing lip. “So, thanks, you know.”

You giggled. “Anytime. If you ever need something else to be burned, let me know.”

“Careful. We might call you more often than you think.”

You shrugged. “I’d welcome it.”

Yelena chuckled before stepping back towards Alexei and nudging him against his side. You watched as the tall man stepped toward you, looking a little red in his face as he scratched the back of his head.

“Uh…” He glanced back at his daughter, who only stared at him pointedly. “I brought money this time.”

You blinked, slowly processing his words before you let out a laugh. “Yeah? Enough to pay me back for the other night or….”

“Enough for anything,” he responded, fidgeting with his hands like a little boy who got in trouble with his teachers.

With another snicker, you shook your head. “Don’t worry about that. I did offer you.” You glanced at Yelena, who looked a bit more satisfied with her father’s actions. “Tell you what, you’re welcome to take more sweets, but you’ll have to pay from now on. I have ingredients to pay for, you know?”

“That’s fair.”

“I’ll give you a discount, though.”

Alexei beamed instantly, clapping his hands together. “You are the BEST! Yelena, come on—” he grabbed her arm before she had a chance to step away, “—we shall pick our PRIZE TOGETHER!”

Yelena groaned, unable to stop him from dragging her to the jars of gummy, but you swore you saw the corner of her lips twitch into a smile. You giggled just as Ava approached you quietly.

“Thanks for your help, again,” she said.

You hummed. “Anytime.”

She nodded, though you could see some stiffness in her shoulders. The former operative glanced into your shop before her breath hitched. “Do you…have anything that tastes…like…peaches?”

A smile crept back onto your lips, warm enough that it loosened the tension in Ava’s posture. You pointed at one of the shelves. “Peach rings. On the third shelf.”

Ava gave you a quiet nod before walking towards the shelf—she didn’t have to say a word for you to know that there was a deeper history behind her and peaches. Maybe one day, she would tell you all about how she used to enjoy peach-flavored candies with her parents before she had lost them on that tragic day. Until then, you would stay quiet.

Then you looked over at John, who stood there awkwardly with his arms crossed.

Before he could say a word, you reached into your pocket and pulled out a blue raspberry lollipop.

John blinked before groaning. “You gotta stop doing that.”

“I will if you take it,” you teased.

He sighed before stepping away from you. “I’m gonna look at the chocolate.”

“Don’t get lost now,” Bucky then said, receiving a glare from the other super-soldier before he walked away.

You laughed quietly with your boyfriend before looking at the front door, spotting one last person in this strange team. Your laughter stopped as you noticed how he looked nothing like the others, who all wore uniforms and suits to protect themselves in battle. This man, on the other hand, wore a loose hoodie and sweatpants, carrying a gentle posture with wide blue eyes that held so much curiosity and something buried—something he was always anxious to address without the help of others.

He looked just as Bucky described him to you.

You smiled as you gently approached him. “Hi,” you quietly said, offering your hand. “We haven’t met before.”

“N-No.” Bob took your hand with a boyish grin. “We haven’t.”

You hummed before pointing to the rest of the shop. “You weren’t here with the others last time. I gave them all some sweets for free. Go ahead and take a bag for yourself, too.”

“Really?”

“Really.” You smiled. “Go on.”

Bob stared at you before peeking at the other four, all roaming around the candies. Then he slowly gave you another smile before walking away. “Okay.”

And as he made his way to Yelena’s side, you concluded that he would be your favorite out of all of them.

Well, second-favorite, as your all-time favorite joined you at your side. You looked up as Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer with a smile. Then, when you leaned up and kissed him on his cheek, his lips curled even more. He didn’t even care anymore if the others saw him this affectionate towards you—you deserved all the love in the world.

“I told you I’d come home,” he whispered to you.

You giggled, setting a hand on his chest. “You kept your promise. Now, I gotta make you all of your favorites.”

“You already do that.”

“I’m very aware. I just want to do it more for you.”

Bucky chuckled as you leaned your head against his shoulder, and you two watched the peculiar group explore your shop with a childlike wonder, hands picking out sweets to give them the comfort of safety, exactly like Bucky had when he first found you in this shop.

Perhaps, what every single one of them needed, after experiencing so much loss and pain in their lives, was someone who could see them for who they really were.

Something sweet, and something human.

—<><>—<><>—<><>—

Thanks for reading :)

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sapphirest0nes · 1 month ago

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this made me cry it’s so good 😭

Bob Reynolds X GN! Reader: Two broken souls, one mended heart.

A/n: idk what anyone says thunderbolts fucking ruled, i cried like a baby. Bob is such an angel i love him.

Warnings: angsty, fluff, happy ending, mental heath talk, my horrible story about the sun and moon (guys i thought it was a good metaphor 😩), bob being bob, gn reader, no use of y/n.

Word count: 1,4K

Bob is sitting on his bed in the Watchtower—but at the same time, he's not. He’s there, physically anyway, but his mind is somewhere else. He can feel it simmering beneath his skin.

The darkness.

He wills himself to forget it. Wills himself to keep it in, even though he knows this is only a temporary solution. It will consume him again. It’s only a matter of time.

You are nothing.

Bob believes it. The voice in his head—the one that has always been there and perhaps always will be. He knows he shouldn’t listen. Knows that Yelena is right. But it gnaws at him all the same. He takes a deep breath and opens his eyes. His fists are solid emptiness. He stares at them for a while. The ink has stopped spreading on his wrist. He closes his eyes again and focuses, trying to will the darkness away.

That’s when he feels something touch his shoulder.

“Bob?”

The word leaves your mouth just as you’re pulled into your shame room. You’ve gotten used to it now.The first time it happened, your heart raced so badly you thought you’d die right there. But after going into the void to rescue Bob, you stopped fearing your shame.There’s nothing you can do to save yourself in these moments, so you let the scene unfold, calling out for him instead.

In a flash, you’re back at the tower. Your butt hits the floor hard. Bob is standing there, hands inky and outstretched. He shoved you—not because he didn’t want you to touch him, but because he knew what it would do to you.

“I’m sorry.”

He moves to lift you up, stopping when he notices your eyes on his hands. You aren’t looking at him with judgment—but his brain tells him to shrink away, so he does. He stuffs his hands into his pockets and takes a step back. You notice the shift immediately.

“Don’t apologize. I know why you did it.”

You use his bed to pull yourself up. Bob keeps his distance. He watches you like a frightened animal, and that nearly breaks you. No matter how much kindness you show him, no matter how much acceptance—you know a part of him will always want to self-destruct. You take a slow breath, forcing down the tears threatening to fall. You raise your palms toward him.

“Let me see.”

Bob shakes his head, avoiding your gaze. You sigh and sit on his bed.

“I want to help. Will you let me?”

Bob opens his mouth, but you cut him off gently.

“Please, Bob.”

The way you speak—so softly, yet full of pain—makes his shoulders sag. He walks towards you and sits beside you. You give him a small, reassuring smile.

“Thank you. Show them to me.”

“I’ll hurt you.”

“Oh, my sweet boy.”

You place a hand on his cheek. Before he can flinch away, you speak again:

“You could never hurt me.”

Bob leans into your touch, eyes closing as your thumb brushes away a tear that slips down his cheek.

“Shh. It’s okay. Let me help.”

Bob pulls his hands from his pockets, letting you take them. The darkness hasn’t spread far this time so it won't be hard to make it go away.

“Have I ever told you the story of the Sun and the Moon?”

Your fingers move lightly over Bob’s palms as you wait for his answer. You can feel his eyes on you, but you keep your gaze focused on his hands.

“I don’t think so.”

“Really? Huh. I could’ve sworn I had... Doesn’t matter. I’ll tell you now.”

You lift your gaze to meet his. He stares at you, lips slightly pouty.

“How does that sound?”

“Sounds good.”

“Okay. It’s been a while since I’ve told it, so forgive me if I’m a bit rusty.”

Bob shrugs, a silent go-ahead.

“So... there was once the Sun and the Moon. And the Sun always thought he was better than the Moon. People loved the day—when he was out, they’d go to parks and laugh and live. But when the Sun disappeared and the Moon rose, people would hide in their homes and sleep. The Moon started to think she wasn’t good enough. That no one wanted her. So one day, she simply stopped coming out.”

Bob’s brow furrows, but he stays quiet.

“When the time came for the Sun to go and the Moon to rise, the sky remained empty. The Sun found it strange, but being the egotist he was, he thought, ‘Finally—I get to shine forever.’ At first, people were thrilled. They stayed up late, enjoying the never-ending brightness.”

You pause, making sure Bob is still with you. He is. His eyes are locked on yours.

“But after a while, the constant light started to hurt. People were tired. They couldn’t sleep. The heat became unbearable. So they stayed inside. They hid—from the Sun. And for the first time, the Sun felt... unwanted.”

You gently rub a circle into Bob’s palm.

“Eventually, the Sun searched for the Moon. He found her, hiding on a nearby planet. He said, ‘You have to come out.’ And she asked, ‘Why? People don’t want me.’ But he told her, ‘They need you. They finally understand.’”

Bob leans in slightly, eyes wide and soft.

“The Moon didn’t believe him. But she agreed. She stepped into the sky, bracing for silence—for the usual loneliness. But this time, she was met with celebration. People cheered. Danced. Laughed. And she turned to the Sun and asked, ‘Why?’ He said, ‘They only learned to appreciate the light after living through the dark. They know now—we both matter.’”

You swallow, your throat dry, but you push on.

“Do you get what I’m trying to say?”

“That the Sun’s a jerk?”

You laugh, and it breaks some of the weight in the air.

“No... it’s about balance. You can’t be perfect all the time. Sometimes, you have to sit in the darkness and accept it’s there. Only then can you find a way to bring back the light.”

You raise Bob’s hands so he can see them. The inky blackness is gone. He stares, then looks at you with a shy, almost embarrassed smile. You smile back, wider—grinning now.

“Thanks. You always seem to know what to do to help.”

You let out a heavy sigh. “It’s easier when it’s for others, you know? It’s hard when you have to help yourself.”

Bob notices the sudden tension in your body. He hadn’t seen it when you walked in—too focused on his own problems to realize you were struggling too.

“Hey.”

He places a hand on your wrist, causing you to look up from your lap.

“You’re not alone. If you need help, you can ask me. I know a thing or two about feeling powerless.”

He gives you a small smile—meant to be a little funny, but sincere all the same. You’d been pushing the tears down all day, but in that moment—sitting on Bob’s bed, his hand warm against your skin—you finally allow yourself to feel the sadness. You let it wash over you, releasing the tears you’d kept hidden. Before either of you can think, Bob is pulling you into his chest. He wraps his arms around you, cradling your head gently as you sob into his neck.

“Today was a bad day?” he asks softly.

You nod against his skin, your crying slowly easing as you let out another sigh. Bob doesn’t let you pull away, even when your body stops shaking with sobs.He holds you close, surrounding you in a quiet, wordless comfort.

You manage to lift your head off his shoulder, coming face to face with him.

“Thank you, Bob. I needed that hug more than I realized.”

“Happy to help.”

Bob chews the inside of his cheek, clearly lost in thought. You raise your eyebrows at him.

“What’s going on in there?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I was just thinking maybe we could… I don’t know. Maybe we could be each other’s shoulder to lean on.”

He looks at you with a worried expression, afraid you’ll find his words silly or strange—but you just smile at him, gently brushing a piece of hair out of his eyes.

“I’d like that, Bob.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

He grins, arms tightening around you.

“You think we can stay like this a bit longer? It helps me too.”

“Of course. We can stay like this as long as you want.”

With that, the two of you settle onto the bed, bodies curled into one another in quiet comfort. You weren’t perfect—and not every day would be easy. But you had each other. And in the end, that was all you needed.

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sapphirest0nes · 1 month ago

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omg this was so good!! 🫶🏻

I Love You, I’m Sorry (Eddie Diaz) 𓍯 ִ⋆.˚ 💋ྀིྀི ⋆

“Eddie, loving someone doesn’t mean they’re going to leave you. You’ve lived like the next loss is always around the corner, but she wasn’t trying to go anywhere. You pushed her out.” . ݁₊ 🩸⊹ . ݁💉˖ . ݁

Synopsis: You and Eddie have always shared something deeper than friendship — an unspoken connection that lingers in every glance, every laugh, every brush of a hand. But when Eddie realizes just how much power you hold over his heart, fear sets in. He pulls away, leaving you confused and heartbroken. When you confront him, he denies everything, leaving you shattered. As time passes, it becomes clear to everyone around you that you’re both falling apart without each other. Eventually, it takes a push — maybe from Buck — for Eddie to finally confront the truth he’s been running from: he’s always loved you, and he may have already lost his chance.

Genre: Romance, Angst, Slowburn, Mutual Pining, Fluff

AU: None

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Afab!Reader

Warnings: Eddie’s an asshole but he didn’t mean to bc he runs away from his problems (😭)

Note: This was a request from my inbox (in my ask box tag) and I thought the plot was super interesting since it falls right into the genre of fics that I produce. Thank you to the anon who gave me a whole run down on the story! Happy reading and as always, every like + reblog and comment is highly appreciated.

There’s always been something quietly comfortable about being around Eddie.

You’re not sure when it started — the ease, the intimacy, the way your lives naturally bled into each other — but at some point, it became second nature.

His house was your second home. Christopher knew your coffee order and your favorite snacks. You knew which cabinet Eddie kept his aspirin in and which way the bathroom door creaked if you didn’t close it properly.

He never had to ask you to stay longer when you were over; your presence was a given.

You brought takeout on your nights off and folded his laundry when he forgot it in the dryer. He poured you a glass of wine after long shifts and let you steal his hoodie when it was late and you didn’t feel like going home.

There were no declarations. No spoken rules. Just the quiet way he always looked for you in a room, how he made sure to pour your coffee just the way you liked it — two sugars, no cream — or how his shoulder would graze yours when you walked side by side, like it couldn’t help but lean in your direction.

It wasn’t romantic. Not officially.

But God, if it didn’t feel like the most real thing in your life.

Sometimes he’d sit beside you on the couch, a little too close, and your thighs would touch for minutes on end. Neither of you moved.

You’d both pretend not to notice, but the air between you shifted. Grew warm. Familiar. Intimate. He’d chuckle at something on TV, and you’d smile because his laughter was your favorite kind of peace.

And the glances… those glances stayed too long to be casual. Like when you’d say something in passing and he’d stare at you as if he was memorizing your words — as if they mattered more than you knew.

His gaze would dip to your lips sometimes when you weren’t speaking, and you tried to tell yourself you imagined it, but deep down, you knew better.

Everyone else saw it too.

“Okay, seriously,” Buck said one night after a shift, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. “Are you two ever going to admit you’re in love or are we all just going to die waiting?”

You rolled your eyes and laughed it off. So did Eddie.

“We’re just friends,” you both said in near-perfect unison, which only made Hen groan.

“Uh-huh. Friends,” Chimney muttered, sipping his coffee like he was watching a slow-burn rom-com unfold in real time.

“Friends who look at each other like they’re planning to die in each other’s arms.”

It was embarrassing — the way the team teased — but it was also validating in a weird, terrifying kind of way. Because you’d started to feel it too.

The shift.

The tiny changes.

It happened quietly. The way he started opening up more. How his voice softened when he talked to you, how his eyes searched yours when he wasn’t sure of himself.

The way you reached for him automatically during calls, always scanning the wreckage for each other before anything else. And maybe the moment that hit you hardest: when you caught yourself thinking about him as home. Not just his house or his presence, but Eddie.

He was home.

And that terrified you.

Because if it was real — if this thing between you was more than friendship — it meant you had everything to lose.

Still, the idea nestled in your chest and refused to leave. You thought about what it would feel like to kiss him. To wake up in his arms. To be loved by him fully and openly.

You thought about Christopher, about Sunday mornings and slow coffee and a life that maybe, just maybe, could be yours too.

But nothing was ever said.

Not out loud.

Because maybe he didn’t feel the same. Or maybe he did, and was just too afraid to say it. Either way, you weren’t sure who’d be brave enough to say it first.

But something was building between you.

You could feel it every time he looked at you like you were the center of his universe. Like he was one breath away from telling you everything.

And honestly? You were starting to wish he would.

It starts small.

A missed call here. A shorter reply there.

You don’t think anything of it at first. People get busy. Shifts get hectic. Life happens. You give him grace — because that’s what you do for people you love.

But then it starts to happen more.

He stops texting back as quickly. Your usual post-shift dinners turn into silence. The calls you used to get at 11PM — just to hear your voice before bed — go unanswered. He still smiles when he sees you at the station, still asks if you’re okay after a tough call, but it’s like he’s flicking a switch now.

Friendly. Polite. Detached.

And it hurts. It hurts like hell.

You try not to show it. You tell yourself maybe he’s going through something, that he’ll talk to you when he’s ready. Because this is Eddie — he doesn’t always know how to open the door when he’s hurting.

You’ve seen him do this before with others. But never with you.

Not like this.

One night, you knock on his door with your usual coffee order, the kind gesture that used to earn you a soft smile and a “You didn’t have to, but I’m glad you did.”

This time, when he opens the door, he looks surprised. Like he wasn’t expecting you. Like he doesn’t know how to be around you anymore.

“Oh,” he says, eyes darting behind him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you reply, holding out the drink like some kind of peace offering. “Thought you could use this.”

He hesitates, then takes it from you. “Thanks.”

You stand there for a moment. Waiting. Hoping he’ll invite you in like always. But he doesn’t move.

“Is everything okay?” you ask softly. “You’ve been… different.”

“I’ve just been tired,” he says quickly. Too quickly.

“A lot on my mind.”

You nod slowly, trying not to let the sting show. “Okay. Well… I’m here if you want to talk.”

He nods once, almost absently. “I know.”

But he doesn’t invite you in.

And that night, for the first time in months, you don’t fall asleep knowing how his day went. You don’t feel like his person anymore.

At the station, it becomes harder to ignore.

He avoids lingering too long. Doesn’t sit beside you at the kitchen table anymore. Talks to Buck and Chimney and Hen like nothing’s wrong — and maybe to them, there isn’t — but you feel the distance like a cold draft under the door.

It becomes unbearable.

And one day, when you catch him alone in the locker room, you finally say what’s been aching in your chest.

“Why are you pushing me away?”

Eddie freezes, halfway into zipping up his jacket. “I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” Your voice cracks. “You don’t answer my calls, you barely look at me when I talk to you, and I feel like I lost my best friend without even knowing what I did wrong.”

He swallows hard. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then what is it?” you demand. “Did I cross a line? Did I make you uncomfortable? Because I swear, if it’s something I said or did, I’ll—”

“It’s not you,” he interrupts, voice low, eyes finally meeting yours. “It’s me.”

You let out a shaky breath, because how cliché. “That’s not an answer, Eddie.”

He hesitates. Looks down at the floor like it might help him find the words.

“I care about you too much,” he says finally, voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart stutters. “And that’s… a bad thing?”

“It is when I don’t know what to do with it.” His eyes flash with something unspoken — pain, maybe, or guilt.

“You don’t understand what it’s like. To have someone mean so much, to love someone so much, that you start to lose your grip on everything else. That terrifies me.”

Your breath catches.

“Eddie…”

“I’ve already lost too much,” he says. “Shannon. The idea of loving someone again—loving you—and losing it? I don’t know if I could survive that.”

You step closer, heart hammering in your chest.

“You don’t have to be afraid of your feelings. I feel it too. We’re not just friends and you know it.”

His jaw tightens. “It’s all in your head.”

The words hit like a slap. You actually flinch.

“No,” you whisper, eyes burning. “Don’t do that. Don’t pretend it wasn’t real.”

“I’m not pretending. I’m telling you the truth.”

You stare at him for a long moment, waiting for him to break. To take it back. To tell you he’s lying.

But he doesn’t.

So you nod, jaw trembling, and back away.

“Okay,” you say softly. “If that’s how you really feel.”

And you walk out of the room, out of the station, out of whatever almost was between you — your heart shattering silently inside your chest.

He doesn’t follow you.

Yet, a part of him wants to.

You don’t slam the door. You don’t raise your voice. You just leave.

Quietly. With the kind of heartbreak that doesn’t need sound to be loud.

And Eddie stands there in the locker room, frozen in the hollow silence you leave behind.

Fuck, he wants to go after you. Every part of him screams to. His legs twitch like they might move on their own. His chest is tight with everything he didn’t say.

But he doesn’t.

Because if he does, he won’t be able to lie anymore.

And the truth?

The truth is you mean too much.

You got under his skin in ways no one else ever has. Not Shannon. Not Ana. Not Marisol. Not anyone.

You’re woven into the little things:

How his day feels lighter when you smile at him across the firehouse kitchen. How he sleeps better after hearing your voice. How he’s memorized the way you take your coffee, and how his hands gravitate toward you even when he’s not thinking.

How you looked at him like he was safe.

And now? Now it’s too much.

Because the last time he let someone that far in, he lost her. And the fallout nearly destroyed him — nearly destroyed Christopher.

He can’t afford that again. Not for himself. Not for his son.

Not even for you.

But God, he wants to.

He wants to tell you that he lied. That it’s not all in your head. That every night he spent distancing himself from you, he stared at his ceiling wishing he had the courage to love you out loud. That he hears your laugh when you’re not even in the room. That it’s you. It’s always been you.

But the fear is louder.

The fear says: What if it all falls apart?

What if you get tired of him? What if he’s not enough?

What if Christopher gets attached and you walk away too?

Eddie Diaz has survived fire, gunfire, and grief.

But loving you — losing you — that’s a battle he doesn’t think he’d survive.

So he lets you go.

At least for now.

At least until the ache of not having you outweighs the terror of loving you.

And as he finally slumps down on the bench, head in his hands, Eddie whispers to himself the truth he couldn’t say to your face:

“I love you.”

You’re still there.

You show up to shifts. You answer your calls. You laugh at Chim’s dumb jokes, take your turn cooking in the firehouse kitchen, and go on like nothing’s shattered.

But it has shattered.

And everyone can feel it.

Especially him.

Eddie doesn’t sit next to you anymore. Not unless the lineup forces it. And when he does, he doesn’t speak much — like your presence stings, like proximity might burn him alive.

Which is ironic, because you’re the one feeling scorched.

There’s a hole in your chest where he used to be. The silence between you is louder than the sirens that wail from the truck. It fills the kitchen, the locker room, the back of the rig, the pause before you slide into your bunk at the end of the night.

He tore the thread between you with trembling hands and didn’t have the courage to stitch it back.

And you’re left holding it, frayed and useless, wondering how the hell you’re supposed to stop loving someone who never really gave you a chance to.

Buck is the first one who notices the real damage.

He knocks on your door a week after the blowout. Shows up with Chinese takeout and a bottle of wine that he absolutely wasn’t supposed to expense, but “Chim won’t know if we drink it fast.”

He doesn’t ask what happened. He doesn’t need to.

“You can talk,” he says softly, passing you a spring roll. “Or you can just sit here and hate-watch rom-coms with me.”

You try. You really do. You sit beside him with your knees tucked to your chest, and you try to laugh at whatever stupid movie’s playing — but it cracks something open instead.

“I don’t get it,” you say, eyes fixed on the flickering TV screen. “He was right there, Buck. We were right there.”

Buck doesn’t tell you it’s okay. He doesn’t say Eddie didn’t mean it. He just nods and says, “Yeah. I know.”

Because he does know. He’s been in that liminal space between almost and never. He’s lived with a heart that wanted too much.

So he lets you cry. He sits there while your voice breaks and your mascara runs, and you tell him how much it hurts to love someone who’s too afraid to love you back.

At the station, things feel colder.

Hen pulls you into more calls than usual, always with a hand on your shoulder or a glance like, I’m here.

Chim tries to make you laugh too hard, and you let him — for their sake. Not yours. Even Bobby gives you a longer look during lineups, like he’s making sure you’re still steady on your feet.

But Eddie? Eddie’s unraveling.

He’s sharper with his words. Slower to smile. Quicker to volunteer for high-risk entries — the kind that make Buck flinch.

And Buck’s watching him, arms crossed, jaw tight, because he’s done waiting for Eddie to fix this.

“You’re miserable,” Buck snaps one night in the locker room, voice low and cutting. Eddie looks up from where he’s lacing his boots, surprised.

“What?”

“She’s miserable. You’re miserable. And for what? Because you’re scared? Because it’s easier to push her away than admit you love her?”

Eddie says nothing. Just clenches his jaw, like the truth might slip out if he lets his lips part for too long.

“You’re not protecting her,” Buck says. “You’re punishing her for making you feel something real. And you’re punishing yourself too.”

Eddie stands, tense. “It’s not that simple.”

“It is that simple,” Buck says, stepping closer.

“You’re not a scared kid anymore. You’re a man. You’re a father. You know what love looks like. You had it in front of you and you shoved it away.”

Eddie looks away. His shoulders sag. His voice is quieter now.

“I didn’t want to break her heart.”

Buck scoffs. “Well, too late. But you can still fix it. Unless you wait too long and someone else does.”

The words land like a gut punch. Someone else.

That thought had been haunting Eddie for weeks — the way Buck looked at you now with that softness, that fierce protectiveness.

He sees how you smile at Buck even through your heartbreak. And he knows — he knows — that if he doesn’t move soon, he’ll lose you for good.

Eddie doesn’t know when the house stopped feeling like home.

Maybe it was the way the sunlight pours in on Saturday mornings and doesn’t land where you used to sit on his couch, coffee in hand, laughter soft as wind.

Maybe it’s the quiet—too quiet—like something’s been vacuum-sealed from his life, and no matter how loud the world gets around him, he can’t unhear the absence of you.

Chris asked about you the other night.

“Why doesn’t she come around anymore?”

And Eddie, sitting on the edge of his son’s bed, couldn’t find a real answer. He lied, gently, the way people do when they’re trying not to bleed on the people they love.

“She’s been busy, bud. Just life stuff.”

But Chris is too smart for that. He didn’t press—he just nodded and turned to face the wall.

That silence haunted Eddie more than anything.

He finds himself at Hen and Karen’s, one of the few people who’s always seen through his best performances. He tells them he needed someone to talk to. Karen hands him tea before he even asks.

“So.” Karen folds her arms. “How long are you going to pretend you didn’t break your own heart?”

Eddie lets out a humorless laugh. “Is it that obvious?”

“To everyone but you, apparently.”

He sinks into the couch. “I just… I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“But you did,” Hen says. “And you’re hurting, too. It’s written all over you.”

“I thought if I kept some distance, it’d make it easier. Like… if I never said anything, she could walk away if she wanted. And I wouldn’t have to fall apart when she did.”

Karen’s expression softens.

“Eddie, loving someone doesn’t mean they’re going to leave you. You’ve lived like the next loss is always around the corner, but she wasn’t trying to go anywhere. You pushed her out.”

“I know,” he admits, voice raw.

“I was terrified. Of how much I loved her. Of how easy it was. And how… permanent it felt. Like once I let it in, I’d never come back from it.”

“And now?” Hen asks.

He doesn’t speak right away. He just stares at the tea cup in his hands like it holds all the answers he’s too afraid to say aloud. But eventually, the truth peels itself out of him.

“I love her,” he breathes. “God, I’m in love with her.”

Later, he’s on a late shift with Bobby, just the two of them by the rig. Bobby doesn’t pry—not at first—but he looks up after a long stretch of silence and simply says:

“You ready to stop punishing yourself?”

Eddie laughs, low and tired. “I don’t know how.”

“Yes, you do,” Bobby replies. “You just have to stop running. You’ve been in survival mode for so long, you forgot what it’s like to choose joy.”

Eddie leans against the counter, voice barely audible.

“I think she was my joy.”

Bobby nods. “Then go get her back. You still have time.”

That night, Eddie lies in bed staring at the ceiling, and for once, he doesn’t picture all the ways he could lose you. He pictures what it would feel like to hold your hand again. To tell you the truth.

To stop being afraid of a heart that beats a little louder when you’re near.

And he decides—finally—that it’s time.

He’s done running.

It’s raining when he knocks.

Not the kind of gentle drizzle that clings to windows like a whisper, but a downpour—relentless, cold, unforgiving.

It’s been weeks since you last saw Eddie in anything more than passing glances at the firehouse, and longer still since you heard his voice say your name without flinching.

You almost don’t open the door.

But when you check the peephole, and you see him standing there—soaked to the bone, eyes like bruises, shoulders sagging—you can’t bring yourself to walk away.

You crack the door open just enough to lean against it. You don’t invite him in.

“Really?” you say quietly. “Now you show up?”

Eddie’s lips part, but he doesn’t speak right away. You almost think he won’t.

“I know I have no right to be here,” he finally says, voice gravel-thick and wet with regret. “But I couldn’t— I couldn’t keep doing this. Not after everything.”

You cross your arms, biting back the ache in your throat.

“Everything like what, Eddie? Like telling me it was all in my head? Like pretending none of it meant anything?”

He flinches.

“I was trying to protect something,” he says. “I just didn’t realize I was destroying it at the same time.”

You open the door a little wider, just enough for him to see the anger that still flickers in your chest—anger born from heartbreak, not hate.

“Protect what exactly? Yourself? Because I sure as hell wasn’t protected when you said all those things. You made me feel insane for loving you.”

“I didn’t mean to,” he says instantly, stepping forward but stopping himself short.

“I thought if I kept you at arm’s length, maybe I wouldn’t lose you completely. I’ve lost people before—people I loved. And you—”

He swallows thickly, shaking his head.

“You scared me more than anyone ever has.”

That stings.

You let it.

“That’s not an excuse,” you say, voice firm even as your hands start to tremble.

“You don’t get to burn down what we had just because it scared you. You don’t get to come back when I’ve barely figured out how to function without you.”

“I know,” he says, and he means it. You can see it in the way his jaw tightens, the way his shoulders curl inward like he’s folding under the weight of it all.

“I lied,” he says softly. “That night. When I said I didn’t love you.”

You glance away, jaw clenched.

“I was scared. I still am. But the truth is… I’m more scared of never getting to tell you how much I do love you.”

The silence that follows is thick and heavy, and for a moment, all you can hear is the rain pounding against the pavement and the thunder rolling overhead.

“Eddie,” you say quietly. “You broke my heart.”

“I know,” he breathes, voice wrecked.

“And I’ll spend as long as it takes trying to make up for that. I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t expect you to trust me. But I needed you to know that I see it now. I see you. I love you. And I never stopped.”

You stare at him for a long time, and he doesn’t fill the silence with more words. He just stands there, letting it rain, letting it hurt.

Eventually, you step aside.

“Come inside before you catch a cold.”

He does. Carefully. As though you might change your mind at any second.

He peels off his soaked jacket and stands awkwardly in your living room, dripping water onto the rug he once helped you pick out on a lazy Sunday afternoon—back when things were still unspoken but full of promise.

“You still love me?” he asks, quietly, almost afraid of the answer.

You don’t answer right away.

Instead, you walk toward him, stopping close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his chest.

Your fingers brush over his shirt, soaked and clinging, and you look up at him through lashes heavy with everything you’ve carried.

“Of course I do,” you whisper. “That’s why it hurt so much.”

He exhales shakily, and for the first time in weeks, you see the man you knew—the one who carried your heart like something fragile and precious, even when he didn’t have the words for it.

“I’m still angry,” you warn.

“You have every right to be.”

“I’m not just going to forget it all overnight.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to.”

You stare at each other, storm still howling outside, hearts both threadbare and somehow still beating in tandem.

And when you kiss—finally—it isn’t perfect.

It’s desperate. It’s trembling. It’s soaked in tears and rain and months of unspoken longing.

But it’s real.

And when he presses his forehead to yours, holding you like the world might split open, you realize that maybe love was never supposed to be fearless.

It was just supposed to be brave.

Falling asleep next to Eddie Diaz becomes a ritual you never thought you’d have the right to experience.

Not after the heartbreak, the months of silence, the tear-stained pillowcases, and the long nights spent wondering if you’d imagined it all.

Not after the ache of watching him walk away from something he felt as deeply as you did. But now, with his arm looped around your waist and his breath slow and even against the back of your neck, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

Like it was always supposed to be this way.

Your mornings are slow now ever since you started sleeping at the Diaz household.

The world still spins fast around you—calls come in, emergencies rise like tides, and grief still knocks on your door sometimes. But in the stillness of sunrise, before the rest of the world wakes up, you and Eddie find time to just be.

You’ve gotten into the habit of making coffee while still wearing his hoodie, sleeves falling past your fingertips, the scent of him wrapped around you like armor.

He pretends not to notice, but there’s always a soft little smile tugging at his mouth when he sees you in it.

“You know, you do own clothes your size,” he says one morning, voice still rough from sleep.

You shrug. “But yours are warmer.”

He pulls you into his chest with a soft grunt and presses a kiss to your temple. “Can’t argue with that.”

After rough shifts, you hold his hand on the ride back to the firehouse.

Sometimes, you don’t even realize you’ve reached for it until you feel his thumb rub slow circles into your knuckles.

It’s never for show. It’s never performative. It’s just… comfort. Constant. Quiet. Sure.

You don’t need words to know what he’s thinking when he squeezes your hand just a little tighter after a difficult call. You just lean your head onto his shoulder and let him breathe.

On another note, Christopher loves having you around again.

Not in the polite, oh-she’s-nice way—but in the real, deep-bonded way that tells you you’ve become something sacred in his world.

After school pickups are his favorite, and even when it’s supposed to be Eddie’s turn, he asks if you can come too.

“Dad says you’re better at choosing snacks,” he tells you with a grin, swinging his backpack onto your back like it’s already your job.

You catch Eddie giving you a soft look through the window of the car. One that says, This. This is it. This is everything I almost threw away.

Sometimes, Chris falls asleep on your shoulder on the ride home when you’re sitting at the back. And sometimes, Eddie takes a picture of it on his phone, storing it somewhere private. Safe.

The teasing from the team is merciless—but warm.

Hen grins at you during lunch and nudges your foot under the table.

“You know, we had a pool going on. I won thirty bucks.”

Chimney raises a brow. “You all owe me. I called it two years ago.”

You shoot Eddie a look, but he’s barely pretending to be bashful.

“It wasn’t exactly subtle,” Buck adds, leaning back in his chair. “The way you two looked at each other? Come on.”

“I don’t remember you saying anything that night I told her I didn’t love her,” Eddie says dryly, smirking.

Buck raises his hands. “I was giving you time to figure out you’re a dumbass. Took longer than expected.”

There’s laughter. Real, full-bellied laughter. The kind that makes your ribs hurt in the best way.

But what gets you most is this: Eddie laughs too.

Like a man no longer holding his breath.

At night, you lie curled up in bed with him, the lamp casting soft light across his face. He’s reading something quietly, one hand draped over your hip, thumb tracing idle patterns into your skin like a habit he doesn’t want to break.

You study him sometimes. The way he softens now. How his smiles last longer. How his laughter comes easier. How he kisses you with both urgency and reverence, like he’s still making up for lost time.

“I think I stopped breathing for a while,” he murmurs one night. “When we weren’t… us.”

You look up at him. “Me too.”

He touches your cheek. “You bring me back to myself. Every time.”

You lean into him, heart swelling.

“That’s all I ever wanted to do.”

He presses his lips to your forehead, and you breathe together in the dark, the quiet warmth of the home you’ve built finally wrapping around you both.

Eddie Diaz once believed love was something you had to guard yourself against. That loving too much meant losing too hard. But now, with your head on his chest and your voice whispering sleepy dreams against his skin, he knows better.

Loving you didn’t ruin him.

It saved him.

And this—this gentle, messy, beautiful life—is everything he almost gave up.

But not anymore.

Now, he holds it all in his arms and doesn’t let go. Not ever again.

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sapphirest0nes · 2 months ago

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look at my boyfriend!! 🫶🏻

#oliver stark

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sapphirest0nes · 2 months ago

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AWW MY SHAYLAAA

The Difference Between Red & Blue

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Warnings: 🌸 fluff

Prompt: accidentally overhearing him gush about you to the 118 (requested by @scorpiobabino )

Notes: female reader, italics are actions and thoughts.

-With that said, it's all under the cut-

Finally, a day off...you had been working overtime at the dispatch center after a massive earthquake hit the city. Several call centers had gone down, and calls were redirected to you. Limited computers, traffic, several collapsed buildings, power issues, and all meant they had tried to get people in to cover the spots of the current dispatchers, but it took almost fifty hours straight until they finally did.

Fifty hours doesn't sound like a lot in the grand scheme of things, but it's so much worse when you're awake the entire time. People needed help, and just like your golden retriever boyfriend, you had the need to help people regardless of how tired you were.

Thankfully, since you were in the call center so long, they had had time to clean up the streets a bit, and traffic was a lot more normal. It had been a hot minute since you'd eaten, so you decided to pull into a fast food place for some food. Evan was on the way back to your apartment at the station, probably wishing he could also go home like you. You bought some food and coffee for the guys and gal at the department.

You were about to shout out to them about the food and coffee in the arms until you heard Buck speaking.

"No, she's just perfect. I really do feel bad for her, they still haven't got other dispatchers in. They're all slammed."

"Yeah, Maddie said it's awful, they just let her go home, though. Thankfully, Jee's sitter is just the neighbour." Chimney replies to Buck as he sits down, the entire group of them look exhausted, but that spark of happiness still shines in Buck's eyes when he speaks about you.

"Actually, I've been meaning to ask you if you knew any places to get a really unique ring. Like something that says 'I love you and get you completely.' I really love her, and I want something that looks more like it came out of an ancient, abandoned elven cave or like something Smaug would hoard."

"Is that Game Of Thrones?"

"Lord of the Rings!"

"There's a difference?" Chimney asks as he's almost falling asleep, his palm pressed against his face, his elbow agaisnt the table.

"There's a difference?" Buck asks as if Chimney's mixing up the colors red and blue, his nerdy side coming out quite a bit.

"That's like asking if Star Wars and Marvel are the same. Come on! My girlfriend and I watch this stuff together all the time, and I just want her to have something no one else has, but I'm looking for an affordable ring."

"I don't know, man, try that Etsy website Maddie keeps buying things from, I think I saw some rings on there-" Chimney immediately stops talking, which prompts Buck to turn around. He sees you and he's happy to see you, of course, but now you know he's planning to propose.

"Hey!" He tries to play it cool, like he wasn't talking about engagement rings, as he sees you enter the room with your arms full of drink carriers and your backpack full of sausage biscuits. "Please tell me you didn't hear all that."

"You don't have to go to the mines of Mordor for me, Baby." You teased as you heard it, he figured, but was hoping you didn't. You place all the coffees down as well as the food, which prompts the rest of the 118 to scramble for it, mainly the coffee, they all shout thank yous and terms of appreciation.

"I want it to be perfect, you're gonna have it forever, and all your other jewelry and clothes and everything is so unique, and your ring needs to be too. Almost as perfect as you. Not generic like most other people." He smiles and pulls you closer. "I didn't even know you were off work....You look exhausted."

"Yeah, I forgot to text. I'm sorry, I'm awful especially when Im tired."

"Stay here, you're much too tired to drive. The couch is pretty comfy, and you can borrow my headphones to block out the sound." He rubs your hips and hugs you gently. He's happy you're safe and that you don't seem too upset about the idea of being married to him. Evan smiles to himself and sways you both back and forth for a while, just being in the moment with his now soon-to-be fiancée.

-> Masterlist

-> Send me prompts if you'd like

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sapphirest0nes · 2 months ago

Text

!!!

The Archer (Evan Buckley) ࣪ 🏹°࿐ ࣪ ᳝۰ ◝

“We’ve both been afraid of losing the things that matter. But maybe this time, we don’t have to.” જ⁀➴

Synopsis: Evan Buckley has always feared people leaving — but the 118 never did. When a new paramedic joins the team, Buck is forced to confront the version of himself he’s tried to outrun. Through quiet moments, late-night calls, and unexpected vulnerability, he learns that maybe, just maybe, love doesn’t have to hurt to be real.

Genre: Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Slow Burn

AU: None

Pairing: Evan Buckley x Afab!Paramedic!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of injuries the usual stuff in 911 episodes, calls and emergencies.

Note: Another fic yet again because these things are literally sitting in my google docs waiting to breathe new life. Thank God for my hyper fixation on this show (I’m still on S6) that I’m putting out fics like a machine. Anyways, if you guys enjoyed don’t forget to like + reblog and leave any comments because they are very much appreciated! Happy reading!

Evan Buckley lived in extremes.

He always had. From the moment he showed up at the 118 — too young, too fast, too much — he’d chased every call like it owed him something. Like if he just ran hard enough, climbed high enough, saved enough, he could outrun the feeling gnawing at his ribs.

He didn’t name it back then.

Didn’t need to.

Because naming it meant slowing down. Meant looking it in the face and admitting that he wasn’t just chasing danger — he was chasing worth.

The job gave him purpose. The team gave him structure. And for a while, that was enough.

Until it wasn’t.

Because when you’re the guy who runs into burning buildings with a smile on your face, people stop asking if you’re the one burning.

He became a legend fast — not in the medals or accolades kind of way, but in whispers around the department.

That’s Buck. He pulled a kid out of a collapsing house. He scaled five stories without ropes once. Total maniac. He hooked up with two EMTs in one weekend.

They weren’t wrong.

Buck didn’t care what people said, as long as they were saying something. Being talked about was better than being forgotten.

And under the bravado, the recklessness, the charm — there was a boy who had been left too many times. By his parents. His sister. Abby. The world.

So he made sure no one could ignore him.

He was the guy who dove headfirst into every call, heart first into every mistake. He was loud. Sloppy, sometimes. He was the kind of brave that bordered on foolish.

Bobby saw it. Hen saw it. Chim tried to buffer him, joke around him, nudge him back into place.

But Buck? Buck was barely holding himself together.

He wasn’t malicious. Just restless. Hungry for connection, for the kind of safety he didn’t believe he deserved. Which is why, when Abby Clarke walked into his life, he latched on with both hands and no helmet.

She was older. Calmer. She saw through the noise and offered him something still. Something quiet.

And he clung to it.

He thought this is it — someone who stays.

Until she didn’t.

And when she left, she didn’t just take her suitcase. She took whatever fragile progress Buck had made believing he was enough for someone to stay for.

He spiraled.

Hard.

Sleeping around. Ghosting shifts. Picking fights with Chim. Pushing Bobby’s patience to its limit. He got suspended. Almost fired. And still, he kept running — from something, toward nothing.

And then he hit a wall.

Not a physical one. But one only he could feel — the kind that comes when the thrill stops numbing the ache.

That’s when Bobby finally sat him down. Really sat him down. No raised voice. No threats. Just a soft, quiet: “Are you done trying to destroy yourself?”

Buck hadn’t answered.

Not that day.

But something shifted.

He started showing up differently. Stayed sober on his days off. Came early. Took care of the new guy, Ravi. Listened more. Talked less. Learned to shut his mouth before the sarcasm slipped out and hurt someone.

It was slow. Uneven. There were backslides.

Nights where he stared at his ceiling wondering if there was anything left for him outside the job. But then came the little wins — Bobby trusting him with a delicate rescue. Hen letting him lead a training. Chim actually saying, “Proud of you, man.”

They were quiet victories.

The kind that didn’t need sirens or spotlights.

And Buck started to realize: maybe being seen didn’t have to mean being loud. Maybe it could mean being real.

And in that stillness, that liminal space between healing and hurt, something — someone — would soon arrive.

But not yet.

Not today.

Today, Buck walked into the firehouse with a steady gait and a thermos of coffee in his hand. He wasn’t running anymore.

He wasn’t fixed. But he was trying.

And as he stepped into the kitchen and spotted Ravi talking to someone new — a face he didn’t recognize yet — he tilted his head, curiosity piqued.

Not because of interest.

But because these days, he paid attention.

Because he knew better than anyone: everyone walks in with a story.

And sometimes, if you’re lucky, you find someone who stays for yours.

The firehouse kitchen smelled like garlic bread and grilled chicken — Bobby’s signature meal for easing new recruits into the fold.

A little comfort food, a lot of subtle observation. It was tradition by now. Buck had seen it play out a dozen times. But tonight, something felt different.

“Alright, everyone,” Bobby called out, wiping his hands on a dish towel.

“We’ve got a new member joining us on rotation. Paramedic. Transferred from Station 136. Came highly recommended — and yes, she’s already survived the paperwork.”

That got a few chuckles.

Buck leaned back in his chair, sipping a beer, eyes fixed on the table — until he heard footsteps and glanced up.

You walked in with quiet confidence, your expression open but unreadable. You gave Chim a nod, bumped fists with Ravi, even managed to coax a small smile out of Eddie. But when your eyes met Buck’s, something sharpened in your gaze.

“Evan Buckley,” you said, stepping forward before Bobby could do the honors. “The man. The myth. The sex swing incident.”

Hen choked on her water.

Buck blinked. “Seriously? That’s still going around?”

“I mean, you got stuck mid-rescue,” you said, grinning. “It’s basically required reading in paramedic group chats.”

“I was saving a guy’s life—”

“While tangled in a very specific apparatus,” Hen added, laughing now. “Classic Buck.”

“Right,” Buck muttered, but he was smiling too as he stood to shake your hand. “Well, glad I could make an impression.”

“Hard not to,” you replied smoothly.

Bobby motioned toward the food. “Grab a plate. Get comfortable. You’re family now.”

You slid into the seat between Buck and Hen — the one always left open for new blood. Buck noticed the ease in your posture, the way you listened when Chim talked about his daughter, how you laughed — really laughed — at one of Ravi’s sarcastic remarks.

You were tuned in. Not trying to dominate the room, just present in a way that made people want to open up.

Hen leaned closer. “So, three years at 136, right?”

“Yup. Two of those mostly on medical calls. Rotated through some tough wildfire seasons last year. Decided I wanted something steadier. A tighter-knit crew.”

Buck tilted his head. “And you think this place is steady?”

You looked at him with a smirk. “Steady’s relative. But I’ve got a good gut.”

Hen raised her glass. “To instincts. You’re gonna fit right in.”

Buck didn’t say much after that. Just observed.

The way you leaned toward Hen when she spoke. The way you passed the salad bowl without anyone asking. The calm energy you brought into the chaos.

And for a guy like Buck — whose life had often felt like a long string of misfires — that calm made him want to stay just a little longer in your orbit.

Later, when you excused yourself to help Bobby in the kitchen, Hen elbowed him. “She’s good.”

“Yeah,” Buck muttered, still watching the doorway you disappeared through. “She really is.”

Something in him stirred — something that hadn’t moved in a long time.

But for now, he kept it buried. One shift at a time.

The sirens wailed as the 118 raced through downtown. Dispatch had flagged it as a ‘multi-casualty trauma,’ and the pit in Buck’s stomach tightened the closer they got.

It was a three-car collision on a bridge, with reports of people trapped, including a child in critical condition. The kind of call that didn’t just test your skills — it tested your nerve.

“Chim, Buck — you’re with me on extractions. Eddie, Y/N, you handle triage,” Bobby directed as the truck rolled to a stop with a hiss of brakes.

Without missing a beat, you grabbed your trauma bag and jumped out of the rig, sprinting alongside Eddie toward the first wrecked vehicle.

Buck watched you go, momentarily caught off guard by the way you moved — focused, fast, in full command of your role.

He didn’t even realize he was smiling until Chim gave him a look. “You gonna stand there or you wanna keep up?”

“Right, yeah,” Buck muttered, snapping into motion.

The scene was chaos. Glass shimmered on the pavement like ice. A woman screamed from one of the cars, her leg pinned beneath the dashboard. A toddler wailed in the backseat. And that was just one of the three vehicles.

Buck was elbow-deep in a door panel when he heard you over the comms.

“Victim 1 has a head wound and possible spinal trauma. Stabilizing now.”

You were crouched beside a man whose forehead was bleeding profusely, calmly applying a C-collar and giving directions to a bystander to help brace him.

It wasn’t just that you knew what to do — it was the way you spoke. Direct, grounding. People listened.

“Y/N, I need a hand over here!” Chim called out from the middle car.

“On it!” You tossed a pair of gloves to the bystander and dashed over.

Buck watched as you assessed a woman’s irregular breathing and slipped a hand behind her neck like you’d done it a thousand times.

You didn’t hesitate. You didn’t rattle. You just moved.

Even Eddie glanced up from where he was wrapping a boy’s arm in gauze and muttered to himself, “Damn. She’s good.”

By the time all victims were stabilized and en route to the hospital, Buck stood near the rig, helmet tucked under his arm, adrenaline buzzing.

You walked over, brushing dust off your sleeves. “You alright?”

“Me? I’m good,” Buck said. “But you—wow. That was incredible. The way you handled the head trauma guy, and that kid who was hyperventilating?”

You shrugged, modest but glowing from the rush. “You do this job long enough, you learn how to find your footing in the chaos.”

Buck stared at you for a second longer than necessary.

“Yeah, but not everyone makes it look that easy.”

Chim joined them, clapping you on the back. “If you keep pulling moves like that, I’m not gonna let Hen take you next shift.”

“Too late,” Eddie said as he came up, peeling off his gloves. “I’m already requesting her.”

You rolled your eyes, but Buck could see the smile tugging at your lips.

Bobby walked over last, clipboard in hand. “Good work, all of you. Y/N, you’re proving to be everything your record said and more.”

“Thanks, Cap,” you said, wiping sweat from your brow.

As the team packed up and got back into the rig, Buck slid into the seat beside you.

“You’re full of surprises,” he said quietly.

You turned to him, brow arched. “Good ones, I hope?”

“The best kind,” he said.

And he meant it.

It was just after sunrise when the 118 pulled back into the station. The adrenaline from the bridge call had faded, replaced by the familiar ache of fatigue and the hum of relief.

The B shift crew was already filtering in — exchanging nods, half-sleepy greetings, and fresh cups of coffee.

Buck scrubbed a hand through his messy curls as he slid off his turnout coat, tossing it into his locker.

You were at the sink in the kitchen, rinsing your hands and scrubbing away the grime of the last twelve hours. Hen passed you a towel and a warm smile as she grabbed her keys.

“You did good today, Y/N,” she said. “For what it’s worth — not many people impress Buck.”

Buck looked up from his locker with a faint scoff. “I’m not that hard to impress.”

“Yes, you are,” Chim and Eddie said in unison as they passed by, drawing a light chuckle from you.

Buck shot them both a look before wandering over to the kitchen. You were drying your hands, your sleeves rolled up, a few strands of hair escaping your bun.

“Hey,” Buck said, leaning a little against the counter. “Shift’s done. You got plans this morning?”

You looked up, curious. “Besides sleeping for five hours and eating my weight in leftover pasta? Not really.”

Buck smiled. “Well… I was thinking coffee. There’s this spot a few blocks down — open early, quiet, and they actually know how to make a flat white. If you’re into that.”

You blinked — surprised, but not unpleasantly. “You offering me caffeine, Buckley?”

“Maybe,” he said, his grin boyish, almost shy.

“Or maybe I’m trying to hang out with the paramedic who saved three people in record time this morning and made Eddie Diaz speechless for a whole twenty seconds.”

You let out a small laugh, reaching for your jacket. “Alright. Coffee sounds good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “But you’re buying. Hero tax.”

Buck chuckled, holding the door open for you as you both stepped out into the golden, sleepy haze of early morning.

“Deal.”

From the window, Eddie watched the two of you walk off together, shaking his head with a knowing smile. Hen stepped beside him, coffee in hand.

“Told you he’d crack first,” she said.

Eddie hummed. “Yeah, but for once… it’s not just a flirt.”

Hen sipped her drink. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t mess it up.”

The thing no one told you about being a firefighter wasn’t how loud the job could get.

It was the silence after.

The silence when the sirens faded, and the blood was cleaned from your gloves, and the screams stopped echoing in your ears.

That was when the weight crept in — not just from the job, but from who you carried it for.

You had learned early in life not to hold on too tightly. Nothing ever really stayed — not your childhood house, not the friends you thought were forever, not even the people who promised they wouldn’t leave.

Change had always arrived like a storm: without warning, without apology.

So you adapted.

You moved light. You didn’t ask for permanence. You didn’t get too attached.

But then you found the 118.

And somewhere along the line, they became the one place you didn’t have to flinch.

Buck had started as a ripple.

That first coffee turned into a second, then into breakfast runs, then into small moments: him helping you hose down the rig after a muddy call, saving you the last protein bar in the kitchen, walking just a step behind you on every building search like he was quietly, instinctively keeping watch.

He didn’t make it loud, but Buck had slipped into your life like he’d always been meant to be there.

And that terrified you.

Because lately, your heart had begun to stutter every time you lost sight of him during a call.

You started counting the seconds he was out of your line of vision. Every loud crash, every “man down” over comms, had you holding your breath before you even realized it.

You weren’t used to caring this much. Not about someone who ran headfirst into fire.

And today’s call — it shook something loose.

A scaffolding collapse. Six construction workers trapped. One rebar impalement. Two amputations. The kind of call that would drain anyone.

Buck had gone up to the second floor, clearing debris to reach a trapped victim. You and Hen had stayed on the ground level, assisting with triage. You’d looked up once to check on him, just in time to see the beam snap above him.

He’d dodged it. Barely.

He’d waved it off afterward with that crooked smile of his, sweat matting his curls. But your heart had dropped so fast you didn’t even register you were shaking until Hen quietly placed a steady hand on your back.

You didn’t let it show.

Not then.

But later that night, long after the rig was clean and the paperwork was filed, you found yourself lingering in the kitchen as the others filtered out.

Bobby was wiping down the counter, Hen sipped her tea at the table, and Chim leaned back in his chair scrolling through photos of Jee-Yun.

You didn’t mean to say it aloud.

But you did.

“I’m scared.”

The room stilled — not with judgment, but with familiarity.

Bobby set the towel down. “About what?”

You hesitated, swallowing. “About caring too much. About getting used to something good… and having it taken away.”

Hen tilted her head, gently. “You mean Buck.”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have to.

Chim set his phone down and leaned forward, more serious now. “Buck has that effect.”

“He’s reckless,” you said softly, voice fraying. “He throws himself into danger without a second thought. He laughs it off and keeps going. I’m just— I’m scared one day he won’t come back.”

“Have you told him?” Bobby asked.

You shook your head. “I don’t want to make it about me.”

Hen stood and crossed the kitchen, resting a warm hand on your shoulder.

“Sweetheart, caring about someone doesn’t make it about you. It makes it real.”

Chim smiled, softer this time. “He probably feels the same way. Buck might be reckless with himself, but he’s not reckless with people he cares about. And trust me — he cares about you.”

You looked up, heart pounding. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Bobby said. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you after every call. Like he’s checking to make sure you made it back.”

Hen nodded. “You don’t have to keep carrying the weight of every fear by yourself. You’ve got us. And you’ve got him — even if neither of you have said it out loud yet.”

The silence returned, but this time it was filled with something warmer. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

“Thanks,” you murmured. “I needed that.”

Chim bumped your shoulder with his. “You’re part of this family now. You don’t get to do things the hard way all the time.”

You laughed, finally. “Noted.”

And when Buck walked into the kitchen a few minutes later — face flushed from a hot shower, curls damp, a curious glance cast your way — you didn’t look away.

Maybe things didn’t always stay.

But maybe some people could.

And maybe, just maybe… he was one of them.

It started small.

You used to sit next to Buck on shift, shoulder-to-shoulder at the kitchen table, his leg brushing yours whenever you both leaned in for a bite of something Hen made.

Your jokes came fast and easy. He knew the exact creases in your smile, the way your laugh always started in your chest before reaching your eyes.

But lately?

Lately, you’d been somewhere else entirely.

You’d started riding back with Chim and Eddie after calls, hanging back in the rig longer than usual, sometimes even taking your coffee breaks outside, pretending to answer texts.

When you laughed now, it was still warm — still you — but Buck didn’t feel like the reason anymore.

At first, he told himself it was nothing. Maybe just a bad day. A bad week. Burnout.

But now, two weeks deep into the change, he was starting to feel like an outsider in a story he’d once felt lucky to be part of.

Breakfast runs used to be your thing.

It had started after your second call together — a collapsed balcony with two patients and a lot of adrenaline.

Buck had bought you a coffee to calm your nerves and you’d smiled like it meant more than just caffeine. After that, it became ritual. You even had a usual order.

Now?

You didn’t even ask if he was coming.

Buck found you outside the diner that morning, standing by the curb while Eddie laughed at something Chim said through the window.

You were focused on your phone, but your face was too blank for someone reading a meme. You looked… elsewhere. And that scared him more than anything.

“Hey,” he said, approaching slowly. “Got room for one more?”

You looked up, startled. Your smile was polite. Too polite.

“Of course.”

That should’ve been comforting. It wasn’t.

He slid into the booth beside you once inside — you didn’t protest, but you didn’t shift closer, either. Chim and Eddie talked around you both, but Buck barely heard any of it. His stomach was too twisted.

And when you offered Eddie a bite of your toast with a soft laugh — the same kind Buck hadn’t heard in days — something inside him snapped quiet.

You both ended up walking out together afterward, coffees in hand, the LA morning sun not yet punishing. He waited until you reached the edge of the lot before breaking the silence.

“You’ve been distant.”

You froze just a little — not fully, but enough for him to notice.

“I’ve been tired,” you replied.

“That’s not what I asked.”

You sighed, brushing hair from your face. “Buck, it’s nothing personal.”

“But it feels personal.”

That made you pause. Really pause. Buck looked at you like he was trying to solve a puzzle he didn’t have all the pieces for.

“You used to talk to me.”

“I still talk to you.”

“Not like before.”

That quiet hung between you, longer than it should have. Cars rolled by. Somewhere nearby, someone honked. It all faded into background noise.

“I just needed space,” you said finally. “That’s all.”

“From me?” Buck asked, not unkindly — just hurt. And it was that part of him — the aching, raw honesty he only ever let out with people he trusted — that finally cracked through.

You didn’t answer right away. And maybe you didn’t need to.

“Did I do something?” he asked softly. “Or not do something?”

You looked down at your cup. “It’s not about you, Buck. Not completely.”

“Then help me understand.”

You exhaled. Slow. Heavy.

“I care about you. That hasn’t changed,” you said. “But this job… what we do, what we see — I’m trying to protect myself. And lately, I’ve been feeling things I shouldn’t.”

“What kind of things?”

“I worry about you,” you said.

“Every damn call. Every time you take a risk or crack a joke to hide how much you care. I worry because you act like you’re invincible when none of us are.”

Buck blinked. That was the last thing he expected.

“I worry about you all the time too,” he said.

“You think I don’t notice when you zone out after a call? Or when you touch your shoulder like it still hurts from the collapse?”

You looked at him then, and it was the first time in a while you really looked. Buck felt it in his ribs.

“I didn’t mean to shut you out,” you said, voice quieter now. “I just didn’t know how to make room for… this.”

“For what?”

“For how much I care about you.”

That stopped Buck cold.

For a second, he couldn’t speak — which was rare for him. He ran a hand through his hair, swallowed hard.

“I thought I was imagining it,” he admitted. “When you started hanging around Eddie more, I thought… maybe you were just over me.”

“I needed a breather,” you said gently. “And Eddie’s easy to be around when you’re trying not to feel everything at once.”

Buck nodded. He understood that more than you knew.

“I don’t want to be a distraction,” he said finally. “But I don’t want to be out of your life either.”

“You’re not,” you said quickly. “You’re not. I just need to go slow. For my own heart.”

Buck gave you a smile — soft, genuine, a little sad but somehow still hopeful. “I can do slow. I can do anything, really… just not losing you.”

You reached out and touched his wrist, just briefly, but it sent a warmth through both of you.

“You’re not losing me, Buck,” you said. “Just finding me again. In a different way.”

He nodded.

And for the first time in weeks, the silence between you didn’t feel like a wall.

It felt like a bridge.

The shift was slow.

Rare for L.A. — rare for the 118 — but the quiet was almost a welcome reprieve.

The four of them had just wrapped up restocking the rig after a minor call, and Buck found himself sitting on the tailgate with Eddie, nursing a bottle of water and trying not to let his thoughts spiral.

You weren’t on shift today.

And somehow, that made him more aware of your absence than usual.

Eddie glanced at him from the driver’s side. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Buck said automatically — then sighed, tipping his head back toward the sky. “Actually, no. Not really.”

Eddie raised a brow, folding his arms and leaning against the rig. “Wanna talk about it?”

Buck hesitated. “What’s Y/N been saying?”

Eddie blinked. “That’s direct.”

“Yeah, well. I’ve been going in circles in my head for two weeks, so I figured I’d try a straight line for once.”

That earned a short laugh from Eddie. “She’s… she’s been quieter. But not cold. Still herself, just maybe… more internal lately.”

Buck nodded. “She talks to you though.”

“She talks to everyone, Buck. Just not you the same way right now. You know why.”

He did. But hearing it said aloud still stung.

Hen and Chimney appeared around the corner, Hen wiping her hands on a towel while Chim juggled two protein bars and a Gatorade.

“Talking about Y/N?” Chim guessed with zero subtlety.

“Wow. Okay,” Buck muttered.

Hen smiled knowingly. “It’s not hard to tell. You’ve been sulking like a sad golden retriever since the breakfast run.”

“That obvious, huh?”

“Painfully,” Eddie replied.

Hen sat beside Buck and nudged him with her shoulder. “You wanna know what she said the other night?”

Buck’s eyes narrowed. “You’re just gonna tell me?”

“She said she didn’t know what to do with someone who felt permanent.”

That made the words hit like a sucker punch. Buck’s grip on his water bottle tightened.

“She said,” Hen continued, “that for the first time in a long time, she had something that scared her in a good way. And it scared her so much, she didn’t know if it would survive her fear.”

“She meant me?”

“She didn’t say it. But she didn’t have to.”

Buck went quiet.

Chim leaned against the door, eyes thoughtful. “Y/N’s always been calm in the chaos. But when it comes to people she lets in… she’s selective. You got past the filters.”

“I didn’t mean to overwhelm her,” Buck said, voice low.

“You didn’t,” Eddie said. “But you surprised her. That’s different.”

Buck glanced at all of them. “Why does it feel like I’m the only one who didn’t know what was happening until it was too late?”

Hen softened. “Maybe because you’re not used to something being real, Buck. You’re used to the storm, not the quiet after.”

Buck didn’t say anything for a long moment.

Then: “I think I love her.”

The words felt like oxygen and a confession in one breath.

“I didn’t mean to,” he added quickly.

“I just… it crept up on me. Somewhere between the way she remembers everyone’s coffee order and the way she calms people after the worst days of their lives. Somewhere in how she’s always steady, even when she’s falling apart.”

He ran a hand through his hair, eyes wide now that he’d said it aloud. “I think I love her. And I don’t know what to do with that.”

The group went still for a moment — not shocked, but holding the weight of the moment carefully.

“You don’t do anything,” Eddie said, voice quiet and firm.

“Not right away. You be there. You let her come back to you. And when she does, you make sure she knows it’s safe to stay.”

Buck blinked, chest tightening.

“And if she doesn’t?” he asked.

“Then she wasn’t ready,” Hen said. “But I think she is. I just think she’s scared.”

“And you know what it’s like to love someone who’s scared,” Chim added. “So… don’t rush her.”

Buck nodded slowly.

He looked around at the people who had been his constants — even when he hadn’t been his best. People who saw through the ego, the recklessness, the mess.

He’d never imagined the moment of falling in love would come with so much stillness. But now that he’d recognized it… he didn’t want to run from it.

“I’ll wait,” Buck said. “Whatever it takes.”

Eddie patted his shoulder. “Good. Because she’s worth it.”

Buck looked toward the horizon — where the next call, the next shift, the next chance would come.

And somewhere in all that unknown, he hoped you were waiting too.

It was strange, being off shift and still feeling like you were waiting for something to go off — like a bell, a siren, a call that never came.

You hadn’t been sleeping much.

You hadn’t been talking much either.

At least, not to him.

Not since that breakfast run where Buck had looked at you like you were slipping through his fingers and didn’t know how to stop it.

It had been easier, in a way, to talk to Chim, to Hen, even Eddie — because it meant avoiding the one person who made your heart pace harder than a four-alarm call.

But today, you’d needed something softer.

So you texted Maddie.

Mind if I come by? I kinda miss Jeeyun.

Maddie had responded within a minute:

We’d love to see you. She’s teething like a tiny gremlin but I promise we’ll try to make it fun.

Now, you sat curled up on the couch in her apartment, a blanket half-draped across your legs, a drool-stained burp cloth clutched loosely in your hand, and Jeeyun nestled in your lap like a warm, squirming bundle of grounding energy.

“She likes you,” Maddie said softly from the kitchen, mug of tea in hand.

“She’s a baby,” you murmured. “She likes everyone.”

“No,” Maddie said, settling beside you. “She likes you. Not everyone gets that giggle from her.”

Jeeyun babbled loudly, her fingers wrapped around yours.

You smiled, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Maddie didn’t press. Not at first.

“I’m guessing this visit isn’t just about teething woes and baby cuddles.”

You sighed, brushing a hand down Jeeyun’s back.

“No. I just… I needed quiet. And I needed not to be at the station. Every time I walk in there, I feel like everyone’s waiting for me to say something.”

“About Buck?”

You nodded. “He’s… I don’t know. I don’t know where we stand.”

Maddie watched you carefully.

“Do you want to know what I think?” You glanced at her.

“I texted you, didn’t I?”

She chuckled lightly. “Fair.”

There was a pause, quiet except for Jeeyun’s soft breaths.

“I think my brother can be reckless. Impulsive. Emotionally chaotic. But I’ve never — not once — seen him as focused or consistent as he’s been since you came around.”

You looked away. “He’s… he’s Buck. That scares me.”

“Because you think he’ll mess up?”

“Because I think he won’t. And then I’ll be the one who doesn’t know how to handle it.”

That admission came with a weight you hadn’t expected — a kind of ache you hadn’t named until now. Maddie leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees.

“You’re not the only one who’s scared. Buck doesn’t do vulnerability well, not with feelings like this. But he’s trying. And believe me, I would know.”

You swallowed hard. “I don’t want to be someone he gets tired of. Someone he looks at one day and realizes he wanted something easier.”

“He already had easier,” Maddie said. “And none of it made him feel what he feels now.”

Your eyes burned, but you didn’t cry.

You just looked at the baby in your lap, who cooed and grabbed at your dog tags like she was trying to keep you grounded.

Maddie added gently, “If Buck had to choose between a steady life without you or a chaotic one with you in it, he’d pick the chaos. Every time. I know my brother. And I wouldn’t see him with anyone else.”

That last part — I wouldn’t see him with anyone else — cracked something inside you.

It was one thing to wonder if he felt what you felt. It was another to hear it spoken, with certainty, from someone who knew him best.

You nodded slowly, pressing a kiss to Jeeyun’s hair. “Thanks for letting me come over.”

Maddie smiled. “Anytime. Especially if it helps bring you back to him.”

You didn’t answer.

But you thought about how Buck looked at you like you were something he didn’t want to lose.

And maybe… just maybe… you weren’t ready to lose him either.

There wasn’t a moment he could point to when it began — no grand gesture, no dramatic reconciliation.

But it started, he realized, during a call.

A routine one, even. An apartment fire, thick smoke, elderly couple trapped on the third floor.

Buck was on the hose line, you were searching rooms with Chim, and the second he heard your voice over the comms — calm, clear, certain — something in his chest loosened.

Then, something else happened.

You came back.

Not all at once. But in pieces.

During cleanup, you passed him a water bottle and murmured, “Nice knockdown.” Your eyes met his.

Not too long, not too soft. But you looked, and Buck noticed. Buck felt it.

The next shift, you called out for him during another call — “Buck, left hallway’s clear, I’m heading back out with Hen” — and your voice didn’t sound clipped like it used to.

It was steadier. Almost like… you wanted him to hear it.

He started hearing it more and more.

You began standing a little closer when you briefed with the team. You laughed again — not at him, not because of him — but near him. And it mattered. God, it mattered.

During a high-rise evacuation with B-Shift, you caught his wrist when he was climbing the stairs too fast and simply said, “Don’t push your knee, you’re limping again.”

It wasn’t playful, but it was gentle. The kind of thing you used to say before all the silence.

And Buck held onto it like oxygen.

Hen noticed first.

She leaned into him at the back of the rig as you checked Chim’s minor burn. “You feel that?” she murmured, tilting her head in your direction.

Buck didn’t answer. Just followed the way you were focused on Chim, how your hand moved with practiced ease, how you smiled slightly when Chim made a joke about pain being temporary and dramatic flair being forever.

“She’s softening again,” Hen said quietly. “Good job not screwing it up this time. Yet.”

Buck let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

Later that night, Chim tugged Buck aside while restocking the trauma bags.

“You know she asked about you last shift?”

Buck’s heart thudded. “She did?”

“Yeah. Something about how your wrist was holding up after that fall. Didn’t want to ask directly, I guess.”

Buck couldn’t stop the small smile that crept in.

“She cares,” Chim added. “Still. Maybe more than ever.”

That did something to Buck — not just fill him with hope, but anchor him. Because for the first time in a long time, the thing that had been tearing at him didn’t feel like loss. It felt like a second chance he hadn’t even known he was working toward.

At the next call, he was assigned to your side again.

And when you both cleared the scene, soot-smeared and tired, you nudged his arm lightly with your shoulder.

“Nice teamwork, Buck.” His chest bloomed warm at that.

“Thanks,” he said softly, catching your eyes again. “I missed it.”

There was a pause. You didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away.

“Me too,” you said. And it wasn’t nothing.

In fact, it felt like everything.

It was after another long shift.

One of those where your muscles ached in ways you didn’t realize they could, but the adrenaline was still running high.

The sun had barely cracked over the horizon when the 118 rolled back into the station, your silhouettes golden in the dawn.

Buck stretched his back with a groan, watching you unclip your radio with one hand and rub the back of your neck with the other.

He was just about to say something — anything — when you turned to him with that same look you used to wear months ago. The one that came with trust.

“Coffee?” you asked. Then — after a beat — “Breakfast?”

His heart did a quiet somersault.

“Yeah,” he said, voice soft. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

You walked a few blocks in comfortable silence. No teasing. No awkward tension. Just footsteps echoing side by side until you found a small diner tucked on the corner of an empty street.

It wasn’t fancy — red booths, yellow lighting, a faint smell of syrup in the air — but it felt safe.

You picked a booth by the window. Sat across from him. And when the waitress poured coffee into your cups, you stirred in sugar like it was second nature.

For a while, it was easy.

You talked about the calls. About Christopher’s latest obsession with stop-motion animation. About Chim’s plan to prank Ravi again and how Hen was already scheming a counterattack.

And then — mid-bite into your pancake — you set your fork down.

“I used to think nothing in my life stayed,” you said suddenly, eyes on your plate. “Family. Friends. I don’t know, stability just… always felt like it slipped right through.”

Buck blinked. Because it felt like you had just cracked something open in him too.

“But the 118… it stuck,” you continued. “And I guess somewhere along the way, you did too.”

Buck’s throat went dry.

“I know we never said anything outright,” you went on, quieter now. “But I felt it. I know you did too.”

“I did,” Buck said, immediately, almost breathless. “I do.”

The way you looked at him then — hopeful, hesitant — it punched through him like nothing else.

“You scared me,” you admitted. “Not because of who you were, but because I didn’t know if I could handle how much I wanted to stay where you were.”

His heart was racing. He leaned in, hands wrapped around his mug to keep them steady.

“I’ve always been afraid of people leaving,” Buck said, voice low.

“Most of them did. Except the 118. Except you. And I was such a mess when we met — sleeping around, numbing out, pretending like nothing mattered. But you…” He exhaled. “You looked at me like I could still be something good.”

You stared at him for a long moment.

“Because you are,” you said.

Silence stretched between you. Not uncomfortable, but full. Full of everything unsaid that no longer needed to be hidden.

Then, softly, you added, “We’ve both been afraid of losing the things that matter. But maybe this time, we don’t have to.”

Buck felt the weight of it — that promise. That hope.

He reached across the table slowly, gently, letting his fingers brush yours. And you didn’t pull away.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said.

You smiled — small, but real.

“Good,” you whispered. “Because I’m tired of running.”

There wasn’t an announcement.

No dramatic revelation. No secret whispers caught in the locker room. But something shifted.

It started small — the way Buck hovered just a little closer to you after morning roll call.

The way your elbow would brush his when you reached for the same granola bar in the kitchen, and neither of you flinched away anymore. The way you’d grab an extra cup of coffee during breaks without being asked.

Hen noticed first.

Of course she did. She always did.

She didn’t say anything at first — just arched a brow and smirked a little to herself when Buck instinctively grabbed the end of a hose line before you had the chance to haul it alone. She made a bet with Chim the moment she saw you both return from a supply run with that familiar soft flush on your faces.

“Twenty bucks says they’re already halfway in,” Hen muttered, sipping her coffee as you and Buck disappeared around the engine. Chimney blinked after you.

“They’ve been soft with each other lately,” he admitted. “Buck didn’t even try to one-up Eddie on that last rescue. That’s growth.”

“Love’ll do that to you,” Hen said with a grin.

Eddie noticed, too — quietly, in the way only Eddie could. He wasn’t surprised. Not really. He’d seen the way Buck looked at you for months now, even before Buck knew what he was feeling. And he’d seen how you looked back like you were trying not to fall but were already halfway there.

He hadn’t said anything, but the first time Buck helped Christopher adjust his helmet during a family BBQ with you smiling in the background, Eddie knew. And he was happy. Genuinely happy.

Bobby didn’t need to say much either. Just gave Buck a knowing pat on the shoulder one day after a call — the kind of gesture that said, I see it. I trust it. Take care of her.

Even Ravi, the last one to catch on, noticed how you leaned into Buck’s side during team lunches. How you laughed easier now. How Buck seemed to listen more — not just with his ears, but with his heart.

It wasn’t just affection.

It was something steadier.

And you felt it too.

For the first time in a long time, you didn’t flinch at the idea of something lasting. You weren’t waiting for the other shoe to drop, or for Buck to disappear when things got too hard. He had been showing up — for you, for the team, for himself — in a way that wasn’t performative. It was real.

You caught Hen watching you one morning in the kitchen. She was grinning.

“What?” you asked, sipping your coffee.

“You just look happy,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You smiled back, a little shy but not scared. “I think I am.”

Buck came up behind you, ruffling your hair with that ridiculous grin of his before stealing a bite of your toast.

“Hey,” you laughed.

“What? We share now,” he teased, mouth full.

Hen just shook her head and muttered something about whipped golden retrievers.

The rest of the day passed like any other — calls, chaos, controlled urgency — but the difference was in the pauses. The quiet in-betweens where Buck would find you, touch your hand briefly, or glance your way like you were the thing grounding him to the world.

And for once, you weren’t afraid of what that meant.

Because he wasn’t afraid either.

This wasn’t the kind of love that burned too fast and too bright. This was the kind that unfolded. That stayed. That chose you every day, in every little moment — even the ones no one else saw.

You were still the same firefighter. Still the same paramedic.

But now, in the laughter around the table, the warmth of the 118’s eyes on you, the feel of Buck’s fingers brushing yours when he thought no one was looking — you felt something new:

Home.

#911 #evan buckley

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sapphirest0nes · 2 months ago

Text

I LOVE THIS

The difficulty of self-acceptance

Description: Maddie and you had a thing for a while, but she called it quits when she couldn't deal with her own feelings anymore. When she learns that you want to move away, she knows she has to do something before it's too late.

Tags: angst with happy ending, wlw, hurt/comfort, internalised homophobia, coming out, fluff, some humor, Buck being the best brother, getting together, the word t*ts used (only once😅), happy ending

Also, thank you for the likes and reposts on the last post❤️

“This can't go on anymore.” Maddie looked at Y/N's back, her voice was sad, but also cold “You know it's not…”

“I don’t want to hide, it was your idea.” Y/N didn’t turn around, she tried to stay strong, she hated crying in front of others, but her voice was slightly shaking “You were the one who said…”

“I know.” Maddie interrupted, sighing “But it's just too much for me.”

“Oh, is it now?” Y/N turned around, her voice sarcastic “But I wasn't too much when you needed some satisfaction?” she folded her hands.

Maddie felt her heart break seeing her like this because of her actions.

“No, Y/N, I swear I never meant to play with you.” she stepped closer “I was just…confused.”

“Confused?”

“Y/N-”

“Don’t.” she snapped “Don’t say it's you and not me. Don't say that I'm too good for this.” she looked into her eyes, her own swelling up with tears “Don’t say you're not into this, cause I saw it, damn it, I felt it, Maddie. That wasn't fake. Don't tell me it was fake!”

Y/N hated being rude, especially to someone as special as Maddie, but she was overwhelmed. Her chest was tight, her stomach in a knot, her knees weak. She wasn’t good at arguing, it always made her cry, but she bit her tongue, and strengthened herself.

“It wasn't fake.” Maddie's voice was low, her eyes full of shame “But I don't want this. I…”

“I don’t care about your sorry excuses.” she said cold, her whole body tense “You made your choice, and that's all I care about. If you don't want me, then you're not forced to stay.” she turned around.

“Maddie.”

“Maybe it's better like this.” Y/N looked at her hands, picking on her nails “There's a reason why I avoided relationships anyway.”

“Maddie.”

“I think I should go.” Maddie said.

“Maddie!” Buck shook her shoulder “Earth to sister, do you hear me?”

“Sorry.” Maddie snapped out, and looked around her brother's loft “What were we talking about?”

“My new workout plan, but whatever. You're not ever here. What's wrong?” he sat next to her on the bar stool.

Maddie sighed. She got lost in her thoughts again. It's not the first time since her break up with Y/N. Break up is not the right word, you can't break up if you're not even dating, but you also can't call a relationship a simple friendship when you slept together, shared dreams and fears, and questioned your sexuality.

“Y/N?” Buck asked uncertainly, and when his sister didn’t answer he knew he was right. He knew about her and Y/N, everybody knew about them. It was an open secret, but nobody knew what was exactly going on between the two girl.

“She's moving today.” Maddie licked her lips, her mouth was dry from the anxiety she felt the whole day.

“I know. She was at the station earlier, she said goodbye.” he put his hand on her back, rubbing it comfortingly “I’ll miss her. Vegas is not far, but it's not the same when we see her every day.”

Maddie fidgeted with her necklace. Her breathing was heavy, as so many times that day. Since she got to know from Hen that Y/N asked for a transfer, she was on the edge. A month passed since they ended things, but it didn’t get easier.

“Maddie, can I say something?” Buck asked.

“Sure.” she nodded.

“Whatever was going on between you and Y/N-”

“Evan, don't, please.” she looked down, feeling her stomach flipping.

“I love you, and I support you.” Buck said quickly, before Maddie could get out with some lame excuse “I don’t care if you're just friends, or girlfriends, or just casual partners. I love you, and nothing will change that.”

Maddie's heart was beating wild, she was stunned, her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. She felt overwhelmed, and strangely relieved, like not in a long time.

“I…I don't know what's going on with me. I never felt like this, and I'm scared. I shouldn't feel this, I mean I'm over thirty, I should've already figured this out.” Maddie's voice was weak, she held back the crying, and it choked her.

“Oh, Maddie.” Buck hugged her tightly, caressed her back, and gave a kiss on the top of her head “Feeling like this is perfectly fine. I know this feeling, the guilt, the uncertainty.”

He let her go, and looked at her.

“There's nothing wrong with loving your own gender. I don’t care who you love, I just want you to be happy and safe.” he pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.

“But that's the problem, Evan. I don’t…I'm not…not with other women. It's only about Y/N.” she said confused, a tear trickling down her cheek “I never felt this to other women, only to Y/N.”

“It doesn't matter. The only important thing is that you love her, and she loves you.”

“I don’t think she does anymore.”

“You don't know that. Listen, Maddie. I know it's not easy, and it won't be for a while, but if you really want her, then you have to fight for her.” he looked down for a moment, and sighed “Believe me, if you let her go now, you’ll regret it.”

Maddie knew he was right. If Y/N really wants to move, then she can't stop her, but she can't let her go without trying.

“I have to go.” she picked up her coat and bag, but before she left, she quickly gave a kiss on the cheek to Buck “I love you, too. Thank you.” she said, then she ran away.

Y/N didn’t live far from Buck's loft, and Maddie used all her power and strength to run as fast as she could. Her lungs were on fire while she reached her destination, but it was worth it. Y/N was still there, packing bags in her car. She stood three feet from her, as she tried to catch her breath. Y/N stopped packing the bags, and slowly turned around.

“What do you want?” she looked down on her “You ran here?” she asked, surprised.

“We have to talk.” Maddie started as she walked closer “Y/N, you can't leave.”

“Oh, and why not?” she huffed “You were clear. You don't want me, and I respect that, but I also want you to respect that…”

“I want you.” Maddie herself was surprised how easy it was to say it out loud, and how right it felt.

“Are you kidding me?” Y/N let out a sarcastic laugh “Maddie, what the actual fu…”

“I was wrong, and too scared to admit my feelings, even to myself.”

Y/N's face wasn't derisive anymore, but honestly surprised and a little sad. She folded her hands in front of her chest.

“Maddie, I-”

“I’ve never felt like this before, Y/N.” she stepped closer, her eyes sparkled with tears already “All these feelings, all these thoughts about you, about us. As much as I love them, they also scare me, because I’ve never felt like this for someone, especially for a woman. I just didn’t want to fight, I didn’t want to be scared again. I did these for too long.”

Y/N felt really bad for her, and she understood her. She went through the same process years ago.

“I just wanted to live a happy, calm life, but now I know that this isn’t possible without you.” her voice was high, the crying made her throat tight.

“I know this feeling.” Y/N turned around to put another bag in her car “When I was a teenager, I had this girl, Kim, in my class. We were friends, kinda. She was beautiful, smart, the kindest soul, but I was just finding out about my sexuality, my feelings for women. I was too ashamed, too scared to make a move, and when finally I was ready, she moved away for college.”

“Oh.” Maddie licked her lips as she looked down. She felt something very unpleasant, deep in her stomach. She was jealous, and she felt really stupid for it “Why don't you find her now?” she didn’t want her to find this Kim, but she wanted Y/N to be happy.

“Nah, last year I checked her social. She has two kids, and worst of all, she's married to a man.” she turned back, a little smile on her face.

Maddie giggled, she always loved Y/N’s humor, and she could always make her smile, even on her bad days. She loved when Y/N was a little flirty, so she decided to make her move.

“Well, at least I don't have a competitor.” she said with a teasing smile, trying to sound smug, but she was nervous.

“A competitor? In what? Breaking my heart?” Y/N asked, but she didn’t look mad, more sceptical “Okay, just to be clear. First you break our months long affair, then you watch for weeks as I suffer, only to when I'm finally ready to move on you come here, and you say you want me? Am I right?”

Maddie felt terribly guilty again. She never meant to hurt her, or play with her, and while she knew she was confused with her own feelings, she really played Y/N. She gave a small nod.

“Tell me one good reason why I should give us another chance.” Y/N put her hands in the pocket of leather jacket, and leaned on her car.

Maddie's mind was running at high speed. She wanted to say too much at once. She wanted to say that she knew Y/N like nobody else, that she knew her dreams, her fear of losing someone, her beliefs in humanity, and her doubt in herself. She wanted to say that she could make her happy, that she would give her everything, and would gladly improve to be with her.

“Because I love you.” Maddie said finally, because from all the things she wanted to say, that was the most important.

Y/N's neutral face fell, a touched, emotional look appeared, then she smiled.

“You could have just said you can make good cookies,” she said with a teasing smile “and you have good tits.”

Maddie looked surprised, her cheeks flushed, but she wasn’t offended, not even a bit.

“Sorry, that was disrespectful.” Y/N said, her heart beating fast, she really felt bad “I’m just nervous, but still, this wasn’t a nice thing to throw at you…I mean, of course you have nice breasts, that wasn't even a question, it just…”

Maddie let out a whole hearted laugh, her smile reached her ears, and this made Y/N smile, too.

“Please, don't go.” Maddie said as she stepped closer.

“Well, I guess the transfer can be undone.” she smiled, and pulled her closer by her arms “Do you really mean it? Do you really want to start again with me?” she asked hopeful.

“There's nothing I want more.” Maddie said, and pulled her into a tight hug.

#maddie buckley x reader

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sapphirest0nes · 2 months ago

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reblog bc I love my girlfriend and there is a serious lack of Maddie fics especially wlw 🥰

Stuck together

Description: Y/N suffers an injury, and Maddie, while being the worried girlfriend she is, being there for her.

Tags: fluff, comfort, wlw, girls in love, little humor, Y/N is a firefighter

Maddie arrived home after a long shift. She's pretty tired, she dealt with too many bad calls, but the thought that Y/N was at home made her smile. Sometimes she couldn't believe how far they'd come. When she first realised that she's in love with Y/N, Maddie was confused and scared. It was hard for her to trust again, but she was glad they worked it out.

She walked in the kitchen.

"Hey, Y/N." she smiled as she called out her name. She knew Y/N finished her shift before her. They always sent messages to each other when they arrived at work or home. It wasn't about trust or jealousy, it was about knowing if the other is okay.

They didn’t care where the other was, they cared if they're safe.

"Hey." she heard Y/N's tired voice "I warn you, I'm not a good sight, but I promise it's not as bad as it looks.”

Maddie chuckled, her heart feeling warm at the sound of Y/N's voice. "I'm sure you look as beautiful as ever, no matter how bad you look." she teases.

"Well, I warned you. " she said embarrassed.

As Maddie walked in the living room, she gasped as she saw Y/N with a bandage on her hand, and a bruise on her face.

Maddie hurried over to her, concern etched on her face. "Oh my, Y/N, what happened?" she asked, her voice filled with worry.

"I fell from a roof." she said, her tone dismissive, as she gently touched the bruise on her face. "It's no big deal, really. I just landed wrong."

"No big deal?" Maddie asked, her tone concerned "Are you kidding me? You fell from a roof, of course it's a big deal."

"It was just a garage, and I mostly landed on your brother." Y/N said with a little smile “Don't worry, he got away easier than me. He only got a few bruises on his arm.”

Maddie relaxed a little. "You're lucky it wasn't anything higher." she said, sighing in relief as she shook her head.

"I know." she said with a nod, a small smirk on her face "I wouldn't want to give you any more reasons to worry."

Maddie rolled her eyes playfully. "Yeah, cause you never give me a reason to worry, right?" she teased, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

“I’m sorry, baby.” Y/N looked at her with a little shame in her eyes. She hated to make Maddie worried.

“Hey, no.” Maddie knew her too well, she knew that her girlfriend feels guilty about things she can't control. Maddie put her hand on Y/N’s face, her soft skin contacted with the other’s warm cheek “It’s not your fault. You just did your job, you tried to save someone.”

“We were rescuing a cheating husband.” she said with a little smile “The wife tried to beat him with a tennis racket, and to hide from her he jumped from their window, straight onto the garage roof.”

“Ah, men.” Maddie giggled “And you were the one who fell off. Life is not fair.”

“You tell me.”

Maddie looked at Y/N with a loving smile on her face as she pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Please, be careful.” she said quietly “I can't lose you.”

“Don’t worry.” Y/N grabbed her hand gently and gave a kiss on it “You can't get rid of me. We're stuck together like the wife and her tennis racket.” she tried to look serious, but her smile gave her away.

“You’re such a fool.” Maddie gave her a little hit on the arm, but her tone was anything but mad “Your only luck is that I love you.”

“I love you, too.” she said, now seriously, and pulled her into a kiss.

#maddie buckley x reader

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sapphirest0nes · 2 months ago

Text

one of my fav fics I’ve read lately!! 🫶🏻

Rage | Eddie Diaz

Summary: After a hectic morning, Eddie and (Y/n) are on their way to the firehouse to start their shift. But the drive doesn’t go as planned when Eddie completely misjudges the situation on the freeway and they end up in a car accident.

Trigger warnings: Car accident, blood and graphic injury description, medical trauma, panic attack / anxiety, drunk driving, bit of violence.

Request: @megafandomsxassemble

Request status: OPEN ✨

9-1-1 Masterlist

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

The scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as Eddie stood in the kitchen, pouring the dark liquid into two to-go cups. The morning sun peeked in through the blinds, casting soft strips of light across the counter. One hand held a cup steady, while the other reached blindly for a lid.

“Chris! Let’s go, buddy!” Eddie called out, his voice echoing down the hall as he snapped the second lid on the other mug. He didn’t even have to check the clock to know they were running late. At this point he was used to them being late.

From somewhere deeper in the house, (Y/n)’s voice answered, laced with frustration. “I can’t find my other shoe!” Eddie glanced up, amused. He could already picture her, half-dressed, hair still tousled from sleep, scrambling through the house like it was a scavenger hunt.

She came around the corner into the kitchen, hopping slightly as she wore only one sneaker and zipped up her LAFD hoodie. Her hair was wild and soft, and she used one hand to gather it into a quick bun. It wasn’t her usual clean, firehouse-ready one, but the messy kind she did when time was not on her side.

“Lost it again?” Eddie asked, sipping his coffee with a smirk as he leaned his lower back against the kitchen counter.

“I swear I saw it lying right here last night,” (Y/n) muttered, eyes scanning the floor, then opening the pantry like the shoe might’ve magically climbed onto a shelf.

Eddie watched her with a lazy smile. Her sleepy frustration was oddly cute, and he loved this little chaotic piece of their mornings more than he’d ever admit out loud.

Just then, the familiar thud of crutches echoed down the hall. Chris appeared at the edge of the dining room, steady as always, pushing the shoe forward from underneath one of the dining room chairs “You mean this one?” Chris asked.

(Y/n)’s head popped around the doorframe, and her eyes locked onto the missing sneaker lying on the floor in front of Chris’ crutches. Relief washed over her face. “Chris! You’re a lifesaver.” she said, sounding like the shoe like it was her long-lost soulmate.

She rushed over and took it, dropping down to one knee and started to put the long lost shoe on. Chris raised a brow, curious. “Why were you looking for your shoe in the kitchen?” he asked.

(Y/n) froze mid-lace.

She blinked. Good question. A very good question.

Eddie, still in the kitchen, perked up immediately, like he knew this was going to be good. (Y/n) blinked, suddenly very aware that her searching area made no sense. At least, for him.

“Uhh…” she stalled, her voice faltering as her gaze slowly lifted toward Eddie, who was now watching her over the rim of his coffee cup as he leaned against the doorframe from the kitchen, clearly amused. Then she looked back at Chris, and tried to think fast.

“You know… things happen. Sometimes shoes… travel.” she said as she turned to Eddie for help once more. He offered none. Not at first. Just raised his eyebrows and took another sip.

Chris gave her a look. “And you thought your shoe would be behind the fridge?” he asked, trying to make sense of it. “I don’t know, Chris,” she said, tying her laces faster. “It’s early, my brain’s still warming up.”

Eddie pushed himself off the door frame, sipping his coffee slowly, very amused. “I’m dying to hear this logic, honestly.” Eddie then said. (Y/n) shot him a narrow-eyed look. “Don’t you have something better to do? Like being on time?”

“Nope. Watching this unfold is the highlight of my morning,” he said, handing her the second coffee cup as she stood up.

She snatched it playfully, brushing her fingers against his. “Thank you. For the coffee and your unwavering support.” she said.

“Always,” he said, leaning in for a quick kiss on her temple. Then he turned towards his son, “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, bud.” he continued.

Chris smirked, shaking his head. “You guys are weird.” And sighed like a kid who had already seen too much adult nonsense for a Monday morning.

“We know,” they both answered in unison. “Let’s just go before I lose something else, like my dignity.” she whispered softly at Eddie.

“Too late,” Eddie muttered under his breath, but the playful glint in his eye gave him away.

With Chris by the door, (Y/n) finally fully dressed, and coffee in hand and duffle bags on the other, the three of them finally tumbled out of the house.

Eddie eased the car into the disabled parking space near the front of the school. He shifted the car into park, glanced at the clock on the dashboard, and sighed. Barely on time. Not bad, considering the morning shoe crisis.

He popped open his door and stepped out of the driver’s side, the spring air still carrying a hint of coolness. Without missing a beat, he walked around to the backseat and opened it, reaching in to pull out Chris’s crutches.

Inside the car, Chris was already moving like clockwork. He unbuckled his seatbelt with a click, swung his backpack over his shoulder as he put his arm through the other loop and pushed open the door where Eddie stood waiting with his usual, patient smile.

“Here you go, buddy.” Eddie handed him the crutches gently as Chris stepped out of the car. Chris took them without looking up “Thanks.” he said, and slipped his arms through the plastic.

Eddie closed the door behind Chris, the solid thunk of it echoing in the small morning bustle of the parking lot. The noise of students, parents, and teachers swirled around them. Voices calling out, backpacks rustling, cars pulling up and away.

(Y/n) rolled down her window from the passenger seat, watching the moment unfold with a soft smile.

Eddie crouched in front of Chris, one of his hands resting on Chris’ shoulder, and the other one on his knee like he always did when he needed his son to really listen.

“You remembered your math homework, right?” Eddie asked as he tried to make eye contact with him. Chris let out an exaggerated sigh. “Yes, Dad.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Not stuffed in the bottom of your bag? Not forgotten on your desk? Not being used as a bookmark in your comic book?” he asked. Chris’ eyes connected with his dad’s. “Daaaad,” Chris groaned, rolling his eyes. “I got it, okay?”

(Y/n) had to stifle a laugh from her seat. Eddie smirked but softened as he reached out and let go of Chris’ shoulder.“I know, I know,” he said, ruffling Chris’s hair. “I’m just doing my job. The annoying dad part.” Eddie continued.

Chris gave him a tired look that said: you’re doing it very well. Eddie leaned in and pressed a kiss to the top of Chris’ head. “I love you, okay?”

“Dad!” Chris hissed in embarrassment, eyes darting toward a group of kids walking by. “You’re embarrassing me in front of people!” he mumbled as a smirk appeared on Eddie’s face. “Good. It’s in the contract,” he grinned, his eyes soft. “Embarrass you now, pay for therapy later.”

Chris groaned and rolled his eyes as he turned and started toward the school entrance. “Have a good day!” Eddie called after him, “Oh and don’t trade your snacks!” he added.

“Daaad!” Chris yelled back, not turning around. And then he was gone, just another kid with a backpack vanishing into the group of students.

(Y/n) laughed from inside the car, shaking her head. “You really live to torment that kid.” she said as she looked to the side, watching Eddie getting in the car.

Eddie slipped back into the driver’s seat, his smile lingering. “Gotta enjoy it while I can. In a few years he'll still be embarrassed, but with a deeper voice and probably facial hair.”

“He’ll still be rolling his eyes at your jokes.” she said as she smiled and took a sip from her coffee.

“Absolutely,” Eddie said, starting the car. “Oh—by the way, I told him Tía Rosa’s picking him up today. She said she’d take him for ice cream if he finishes his homework”

“Did you remind him about that?” She asked as she let the back of her head fall against the headrest and looked at Eddie. “Only six times,” Eddie deadpanned. (Y/n) chuckled as Eddie put the car in reverse.

Eddie pulled away, his fingers tapped rhythmically against the steering wheel. “I always feel like we forgot something.” (Y/n) smiled, as she glanced at Eddie. “You packed his lunch, embarrassed him… That’s everything.” she said and placed her hand onto his, that was resting on the armrest in between the passenger and driver. Eddie smiled as he felt her thumb softly tracing over his hand, his eyes locked on the road. “Yeah. I guess that is everything.”

The freeway stretched out in front of them, long and open beneath a soft blue sky. Morning sunlight spilled across the dashboard, painting golden streaks over Eddie’s forearms as he drove. (Y/n) sat beside him, her coffee now half-empty, hair still slightly messy, but that early morning panic had finally faded.

Eddie’s hand rested on the steering wheel, fingers tapping a lazy beat. He glanced over at (Y/n), who was finishing her coffee, hoodie sleeves rolled up, legs curled beneath her in the passenger seat.

Eddie glanced over at her with a small smirk. He couldn’t help it. “So… the kitchen, huh?”

(Y/n) let out a sigh, already rolling her eyes at the sentence. “You’re really not gonna let that go?” She asked. Eddie chuckled, looking at her for a quick second before focusing back on the road. “You froze like Chris caught you committing a federal crime. No comeback, no lie, just panic.”

“I was caught off guard!” she said as she tried not to smile when she thought back at the moment of this morning. Eddie raised an eyebrow. “You really had nothing. Not even a fake excuse.”

“I really thought my shoe was in the kitchen,” she mumbled as she took a sip of her coffee. “Well, yeah, because that’s where you launched it. Right after you climbed up on the counter.” he said, while an agreeing look took over his face.

Her head snapped toward him. “Excuse me? I did not climb anything.” she shot back at him. “You totally did,” he teased. “And I blacked out after. I mean, we had just gotten off a 24-hour shift, and then you… you were just standing there. Hoodie, messy hair, tired face. I lost it.” Eddie admitted as he glanced back at her.

“You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.” she accused him. Eddie laughed, his fingers tapping the steering wheel. “You were just as bad. You kept brushing up against me at work, touching my arm and looking at me like that.” he said.

“I handed you a clipboard, Eddie.” (Y/n) said as her eyebrows furrowed at his words. “And I pinned you against the truck,” he grinned.

“That was a two-second moment!” She said. “Hmm.. for you maybe. It felt like hours to me. Torture.” he said, glancing back at (Y/n). She shook her head, smiling, cheeks a little warmer than a second ago now.

“Oh, and don’t think I forgot about the bathroom,” (Y/n) said, glancing at Eddie with a teasing smirk. Eddie’s brows lifted, already sensing where this was going. “What bathroom?” he asked, trying to act innocent and not knowing.

“That was all you,” she added, sipping from her coffee with a mocking look on her face, like she’d just presented a final piece of evidence. Eddie let out a half-laugh, mouth hanging open in disbelief. “You kissed me first!” he said.

“Because you pulled me in there!” Her eyes widened like she couldn’t believe they were actually arguing about this, but the smile tugging at the corners of her lips said otherwise. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, both from laughter and from the memory.

Eddie shook his head as he drove, a grin spread across his face. “Because you were looking at me like you were gonna kiss me in front of Bobby!” he said. She scoffed, shifting in her seat, turning toward him. “I—what?! No I wasn’t!” she stumbled.

“Yes you were,” he said, glancing quickly at her. There was a fire in his eyes now. Not angry kind, just playful and maybe a little smug. “You gave me that look. The firehouse hallway look.” he said then. (Y/n) blinked, then narrowed her eyes, leaning in just slightly. “What look is that?” she asks, confused as she placed the coffee back into the cup holder.

“The one that says: ‘I’d climb you like a ladder if Buck wasn’t two feet away.’”

Her jaw dropped and she immediately burst out laughing, one hand flying to cover her face. Her hoodie sleeve slipped slightly down her wrist as she leaned against the door, trying to pull herself together. “You are so dramatic” she managed through her laughter.

“I’m passionate,” Eddie said proudly, placing a dramatic hand over his heart like he was quoting Shakespeare, with his eyes twinkling. “You’re impossible,” she replied, cheeks still flushed as she wiped a tear of laughter away. Her bun had started to come loose from all the movement, stray hairs framing her face.

“And I was going insane,” Eddie added, his voice serious. “I couldn’t touch you for twenty-four hours except in secret. Do you know what that does to a man?” She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling.

“You bit my lip, remember?” he added, looking to his right. “That was because someone walked in!” she tried to defend herself, trying to keep a straight face and failing. “I was bleeding,” Eddie said, holding up his finger as if to prove the severity of the wound, but there was barely even a wound there.

“You survived.”

Eddie smiled and reached over, resting his hand gently on her thigh. His thumb rubbed slow circles. His voice softened. “I’d do it all over again, though.” (Y/n) glanced over, her smile quieter now. “Yeah?”

“Every shift. Every morning. You’re worth it.” he told her as he took a second to look straight into her eyes.

They sat in that soft silence for a moment. It felt nice. It was almost like a calm before the storm. But then Eddie’s eyes flicked to the road ahead, and that feeling started to slip.

A black car in front of them was swerving across lanes, it was going way too fast and moving way too broad. Eddie frowned, “What the hell is this guy doing?”

(Y/n) sat up straighter. “He’s all over the road. Is he drunk?” she said as she frowned at the image. The warm hand of Eddie let go of (Y/n)’s thigh as he leaned forward and his hands were tightening on the wheel. “Has to be. He’s going, what… ninety? Maybe more.”

The sedan veered again, hard, and nearly clipped the car next to it. Horns blared. It recovered only to accelerate, erratically, like the driver had no idea what they were doing or didn’t care. “I’m not staying behind him,” Eddie muttered, switching lanes. “I’m gonna pass.”

“Just be careful,” she said quietly. “I’ve got it.”

Eddie turned on the turn signal and switched lanes as he stepped on the gas. He tried to pass the black car. But just as they pulled up beside it, the car didn’t make a small swerve like he had before. No, this time he made a much larger one.

No signal. No warning. Just pure, reckless speed. And it slammed directly into their passenger side.

It all happened so fast. The sound was deafening.

The sound of shattered glass, screeching metal and tires, airbags burst, white clouds filling the air as screams filled the small, tight space.

The truck tipped, then flipped. Once. Twice. Suddenly it felt like they were in some kind of fairground attraction they didn’t sign up for.

They were weightless and heavy all at once. Flung and yanked. Eddie’s head hit the headrest hard, his vision blurring. (Y/n)’s body was thrown to the side, her head snapping back against the window before the seatbelt caught her.

They landed hard on the passenger’s side, and back onto four wheels again. The car slowly came to a stop, and for a moment there was silence. Silence or a breath, and a heartbeat.

But then a second car, unable to stop in time, plowed into them from the side. The force sent their (already) destroyed car crashing into the guardrail, before it finally came to a stop. The truck flipped one more time and landed upside down.

Smoke was coming from the hood, and a soft hiss of leaking fluids sounded in the car. The distant honk of other cars skidding to a halt on the freeway they were just on.

Inside the vehicle, the world was upside down. Blood trickled from Eddie’s brow. His ears were ringing. He gasped for air, body aching in ways he hadn’t yet registered and groaned at the pain. He blinked hard as he tried to get a clearer vision, but he was still disoriented.

Then his heart dropped. “(Y/n)…?” he choked out, turning his head, even though every muscle in his body protested.

She wasn’t moving.

His eyes locked onto her. Her head hung in an awkward angle against the seatbelt. Her face was pale, blood dripping from her temple. “Hey,” Eddie’s voice cracked. “Come on, baby, wake up.” he continued as he tried to reach for her, while ignoring the pain he felt in his body.

(Y/n) was pinned in her seat. The metal had crumpled into her side, her hoodie was partly soaked in blood. He didn’t know how deep the metal rod was. He didn’t want to know. But it was enough to make his vision blur.

“No no no no no,” he whispered. “Please, open your eyes.” he begged, his voice was raw and trembling. “You’ve gotta stay with me, okay? Stay with me.” he cried. But she didn’t answer, Eddie felt like the air had been knocked from his lungs all over again when she didn’t answer, or even gave any sign of life.

He knew he shouldn’t move. He knew staying still was the safest thing after a crash like that. His training screamed at him to wait for help. But that voice, the smart, calm, firefighter one, was nowhere to be found at this moment.

All he could hear was her breathing faltering and that silence between her breaths was louder than any alarm he’d ever heard.

Eddie gritted his teeth and fought with his own seatbelt while the blood was rushing to his head. The seatbelt finally gave way, dropping him hard onto the ceiling, (which was now the floor) of the ruined car. His ribs ached in protest, but he didn't stop. He groaned as he pressed a hand onto the painful spot, and he dragged himself toward the shattered driver’s side.

He pushed glass out of his way with raw hands. He didn’t care if glass would cut into his hand, it had already cut his knees, but he didn’t feel a single piece of glass in his skin. The adrenaline was rushing through his veins.

He had to get to her. He had to help her. He couldn’t just stand there and do nothing.

He crawled through the window on the driver’s side, glass cutting into his palms and his legs which were barely working. The morning temperature hit his skin like a slap, but he barely felt it. His entire body was focused on one thing, and that was his girl.

The air reeked of burning rubber and leaking gasoline. People were shouting nearby, tires screeching in the distance, but it all sounded muffled. It was almost like he was underwater.

Eddie pushed himself onto his feet, but almost lost his balance. But his hands quickly grabbed the car to keep him on two feet. He walked as fast as he could around the car.

When he reached the passenger side, he could barely recognize the door. It was caved in completely. But he could see her face through the shattered glass, pale and bloody and still not moving.

Eddie's hands were trembling, without a single thought he braced himself against the door and tried to pull it back, muscles screaming with effort. “Come on!” he grunted, chest heaving. “Just- open- damn it- open!” he cried desperately.

Nothing gave.

He stepped back, his breath stuttering while he blinked through the sting in his eyes. He had to get help. He needed his team here. Now.

He fumbled for his phone, almost dropping it with how slick his fingers were. Blood, sweat, oil, he didn’t even know. His hands were still shaking, panic setting in. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind, but somehow he managed to hit Buck’s name in the contact list.

Eddie pressed the phone to his ear, pacing in small, frantic circles like he could outrun the panic crawling up his spine. “Come on, come on, pick up, please.” he whispered.

First ring. Second ring. Third ring.

He was sure the next thing he was going to hear was the voicemail of Buck. But then he heard his best friend's voice through the phone. “Eddie?” he spoke on the other side of the line, his voice loud compared with the sirens on the background.

Silence.

“Eddie? Hey, can you hear me?”

Still nothing.

Just static, and something… shallow. Breathing. Shaky. Ragged. Like someone was gasping through tears, like someone was trying not to fall apart. Buck’s stomach dropped.

“Eddie? Talk to me, man. What’s going on?” He knew Eddie was on the other side of the phone. This wasn’t just some butt dial. But the sounds through the phone.. He just knew something wasn’t right.

More silence. A soft thud. A crackle of air. The faintest sound of someone moving and still no words.

Eddie didn’t know what was happening. He wanted to say so much, but simply couldn’t get the words out.

“Eddie?”

There was a pause… and then, finally, a single, broken word finally came out of his mouth. “…Buck.” The sound of it… raw and strained.

“Jesus. What happened? Are you okay? Where are you? Is Chris okay?” Buck asked.

A beat of hesitation.

“Not Chris,” Eddie finally managed to bring out, his voice catching in his throat. “It’s- (Y/n).” The name barely made it out. “We were driving. She…” He choked again.

The words were there, but they just wouldn’t come out. His chest felt too tight, like the panic was caving in from all sides, pressing down until nothing made sense except the urge to do something.

“She’s not moving. Buck, I can’t get the door open. There’s- there’s metal through her side, I think- I think it went all the way through-” he rattled.

“Okay, hey,” Buck cut in, trying to keep his voice steady even though his own heart had started to pound. “You’re doing great. We’re already en route. Bobby said it was a multi-car pileup- are you on the 405?” Buck then asked.

“Yes- yeah,” Eddie stammered, breath catching again as he glanced back at her. “She’s bleeding. A lot. And I- I can’t get her out. I tried. The door’s stuck. She’s not- she hasn’t opened her eyes.” Eddie continued as he ran a hand through his hair.

His voice cracked, and for a second, Buck could hear the weight of everything Eddie was holding back. The fear, the helplessness, the sheer horror of watching the person he loved bleed out in front of him. And the worst part? He couldn’t fix it. Not without the right tools.

“You don’t have to get her out,” Buck said firmly. “You know that, Eddie. We’ve got the jaws. We’ll get her. You just stay with her. Don’t move her. Keep talking to her. Keep her grounded, okay?”

“I can’t lose her.” Eddie’s voice broke entirely now, soft cries sounding through the phone. “Buck, I can’t—she’s all banged up and it’s bad, and she hasn’t said a word-”

“You’re not gonna lose her,” Buck said, instantly cutting off Eddie, his voice direct. “You hear me? You are not losing her. We are minutes out. I just need you to hang on.” Eddie nodded, he needed to keep hope. His jaw clenched as he wiped at his face, smearing blood and tears alike.

“She’s gonna be okay,” Buck said again, steady. They hung up before they could share another word. Eddie swallowed hard and crouched lower to the shattered window, brushing a shaking hand over (Y/n)’s cheek.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he whispered. “You stay with me. Just stay with me.”

Eddie was still crouched at her side, the glass from the passenger side window that had shattered cutting into his knees, his hands covered in blood, sweat and oil. His fingers brushed her cheek again. “Hey... hey, (Y/n) help is on the way..” he whispered, voice shaking. “You’re doing so good. Just keep breathing, okay?”

For the first time she gave some sign of life. (Y/n) let out a weak groan as her lashes slightly stick against the blood on her skin. Her body was limp but trembling. The twisted metal of the car door pressed in cruelly against her torso, and that goddamn jagged piece of steel impaled through her side made Eddie feel like he couldn’t breathe.

His lungs pulled in air, but it wasn’t enough. It didn’t reach his chest.

Then the sirens hit the scene, rushing toward them like a wave. But Eddie didn’t feel any relief. His mind was stuck in static. Everything was noise except her.

“Almost there,” he murmured as another groan left (Y/n)’s lips.

The flashing lights painted his face red and blue as the truck of the 118 came to a stop nearby. He heard Buck’s voice calling out to him but Eddie didn’t respond. He couldn’t pull himself away from her.

“Eddie!” Buck ran to his side. “Hey—Eddie, are you okay?” Buck asked as he saw the status of Eddie. His best friend looked like he came straight from the battlefield. Parts of his body were covered in blood and sweat.

But Eddie didn’t answer his words. Couldn’t. Eddie’s jaw clenched as he stared down at her. His hands were shaking so badly now he had to clench them into fists just to stop.

“She’s- she’s not responding like before,” he finally stumbled. “She was... I don’t know if it hit an organ- there’s too much blood.” he choked out the sentences. Buck placed a steady hand on Eddie’s shoulder, grounding him. “Hen’s going to check her, Chim is already getting the stabilization.We’ve got it.” But Eddie couldn’t move, it was like his legs were cemented down to this part of the 705.

It wasn’t until Bobby stepped forward and gently said, “We need to get her out, Eddie. Let them work,” that made him back off. He rose stiffly, his limbs roaring in pain. But he didn’t feel any of it. Not really. His eyes flicked toward the wreckage down the road, and that’s when he saw it.

The other car.

The man inside was still behind the wheel, upright. Still breathing. Not a single drop of blood on him.

Something twisted in Eddie’s gut and it made his blood boil. That was him. The guy who hit them. The guy who almost killed them. The guy who almost killed her.

His breathing quickened, and his fists clenched. Bobby noticed the shift in Eddie’s posture instantly as he guided him a bit back so Bobby’s team could do their job. “Hey,” Bobby said carefully. “Eddie, don’t. I know what you’re thinking.”

“You don’t,” Eddie said, voice low and still shaking. “You don’t know.” he added. “I do,” Bobby stepped between him and the wreck. “But now is not the time.” he continued, trying to help Eddie take his mind off whatever he was planning on doing.

“He was drunk.” Eddie’s voice cracked. “He hit her side. He aimed for her, Bobby. He- he almost…” Eddie stopped, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles went white.

“I know,” Bobby said gently. “But let the cops handle it. Let the system do what it’s supposed to do.” his captain advised.

But that wasn’t good enough. Not for Eddie. Not when he could still hear her gasping for air in the background. Not when her blood was drying on his palms.

Bobby turned to give an order to Chim, just for a moment. One small silly second. And that’s all it took. “Eddie!” Bobby called, alarmed, but it was too late.

Eddie broke into a walk straight toward the black car, determined. He didn’t think. Didn’t plan. “Eddie!” Bobby called, alarmed, but it was too late. Eddie was already there. He ripped the car door open and grabbed the man by his jacket, yanking him out of the car.

“You almost killed her!” Eddie roared, his voice cracking. He slammed the man into the side of his car. The man stammered, but Eddie didn’t hear him. His vision tunneled, fists tightening.

“You ran us off the road like her life meant nothing! Like we meant nothing!” He shoved the guy again, harder this time.

The drunk man started to mumble something, maybe an apology, maybe just nonsense. But Eddie’s hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of his shirt.

“If she dies,” he snarled, eyes burning with something feral, “if she doesn’t wake up… I swear to God…” he gasped. “Eddie!” Buck’s voice rang through the tension, closer now.

“-I’ll make sure you never forget what you did.” The man groaned, reeking of alcohol. Eddie raised a fist. Muscles tight, the urge burning in his veins like gasoline ready to ignite.

Buck’s voice hit him like a wave. He was running full speed, eyes wide and panicked. “Eddie, stop!” Buck sounded. But Eddie didn’t stop. Buck lunged and wrapped both arms around his friend, pulling him back with everything he had. “Don’t do this!” Buck shouted as he let go of Eddie when he started to wrestle himself out of Buck’s grip. Buck stood between Eddie and the drunk driver, trying to keep his best friend away from the man. “You lay a hand on him, and you’re the one in cuffs!” he continued as he came closer to Eddie.

Eddie’s eyes were wild, there was a fire within his eyes. “She could die! He did this! He was drinking-” he choked out the words, stumbling over each one of them. “I know, I know,” Buck said, voice cracking. “But you don’t get to make it right by losing yourself, Eddie.”

Eddie went still, chest heaving, hands trembling at his sides.

“She needs you, Eddie.” Buck said softer now. “She needs you there. Not behind bars. There. Holding her hand. You think she wants to wake up and not see you?” Buck continued.

Eddie’s throat burned. He looked back toward the ambulance where Hen was still working on (Y/n), her hand twitching slightly like she was reaching for someone who wasn’t there. The fight drained out of him all at once.

He looked over Buck’s shoulder for a second. “You’re lucky he’s here.” he hissed at the man, disgust curling his lip. And with those words, he walked away from the man.

The waiting room was too quiet. Not the kind of silence that brought peace. Eddie’s hands were trembling. He had his elbows on his knees, head bowed forward, eyes fixed on the floor tiles like they held answers he craved for so badly. But they didn’t. Nothing did.

Blood had dried on his knuckles, tracing over cuts that still had some slivers of glass in it. His palms were raw, his knees bruised and scraped. There was blood caked on his pants, his arms, and somewhere under all of it, a dull, throbbing pain in his ribs from where the seatbelt had clenched around him. But none of that mattered.

A gentle voice broke through the silence of the waiting room. “Eddie.” But he didn’t look up. “Hey,” the voice said again, softer now. A second later, a cool plastic bottle of water was pressed lightly into his hand. “Here. Just… take a sip, alright?” Buck’s voice sounded.

Eddie blinked slowly, like the water had just appeared out of nowhere. He looked down at it, then his fingers curled around it. But he didn’t drink the water. He just held it in his hand, letting condensation spread across the small cuts in his hand.

Buck sat down beside him, not saying anything for a moment.

“You need to get checked out,” he finally broke the silence. “You’re still bleeding.” he added as he looked at his broken, best friend. “I’m fine.” Eddie said, not even looking at him. His voice was low, almost toneless.

“No, you’re not. And it’s okay not to be. But she wouldn't want to see you like this.” Buck said. Making Eddie’s grip tighten on the bottle. He swallowed hard against whatever emotion was creeping up his chest.

“I keep seeing her… the way her eyes rolled back, the blood… I didn’t know if—” He finally said, his voice cracked, and he stopped talking.

Buck leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, mirroring Eddie’s posture. “You were in the crash too, man,” Buck said quietly as he kept his eyes locked on the side profile of Eddie. “You’ve got glass in your hands and probably your knees. You’re still bleeding from your eyebrow, and I’m pretty sure your ribs are messed up.”

Eddie didn’t respond, just stared at the water bottle like it was the only thing holding him together.

“She wouldn’t want you sitting here, hurting. Torturing yourself. You know that, right?” Buck continued. “She wants you okay. She wants to wake up and see you okay.”

Eddie exhaled, a sound that was half a sigh, half a choked breath. He brought the water to his lips with a shaky hand and took one slow sip. “Let the nurses take a look at you,” Buck said gently. “Just a quick check. Get stitched up. Sit down somewhere where they can actually help you, not just... watch you fall apart in a waiting room.” Buck advised him.

Eddie hesitated. Then nodded. Not for himself, but because she would want him to.

Buck stood with him, steadying him as he swayed slightly on his feet, and walked him down the hallway toward an exam room. Eddie didn’t ask questions. Didn’t protest this time. But the whole way down the hall, while he had the water bottle still clutched in his hand. He kept looking over his shoulder… waiting for someone, anyone to come out of those double doors.

The moment one of the nurses came into the room where Eddie was being treated, and told him (Y/n) was out of surgery, he was up and already speed walking through the hallway. He just needed to see her.

Eddie opened the door to the hospital room, and stepped inside. The room was still dim, the blinds drawn to keep the harsh sunlight out. The steady beep of the heart monitor and the hum of the IV were the only sounds aside from the soft conversations of nurses outside the door.

When he stepped into her room, everything else fell away.

His eyes locked onto her. Her nose cannula was gently in place. There were IV lines, bandages, bruises, and her left arm was immobilized, but her chest was rising. Steady.

Eddie’s steps were slow, cautious, like approaching a dream he was terrified might disappear if he touched it. He reached her bedside, eyes locked on her face, pale, a little swollen, but hers.

Her eyes blinked open slowly, heavy from meds but not as foggy as before. She squinted up at him, throat dry as hell when she croaked “Eddie?” Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

But his whole body sank beside her, one hand carefully finding hers, mindful of her IVs and bruises. “Yeah, baby. I’m here.” he whispered, brushing his thumb over the skin, letting her know he was there.

Her eyes filled with tears. “You’re okay?” He let out a breath, part laugh, part sob. “You’re asking me?” he said as he placed his other hand on top of her head.

“You were bleeding,” she whispered, eyes already drooping again. Eddie brushed her hair back gently, thumb grazing her temple. “I’m fine,” he said softly. “A few scratches. Nothing like you.”

She tried to smile, but it hurt, and her face tightened. Eddie kissed her knuckles instead. “You look like hell.” She said then, the look in her eyes was more clear and present now.

Eddie snorted through a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “Yeah? You should see the other guy.” he answered as a smile was projected onto his face.

“I did. They wheeled him past, but I’m pretty sure he threw up on a nurse.” she said. “That’s fair,” Eddie muttered, letting his hand drag down his face for a second, exhausted. “I almost did too. Right before I saw all that blood, the metal rod went through my side and thought my soul was leaving my body.” she admitted.

Eddie was smiling now. He was tired, relieved, and entirely too in love. “You know,” he said, gently brushing her hand with his thumb, “You scared the hell out of me,” he said, his voice thick. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Well, I’m sorry. I didn’t plan to get hit by a car.” she mumbled, words slurred with the meds.

He let out a broken laugh, eyes brimming now. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He bowed his head toward their joined hands, pressing her fingers to his lips like a prayer.

She turned her head slightly, eyes softer now. “You okay?” she asked when she looked him in the eyes for a moment.

He let out a trembling sigh, but eventually nodded. “I am now.” he said softly. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “But I mean it. Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

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