#chim shut your beautiful mouth

[lisbonsteresa]

[vibrating out of my skin]

#oooh dear lord #i'm gonna have to start watching this weekly again if you're gonna tease a madney wedding like this #WAIT WHO DIED FIVE YEARS AGO??? #chim shut your beautiful mouth #oh no oh NO i take back that previous tag i'm not watching if you're foreshadowing a bobby breakdown i can't do that #that's my sexy jarhead dad #AAAAAALBEEEEEEEEEEERT OH MY GOD #my PRINCE #(lot of tags here. well.)

[whump-imagines]

Meeting the Firefam

Eddie x reader

~1600 words

Warnings: epileptic reader. Hopefully accurately portrayed.

You parked in front of the station and turned off the ignition. Taking one final deep breath, you pushed the door open and stepped out. You didn't know why you were so nervous. Meeting Eddie’s coworkers shouldn't seem so frightening.

What if they hated you? What if they told him to break up with you? You knew they were more like family to him than just coworkers. Their opinions mattered a lot. You had only been dating him a little over a month but you had fallen hard. You really couldn't imagine your life without him and Chris and even Carla.

You needed them to like you.

Making your way inside, you quickly spotted Eddie as he approached. You greeted him with a kiss before he pulled you into a hug.

“Hey, you. How was traffic?” He asked.

You shrugged. “Normal. Slow.” Eddie knew it was your least favorite part about LA.

“I think lunch is almost ready. You ready to meet everyone?”

“No.” You wrapped your hands around his bicep as he started walking toward the trucks.

He leaned over and kissed your temple. “I told you they’re going to love you. You have nothing to worry about.” He pulled you along with him towards Buck and another firefighter beside the truck.

Buck smiled when he spotted you. “Hey, Y/N. Glad you finally decided to come have lunch with us.”

“Hi, Buck. Someone has been persistent.” You looked at Eddie just in time to catch his shrug.

“Y/N, this is Ravi.” Eddie introduced.

Ravi lifted his hand for you to shake. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“You too.”

Eddie pulled you away towards the stairs that led to the loft. You couldn't help but look around at everything. “This is a beautiful building.”

Eddie nodded. “I agree. It's my favorite station in the city.”

You had barely made it to the top of the stairs before you were being engulfed in hugs. “Oh, uh, hi.”

Eddie chuckled. “This is Hen and Chimney.”

“We are so excited to finally meet you. Eddie here won't shut up about you,” Chimney said.

You glanced at Eddie, catching him trying to hide his blush. “I don't talk about her that much,” he argued.

“Constantly,” Hen mouthed at you with a grin.

Next, Eddie led you over to the kitchen. “And this is Cap.”

The man in front of the stove wiped his hands on a dish towel before reaching out for a handshake. “It's Bobby.”

“Nice to meet you. It smells amazing in here.”

Bobby smiled. “Well, thank you. This will be done in a few minutes. Eddie, can you grab everyone down stairs?”

“On it.” Eddie pointed to the couches. “You can make yourself comfortable over there.”

Within ten minutes, everyone was getting settled at the table. Eddie took your hand to pull you up from the couch. As he pulled out a chair for you, you suddenly felt your left arm go numb.

“Oh no.” You mumbled. You reached out towards Eddie as your knees buckled and the world around you disappeared.

Eddie was quick to catch you before you could hit the ground. “Woah. Y/N?” When you didn't open your eyes he slowly lowered you to the floor. Seconds later you were convulsing violently. Eddie couldn't help but to just stare at you in shock.

Chim was on the floor beside Eddie a second later. “Eddie, we got her.”

“I'll grab a med kit,” Hen announced as she ran for the stairs.

Chimney kept you rolled on your side. Bobby stepped closer to pull Eddie away. “They need room to work.”

Eddie tried to resist. “I should help.”

Buck stepped beside his best friend to keep him out of the way.

Bobby stepped towards you and grabbed your foot, pulling off your shoe. “Medical alert. Epilepsy.” He pointed at the shoelace tag as he looked towards Eddie.

Eddie shook his head. “I didn't know. Why didn't she tell me?”

Hen returned with a monitor and med kit and Chim filled her in. “Epilepsy. Let's just give it a minute.”

Eddie pushes past Buck and sat down on the ground by your head. He whispered soft reassurances in case you could hear him.

Chim pulled a pulse ox monitor out of the med kit and clipped it on your finger.

“She's barely breathing,” Eddie pointed out. He knew that was common with seizures but still couldn't help the mild panic he felt.

“That's normal,” Hen reminded him. She started to attach an oxygen mask to the tank she’d carried upstairs just in case.

Next, Chim started to attach cardiac leads to your chest. Once he'd finished, they waited for the seizure to stop.

“That's five minutes,” Bobby pointed out.

Hen and Chim sighed as they locked eyes with each other. “Alright, let's push Ativan,” Chim said.

“I'll start an IV,” Hen announced. “Eddie can you hold her arm?” He did as asked, trying to hold your arm as still as possible without hurting you. “I'm in.”

Chim pushed the meds he'd drawn up as soon as IV was secured. It took about another twenty seconds for the seizure to finally stop.

Everyone let out a relieved breath. Eddie pushed some hair back behind your ear.

“Let's get her loaded up and to the hospital,” Chimney broke the momentary silence.

Hen nodded. “I'll go radio dispatch and get ready.”

Within five minutes you were loaded into the ambulance with Eddie and Chim beside you as Hen shifted into drive.

“Ugh.” You groaned a few minutes later. “N-no hospital,” you mumbled out fighting your grogginess.

Eddie ran his hand over your head. “Yes, hospital.”

You huffed, frustrated you can't get the words out to explain. “E-epi–”

“We know about your epilepsy, we found your alert tag,” Eddie interrupted. “Sweetheart, your seizure lasted almost six minutes. Hen and Chim had to push meds to stop it. You have to go in.”

Your eyebrows rose in surprise. Suddenly you were glad you'd been with them for lunch and not alone at home. You knew he was right and allowed yourself to relax. “Tired.”

Eddie pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “That's the medicine. You can sleep.”

You nodded as your eyes drifted closed. You weren't sure you could have stayed awake even if you'd tried.

A few hours later, you were finally settled into a room after being poked and prodded. They had run all kinds of tests trying to figure out what might have caused the long seizure.

“Anything I can get for you?” the nurse asked.

You shook your head as you shifted in an attempt to find a comfortable position. Every muscle was sore.

“Okay. I'll let your visitors know they can come in now, if that's alright with you,” the nurse says as she walks toward the door.

“Visitors? Plural?” You ask surprised.

“You have a whole herd of firefighters waiting out there for you,” she explains.

“Oh, wow. Could you just send Eddie in for now?”

She smiles kindly. “Of course, honey.”

Eddie pushes the door open not five minutes later. He pulls up a chair and takes your hand in his, careful to avoid your IV line.

“Hi,” you greeted

“Hi. How ya feeling?” He asked.

“Kinda like someone put me through a blender.”

He chuckled and nodded. “You scared me. I'm just glad Bobby noticed your medical alert tag.”

“I'm sorry,” you sighed. “This is definitely not how I planned to tell you about my epilepsy.”

He locks eyes with you. “So you were planning to tell me.” He looks annoyed or maybe hurt that you hadn't already told him.

“Eventually.” You drop your gaze to the bed. “It's not exactly an easy conversation. It's caused a few break ups over the years.”

“What do you mean?” He looks genuinely confused.

“I'm too much to deal with. No one wants to deal with seizures,” you try to explain. “And you already have to deal with sick people all day at work. I'm sure the last thing you want to do is deal with the same at home.” You sniffle. “I'll understand if you want out now.”

“Y/N,” Eddie said, placing a finger under your chin to make you look at him. “I love you. This could never change that. Any guy who dumped you because of this is an asshole.”

Tears rolled down your face before you were suddenly sobbing, relief washing over you in waves.

Eddie moved quickly to sit beside you on the bed. Pulling you into his side and shishing you softly.

You had been so worried about telling him for so long. “I-I'm sorry. I should have told you.” You sniffled harshly. “I should have known you'd accept this part of me.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. I know now. That's all that matters.”

Eventually you calmed down but you were beyond exhausted. “Hey, isn't everyone still out there waiting?”

“Yeah.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I'll text them that you're okay and let them know they can head home.”

Placing a hand over his screen, you shook your head. “No. I want to see them.”

“You need to rest,” he argued. “They can come back tomorrow or we can go to the station if you're discharged.”

“Just a quick visit. Please? Fifteen minutes.”

Sighing, he stood from where he was still perched on the bed. “Ten.”

“Deal.”

#911 fanfic #eddie diaz x reader #9 1 1 x reader #eddie diaz imagine #911 reader insert

[neoarchipelago]

I was looking through Pinterest because i have an addiction which is called 'making a moodboard for the slightest prompt' and no spoilers but completely unrelated i found some wonderful art of a known prompt which is Ghost!Cat.

And... Here's what's eating my neurons:

In a world where some have a soul link to a kind of animal, making them able to share some particularities with said animal, Simon Ghost Riley doesn't show any. Everybody knows he has a soul link.

He hides them. No one has ever seen it. There's rumors, bear, wolf, tiger, lion, viper, crocodile... God who knew what kind of terrifying animal he could be?

You were just as curious. But you left it at that. No more. He was your lieutenant and you wouldn't even dare ask him. As others flaunted and displayed their particularities, tails, scales, feathers, fur, the only thing visible once in a while was his slighted pupils on the field.

It was inked in your head, the way his pupils dilated and shrunk right under your gaze. It was beautiful.

You hurried as night had fallen, running up the strains to his office. Captain Price had instructed you to give the lieutenant a file for the report before you could go to your barracks.

You hadn't intended to barge in. To be blessed with this view. But the door was slightly open. And your knocking only opened it more. The fluffy black tail and perked up ears grabbing all your attention.

He had stared at you wide eyed, the same look on your face. You were both frozen in place.

"Sergeant?!" He scolded a slight hiss behind his voice.

"I...I'M SORRY! CAPTAIN PRICE... TOLD... HE..."

You stumbled. He was going to kill you. On the spot. You scurried to his desk dropping the file before running for the door. Unfortunately for you, he was fast ... nimble. He had hopped over his desk, shutting the door in font of you before you could even reach it, pressing you against it. You were panting. He was going to kill you! This was the end.

"Breathe..." He whispered against your ear.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. He spun you around, now your back against the wall as you tried not to look up at his fluffy ears. His hand grabbed your jaw making you look up at him.

Oh... This mask has holes for his ears... Funny...

You blushed at the thought.

"You didn't see anything." He stated.

You shook your head.

"Good."

You bit your lip as he let go, looking down at you.

"Are you...?" You tried, making him tilt his head to the side, the heat rising in your cheeks even more at his cuteness. "Are you .. a panther?" You asked.

He winced. No. Not a panther.

"Cat..." He mumbled.

You eyes lit up, expression excited as you slightly jumped on your feet, his eyes filling with confusion.

"No way!! That's so cool!!" You chimmed happily.

He blinked a few times, wondering if he heard you right.

"It's cu-"

"Don't you dare. I'll make your existence a living hell." He warned.

You smirked, taking him by surprise.

"I was going to say... It's curious that you hide it."

"It's not... What they expect of me..."

You felt a slight ping in your heart. Expectations. It must feel heavy on him, having to be the best, and follow a reputation. On the field, it was easy for him, it was his safe space ironically. But here, being a lieutenant, he had a reputation to hold. And the rumors didn't help.

"Who cares what they expect?" You surprised your own self. "Cats are amazing! Amazing hunters and nimble, their vision in the dark is impressive, and their sense of smell is 40 times superior than a normal human being! They also have an amazing sense of distance and topography without even talking about their sense of observation that makes them-"

"Sergeant."

Your mouth hung open. Oh... You spilled. Shit. You looked down.

"Sorry Lieutenant."

He cleared his throat. "It's alright. I'd like to keep it... A secret." He clarified.

"I won't tell a soul sir. I give you my word." You answered solemnly.

He nodded before giving you permission to leave. You didn't ask for anything more as you turned to leave. However, from the corner of his eye, he could see you take a last looks at his tail, a soft happy smile on your lips.

Fuckin hell... This was far from over.

#fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost #this is a very well known prompt #i'm recycling #I freaking love it

[bekkachaos]

Slow dancing with buddie? Pretty pls 💖

1. slow dancing

Maddie and Chim are complete and total dorks.

That's what was running through Buck's mind as they did their very first dance as husband and wife. Choreographed of course, complete with mouthing the words to the song and not being able to take their eyes off one another for a second.

It was beautiful and sweet and unbearably romantic. When the song died down through a sea of applause, it grew softer, slower, and as they wrapped one another up and began to sway, they were joined on the dancefloor by the other couples at their wedding.

The Buckley parents first, along with the Lees. Then there was Bobby and Athena, Karen and Hen, hell, even Ravi had scrounged up a date.

Buck stood from the side of the dancefloor and watched, a smile on his face but a longing in the hollow of his chest.

"They look so happy, don't they?"

He turned to see Eddie walking towards him, the same fond look out to the dancefloor as Buck had worn moments earlier.

"I couldn't have thought up anyone better for her," he said with a smile.

Eddie sidled in next to Buck, their shoulders brushing as they looked back out at the couples filling the dancefloor.

"How did we end up being the only two painfully single people at this wedding?" Buck asked, feeling Eddie's laugh against his arm before he heard the little huff of air that escaped his nose.

"You want me to answer that?" he said, making Buck shrug.

"I guess not," he grinned.

He looked back out at all the couples, the way each of them had almost shut themselves off from everything around them, even his parents. His mother had her head rested on his father's shoulder, the two of them gently swaying as they watched Maddie and Chim. They really were in another world, sparkling eyes and mumbled reminiscence between them.

"No reason we need to be stuck on the sideline," Eddie said, making Buck turn back with a furrow in his brow.

Eddie raised his, giving him an expectant look before holding his hand out in offering. Buck almost felt a blush spread over his cheeks as the smile crossed his lips.

"Why not?"

He slipped his hand into Eddie's. Strange, his hand had been there a number of times before, the job got them into a lot of situations that required a hand up or to steady, this felt somehow different. Eddie's hand was bare, lightly calloused fingers brushing his own scarred knuckles as he led him out onto the dancefloor.

And then there was the way he pulled him in close, so close Buck could feel the heat emanating from his core, and burning into him where his other palm came down to rest softly against his back. Buck fumbled a moment as he tried to work out what to do with his other hand, finally settling it against Eddie's shoulder blade.

This was something new, something they hadn't done before. There was a kind of closeness between them that was odd, and yet somehow familiar, comfortable, like they had danced like this one hundred times over.

Buck found himself relaxing into Eddie's touch, only noticing it when his jaw brushed against Eddie's cheek, retreating with a flinch until he felt Eddie's hand holding him tighter in place.

"Sorry," he said through his teeth, the feeling of Eddie's chest vibrating against his own dripping warmth down into his belly.

"What are you sorry for?" he said, his cheek leaning into him with just a little more pressure than before.

Buck shrugged, wondering if Eddie could feel the way his palm was sweating in his tight grip.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Guess I'm not familiar with the etiquette of slow dancing with your best friend at a wedding."

Eddie's turn to shrug, tilting his lips back to Buck's ear to make it easier to hear over the gentle melody.

"Same as the regular kind," he said. "Don't over complicate it, and keep your hands above the waist at all times."

"You really think I would break that one?" Buck grinned.

"Nah," Eddie said. "You're a gentleman, more so than people give you credit for sometimes."

Their feet shuffled in a lazy circle, you could hardly call it dancing, but it worked for them.

"Yeah, and you're Eddie," he said, making Eddie pull back to look at him, still swaying softly to the music.

"Does that make a difference for you?" he asked, voice lower than before.

"I..." Buck paused, his words suddenly caught in his throat.

Did it?

He'd started to accept lately that anyone else who came into his life needed to be okay who he was, and everything that came with him. He didn't need anyone new questioning the parts of himself that he had built, the parts he had grown to like, he had done enough of that himself.

"I don't know," he said finally, eyes watching the way Eddie's lips pulled up in a soft smile, the way his Adams apple bobbed in his throat like he was swallowing his own forgotten words.

Eddie's arm shifted further around Buck's waist, their hips grazing one another with the new closeness between them. Eddie's hand shifted slightly, the tips of his fingers sitting in the shallow dip of Buck's back, just below the line of his belt.

"Pushing the lines of gentlemanly behaviour there," he teased, aware that his breathing was getting heavier with each passing moment.

"Sometimes you have to cross a few lines," Eddie murmured, eyes watching Buck's features carefully. "So you can stay open to whatever comes next."

Maybe it was in the way Eddie's lips parted only enough to let out his words, or the longing look in his eyes that Buck wondered if he had been missing all along, but suddenly Buck thought that maybe, he didn't need anyone new coming into his life at all.

"Still a few rules you don't break at someone else's wedding though," Eddie said with a smile.

To hell with the rules, Buck found himself wanting to break every last one.

"Well, maybe later you can drop me home, kiss me goodnight," he said, feeling his racing heart at the bottom of his throat. "I feel like that would be breaking a rule or two."

Eddie's eyes glanced downward and for a moment Buck felt his breath hitch and his throat tightened.

"Unless I am totally reading that wrong, I-"

"No," Eddie said quickly, looking back up with deep brown eyes through thick thoughtful lashes. "No, you weren't reading it wrong, at all."

Buck's smile made space for the breath in his chest to release, making him somehow lighter and more full at the same time.

"Okay," he said, so softly that he wasn't sure Eddie had even heard him. But he did.

"Okay," he said back.

For just a moment they became one of those couples on the dancefloor, gazing at one another like the world around them had stopped, like everything had just started to make sense.

Eddie let out a heavy sigh as he leant his cheek against Buck's one more time, closing his eyes as he let the moment sink in, enjoying the warmth from Buck's chest as it pressed into his own, the heaviness in him starting to become lighter in all the places Buck's body met his. Like magic.

Send me a ship and a soft prompt and I'll write you a snippet x

#in honour of the madney engagement #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 #911 spoilers #ask game #thank you ryan 💕

[ghosthunterbuck]

fill my head with you

@911christmasweek day 1: ugly sweaters, pyjamas, or fancy suits

buddie (1.4k) (read it on ao3)

I'm gifting every fic I post this week to one the wonderful people I've met in this fandom! day one is for @wrenchdiaz! happy holidays, and thank you for making the 911 fandom such a lovely place to be!

Evan Buckley hates Christmas Eve. Not Christmas - Christmas is his and Maddie’s. He loves Christmas. Christmas Eve, though, belongs to his parents, and they use it to parade him and Maddie around Pennsylvania’s richest and most irritating. At least this year Doug’s gone. It’s just him and Maddie again, and for that, he’s grateful.

As he surveys the room, Maddie sidles up next to him. She’s beautiful, dressed in a stunning green velvet dress and the sort of delicate gold jewelry that their mom never thinks is enough for this sort of party.

“You ready for this?” Maddie asks softly.

Buck frowns. Ready to be shown off, like he’s an object to display? Or ready to go back to being invisible when it’s all over. He pastes on his trademark, winning smile.

“Aren’t I always?”

Maddie’s eyes go a little sad. “I wish you wouldn’t do that,” she says.

Buck shakes his head. “I don’t know what you mean,” he says, voice deliberately neutral.

“Just… come find me when the party starts, okay?” Maddie says. “I’m going to go make sure catering has everything they need.”

Buck nods and watches her go, suppressing the sigh that threatens to escape his chest.

He’ll be fine. Christmas Eve just… isn’t his thing.

///

Not for the first time, Eddie wonders what the hell he’s doing here. He hands the keys to his truck to the valet, who looks vaguely disappointed not to be driving another Lamborghini.

Chimney lets out a whistle. “How the hell did Hen and Karen swing these tickets?” he wonders.

“And why the hell did they give them to us?” Eddie mutters.

Chim slaps his shoulder. “Lighten up, Diaz. You promised to have fun.”

Eddie did no such thing, but he keeps his mouth shut.

They step through the doors into the ballroom, and Eddie tries to keep his jaw from dropping. The party’s already in full swing, and the best word Eddie can think of to describe it is opulent. The chandeliers hanging from the thirty foot ceilings drip with crystals, outshone only by the sparkling Christmas tree in the center of the room.

“Wow,” Chimney says.

Eddie’s about to agree when he realizes that he’s not looking at the decor. Across the room is a beautiful brunette woman in a green dress, and Chimney’s clearly enamoured. Eddie smiles.

“Go talk to her,” he says, nudging him with his elbow.

Chimney frowns doubtfully at him. “Are you going to be okay on your own?”

Eddie shakes his head and laughs. “I’ll be fine. Go!”

Chim smiles brightly and hightails it across the room. And okay, sure, Eddie doesn’t actually want to be on his own at this fancy party, but Chimney deserves to meet someone. He’s spent more than enough time getting over Tatiana.

He waits long enough to watch the conversation begin to flow between Chimney and the mystery woman, then heads to the bar. He’s out of his depth, sure, but a bar’s a bar.

Eddie fiddles with his cufflinks as he waits for the bartender. They’re silver, and he rarely wears them, but for this occasion he figures they’re warranted. They were a gift from Shannon, the day Christopher was born, embossed with the image of the saint that shares his name.

It makes him want to be home, but he did promise Hen he’d at least stay an hour, and Christopher is asleep anyway, so he resolves to ignore the feeling as best as he can.

He finally catches the bartender’s attention and hesitates only a second before ordering their top shelf scotch, neat. Usually Eddie’s more of a beer kind of guy, but hell, if they’re serving Macallan 18 for free, he’s not going to turn it down.

“Good taste,” a man with a low gravelly voice says, stepping up next to Eddie at the bar.

Eddie casts an appraising glance in his direction and has to stop himself from doing a double take. The man beside him is stunning. He’s dressed in a maroon velvet coat that beautifully offsets the blue of his eyes.

“Good selection,” Eddie replies, tipping his glass towards the man.

He’s rewarded with a warm chuckle and a half smile that Eddie has a hard time tearing his gaze away from.

///

“He is so cute!” Maddie exclaims, tugging on Buck’s arm.

He follows her gaze, only to find himself looking at the most attractive man he’s ever seen. He has dark hair with even darker eyes that shine under the sparkling lights. He wears a sinfully tailored midnight blue jacket that Buck can just imagine pulling from his shoulders.

Cute isn’t the word he’d use. “Wow,” he says breathlessly.

“He’s coming over here!” Maddie says, slapping his shoulder excitedly.

Buck frowns. “He’s not-”

Maddie bites her lip and smiles softly. She’s not, Buck realizes, looking at the man he’d noticed, but rather at his similarly handsome companion who is, indeed, making his way through the crowd towards them.

“I love you, but go somewhere else, please,” Maddie says, not looking away from the man.

Buck chuckles good-naturedly. “Have fun,” he says, allowing himself to be pulled away in the currents of the crowd.

He notices, not much later, that the man in the blue jacket is now at the bar, alone. And, well, that simply won’t do.

///

The man is charming and attractive, and Eddie isn’t here to hook up, but he can’t help the way he’s drawn to the man like a planet orbiting a star.

He introduces himself as Buck, and before Eddie can return the favor launches into the cheesiest pick up line Eddie’s ever heard. It makes Eddie laugh, and when he does Buck’s expression erupts into a breathtaking smile.

It’s the kind of smile that Eddie thinks could be very dangerous.

He wants to kiss it off Buck’s face.

It gets worse though, because he’s not just funny, he’s kind and he’s smart, and when Eddie mentions Christopher he grins and tells him shyly that he loves kids.

So when Buck offers his hand and suggests that they dance, Eddie has no problem following him out of the ballroom. There’s more than one way to tango, and Eddie figures he’s had just enough liquid courage to try something new.

///

Buck pulls the handsome stranger into the hall behind the ballroom and slips his hands beneath that stunning blue jacket, just like he’s wanted to since the minute he saw it. Maybe, he thinks, sliding his fingers along the man’s waist, Christmas Eve isn’t so bad after all. He pulls the man flush against him, nosing at his jaw, and presses a kiss against his fluttering pulse point.

The man twines his fingers in Buck’s hair and tugs lightly, drawing a harsh gasp from Buck’s chest.

“You- you want to take this somewhere a little more private,” Buck pants.

“Yes,” the man says hungrily. Buck should really get his name at some point.

He pulls him farther into the manor, allowing his hands to roam as they go. Buck wants to touch this man everywhere. Thankfully, he seems amenable.

Buck sheds his jacket as they tumble into his bedroom, wrapping his fingers in the man’s lapels.

“Want this off,” Buck says, nipping at the bolt of the man’s jaw.

He shrugs his shoulders back, and the jacket hits the floor with a clink.

The man lifts his hand to cradle Buck’s jaw, impossibly gentle, and looks him in the eye.

“I’d like to kiss you now,” he says.

And well, who’s Buck to argue with that.

///

Eddie lips are a hairsbreadth from Buck’s when his phone rings. It’s on Do Not Disturb for everyone except Pepa, his abuela and his captain, none of whom would call him if it wasn’t an emergency.

“I’m sorry,” he says, stepping back and pulling the phone from his pocket. “Abuela?” he answers.

“Eddito, I’m sorry to call, but Christopher-”

“What happened? Is he okay?” Eddie cuts her off.

“He had a nightmare, and he’s asking for you.”

“I’m on my way, okay? I’ll be home in fifteen minutes.”

He hangs up the phone and turns back to Buck, who’s already holding out his jacket. “I really am sorry,” Eddie says regretfully. “But I have to go.”

Buck smiles sadly. “It’s okay,” he says. “Drive safe. I hope everything’s okay.”

///

The man practically flees the party, and it’s only when he’s gone that Buck realizes he has no name, no phone number, no way to find him again. That tracks, he thinks.

It’s stupid, to have gotten so invested, so fast. Buck doesn’t even know the man’s name. Something about him, though, felt different. Like maybe he and Buck were meant to find each other. Like fate, or the universe, maybe.

Obviously he was wrong, though, because the man is gone and Buck’s standing alone with no jacket and a rumpled tie.

He goes back to the party.

Yeah, Christmas Eve sucks.

///

Eddie dreams of blue eyes and strong hands and wakes on Christmas morning thinking of Buck. Buck and his cheesy pick up lines, Buck and his charming smile, Buck and that nervous way he ducks his head and looks up through his eyelashes, Buck.

It’s ridiculous. He doesn’t know the man. He doesn’t know where he’s from, what he does for a living - hell, he doesn’t even know his last name.

He finds himself wishing he knew more. To start, Buck’s phone number. Also, though, everything about him, from the way he takes his coffee to the make up of his dreams.

He pushes it all down, though, because it’s Christmas and he’s got a kid to make happy and a party to attend at Hen’s in the afternoon. He hears Christopher shuffling in the next room and smiles.

“Dad! It’s Christmas!”

///

Buck wakes with a massive hangover, and without a blanket. He shivers and reaches blindly for his comforter, but it must be on the floor because his bed is bare. Buck groans and pulls himself out of bed, cursing when he steps on something sharp.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, blearily blinking his eyes open.

His comforter is, inexplicably, on the other side of the room. On the ground is a small silver object, entirely unfamiliar. Buck picks it up and realizes it’s a cufflink, though not one of his. He frowns and places it on his bedside table, then gets out of bed and grabs his comforter off the floor.

Buck’s gaze falls to the cufflink again, and he wonders where it came from. He’s just about to crawl back in bed when it hits him.

His mystery man.

Buck has to find him.

He grabs the cufflink and stumbles into the hallway, practically running to Maddie’s room.

“You have to help me,” he says, barrelling through the door.

“Knock-knock, come in! Merry Christmas, Maddie. Merry Christmas to you, too, Buck,” Maddie says, grinning despite herself.

Buck rolls his eyes and smiles. “Merry Christmas, Maddie, you have to help me.”

Maddie pats the bed next to her, and Buck sits. “What’s wrong?” she asks.

“Not wrong, exactly,” Buck replies. He tells her about the man, leaving out a few of the more risque details, and shows her the cufflink. “I have to return it,” he says.

Maddie’s eyes sparkle. “Are you sure that’s all you want?”

Buck blushes. “He didn’t even tell me his name, Mads. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to see me again. I still need to give it back, though. It’s my fault he lost it.”

Maddie smiles a little sadly and pats him on the knee. “Come on, I’ve got the guest list somewhere. We’ll find him.”

They’re lucky, in a way. The party was a charity event, so they’ve got addresses for everyone who’d purchased a ticket. They mark out every person they’re sure isn’t Buck’s mystery man, and it leaves them with a list of twenty-six families.

Buck scans the list. None of the last names scream his mystery man, but who knows. He could be a McKinney, or a Fitzpatrick.

“Go get dressed,” Maddie orders, pushing him out of her bed. “Let’s find your man.”

///

Eddie’s distracted, and he knows the others have noticed. He’s surrounded by his family, of both blood and choice, but his mind is a million miles away. Or, more accurately, about fifteen miles away, at a makeshift bar in an opulent ballroom.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Hen asks him, settling beside him on the couch.

Eddie watches Christopher, Denny and Harry as they play a game called- concerningly- Exploding Kittens on the floor. “I met someone last night,” he says softly.

“That’s a good thing, right?”

Eddie shakes his head. “Maybe? I don’t know. I haven’t really dated since Shannon, except for Ana, and we both know how that ended. Besides, I had to leave in a rush. I didn’t even get his number.”

“It’s a good thing,” Hen says decisively, patting him on the knee. “Even if it doesn’t go anywhere, you put yourself out there. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Eddie sighs. “I just wish…”

“What?” Hen prompts.

“I wish I could see him again.”

“You got his name, right? Maybe we could contact the organizers and they could pass along a message.”

“Maybe,” Eddie says. He looks down. In the moment, everything with Buck had felt magical. Now, though… maybe it’s for the best. He’s not built for romance or relationships. If he doesn’t find Buck, he won’t taint the memory. The idea of never seeing him again, though - the ache of that surprises him, intense in a way that longing shouldn’t be after a single night with someone.

The doorbell rings and Hen stands. “Just think about it,” she says kindly.

A few seconds later, she opens the door and Eddie hears a familiar voice.

“-not going to be here, Maddie, it’s the last house. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Buck,” Eddie breathes, standing. He drifts towards the door without meaning to, pulled as if by a magnet.

“Hi,” a woman says. “My name’s Maddie, and this is my brother, Evan.”

“Buck,” Buck interjects.

“We’re looking for someone Buck met last night at our parents’ holiday gala? He lost a cufflink, and Buck wants to return it.”

Eddie’s brow furrows. He hadn’t even noticed the cufflink missing, but if Buck’s here… Eddie steps into the front hall.

Buck’s eyes find his immediately. His mouth drops open and his lips curl into a small smile. “Hi,” he says softly.

“Hi,” Eddie replies.

Distantly, Eddie notices Hen lead Maddie further inside, leaving him and Buck, nothing but the door’s threshold between them.

“Hi,” Buck says again.

Eddie laughs, a soft, light noise that he probably hasn’t made since before Shannon died. “You already said that,” Eddie points out.

Buck blushes a pretty pink, then sticks out his hand. “You, uh, you lost this,” he says.

Eddie takes the cufflink and tucks it in his pocket. “Thanks,” he says, ducking his head. “Do you want to come in?” he asks.

Buck bites his lip and shakes his head. “I don’t want to bother you,” he says, looking away.

Eddie realizes suddenly that, for all his bravado last night, Buck is nervous, too. Eddie reaches out and wraps his fingers around Buck’s wrist. “Please come in?” He asks, catching Buck’s gaze and holding it.

Buck smiles that brilliant grin of his, and Eddie knows he’s done the right thing. “Yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Eddie confirms. “One thing first, though?”

Buck looks nervous all over again. “What?”

“I still owe you a kiss.”

The corners of Buck’s lips tick up. “Well, we can’t have that,” he says, stepping across the threshold.

Eddie fits his free hand against Buck’s waist and pulls him close, shivering when Buck’s arms come to rest on his shoulders. He leans in slowly, giving Buck every chance back away. Buck closes the distance, and when their lips finally meet, it feels like the beginning of something. A forever kind of kiss.

And maybe it’s too early to say, but as Eddie pulls the door shut behind Buck and leads him to the rest of his family, he’s pretty sure that they’re going to live happily ever after.

The End.

#I hope you like it KJ! #911christmasweek #911fic #911 fic #911 #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie fic #fic #Abbie writes #9-1-1 #911 fox #user ceecee

[junghelioseok]

clandestine. | 05

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 7.6k [5/6]

notes: second to last installment of a fic that didn’t need to be as long as it is!!! really this entire thing can be summed up with last chapter’s warning, which was “reader is dumb and jungkook is slutty.” i stand by it, okay!!! 🤷🏻‍♀️

warnings: dumb banter, a couple brief smutty bits, oral (f receiving), listen to slow dancing in the dark by joji during the soft smut scene in the middle if u want 

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 

“No. No. God, no. Has your music taste always been this bad, or is this a recent development?”

“You will excuse yourself,” you retort sharply, wagging a finger at your brother. “Mr. Brightside is a classic and I will not hear this slander. Please feel free to permanently vacate the premises if you disagree.”

Jimin rolls his eyes from where he’s slouched on the couch beside you, one hand submerged in a bag of chips and his bare feet kicked up on the coffee table. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I’m dramatic? Really? You wanna go there, Chim?” You raise your hand and begin ticking off on your fingers. “I’m not the one who threw a fit over a piece of cilantro in my taco. I’m not the one who refused to bathe when Mom couldn’t find the right bubble bath.”

“Oh my god, I was eight,” Jimin snorts. “Both times. And cilantro tastes like soap.”

You raise a third finger. “What about the time you hid all the Monopoly money because you kept losing? Or when yo—”

A knock on the door cuts you off mid-sentence, and you nudge Jimin’s shin with your big toe. “Go get the door,” you order, and you aren’t sure if he’s just tired of hearing your voice, but he stands up without complaint and wanders into the entryway to receive your unexpected guest.

“Hey,” you hear him say. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” a very familiar voice replies. “I need some help.”

It’s Jungkook. Of course it’s Jungkook. You haven’t seen him since he dropped you off and kissed you senseless in your driveway, but you’d have to be delusional to think that you could avoid him for the next week and a half before you leave to return to Seoul. And yet, you allowed yourself to indulge in your delusions for two full days, before he tears them apart with ten simple, innocent words.

“So, I think I might have done the laundry wrong.”

Jimin laughs out loud, covering his mouth with his hand. “That’s all you, Noona,” he says, glancing over his shoulder at you, and you don’t even have wherewithal to lecture him about the sexism of his remark because Jungkook is smirking like he’s just won the lottery and you’re his grand prize.

“Noona?” he begins, his voice syrupy sweet and thick with intent. “Can you come help me?”

You glance down at your pajamas—gray sweatpants and a pink Pusheen t-shirt that’s a couple sizes too big. It’s beyond obvious that you have no plans for the day, and therefore no excuse not to help. Heaving a resigned sigh, you clamber to your feet and roll your eyes when Jimin immediately flops down across the newly abandoned couch and lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Have fun,” he calls lazily as you walk out, and you do your best to ignore the wicked grin that flashes across Jungkook’s face.

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it fun,” he says as he lets you pass by him to exit the house. “See you later, Jimin.”

As soon as the front door slams shut, you round on him with a glare. “Are you serious, Jungkook?” you hiss. “He’s totally going to catch on to… to whatever it is we’re doing.”

“You’re being paranoid,” Jungkook chides, clicking his tongue. He hops over the low bushes that divide your property, and waits patiently as you skirt around them. You follow him into his house—down the hallway and into a little side room that houses the washing machine and dryer—and as soon as the door swings shut, he’s grabbing you by the hips and pulling you close.

“This—this isn’t how you do laundry,” you stammer weakly, winded by his sudden proximity and the dark promise in his eyes. “What the hell are you doing?”

Jungkook chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. “I may have lied a little bit. Would you have come if I hadn’t?”

You don’t answer, because you know he’s right. If you had your way, you would have avoided him until it was time for you to leave again. But Jungkook just doesn’t seem to be willing to let that happen, as he tightens his grip on your hips and tugs until you’re flush against him.

“See, the truth of the matter is, I’m actually good at laundry.” He smirks and tilts his head, dark bangs flopping across his forehead. “I’m good at other things, too. Why don’t you let me show you?”

Attraction blooms in your belly, hot as molten lava, and it takes the last ounce of your wavering restraint to say what you say next. “We can’t take too long,” you whisper, letting him hoist you up onto the dryer and jab the start button. The machine rumbles to life beneath you, and you nearly lose your train of thought when the vibrations go straight to your clit. “Jimin!” you gasp. “Jimin—he’ll kill you if he finds out. He’ll fillet your dick with a dull knife and serve it over rice.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “Why are you talking about your brother? Is this your idea of dirty talk, princess? Because I gotta tell you—it’s not doing it for me.”

“Jungkook!” you chide, and he grins and moves to tug off your shirt.

“That’s much better.”

///

In the days that follow your laundry room tryst with Jungkook, sneaking around becomes routine. Both of your parents work—as do his—so avoiding them is easy. Jimin, however, is a different story. The dance classes he teaches are irregular, and the schedule shifts often enough that you’ve come dangerously close to getting caught on more than one occasion.

And it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook has taken to texting you at all hours of the day, even when you’re eating a sandwich on the couch with Jimin half-sprawled across your lap in his effort to invade your personal space as much as possible.

[12:35pm] Jungkook: hey i just thought of something

[12:35pm] Jungkook: you know how i call you princess?

You nearly throw your phone across the room. Cautiously, you glance at your brother, who is glued to the television and doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss.

[12:36pm] You: yeah…

His response is instantaneous.

[12:36pm] Jungkook: well i’ve got a throne for you to sit on

You almost sigh out loud. Please don’t, you write back, and you practically hear Jungkook’s cackle in your head as the ellipses that indicate he’s typing pop up at the bottom of your screen.

[12:37pm] Jungkook: it’s my dick ;)

[12:37pm] Jungkook: get it?

I fucking hate you, you tell him, thumbs flying across the keyboard.

[12:38pm] Jungkook: and i love fucking you

[12:38pm] Jungkook: princess ;)

///

After nearly a week cooped up at your parents’ house, you’re getting restless. Without a car, you’re confined to the suburban neighborhood you grew up in, and the revelation that you’re bored somehow spills out to Jungkook during one of the many heated makeout sessions you’ve started having in the backseat of his sedan.

“Do you want to go somewhere?” he’d asked, tilting his head curiously, mussed hair falling across his eyes. “I can drive you, if you want.”

And that’s how you find yourself wandering around downtown Busan on a beautiful Tuesday afternoon. Jungkook drops you off at the curb after cumming down your throat, and now that he’s dashed off to work the lunch shift at the restaurant, you’re free to explore all of your old haunts. The shopping center that you and your friends used to frequent is right around the corner, so that’s where you decide to start. After all, you’re still in need of some professional attire, and as much as you love your mom, you’d rather avoid the unflattering dresses and itchy pantyhose she would be sure to seek out.

As soon as you step through the glass revolving doors, you find yourself in a familiar air-conditioned paradise of shops and restaurants. Stopping at your favorite coffee spot, you treat yourself to an iced mocha before heading to the first store.

Two hours and three full bags later, you decide to head to the food court for a quick snack. You’d promised Jungkook that you’d meet him at the restaurant once you were finished, but a glance at your phone tells you that you have more than enough time to stop by Kim’s Kitchen. Mrs. Kim makes the best cookies in the entire city, as far as you’re concerned, and you decide to order a dozen to take home and share with your family.

You’re lowering yourself into a seat at one of the many tables scattered around the tree-lined atrium when you spot a familiar head of strawberry blonde hair. The owner spots you a split second later, and you return her smile as she immediately swerves and heads your way. “{Name}, hey!”

“Hey, Chaeyoung,” you greet, gesturing for her to take the chair on the other side of the table. “What are you doing here?”

“Same thing as you, from the looks of it.” She grins and hefts her shopping bag. “I swear I’ve been to every shoe store and still haven’t found what I’m looking for, but somehow I’ve bought this much crap anyway. What about you? What are you on the hunt for?”

“Professional attire,” you say with a grimace. “Why are pants so hard to find? I swear, they’re all either too long or too short, and never fit properly in the waist and thighs.”

Chaeyoung pulls a face. “Ew, I know. Pantsuits are a nightmare unless you have a tailor. And who has money for that?”

You laugh, nodding in agreement. “So what are you up to now? Mrs. Kim has cookies fresh out of the oven, if you’re interested. Cinnamon rolls too, I think.”

“Ooh, that’s tough,” she says thoughtfully, tapping her chin. “Would it be bad if I got both?”

“Not even a little bit,” you assure, reaching into your box and pulling out a cookie. “But here, I’ll make it easier for you. Hope you like chocolate chip.”

Chaeyoung gratefully accepts the cookie you hand over. “Who doesn’t love chocolate chip?” she asks, taking a bite.

“Criminals and heathens,” you reply, snagging a cookie for yourself. “Among others.”

She tilts her head. “Doesn’t Jimin hate chocolate chip?”

“My point exactly.”

Chaeyoung giggles, hiding it behind a manicured hand, and you laugh right along with her. Together, you decide to grab some smoothies, and when you sit back down, the conversation turns to your trip up to the lake house. “Next time, we’ll have to do a girl’s trip,” Chaeyoung says, propping her chin in her palm. “Feels like it’s been ages since we’ve done one. You must’ve been exhausted with all those boys around.”

Unwillingly, your thoughts turn to Jungkook. “It wasn’t that bad,” you say slowly. “It was actually nice, being able to spend some time with them.”

“Who ended up going, anyway? Your brother, obviously. Taehyung? Yugyeom?”

You nod, raising a hand and ticking them off on your fingers. “Jimin, yeah. Taehyung, Yugyeom, Taemin, Minho. And Jungkook.”

If Chaeyoung notices the way you pause before saying the last name, she doesn’t comment on it. Her expression grows pensive, and you can practically see the gears turning in her head as she considers her next sentence. “You must be seeing a lot of him,” she says at last. “Jungkook, I mean.”

You take a massive sip of your smoothie and wonder if you’re imagining the lingering taste of him on your tongue. “Yeah, a bit,” you manage, your voice surprisingly steady. “He games with Jimin a lot.” After a pause, you decide to tell her the truth. “He dropped me off today, actually. Jimin’s working this summer, and I’ve been stuck at home, so he offered to take me downtown on his way to work.”

Chaeyoung hums thoughtfully. “He’s working at a restaurant or something, right?”

“Just a few streets away, yeah.”

Slowly, she nods. “We went out, you know.” Her voice is distant. “Just for a few weeks. He ended it after… well, after we slept together.”

There’s a pause, as Chaeyoung lets you digest this information, and a part of you wants to spill everything to her right then and there. Jisoo told me, you want to say, as acidic guilt begins to bubble up in your belly, every memory of the moments you’ve since shared with Jungkook rising unpleasantly in your throat. I’m sorry. I’m so,so sorry. You say it over and over again in your head, but the apology gets stuck in your throat when you try to voice it aloud.

Chaeyoung takes a sip of her smoothie and leans back in her chair with a sigh, oblivious to your internal struggle. “Maybe I should have seen it coming,” she says, gnawing on the end of the straw. “Everything changed our senior year, you know? It was like a switch had flipped—he started dating around, relationships that never lasted more than a week… I really should have known better when he asked me out. But I guess I thought I was different. We were already friends, after all. But whenever we were together, just the two of us, he was always… distant. Like he was somewhere else, mentally.”

Her words trail off, leaving only silence that you don’t know how to break. Chaeyoung sips at her smoothie again, before huffing out a laugh and waving a manicured hand in your direction. “God, sorry! I can’t believe I just started monologuing, ew. Jungkook this, Jungkook that—god. I’m not even mad at him anymore, you know? I just want him to figure his shit out.” Her eyes flit up to you briefly, before skittering back down to where a cookie crumb has landed on the tabletop. “It’s funny, though. Seeing him at Taehyung’s graduation party was probably the happiest I’ve seen him in a long time. He almost seemed like himself again.”

You can’t help it—the singular word bubbles up before you can stop it. “Really?”

Chaeyoung nods, her gaze flickering up to meet yours again. “Really. And honestly? I think it was because of you.”

Your heart does a series of backflips in your chest, thudding against the slats of your ribs. You try to respond, try to find the words, but they stick in your dry throat and your smoothie is practically gone at this point. Chaeyoung shrugs, unfazed by your silence, and you watch as she swirls her straw around in the remainder of her own drink. “I don’t know—maybe I’m imagining things. But it always seemed like he had a bit of a thing for you. Didn’t he used to follow you around the playground?”

The memory draws a startled laugh from your lips. “Sure, yeah. But that was in elementary school.”

Chaeyoung shrugs, smiling around her straw. “Still. We never really forget our first crush, do we?”

///

You head over to the restaurant after bidding Chaeyoung goodbye, her words weighing heavy on your mind and your heart. Through the tall glass windows, you can just barely make out Jungkook—looking sharp in a black collared shirt and matching slacks as he greets a table of diners. His smile is warm and his stance is confident, and you’re reminded of just how much he’s grown from that gangly kid you knew back in grade school when you catch the edge of flirtation lingering in his gaze.

The boy who used to follow you around the playground is gone. There’s no doubt in your mind about that. And so, you take a deep breath and walk into the restaurant, doing your best to smile at the host who greets you and asks whether you’d like to sit at a table or the bar.

“Hey, you made it!”

Jungkook strides over with a grin, taking the menu off the host’s hands and leading you over to an empty seat at the bar. “It’s full service, so you can order food here, too,” he explains. “You hungry? Thirsty?”

You glance down at the menu he places on the counter, scanning the lines of text. “Not really, but it smells really good so I might get something to go. And this carbonara sounds really good, actually.”

“It is,” Jungkook confirms. “I’ll go put the order in. You want some water or anything to drink?”

“Water’s good,” you tell him, and he nods before trotting off to do his job. You watch him disappear to the back of the restaurant before reappearing with a tray of glasses, and follow his meandering path through the tables as he disperses drinks and checks on the guests. Somehow, his shoulders manage to look even broader in his black shirt, and you can’t ignore the way they taper into a narrow waist that’s only emphasized by the belt threaded through the loops of his dark slacks.

He’s stopping at the table you first saw him at now, leaning in close when one of the women seated there asks him a question about something on the menu. His smile oozes easy charm, and you can’t help the feeling that flares in your chest when she reaches for the menu and purposely lets her fingertips graze his hand. Frowning, you tear your gaze away and focus on the wood grain of the bar counter. Your eyes zero in on a smattering of water droplets near your left arm, and you’re just about to run a fingertip through them when a voice sounds to your right.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

Surprised, you look up and find yourself face-to-face with a man who appears to be in his early thirties. Dark hair is brushed away from his forehead, a stray lock falling into his eyes, and you find yourself momentarily at a loss for words when your brain registers just how handsome he is.

“I—uh. I think Jungkook is going to grab me some water,” you finally manage, wanting nothing more than to melt into the ground when you hear the stammer in your voice.

“Ah, you know Jungkook?” The man laughs—a sound that is distinctly reminiscent of a squeaky windshield wiper. “He’s been pretty busy today, so why don’t I grab you that water instead?”

You nod, watching as he fills up a glass from the nozzle below the bar, accepting it when he hands it over. “Thanks.”

“Name’s Seokjin,” the man replies with an easy grin. “What’s yours?”

You return his smile and tell him your name. “Seokjin—Jungkook’s mentioned you a few times, I think. This is your place then, isn’t it?”

Seokjin beams. “Yep! Opened just a few months ago, after we finally sorted out the rat infestation and the asbestos problem in the rafters, and—” He pauses at the dumbfounded look on your face, and several beats pass before another peal of squeaky laughter escapes him. “I’m kidding. One-hundred percent. I promise the whole place is up to snuff.”

“So, I see you’ve met Seokjin.” Jungkook materializes at your side with a glass of water, which he takes a sip out of upon realizing that you already have a drink. “Is he making jokes about the health code again?”

“I would never,” Seokjin sniffs, and you laugh, finding yourself completely at ease for the first time since you entered the restaurant.

Jungkook rolls his eyes good-naturedly and turns his attention back to you. “Your carbonara should be out in a few,” he says, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the kitchen. “Are you sure you don’t want anything else?”

“Positive,” you assure him. “I’m full of chocolate chip cookies, anyway. Here, you want one? They’re still a little warm.”

Jungkook eyes the box you pull out of your bag hungrily. “Hell yes. I can smell them from here.” Laughing, you push the box toward him and watch as he pulls a cookie out and takes an enormous bite. “Thanks,” he says in between chews, his cheeks puffy. You can’t help but smile when he takes a sip of water to wash it all down, his eyes growing round.

Turning to Seokjin, you offer him a cookie as well, which he declines with a graceful wave. “I should be feeding you, not the other way around,” he remarks. “You got the carbonara, right? I’ll go see if it’s ready.”

With one last glance at the patrons sitting at the bar, Seokjin departs with a promise to be back in five minutes. Jungkook finishes off his cookie, and you’re considering offering him another when a familiar chirpy voice sounds from your left.

“Wow, it smells amazing in here! What do you think—should we sit at the bar?”

You whirl in the direction of the voice, your eyes immediately landing on a group of three girls standing near the entrance. Two of them you don’t recognize, but the third you’ve seen before. Mina, you’re pretty sure her name was, and you’d recognize her anywhere. The last time you’d seen her was at the restaurant on the night of Jimin’s and Jungkook’s graduation, and your face heats at the memory of everything else that transpired that night.

“Welcome!” Jungkook draws you out of your thoughts, and you turn to see that he’s wearing a bright, welcoming smile. “Were you looking to sit at the bar, or at a table? It looks like there are a few empty spots at the end of the bar, if you ladies would prefer that. Otherwise, I can take you to a table.”

Mina’s face lights up in recognition, and you’re forced to hide your scowl in your water glass. “Hey, we’ve met before, haven’t we?”

“You work at that place a few blocks down, right?” Jungkook jabs a thumb in the general direction of the street. “I’ve seen you around.”

She giggles and tucks a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “That’s right, yeah! I remember you now. Graduation, right? You were my best table of the night.”

Jungkook chuckles. “I bet you tell everyone that.”

“Not a chance,” Mina answers, looking him up and down before a coy smile curves her lips again. “I only say what I mean.”

“Honesty is the best policy,” Jungkook says agreeably. Then he turns to you, distractedly fiddling with his apron as he speaks. “Jin should probably be back with your food soon. Are you okay to sit here by yourself for a bit?”

You can only nod, still staring down into your water glass. “Yeah, sure. Go on, then.”

He smiles and gestures for Mina and the girls to follow after him, and you’re positive you don’t imagine the triumphant look that flashes across Mina’s face before she departs. Frowning, you grab a cookie from your box and break a piece off, grateful for the distraction. Seokjin drops off your carbonara a minute later, and you find yourself suddenly ravenous as you dig into the steaming bowl of spaghetti.

Jungkook returns to your side about five minutes later, raking a hand through his hair as he replaces his notebook back in his apron pocket. “Man, I’m beat,” he remarks. “Thank god Mina and her friends didn’t order anything complicated. My brain would’ve exploded.”

“Thank god for that,” you echo dully. Unwillingly, your gaze drifts over to where Mina is now sitting, chatting happily with her friends. “It’s weird, isn’t it? Seeing Mina here, of all places. I mean, what is she even doing here?”

“I don’t know how to tell you this, but most people go out and have fun on their days off,” Jungkook responds dryly, a grin breaking across his face when you roll your eyes at him. “Or wait… could it be that you’re jealous?”

You scowl. “Don’t be stupid.”

Jungkook just laughs, tilting your chin up with two fingers so he can look you in the eye. “It’s okay,” he says, his thumb brushing softly along the corner of your lips. “You’re cute when you’re jealous, princess.”

You don’t know how to respond to that, and thankfully you don’t have to. Seokjin returns with a takeout container for you to put your leftovers in, shrugging off your gratitude when you offer it.

“I’m discounting your food, too,” he says, leaving zero room for argument. “Any friend of Jeon’s is a friend of mine.”

Jungkook’s shift ends half an hour later. He turns on his roadtrip playlist on the drive home, and you are more than happy to let the music wash over you, eliminating any need for conversation and drowning out your thoughts.

“See you later, princess,” he says once he’s pulled into your driveway, following your every move as you climb out of the passenger seat.

It sounds like a promise coming from his lips, and you can only nod. “See you.”

///

You’re in the middle of buttering a piece of toast for breakfast the next morning when there’s a knock on the front door. Perturbed, you walk over to answer it, wondering if perhaps Jimin has forgotten his keys again, but when you peer through the peephole it isn’t Jimin who stares back at you.

“Jungkook—” you begin, swinging open the door, but he cuts you off before you can finish, taking your face in his hands and pressing his mouth to yours.

“Hey,” he whispers once he’s had his fill, pulling back just enough to mumble the greeting against your lips. “They’re all gone for the day, right?”

“Yes,” you confirm, still reeling from the suddenness of his appearance and the subsequent kiss. “But how did you—?”

“Jimin told me,” Jungkook answers shortly, before pulling you close and kissing you again. This time, you let yourself get lost in the feeling of his mouth against yours, following his lead as he ushers you back upstairs and breaking the kiss only once in the process. He lays you down onto your bed, the mattress dipping under your combined weight, and you sigh when he moves down to nip at your neck.

“No marks, Jungkook,” you remind him breathily. “You can’t leave marks.”

A low whine escapes him. “Can’t you wear a scarf?”

“It’s the middle of summer!” you huff in amusement, smacking his arm when he whines again and stubbornly sucks at the soft spot where your neck meets your shoulder.

Jungkook’s breath is hot against your skin. His fingers find the elastic waistband of your sweatpants, tugging them off your hips and down your legs, and you kick them off as soon as they’ve reached your ankles. Hungrily, his gaze traverses the newly revealed skin, and you shiver when he gently trails his fingertips up your calves and all the way to the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. “Jungkook,” you sigh. “I haven’t shaved in days.”

“Ask me if I care,” he replies hoarsely, leaning down to press the flat of his tongue against the growing damp spot seeping through the cotton of your underwear. It’s far from your sexiest pair—you’d categorize them as granny panties, in all honesty—but Jungkook doesn’t seem the least bit fazed as he hooks them aside and licks a broad stripe all the way up to your clit. “Want you,” he groans, and the vibrations from his voice send a volt of tingling electricity straight up your spine. “Want you in every way I can have you.”

You don’t respond. You don’t have to, because Jungkook is diving in with the enthusiasm of a man starved, tossing your underwear aside carelessly before banding his arms around your legs to hold you open. His face disappears between your thighs until only the top of his hair is visible, the dark strands mussed. Lips parting in a moan, your fingers find their way to his head, tangling at his roots, and Jungkook parts from your cunt briefly to groan his approval. Then he’s eating you out again—alternating between broad licks and teasing flicks to your clit before his tongue delves into your entrance, inhaling deeply as if he just can’t get enough.

The sun rises higher into the sky, beaming through your window and illuminating Jungkook’s head and shoulders in warm, hazy gold. You chant his name as you reach your high, spurred on by his teasing tongue and whispered words of encouragement, and the grin he wears when he straightens back up is near blinding. Slowly, he peels off his shirt and shucks off his jeans until he’s completely bare before you, the sun painting him in warm strokes of color. Deliberately, he crawls up your body, hiking up the hem of your shirt as he does. He plants kisses into your newly bared skin, and when he reaches your lips he settles there as if that’s where he’s meant to be.

Jungkook kisses you slowly. He kisses you deliberately—sensually—and you melt into his gentle touch, relishing in the feel of his bare body pressed so intimately against yours. You don’t miss the way his cock hardens against your thigh, but Jungkook seems to be in no hurry to do anything about it. Instead, he cups your cheeks and licks into your mouth, and you’re all too willing to part beneath him like a flower in bloom.

The rest of the afternoon passes like this—hot kisses and slow fucking, the two of you meshing until you’re no longer sure where you end and he begins. You keep an eye on the time, though, and by the time your parents and Jimin return home, you and Jungkook are showered and dry, sitting on the living room floor embroiled in a Mario Kart tournament.

“No fair! You played without me?” Jimin whines, plopping down between you and trying to wrest the controller away from Jungkook. “C’mon, let me have a turn. You’ve been at it all day!”

Jungkook’s gaze flickers up past Jimin’s shoulder to meet yours, his lips twitching in barely suppressed mirth. “Yeah. We sure were.”

///

“God, I’m going to be sore for the next month.”

“Don’t be such a drama queen,” your brother snorts, squeezing your cheek between his thumb and index finger like you’re a small child. His three o’clock dance class has just wrapped up, and people are slowly filtering out of the studio. A few of the younger women glance back toward where you’re standing with Jimin, and you have no doubt they’re vying for one last look at your brother in his tight-fitting joggers and loose tank that keeps drooping off one shoulder. Rolling your eyes, you suppress the urge to loudly bring up the time he walked into a sliding glass door and nearly chipped his tooth. Instead, you pinch his cheek back, and laugh when he pouts.

“Ow, hey! What happened to giving me all your love and support?”

“Please, Mom made me come to your class,” you retort, batting his invasive hand away. “I think she just wanted me out of the house.”

Jimin laughs. “Can’t blame her. You’re a goddamn freeloader.”

“Seriously? Because in that case, I’m dying to hear what that makes you.”

Thoroughly nonplussed, Jimin pinches your other cheek before dancing away on light feet. “I’m an angel. Now go away, so I can get ready for my next class!”

Rolling your eyes again, you heft your bag over your shoulder and turn on your heel. “Fine, fine. Good luck, and all that. See you at dinner.”

Jimin doesn’t respond, and when you peer over your shoulder at him, he’s already sprawled on the floor and reaching for his toes in the unmistakable first step of his warm-up routine. He waves when he sees you watching, and you stick your tongue out at him playfully before exiting the studio and heading for the door. You’ve borrowed your dad’s car for the day, and hum cheerily as you climb into the driver’s seat.

You spend the rest of the afternoon running errands—stopping by both the post office and the bank before heading for the grocery store to pick up some ingredients for dinner. By the time you get back home, Jimin has finished teaching at the studio as well, and you fix him with a stare as you plop two full bags of groceries in front of him on the kitchen counter.

“Care to help me carry the rest in?”

“Not really,” he replies, but he stands up and follows you outside to the car nonetheless.

Once all the groceries are inside and unpacked, you begin prepping for dinner. Jimin, to his credit, offers his help without you even having to ask, and with his assistance you finish cooking in record time. Your parents join you in the dining room, and together you enjoy the meal over the evening news.

You retire to your room after dinner, cracking open your laptop to go over the details of your internship for the umpteenth time. You’ve read the emails and the attached documents so many times you practically have them memorized, but the anxiety gnawing at your belly refuses to be quelled. You’re returning to Seoul in less than a week, and your empty suitcase sits in the corner of your childhood bedroom like a taunt. You wonder, briefly, if you should start packing.

“Nah, it can wait,” you decide, muttering the words to your nonexistent audience. Standing up, you stretch lazily before exiting your room and heading down the hall to the bathroom that you and Jimin share, muffling a yawn behind your hand.

You’ve just finished brushing your teeth when your phone vibrates against the bathroom counter, a notification lighting up your screen. Spitting into the sink and rinsing off your toothbrush, you towel off your face before picking up your phone, blinking owlishly at the text.

[11:08pm] Jungkook: can you come over?

By itself, it’s not an unusual request. At this late an hour, though, you can’t help the unease that rises up in your belly. And as if sensing your apprehension, your phone vibrates again.

[11:09pm] Jungkook: my parents are out

[11:09pm] Jungkook: please? i could use some company

There’s an edge of desperation in his last message—something you haven’t seen in him since you returned home. It reminds you a bit of the Jungkook you used to know—the scrawny, gangly one with a nose too big for his face and an all-encompassing fear of the opposite sex. Give me ten minutes, you tell him.

Okay, Jungkook writes back. See you soon.

The next few minutes are a blur. You slather on some moisturizer and consider changing out of your pajamas and putting on a bra, but dismiss the thought immediately. Jungkook has seen you in far less, and you’re staunchly opposed to putting a bra back on after a certain hour of the night. Besides, he’s sure to dispose of your clothes at some point, so there’s little point in changing. With that thought in mind, you tiptoe out into the hall, past your parents’ bedroom and Jimin’s closed door. You carefully edge around the creakiest floorboards and hop over the two steps in the staircase that always groan when subjected to additional weight. Gingerly, you edge open the front door, just enough to slip out into the night.

The trek across the yard doesn’t take long, and Jungkook swings the door open before you even get a chance to knock. “Hey,” he says, and you can’t help but smile at the familiar round glasses perched on his nose. He’s in his pajamas as well—a blue and white checkered set that’s about two sizes too big—and when he ushers you inside, you catch a whiff of his floral laundry detergent.

“Hey,” you say. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Long day,” he sighs, raking a hand through his already tousled hair and mussing it further. “Come on in. You want anything to drink?”

You shake your head, stepping into the entryway and watching as he closes and locks the door again. Jungkook nods and shuffles to the kitchen, where he pours himself a glass of water from the faucet and downs half of it in one swig. His throat bobs as he swallows, his head tilted back to expose the long line of his neck, and you step a little closer as he turns to refill the glass.

“On second thought, maybe I’ll have some water too.”

“Mm. Okay.” Jungkook turns and fetches a second glass, filling it to the brim before handing it over. Then he takes your free hand and leads you upstairs, taking a left turn into his bedroom and nudging the door closed with his foot.

“So…” you begin slowly, putting your water down on the nightstand and reaching for the hem of your shirt. “We need to be quick. My mom’s a light sleeper, and I’m pretty sure I heard Jimin playing games in his room when I walked by.”

Jungkook chuckles and lays his hands over yours, stilling your attempt to take off your shirt. “When did you turn into such a horndog, Noona? Maybe I just want to hang out.”

You blink. “Did you just want to hang out?”

Jungkook plops onto his bed and grabs you by the waist, tugging you down and into his lap. “I mean, yeah—I thought that was obvious. Figured we could watch a movie or something.” Grabbing the tv remote, he switches on the television hanging on the opposite wall. “Any suggestions?”

You hesitate. You’ve been in Jungkook’s bedroom just once since you’ve come back, and the memory of the way he’d bent you over the desk in the corner sends a pulse of heat to your cheeks. Tearing your gaze away from the piece of wooden furniture, you instead focus on the television screen, watching as he navigates over to the Netflix menu.

“We can go old school too, if you want,” he remarks as he scrolls through the list of new arrivals. “I have a DVD player.”

That draws a laugh from your lips. “When was the last time you purchased a DVD? Last I checked, you only had Kung Fu Panda, Iron Man, and two copies of Titanic for some reason that you still won’t tell me.”

Jungkook laughs, his chest rumbling against your back. “Call it human error,” he says, looping his arms comfortably around your waist and propping his chin on your shoulder. “How do you feel about going super old school? I can get the VHS player out of the basement and pop in one of the Pokémon movies.”

“I’m sure we won’t have to resort to that,” you assure him, grinning. “Here, why don’t we just watch Iron Man? Three’s your favorite, right?”

“Three is everyone’s favorite,” he says, scrolling over to the appropriate menu and clicking play. “It’s the best one, hands-down.”

“Won’t argue with you there.”

The movie starts, and you shift off Jungkook’s lap to switch off the lights. Darkness overtakes the room as the screen lights up with the opening credits, and when you return to the bed, Jungkook has sprawled comfortably against the pillows lining the headboard. His eyes remain glued to the screen even as he reaches for you, and you hesitate for only a second before joining him, laying down beside him and letting his arm find its way around your shoulders. The scent of floral laundry detergent fills your nostrils, and you subtly nestle a bit closer, resting your head on his chest.

This isn’t the first time Jungkook has seen this movie. You know this for a fact, yet that doesn’t change how raptly he watches the screen, the action sequences reflected perfectly in his glasses. He’s practically vibrating with excitement by the time of the final showdown, mouthing along to the lines, and you hide your smile in the blue-and-white squares of his pajama shirt as the music swells.

It’s well past midnight by the time the credits roll. Jungkook seems perfectly content to lie on his bed with his arm around you, and when you make to get up, his grip slides down to your waist to hold you in place. “You gotta watch the credits all the way through,” he says, blinking at you with bleary eyes now that the adrenaline from the final showdown has worn off. “There’s a post-credits scene, remember?”

You shake your head, but let him pull you back down onto the mattress regardless. “I’m sure you already know what it is. Why don’t you just tell me?”

“What’s the fun in that?” he asks with a grin.

The end credits continue—an endless stream of names scrolling down the screen. Your eyes begin to droop, the words blurring together, and it’s only when the music stops and the final scene begins that you jolt awake. Jungkook is faring no better than you are, suppressing a yawn behind his hand as he watches the last bit of the film through half-lidded eyes. Then the screen goes dark, and silence descends over the room once more. You glance at the alarm clock on his nightstand and see that it’s nearly two in the morning. A look back at Jungkook reveals that both his eyes have fallen shut, and you slowly begin wriggling free from his embrace in order to head home.

You’ve barely moved an inch when Jungkook’s arm tightens around your waist. “Stay,” he mumbles sleepily, one eye cracking open.

You should say no. You should head home to the safety of your own bed. But there’s something about Jungkook—something soft and fond in his tired gaze and something vulnerable in the way he’s holding you so tightly against his pajama-clad body with his hair in complete disarray and his round glasses askew. Heaving a sigh, you reach up to take them off his face, placing them neatly on his nightstand.

“Okay,” you whisper. “I’ll stay.”

Jungkook smiles sleepily and shuts his eyes. “G’night, then, Noona.”

“Night, Jungkookie.”

Within seconds, his breathing evens out, and you know he’s off in dreamland. Twisting in his grasp, you tug your phone out of your pocket and set a quick alarm for six o’clock. Neither of your parents wake up until seven at the earliest, and Jimin would sleep until three in the afternoon if he could get away with it, so you’re certain that you’ll have plenty of time to sneak back into the house. Besides, Jungkook’s bed is comfortable, and his chest is practically a furnace against your back. You aren’t sure you could work up the energy to leave even if you tried.

So instead, you settle back into his embrace and let sleep whisk you away.

///

There are birds chirping outside the window when you open your eyes the next morning, blinking blearily against the sun shining through the curtains. The blanket is tangled around your legs and there’s an arm looped around your waist, and you sit bolt upright when realization dawns. Jungkook groans and mumbles something unintelligible, but you don’t pay him any mind as you twist out of his grasp, clutching for your phone on the nightstand.

7:03am.

Shit.

Throwing your legs over the side of the bed, you rise to your feet and shove your phone into the pocket of your pajama pants. Jungkook makes a sound that vaguely resembles your name, and you spare him a glance as you fumble for your shoes. He’s flat on his back, blinking hair out of his eyes as he fights to stay awake. “Hey,” he manages, his voice raspy.

“I gotta go,” you whisper urgently, successfully putting your shoes on the right feet and wrenching the door of his bedroom open. And then you turn and dash out, leaving a very sleepy, very disheveled Jungkook blinking after you.

Your house, when you carefully crack open the front door and poke your head inside, is quiet. Much to your relief, you don’t hear any of the telltale signs that your family is awake and downstairs yet—no drip of the coffee maker and no sizzle of bacon or eggs. From upstairs, however, you can distantly hear the sound of the shower, so you dart inside and toe off your shoes, padding into the kitchen to start the coffee maker. You check the alarm you’d set the night prior as you scoop coffee grounds into the filter, and curse under your breath when you realize you’d somehow managed to select six PM instead of AM.

You’re seated in the living room with a mug of fresh coffee when Jimin shuffles in with damp hair and a sleepy frown. “You’re up early,” you remark.

“I have a morning class to teach,” he replies, yawning widely as he grabs a fresh mug. “What’s your excuse?”

You shrug. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Fair enough.”

Suppressing another yawn, your brother turns his attention to the refrigerator, rooting around for the milk. And you return yours to the window, where you can see the side of the Jeon’s house, and Jungkook’s bedroom window on the second floor. There are no signs of life from within, and you wonder if he’d gone back to sleep after your departure. Considering how tired he’d looked last night, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had.

Chaeyoung’s voice echoes in your mind then, soft and wistful. It always seemed like he had a bit of a thing for you. Happiest I’ve seen him in a long time. And honestly? I think it was because of you. We never really forget our first crush, do we?

And then Jisoo’s words rise up in your brain, just a bit louder. He’s a heartbreaker. He never, ever stays until the morning.

So why, then, did you wake up in his arms today?

#jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #jeon jungkook #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfiction #brother's best friend au #lia writes

[libraryofloveletters]

Love To Loss

Eddie Diaz x Reader 

Warnings: mentions of childbirth, disagreements 

Category: Angst 

Word Count: 3k

Author’s Note:  this was a product of my insomnia so here we go, also yeah I don’t know why it ended so abruptly but yeah :) 

pt.2: Loss to Love 

--

Was love real ? 

Was it worth it ? 

All the pain and broken hearts and despair, was it all worth it if in the end, I got to come home to you ? 

No idea where you were going, where you’d end up or who you’d end up being but you never let that stop you. That’s how you could yourself outside the fire station. You weren't looking for a job, in fact you were looking for someone, someone you had lost so many years ago. The station was quiet, not sure if you were allowed to be in here when no one else was, you paced the empty station. 

The sound of a horn made you look up, there was a fire engine that was waiting to reverse in and you were in the way. The door opening and shutting, a man walked towards you. “Excuse me, you can’t be standing there” he says, pointing to the side of the station, you step out of the way, allowing the truck to reverse in. You watched as he instructed the driver, the back of his jacket read Nash. He wasn't who you were looking for but maybe he could help you. The fire engine began emptying, one by one they stepped out. 

“Can I help you ?” the same man returned to you. 

“Um, I think you can. What’s your name if you don’t mind me asking ?” 

“Bobby Nash, you are ?” he stuck his hand out

“Y/n “ you shook his hand. He had a fatherly aura to him, the type that made you feel safe and comfortable, like you didn’t have to worry about anything. Bobby smiled at you, “what can I help you with, y/n?” 

“I’m actually looking for a friend. I lost touch with him a while- actually more than a while, it's been years” 

“I’d love to help but what makes you think I can ?” 

“All I know is that he's a firefighter. I just thought on the off chance, maybe you’d be able to point me in the right direction” 

“Who’s your friend ?” Bobby asked

“Edmundo Diaz, he goes by Eddie” 

Bobby let out a laugh, your brows furrowed. Either there was good news and he knew him or there was bad news and Eddie had vanished or something horrible. You braced yourself for the answer. “Eddie’s one of ours. He's not in right now, his shift starts at..” Bobby glanced at the clock, “3, if you’d like to wait.” 

“Yeah, that’d be great” you smiled. The two of you headed up the stairs, he introduced you to the team. Buck, who was more than happy to show you around, Chim who was also welcoming and super funny and Hen, who you instantly liked and knew you’d get along with. “Can I get you something to drink ? A cup of coffee? Water ?” Bobby rounded the counter, “water is fine, thank you” you took a seat on one of the stools. 

“So y/n, how do you know Eddie ?” Buck leant forward, elbows on the counter and his attention on you. “We grew up together” you took a sip of the water. Buck’s head tilted slightly, almost like he didn’t believe you. His brows furrowed “c’mon, there has to be more to the story than just you growing up together” 

There was, but were you ready to open that back up ? To tell Eddie’s friends all about why you lost touch to begin with ? 

A dry chuckle left your throat, “sure you can handle the whole story ?” you smiled at him, he nodded eagerly. “Oh yeah, I'd love to know. Eddie isn't really one to talk about his past” 

Good to know somethings didn’t change. 

“Take a seat, you’re in for a story” you patted the chair beside you, Buck sat and once again, his attention back on you. You started from the beginning. 

El Paso, 2008. 

Hot summer days didn’t even begin to explain the type of weather you were having in Texas right now. The bedroom window was open and Eddie’s back was turned to you. He had been taking a nap when you arrived, the whole point of you coming over was to help him pack up his stuff. Laying beside him, your finger traced over his shoulder, moving down to his back. Tracing shapes and drawing your own little pictures against his skin. “Mhm, Shan- stop” he mumbled as he shifted in bed. 

Your heart sunk in your chest. 

“Not Shan” you teased, “just me” you sat up, your back resting against the headboard. Eddie’s eyes opened slightly, squinting from the sunlight in the room. “Oh hey” he rolled onto his side, his head now on your lap and his arm tossed over. You smiled at your best friend, if this was the last memory you have with him before he leaves, that's fine. 

You’d keep this day in your mind forever, but just the good parts. 

“Come on sleepyhead” your fingers running through his hair. He groaned, “5 more minutes” 

“You’ve been sleeping all day, mom says you gotta get up” Eddie flips onto his back, head still on your lap as he looks up at the ceiling. The room is quiet for a few moments, the only noise coming from outside through the open window. You break the silence first, “do you really have to go ?” you ask him as he gets up. “You know I do,” he sighs as he looks back at you before he pulls his bag out of the closet. 

“I don’t want you to leave” you begin taking some clothes from the closet, folding them and setting them on the bed. “And you think I want to leave ?” Eddie grumbles, you could hear the annoyance in his voice. 

The two of you have had this conversation countless times, honestly it was the only truthful conversation the two of you have had in the last few weeks. There was an unspoken level of love between the two of you, far more than just the typical loving your best friend goes. It was more than that but Eddie was with Shannon and he says he loves her, so who were you to go and admit your feelings now. To ruin what he had with her. It would break your heart to break his so you never said anything. Instead, you stayed quiet, telling him that you’d miss him when he left and helped him pack. The rest of the afternoon was quiet, neither of you speaking, quiet exchanges as you shifted around the room and passed things to each other. Eddie sits on edge of the bed, watching as you fold a shirt, his hand wrapping around your wrist. Humming, you go on folding until Eddie tugs on your hand, nodding towards the spot beside him. 

Sitting beside him, once again, the room is silent. So silence that you hear the thoughts in Eddie’s head. “Y/n, I-” his sentence is interrupted when Sophia knocks on his door, sticking her head in the room. “Ed, Shannon’s here to see you” she pulls the door in halfway before leaving the two of you in the room. Eddie looks at you, he opens his mouth to say something but you shake your head. “Go,” you breathe, “don’t keep her waiting” giving him a small smile. “Are you sure ?” he asks, his hand on your back. You hum, “I'll be out in a minute, I just have to call my parents” Eddie nods, leaving you in his room. You lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Letting out a sigh, all the possibilities running through your mind

What if you never get to see him again ? What if he comes home a different person ? What if he doesn’t come home at all ? You couldn't leave things unsaid, you couldn't let him leave without telling him out you really felt. 

Walking into the living room, Eddie sat on the recliner, Shannon on his lap. “Oh y/n” she smiled, “I didn’t know you were here” you gave her a small smile back. “Yeah, came over to help him pack” she turned back to Eddie, “why didn’t you call me? I would have came over” 

Seeing them together, you couldn't go tell him how you felt now. He was happy with Shannon, they were in love. 

El Paso, 2011. 

Over the last 3 years, Eddie had returned home a few times. Most of his visits home had been spent with family and Shannon, you’d see him for a few hours or if you happened to stop by his parents’ place for dinner. Within the last 3 years, Eddie had also proposed to Shannon, gotten married and had a baby on the way. 

Eddie called you earlier to let you know that Shannon had given birth and he now has a son, Christoper. You of course promised to come by and see him and the baby and you made good on your promise. 

“Hi, I'm here for uh Shannon” your fingers tapping against the nurses bay counter

“Last name hun ?” she handed you a visitor badge and a pen, “uh, Diaz, I think ? I’m not sure if she chang-” your sentence interrupted by your best friend calling for you. “Found them” you gave the nurse a smile before heading down the hall towards Eddie. 

“Y/n!” his arms stretched out, waiting for you to hug him. 

“Eddie! or should I say dad ?” you gave him a hug. 

God it felt good to be back in his arms. 

“Congratulations on the baby,” you smiled, “you're a baby yourself, I can't believe you have a kid” you teased, giving his face a little squeeze as the two of you walked in. Eddie’s arm was over your shoulder and your arm around his waist as the two of you entered the room, Shannon’s look was enough for Eddie to let go and take a step to the side. She gave you a smile, “nice of you to come by y/n” 

“Of course, hope you don’t mind” 

“Oh no, of course not! You’re Eddie’s best friend” 

The baby began crying, “he’s got a pair of lungs on him huh ?” you chuckled, Eddie smiled as he picked up Christoper. Fatherhood suited Eddie, from the way he picked up Chris to just the way he looked at him, he’d go to the ends of the earth and back for his son. “Do you want to hold him?” Eddie stepped towards you, Chris had settled now. “Um, yeah” taking a seat in the chair, Eddie handed Chris off to you. You smiled at the little boy in your arms, you couldn't believe that your best friend, the guy you grew up with, the guy who was barely not a kid himself, had a kid. 

“Hey lil man- oh you're so cute” you cooed as Chris yawned. Looking at Eddie who was now sat on the end of the bed, “The two of you have a beautiful little boy” 

El Paso, 2017. 

Eddie found himself on your doorstep with Christoper. Knocking on the door, you opened it. “Hey,” your brows furrowed, not that you minded the unexpected visit but you were confused. “Come in buddy” you helped Chris inside and Eddie followed the two of you inside. 

“Did you two have dinner? I could order a pizza or I could make something ?” 

“Can I have ice cream ?” Chris asked you, taking a seat on the couch. You glanced at Eddie who nodded. “Vanilla or chocolate bud ?” 

“Both!” his enthusiasm made you chuckle, “coming up kiddo” you smiled at Chris who was already flipping through the channels. Eddie followed you into the kitchen, the two of you on autopilot, your movements in sync, not a word being spoken. Most of your memories with Eddie have been the quiet ones, not a word between two of you, just moving around together. Eddie got the bowl of the cupboard as you got the ice cream. 

“What caused the visit ?” you asked, scooping the ice cream into the bowl. Eddie gave you a look, leaving you in the kitchen for a moment to give the ice cream to Christoper. You could hear the two of them talking, Chris telling his father how his favourite show was on tv and Eddie telling him try not to spill ice cream on himself and that he'd be in the kitchen. 

Eddie returned, heading straight to the fridge to get a beer. “I take it dinner didn’t go well ?” you ask, sitting on the counter. Eddie let out a chuckle, “well wasn't even in the house tonight” 

“What happened ?” taking the beer from him and taking a sip of it. 

“They think it's a bad idea to move across the country with a kid, that Chris needed stability and apparently- they’re the only stability he’s ever had.” Eddie groaned. You understood his frustration, you didn’t have a kid but you get what it's like to have parents who are trying to contradict your life choices. 

“And you're sure you want to do this ? Move to LA?” 

Eddie’s brows furrowed, he looked at you. “What do you mean? Are you siding with them ?” 

“No, of course not. I’m just asking if you're sure if you want to move” 

“Of course I am. I need to get out of here, Chris needs a change, somewhere that doesn’t constantly remind him of his mother.” he sighed 

“Eds, you know if you move you’ll be on your own. I don’t agree with your parents, you should be able to take Chris wherever you want but you won’t have the help you have here. You have your parents and me and Chris has his friends, are you sure you want to do this ?”

“Are you going to stop me ? Like you tried to stop me when I enlisted ?” he grumbled. If Chris wasn't in the house, you sure as hell would have cussed him for that. “How could you say that ? I didn’t try to stop you, I just didn’t want you to leave, which was the truth by the way.” you roll your eyes. 

“Listen, I just came here for you to say bye to Chris because we're leaving tomorrow” Eddie begins walking out of the kitchen, you grab his hand. “What ? That’s it? We're going to leave things like this ? You being mad for no reason ?” 

“You’re the one that doesn’t want me to move on” Eddie’s voice raised slightly

“Are you kidding me?! Did I try to stop you ?” your voice raises as well. Eddie pulls his hand from yours, Chris comes over and gives you a hug. “Bye y/n! see you soon!” he smiled at you, you looked down at the little boy, your arms wrapped around him. “See you soon kiddo” you lean down and kiss the top of his head.

You follow Eddie and Chris to the door, watching as Eddie helps Chris into the truck. Watching as he pulled out of the driveway and down the street. 

----

“And that was the last time I saw him.” you sigh, Buck’s mouth hung open. “Are you serious ? He didn’t call or write or even text ?” he asked you, you shook your head. “Nope, not a word since then. He changed his number and that was that” 

“Y/n?” the voice called, the voice you hadn’t heard in years. Glancing over your shoulder, there he was. 

Eddie Diaz, your best friend. 

He looked good, healthy. He hasn't changed besides for the shorter hair which he was pulling off rather well, it was a change from the fluffy hair he had the last time you saw him. 

“What are you doing here ? How’d you find me?” Eddie asked, he was shocked to see you and you couldn't blame him. You were shocked to see him and you came looking for him. 

“Uh- honestly I don’t know” you chuckled, “to which question ?” he looked over at you

“Both” you gave him a smile. 

“Yeah, okay. You need to go, I have a shift” Eddie tells you. “Eddie, we don’t have any calls right now. They can stay, I don’t have a problem with it” Bobby tells him, Eddie nods. “I get that Cap, but I have a problem with it” Eddie turns to you. “You need to go” he tells you again, you didn’t want to fight with him, especially in front of his team so you nodded. Turning back towards the team, you give them a smile, “it was nice to meet all of you” 

Heading down the stairs, the sound of footsteps behind you makes you stop, looking over your shoulder. Buck was behind you, “y/n wait!” 

“Everything okay ?” 

“Oh yeah, where are you staying ? I’ll talk to him, maybe he’ll change his mind” 

Buck was sweet, his efforts were appreciated. “Do you have a pen or a piece of paper?” Buck pulled a pen out of his pocket, he couldn't find a piece of paper so he stuck his hand out for you to write on instead, you chuckled. Writing down the address and your number, you hand the pen back to Buck. 

“That’s the address and my number. The number’s for Eddie or for you if he doesn’t want it” you smile at him, Buck’s cheeks got red. Poor guy was flustered which made you smile, at least your charms still worked on someone. “Seriously though, thank you Buck. It’s nice to know Eddie has people that care about him” Buck gives you a smile, watching as you watch out of the station. 

Buck wasn’t the only one who watched you walk out, Eddie did too, from the balcony. The topic of you and your visit was dropped. No one asked any question or said a word. The day went on as a normal shift. 

----

taglist: @advicefromnixxxx @keenmarvellover​ @venusrosepetal​ @mikaelson-emma​ @beth-winchester21​ @averyhotchner​ @fernandaweasley2​

#eddie diaz #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz oneshot #eddie diaz imagine #edmundo diaz #eddie diaz fan fic #eddie diaz fanfic #eddie diaz fic #911 #911 fic #911 fanfic #911 fox #911 imagine #911 oneshot #911 reader insert #9-1-1 #9-1-1 oneshot #9-1-1 fanfiction #9-1-1 reader insert #9-1-1 imagine #9-1-1 on fox #9-1-1 fanfic #9-1-1 fic

[yoonsshadow]

Nights Like These - ot7

prompt ; ‘what about an ot7 where the guys and the reader meet over for a movie night at the boys dorm? like just chilling there and a lot of fluffy comments over the film and little touches always around the corner?’ sent in by @aestheticistsblog​

pairing ; ot7 x fem!reader

genres ; romance

themes ; fluff

warnings ; mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption

word count ; 740 

note ; Gahh my teeth nearly rotted while writing this. But I don’t regret it one bit. Thank you so much for this prompt. xx

Well. You can’t say you’re surprised that it ended up like this.

The night started out as it always does; Saturday afternoon meets evening, air growing cooler and spirits growing higher. You arrive on time⎯⎯you always do, and for some reason it always surprises them⎯⎯with two cartons of beer in your arms and a bag filled with ten packets of popcorn hanging from between your teeth. Too much is never enough, on nights like these.

You’d started with the beers, clinks of congratulations sounding through the dorm kitchen. For making it through the week, for being on time, for correcting a broken sleep schedule; anything and everything.

You’d giggled through stories of the past days, of angry coworkers and annoying strangers, collectively agreeing on buying a buffet of pizzas to share. It always costs a fortune, what with the raging hunger shared by seven large men, but it’s always worth it.

“What movie did you guys end up picking,” you had asked through a mouthful.

Seokjin sighed at that. “We were hoping that you could be the deciding vote,” he said, rolling his eyes at a certain maknae. “Apparently there are too many good animated films to choose just one.”

Before Jeongguk could get too riled up, Hoseok came to his defence. “It’s true, hyung! You can’t simply pick either Kung Fu Panda or Shrek. That would be, like, a crime!”

“I want to re-watch Megamind,” Namjoon added. “The trope subversions and societal commentary are impeccable.”

Taehyung had huffed, pouting at the group. “You’re all sleeping on the Barbie movie franchise.”

“I wanna watch A Bug’s Life,” Jimin said.

“I don’t give a flying fuck what we watch,” Yoongi said, “as long as it’s not Toy Story, I’m good with whatever.”

Seven heads turned to Yoongi, horror and disbelief on all of your faces. “What’s wrong with Toy Story?!” You though it might have been Jeongguk who asked it, but it honestly could have been any of you.

Suddenly shy, Yoongi ducked his head. “It makes me cry.”

You all cooed at the man, who suddenly became aggressive with the attention he didn’t want. “Fuck all of you, movie night is lame anyway.”

Twenty minutes later, he was curled up on the sectional with the rest of you, fighting for an inch of spare space. You eventually all laid atop each other, as usual, and snuggled up.

Which is where you are now, somehow on top of Seokjin, Yoongi, and Taehyung all at once.

“Surely cats have, like, instincts though,” Namjoon muses, watching as Duchess and her kittens trust Thomas O’Malley with their safety. “They should at least be able to survive.”

“They’re aristocrats, Joonie,” you mutter, eyes never leaving the screen. This film is one you’ve always had a soft spot for, and it hadn’t been difficult to convince the boys to put it on. “They were born and raised in a controlled, idyllic environment, so they don’t know anything about the outside world, let alone how to navigate it. That’s the whole metaphor of the film.”

Fingers stroke on your calves, featherlight and calming your mind into bliss. 

“I kind of have a crush on O’Malley,” Jimin breathes. You try to give him a playful kick, but he simply catches your foot and starts rubbing it. And, god, does it feel good.

“Pretty sure that’s bestiality, Chim,” Yoongi says.

“But he’s animated.”

“Don’t think that matters. Still a cat.”

“An alley cat.”

“Shut the fuck up, both of you,” Seokjin gripes, though there’s no malice in his words. He’s mostly just invested in the plot.

Meanwhile, you think you might be somewhere between heaven and a dream.

“She’s falling asleep,” Taehyung whispers.

You don’t bother opening your eyes. “No ‘m not.” As you say it, a hand begins to softly run through your hair, and you melt even more into the bodies you’re on top of.

“Don’t fight it,” someone says.

You try to, you really do; you’ve been looking forward to this night all week, and you hate the thought of wasting the precious time with your favourite boys just because you’re a little tired. But, well. There’s a feather-light touch of a fingertip stroking down the bridge of your nose, and it’s the final push you need to fall.

Right before you’re in the full depths of slumber, you hear a whisper. “God, she’s beautiful.”

You can’t say you’re surprised that it ended up like this.

End.

#bts #bts drabble #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fluff #bts ot7 #bts ot7 x reader #bts poly #bts poly!au #bts poly au #bts reader insert #bts scenario #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #poly bts #poly bts x reader #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #drabble prompts

[cowboy-eddie]

Tumblr Exclusive: Hen, Eddie and Get to Know You

It hits Hen at 1am in the morning, randomly, laying next to Karen, that she wouldn’t rely on Eddie to save her life. Not because he isn’t reliable, not because he isn’t skilled, but just because... she doesn’t know him very well. Sure, their kids have play dates and they work together in the field sometimes on medical cases, but other than that what does she know about him, and what does he know about her?

Rolling on to her side, away from Karen so she doesn’t wake her, she shoots a text to Chim because he’s probably the only person she could talk to about this.

Hen: what’s Eddie’s favourite colour?

Chim: what the fuck kinda question is that?

Chim: and it’s 1am

Chim: ask Buck

But that’s just the thing; Hen doesn’t want to ask Buck and dismiss it. She wants to know for herself. Endeavouring to ask him the next time he’s on shift, she put her phone down and rolled over. As sleep came to her, she tried to think about what she wanted to ask Eddie. Maybe he had a favourite TV show, or a favourite sport. Did Buck mention baseball? He definitely mentioned baseball...

~~~

“Hey, Eddie, what’s your favourite colour?”

His brows furrowed in confusion as he put down his fork.

“My favourite... colour?”

Everyone else was suddenly intrigued too, Chim leaning over to Buck who turned to whisper back.

“Well, yeah. I know Buck’s is red, Chim thinks it’s stupid to have a favourite colour, and Bobby-“

“-leave Bobby out of this conversation,” Bobby said, mid-mouthful of pancake. Eddie shrugged.

“I dunno... I don’t have one, I guess. Christopher’s is green, so... green?”

“Dude, it’s blue. You literally always gravitate toward blue,” Buck said and Eddie cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Okay, so I guess it’s blue.”

“What about your favourite sport? Is it baseball?”

“No, Hen, he’s a Hockey guy.”

Buck butted in again and Bobby was suddenly interested. Glancing between Hen and Eddie, he cocked an eyebrow.

“Why the interrogation, Hen?”

“I just... feel like I don’t know Eddie very well.”

“Yeah, well, the feeling’s mutual,” he huffed, clearly uncomfortable with being questioned, and Hen immediately back off.

“I’m sorry, Eddie, I didn’t mean to-“

“-no, it’s... it’s fine.”

And they leave it at that, Bobby frowning at Hen as if to say “did you break him?” Before turning back to his pancakes.

~~~

Later, on a call, Hen watched Eddie roll out a hose. He was methodical and efficient, but his knee on his left side was a little weak and if he leaned on that side he almost missed his step. Buck, of course, was glued to his side as usual and seemed to be working the hose as well, or maybe flirting. Whatever.

“Hen. Put Eddie down.”

“What?”

Hen turned toward Chim and he took the blood pressure cuff off his patient, patting his shoulder.

“Looks good. Probably just a panic-induced reaction. I do want to get you to hospital just in case.”

“Yes sir.”

The guy let Chim lie him on the gurney inside the ambulance and shut the door. Chimney, hands on his hips, cocked an eyebrow.

“Why the sudden obsession with Eddie? You in love with him?”

“I’m married, to a woman, with two beautiful children. Or did you forget, Chimney?”

“My bad. But seriously, you need to stop staring at him. You’re gonna make him take stress leave.”

“I told you! I feel like I don’t know him. How stupid is that; this guy is one of our best and I feel like I barely know him past Christopher.”

Chimney shrugged.

“It’s always been you and me, Buck and Eddie, and Bobby. It’s just the way things worked out.”

“I can still talk to Buck, though, and ask him how therapy’s going, ask him personal things. Can you imagine what would happen if I asked Eddie something like that?”

“Oh, I can, and I can tell you right now it would not end well. How about we stop staring him down, and take this poor guy to the hospital before he thinks we forgot?”

“Fine.”

Hen climbed into the ambulance, radioing into dispatch to alert the hospital they were on their way there.

~~~

“Hey, Eddie, what happened to your knee? If you don’t mind me asking?”

Eddie sighed, putting down the clipboard he’d just pried off Buck.

“I dislocated it a few years ago. Went to physical therapy and everything but it never quite bounced back.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks for telling me.”

Hen went to walk away, when Eddie called out.

“Hey, Hen- what’s your mom’s name?”

And Hen smiled. Of course Eddie got it.

“It’s Antonia- Toni, if you want to be on her good side.”

“I better stick with Toni then.”

He disappeared into the locker room then, and Hen blinked before heading back upstairs.

~~~

It carried on like this for the rest of shift- Hen would ask Eddie a random question, and then an hour or so later he would approach with one of his own. It got to the point that they were asking about each other’s families as well now; Hen knew Eddie had sisters, but she hadn’t known he was the youngest of the three of them. Eddie was aware Hen didn’t have siblings, but he had no idea her father abandoned her so young. She finds out his favourite food is his grandmother’s Tamales, and he discovered that she loved cheeseburgers but only when Buck orders them, because he always remembers to double the ketchup.

Meanwhile, the other three watched this go on between calls. Buck crossed his arms, but he wasn’t pissed- if anything he was pleased.

“Fucking finally,” he murmured, Chim and Bobby looking to him with confusion. Buck shrugged.

“I always felt like those two just didn’t quite click, not in a mean way or anything, but more along the lines of no shared interests.”

“They’re bonding over their love of hockey I think,” Chim said, watching over the rail into the truck bays. Bobby just shrugged.

“As long as they’re getting along. It’s good to see Eddie opening up a little.”

“Amen,” Chim and Buck said simultaneously. The alarm began blaring and everyone leapt into action.

~~~

“Hey, Hen, can I ask you something?”

“If it’s my favourite cheese, you can bribe me easily with Brie,” Hen joked, head in the ambulance as she restocked it. Eddie shifted.

“No, it’s a little more, uh- why today?”

“What do you mean- oh. Oh!”

Hen stopped throwing things in the cupboards, taking a seat on the edge of the ambulance. Eddie sat too and she realised he was trying to trust her.

“Well, it’s kind of- kind of stupid, actually. I was lying in bed and it was 1am and apparently I was kind of delirious, because I- for half a second... I felt like I couldn’t trust you with my life.”

Eddie’s face hardened, walls going up, but Hen darted to grab his arm.

“I was wrong! I was wrong. You’re a skilled firefighter, and you’re unstoppable on scene, but I just- I felt like I didn’t know you very well. I decided to change that. I wanted to change that.”

His face screwed up, like he’d eaten something bad, before he shrugged.

“Cool.”

And that was it. Off he went, probably to find Buck. Those two were inseparable in the best of times, let alone when either of them were feeling vulnerable.

~~~

The next call they were on, Chim was tied down with a patient and Hen could tell she needed help. She turned her head, about to yell when she felt Eddie appeared behind her like he’d known and she grinned at him.

“Grab the stethoscope.”

“Got it.”

And they worked in unison. For the first time she felt like he had her back and she had his. They smiled at each other, focusing on helping their patient. When the patient had been loaded into the ambulance, Eddie cleared his throat and looked to Hen.

“Hey, uh, I think we know each other better than we think.”

“I think you should go and kiss Buck, but I hope to god you already know that.”

“Oh my god, Hen,” Eddie choked, but he was laughing so Hen figured he wasn’t pissed and about to close off to her. Nudging his shoulder, she gestured to their patient.

“Ride with me? I might need you to stay in the back.”

“Sure thing.”

Hen turned and yelled to Chim that she had to get to the hospital and he went to climb into the ambulance when Eddie beat him and Chim pouted. Buck appeared beside him, a frown on his face.

“Did they just-“

“Eddie stole my best friend,” Chim huffed. Buck snorted.

“If it makes you feel any better, Hen stole my boyfriend.”

“Buck.”

#Eddie Diaz #Evan Buckley #Henrietta Wilson #Hen Wilson #Bobby Nash #Chimney Han #Chim #911 #911 on fox #buck #9-1-1 #911 fox #evan buckley #hen wilson

[honeytae]

Happiest of tipsy birthdays to you.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LUNA!!!!! ahh where do i even start, i’m so grateful for you and our friendship :( you create such a safe space and radiate such love and light, you deserve everything that you put out into the world and i hope you have the best day today and every day! i love you so much, please accept my gift of a jimin drabble (that i really should just title ‘For Luna’ honestly) and millions of virtual hugs and smooches today. happy birthday @stayjimin!!!!!!!!!

genre: fluff word count: 1.7k

“Oh my god Jimin, we’re so screwed.” 

Falling into the man with a cackle, you laughed even harder when he too fell over in his unsteady state, tugging you down with him onto the set of stairs as your combined giggles echoed off the walls. 

Your head spun in the best way possible as you laid down on Jimin’s chest, far too gone to care about the dirt on the floor of the dorms stairway, both drunkenly collapsed from your birthday night out. 

You couldn’t remember how many shots you’d taken. It was, as they say, all a blur. All you could see was Jimin on that dance floor, switching between sensual moves to downright idiocracy as he shimmied his shoulders all the wall from the bar back to your booth, offering you drink after drink with that charming smile of his.

Damn him.

With your blood alcohol level, walking seemed to be impossible. Doing stairs, even more so. You were definitely well past tipsy. 

“We really are.” He sighed happily, crescent eyes making you even dizzier in your state as you stared at the man’s beautiful features. 

He always got especially giggly when he was drunk, which was probably what you adored the most about him. Consistently happy when he was sober, yes. But get a shot of tequila in his system and he was giddy. 

His body was soft yet firm beneath you as his arms latched around your frame, the rising and falling of his chest creating a calm within you that only he could.

“Chim,” you called, “we have to get up these stairs.” You remembered suddenly, setting your chin on his pec to look up at him as he seemed to ponder the thought.

“We could call Bang-”

With a snort, you cut him off, making the man pout as he squeezed at your side.

“What?”

“We’re not calling your manager to get our drunk asses up the stairs.” You said, bewildered at the thought as Jimin only shrugged with a grin.

You were drunk, but you weren’t that drunk.

“C’mon, I’m getting tired.” You tried to lift yourself off his body, only to falter slightly on your way up as you tried to complete the action too fast.

Jimin easily caught you in his arms even in his altered state, chuckling slightly as you gripped his bicep for support, subtly feeling up the muscle he’d built there with no shame present in your buzzed mentality. 

“Hm, these are nice.” You commented as you squeezed the hard tissue again, Jimin throwing his head back in laughter at your unabashed praise. 

“Thank you, dove.” He replied, the pink on his cheeks from the alcohol increasing at your words. Before you could make any other moves on his body, he began slowly guiding you to sit up with him before rising to his feet again with a grunt. 

Offering his hand down to you, you missed it twice, the vodka messing with your head more than you’d like to admit as you finally gripped onto his fingers. With his opposite hand resting on the railing beside him for support, (he’d learned his lesson last time that it was hard to get up from the ground with seven shots down the hatch), he pulled you up from the ground with little to no help from your weakened body, pulling you into his side with an accomplished sigh.

Softly smiling over at you, he squeezed your hand in his, lifting them together and wordlessly throwing your arm around his shoulder.  

Even though he had consumed just as much alcohol as you did, he found it much easier to level out his swaying than you, speech significantly clearer despite the lack of difference between the amounts of alcohol you’d drank. 

You’d always been a lightweight. 

After pointing this fact out, Jimin giggled fondly once again, making you grin over at him as you studied his face through your bleariness.

“You’re worse than Hobi-hyung.” He pointed out with a teasing nudge of his elbow, his words causing you to gasp in genuine offense as the man beside you laughed once more. 

“Okay, my little leightweight. Let’s go.” 

Although the next few sets were challenging, somehow you finally managed to reach the boys’ floor, both of you giggling and stumbling all the way to their front door with cheeks aflame from both your alcohol intake and intense struggle up the stairs. 

Propping you up between the door frame and his shoulder, Jimin raised his other arm to pound on the door, repeating the set several times before whining when his knocks went unanswered for the umpteenth time.

“Fuck, can they not hear us?”

“I think the whole city can hear us.” You commented absentmindedly, eyes widening in pleasant surprise as Jimin leaned into you again with drunken giggles escaping his mouth. With a sigh, he reached into his jean pocket for his phone to dial what he thought to be Namjoon’s number.

With the number immediately going to voicemail, Jimin’s shoulders deflated a bit, tapping his fingers against the screen to send a message to the groupchat.

“Is it possible that they have the world’s biggest earplugs?” He huffed, banging his fist against the door again before his eyes widended when he heard the sound of shuffling from the other side. 

Knocking his fist harder against the wood, Jimin determinedly kept up his actions, you leaning your head on his shoulder while chuckling at the man’s antics. You’d surely hear about this from Yoongi in the morning. 

“Jimin?” 

The deep voice from behind the door was immediately recognizable of Taehyung’s familiar drawl, a slight rasp in his uncertainty of who the hell was banging down the door so late - well, early - in the morning. 

“Taetae! Hey!” Jimin shouted into the peephole, said man whipping the door open almost immediately to shush him, swollen eyes giving away that he’d most likely been in a deep sleep when you two had begun your ruckus outside the door. 

“Shh, Jimin. People are trying to sleep.” He whispered, both you and Jimin nodding wide-eyed as you stifled grins at the parent-like scolding. 

Taehyung looked over you both for a moment, sighing at the dirt from the stairs imprinted on Jimin’s black jeans. He could only imagine how you two had gotten home.

“You guys are idiots,” he shook his head, “And you should’ve called me. Come on.” He ordered, one hand cemented to the top of Jimin’s spine and the other one laid on the back of your shoulder to guide you both into the apartment.

“Is everyone sleeping?” Jimin whispered, Taehyung humming in confirmation as he led you both down the silent hallway, every single bedroom door shut snugly as the members slept behind them. 

Your hand was still miraculously caught up in your boyfriends even as Tae pushed you both to the door of Jimin’s bedroom, fingers locked around each other to ground yourselves even when the world around you was spinning so intensely. 

Jimin’s steps were slower than normal, as were yours due to the amount of alcohol flowing through your bloodstream, and his movements were stalled as he approached his door. Wrapping his fingers around the doorknob took concentration and extra effort, but he managed to twist the door open, almost falling flat on his face when the door gave way beneath his hold. 

“Christ, Jimin.” Taehyung swore under his breath, grabbing the man underneath his bicep to pick him up to stand on his own two feet again. Jimin only breathed a chuckle in response as you bit down on your lip, Taehyung’s obvious frustration with your drunken foolishness making the situation much funnier than it’d already be. 

“C’mon, guys. Keep it movin’.” Tae ushered you both in front of him, giggling all the way as you let yourselves be blindly guided by his hands. 

“Tae, I’m really trusting you right now. I don’t know where the bed-” you paused suddenly as you bumped into an object with your thigh, reaching your hands out to find the plush mattress beneath your touch, “hey, that was fast.”

Taehyung couldn’t help but let out a snort at your words, shaking his head as he directed you two to the bed, pulling his eyebrows together with a whine when Jimin began audibly unzipping his jeans.

“Yah, don’t strip with me in here!”

Grunting in response, Jimin tossed his pants on the ground, meeting your eyes with a laugh as you crawled onto the bed. 

“I’m not sleeping in jeans, you freak.” He mumbled, sass rolling off his tongue even in his now increasingly sleepy state, Taehyung scoffing in response yet nevertheless grabbing a blanket from the end of the bed to cover you both in.

With a directing nod of his friend’s head, Jimin collapsed onto the bed with a chuckle, you following the man as he tugged on your hand to pull your body on top of him. You both sighed in content as Taehyung threw the blanket over your bodies, the air conditioning in the room causing a brisk chill to raise bumps on your arms.

“Do you guys need water, pain meds?” Taehyung asked, pausing at the bottom of the mattress to answer any requests from the two groggy bodies in front of him. 

“No, we’re great.” Jimin sang, laugh erupting out of his nose as he glanced up to view his friends thoroughly annoyed expression. 

“Sorry we woke you up, Taehyungie.” He said, the pout evident in his voice as you hummed against his shirt. 

“Yeah, sorry Tae.”

“Mm. Are you guys going to be okay in here if I leave you?” He asked, leaning his palms on the end of the bed as you both nodded your heads. 

“We’re good. So good.” Jimin slurred, making you giggle as you leaned up to plant a kiss to his hot cheek. His eyes sparkled at your affection, squeezing you to his body with a grin. 

Jokingly rolling his eyes, Taehyung stood up straight, striding over to your bedside light to flick it off with his finger. 

“Alright, goodnight guys. Happy birthday, dear.” He added, you only humming in response before snuggling in to Jimin further. The sound of the door shutting was obviously softened for the other sleeping members’ benefits, Taehyung’s padding footsteps barely heard as he made his way down the hall to escape back into his own bedroom. 

“Did you have a nice birthday?” Jimin whispered after a beat of silence, glazed over eyes meeting yours in the dark as you carefully lifted your head, the pounding already minorly setting in. 

“I did. I had a very tipsy night.” You admitted, closing your eyes when his fingers stroked a few strands of hair back behind your ear with a fond chuckle.

“Good. You deserve it.”

Leaning up, he placed his pointer finger beneath your chin, pressing his lips to your cheek, over to the tip of your nose, your other cheek, and finally landing with a sweet peck to your lips. 

“Happiest of tipsy birthdays to you.”

#bts fanfiction #bts x reader #bts reader insert #bts fluff #park jimin fanfiction #park jimin x reader #park jimin fluff #park jimin imagines #park jimin imagine #jimin x reader #jimin fanfiction #jimin fluff #jimin imagines #jimin imagine #writing #fluff #x reader #reader insert #bts

[themaevethcometh]

One True Thing

Fandom: 9-1-1 Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz Rating: General audience Word Count: 3983 Important Tags: Love confession, magical realism, truth spells

Summary:  After an incident at a magic shop, Eddie can't seem to stop telling the truth.

Read on AO3 here

A/N: This was written for Tropetember day 12: Love confession! glad for the excuse to write some buddie :)

Buck warned him.

That’s what’s so ironic about this.  Buck told him that the shop was some sort of witch/occult/magic shop, and that Eddie had to be careful about what they encountered in there so they didn’t get cursed.

Eddie, of course, brushed him off.  Eddie doesn’t believe in curses.  Eddie doesn’t need to be careful inside a magic shop, because he’s wearing his St. Christopher medal and magic doesn’t exist.

Eddie knocks over some sort of jar while navigating the cramped shelves to get to the victim and some sort of powder spills all over him while the jar cracks open on the floor.  Most of it lands on his coat, shimmery blue and made of fine grains, but he’s not wearing his gloves since it’s not a fire so some of it gets on his hand.

It doesn’t sting, or feel weird, or anything like that.  He brushes the rest of it off of his coat and continues working, hoping that the city won’t have to pay for damages, even though he can’t imagine what would’ve been in a jar like that and how much it would’ve cost.

The rescue goes fine.  The victim doesn’t even need to go to the hospital.  As they’re leaving, Buck claps him on the back and says “Come on, Eddie.  The sooner we get out of here, the better.”

Eddie means to agree with him, but what comes out of his mouth instead is “You have beautiful eyes.”

Buck looks at him blankly, then frowns.  It’s adorable.  Buck looks like a puppy when he’s confused, and Eddie finds it hopelessly endearing.

“Your confused face is adorable.”

Eddie frowns this time, because he definitely didn’t mean to say that.  He’s not the kind of guy who goes around calling Buck adorable at the drop of a hat or complimenting his eyes.  He is adorable, and his eyes are beautiful, but he doesn’t need to be hearing that from Eddie.

“Are you okay?” Buck asks.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” he replies.  He looks to Hen for help, but all she does is raise her eyebrows.

“Don’t look at me,” she says.  “You’re the one who started showering Buck with compliments out of the blue.”

“I didn’t mean to!” he says, a little defensive.

“Oh,” Buck says.  “You mean I don’t have beautiful eyes?”

“No, you do!” he says, whipping around to face him again.  “I meant what I said, but I didn’t mean to say it.”

Buck smiles, part flattered, part teasing.  It’s the sort of expression that makes him look young and vibrant, and there’s something hopelessly endearing about that.

Eddie swallows, feeling a slight tickle in his throat, something deep in his chest urging him to speak.

“Aw, thanks Eddie,” Buck says.  “Your eyes are pretty, too.”

They’ve reconvened with the rest of the team now, and Chimney claps them both on the shoulder.

“What about my eyes, are they pretty?” he asks.

“Not as pretty as Buck’s,” Eddie says, then immediately bites the inside of his lip, because what.

“Ouch,” Chim says, hand over his heart.  “You wound me, Eddie.”

“That’s enough of that,” Bobby says, thankfully.  “Everyone here has pretty eyes, now get on the truck.  Shift’s almost over.”

“We’re so lucky to have Bobby as our captain,” Eddie says without thinking.  He wants to tape his mouth shut, or suffocate himself, or do something to ensure he never speaks again.

“Thank you, Eddie,” Bobby says patiently.  “Get on the truck, please.”

Eddie does and refuses to speak for the rest of their shift, even when the others try pestering him.  He changes quickly and is in his car and tearing out of the parking lot before anyone is able to corner him and force him to speak.

-/-

Eddie navigates dinner by mostly keeping his mouth shut and redirecting.  When he sees Christopher he greets him by saying that coming home and seeing him is always the best part of every day, which is something that he sometimes says but not something he was planning on voicing today.  Christopher asks about what he did at work and Eddie takes a bite of take-out to stop himself from blurting some of the more gruesome details of their rescues.  He ends up being able to talk around it, but his typical white lies and brush-offs won’t make it past his throat.

He asks Christopher questions instead and spends the rest of the evening feeling like he’s choking.  It’s not painful, but it’s extremely uncomfortable.  It feels like there’s something brushing his throat that shouldn’t be and needs to cough, and Eddie has never been very good at withholding his coughs.

He hopes that he gets over whatever is happening with a good night’s sleep, but the next morning he tells Christopher that his hair looks like a bird’s nest without meaning to.  When Christopher jokingly insults his cooking, Eddie almost says that comments like that sometimes hurt his feelings and make him feel like an inadequate father.  He barely manages to choke out “if you want good breakfast you need to cook it” instead, and the look that Christopher shoots him tells him that he’s definitely picked up on the fact that something is off.

“Dad, are you feeling okay?”

“I don’t want to talk about it with you,” he blurts.  Christopher’s face falls and Eddie himself curses inside his head.

“I’ll hopefully be back to normal soon,” he says, hand passing over Christopher’s head, smoothing down a bit of that bird’s nest.  “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“But Dad--”

“No buts!  It’s time to get ready for school!”

When he drops Christopher off, he tells him that he loves him, the words falling easily from his mouth like they do every other day.  If there’s one thing he’s never minded being truthful about, it’s his love for his son.

Unfortunately, his proclivity towards blurting the truth has not diminished by the time he pulls into the station for his shift.  He walks into the locker room, takes one look at Buck as he’s tying his boots, and says “I like how you look in that shirt.”

It’s the regulation LAFD shirt that they all wear as part of their uniform.

Eddie sighs heavily.  It’s going to be a long day.

“Uh, thanks?” Buck asks.  “You feeling okay, man?  Have you been getting enough sleep?”

“Probably not,” he replies automatically.  “I still get nightmares, but no more than usual this week.”

He needs to put a stop to this before it turns into an accidental and unwilling therapy session, because Buck’s eyebrows are already knitting together, face soft and concerned, the hint of a frown on his lips.

“I hate when you worry about me,” he says.  “Stop it.”

Buck laughs.  “That’s not as reassuring as you think it is.”

“I’m just being honest.  I’m as fine as you are.”

He’s glad that that comes out easily, at least.  Outside of the nightmares, things really have been fine lately.  Christopher is doing alright, neither Eddie nor Buck have been seriously injured recently, and there have been no dramatic upheavals in his personal life outside of the fact that he apparently can’t lie and needs to keep telling the truth or it feels like he’s choking.  Things are pretty good, actually.

Ravi enters then, and thankfully Buck doesn’t seem enthusiastic about discussing Eddie’s mental health in front of a probie.  Eddie gets dressed and finds himself verbalizing a few offhand comments he would otherwise keep to hismelf (he needs to remember to cut off the tag on his shirt so it stops itching, he hopes he doesn’t get any blisters today because his new boots haven’t been fully broken in yet, he has a knot in his shoulder and needs to stretch it out before the alarm goes off).  Ravi doesn’t seem to know if he’s supposed to respond or not, so Eddie tells him that he’s talking to himself and says that Ravi is a pretty good probie, then high-tails it out of the locker room.

It’s going to be a long shift.

-/-

Chimney confronts him after Eddie casually tells a man who got his foot stuck in his own toilet and then somehow gets mouthwash in his eye while they’re actively helping him that he’s the stupidest person they’ve gotten a call from this week and that his body odor is really distracting.  It’s true, but it’s not exactly tactful, and it’s a good thing that Bobby doesn’t overhear.

“Okay, what’s up with you?” Chimney asks when he pulls him aside back at the station.  “First the random compliments, then the talking out loud to yourself, and now insulting victims?  You know we’re not supposed to do that.”

“I don’t know,” Eddie groans.  “I can’t stop telling the truth.  I can’t lie.  Trying to hold it in is like trying really uncomfortable, then something weird comes out anyway!”

“Seriously?”  Chimney crosses his arms, raising his eyebrows at him.

“Stop looking judgemental,” Eddie says.  “It’s very effective.”

“So, what, you’re under some sort of truth curse?”

“I don’t know!” he repeats, throwing his arms up.  “I don’t believe in that stuff, but I don’t know what else it could be!”

Chimney pauses.  Eddie can feel that tickle in the back of his throat telling him to comment on how Chim has become better at giving advice since he became a father but is unhelpfully making Eddie feel like a little kid right now.

“Yesterday at the magic shop, did anything happen?” Chimney asks.

Eddie tries to say no, but at the last second he remembers the powder and chokes.

“I spilled some sort of powder on myself.  It didn’t feel weird or anything.  I brushed it off and thought it was fine.”

“You also then said that Buck’s eyes were pretty.”

“They are.”

Chimney stares at him again, then a slow grin spreads across his face.  This does not bode well for Eddie.

“So all of those compliments you’ve been giving Buck about how good of a person he is and how much you like his eyes...”

“I don’t want to talk about it!” he says, backing away.  “I do not want to talk about it.  I’m walking away right now so that I don’t have to talk about it!”

“Don’t want to talk about what?” Hen asks, stopping short on her path to the lounge.  Eddie clamps a hand over his mouth and basically sprints to the bathroom, locking himself inside and repeating useless truths to himself until he no longer feels the words on the back of his tongue.

-/-

He goes back to the shop immediately when their shift ends, texting Carla about an emergency and assuring her that he won’t be long.  The shop is on his way home, at least, which helps matters, but he still feels a little guilty, even though they always schedule Carla a little longer than necessary in case something happens that keeps him at work.

The shop looks so small and unassuming, tucked between two larger stores with a very normal OPEN sign by the door and nothing out of place in its window display.  There are vines painted on the main window and the door is purple, but otherwise it could be a perfectly normal store.

Eddie takes a deep breath before he enters.

The woman they helped looks up immediately from her spot at the counter when the bell over the door dings.  She recognizes him immediately as well if her bemused expression is anything to go by.

“Hello,” she says.  “You’re one of the firefighters from yesterday, right?  How can I help you?”

“I’ve been cursed,” he says, then barrels past her frown and unloads everything, beginning with the powder and ending with how scared he is that he’s going to say something that hurts someone he loves or makes them push him away.  When he finally finishes she purses her lips, grabs latex gloves from behind the counter and puts them on, then leads him further into the store.  He passes shelves of books, crystals, and jars, careful not to touch anything and keeping a safe distance behind the woman.

“I feel like this place should give me the creeps, but it doesn’t,” he says.  The woman shoots an unimpressed look over her shoulder, then stops, pulling a jar down from a high shelf.  She uncaps it and pulls a second lid off the top, tilting it so he can see the blue powder inside.

“Is this what got on you?” she asks.

“It looks more shimmery in this light, but I think so,” he says, watching the way the blue changes to silver and purple as he shifts his weight.  The woman sighs and puts both lids back on, replacing the jar on the shelf.

“Well, the good news is that it’s not a curse,” she says, taking off her gloves with audible snaps.  She heads back to the front and Eddie trails after her like a lost puppy.

“Then what is it?” he asks.

“It’s a helpful enchantment,” she sighs, retaking her position behind the counter.  “A little bit of that powder is supposed to give you a quality you need more of in life.  In your case: verity.  In some way, you’ll benefit greatly from being more truthful.  You, however, got an undetermined amount all over you, so instead of helping you be truthful in the specific area you need to, it’s having you spill your guts all over the place.”

“That’s so stupid,” Eddie says before he can stop himself.  The woman gives him annother unimpressed look, and he supposes that he just proved her point.

“How do I get rid of it?” he asks.  “I can’t keep living like this.  It’s awful.  It’s horrible.  I’m going to tell people secrets I don’t want them to know.  My best friend is getting suspicious because I keep complimenting him because I--”

He clamps a hand over his mouth, the words muffled and indiscernable.  The woman gives him another look.

“Maybe that’s the thing you’re supposed to be truthful about,” she says.  “That’s how you break the enchantment.  Once it’s done it’s job of getting you to improve your life somehow, the enchantment lets go.  Since it’s pushing you to speak the truth, once you say a particular important truth to whoever needs to hear it, it’ll leave on its own.”

“That’s so dumb,” Eddie glares.  “I’m just supposed to guess? I’m supposed to go revealing secrets to people and hope that it’s the right one?  That could go badly in so many ways.  This curse isn’t going to improve my life, it’s going to ruin it.”

“If you took a normal dose it would just compel you to reveal the necessary truth, but since you broke my jar and overdosed, it’s working overtime,” the woman says.  Eddie gets the impression that she’s quickly losing patience with him, which he thinks is bullshit when she got him into this mess.

“This is bullshit,” he says.

“You want to know what’s bullshit?” the woman asks before the truth spell forces him to elaborate.  “On a normal day I could sell the powder in the jar you broke for $4000, but because it got on you and the floor none of it could be slavaged.  So maybe you should give your buddy more compliments and let him know what he needs to instead of complaining to me about getting a free helping of a product that a lot of people pay good money for.”

“You’re very rude,” Eddie says.  “Telling me how expensive this stuff is doesn’t make me feel better when I still didn’t want it.  Also, I hate your shop.  I didn’t mean to say that, I’m not usually this mean out loud.”

The woman sighs.  “I can see how always having to blurt the truth makes things difficult, but unfortunately I can’t help you besides telling you to let it happen.  You’ll say the truth you need to and the enchantment will break.”

“I hate that,” Eddie says.  “I hate that idea.  I can’t talk to Buck about this.” 

He shuts his mouth, feeling the words explaining his reasoning fighting to be let out.  The woman must see something in how his face contorts, because she starts speaking again.

“You should leave.  I’m not the person who should hear this and I’m obviously not the person you want to tell, but take my card.  You can call if you have any other questions in a few days.”

She holds out a business card, purple with black writing that he has to tilt to read in the dim yellow light of the shop.

“Thanks, but I really hope I never have to use this.  That came out ruder than it was supposed to.  I’m going to go now so I stop putting my foot in my mouth.”

He backs out of the shop and speedwalks to his car, trying desperately not to say what he was about to back in the store.

When Carla opens the door, Eddie says “I need to go see Buck,” on a sigh.  He’s been sighing a lot since this whole truth enchantment started.  She sends him right back out into the world and he makes the trek over to Buck’s apartment.  He can still feel the words trying to force themselves out even though he’s alone.  It’s just one little sentence that he hasn’t even admitted to himself out loud yet, let alone anyone else, but he doesn’t want to say it.  It’s the kind of sentence that has a lot of power.

When Buck’s building comes into view, he parks and sits in his car for a while, wondering if he’s ready to do this.

The worst that can happen is that he ruins their friendship.  Buck isn’t mean enough to immediately drop Christopher because of it and they can probably keep it professional at work, but it’d still be one of the biggest losses of his life.  Losing Buck would probably feel like getting shot again, and Eddie is a bit sick of getting bullet holes in his body.

The best that can happen… well.  He hasn’t let himself think about that, because he’s not one to daydream about impossible things.

He swallows the words back, at least for a moment.  The last thing he needs is to run into a random person in the hallway and start spilling his guts.

Buck answers his door after a few moments, smiling when he sees who it is.  Eddie bites his tongue against complimenting that smile and telling him how it always sends a burst of warmth through him to see it directed at him.

“Eddie, hey,” Buck greets, stepping aside to let him in.  “What’s up?”

“I’m in love with you,” Eddie says, just like that.  The words roll of his tongue easily, tone casual like this isn’t arguably Eddie’s biggest secret and the most nerve-wracking thing he’s ever done.  It feels like a weight leaves his shoulders as he says it, leaving him lighter than he’s been in a long time.

“W-what?” Buck stammers.  Eddie steps inside, because he can still control whether or not the entire apartment building bears witness to this moment, even if he can’t keep it to himself.

“I’m in love with you,” he repeats.  “I’ve been in love with you for a while.  I really don’t see how everyone else in the world isn’t, because you’re one of the best human beings I’ve ever met.  I love your kindness even though the world has been so cruel to you.  I love how you treat Christopher and I love the way you always light up when you two are together.  I love how you have an infinite supply of random facts because you read Wikipedia when you can’t sleep.  I love how deeply you care about people you’ve never met while we’re on calls and how you never quit.  I love how you’d never, ever deliberately do something to hurt me.  I love the way you tease people you care about and how you can take it with good humor, too.  I love the way your eyes look in the sunlight and how your hair curls after you wash it and how you’re strong enough to pick me up.  I love your birthmark and the callouses on your hands.  I love you, even when you’re being reckless or annoying the crap out of me.  I think I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone except Christopher.”

The words hang in the air, suspended in space while he holds his breath, and when he finally exhales  they settle over him like a blanket.  He lets the silence carry on without feeling like he needs to fill it with every thought that crosses his mind.

That was the truth.  It was a bit more in-depth and a bit more romantic than he probably would’ve normally done it, but without a filter everything he feels for Buck came rushing out like a tidal wave, although this is one that Buck can swim in.  This is one that he deserved to hear.

Eddie glances at him, taking in his slightly open mouth and the dumbfounded look on his face.  When he catches Eddie’s eyes he snaps out of it, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his head.

“That’s, uh… did Chimney put you up to this?”

“What?  No.  Why would Chimney put me up to this?”

Buck shrugs helplessly.

“I don’t know?  You’ve been acting kind of weird lately.”

“And your first thought is that Chimney has something to do with this?  That he… what, decided that me confessing my long-held love for you would be a good way to mess with you, or something?  That makes no sense.”

Buck shrugs again, face growing a splotchy red.  It’s cute, but Eddie doesn’t feel the uncomfortable need to tell him so, not like he’ll choke if he doesn’t.

“Regardless of whatever you think my motivations were, what I said was true.  All of it.  I’m in love with you.  I don’t expect anything out of it, but I had to say it.”

Buck blinks at him again.

“Really?” he asks, hopeful smile cracking through.

“Yes, Buck, how many times do I have to say it?”

His smile grows and his hands twitch at his sides, like he wants to touch but isn’t sure how, so Eddie pulls him into a hug, easy as that.  Buck is good at making himself small, but he doesn’t this time, taking up all of the space available in Eddie’s arms and meeting him toe for toe.  Eddie smiles where his face is tucked near his shoulder.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear something like that,” Buck says, clutching at his shoulders.  “I’m in love with you, too, Eddie.  I have been for years.  Then you started complimenting me and I couldn’t figure out what you were doing.”

“I was just being honest,” he says.  Buck snorts, pulling back far enough to look at him.

“Why now?” he asks.  “Haven’t my eyes been pretty this whole time?”

“It’s a long story,” Eddie says.  “I’ll tell you later.”

He wants to stay in this moment for a little bit longer, and thankfully Buck seems to want that, too, pulling him close again so they can soak up each other in the silence.

-/-

When he does eventually tell Buck, he believes him.  Eddie’s not surprised, but he is a little surprised that Buck insists on sending a thank you note back to the shop.  Eddie drags his feet about filling out the little card, but when he writes I’m now happily dating the man I love he’s never been so happy to be telling the truth.

#911 on fox #buddie #tropetember #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie fic #911 fic #maeve writes #idk how to tag this man i haven't properly posted a fic on tumblr in a good hot second #my writing

[sickybubbies]

A/n: Y'all I realised there's really not enough pregnant Jungkook on here with Jikook ofc I'm a sucker for them lately. Anyway, sorry for the crappy ending, enjoy!

TW: Emeto, Mpreg

----------------------------

"You alright babe?" Jimin rasps, leaning up so he was perching on his elbow as he squints his eyes where he could make out a faint figure of Jungkook half climbing; hauling himself onto the bed under the early greys of the morning. 

"Mhmm," Jungkook hums quietly for a response, grimacing at the acid like texture in his throat that he was left with after throwing up. It was raw and strained, and Jungkook didn't like it one bit. He huffs and slips a hand under his shirt to hold on to his pudgy stomach, for two reasons. It was pushing past the waistline of his sweats from how bloated he was, after expelling the contents of his stomach routinely which tires him out endlessly and he wants to rip his insides out. 

But Jungkook decides to be forgiving, because he's a few weeks into carrying the beautiful baby that he and Jimin had always dreamed about having. The pair had spent days and nights, with Jimin's head on Jungkook's torso as they both squabbled about how they'd raise their child way back in the boyfriend phase. (“One baby with your short genes, one with my tall genes and my good looks, how's that sound?" "Yah!") Jungkook reminds himself that it was all gonna be worth it in the end, it's always worth it. He imagines just how bright Jimin's eyes were to get once their baby was here, if it wasn't bright enough when Jungkook told him the news of his pregnancy; he fears he'd metaphorically go blind from his joy. 

"I've just been sick." He murmurs, leaning back onto the headboard. Jungkook slouches, the energy sucked out of his bones as he shuts his eyes to hopefully regroup himself.

Jimin hums in acknowledgement, more awake now that he was aware of his husband's strife and leans over to press a generous kiss to his forehead. He wasn't going to let the younger deal with it alone, though the ones he accidentally sleeps through he's always up and at his service when needed and to smother him in love for afterwards. 

"I thought you were gonna. I could hear your tummy all night going squelch squelch" He mumbles playfully, hoping it would lighten the dreadful atmosphere. Jimin places a hand on Jungkook's stomach and begins to rub circles into it, hoping it would ease him some.

 The latter's abs had begun to disappear and his stomach was slightly dome shaped from the swell he had, his skin was softer and squishier the closer he gets to the second trimester and Jimin couldn't keep his hands off of Jungkook. In his defense, his husband looked adorable pregnant, he adored the sight so much and loved the tiny being to bits already. 

"Shut up Chim, listening to you is making me wanna vomit again" Jungkook groans, shifting on the mattress so he could get comfortable and pressing a fist to his lips as he feels his stomach fizzle up and an airy burp escape from his lips. 

Jimin pouts, he begins carding through Jungkook's soft purple hair. "Still feel bad? Aren't you supposed to feel better after bringing everything up?" He questions, his heart clenching as he watches Jungkook's face begin to pale and paint a tinge of green. 

Jungkook shrugs. "Dunno about that hyung, I don't feel better at all. I feel queasy" He admits, he'd learnt to vocalize to the older about how he felt; if he doesn't it's gonna end up with another one of Jimin's shirts in the wash, trust he's been there and learnt his lesson. 

"My baby…" Jimin coos softly, propping up next to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He keeps his fingers in Jungkook's hair, looking down at him and kissing the crown of his head as he slowly scratches his scalp. He holds the younger tighter when he stiffens and moans, his brows furrowing from the pain and havoc the nausea was causing in Jungkook's stomach from how he nuzzles his nose into Jimin's chest. "It's one of those days huh? Crackers and water, maybe some ginger ale if we feel less stubborn. How long does lil' bean plan to keep you sick for anyways?" 

"That feels nice..." Jungkook mumbles out, relaxing a little. Jimin's soft yet aimless conversations helped keep him distracted, and so were his gentle touches they did a great job in lulling him to sleep. 

Speaking of which, Jungkook is just about to drift into dreamland in the comfort of Jimin's arms when his stomach churns again. He feels a splash of bitter bile in the back of his throat, almost like the residue of sick that was still sitting at his throat from earlier. He almost sits upright, clenching his throat and covering his mouth as he belches. It catches Jimin's attention. 

"Jungkookie, Jungkookie" Jimin says in a haste, cursing under his breath as he looks around for anything Jungkook to spew in without jostling his stomach too much. His eyes drawing back to the younger one in worry when he next hears a wet gag which meant he couldn't hold on any longer now that his hand was leaving his mouth. 

Jimin looks around and finds the glass bowl he had on his side table which Jungkook had brought him months back, he sighs in relief. It was stashed with a bunch of sweets and random bits that he's quickly dumping out. He snags it up and under Jungkook's chin, straightening up with him and clicking his tongue when Jungkook whines and protests. 

"It's okay, Jungkookie it's okay, do it here. In here babe, I'll clean it don't worry. It's just a bowl" He assures softly, lowering it slightly so it wasn't right in his face as he slowly massages the back of his neck. 

Jungkook whimpers, feeling his stomach slosh and his muscles tense as he wraps an arm around his middle. He barely registers Jimin turning the lamp on before he's disgorging a stream of vomit into the bowl. 

He pants and grunts, jolting with a hiccup. His breath gets caught in his throat and he gags, coughing and spluttering before more chunky liquid is brought up which splashes into the bowl. Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, just the fact that it looked so much like his dinner still sent his stomach into another wheel. 

"That's it, let it out Kookie, my sweet boy." Jimin hums, digging under the sick man's shirt and rubbing up and down his arched back. He grimaces when Jungkook retches again, throwing up even more which makes his heart ache.

"You're doing well bun, I'm so proud of you. Keep going until you feel like you've finished" He encourages, kissing his shoulder and pulling him closer before pausing when Jungkook sobs. 

"H-hyung…" Jungkook chokes out, hiccuping as fat tears roll down his rosy and embarrassed cheeks. Usually, he's never one to cry so easily but pregnancy hormones had him spiralling into a pouty and emotional wreckage in a flash. Something was gnawing at him. 

"Jungkookie" Jimin whispers so he didn't startle him, stroking his hair back as he listened. 

"W-why this bowl… I got you it f-for our anniversary!" Jungkook cries out making Jimin flinch, his mouth wide in realisation now that Jungkook's refusal to puke earlier was because he didn't want to do it in such a meaningful, meaningful bowl. He forgot Jungkook was so peculiar about the little things. 

"Y-you could've gotten-" Jungkook hiccups. "A-another bowl o-or the trashcan. I w-worked so hard to get you this. Do you know how much it cost me on our holiday? N-now I've been sick in it i-it's all ruined I fucking h-hate you" He rambles, in the spur of his overriding emotions he misses Jimin's amused expression.

"Cute" He murmurs under his breath with a quiet chuckle, wiping his tears with his sleeve. "I'm sorry. I'll clean it up, squeaky clean and good as new. You won't even remember that you've been sick in it. I'm serious!" Jimin's voice raises a pitch as Jungkook looks at him unconvinced, his doe eyes still holding tears.

"Gimmie a kiss" He giggles, crawling forward while moving the bowl away as Jungkook groans loudly and scrunches his nose and tilts his head back. "A-ah ew no I've literally- Jimin I just puke-" He stammers, pursing his lips as Jimin eventually steals a kiss from him.

His tears were dry now, the fit subsided and it was only laughter and giggles together even if Jungkook's morning was off to a rough start Jimin always made it better. 

#bts emeto #bts sickfic #bts mpreg #pregnant!jungkook #caring!jimin #sick!jungkook #tw mpreg #tw emeto #if you don't like it avoid pls

[bbyjimni]

Our Night (M)

—

pairing: park jimin x female reader

brief description -you and jimin take the night back to a hotel, very intoxicated and very horny.

warnings/contains - daddy kink, ddlg themes, heavy making out, (slight) exhibitionism, groping, dom/sub themes, dom!jimin, sub!reader, shower intimacy, fingering

words - 1.8k

(hi so this is actually a snippet of something ive been in the midst of writing for a LONG time lolol also sorry for the weird spacing i write my stuff on Wattpad and it comes out weird on here 😭)

(if u guys like it ill eventually finish the full thing hehe)

—

"Jimin!" You yelped between kisses as he jokingly grabbed your breast. He giggled before eagerly pressing his lips back onto yours. The elevator door opened not too long before your make-out session grew hotter with more grabbing and groping.

"I can't help myself baby, you're just so irresistible."

After a night of dancing, drinking, and flirting with each other, you both decided to end this event on a pleasant note.

It took a few days for the sassy maknae to convince the others to let him go out with you tonight, also including a couple of chores to do as well (courtesy of Jungkook and Namjoon). However, it was worth it, you got to have a night with each other that you'll never forget. You definitely won't forget the way he looked when he first picked you up from your home either.

His black leather jacket and jeans sure as hell made him look like a dime piece, it was as if he was a gourmet meal for eyes.

You stumbled out, still attached to each other, and at least, tried to find your way back to your room. Although you shouldn't be doing something so uncouth in a public place, the both of you really couldn't help yourselves. His lips were plump and soft as if they were meant to be fooling with yours. You loved the way his tongue would intertwine with yours, the sweet taste of his mouth mixing in with yours. While trying to get to your room, you ended up ramming yourselves into a wall, your make-out was just that intense. You both drunkenly laughed about it, still keeping your lips close to resume your heated kissing.

"{name}, put your legs around me." He whispered in your ear, sending sensual chills through your body.

"You're too small Chimmy, you'll probably fall over."

"I don't care if you're small or have the biggest ass on the block, put your legs around me." Despite him being kind of a little guy (in your intoxicated eyes), you were somewhat scared of disobeying him, especially being drunk. Being pinned against the wall, you easily wrapped yourself around him, seeing him grin out of satisfaction. You slithered your arms around his neck and felt his hands grab your cheeks, caressing your thighs from behind. You were surprised he was able to carry you like this, maybe the muscles from his 2013 phase had stayed.

Bringing your lips back into a kiss, he fumbled his hand into his back pocket, making sure he had the room key there. He opened one eye to see where he was going and pulled it out, soon slamming you against a random room door.

He pulled away and panted, "Baby, do you know the room number?"

"321." Jimin looked behind your head and saw that the room number on the door was actually 319, meaning your horny attitudes most likely woke up or scared someone to death.

"Damn it, this isn't it." He stepped away and looked around, soon spotting your room. He carried you over, swiping the card and unlocking the door. You smiled at each other and locked lips once again, messing around with each other's clothing. You noticed the chilliness of the room, receiving an idea from the lack of heat.

"Chim Chim, it's so cold...Why don't we take this to the shower?" You playfully whined at him, getting a kiss from him.

"Anything for you, princess." He whispered in your ear once again, making you sigh from the arousal you were in. He kicked off his shoes and walked in the room a little more, finding a door to what was presumed to be the bathroom and opening it. He flicked the light on and glanced around the place, enjoying the layout, space, and the shower the most. You got down from Jimin and stepped out of your heels, unzipping your tight black dress and leaving the rest for him to take off.

"The rest is for you, daddy." You purred, making him smile devilishly. He took off his jacket and threw it on the floor, attacking you with kisses once again. He snuck his hands on your thighs, slinking them up the dress and becoming surprised.

"No panties for me, eh baby?"

You looked away and glimpsed back at him, putting your hands on the counter before getting involved in yet another heated kiss. While his tongue toyed with yours, he grinded up against you, making you moan softly between his lips. Jimin yanked the sleeves of the dress down your arms, exposing your voluptuous chest. He unbuckled his belt, forcing his jeans down to his feet and stepping out of them, all without breaking the kiss. You unclipped your bra and threw it to some random place in the bathroom, following up with taking off the rest of your dress, revealing your body to Jimin. He licked your lips and smiled under the kiss, soon pulling away and walking into the shower to turn on the water.

"Make it hot, Jimin. I wanna be sweating by the time you're done with me."

"Mm, I think I can do that on my own, baby cakes." You ran your fingers through your hair as Jimin turned on the water, sticking his finger under it until it was the right temperature. He beckoned his finger at you and walked back in, having you soon follow behind him. His hair flattened the moment he came in contact with the water, making him look maybe twice as attractive as he already was. You shut the frosted glass door behind you and attacked Jimin with more kissing, not even close to resisting his beautiful body.

While your lips danced so sensually together and you immersed in the water together, your hands laid on his toned stomach, handling the time and work he's put into his physique. His grip around your hips was tight, holding onto you as if you'd vanish as if he didn't.

All of a sudden, he turned you around so that he was facing your back. His hands travelled all around you, caressing and massaging your soft, wet skin. He took one hand and moved your saturated hair to the side, bringing his soothing lips to your neck and leaving little love-bites on you. You groaningly sighed as you felt his tongue on you. Although his mouth was warm and delectable, the heat of the shower overpowered him and made his tongue feel cold on you. He kept one hand still against your stomach, letting you hold his hand tightly.

"Do you like the way I touch you?" He whispered in your ear, grinding against you and feeling your skin from behind. His hands roamed your body, feeling every inch of your drenched silhouette. You bit your lip and furrowed your eyebrows as his hand came closer to your womanhood, already having sweet arousal pool at your entrance. He brought his small but pleasing, slender fingers to your lips, spreading them and rubbing your sensitive bud. The hot shower and Jimin feeling your body made you feel twice as hot and steamy as you should be, making you a hot and flustered mess.

Jimin grinned as he played with you, enjoying the sexy whines that escaped your lewd lips. He delved his fingers deeper, touching your tangy tasting liquids.

"You're so wet for me baby.."

"It's all because of you, daddy." You followed up with a moan as he pressed his fingers against you, sending surges of pleasure throughout your entire body.

The more he felt you, the more you felt yourself become soaking wet for him. Each time he spoke to you, you could hear the lust dripping from his tongue as much as you could taste it when you kissed him. The way you felt his length brush against you made you want to go insane, considering how badly you wanted it inside you. You wanted to please him with your body, whichever way you could. You wanted to make Jimin feel like his head was in a cloud of ecstasy, to make him feel things no other woman could do for him but for now, it was his turn.

With no warning, he slipped his fingers inside of you, making you bite your lip and rest your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes as you already begin to clench around his fingers out of eagerness. As he played with you, he became more and more excited by your sounds; the neediness in your voice gave him chills that seemed to be strong enough to give goosebumps even under steaming, hot water. He continue to press his lips along your neck, I littering it with love kitten licks and bites. Speeding up the pace of his fingers, he pulls away from your neck, whispering in your ear with his slurred, deep voice, "I can't f-fucking wait to be buried in this pussy.".

Just hearing him made your legs buckle down and your eyes almost roll to the back of your head, he was making you feel so euphoric. You couldn't tell if it was because you were drunk or he was just so amazing at pleasuring you but you weren't complaining. Out of nowhere, he curled his fingers upwards, making you cry out with furrowed eyebrows, your hips grinding against his hand.

"Please make me cum, daddy, I want it so badly..." You whine, feeling yourself come closer to a climax. Bringing your hand behind his head to feel him, you turn your head and needily kiss him, moaning nonsense against his lips. Enjoying the sudden boldness you brought upon, as he fucks you with his fingers, he presses his thumb to your clit and applies pressure, his other hand grabbing and squeezing one of your breasts. Slipping your tongue in his mouth, he nibbles it, opening his eyes only to see how easily you've fallen apart in his arms.

"Look at me, little girl. I wanna see how good my baby looks while she cums." He orders, rubbing your clit in a circular motion, knowing you're bound to let go soon.

You opened your eyes and looked up at him as if he had stolen all of the stars in the sky for you. His fingers had you feeling so weak, you could almost barely handle the knot that formed in your stomach, ready to let go and release its feeling of pure bliss.

"Are you gonna be a good girl and cum for daddy like he asks?"

"Y-yes, daddy, fuck- please make me cum!" He smirks at the way you beg for him, bringing his free hand down to your ass, spanking it as he dominates your mouth once more. While finishing up his little game, your walls clench hard around his fingers, your liquids covering them as you reach your climax, cursing and crying out. He slowed his fingers down before feeling how smooth your pussy became, collecting some of your arousal on his fingers, bringing them to his lips.

"You're such a good girl."

#jimin smut #jimin x reader #bts #kpop #dom jimin #sub reader #jimin x reader smut #park jimin #jimin fanfic #bts jimin

[hopewrld2]

Filter - JM

↣ Summary: After day 2 of the concert, you just couldn’t take it anymore. Your boyfriend’s song already had you weak in the knees when you first heard it, but the dance is what made you want him even more. After the performance you made an irritational decision, one that could get you both caught.

↣ Genre: Smut (with some fluff because why not)

↣ Paring: Jimin x Reader

↣ Warnings: Dom Jimin (sub for like 2 seconds), sub reader, potential of being caught, kind of public sex, daddy Jimin because why not, choking, squirting, rough rough sex (because who would I be if it wasn’t), oral (m receiving), deepthroating, cussing, impregnation kink because I'm a whore for it :) , hitting it from the back doggy style andddd I think that’s it...if I forgot something let me know :) now off to reading. 

↣ Word Count: 921 (thought that it would be longer but oh well)

↣ A/N: am i late to posting this...yes. do i care...kinda no. i was just rewatching day 2 of the concert and then holy shit bruh...purple is 100000000 jimin’s color (might be writing a my time one too for jk, depends when inspiration hits again...thank you guys so much for supporting my first smut (the savage love one) :) now let’s get it)

You watched in awe as your boyfriend was on the screen. His movements incredibly fluid and precise as he stared into the camera with so much intensity that you had to sit down.

When his bold move came on, and his legs moved slowly and then quickly, your eyes widened. He hadn’t allowed you to see him practice his solo because he said it was going to be a surprise, he insisted you sit out on yesterday’s performance of filter for reasons unexplained, but in reality he knew what purple on him did to you.

He was right, the wetness growing slowly, but surely, in your panties was a dead giveaway. You weren't even the type to take control, but this performance was doing things to you...tonight might be something new for the both of you.

The song ended and he ran backstage to greet you, his suit and hair still the same way they were in the performance. You gaped at him, getting even more turned on when you could see him up close.

His smile brought you back down to earth, "What'd you think?" He questioned lightly, obviously eager for your reply.

"What'd I think?!" You responded exasperatedly, hitting him on the chest lightly, "It was fucking amazing Chim you looked so freaking good."

His smile widened, catching up with his eyes. You didn't match his smile, too distracted on eyeing up your boyfriend.

Suddenly, you felt arms encase you from behind. Not even realizing that Jimin had moved at all.

You felt his lips brush against your ear, breath warming you. "I bet you're soaked aren't you?" He questioned, hands slowly roaming your body. His changes in atmosphere used to confuse you, but now you’re just used to it. He could go from smiley ChimChim to daddy in a second, and he always loved to make you remember that. You jumped when you felt his fingers on the hem of your jeans, turning around abruptly.

"Not here Jimin!" You hissed, glancing around to see if any of the staff had stopped to see your little moment. With this new angle, and your front pressing against his, you could feel his semi-hard lightly on your stomach and it took every ounce of your restraint to not go feral right then.

He groaned when you shifted slightly, "I suggest you start moving before I take you right here in front of everyone, just so they can hear how pretty you sound fucked out and screaming my name."

His full lips started placing wet kisses down your temple, headed for your neck. You knew at this rate, you would give in and give everyone in this room a show that could be even more memorable then what he just performed on stage.

Pulling away, you grabbed his hand, leading him into a meeting room away from everyone else. Time the door shut, his hands were all over you. Roaming every part of you in hurried motions. He kissed you feverishly, all parts of your sanity withering away quickly.

His cold hand found their way under your shirt, making you nip on his lip lightly causing him to moan in your mouth.

That was all it took for your willpower to exit immediately.

Your clothes were long forgotten as you struggled to get Jimin's suit off. You let out some profanities as you struggled more, causing Jimin to laugh and take over.

Time his shirt came off, you were meet with his taunt abs, your hands roaming them while pulling his pants down.

Lowering yourself to your knees, you came face to face with your biggest challenge. You've never been able to completely deepthroat him due to not only his length, but his girth too. But today, you were going to do it. He gave you a performance to remember, and now you’ll return the favor.

You gave the raging tip kitty licks, making Jimin's hand come shooting down to tangle in your hair. You stopped immediately lifting your mouth off of him, "Uh uh Chim, no touching. I'm in control."

His hooded eyes took you in, thinking how beautiful you looked trying to take control. He laughed internally, knowing that this "control" lasted for one thing and only one thing and that you would go right back to subbing when his dick was buried deep inside of you.

After he seemed to get the message, you went back to sucking him. The lewd sounds filling the small room, making you thankful that it was so chaotic outside due to the concert.

You glanced up and met his eyes which were filled with not only lust, but love as well. He let out a strangled groan as he closed his eyes, the feeling of his dick going all the way to the back of your throat for once was incredible. His hand came down to tangle in your hair, ripping you off of him while catching his breath.

Cocking your head sideways you looked at him, waiting for an explanation as to why the first time you ever deep throat him, he practically shoves you off of him.

"Holy shit," he breathed out, "that was incredible."

You gave him a small smile, which slowly turned into a frown. "If it was so great why did you take me off of you?"

His eyes bore into your own as he walked towards you, titling your chin up, "Because the only thing I want to cum in tonight is that pretty little pussy of yours baby."

That was all it took to get you back into your submissive state. Brain clouding with lust as you stared at him. 

The next thing you knew, you were flipped over on the table in the dim room, Jimin’s cock resting on your back as he leaned over and whispered in you ear, “I promise you that this is going to be more memorable than Filter.” 

You felt your arousal begin to drip down your thigh just with his simple words. Beginning to get embarrassed at how wet he can make you.  

Without hesitation, he slammed his cock into you, making you both release loud moans. “Oh my god Chim. Holy fuck.” 

He was ramming into you in record speed, the table scooting forward with the brute force of his thrusts. The lewd sounds filled the room, you could’ve sworn that you guys could be heard over the loud music filling the background. 

Taehyung’s performance started, Inner child being blasted into the background. Jimin didn’t slow down, even as your knees started to give out, he wrapped his hand around your neck and pulled you back into his chest. 

“Inner Child,” Jimin grunted, “How bout I fuck a baby into you hmm? You would like that wouldn’t you?” 

In your fucked out state, you couldn’t do anything but eagerly nod, not being able to form coherent sentences. You knew it was just words said in the moment, you having your birth control implant would prevent it from happened, but only Jimin could make such a touching song dirty. 

A familiar knot started forming in your stomach, and when you squeezed around Jimin’s dick, he knew you were close. 

“You’re close aren’t you? Getting ready to cum all over my dick?”

“Mhmmm” You moaned out, “Jimin- fuck- I’m about to-”

With one long pull out, and then a hard snap that knocked over a chair, you were cumming all over his dick. An unfamiliar feeling of wetness added. 

He fucked you through your high, cumming shortly after and releasing your throat. 

“Did you just-” He laughed lightly as you surveyed the situation, “And you said that I could never make you squirt.” 

You shook your head, resting your back against the table while Jimin placed everything where it used to be and got dressed. Giving you a sympathetic look, he helped you get dressed. 

“You won’t be able to walk will you?” He asked, trying his best not to smile.

You gave him a weary look, “Since when have I been able to walk after you’re through with me?” 

He chuckled, placing a kiss to your forehead, “It was worth the wait wasn’t it?” He questioned. 

You couldn’t help but sigh, “It most definitely was.” 

#bts jimin #bts x y/n #bts #bts smut #smut #jimin smut #smut jimin #jimin x reader #park jimin #daddy jimin #choking #sub reader #dom jimin

[fruitydiaz-archived]

that’s my boy

eddie slips up after a successful rescue on a call and, while looking at buck looking beautiful and overjoyed, says “that’s my boy” to himself. except chim, hen, and bobby are all there when he says it.

buddie, pre-relationship, sweet fluff, pining

2,184 words

AO3 link

—

That’s my boy.

Eddie doesn’t mean to say it. It’s not like it’s even a phrase that he thinks often — not in regards to Buck.

Okay, so maybe, every once in a while Eddie will look at him doing something that is so whole-heartedly Buck — like performing a rope rescue when an apartment complex is on fire, or risking his life to save his ex-girlfriend’s fiance because he made a promise, because he’s always ready and willing to fall on the sword for the people he loves, even after they’ve hurt him, (Eddie wishes he wouldn’t do that so often, actually, but he understands), or organizing a Christmas party with Athena and inviting his whole family because he knew how upset they were that he wouldn’t be spending Christmas with them, or building gingerbread houses with Chris and Denny — and being happy to do it nonetheless. Just occasional things like that that make Eddie pause and make pride swell up inside him and remind him just how much he loves this man — despite all of the stress and anguish he causes him on a regular basis.

Which, is also, not something he thinks about often. The love thing, that is. The stress and anguish — that’s constant.

But when they’re on a call and Buck is ripping his helmet off, wiping the sweat from his forehead, skipping after the ambulance as it pulls away, overjoyed that his on-his-feet thinking and bull-headed determination saved yet another life, Eddie can’t help it when he smiles fondly, shakes his head, and chuckles to himself.

“That’s my boy.”

He doesn’t really process what he’s said until he looks back up and sees Hen, Chimney, and Bobby all staring at him. Chimney’s stopped chewing on his gum, mouth hanging a little open, Hen’s frozen with one perfectly manicured eyebrow raised, and Bobby’s looking at him with that look he gets when another imaginary piece of some metaphorical puzzle that only he is privy to falls into place. He tends to look at Eddie like that often, especially around Buck.

Eddie just stares back at them, tilting his head to the side a little, and pursing his lips.

“Your boy?” Hen prompts eventually, an amused grin slowly spreading on her face. Eddie feels his cheeks warm but shakes his head in confusion.

“What? I didn’t say—” Chimney starts shaking his head violently, cutting Eddie off.

“Nope, nope, you definitely did say those words.”

Eddie opens his mouth to argue that no he didn’t otherwise he would remember and also he’s never once said those words about Buck out loud so, of course, he wouldn’t — but Bobby holds his hand up, silencing all of them. Eddie tries hard to convince himself that the smirk on Bobby’s face isn’t also amused, because he likes to think that Bobby’s above all that. He’s their Captain, after all.

“Alright, you guys. Let’s wrap this up, okay?” Bobby says gently, gesturing to the scene in front of them. Eddie nods, avoiding making eye contact with either Hen or Chimney.

He does sneak a glance at Buck, eventually. He can’t really help himself. Buck’s like a magnet for him. He’s pretty sure he’d be able to spot Buck instantly, in any crowd, on any day. It’s partially this itch he has, this need to know where the people he cares about are, at all times, just to know that they’re safe. But also, there’s just a natural gravity that Buck has. Eddie always finds himself being pulled closer and closer.

It’s golden hour and Buck’s leaning against a post on the side of the street, talking to Athena and Bobby, making exaggerated gestures with his hands as he relays what just happened to them, even though they were right there with him. His hair looks soft and tousled, like it always does when he pulls his helmet off at the end of a call. The sunlight is hitting it just so, illuminating the edges of it and making it glow golden, like a halo around Buck’s head. Warmth blooms in Eddie’s chest at the sight.

That’s my boy.

When he turns back to the scene Hen and Chimney are smirking at him again. He rolls his eyes, finishes packing up, and spins to jog back to the truck.

Eddie likes to make his home in denial. It’s an island that keeps him safe, keeps him away from all of the things that could hurt him — like the reality of his feelings.

He’s known for a while that he feels something for Buck — he’s just not always sure what that feeling is. The thing about his feelings for Buck is that...not only are they absolutely terrifying to him — but they’re also confusing. He doesn’t fully understand his feelings because he’s not sure they're anything he’s ever felt before, not all at once, at least. He wasn’t expecting this — not from Buck.

Eddie doesn’t let a lot of people get close to him. It’s just a thing that he developed in his childhood that got stronger over time, the more he experienced loving and losing people. You don’t let people close, you don’t get hurt when they leave. That’s a simple fact.

But Buck hadn’t listened to that. Buck didn’t care that Eddie was scared of letting him in only for him to leave — because for Buck leaving wasn’t even an option. He had fucked up once and he spent every single moment since doing his damned best to make sure Eddie knew that he was ride or die, with him ‘till the end of the line. And he meant it, Eddie knew that.

So it could be easy for Eddie to look at Buck and be grateful that he has a friend like that, a support system that, no matter how hard either one of them tried, they couldn’t fuck up. But Eddie’s never felt the way he feels about Buck for anyone, ever. He had close friends in his childhood, and they always said they would be together forever, but none of them were around anymore. What did they have to base their loyalty off of, anyway? It was never serious when they said it, it was kid stuff.

And in his adulthood, most of his friends were from the army. They shared a lot of experiences that nobody else would understand, and came a lot closer than your average friendship, given the circumstances, but none of them made Eddie feel the way he does about Buck.

Certainly, no one looked at Christopher the way Buck did, save for his own family, and that was enough to throw Eddie’s entire body into some strange whirlpool of emotions he rarely let himself get swept up in.

Chris was Eddie’s entire world. He wanted to protect him from every hurt imaginable, even when he knew he couldn’t. Sometimes that protectiveness led to him making mistakes — but he was a parent and that was bound to happen, and he had to learn how to adjust, how to step back, and let Christopher find out things on his own. He had to let him get hurt, sometimes, and then encourage him to get back up.

But the hurt Eddie wanted to protect him from most of all was the hurt of abandonment. He never wanted to let another person into his life again, not without knowing that they would stay.

And Buck? Buck would do anything for Christopher. He never even had to say it because Eddie just knew. He said it in all of his actions, the way he walked all day after the tsunami, bleeding from his arm, collapsing in exhaustion only after he saw that Chris was safe. The way he encouraged him to never give up, to find a way to do whatever he wants. He loves Chris, and that makes Eddie love him even more.

He’s loved people before. Even if he’s not one to say it often, not in those words at least, he recognizes it when he feels it. He loves his family, his parents, his sisters, his aunt, his Abuela — even when they’re overstepping his carefully set boundaries. He loved the guys in his unit. He loved Shannon, he loves Christopher. He loves everyone at the 118, the family he chose.

But Buck is something different. Buck is something he’s never felt before.

When he realized he loved Shannon, it was like a hurricane that came out of nowhere, rushing over him, drenching him in its rains, pulling him in every direction, and leaving him entirely breathless. She was a perfect storm of love and chaos. One that he doesn’t regret, but one that he’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to experience again. He’s not sure he could survive that kind of devastation again.

But Buck wasn’t anything like that, even though Eddie’s pretty sure that he should be, with all of his fierce love and reckless abandon. Eddie realized he loved Buck like watching a sunrise, slowly, gradually, growing warmer and brighter over time. He was a sight that made your chest ache from its beauty, one of those things that made you feel lucky to be alive, one of those things that made you feel like you were blessed to witness it.

He left Eddie feeling stunned and off-balance, but warm, and comforted at the same time. The thing about sunrises was that you could always count on them to come back around the next day. No matter what storms the night before brought, the sun was always there in the morning.

Buck made Eddie feel safe.

That’s my boy.

He’s packing up his gear in the truck when he spots Buck out of the corner of his eye, jogging towards him. He pretends to ignore him, ducking his head and smiling to himself as he shuts the door on the truck.

“Hey man, did you see that?” Buck says as he approaches Eddie. His voice is light and airy, like he’s a little out of breath from the jog over, which would make sense since he’s still got at least 70 pounds of gear on him. But he doesn’t look bothered by it at all. He just clasps his hands together and smiles at Eddie with that giant, overly pleased, and just on the verge of shy smile — the one he always shares with Eddie.

Eddie leans against the truck casually, crossing his arms and nodding at Buck, smiling.

“Yeah, I saw it. You did good, kid.” His heart constricts at the way Buck lights up at the praise. It’s times like these where he wants nothing more than to reach out and touch him, card a hand through his hair and then bring him in gently, tucking Buck’s face into his neck and holding him close, whispering all the words of encouragement he never got to hear when he was younger.

But he settles for this, standing at arm's length and keeping his praise to a minimum.

“We did good,” Buck corrects, punching Eddie’s shoulder lightly. “We make a good team.”

The team, Eddie knows, consists of Bobby, Chimney, Hen, Buck, and him. But when Buck looks at him like that, when he says things like that, it makes him feel like it's about just the two of them.

Buck’s matching his position, leaning against the truck now, looking down at Eddie with his flushed face and his sweet smile. It’s like they’re the only two people in the world. It’s an intoxicating feeling, so addictive that Eddie often wishes that he could just let himself get lost in it, soak up all of the love and attention that just radiates off of Buck, stretch out in the sunlight and just let it warm him all over, be utterly and unashamedly selfish with it. To relish in that love that he’s not always sure he deserves.

He opens his mouth, not sure what exactly he’s going to say next, when Hen appears behind him, patting him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Eddie, you and your boy ready to head back home or are you just gonna stand there looking pretty all night?” She shoots him a sly grin over her shoulder as she passes by them to climb into the truck. Eddie freezes a little at the teasing, not sure what he’ll say if Buck turns to him, tilts his head, and asks what did she mean by your boy?

But he doesn’t tilt his head in question at all. His eyes lock with Eddie’s for just a second and the corners of his lips twitch like he’s fighting a smile. Eddie feels his breath get trapped somewhere in his chest and then Buck turns away and disappears into the truck.

He hangs back for a bit, struggling to catch his breath again, nodding at Chimney and Bobby as they brush past him. Bobby pauses before he rounds the truck, looking back at Eddie with an amused smile.

“You good, Diaz?” He calls. Eddie looks away before nodding, waving a hand, and pulling the door open.

“All good, Cap.”

#okay i'm going to go workout now and then start work but here's something i wrote #everyone's being ANGSTY and i LOVE it but i just wanted to b swEET for a moment #and i love writing eddie in love with buck idk idk #soft boys #buddie #911 fic #911 fox #al talks #writing

[radiantroope]

Passed Around || JJ Maybank

pairing: jj x reader

mentions: john b, pope, kiara

requested: no

summary: everyone in the outer banks has their opinions of you. a touron with a smart mouth learns just how quick jj will come to your defense.

warnings: underage consumption of drugs/alcohol, swearing, violence, blood

author’s note: i just started writing randomly and this was the product, enjoy.

masterlist | add yourself to my tag list

* i do not own this gif! if it’s yours, please let me know so i can properly credit you! *

Of course, there was another party at The Boneyard. No surprise there. Summer or Winter, there was always a party. The amount of people that filled the beach always somehow managed to surprise you, especially when it was off season for the tourists. Sometimes you’d still get a couple; people visiting family who lived on the island for Thanksgiving or Christmas.

It was the beginning of December and you’d just arrived at the beach, already hearing thumping music and loud laughter. The brisk ocean air was much colder than you preferred as it came off the ocean. You were yearning for those hot Summer nights again.

You pulled the jacket you were wearing tighter around yourself and continued on your way down to your friends. Just as you hopped over one of the dead and forgotten trees, you heard a shout of your name. You looked to the kegs and smiled when you saw Kiara waving her arm.

As you approached her, you raised an eyebrow at the three kegs set up. Three, how did they manage to score three? You didn’t ask, sometimes you were just better off not knowing. You gratefully took the plastic cup John B passed you and quickly drank some of the bitter liquid.

“Rough day?” the curly haired boy raised an eyebrow at you.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes but ranted anyway, “My grandma is still here. She was supposed to leave after Thanksgiving and now my parents tell me she’s staying all the way through Christmas! If I have to listen to her talk about what college I should go to or about boys any longer, I’m gonna go insane!”

“Does- she doesn’t know about JJ?” Kiara asked with her brows furrowed.

“Oh, she does, but she’s in some alternate reality where she thinks I’ll marry a Kook and be a trophy wife,” you retorted with a sarcastic smile on your face, “My mom’s told her a hundred times that JJ and I are together and nothing will change that.”

You looked over your shoulder at the said blonde who was sitting in a circle with some other teenagers. You saw smoke pillowing through the air and were hit with the faint smell of weed. JJ’s cerulean eyes caught yours and he smiled, waving for you to join him.

“Go, we’ll catch up about your crazy grandma later,” Kiara said, smiling at you.

You smiled back at the girl and turned to walk towards your boyfriend, calling over your shoulder, “Love you, Kie!”

You and JJ had gotten together about nine months ago. Years of longing looks and lingering touches were driving your friends insane. How could two people be so oblivious? Everyone knew your hearts were set on each other, but the two of you were always too stubborn to admit it. Plus, you didn’t want to be the one to break the no macking rule.

One day at the Chateau it boiled over when one of your hookups over stayed his welcome. JJ woke up for the third morning in a row to find the guy helping himself to his stash. He lost it. He wailed on the poor boy and literally kicked him out the door. This resulted in you insisting you liked him and the blonde calling bullshit.

“How do you know how I feel, JJ? You don’t!” you’d screamed, stomping your foot like an angry toddler who’d just been told no as you tried to get your point across.

“Yes I do! Pope told me you’re in love with me!”

Yeah, Pope spilled the beans after you made the drunken confession one night. You swore him to secrecy, but that boy couldn’t keep secrets to save his life most of the time. You still to this day would never let him live that down. But how could you stay mad at him when it resulted in the best possible outcome? JJ was yours, and you were his, finally.

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” you flirted as you walked over to the blonde boy.

JJ smiled and laughed, shaking his head at you, “You’re rediculous.”

“But you love me,” you stated as you plopped yourself on his lap, sitting most of your weight on his thigh. His arm wrapped around your waist tightly and he pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek.

“Damn right I do.”

You watched as a blunt was passed around the group and listened in on the conversation, chimming in now and again. You took a few puffs yourself when JJ held it up to your lips. You weren’t a big smoker though. Half of the time it made you more anxious than it calmed your down.

JJ had gone to get you both refills on your beers but got distracted talking to Pope and John B. You took his seat and turned to watch him, smiling when he laughed and his eyes crinkled at the corners. His bright white teeth sparkled in the glow of a fire that was going. You watched as the breeze blew his cut off tank and you caught his muscles tense at the cold hair.

“So you and Maybank, huh?” a voice caught your attention and you whipped around.

A Touron, Dominic, who frequented the island this time of year sat in front of you. He had shaggy dark brown hair that was straight and fell around his face, barely touching his jaw. His eyes were a beautiful mossy shade of green. You probably would have hooked up with him in the past is he wasn’t known to be such an ass. He ran around with Rafe and his goons during the day and spent his nights on The Cut causing trouble. He was nicknamed “girlfriend stealer” after many-a-hookups that resulted in ended relationships.

“Yeah,” you responded blandly. There was no way in hell you were going to entertain this kid. He took pride in stealing people’s girls; you would not be one of them.

“You could do better,” Dominic remarked, an infuriating smirk growing on his face. You resisted the urge to slap it right off.

“Like you?” you scoffed, eyebrow raised. “Yeah, I’ll pass.”

“C’mon, Y/N, don’t act like you don’t want to. I remember the way you used to look at me.”

You clenched your jaw and pressed your lips into a line. You stared at him with a blank expression, the smirk on his face growing. He opened his mouth to say something else but was cut off.

“Everything okay over here?” JJ asked from behind you.

He’d seen the way Dominic was looking at you. He knew the game the little shit was playing, and it was a dangerous one. The group of teenagers in the circle you were sitting in looked between the three of you nervously. They all knew better than to push JJ, especially when it came to you. He was quick to fight - even quicker when it was over you.

“Yeah man! Just telling Y/N here she used to be a lot more fun before she got a boyfriend,” Dominic replied casually, shrugging his shoulders a bit.

You stood up and turned to face JJ, seeing that he’d handed your drink refills off to John B and Pope who stood behind him. He’d been anticipating this the moment he saw you two talking. You put your hands on the blonde’s chest and stared up at him.

“Let’s just go, J. It’s not a big deal.”

“Nah, I want to hear what he has to say,” JJ pushed your hands off his chest, eyes never leaving the brunette who was now standing.

Dominic snickered and pushed his hair back off his forehead, saying, “I heard she got passed around quite a bit. Rafe sure had a lot to say about her. Was hoping I could find out for myself.”

Low blow, asshole, you thought to yourself, feeling your stomach sink at the mention of the oldest Cameron sibling. You’d messed around with him long before you and JJ got together, Topper too. It put a rift between you and the Pogues for a while. They didn’t care who you slept with, as long as they weren’t Kooks, but you did what you wanted. JJ was the most upset. You were sleeping with the enemy.

JJ went to walk around you, ready to pummel Dominic into the sand. You grabbed the front of JJ’s shirt and pushed him back with all of your strength. You hated when he got in fights. You couldn’t watch. Most of the time he won, but when he didn’t, you had to clean him up. You tried to keep him out of them the best you could.

“Don’t, JJ, please,” you begged, pushing against his abs, “It’s not worth it.”

JJ’s eyes flickered down to yours, his cold gaze softening a bit when he looked at your pleading face.

“Wow, they weren’t kidding. You really are her bitch,” Dominic said through a laugh when he realized you were convincing JJ not to fight him.

“Shut the fuck up!” you yelled over your shoulder, pushing your boyfriend back once again.

It was useless, JJ managed to get past you, your hands grabbing onto his arms and shirt - whatever you could get ahold of to keep him back. John B grabbed your arm the second the blonde’s fist hit Dominic’s face. You looked back at your curly haired friend and he simply shook his head. Not even Pope moved, they were going to let the guy get his assbeat for talking about you like that. No one talked about you like that.

“Don’t ever talk about her like that again!” JJ yelled, arms swinging, “I’ll kill you, you hear me?! I’ll fucking kill you!”

You tried to shout your boyfriend’s name over the cheering from people watching the fight. He couldn’t hear you, still standing over Dominic who’d been knocked down. He landed blow after blow against the Touron’s face.

“Alright, JJ!” John B yelled, stepping forward.

“He’s had enough, man!” Pope added.

You breathed in deeply through your nose and closed your eyes for a second. As you opened your eyes, you screamed JJ’s name as loud as you could. It was so loud, everyone went quiet and their eyes turned to you.

The blonde froze, fist still pulled back mid swing. His anger fueled frenzy was over and he was brought back to Earth by your voice. He dropped Dominic, who was groaning in pain, into the sand by his shirt. His arm fell to his side and he turned to face you. He had blood trickling down from his nose but other than that, he seemed to be perfectly unharmed.

“Are you done?” you questioned, arms crossing over your chest with a raised brow.

JJ simply nodded in response and walked away from the boy he’d just seriously beaten. He approached you with slumped shoulders and sheepish expression, knowing you were going to scold him for getting in yet another fight. But how could he just stand there and let someone degrade you like that?

“Sorry,” he muttered softly and reached for you, slipping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you back towards the kegs. Kiara stood there, shaking her head as she had watched the altercation from afar.

“If he presses charges, you’re thouroughly fucked, you know that?” you asked him seriously. Though you brought your hand up and intertwined your fingers with his that was hanging off your shoulder.

The blonde boy nodded and took a cup of beer from Kie with his free hand. He downed it all in one go, grunting as he pulled the cup away from his lips. He gave it back for her to refill.

“I know you’re trying to defend me, J, but sometimes I wish you could just walk away,” you sighed and leaned into him, feeling a kiss against the top of your head.

“I’ll try to be better, promise,” he mumbled into your hair and when he pulled his head back you heard him laugh softly. He wiped his hand against your hair and when you looked up at him, he gave you an innocent smile. You saw the trail of blood leaving his nose was smeared and narrowed your eyes.

“You got blood in my hair, didn’t you?”

“Yup.”

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