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ivegotyourbackbuddie · 2 months

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Waiting for a scene where Buck and Eddie are discussing their dating woes at the station, and Buck jokes, “Maybe we should spare the Los Angeles population and just date each other.”

And while Eddie laughs it off, Hen swoops in to say, “No, I think you might be onto something.”

Eddie suddenly stops laughing as Buck goes, “Huh?”

“Why not just date each other?” Hen asks as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Chimney laughs, “Hell, you’re already practically a couple.”

And while Buck and Eddie stammer out no we’re not and it’s not like that. Chimney crosses his arms and looks at Buck. “What was it that you said to me and Maddie about how we were already a couple? Something about how ‘you always are talking and texting, you do karaoke together, you do buff-fridays together, and you finish each other’s sentences…’”

“You remember that with a shockingly high amount of detail,” Buck says to try to turn the conversation away from him.

“And Buck and I don’t do ‘Buff-Fridays’ together…”

“We do pasta and a movie with Chris,” Buck says, finishing Eddie’s sentence.

Hen and Chimney exchange a look.

Eddie frowns and says, “Okay, we do those things, but how are we any different from the two of you?”

Chimney deadpans, “When I first met Hen, I definitely didn’t want to sleep with her.”

“Hey! Maddie promised not to tell you that!”

“And she didn’t,” Chimney says with a smirk, “but you just confirmed my suspicions.”

Hen has the audacity to cackle while Buck and Eddie both shoot her a look which only spurs her on. She’s practically wheezing when she says, “You two are also practically co-parenting Christopher.”

“Which isn’t what people do when they’re dating. Sure, they can love my kid, but they can’t parent them. Now Buck is my best friend so he… he can… give him advice and help out…” Eddie argues weakly while Buck’s heart skips a beat because Eddie just practically said yes, Buck is a parent to Chris.

Finally Bobby joins the conversation to add, “You’re right. People who are casually dating usually don’t coparent a child. But people who are married do.”

This sends Chimney and Hen cackling while they gasp, “Oh my god. You guys aren’t just dating. You’re married.”

And before Eddie or Buck can argue with them, Ravi innocently asks, “But you guys broke up for a reason, right? I know you guys work great together, but getting back with your ex is usually a bad idea.”

Everyone just stares at him as Eddie defensively asks, “Since when did we ever date?”

And Ravi’s jaw drops as he answers, “I mean. When I joined the one-eighteen everyone said it was better to stay out of the whole Buck and Eddie thing and not ask questions. And someone told me about this fight in the middle of a grocery store which I thought meant a breakup but… oh god.”

Of course, Buck and Eddie can’t get a single word in as Hen, Chimney, and even Bobby start laughing as if it’s the funniest thing they’ve ever heard. The only thing that gets them to stop is when the bell rings, but even on the ride over, everyone - except Buck and Eddie - seem to have the giggles.

After the call, which is just a minor fender bender, everyone thankfully takes the advice given to Ravi and gives Buck and Eddie some space. But for the rest of the shift, the two just kind of stew in silence with their own thoughts.

At the end of the shift, everyone fleas from the locker area so Buck and Eddie are left alone. And after a few moments of torturous silence, Buck finally asks, “Why aren’t we dating?”

“Buck.”

“I mean they’re right. We’ve practically been dating this whole time - married even - just without the… physical stuff.”

Eddie just shrugs. “Physical stuff has ruined every relationship I’ve ever had.”

“It doesn’t have to.”

“But it has.” Eddie emphasizes his point by harshly shutting his locker and turning to Buck. “Why should I risk what you have with Chris - what you have with me - just for sex?”

“Because maybe it’s worth the risk. And maybe it wouldn’t be just sex. Eddie, you already have me. More than anyone else ever has. So why not date?”

“Buck…” Eddie trails off, endless emotions in that name.

Buck pushes on, stepping closer to him, “Give me one good reason why we shouldn’t try. And if you can’t give me a valid reason, then let me take you on a date.” Buck smiles softly. “I mean, we were already planning on getting breakfast in the morning. But this time I could pick you up and maybe hold your hand at the tabl-”

“Evan,” Eddie finally says which makes Buck’s heart drop. “Just… give me some time to think about it, okay?”

And Buck nods and holds his hands up while backing away. “Got it. Sorry for pushing. We can pretend it was a joke.” He tries not to look the way he feels - absolutely heartbroken.

Eddie just gives him a weak smile and grabs his things before heading toward the door only to stop in his tracks and walk to Buck. “Hey.”

Buck glances up at him, searching his expression for something.

Eddie grabs his shoulder, thumb resting above his collarbone. “We’re still good for breakfast tomorrow?”

Buck smiles and nods. “Yeah. Always.”

“Good,” Eddie states, lingering in the moment before his thumb moves slightly, caressing Buck’s collarbone for a moment before he steps away and leaves without another word.

Buck watches as he goes, placing his hand over where Eddie’s was. He can’t help but wonder if Eddie was testing the waters with that swipe of his thumb or trying to soothe Buck in his own way.

It’s only a few hours later when Buck can’t sleep that his phone lights up with a message from Eddie.

Let’s make it a date.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buck x eddie #buddie ficlet #buddie drabble #911 #911 abc #911 show

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evie-sturns · 5 months

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drunk - Chris Sturniolo

summary: you show up to you, and your boyfriend chris's home drunk after a girls night out. chris has to take care of you in your interesting... state.

contains: fluff, mentions of alcohol, vague mentions of throwing up, crying, swearing.

a/n: i wanted to do a little mature chris fic because i dont see enough of that, i hope you guys like this!!

--------------└─── °∘❉∘° ───┘---------------

tonight started as just me and 6 other friends at a club, before i left the house chris made it very clear i need to be home before midnight.

right now its 1:30 of the next morning, my friend grace is glued to my side as i cackle, watching her twerk on the dancefloor. i drag her to the bar, throwing back several more shots.

i'm not sure what time it is, or where the other 4 of my friends are but all i know is i should probably be getting home..

"graceee" i laugh, pulling out my phone and attempting to call an uber, all the text is jumbled. a girl walks by me, i grab her arm lightly and hand her my phone, "call me an uber please babe" i say to the girl, she smiles before handing my phone back shortly after,

"its coming in 10 minutes!!" she calls out over her shoulder as she walks away.

i drag grace out of the club as we laugh about nothing, the uber pulls up and we pile inside.

i stumble up the front porch of chris and i's house, swinging open the front door as it hits the wall with a bang, i let out a small laugh as my heels click against the wooden planks.

"chrissy!!" i yell out a stupid nickname, chris walks out from the bathroom, hes shirtless only wearing sweatpants, which sit dangerously low.

"where the fuck have you been!" chris says, his voice serious as he grips my wrist firmly.

"uh.. club? obviously," i say with an attitude.

"drop your tone, come with me." he says, pulling me down the corridor into his room.

"sit" chris says, dragging me over to the bed and gently placing me down on the end of his bed. he gets down on his knees and starts to undo the straps of my heels, pulling them off my feet. "ow christopher!! 'fuckin hurts." i whine, folding my arms

"do you know what time it is?" chris asks, "like 10pm? can you read a clock?" i reply with an eye roll, my tone slurred.

he stands up off his knees as he looks down at me on the bed, i look to the side, chris grabs my chin,

"look at me." he says, making me look up at him with the hand on my chin. he stares into my eyes,

i erupt into tears, "your mad at me and im really really sorry but i-.. i" i say as mascara starts to flow down my flushed cheeks.

chris shakes his head, closing his eyes "i'm not mad at you sweetheart." he says, picking me up off the bed and placing me on my feet,

"you wanna know what i think?" chris asks softly, i nod my head.

"i think you've had a bit too much to drink tonight, you think so too?" he says, putting my arms in the air and lifting my mini-dress up over my head,

he walks me over to his closet, pulling out a pair of my small pyjama shorts and one of his shirts, which pulls onto me.

"you look pale baby, do you feel sick?" chris says, speed-walking me into his bathroom to get off his carpet.

"yeah." i sniffle, he sits down next to the toilet on the cold marble tiles, he pulls me onto his lap where i stay on my knees.

all of the achohol i've had tonight exits my mouth into the toilet bowl, "there we are." chris says, stroking my hair as he holds it behind my head.

"good girl, your okay." he sighs, "at least all the shots are out now" he says, standing up and walking me over to the sink, leaning me over the sink and filling up his hands with water as a cup.

he pours it into my mouth with a small laugh, i swish it around before spitting it back into the sink.

"feeling a little better?" he asks, picking me up by my ass and taking me towards his bed.

"im sorry." i say, letting my head fall forward into his bare shoulder, "don't apologise, you throwing up all the drinks you've had is much better than keeping it in okay?"

i nod, he lays me down in bed before pulling the covers up over me. leaning over me as my eyelids grow heavy.

"chris.." i say quietly, my speech still slightly slurred, "yeah?" he replies "i'm sorry for being mean" i say, chris laughs,

"dont worry about it precious." he smiles, leaning down and pressing a kiss to my lips,

"chris!!! i've just been sick!" i say, pulling away.

#sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you

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lesbianrobin · 3 months

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ok so here is my pitch for my dream buddie catalyst:

eddie and maddie are trapped in some sort of likely-fatal time sensitive situation together (drowning related probably because it's Them) (have they overused it yes is it still thematically appropriate YES) where one person could potentially sacrifice themselves for the other to survive. i want eddie and maddie using their combined experience and ingenuity to survive together and discussing who should be prioritized which means they talk about parenthood and how they both feel they've failed their children by "running," how their lives have been so defined by trauma and they don't want to scar their children any further by leaving them again. of course they're doing everything they can to get out together, but as the situation deteriorates throughout the episode(s) (c'mon something like this could be at LEAST a two-parter) they can't help returning periodically to the world's most morbid debate.

i want buck and chim on the outside both going out of their goddamn minds. they know that eddie and maddie are stuck (wherever), know that they're probably alive, but aren't sure in what condition and if they'll stay that way. rescue operations begin as everybody walks on eggshells around buck and tries to comfort chim, who wants absolutely none of it. time is running out.

eddie says that he couldn't possibly let maddie sacrifice herself for him and look buck and chim in the eye afterwards. maddie says that she couldn't do that either. she says that at least jee-yun would still have her father, and eddie says that christopher would still have buck. maddie says that of course none of them would just abandon christopher if something were to happen to him but—

and eddie cuts her off and says it's in my will. if i die, christopher will have buck. buck will have christopher.

they just look at each other for a weighted moment. maddie makes a decision. she says ...i meant it, you know. that i couldn't let you die down here (wherever here is i don't KNOW okay i'm not here to think up convoluted emergencies i'm here for drama) and look my baby brother in the eye knowing that i could have changed it. eddie says i know, okay, but it's different, you're his sister, and maddie says, yeah, but you're his... and she pauses. and eddie says what? best friend? partner? that doesn't—

and maddie says you're his. eddie, you're his.

and eddie... i want to see something slot into place. i want to watch him understand as maddie spills everything she's been suspecting since the day that buck came out to her and maybe since before she and eddie even met. maddie says you know, when i first came to california, you were all he talked about? you're still all he talks about. you and christopher. you're his. i couldn't... eddie, you're out of your mind if you really don't think that losing you would break him just as much as losing me. he would forgive us both, because he's buck, but i couldn't... i'm no saint, eddie, i want to survive. i don't want my daughter to grow up without me. but i can't do that to him. i don't know if he'd survive it. even if he did, the guilt would eat me alive.

meanwhile. buck is barely holding on to his sanity as rescue efforts are underway and time is running out. chimney is keeping it together as best he can but there isn't much that he and buck can do. he can't let himself fall apart because buck is already a stiff breeze away from clawing his own skin off and somebody has to keep their cool. something goes wrong—suddenly, their short amount of time has gotten shorter, and they may only have enough of a window to get one out before it's too late for the other. buck, who has been ranting and arguing and screaming this whole time... is silent. he is silent, and he stares straight ahead at nothing in particular, and we know that no matter which way the scales tip, his soul will be destroyed all the same.

eddie regards maddie for a moment. grief, heartbreak, anger, all flicker over him, but what settles is determination. he says that neither of them are going to leave again. that they'll survive together, or not at all, or leave it to the universe to decide.

of course they make it out. by the skin of their teeth, they make it out, working together, clawing their way back to life and love and possibility. maddie makes it out first, and eddie sees buck as she falls into chim's waiting arms. he watches as buck sees his sister, and reaches out to take her hand with trembling fingers and white knuckles, but there is no relief, no happiness in his red-rimmed eyes. just a deep, unspeakable grief, until his eyes slide past maddie and meet eddie's.

finally: relief. and then he is in buck's arms, a perfect parallel to chim and maddie, and we see eddie's face over buck's shoulder, and we know. he is in love, and buck is in love, and eddie knows, and he sinks into his partner's embrace with joy and acceptance.

after that, who knows? maybe a grand confession. a moment of quiet understanding. a passionate post-rescue kiss. a chaste, tender kiss in some kitchen or other. maybe eddie panics later, or maybe he's found peace for once. maybe buck has realized something and he makes the first move. maybe it happens immediately. maybe it takes a while, takes discussions about how it'll affect work and christopher and whether it's worth risking all that they have for all that they want.

and maybe they'll ask whether it's even a risk at all.

#em talks #911 #buddie #TO BE CLEAR. if this were real it would not be All About Buck like i would want a lot of eddiemaddie recognizing their similarities etc #there would be more going on with chim and the others #but my point here is buddie ok so that is my focus but i think this could serve many characters very well #ALSO. it's not that i think eddie like. doesn't realize how much buck loves him necessarily.#it's the power of maddie saying so plainly and confidently that they are each other's person #it's eddie realizing that he and maddie are thinking about buck and chim in the exact same way #it's all of these things piling up and making it impossible to deny the truth of his and buck's relationship

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semperama · 2 months

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for the kissing meme: buck/eddie, 24.

-as a reward

Buck makes it all the way back to his loft before he breaks and texts Eddie.

Don’t do it, man, he says. Don’t let them get to you.

Sure, Eddie’s been getting nothing but shit from the entire 118 since he came back from Texas sporting a mustache. And sure, Buck has joined in on the teasing—he had to, even if he felt like he needed to have his fingers crossed behind his back the entire time. But after Eddie laughed off today’s latest round of 70s porn star jokes and promised he’d come in for his next shift clean-shaven, Buck felt—something a lot like panic. Churning stomach, shaking hands. When Eddie said goodbye in the locker room, thumping Buck on the shoulder, Buck almost reached out to stop him, reached to run his thumb across his upper lip, because—no. No.

I knew you didn’t hate it, Eddie texts back a couple minutes later. And Buck groans, even though he’s not shocked something gave him away—the flush in his cheeks or the way he laughed a little too loud at everyone else’s Freddie Mercury jokes or the way he couldn’t stop looking.

Come on. You know we all have to get on your case. But you should keep it.

The time has come, Buck. You’ll live.

And sure, Buck gets it. It was a—a crisis mustache, or whatever. A temporary change, and now that Christopher’s back and everyone’s together and everything is good, why does he still need it? But Buck just—he can’t explain it, can’t examine it, but it feels like he’ll be losing something if Eddie loses the facial hair. It feels like someone scooping up the last bite of a dessert he never got to try, or learning he missed the window on a museum exhibit he really wanted to see.

Please? Buck types it out and sends it before he can think too hard about it. Please. For me?

Eddie doesn’t respond to that. Ten minutes go by, then twenty. He probably got in the shower, probably is shaving it off right now, all that dark hair swirling down the drain. Tomorrow Buck will go over for dinner and video games with Chris, and Eddie will look…normal. Everything will be back to normal. Why does that feel like something Buck can’t handle, doesn’t want?

He’s halfway through prepping dinner, forcing himself to go through the motions so he’ll stop feeling shaky and fragile inside, when someone knocks at his door. He wipes his hands off, frowning, and goes to the door, and—it’s Eddie.

It’s Eddie, with a mustache.

“’For me?’” Eddie says.

Buck should feel ashamed, hearing his frankly unhinged message parroted back to him, but he’s too busy sighing with relief and—reaching, reaching out like he wanted to before, his palm cradling Eddie’s jaw and his thumb swiping across the hair at the corner of Eddie’s mouth. It’s better than he thought it would be, a little spiky at the ends but…soft too. Soft enough he wants to rub his lips against it.

So he does.

“Buck,” Eddie says, amused, his lips brushing Buck’s, the mustache tickling his skin. It’s not quite a kiss, not yet, but—it could be. It will be, soon.

“Shut up,” Buck says, heat flooding his face. Then, “Thank you.” And then he tips his head down a little and presses his mouth to Eddie’s in earnest, tonguing his top lip and groaning at the prickle, the newness, just what he wanted, what he asked for.

Eddie wraps an arm around his waist, iron band of muscle, and walks him backward into the loft, lets the door fall shut. “For you,” he murmurs against Buck’s mouth.

Buck moves his head left to right, lets the hair rasp across his cheek, his mouth, his chin. He licks again, kisses again, wants to burrow in and stay. “Thank you,” he says again. It’s silly. Stupid. But Eddie did this for him, and now Buck wants to give him everything, anything.

“Buck,” Eddie says, all fondness and gravel. “Just kiss me.”

He doesn’t need to be asked twice.

#buddie #buck/eddie #911 show #911 abc #this feels like it barely fits for the prompt but it popped into my head and i had to write it down!#thank you for the ask <3 #my writing

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joeshiestyslover · 4 months

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pretty when you cry- c. sturniolo

pairing: toxicbf! chris sturniolo x reader

summary: you know chris doesn’t treat you well and that you should leave him, but you can’t help but stay. chris is well aware of this and wants to treat you better, but he just can’t. after all, you’re just so pretty when you cry.

warnings: so much angst, language, mentions of sex, drug use, chris is an awful bf

masterlist

lowercase intended

a/n: lana del rey + chris is just so 🤭

you felt as if you were slowly dying. all the life that you once held inside you slowly fading away until you were nothing but an empty shell of your former self. you used to be so happy and full of life, never seen without a smile on your face. now, you look sullen, with dark circles under your eyes and a permanent frown tugging on your lips.

everyone asks you what could have possibly happened to make you change so much in such a short amount of time. you always reply with “work is taking a toll on me” or “my boss is a pain in my ass”, but each lie is bigger than the last. you know the source of your constant pain. it’s your boyfriend, christopher sturniolo.

chris used to be the best boyfriend a girl like you could ever ask for: caring, compassionate, funny, etc. the list was endless, and to you, he was perfect. until six months ago.

chris became a completely different person. he was no longer the sweet, charming boy you fell in love with two years ago. instead, he was an angry, violent monster. nights you would spend at his house, filled with sweet nothings and soft giggles were now filled with harsh screams and glass breaking. days that consisted of talking and laughing, were now occupied with silence because you were both still angry about the night before. the once soft, loving sex was now replaced with rough, violent fucking. everything had changed between you, and all you wanted was for you two to go back to how you were a year ago, when everything seemed perfect.

you know that chris is doing drugs, you’ve known for months. every time you try to bring it up to him, it ends in a screaming match, and you storming out the front door. his brothers have tried to get him to stop, yet he refuses, saying it’s the only thing that gets him out of bed anymore.

your heart is slowly breaking, for both you and him. you know you should leave him for good, but you can’t. you love him too much to lose him.

on the other hand, chris knows how badly he’s been treating you and that you deserve so much better than him. however, he knows deep down that you’ll never leave him, so he never truly changes, despite the many promises he’s made that he would.

this leads to a continuous cycle of love and pain. you get fed up with how he treats you, so you confront him. you fight for hours before chris finally breaks down, telling you how much he regrets causing you so much pain and promising he’ll do better. he gets clean for a while and just when everything is beginning to look hopeful, he crashes and burns. he falls back into his old habits once again. then, the cycle continues, leaving you trapped.

you’ve lost count of the amount of times chris has promised to be better and get clean. right now, you and chris are arguing for probably the hundredth time about the same damn topic: him saying he’ll get clean, but he never does.

“this isn’t okay christopher! you have to understand where i’m coming from! i’m worried about you! i’m scared for you!” you yell. “i don’t need you to worry y/n! i’m fine! stop treating me like i’m a child!” he yells back in your face. you feel helpless. you’ve tried everything to help him, but he just won’t accept it. “you’re gonna kill yourself one day! can you even imagine what that would do to me?! to your brothers?! to your parents?! i just-” “don’t fucking bring my family into this!” chris cuts you off. you sigh and run your fingers through your hair. “look,” you start, lowering your voice. “you know i love you chris, but this is terrifying. i have to watch you slowly destroy yourself and i can’t do anything about it because you won’t let me help you.” “it’s because i don’t need your help! i’m doing perfectly fine! it’s not my fault that you want to make everyone else miserable just because you are!” your jaw drops. “i’m miserable because you’re making me miserable! i’m not this person! i’m not full of constant anxiety! i’m not constantly suffering! it’s you chris! i’m like this because of you! because of how you’ve been acting for the past year!” you scream hopelessly. you sit down on the couch in chris’ living room, trying to calm down and compose your thoughts.

“well if you’re so fucking miserable, then just leave, y/n!” you freeze and look up at him. he had never suggested you leave him before. “what?” you ask softly, hoping you heard him wrong. “if i’m so horrible to you, then you can leave! i’m not gonna stop you!” chris waves his arms around frantically.

without another word, you stand up from the couch and walk toward the front door, grabbing your phone and car keys on the way out. you open the door, walk out, then slam it closed. speed walking to your car, you try to keep your tears at bay, but you fail miserably. as soon as you get in and shut the door, the silent tears turn into heart wrenching sobs. trying to calm yourself, you put your car in reverse and back out of the driveway. you have no idea where you’re going to go, but anywhere is better than here.

you end up at a parking lot of a fast food restaurant, but not just any restaurant. it’s the same one where you and chris went out on your first date. you both didn’t want to go anywhere fancy, so you decided on grabbing fast food. you begin to cry even more at the memories of that night. you can’t help but remember how sweet he was and how much he cared for you. how the hell did it come to this? how did you get here?

everything in you is telling you to leave chris for good. you can’t keep going on like this. you love chris so much, more than you’ve ever loved anyone, but he’s slowly killing you from the inside out.

you decide to go back home and tell chris it’s over. you take a deep breath and begin driving. on the way there, the memories of you and chris are on a constant loop in your mind:

your first date,

chris had picked you up outside of your house that night, refusing to tell you where you were going, claiming it was a surprise. before you knew it, he had pulled into the mcdonald’s parking lot. “chris are we at a mcdonald’s right now?” you asked. “well, you said that your favorite restaurant was mcdonald’s so voila, here we are.” chris smiled at you. you laugh and throw your head back. “but if you wanna go somewhere fancier then i’m sure i can squeeze in a reservation-” “chris this is perfect. as long as it’s with you i don’t care where we go.” you smile at him, putting your hand on his arm.

your first kiss,

it was your third date, and you were sure you were in love with chris. he was the perfect guy. the date had gone perfectly, you had gone to a park and just sat on a bench and talked about anything and everything. at the end of the night, he walked you to your door. “tonight was amazing chris. thank you.” you smiled up at him. “y/n, i really like you and you make me laugh. i was wondering if i could be your boyfriend?” he asked you nervously while shifting on the balls of his feet. your smile grew even wider. “i would love to be your your boyfriend chris.” you reached your hand up to cup his cheek. chris leaned his head down to brush his lips against yours. “can i kiss you?” he whispered. you nodded, and before you knew it, he smashed his lips against yours.

the first time he told you he loved you.

you both were lying in chris’ bed watching bridgerton. after much convincing, he had finally agreed to watch it with you, and of course, he loved it. you were watching the episode where edwina left anthony at the altar, and you were hooked even though you had already watched the show a countless amount of times. you felt a pair of eyes boring into the side of your head, and looked up to see chris staring at you, disregarding the show in front of him. “chris? are you okay?” you asked him. “i love you.” he blurted out. “what?” you were shocked. those three words were the last thing you expected to come from chris’ mouth. “it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, i just needed you to know.” you reached up and pressed your lips against his. “i love you too chris.” you both smiled at each other and kissed once more.

all the good memories made you yearn for chris, but you know nothing will ever be the same. he’s not your chris anymore, he’s someone else entirely. he had made himself a stranger to you.

once you get home, you pull into the driveway and get out. you’re shaking with anxiety at this point. you notice the door is unlocked, so you turn the handle and walk inside. you can hear the tv going in chris’ room, so you know he’s in there. you shakily exhale before stepping inside. you immediately make a beeline for the closet, not bothering to look at chris.

“you’re back already, huh?” he speaks up. you ignore him as you rifle through the closet until you find your overnight bag. you throw it on the bed as you take as many clothes as you can carry and shove them into it. “y/n, what are you doing?” chris asks nervously. “i’m leaving chris. you don’t want my help that’s fine, but you can’t expect me to just stand and watch as you fall apart. i can’t do that.” you can’t even look at him because you know you’ll break once you do.

“baby” he begins as he makes his way towards you. “baby look at me please.” chris reaches out and cups your cheek, his thumb rubbing back and forth. you can’t help yourself and look up into his blue eyes. the same ones you fell in love with, and for a moment, you saw a glimpse of the sweet boy you fell in love with. “i didn’t mean anything i said. it was so stupid of me to tell you to leave. i love you so much. i’ll do anything to keep you. i’ll get clean and i promise i’ll do better. i’ll be a better man for you just please don’t leave.” chris begins to beg. you don’t want to give in to his empty promises, but you can’t help yourself. you love him too much to leave. “promise?” you ask weakly. “i promise baby, i’ll never hurt you again, i swear.” he complies. you smile at him before leaning up to capture his lips with yours. after a while, he breaks away. “you know i love you, even if i get aggressive sometimes, yeah? i’m just not good at showing it, but you know i love you. you know that right, y/n?” you want to believe him so badly, but deep down you know that this is just the beginning of the cycle you’ve found yourself trapped in for months. you’re just waiting for it to get bad again. “yeah i know baby.” you tell him softly, not even believing your own words. chris smiles slightly before kissing you again. to be honest, chris doesn’t believe himself either, but he wants to try, for you. and if everything goes south again, then it’s a good thing you’re pretty when you cry.

#Spotify #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo fluff #christopher sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo imagine #sturniolo triplets

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shiplessoceans · 5 months

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I was baffled by this plot direction with Eddie same as you fam...

But I'm also SO intrigued.

Remember how this season started? WIth Christopher two-timing girls from school and Eddie being like "Oh no who did he get this from?"

Chris is emulating his father.

He got this from Eddie.

Not because he thinks his dad is a cheater, but because Eddie has set an example of how relationships with women work.

In Christophers early childhood his dad was always away and his mum was sad and struggling to cope. Then his dad returned and his mum suddenly left. Then his dad brings his mum back as a Christmas gift and bam, suddenly they're a family now. Not a family again, because they never been a family unit before. Everything should be perfect and yet something still feels off.

We know that while Eddie is ready to settle into married life, Shannon is not.

I personally think that when Shannon turned Eddie down, she did it because she knows that if not for Christopher being born, her and Eddie would never have stayed together. That while they love each other and Chris, they were never IN love and she wanted them both to have a chance at happiness.

Actually, come to think of it.... Holy shit... I don't think Eddie has ever BEEN in love.

Not that we've seen anyway!

He married Shannon because she got pregnant and every relationship he's had since then has been an exercise in Eddie trying to cram a new woman into his life and make her fit, only to panic, retreat or self sabotage when she doesn't. Or worse, when she DOES fit and he realises he doesn't love her.

Christopher has grown up and been there for all of this, and it's informing how he handles relationships with girls. As though they are interchangeable. As a means to fit someone into your life and make them your partner rather than find someone you actually like and who makes you happy.

I don't think this it's a coincidence we are where we are now at this point in the show. We've been building to this all season and it needs to happen because otherwise Eddie is going to keep repeating the same pattern over and over and over again for the rest of his life.

Going for 'safe' people he feels like will fill a hole in his heart while never allowing himself to fall in love so that he can never be hurt when they leave or he loses them.

He doesn't love Marisol. He wasn't in love with any of them. I think he loved Shannon but mostly because she was the mother of his child.

Eddie cheating is just another way this cycle is manifesting itself and once again he's going for a woman not because he's interested in who she is or getting to know her...but because she looks like Shannon.

Thinking maybe he can fix the mistakes of the past and be a different version of himself. This version of Shannon won't leave him and he won't abandon her. This one will stick around and yeah he won't love her but it will fix everything and they'll be a family right?

Eddie may not even be consciously aware that he's doing this.

Eddie needs to blow his life up and break this cycle.

Buck was a sex addict because he couldn't deal with his own self worth issues.

Eddie is a serial monogamist who can't let himself fall in love with anyone for fear of being hurt.

Interesting how their arcs mirror each other huh?

#trust the writers #trust the process #let the story unfold #enjoy the ride #it's gonna get bumpy yall #911 abc #911 spoilers #911 season 7 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #ryan guzman #911 on abc #911 speculation #911 reaction #911 7x07 #buddie #buck/eddie

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hanniebaeee · 4 months

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Flicker

Bang Chan x fem!reader

Warning: cursing, injury, kissing

Genre: angst, fluff

Summary: When Chris misses a dinner you were looking forward to, it makes you question your relationship. A fight ensues and it makes both of you regret a lot of things.

You couldn't stop the tears that seemed to cascade down your cheeks. Your heart felt heavy and an ache had settled over your chest. You refused to meet his eye.

'Y/N. Come on, you know how -' Chris wanted to tell you that he hadn't forgotten. He wanted to tell you that you meant the world to him. That he loved only you. But he knew that at this particular moment, nothing looked right.

You wouldn't talk to him and you wouldn't stop crying. The only sound in the room was that of your sniffs and little sobs.

'Baby, please.' Chris pleaded, taking a step closer. He tried to touch you, but you hissed at him not to even think of it.

'I'm so done, Christopher. I'm so fucking done with being your second option. I'm DONE.' You say, standing up and facing him. 'You can go and serve your boys and their girlfriends freely. I'm not gonna hold you back.'

'Y/N, don't be ridiculous!' Chris said, your choice of words annoying him.

'Oh I'm ridiculous? You think I'm ridiculous?! Wow.' Your sadness was turning into anger now. You wanted to hurt him. You wanted him to feel how hurt you were.

'Baby, she was sick. She wanted help. I didn't mean to stand you up. At the hospital, she didn't have anyone else to help her-' Chris said, knowing very well that this is only going to fuel your anger more.

'And why is that? Because she had a fight with her boyfriend and was too proud to call him for help? Seriously, Bang Chan. You are something else.' You snap.

Chris flinches at how you call him Bang Chan. But he doesn't say anything.

'My sister wanted to meet you, Chris. She came all the way here to meet you and you went to do what? I just don't understand.' You say, fresh tears making an appearance. 'You could've come for like 5 minutes. You decided to not even call me. Shows the kind of commitment you have towards me and our relationship.'

'Baby, please don't! I spoke to your sister and I apologized a hundred times for missing out. I feel bad for this, but I swear I didn't do it on purpose.' Chris said, sadly. 'Please forgive me.'

'No. I don't want to. I feel like an idiot for always putting you first. I didn't even go home for my last holiday because it was the only time YOU had time. And this is what you do to me. For a girl who refuses to even acknowledge my presence in your life. You should go be with her.'

'Y/N, we work together! She's nothing more than my colleague!' Chris snapped. 'She fainted for fucks sake!'

'I don't give a fuck.' You snap back. 'Why don't you just go and wipe her nose or something. Since she's so sick.'

'That's enough, Y/N.' He said, voice low and laced with anger. 'No more.'

'You make me want to vomit, Chris. Just, just-' You shake your head and walk to the door.

'Where are you going?' Chris asked, glancing at the clock. 'It's almost 1, Y/N.'

'What's it to you?' You ask with a scoff. 'If I stand here and listen to you for one more minute, I'll lose my mind.'

With that, you start walking out and towards the elevator. Sighing, Chris follows you.

'Baby, what's this behavior?' Chris asks, clearly exhausted now. 'I'm sorry. I really am.'

You ignore him. The jealousy and anger were at its peak now. You were usually a very forgiving person, but this was not such a situation. You were so excited for your sister to meet Chris. And your sister was very very excited to meet him, more so since she was a Stay since before you met Chris. And he fucks it all up.

You were blind with rage and the elevator seemed to take forever to just come and huffing with irritation, you make your way to the stairs. You were willing to go down 10 floors of stairs just to get away from Chris.

'Y/N, come on. What do you want me to do? Hm? What can I do to fix this?' Chris asked, following you again.

He grabs your arm as you were about to go down the stairs. He gave you a pleading look. He knew it always melted your heart.

'Are you really gonna play with my feelings right now, Bang Chan? Really?' You ask, your voice shaking with emotion. 'You wanna fix this? Why don't you go back in time and choose me over some random girl? Hm? Can you do that?'

'Baby, I'm so so so sorry. I promise I've learned my lesson. I will never-'

'Save it. It's all just words anyway.' You say and pull your arm away from his forcefully. What you forget is that you were standing at the edge of the staircase, and the force of your actions had you falling back, tumbling down the stairs.

Your eyes widen and you scream as you fall. Chris tries to grab you, screaming your name, but you were already falling. Your hand twisted in a funny way and it hurt so much, you didn't even know what was happening. You hit your head on the edge of a step and your spine on another. Everything seemed to blur as the pain took over. Chris had stopped your fall midway, but the damage was done.

He had you in his arms, and he was calling your name loudly, patting your cheek lightly.

'Y/N?! Baby, stay with me!'

You could see the tears on his face and the way his hands shook as he took out his phone and called an ambulance. The look of fear and desperation flickered over his handsome face. And your own thoughts flickering over your head, and you were way too tired all of a sudden. You didn't want to let go. You didn't want to pass out. Everything hurt so much you were afraid you wouldn't open your eyes again. You wanted to tell him that you were sorry. But your body wasn't in sync with you anymore.

You lost your consciousness halfway through his conversation with Minho. Chris cried so hard, trying to shake you awake. Your hand was a deep blue and swollen just below the elbow. There was a bruise forming over your cheekbone too. And one of your knees was bleeding.

Minho came running down the stairs in a few minutes, looking aghast and looking at you with worried eyes.

'What the hell happened?! Oh my God!' He didn't even know what to say.

The ambulance was there soon and you were taken to a hospital nearby. Chris kept crying and blaming himself for everything. If he hadn't missed dinner with your sister, everything would still be ok. You would be fine. He sat crumbled on one of the chairs outside the examination room, head pounding and feeling totally lost.

Minho on the other hand tried to talk to anyone who seemed to go in or out of your room. Finally the doctor was there and he said that you were doing ok. A broken hand and some bruises for now. But since you had hit your head pretty bad, so you could have a concussion. You hadn't woken up yet, so they wanted to wait and see.

When you woke up the next day, the only one you wanted was Chris. He didn't sleep throughout the night, sitting by your bed, refusing to leave or even move from there. Finally when you opened your eyes and said his name, he was crying again, kissing your cheeks and face and apologizing repeatedly.

'I'm sorry, Chris' you mumbled. 'I'm so sorry.'

'No no no' he said, 'You did nothing wrong. I promise I will never make you cry again. I promise.'

'I love you.' You say and when Chris kisses you, you try to smile through the pain. 'I'm glad I still have my boyfriend here to take care of me, even if we're fighting. Unlike your poor friend.'

Chris had to laugh at that.

'I'm always gonna be here for you. No matter what. Even if we fight. Or you stop wanting me. I will still always be here for you.' He said softly.

'I'll never stop wanting you.' You let him know and he nods, kissing you again.

The door opened and Minho steps in.

'Oh look who's awake!' He said brightly, setting down the food he had gone to get. 'How are you sweetie? They boys are dying to come and meet you, but i told them to wait till you are awake.'

'Not great' you say, pouting. But you smile when he hands you your favorite Leebit plushie (it was no secret that he was your bias!).

'Well, it should be some comfort to know that he cried for 10 hours straight.' Minho said, looking at Chris. His eyes were bloodshot and the lids so swollen and pink. 'He's never gonna leave you alone now. You have no idea what you've done.'

You look at Chris, and hold his hand tighter. Chris kissed your hand softly, smiling.

'Chris, we're at the airport. Now will be a good time to tell me where we're going.' You said, giving your boyfriend a look. 'Come on!!!'

Your arm was finally out of the cast and he had been waiting for this day. Bags were already packed and ready. Minho had dropped you both at the airport and he was still not saying anything.

'Christopher.'

'Patience baby'

You sigh.

But in another few minutes, you knew. You didn't say anything, afraid that you would start crying. It broke your heart a bit, but it made your heart swell with love for your lovely boyfriend. Chris just smiled and kissed you as he saw the realization on your face.

After a few hours of flying, your sister met you at the airport, throwing her arms around you and fangirling over Chris, who gave her a shy smile.

'So you didn't know?' She asked as she drove you all home.

'Nope.' You said, shaking your head.

'Aww, this is so cute!' She said, giving Chris a grateful smile. 'Mum and dad are so excited to meet you Chris. You're finally bringing him home!'

Chris was so shy in front of your parents, and they were so happy to finally meet the man who had stolen their daughter's heart. Initially they were doubtful about you dating a man from a different country, and a celebrity on top of that. They were worried that you would struggle with the culture difference and you would be homesick. Deciding to stay back in Korea had been a big decision for you as you had never been so far away from your family before. And now, your parents could see why. You were in love and he obviously made you really happy.

It melted your heart, seeing him mingling with your family so well. And it made you so needy for him.

Later that night, you pull Chris into your old bedroom and kiss the hell out of him, not giving him a chance to breathe or say anything at all. And when you finally let him go, he gives you a look filled with so much love and adoration - you knew he was your happily ever after.

a/n: I'm sorry, I love torturing myself with these angsty scenarios 😭

#skz #stray kids #skz stay #chris bang #christopher bang #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x female reader #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader

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astrolynnworld · 9 months

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stress reliever

pairing: chris x reader

summary: the baby is taking a toll on the readers mental health so chris decides to be her stress reliever

warnings: smut! pregnant reader, mental health, sadness, stress, smut, language, dom chris, reassurance, praise, love, romance

a/n: love me a request

word count: 1,127

life sucks so much lately. everything is a nuisance

i feel like my decisions aren’t mine anymore, everything i do revolves around this baby.

and i can’t help but feel like that’s never gonna change.. because isn’t that what having a kid is like?

putting them first above you at all times because you want them to push for more than you ever could?

it’s all so stressful. i wouldn’t even know the first thing about being a mother, yet i have 4 months until i officially become one.

i can’t even do the things i used to enjoy anymore. all i do is eat, sleep, feel sick, and linger around the house

chris tries his best to keep me active and motivated but nothing has been working

i feel like he can tell that i’ve been so down lately

———————————————————————

“baby come on let’s go for a walk” chris begs

“i don’t want too. i want to stay in bed” i reply

“come on, you’ve been in bed all day. let’s go outside” he responds back

“chris it’s fine, the day is almost over. we don’t need to be outside doing absolutely nothing.” i snap then retract

chris climbs into bed with me

“baby what’s wrong.. honestly” he starts up

i sigh trying to hold back my tears, “i just feel like im not ready to be a mother”

“why would you ever think that baby?” he says softly

“how am i supposed to take care of our baby girl when i can barely take care of myself? i have NOTHING going for myself chris.” i start the sentence to my mini rant

“how will she ever look up to her failure of a mother? the mother with a shitty job, no car, and can’t even make anything of herself” i say starting to cry at this point

“i’m NOT ready to bring a child into my world. im going to be a TERRIBLE mother chris. don’t you see that?” i ask rhetorically while resting my face in my hands

chris grabs my chin, “y/n..”

“don’t chris.” i say

“look at me y/n”

i look up to a soft kind glare plastered on chris’ face

he starts wiping my tears away, “you’re the most beautiful, kindest, honest, loving, hard working woman i know”

“there is not a doubt in my mind that you’re going to be an amazing and incredible mother” he continues

“you’re not afraid speak your mind, you’re so independent, you don’t let any obstacle overcome who you are, and you’re always down for a good challenge”

i let out a soft smile

“i’d be LUCKY if our daughter was anything like you. i’d rather nothing more.”

“do you really mean that?” i ask

“you think our daughter should come out anything like me” he says while laughing

“no..” i chuckle back

“exactly. you don’t see what i see but of course you’re the perfect role model for our daughter, you’re an amazing person y/n. and i know you’re going to be an amazing mother.” he responds back in a smile

i calm down and give chris a hug

“im so grateful that i have you by my side doing this with me” i say as i hug him tighter

i pull away and give him a kiss

“i love you so much y/n” he says before giving me another kiss

then another one..

and another one…

“christopher.” i laugh

“come on” he smiles as he flips me on my back, “your lips are so soft” he dives back into another kiss

he starts kissing down my neck

“chris.. you don’t have to do this” i say as i put up a little resistance

“shh baby, just let me show you how amazing you are” he responds

i nod my head bring my neck up for another kiss on the lips. to which he fulfills

he keeps kissing me as he slides me out of my pants and underwear.

“fuck your pussy is so pretty baby.” he says while rubbing my clit

i let out a slight moan at the warm hand rubbing my juices in

“so wet for me baby” he says as he lifts his hand to taste my juices

“you make me so hard baby”

“chris please..” i whine

“please what baby” he responds

“please fuck me”

“dont need to ask me twice” he chuckles as he whips out his cock

he starts teasing the outside of my pussy with his head

causing me to arch my back into the sheets

“fuck you’re so hot baby. how bad do you want it”

“so bad, please please please put it in baby” i beg

he slides his cock in slowly and i whimper at the feeling of his member filling my hole

“fuck chris. i forget how big you are” i whisper in a whine

he bends his head to meet a kiss on my lips as he starts to slide in and out

“you’re so perfect for me baby, don’t ever forget that.” he says through grunts

“you’re mine. only mine” he continues

i continue to let the praise wash over me as he pounds inside me

“i want you to say it for me baby. say that you’re mine” he says while picking up the pace

“im yours chris” i whimper

“say that you’re my pretty little girl” he demands

“im your pretty little girl chris only yours” i continue to whine

“yes baby. say that you’re an good girl” he continues

“i’m such a good gir- fuck. i’m the best girl”

“yes keep saying it baby, i want to hear you louder” he groans

“i’m a good girl chris. i’m such a good girl. i’m only your good girl. i’m a good girl.” i continue as i feel my orgasm overtake my stomach

chris’ pace quickens as he feels my pussy clench around him

“ooh fuck chris. don’t stop.” i beg him as i ride my high out

“i’m gonna cum too baby” chris cries

“yes baby cum in me. fill me up” i moan out to him

he throws his head up and lets out a loud exhale from his mouth as he releases his all into me

“oh my go- fuck.” says chris

i start chuckling

“what’s so funny” he says as he starts looking down at me

“nothing. i just love you so much” i reply

“well i love you more baby. i hope you never have to question my love for you”

he pulls out of me and helps me up so we can wipe me down and put my clothes on

“i hope that took all your worries and stress away princess” he says as he gives me a quick kiss on the forehead

———————————————————————

a/n- i don’t know if i’m tagging right but @sturnioloenthusiast @littlebookworm803 <3

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suzannahnatters · 1 year

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Let Your Knights Weep

One of the big things I've had to train myself out of when writing medieval historical fiction?

The stiff upper lip.

This used to really bewilder my editor, who for some time attempted to nudge me away from having my grown men weep and wail and blubber, but for me it's an essential part of the setting. Whether in grief or fear, medieval people did not hold things back.

Here are some of my favourite quotes to explain.

First, a couple from two great 20th century medievalists:

CS Lewis in his Letters put it this way:

“By the way, don't 'weep inwardly' and get a sore throat. If you must weep, weep: a good honest howl! I suspect we - and especially, my sex - don't cry enough now-a-days. Aeneas and Hector and Beowulf, Roland and Lancelot blubbered like schoolgirls, so why shouldn't we?”

Dorothy Sayers, in her fabulous Introduction to her translation of THE SONG OF ROLAND, speaking of Charlemagne discovering Roland's body on the battlefield:

Here too, I think we must not reckon it weakness in him that he is overcome by grief for Roland’s death, that he faints upon the body and has to be raised up by the barons and supported by them while he utters his lament. There are fashions in sensibility as in everything else. The idea that a strong man should react to great personal and national calamities by a slight compression of the lips and by silently throwing his cigarette into the fireplace is of very recent origin. By the standards of feudal epic, Charlemagne’s behaviour is perfectly correct. Fainting, weeping, and lamenting is what the situation calls for. The assembled knights and barons all decorously follow his example. They punctuate his lament with appropriate responses:

By hundred thousand the French for sorrow sigh; There’s none of them but utters grievous cries.

At the end of the next laisse:

He tears his beard that is so white of hue, Tears from his head his white hair by the roots; And of the French an hundred thousand swoon.

We may take this response as being ritual and poetic; grief, like everything else in the Epic, is displayed on the heroic scale. Though men of the eleventh century did, in fact, display their emotions much more openly than we do, there is no reason to suppose that they made a practice of fainting away in chorus. But the gesture had their approval; that was how they liked to think of people behaving. In every age, art holds up to us the standard pattern of exemplary conduct, and real life does its best to conform. From Charlemagne’s weeping and fainting we can draw no conclusions about his character except that the poet has represented him as a perfect model of the “man of feeling” in the taste of the period.

OK, now let's dig into some quotes that I found just in Christopher Tyerman's Chronicles of the First Crusade and Joinville's Life of St Louis:

Truly you would have grieved and sobbed in pity when the Turks killed any of our men....

As for the knights, they stood about in a great state of gloom, wringing their hands because they were so frightened and miserable, not knowing what to do with themselves and their armour, and offering to sell their shields, valuable breastplates and helmets for threepence or fivepence or any price they could get....

When Guy, who was a very honourable knight, had heard these lies, he and all the others began to weep and to make loud lamentation....

They stayed in the houses cowering, some some for hunger and some for fear of the Turks....

Now at vigils, the time of trust in God’s compassion, many gave up hope and hurriedly lowered themselves with ropes from the wall-tops; and in the city soldiers, returning from the encounter, circulated widely a rumour that mass decapitation of the defenders was in store. To add weight to the terror, they too fled…

In the course of that day’s battle there had been many people, and of fine appearance too, who had come very shamefully flying over the little bridge you know of and had fled away so panic-stricken that all our attempts to make them stay with us had been in vain. I could tell you some of their names, but shall refrain from doing so, because they are now dead.

I could go on looking for quotes in all the other medieval literature I've read, but that would be beyond the scope of this Tumblr post.

In the meantime, this leads me to make some comments on how trauma was perceived.

In Jonathan Riley-Smith's The First Crusade and the Idea of Crusading, the author discusses the mental breakdowns suffered by the first crusaders during the second siege of Antioch, which caused many of them to flee at the moment of direst need:

In these stressful circumstances it is not surprising that the crusaders were often very frightened. At times, indeed, they seem to have been almost paralysed by a terror that they themselves could hardly comprehend. … When the crusade was bottled up in Antioch by Kerbogha's relief force it was gripped by such blind panic that there was the prospect of a mass break-out and on the night of 10 or 11 Juney 1098 Bohemond and Adhemar had the gates of the city closed. It is worth noting that many of those whom later chroniclers, writing after the events in comparative comfort in Europe, vilified for cowardice and desertion seem to have been treated more charitably by their fellow-crusaders, who must have understood what pressures they had been under.

In conclusion: the way we feel about things today in the English-speaking isn't necessarily the way people felt about things in the past (and this goes for other cultures, real or imagined, too). I'm continually catching myself writing people with stiff upper lips and emotional reservations, and having to remind myself that the culture was different back them. If a grown man wanted to weep, he could. That's a good thing. (Oh, and my medieval historical fantasy? Check out the Watchers of Outremer series on Amazon or wherever books are sold!)

#history #writing #historical fiction #medieval history #medieval #middle ages #historical #masculinity #history of masculinity #toxic masculinity

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madddays · 1 year

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camera shy

pairing: yoongi x reader (f) summary: after his last Oakland show, you carve out a little alone time with your husband, away from the stage lights and the cameras and the million people who always seem to be around rating/genre: explicit // fluff + smut + slice of life-ish (it’s a tour fic!) + an attempt at humour warnings: smut -- oral + fingering (f receiving), missionary, unprotected sex (they’re married it’s fine), terribly thought-out plot note: hello!!! i haven’t written anything in this format in a long time (poetry is my medium of choice) so pls be gentle!! also this is set in what is the “current timeline” but is of course fictional and i took every creative liberty i could :) also there was supposed to be a little bit at the end that i cut out bc reader was getting a little too cuckoo but that’s where the title came from and i couldn’t think of another. okay. anyway.

Being on tour is exhausting.

You’re not sure you have the right to complain – you’re not the one performing high-energy shows in sold out arenas every night. But you are lifting your share of your husband’s emotional weight as he does his solo tour. His first solo tour, as is stressed to you.

And you’re dodging cameras left and right. While it was impossible for you to stay out of the picture completely — the team at HYBE had convinced you that there was no need to hide your presence — being an idol’s wife didn’t really make you the most… sympathetic character.

So you try to keep the complaining to a minimum.

“If I have to duck out of one more cameraman’s way today…” you grumble under your breath. Sejin laughs.

“There’s only so long they can spend in your room,” he placates. “And tomorrow you’ll have use of the business centre again.”

You harrumph. Fucking businesspeople using the business centre for their business shit. Hunkering down over your laptop again, you attempt once more to read over the article you needed to finish editing tonight. You’re finally making a little headway, getting into the groove, and then —

“That’s it!” you snap in English, frantically trying to catch the open water bottle that almost spilled all over your computer. The culprit, a man looking through the lens of his giant stupid camera on his giant stupid tripod, glances at you with a bored expression.

“Whoops,” he says lightly, wheeling the contraption slightly to the left of where he’d bumped the desk. “Should probably keep that closed.”

You see red. Just as you’re about to toss this man and his equipment out the 50th story window, your husband appears.

“Jagiya,” Yoongi murmurs to you, placing a grounding hand at the side of your face. You instantly relax about fifty percent. “I’m sorry, just the rest of the afternoon.”

You look up at him, at his soft pleading face. He’s turned away from the filming crew, hiding both his expression and yours. You relax the rest of the way, resting in his palm, a little guilt creeping in.

It’s not his fault. Obviously, everything was going to be filmed — a BTS member’s first solo tour. There was going to be a documentary, and like it or not, you were going to be in it. As marginally as possible, everyone had insisted, but you couldn’t afford to look bad. Unfortunate that the filming crew was full of a bunch of dicks who didn’t give a shit about anyone who wasn’t the star. “No,” you shake your head, “I’m sorry. I know you hate this as much as I do, probably more. I’ll try to be good.”

At this, Yoongi smiles, shoulders jerking with a laugh. “I’m not asking for a miracle,” he teases. “Just a little patience.” You roll your eyes. You can behave.

Just then, the same nimrod shoots a look at you, almost goading, as Sejin picks up your laptop and its accessories so the Christopher Nolan wannabe can put some more douchebag equipment where it just was. You look Yoongi straight in the eyes, dead serious. “If that man crosses me one more time, I’m going to kill him. And I’m going to film it with his stupid fucking camera.”

--------------- xxx ---------------

Most people expect you to be ecstatic about the proximity to free tickets that being married to Yoongi brings. And you love watching him perform. Up on the stage, in his element. He’s never more radiant than when he’s singing and rapping, leaning in close to the edge of the stage so he can look into the fans’ eyes — gloss, a fitting name for the shining star you see giving his all.

And the confidence is incredibly sexy. So you have a competency kink, sue you.

But god is it tiring being there. Even in the nosebleeds, or in the VIP box. You can’t exactly abandon Yoongi afterwards, so you have to make your way discreetly backstage with the security team, and then you wait through the undressing and the debriefing and the security checks and the filming. Sometimes the media circus. Only then can you sneak into a car with him and head back to the hotel.

So you stay behind tonight. It’s the last day of the American leg, and you’ve already seen a few spectacular shows. You have your own life, your own responsibilities. Which includes deadlines.

You were able to come with Yoongi for this leg of the tour because you’d promised your boss an exclusive — first dibs on Agust D’s experience touring in the U.S. While you wouldn’t be allowed to take part in the spread (a very clear conflict of interest, no bueno) you’re excited for it. The potential of the photoshoot alone is making your head spin.

But part of the deal was also to keep working. The list of articles your Senior Editor ass has to go over is slowly dwindling, this feature on Korea’s impact on global fashion getting to the finish line.

“Yes!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in the now blessedly empty hotel room. Email with the finished article sent, you roll your chair to look straight into the little camera that’s trained on the desk Yoongi’s claimed and flip it the bird.

Job done and borderline invasive filming (it’s only on when Yoongi decides to get some working shots for them, but still) disrespected, there’s not much left to do but wait.

When the third time cycling through all your social media apps doesn’t provide any groundbreaking entertainment, you decide to call down to reception for some reading material. It’s not technically work if you’re just reading a dozen trashy ‘Who Wore It Best?’ segments. “Anne Hathaway, hwaiting!” you mutter to yourself.

--------------- xxx ---------------

A couple hours later, you’re still thoroughly immersed in your magazines and your music, completely missing the cacophony in the hallway. The knock on your door startles you so thoroughly you hit your head against the headboard.

“Unnie, are you okay?” asks Ari, one of the stylists. “I was coming to call you to eat!”

“Oh, you’re all back! One sec!” You scramble off the bed, excited to see the aftermath of the show. You barely remember to put on a pair of pants before rushing out the door, Ari’s surprised face greeting you. “Thanks, Ari-yah,” you grin, locking arms with her. “How was the show?”

“It was great! Oppa is always good, but tonight he was especially energetic.” Her face screws up a little. “He ripped another one of the jackets, though.”

An inconvenience to her, but you don’t share the irritation. Yoongi’s broad shoulders busting his clothes, yum. “Oh,” you say anyway, your sympathy unconvincing, “that’s annoying.” Ari snorts.

“Sure. At least it’s new costumes for the next leg. We’ll refit them.”

You practically vibrate with excitement at that. “I haven’t seen them yet! I’m sure you all did an awesome job!”

She blushes. “I think it’ll be good! They’re not totally finalized yet, but I’ll send you a ton of pictures.” Her eye drops in a wink, making you giggle delightedly.

Dinner is a buffet in one of the conference rooms of your beloved business centre. One of the security team members escorts you down with a group of the staff, but most people had gone down earlier, apparently very hungry. Yoongi among them. As you approach the doors, you hear someone complaining to him that they should’ve done this at a restaurant and where is his sense of celebration.

“Come on,” you hear him grumble. “It’s not like the entire tour is over. We can all go out tomorrow.”

You snort. “And then tomorrow you’ll say ‘tomorrow never comes’.” If it were happening to someone else, you’d never let them live down how quickly their husband’s head snapped towards them, but you make an exception because yours is so cute.

Despite his enthusiastic surprise, he doesn’t miss a beat. “Great, now I have to come up with a new excuse. Thanks for that,” he rolls his eyes, but immediately swaps the empty plate you grab with the one he was filling up for himself, no room to argue. Your giddy mood sours a little when you catch sight of the filming crew again.

Yoongi holds your hand over his bouncing knee and the two of you sneak food off and onto each other’s plates. The mood is bright and light, despite everyone’s obvious exhaustion (at least three people by your count are in danger of falling asleep into their food). You expect to see an extended shot of the staff and crew laughing and eating, a flushed Yoongi being plied with praise and encouragement, under some sort of pensive voiceover.

And you’re right, because right after he’s done eating they whisk Yoongi away to do what is sure to be a thorough recount of his adventure in the States. You’re a little jealous that they get to hear all about it before you do. Fuckers.

As the room starts to clear out, you bid everyone a good night and trudge back up to your room, planning to crawl into bed and wait for your husband.

But when you open the door, he’s already there. Your immediate thought is that the air conditioning is up too high for him to leave his hair damp like that. Your second thought is how pretty he looks — sharp eyes focused on his legal pad, sinful hand flying across the page trying to get down whatever lyrics are thundering through his brain, cheeks flushed and pouty mouth puckered. He must’ve gone straight from the shower to his desk.

After a few moments he must sense your eyes on him, because his writing falters and he turns to you, a soft smile breaking out across his face. Your heart flutters.

“Hey!” he says happily, pulling out his earbuds. “I was waiting for you.”

“Clearly,” you laugh, moving to perch on the table in front of him. He pulls your feet into his lap, putting his papers aside. You resist the urge to sneak a peek, instead asking “did I interrupt something?”

“No,” he assures you. “I got everything important down. You were right on time.” His fingers are drumming on your thigh like there’s still something on his mind, but you’re feeling greedy tonight, so you let it slide.

“Apparently, I was late.” His hair is cold when you ruffle it. “Let me dry your hair. You still have schedules to make it to, can’t get sick.”

Under the gentle whirr of the expensive hair dryer and your hands in his soft locks, you coax out some of the details of the night from him. Stuff those production company jerks would never get to hear, wouldn’t think to ask about. How he was so glad to never have to wear one of his costumes ever again. The way he didn’t even feel the heat of the stage lights, the thing that drenched him in sweat (aside from the jumping and running around) was nerves. You laugh when he tells you about the girl in the pit who danced so hard the veil of her wedding dress outfit ended up on one of the lights. Your heart swells, swells, swells.

There’s still a restlessness about him when you’re done. You suggest he goes back to his desk but he shakes his head. “Let’s go to bed.” The first time in ages you can do so without the weight of anticipation and stress over him – hopefully it will settle whatever is making him twitchy.

There’s a spark of arousal in your belly when you feel his eyes on your backside as you change into your pyjamas. A breath stutters out of your mouth when you meet his sleepy gaze, getting a soft smirk in response. “Come here,” he says softly. “I missed you.”

In your eagerness to get to him, you collide with the bed a little too fast. “Oof,” you huff, making him laugh. He sits up to haul you into his side, another surprised noise leaving your mouth.

“Dummy,” he teases. “Not even safe in a cushy hotel room.” You kick at his shin.

“Quit giving me bedroom eyes then.” You see his eyes sparkle and mouth start to open and smack a hand over it. “Yes, we are in a bedroom, ha ha, you are very funny.”

He moves your hand away, unimpressed. “It is a funny joke,” he grumbles. Truly funny thing is, if he’d said it, you would’ve laughed. You’re down horrendously and he knows it, although you do your best to keep his ego in check at least some of the time.

Giggling anyway, you let him press you closer to his chest. You especially love him like this, warm and soft and silly and all to yourself.

Yoongi turns over onto his good shoulder to face you, tipping your chin up. His gaze flits across your face, tender and deep, like he can see everything you’re thinking. You hope he can. You think he does. “I love you,” he murmurs, and he kisses you.

Your eyes flutter closed, relishing in this closeness. The way his mouth moves over yours, slow and deliberate.

This isn’t a kiss just because, or goodnight or I’ll be right back, this is a kiss because I want to be touching you. I want to breathe you in. I want to forget everything but you.

You let out a sigh. Yoongi hums against you, a rumble you feel in his chest, and slides his tongue to meet yours. He shifts some more so he’s over you, braced on his forearm. It’s urgent now, but the way he licks into your mouth is languid, a creeping heat.

He knows just how you like it, just how to drive you wild. Where you push and pull and grasp at him, he slows you, pins you down, makes you feel every second like it’s an hour.

When he pulls away, panting slightly, you realize – it’s been a long time. The last time the two of you had had a chance to get horizontal (or otherwise) had been the week you left Korea. More than a month ago. No wonder you’re so desperate for him, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him back in, feeling his smug little grin against your mouth.

He grabs at your hip with his other hand, and just that contact, his hand deliberate against the bare skin between your shirt and pyjama shorts, is enough to have you gasping.

He pulls away again with a low chuckle. “I’ve been neglecting you, my love,” he noses against your jaw. The warmth of his breath makes you shiver.

“You’ve been such a good wife,” he continues, sitting back on his heels, raking his gaze over you. His tone is soft but his eyes are so, so hungry. You reach for him, desperate to be back under his body, but he just smiles, closed mouth and innocent. “Shh, let your husband take care of you.”

He climbs back over you, settles his weight on you like he knows you like and hovers an inch from your face. His hair, longer again, hangs in his eyes, but you can see the mischievous shine in them. “Hi,” he whispers.

“Yoongi,” you whine. His smile grows even bigger, but before you can crush your lips to his he leans down and kisses you, slow and searing again.

“I’ll make you feel good,” he promises, mouthing down your neck. You know he’s going to leave marks, but you can’t bring yourself to care. It’s been so long since you’ve felt properly like his. “Smell so sweet,” he sighs, opening the top button of your sleep shirt and burying his face between your tits. “Sweet, sweet girl.”

You moan, sensitive from his touch. “You’re –” he nips at you, drawing more breathy noises from your mouth. “You’re unusually talkative tonight.”

He smiles up at you. “You like it,” he says simply. And you do. You want him to keep telling you how you look and feel to him, what he’s going to do to you.

You start to fall apart under his mouth, his hands, his words. Soon your shirt is gone, tits shiny with his saliva. “Your fucking tongue,” you grab his hair, hold him in place, and his groan against your skin makes your sensitive nipples shoot fireworks into your brain. He presses your tits together tighter, sucking them noisily in turn as you grind up against his hardening cock.

“Taste fucking perfect,” his voice is so deep. Your pussy is already clenching, desperate for him.

Yoongi helps you out of your pyjama shorts, wanting you completely bare to him. “Need to see you, jagi.” He settles between your legs, settled over his shoulders. His warm mouth over your cunt has you spreading them wider, eager.

“That’s my girl,” he rumbles approvingly, expecting the ensuing flood from your pussy. He uses two of his long, callused fingers to spread it all over, sliding almost coincidentally over your clit. Your hips cant towards his hand, wanting more than anything to have them inside you – fuck. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Yoongi, please,” you choke. It’s getting nearly unbearable, this desperation. You’re so wet, so sensitive, your entrance clenching around nothing.

“Pretty, pretty,” he says in a soft rasp, talking to himself. He gets comfortable between your legs and you can see his sharp, dark eyes zero in on your cunt, tongue wetting his lips like someone’s set a meal in front of him. You suppose you have.

“Ahhh-hhhh,” you moan, the first broad sweep of his tongue over your folds like electricity. Like he’d just set a firecracker off inside of you – buzzing and sparking from the tips of your toes to your scalp. Eyes squeezed shut, a broken noise comes out of your mouth.

He keeps going, lapping at your pussy in an even rhythm and making low sounds of appreciation. It’s so, so wet you’re sure he must be drooling, and the thought is enough to have you clenching your legs together. “Careful, baby,” he says against your skin, but the vibrations of his voice are just fuel to the fire. “Watch me.”

You lean up shakily on your elbows, and the sight of him is nearly enough to knock you back down again. The mop of dark hair between your legs, working away as though you’re barely there, like he’s just using this to get himself off – except his eyes, watching you under the harsh slant of his eyebrows – shit shit it’s almost too much already.

“Fuck, baby, please,” you plead breathily, not even sure what you’re asking for. He’s already giving you everything you want. The close of his pouted lips around your clit has you jerking, the fiery crackle in your nerves making everything hazy except the places he’s touching you – big hands clamped around your thighs, face buried in your cunt, fingers pressed into the meat of your ass. He’d taken off the rest of his rings, but you can feel his wedding band pinching your skin slightly. Your matching one catches the light as you twist your hand into the sheets. “I need – I nee –” you break off, keening when he rubs a finger over your hole.

“Don’t worry, love,” he slides a digit in, feeling the way you clench around it desperately. “I know what my girl needs.” On the next stroke, he slides in a second finger, groaning when you clamp down on him. You collapse back onto the pillows, hips kicking up despite the way he’s pressing you into the mattress

You’d teased him mercilessly, way back when the two of you had started dating. “Tongue technology, huh? Do you have any songs where you’re not bragging about how good you eat pussy?” He’d only smiled, smug and amused, like he knew something you didn’t.

Boy, did you find out. Again, and again, and again. The way he flicks his tongue over your clit, a fast, even tempo that has you curling your toes. Combined with how fast he’s pumping those long fingers in you, the squelching sounds absolutely obscene.

“Another?” he asks, voice almost disinterested, betrayed only by how hoarse and low it’s become. You nod frantically, knowing you’re close.

When he adds his ring finger, you know you’re done for. There’s a searing heat all down your body — your belly’s tight, your feet digging into Yoongi’s back with how tightly you have them tensed. Your face is flushed and sweaty and you can barely hear your own breathy whining through the rushing in your ears. It’s building, the wet slick of his tongue joining his fingers as your legs start to tremble around him, threatening to squeeze his neck, your hands finding their way into his hair to bring him with you when your back arches off the bed, and when he sucks your clit back between his lips —

“That’s it, fuck, baby,” he growls against you. He pumps you through your orgasm, almost struggling to get deep because of the way you’re gripped tight around them. Lets the gush of come slick his tongue further, shaking his head side to side as you ride out your aftershocks. You grind against his face, stuttering as the oversensitivity kicks in, whining when it becomes too much.

“N’more,” you slur, gasping when Yoongi eases out of you. He sits back on his heels again, his mouth, nose, and chin shiny from the way you’ve drenched him.

He seems content to let it sit as he meets your eyes, popping his used fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling back and groaning at the taste. “Pussy monster,” you sigh deliriously.

He laughs, having sucked his fingers clean. Pushing yourself up to lean back against the headboard, you try to get your bearings. Your legs are shaking a little and between them is still sensitive, but away from Yoongi the cold air of the hotel room makes your nipples tighten and you want more.

Your husband focuses his attention back on you. Your legs, open just enough so he can see the mess he’s made of you, and the way your skin is flushed, from your face all the way down to your chest. You shiver.

“Cold, sweetheart?” he asks in a low growl. He pulls his shirt off and wipes his face with it, giving you an uninterrupted moment to ogle him. His broad shoulders, defined chest and arms, and toned stomach. The tattoo on his pec. The dusting of hair leading from his belly button down, down, down…

“Warm me up,” you say coquettishly, spreading your legs further.

“Fuck,” he whispers, reverent. Even after all these years, you have the exact same effect on him as the first time. It’s evident in the bulge in his pyjama pants that you eye hungrily. He wraps a hand around each of your ankles, pushing them up to bend your knees, crawling up so he can settle against you and lock your legs around his waist.

You let out a pathetic little sound at the feeling of him against your cunt. You’re still leaking, juices sticking to the insides of your thighs and probably leaving a patch on his pants. “Baby,” you whine. He leans down to kiss you and the grind of his cock against you has you gasping. “Need it,” you whisper into his mouth. “How do you want me?”

Yoongi kisses you one more time, chaste, and shakes his head. “How does my sweet girl want it?”

You flush even warmer. “Like this,” you say shyly. Yoongi smiles at you, fucked out and endeared.

Your hands find their way to his sweaty skin like magnets. Shaky fingertips tracing from his hips up over the flat of his stomach, hard muscles twitching as he sighs under your touch. When you reach his chest, you look up at him from under your lashes – he’s already looking back at you, pretty mouth agape. “The abs are new. I like them.” Then you scratch your blunt nails down them, feeling the muscles jump under your hands.

“Fuck,” he groans, leaning into you. You gasp at the twitch of his cock, the head rubbing your clit. “You’re in for it now.”

“Then fucking give it to me.”

He kisses you again, and he’s just so predictable. Despite his big talk and the way he’s pinning your hips down hard, he takes his time, opening you up to him. Your husband kisses like he drinks – slow and savoury, loves the taste of you, the way you make him feel dazed and light. Letting out little satisfied noises in response to the way you kiss him back, the way you let him have his way with you. If it were up to him, he’d work you up like this for hours. Drinking you in.

Unfortunately for him, you’re worked up enough. He’s grinding into you in tiny movements but the sensitivity from your prior orgasm, the insistent press of his cock between your lips, and the knowledge that you haven’t had him inside you in probably the longest stretch of time since you’d met is driving you insane.

“Take off your fucking pants, Yoongi,” you snap against his mouth, pulling at his waistband. He just laughs. “If you don’t fuck me right now –”

He keeps laughing, breathless and fond, but tips away from you enough to get his pyjama bottoms off and kicked away and hell yeah.

He runs his fingers through your folds and you gasp. Your hips cant up towards his hand but it’s gone immediately, and the sight of him jacking his cock with your wetness makes you whimper.

“So wet,” he murmurs, guiding the head to your pussy. The previous teasing mirth has vanished and there’s only the dark, focused look as he presses forward and – “Fuck.”

“Yoongi!” you cry out. His fingers hadn’t done nearly a good enough job of stretching you. The burn of him as he pushes into you makes your eyes roll back as you feel him pepper kisses over your cheek, down your neck to your collarbone. “Oh –”

“I must be out of my fucking mind,” he grunts, bottoming out. You choke on a sob. His big hand kneads your tit and it feels so fucking good you think you’re going to lose your mind. “How did I go without this for so long?”

He pulls out almost all the way then thrusts back in hard. “Y-Yoon – “ you whine breathily, barely able to make a sound at this point.

“My gorgeous wife, in this bed every night, so needy. This perfect pussy — shit.” He sucks the other nipple into his mouth, buried in you so deep you can’t think of anything but the way he’s filling you so good. The way you hadn’t realized you’d needed.

You’re blubbering at this point, beyond words, as Yoongi chases his orgasm inside you. Kissing every part of you he can reach as the sound of his skin against yours fills the room, playing with your tits the way that drives you wild. You come again with a shout, tears streaming down your face.

“So pretty,” he murmurs, kissing the tears away. He’s still going, deeper now instead of fast. “Can you give me one more, love?”

You’re dizzy with pleasure and overstimulation, but he loves to come with your pussy squeezing him. “Yeah,” you pant. A kiss, slow and deep, as he pushes back in.

Your legs are wrapped so tightly around his waist he can barely pull all the way back out. All you can do is hold on as he takes what he wants from you.

“Shit, shit,” Yoongi groans, hips stuttering. He’s close. “Love you, pretty girl, so fucking good to me,” his voice low and raspy and warm right next to your ear. “Do I make you feel good?”

“Y-yes,” you manage to get out and you can feel his cock throb inside you, rubbing your g-spot and it’s enough. Your vision goes white and you see stars as your entire body tenses up and you tremble all over when it suddenly releases. “Yoongi!”

“Fuuuck,” he grunts. “Squeeze me just like that,” and he’s coming too.

You lay there, panting under Yoongi as he softens inside you. The sweat makes you stick together where you’re touching, and anywhere outside your bed it would make you push him away. But you’re content to lie under him, soft, laboured breaths puffing next to your ear.

“Should’ve used a condom,” you say hoarsely. There’s going to be a mess when he pulls out, you can already feel it.

“Fucking raw used to be so hot,” he sighs, kissing your cheek. “Now it’s a chore.”

Your snort turns into a gasp as he pulls out. Reaching for his discarded shirt, he cleans up as much of his come as he can. You watch him, eyes zeroed in on the mess, licking his lips.

“Reel it in.” You boop his nose and he scrunches it. “I really cannot go another round. You’re gonna have to drag me to the bathroom.”

--------------- xxx ---------------

And he kind of does. On a good day, he could definitely carry you. But after three weeks of touring and a semi-vigorous round of sex, he hitches you onto his back in some semblance of a piggyback. You actually could probably walk, but you know the mood Yoongi’s in.

He lets you pee, then comes to clean you up the rest of the way. Both of you wrapped in fluffy robes, he washes the sweat and tears off your face gently, brushes through your hair with his fingers. Puts up with your halfhearted whining about expensive skincare as he pats it carefully back onto your face.

By the time you’ve dragged yourselves back to bed, the California King large enough that you don’t worry about the mess you’ve made on the other side, all the tension has drained from his body. The frantic energy of performing in a foreign country alone for the first time, melted away.

He’s soft and sleepy when he hitches your leg over his hip, pulls your head onto his chest. “Thank you,” he mumbles. You don’t have to ask him what he means.

You laugh softly. “Silly,” you say, drifting off.

#yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #bts fluff #bts smut #min yoongi imagine

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megalony · 1 year

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I Kept Calling

This is an Eddie Diaz imagine requested by Anon, thank you for this I hope you like it. Any feedback is always lovely, thank you all for the requests they keep me inspired.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefanthefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway

Masterlist

Summary: Eddie goes against his gut and goes to work even though Christopher is ill. But when he gets worse and (Y/n) can't get hold of Eddie, she has to go to the hospital on her own.

Enjoy.

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A morphed smile pulled at Eddie's lips around the toothbrush stuck between his teeth and a deep chuckle vibrated through his chest. He tilted his head to the right and leaned back a little but it didn't do him much good.

The little girl in his arm continued to bat her small fist out, aiming for the toothbrush she clearly thought was a toy he wouldn't let her have. A small gurgle left her lips and she batted her hand against his chest when she couldn't reach what she was aiming for. Her chin moved to prop up on his shoulder and she looked behind him for something else to occupy herself with, letting Eddie finally finish brushing his teeth and rinse his mouth out.

Just when he leaned over the sink to spit out the mouthwash, her legs started to swing and her feet bashed into his stomach making him groan.

"What are you doing to me, eh?" He mumbled quietly and she squealed into his shoulder and started to dribble on his dark navy blue shirt. At least she wasn't throwing up on him, he didn't have the time to change or the excuses to arrive to work with a messed up uniform.

Eddie bounced the six-month-old on his hip as he walked out the bathroom and wandered down towards Christopher's room. He had to get going in a few minutes and he wanted to say goodbye before he left.

He poked his head around the bedroom door but his smile started to fade away when he took in the sight in front of him. Christopher was sat on the floor next to the bed, wrapped up in his dressing gown with the sick bucket on his lap. He looked very pasty and grey with no trace of blood rush to his cheeks and his head was flopped against the mattress.

And then there was (Y/n), stood next to the end of the bed that she had just finished stripping. The bedding was balled up in a pile on the floor and (Y/n) had her hands on her hips when she turned around and a soft smile spread across her face.

"We had a small accident, couldn't make it to the bathroom in time," (Y/n) kept her voice soft and quiet but she smiled down at her boy to let him know neither of them were angry or annoyed. He couldn't help it, all through the night he hadn't been feeling well and he had constantly cried out for them. (Y/n) had found Eddie asleep in the bed with Christopher at midnight, staying with him had been the only thing that seemed to settle him.

And when she came in this morning to check on him and wake him up, he was trying to get out of bed but he didn't have the energy and he threw up all over the bed.

"Oh damn… you don't look so good buddy." Eddie's lips curled into a deep setting frown when Christopher barely raised his head and just about managed to look over at him and form a little smile.

"Are you going now?" (Y/n) glanced at the clock before she looked back at him and Lola who was gurgling quietly into his shoulder and kicking her legs out making Eddie jiggle and move along with her.

"I don't know if I should, he doesn't look well. I can call Cap and take the day off."

Eddie looked between the two kids before he looked back at (Y/n) and bit his lower lip. He never liked to leave Chris when he wasn't well, it played on his mind when he was at work and he couldn't settle until he was back home to look after him. And it wasn't just Chris anymore, (Y/n) would have to battle with Chris and Lola who both needed a lot of attention and care. He would feel guilty heading off to work and leaving (Y/n) with the pair of them to look after on her own.

"No, no you go, they need you. We'll be fine, it's a pyjama day anyway." (Y/n) crossed the room until she was stood in front of him and she could loop her arms around his waist, reeling herself closer to them both until Eddie took the hint and wrapped his free arm around her middle.

It was short notice to call in for the day and it wouldn't be fair when the station always needed as many hands on as possible. (Y/n) could take care of the kids, Chris was going to have a movie day on the sofa anyway and Lola wasn't a fussy baby, not really.

"I promise I'll call you if we need anything." She kissed his neck just below his ear where his sweet spot was and felt him shiver beneath her light touch. She knew he was going to worry but if anything happened he knew she would ring and tell him. Whether it was to ask him to come home because Chris was getting worse or just to let him know that he was feeling better.

"Okay," His hand moved from her waist up to cup her face so he could kiss her before she unravelled her arms from around his waist to let him move. He held Lola up in the air, grinning up at her lovingly when he brushed their noses together and pressed a big kiss to her cheek. "Bye princess." He muttered quietly before gently placing her into (Y/n)'s waiting arms.

He crossed over and bent down in front of Christopher, feeling his heart weigh heavy in his chest when he looked down at him. He didn't seem too bad, he was pale and clearly sick but he was still trying to smile and he looked like he needed a good rest.

"I gotta go now, bud. Do you want me to take you over to the sofa?" He could see that Chris didn't look like he had the energy to lift himself up, let alone walk through to the living room to collapse down on the sofa.

"Yes please," Chris nuzzled his face into Eddie's shoulder and looped his arms around his neck, giggling quietly when Eddie picked him up effortlessly and leaned him into his chest. It didn't seem to matter how old Christopher got, he always loved being carried around by his dad and Eddie loved to pick him up and swing him round. He was all for Christopher being independent and learning new skills, but he was still his little boy at the end of the day and if he wanted to be carried around, Eddie wasn't going to say no.

Eddie carried him down the hall and through into the living room and bent over the sofa, carefully laying him down before he scouted round for one of the many blankets they had lying around the house. He knew Chris would bury himself in blankets and pillows today and watch movies with (Y/n); he was in good hands.

"Here we go, alright I'll see you tonight. I love you, be good for your mum, yeah?"

"Yeah, love you."

Eddie pressed a lasting kiss to his forehead before he went to grab his bag and keys. It was only twelve hours, it would fly by.

***

"Mummy…"

(Y/n) pulled her lip between her teeth and quickly leaned over the crib to pick up Lola who was wriggling, red in the face from crying and sounding the alarm that she wanted something. She had barely been put down for her nap and she was kicking up a fuss again, most likely needing a change since she hadn't long been fed her bottle.

"Mummy!"

"I'm coming sweetheart, I'm coming," She leaned Lola in the crook of her left arm comfortably before she turned and headed out of the nursery.

Her steps were light but quick down the hallway towards the lounge where she had left Chris on his way to sleep with Scooby Doo on tv in the background for him.

When she got into the lounge, she carefully laid Lola down in the playcot beneath the baby window, letting her wriggle and whimper and kick up a fuss. She was going to have to wait a minute or settle herself back down to sleep becaise Christopher needed (Y/n) too.

"Chris, what's wrong honey?" (Y/n) could see the problem before she finished speaking. He was half sitting, half slouched on the sofa with the blue sick bucket in his lap and a mixture of juice and water dribbling from his lips. She'd kept placing new cups of juice and water on the coffee table for him so he stayed hydrated since he wasn't eating anything. But it was making him feel sick too and now anything he tried to keep down was coming back up with vengence. "It's okay," Her voice was gentle and she tried her best to smile despite her growing worry.

She knelt down on the floor in front of him and rubbed her hand up and down his back until she was sure he'd finished throwing up. And she placed the bucket back down on the floor right below him so if he couldn't grab it, at least he could lean over and aim for it.

Scanning her eyes across the coffee table, (Y/n) grabbed the thermometer and gently pushed it into Chris's ear. He didn't look too good and he was going to dehydrate himself if he carried on being sick like this.

He had a fever.

"Let's take this off, it's a bit stuffy in here," (Y/n) smiled but it didn't hide the concern in her eyes when she leaned over and helped him take off his dressing gown and move the blanket to the other side of the sofa. Keeping him warm was only going to elevate his temperature and if it got any higher it would be dangerous. She didn't like where this was going. "Okay, now let's try and get some medicine in you see if it helps."

She highly doubted he would be able to keep something as simple as calpol down when he was like this but she had to try. The one good thing about Chris when he was sick was that he didn't mind taking his medicine. Most kids his age spat it out, refused, cried and played up something rotten; Chris just took whatever medicine he was given. Even if it didn't taste nice, all he did was grimace and ask for a drink.

(Y/n) kissed his temple and helped him lay back down against the pillows before she got up and walked over to the kitchen to grab her phone. She needed to call Eddie.

No answer. Fuck.

"Hey babe, it's me… Chris still doesn't feel good and I might have to take him to the emergency room. Can you call me back when you get a minute please?"

She would give it an hour. An hour to see if the medicine did any good and see if Chris could keep a drink down and keep his temperature down. If not, she would call Eddie again and drive down to A&E with the kids.

Her eyes cast over to the crib in the corner and she felt a small swell of relief when she saw that Lola had settled herself down and was starting to nod back off to sleep. It was one less thing for (Y/n) to do if Lola could calm herself even if for a little while. She headed over to the sofa and sat down, moving Chris's legs so they rested over her lap and her hands gently rubbed up and down his legs to try and comfort him.

Every few minutes (Y/n) glanced down at her watch, wishing time would magically speed up or that Eddie would soon get her message and give her a ring. It was starting to feel like a mistake telling him to go to work rather than stay home with her. She hated being the one around when Chris was ill, Eddie was always calmer than she was and he always knew what to do. He had been trained for medical emergencies whereas she wasn't.

And people listened to Eddie.

(Y/n) didn't know what it was about him, but people always listened and accepted whatever he said. When Eddie took Chris to the doctors or down to A&E, people listened and understood. No one called him dramatic like they had done to (Y/n) once- which Eddie had threatened the man for- and people took him seriously. (Y/n) was always seen as the overprotective mother whereas Eddie was the calm rational dad who clearly knew what he was doing.

Tilting her head back, (Y/n) leaned her head on her hand and her elbow on the back of the sofa, but when she looked down at Chris after a while, her eyes narrowed.

"Sweetheart, do you feel alright?" She moved her hand from his leg up to his arm and gently rubbed his shoulder.

He looked like he was watching tv but his eyes were trained on something just to the side of the tv and they were flickering to the right quite a lot but there was something in his eyes. He was seeing through something rather than looking at it and when (Y/n) pushed up and leaned over him, she realised he was drooling on the pillow; he only did that while he was sleeping.

"Sweetheart?"

His jaw started to tick and move but it took a while for him to actually say something. "Mummy… I, I want," His voice was quiet and his words were slow and slurred and he didn't bother to turn towards her either, he stayed motionless next to her.

"What do you want?" (Y/n) brushed her finger against his cheek but when she felt his muscles start to tense and his legs go rigid on her lap, fear struck her chest.

His legs lifted slightly from her lap as they straightened and tensed like rulers and his feet bent and pointed like a ballet dancer standing on their tiptoes. The tightening sensation travelled up his body and made his arms push down and his fingers started to curl and twist before his head snapped back against the pillow, jutting his chin out in the air.

He was having a seizure.

(Y/n) moved into action, carefully getting out from under Chris's legs so she could kneel down on the floor beside the sofa in front of him rather than behind him. Her hands moved to cup his face and she leaned over, making sure he was still breathing before her finger hooked beneath his lip and gently pulled it up so she could check his mouth. His jaw was clenched tight but she was sure he wasn't biting down on his tongue; that was a relief.

He hadn't had a seizure in over a year and the last one he had barely lasted a minute, if that. The last big seizure Chris suffered had happened at night, he just managed to cry out for them and when they got in his room he was hanging on the edge of the bed. Eddie had collapsed on the floor and grabbed him before he rolled off the bed and they laid him down on the rug. It had been so bad that he pierced his tongue with his teeth and made it bleed and swell up.

"You're alright sweetheart, I'm here, shhh, you're doing so good," (Y/n) peeled his glasses off his face and put them down on the table before she carded her fingers slowly through his curls so he could feel her and knew she was still there with him.

He was mainly trembling but (Y/n) could never tell if he was conscious or aware of anything or not and he couldn't really express it afterwards. His eyes were open and visible so she tried to look as calm as possible in case he could still process and see her and she always talked to him so if he could hear, he was soothed and calmed down.

When a minute came and went, (Y/n) started to chew on her nail and her hand started to tremble through his hair.

After another minute slowly trickled by, Chris seemed to stop, the trembling started to wear off and although his muscles stayed pointed and tense, he went still except for his eyes. His eyes moved left and right like a metronome or a pendulum, slowly swinging left to right.

"That's it sweetheart,"

(Y/n) pushed herself higher up on her knees so she could lean over him but the timing was wrong. She leaned over as if to kiss his temple but his head shot back again and made her freeze before his arms locked and his body jolted forward into her. His weight and the shock knocked (Y/n) off balance and her back burned when she fell back into the coffee table with a crash.

Chris's body started to spasm and he rolled off the sofa, landing awkwardly on top of (Y/n) and his arms became trapped between their bodies, bashing both of them like he was throwing punches or fighting her.

"Fuck! Chris, baby… Shit!" (Y/n) curled her left arm behind his neck and curved her right arm over his lower waist so she could push forward back ono her aching knees and roll him off of her and onto the floor.

She kept him laid on his side so he was facing her and carefully tried to tilt his head up to keep his airways clear and open.

His spasms became furious, his arms were stuck with his elbows out and his hands curled into awful contortions and his chest pushed out while his legs jerked back and forth, bashing into (Y/n)'s thighs every few seconds. (Y/n) could hear the way his head crashed into the wooden floor but she didn't want to elevate his head or put a pillow beneath his head when he was like this so she tried to keep her hand on the back of his head.

With a deep growl, (Y/n) hit her hand around on the sofa until her fingers curled around her phone so she could ring Eddie again.

No answer.

"Eddie please call me, Chris is having a seizure- a bad one- oww, fuck! I'm gonna have to call an ambulance I need you to call me!"

Out of desperation, (Y/n) tried to dial Bobby's number just on the off chance he had his phone on him and could answer her, but she got his voicemail too. She had never actually spoken to Bobby but Eddie gave her his number in case of an emergency. They had to be out on an important call if they couldn't answer their phones, (Y/n) knew they took them out on most of their calls unless told not to.

"Hello? I need an ambulance to five Brooke Avenue. My son's having a seizure it's lasted almost four minutes without stopping and he has a fever. He's eight."

"Okay, is your son breathing? What's his name?"

"Christopher Diaz, yeah he's breathing, b-but I think he's started to bite down on his tongue. There's blood now." (Y/n) put her phone on speaker and laid it on the sofa so she could crouch down a little more and try to look but she knew he had bit his tongue this time. Blood and spit were dribbling down his chin.

"Paramedics are being dispatched to you now. Has he had seizures before?"

"Yes, but not often, this is his first one in over a year."

What kind of a call was Eddie on? How long was he going to be before he could answer his phone? He needed to get back to the station and check his phone now. (Y/n) couldn't do this on her own.

Eddie, I need you!

Crossing his arms over his chest, Eddie leaned back against the wall and glanced his eyes around the waiting area. He prayed they weren't going to be here for long, he was never good at waiting for anything, especially like this where he couldn't even be of any help or use to anyone.

Waiting with (Y/n) while she was in labour for her to dilate had been awful, Eddie hated how long it took when he had no patience for hanging around like that. But at least then he had helped (Y/n) pace up and down the room and helped her sit in different positions and talked her ear off to keep her calm.

He couldn't think of any conversation to strike up with the team while they waited for Chimney to be examined and assessed. He wasn't in a life-threatening condition, not like when he had been stabbed or when he got the metal punctured through his skull. But he was part of the team and they had to wait, they had to know he was alright.

"Wanna go grab a drink?" Buck patted Eddie's arm to gain his attention and when he nodded, Buck rose to his feet. "Anyone want a coffee?"

Eddie uncrossed his arms and pushed himself off the wall, stretching his arms above his head but he felt his heart lurch up into his throat when a sudden voice caught his attention.

"Stop! Move him he's seizing, he will choke! Why aren't you listening to me?"

Lightening shot up the base of Eddie's spine and he felt every single hair on his body stand up on end. He knew that voice, he would recognise that voice in his sleep. It was (Y/n). What the Hell was she doing in the hospital? She was at home with the kids when he left this morning-

Christopher!

He turned on his heels, pupils blown wide with panic and his body fueled on adrenaline as he scanned around the waiting area and the reception until he caught a passing glance of familiar hair and the tight fitting purple shirt (Y/n) had worn this morning which always drove him crazy.

"No, no no!" Eddie's feet moved faster than lightning and he skidded across the polished floor towards his family. He could hear (Y/n)'s quiet hiccups mixing in with Lola's tepid cries and he could see his daughter bashing and wriggling around in (Y/n)'s arm, her bright red face a mess with tears until her beady eyes clocked on him.

(Y/n) had Lola in her left arm, juggling to keep her steady on her hip and her phone was clenched in her right hand.

Her whole body jumped when Eddie stumbled up behind her, his hands finding their place on her hips as he glued himself to her back and simultaneously pulled (Y/n) back into his chest. He could feel the gasp that vibrated up through her chest and she stumbled back into him.

But when her head turned and her eyes locked on him, there were too many emotions floating around in her eyes for Eddie to focus on.

"Eddie!" (Y/n) took half a second to let relief consume her body and she relished in the kiss he pressed against her forehead before he looked down at the stretcher she had been following.

Christopher was laid on his back with his chest partially pushed up from how tense his muscles were which were making his limbs go straight as a board. His eyes had rolled to the back of his head so the whites of his eyes were the only thing visible. He looked beyond pale like he had been painted with make up for halloween and his skin was flushed with sweat but the blood that was dried along with spit around his lips made Eddie's eyes water.

"What happened?"

"Sir who-"

"I'm his father, what happened-" Eddie dug his fingertips into (Y/n)'s hips but when he did a double take down at Christopher, something raged inside him like a wildfire. "He's choking!"

Eddie let go of (Y/n) and moved closer to the stretcher until his knees bumped against the frame. When one of the paramedics dared to grab his arm to move him, venom sparked in his eyes that set alight. His jaw ground down and he flung his arm out, silently telling the man to get away from him before he lost his very controlled temper.

He heard (Y/n) mutter an 'I told you' to the paramedic and it broke his heart even more but he had to try and focus if they weren't going to listen or help.

"Alright son, come here," Eddie held the back of Chris's neck and his leg and carefully turned his tense body until he was laid on his right side, facing him. Then Eddie crouched down to be level with him and tilted his head back.

He was lucky he had done training for this sort of thing and when Christopher was little his seizures were more prominent so Eddie had taken a course. He had to know how to administer emergency anti-convulsant meds to Chris if his seizures didn't stop. He was shown how to safely open Chris's mouth if his jaw was locked and how to push a dissolvable pill under his tongue which would hopefully stop the meds. Eddie was also shown how to move his tongue if and when he started to choke during a seizure.

Chris was strong but due to his cerebal palsy, he didn't have great muscle control and that went in Eddie's favour whenever he had to do something like this. It was easy to wiggle Chris's jaw loose and open his mouth and with two fingers, Eddie hooked them around his tongue and pulled it back so he could breathe.

Chris took a large gulp of air which seemed to fuel him into trembling more but he wasn't flinging and spasming his limbs out like he had been earlier, he was locked tight now.

"There you go, buddy." Eddie rubbed his hand up and down Chris's back and checked his pulse while he was there just to be safe but he knew he had barely choked for more than twenty seconds. It wouldn't cause any lasting damage or further problems. But as he kept his hand on Chris's back, Eddie turned his head to the left and his eyes went wide when he looked at (Y/n).

"He chomped down on his tongue during his seizure when I called 911 which you should have known. It's swollen and therefore a choking hazard so if I tell you something, as his mother you should listen to me. Get him to a doctor, now."

A quiet 'damn' passed through Eddie's lips as a small bubble of pride burst in his chest as he pulled away from the stretcher. He curled his arms around her and pulled her back into his chest, eyeing the paramedics carefully when they started to wheel the stretcher again.

(Y/n) could see in the ambulance that he wasn't going to stay conscious for long. The seizure wore off when the medics arrived but Chris had stayed tense and locked in place and he had been only half conscious, he could barely talk at all. He bit his tongue deeply and it swelled up immediately so (Y/n) knew if he seized again he was liable to choke if he wasn't in the recovery position.

They never listened to her.

"I called, Eddie I kept calling and I- I tried Bobby but I couldn't get through… I didn't know what to do he kept seizing, five full minutes he stayed in one-"

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry baby," When she turned round in his arms, Eddie pressed a hand to the back of her head and kept the other tight around her waist, reeling her in until she was as close as possible with Lola wedged between them.

His phone was still in the truck. He didn't have a ziplock bag to keep it in and they were at a flooded house this morning, he didn't want to drop it in the water, then when Chimney got hurt he forgot to grab it back from the truck.

He should have checked in on them.

Eddie kissed the side of (Y/n)'s head before he locked eyes with Bobby stood a few feet away. Great, the whole team had seen an episode of his life that he would prefer to keep behind closed doors. A silent conversation passed between them and Bobby nodded, letting him know he could go with his family, as far as they were concerned Eddie's shift was now over.

His family needed him.

***

"Babe…"

Eddie's tired eyes looked from (Y/n) towards the door to see what she was looking and nodding towards but he felt his heart drop to his stomach like a sinking stone when he looked through the open blinds. The team. They were stood in the corridor, trying to peer through the window to check how they were doing.

They were a family and Eddie was part of this family, they wouldn't leave him behind without checking on him.

"I'll go talk to them."

"You could let them in, you know. We don't bite," (Y/n) dragged her fingers through her hair but she managed a smile that sent Eddie's heart pulsing.

He didn't tell the team about his family, something just told him to stay private. He was so used to keeping his private life away from his work life, it wasn't normal for him to introduce the two worlds together. But he knew Hen's wife and son, he knew Bobby and Athena and her children, he knew Buck's sister Maddie and they all talked to him and asked him out for drinks after work.

Maybe letting the two world collide wouldn't be such a bad thing. It would be new people for Chris to charm and a few more people for (Y/n) to be close to who understood what it was like.

He kissed her cheek and brushed his thumb across her jaw before he headed over to the door to brief them all before he allowed them in.

Eddie could feel the nerves and adrenaline coming to life in his stomach and he cradled the back of Lola's head, tucking her a little tighter into his chest as if to keep her calm when he knew she was fast asleep snugged into his shirt.

"Is everything okay, how are they doing?" Bobby had his arms crossed over his chest but his expression was the picture of calm and serene, as always. He was stood beside Buck who was sat in the chair across from Chris's room next to Hen whose face lit up when she noticed the bundle resting in Eddie's arms.

"It's all okay now… that was my son, Christopher. He has an infection and it brought on some bad seizures but he's on antibiotics now. This is my daughter, Lola, and through here is my fiancee (Y/n). They'd like to meet you all,"

Eddie opened the door and walked through, leading the three of them into the room behind him where Christopher was sat up and awake, looking a bit more like himself.

"Guys, this is Christopher. Chris, these are my friends who I work with down at the station, they've come to see you."

Eddie wasn't surprised that Buck was the first one to sit down next to Chris and introduce himself. They were similar in mental age, Buck had a childlike side to him that was playful and easy going, he would click with Chris like two friends at school together. And Bobby perched himself at the foot of the bed, smiling as he introduced himself to (Y/n).

When Hen started to coo and rub at Lola's cheek, Eddie started to relax and a smile took over his face.

This wouldn't be so bad after all.

#eddie diaz imagine #eddie diaz x reader #eddie x reader #imagine #911 imagine #911 #911 fox #evan buckley #bobby nash

747 notes · View notes

thelikesofus · 7 months

Text

never known comfort like laying next to you

9-1-1 on ABC | Buddie | 2.6k words | cuddling and snuggling, confessions, sharing a bed, soft boys being soft

A long shift ends with a quiet pizza and movie night within the walls of the Diaz house followed by a quiet confession beneath Eddie’s duvet

Read on AO3

When Buck and Eddie finally drag themselves over the threshold of Eddie's front door Buck feels the last of his strength fall to the floor along with his duffle bag and he absently follows Eddie to the couch.

"I could sleep for a month," Eddie whines as he lazes back against the cushions.

"So could I," Buck agrees. "But we've gotta pick up Chris."

Eddie groans and Buck watches the movement out of the corner of his squinted eyes as Eddie rolls his head back and forth against the back of the couch. "Not for like an hour."

Buck hums and breathes deeply. His bones ache and his feet tingle from standing all day. None of their calls today had been out of the ordinary but they had been never-ending. They'd barely get back to the station before they'd be loading up again and if Buck has to see another exploded rice cooker ever again it'll be too soon.

"Do you want to shower first?" Buck asks.

"Yeah, thanks," Eddie says. "Just give me a minute. I can't feel my legs yet."

Buck laughs but it comes out as more of a wheeze, even his lungs are tired. He stares at the ceiling as the light fixture blurs in and out of focus. He feels the cushions shift as Eddie slumps to the side and then there’s a weight against Buck’s shoulder and a soft puff of air across his throat.

“Eddie, we gotta stay awake.” Buck mumbles but his words slur together, his tongue heavy in his mouth. “Eds?”

He gets a half attempt at a grumble from Eddie and nothing more before Buck's eyelids fall shut under the weight of his exhaustion and the world fades away.

He wakes sometime later to the sound of the front door closing and the clack of crutches against the floor. Oh shit, Christopher!

Buck is about to scramble out of his seat but he’s held in place by the weight of Eddie still sound asleep against Buck’s chest and then Carla comes into view and Buck goes slack again as relief takes him over.

“What time is it?” Buck rushes to ask though it comes out slurred.

“Just after half past three.” Then she must take in the panic on Buck’s face as she smiles and comes over to rub a hand over Buck’s shoulder before she takes a seat in the armchair across from Eddie’s couch. “Oh no, were you boys so tired you forgot you already had me rostered to pick up Chris?”

Buck yawns. “Thank you, Carla. What would we do without you?”

Carla laughs and stands up again. “I’m sure you’d manage but I’m happy to help. I believe Chris has gone straight to his room. They got a new science project today and he was excited to start it as soon as he got home. I’m sure he’ll come out as say ‘hello’ soon enough.”

Buck yawns again and Carla rolls her eyes. “Get some sleep, Buck. Eddie’s got the right idea.” She nods down at where Eddie is drooling on Buck’s uniform t-shirt and Buck feels heat start to climb up his neck as he remembers that Eddie is still sprawled out against him and sound asleep. Carla waves goodbye and then she’s out the door again.

Buck should probably wake Eddie, tell him to go have that shower, and make him go sleep in his actual bed so that he doesn’t end up with a crick in his neck but Eddie looks so peaceful and something is reassuring about the weight of him against Buck's chest and he just can’t bring himself to disturb him.

The sound of Christopher’s crutches makes themselves known once more as he comes into the living room from the hallway. The boy pauses for a moment when he notices both Buck and his Dad on the couch.

“Is Dad asleep?” He asks, his voice drops to a whisper and Buck smiles and beckons him over.

“Yeah, he is.” Buck reaches up to hug Chris with his free arm as the boy teeters forward to hug Buck over Eddie’s head. “Did you have a good day at school, Buddy?”

“Yeah! “ In his excitement, Chris forgot to whisper, and then sudden volume causes Eddie to grumble and stir, his nose scrunches up and Buck watches his eyebrows furrow as he presses his face into Buck. Buck rubs an absent hand up the back of Eddie’s head and Eddie sighs contently and settles again. When Buck looks up, Chris is watching them with an inquisitive expression on his face.

“How about pizza for dinner tonight?” Buck asks and Chris nods excitedly. “Okay, can you get my phone for me? It’s in the outside pocket of my work bag.”

Buck points to where he thinks he remembers setting his bag down and Chris makes quick work of finding his phone and bringing it back to him. “Can we get pepperoni?”

“Of course, Bud. Hey, how about you go finish your homework while we wait for the pizza to arrive.”

“Okay. Are you going to wake up Dad?”

“When the pizza arrives,” Buck says, already navigating to the pizza website awkwardly with his phone in his left hand and placing their usual order.

True to his word, Buck reluctantly shakes Eddie awake when his phone beeps with a text notifying him that their order is on its way.

Eddie wakes slower than Buck did, his eyes opening and dropping closed again a few times as Buck squeezes his shoulder.

“Hey, Eds. Sorry, man, but you gotta wake up now.”

“Wah? What time is it?” Eddie asks, his head still firmly pressed into Buck’s chest.

“Almost dinner time, Carla brought Chris home for you.”

Eddie pauses momentarily, taking in the information before he sits up and looks around. “Oh. Oh, yeah that’s good. I forgot she was getting him today.”

He yawns rubs his hands up his face as he leans back against the couch and then freezes and drops his hands to look at Buck. Eddie’s sleep-glazed gaze flits between Buck’s face and the damp patch on Buck’s chest and he ducks his head embarrassed. “Sorry, about your shirt.”

Buck shrugs. “You’re good. I ordered pizza, it should be here in a minute. You probably have time for a quick shower if you want.”

Eddie rubs at one eye with a fist and nods, slowly getting to his feet. “Okay, thanks.”

Eddie disappears down the hallway, still yawning as Buck sits up and stretches out his numb shoulder. His side is cold where Eddie was lying just moments ago and he dings through the nearest duffle to him for a sweatshirt. As he tugs it over his head he realizes that it’s probably Eddie’s but at this point, it barely matters. Their wardrobes have merged almost indecipherably over the years.

Buck summons Christopher to help set the table while Buck pulls two beers out of the fridge and pours a glass of juice for Chris. In the distance, he can hear the shower turn off and Eddie shuffling around his bedroom getting dressed. As Chris lays out cutlery and Buck passes him plates Chris chats excitedly about his new science project and Buck promises to help him with the actual experiment tomorrow.

Chris is making all sorts of other plans for their Saturday, including a trip to the park, when Eddie comes back into the kitchen. His hair is still damp and hanging over his forehead in a way that forces Buck to look away and turn his attention back to looking for the bottle opener—which always seems to find its way to the very back of Eddie’s drawer—so that he can open the beers.

“Dad, can we go to the skate park tomorrow?”

“If the weather is nice, then yeah.” Eddie shrugs. “I don’t see why not.”

“Cool! Buck is going to teach me how to do a kickflip.” Chris says brightly.

Buck laughs and holds a now-open beer out to Eddie who takes it with a quiet smile. “I said no such thing! I can’t even do a kickflip, Chris.”

“Well, maybe I’ll figure it out, and then I can teach you,” Chris says with full confidence. Secretly, Buck does know how to do a kickflip but the last time he did one he was fourteen and it ended in a trip to the emergency center with a broken nose, a piece of information he is sure Eddie will thank him for not sharing. Besides, Chris literally cannot fall off his skateboard thanks to the frame Eddie and Buck built for him, the frame that recently needed modification to accommodate Christopher’s latest growth spurt. The kid has been growing like a weed since the summer.

The doorbell rings and Buck shuffles around Eddie, past the counter, and out to the front door to get their pizza. When he returns with the boxes in his arms Chris and Eddie and both sitting at the table waiting for him. Eddie has brought Buck’s beer out from the kitchen for him and it is waiting for him at his seat.

Together they make room on the table for the boxes and then they dig in. They talk as they eat, Christopher with pizza sauce smeared across his cheek and a dozen questions about what makes a rice cooker explode, Buck patiently explaining the science of pressure mechanisms to him, and Eddie watching them as he contently chews on his slice of three meat barbeque pizza.

“Can we watch a movie tonight?” Chris asks around a mouthful of pizza. Buck pulls a napkin from the pile in the middle of the table and passes it to Chris.

“Have you done your homework?” Eddie asks.

“He was doing it while you were snoozing,” Buck says and Chris giggles, bright and gleeful. Eddie just rolls his eyes.

“It’s Friday, Dad. I have all weekend to finish it. Jason was talking about this old movie at school today and it sounded funny.”

“What was the movie?” Eddie asks.

“Shark Story or something?”

Buck struggles not to choke on his pizza and sends a horrified look in Eddie’s direction. “Shark Tale, you mean?”

Christopher’s face lights up. “Yeah, yeah. That one.”

The movie is a hit and Christopher vows to ask Jason for more movie recommendations the following week at school, right before he falls asleep against Buck's shoulder.

“I seem to make a pretty good pillow tonight.” He jokes and Eddie’s cheeks flush pink.

“I did say I was sorry,” Eddie grumbles, getting up from the couch to clear away their beer bottles and the empty popcorn bowl.

“No, no. It’s fine, Eds. I was just teasing.” Buck leans back against the couch and watches Eddie walk into the kitchen and back again. “You want me to carry him?”

Eddie glances down at Christopher who is slowly sinking lower and lower down Buck's side and filling out the space Eddie left when he stood up. He shakes his head. “No, don't worry about it. I don't want to wake him, he can sleep on the couch tonight. It's not like he has school tomorrow.”

“Oh, yeah. Okay.” Buck says. He slowly eases himself up off the couch, lowering Christopher’s head down to meet the pillow Eddie pulls from the cupboard and passes to Buck. The pillow that is usually Buck’s when he stays over. The pillow he thought he would be using tonight. “I'll get out of your hair then.”

“What?” Eddie looks up at him, startled.

Buck waves to Christopher now snoring lightly on the couch in front of them, Buck's usual duvet tucked up around his chin. “Well, we're not both gonna fit on there.” He jokes.

“Oh, right.” Eddie chews on the end of his thumb. “Still, you don't have to go home. I was hoping for pancakes in the morning.”

“Oh, were you now?” Buck raises an eyebrow and gives Eddie a playful shove. “I'll take Chris’ bed then, I guess.”

“You're too long for Chris’ bed.”

“I'm too long for that couch too but that hasn't seemed to matter for the last however many years I've been sleeping on it.”

Eddie stares past him for a moment as if he's lost in thought.

“It's okay, I'll go home and I'll come back first thing in the morning to make your panca—.”

“Stay with me.”

“Huh?” Eloquent.

“With me,” Eddie repeats as if that will make it make sense. “In my bed. It's not like we haven't shared before. Besides, I hear you make a good pillow.”

Buck feels heat start to rise in his cheeks and he ducks his head, stalking down the hall. “Well, come on then. It's getting late.”

They get ready for bed in relative silence. Buck finds his spare toothbrush in the bathroom and Eddie passes him a pair of sweatpants and an old T-shirt. Buck is pretty sure the pants are some of his own that he'd left here at some point. The T-shirt is definitely Eddie's. It's pale grey and worn thin with a small hole at the hem but it hangs softly over Buck’s shoulders.

Eddie knocks before coming into the bathroom to brush his teeth next to Buck in the mirror. There's something so normal about it that even though they have done this dozens of times before it still blows Buck away at the comfort such a simple process when done together can bring him.

They climb into opposite sides of the bed—Eddie by the door and Buck by the window—they don't even have to talk about it.

Buck expects it to be awkward. The first night they had shared a bed during quarantine they had both lain stiff as boards for hours before eventually Eddie had kicked him in the shin and they'd gone to sleep. It got easier each night after that.

Now, they lay loose-limbed next to each other with barely a foot of space between them. If Buck stretched out his fingers he could probably find Eddie's hand right by his. So he does—in a moment of stupid bravery—and Eddie grips his fingers back, threading his between Buck's, locking them together.

“Thank you for staying,” Eddie whispers.

“Thank you for not letting me leave,” Buck replies.

“I never like it when you do,” Eddie says and it feels like a confession.

Buck rolls onto his side, facing Eddie and pulling their intertwined hands up to rest on the mattress between their heads. Eddie turns his head to him. “I'd stay forever if you'd have me.”

Eddie rolls over and places his other hand over their joint fists. “You already have me .”

Something hot and radiant boils up in Buck's chest. He reaches up and hesitates a moment with his hand hovering over Eddie's cheek, but then Eddie turns his face up into it and noses along the edge of Buck's thumb.

“Roll over.” Eddie pushes at Buck's shoulder till he's flat on his back. “I want my pillow back.”

Buck can't help the laugh that bubbles out of him as Eddie shuffles closer and practically drapes himself over Buck, resting his head in the juncture between his shoulder and his neck. He sinks into the mattress beneath him, letting the weight of Eddie settle over him like a blanket.

“You do make a good pillow.”

“Stay.” Buck whispers against Eddie's forehead.

“Forever, if you'll have me,” Eddie replies, laying his hand palm down on Buck's chest, right over his steadily beating heart.

Buck lays his hand over Eddie's. “You already have me .”

#buddie #buddie fic #911 #911 abc #meegs writes stuff #evan 'buck' buckley #eddie diaz #911 fox #buck x eddie #eddie x buck #911fic #911 fic

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