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#thinking they're doing good doing what buck would want
evnnkinard · 2 days
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the first time after they have sex buck tries not to be too clingy. holds onto the following moments post orgasm where tommy's still on top of him, inside of him, and they trade slow, soft kisses, panting into each others mouths. lets himself run his hands across tommy's skin, down his back, over his sides, memorising. but bites back his whine when tommy finally pulls away. he hums softly when tommy kisses his cheek and murmurs, "i'll be right back," and ignores the urge to grab his hand and beg him to stay. lets him leave the bed and tries to focus on something else other than the way his skin immediately feels cold. tries not to feel disappointed. reminds himself that everybody has different needs, it's not all about him. instead, tries to summon the energy to get his own legs working again so he can get up, too.
and then tommy's back. there's a cloth, damp with warm water, swiping gently across his stomach, down his thighs, cleaning him. he can't help the sound that escapes him this time when tommy wipes over his hole, still sensitive, even with as careful as tommy is. tommy runs a hand along his thigh, soothing, apologetic, says, "sorry, kid. you'll regret it in about five minutes if we don't clean up now though, trust me," his voice is raspy, still sounding as thoroughly fucked as when he was in the process of actually fucking buck. buck tries not to preen.
and then tommy's throwing the cloth across the room and buck hears the gentle thump of it landing in the laundry basket. thinks, stupidly, 'score'. and then there's a kiss being placed on buck's inner thigh, and then his stomach, and then tommy's making his way back up buck's body, kissing his mouth. buck sighs, melts into the kiss. doesn't grab onto tommy's shoulder, the back of his head, like he so desperately wants to. lets tommy pull away again, though he doesn't go far this time, hovering over buck.
"s'okay. you- you didn't have to do that, though. i- i would've-" and tommy shuts him up with another kiss. he's smiling oh so softly when he pulls away, has his 'evan' expression on his face, as everyone else has deemed it. flicks his eyes over buck's face, searching, says, "evan. i wanted to, okay? i like looking after you. makes my hindbrain happy."
buck laughs, feels warm in the way he's come accustomed to feeling when he's with tommy, and tommy's smile widens, like he's accomplished exactly what he wanted to and then he's flopping down next to buck, close, so close that their shoulders, arms, thighs are touching, pressed lightly against each other, but he doesn't move to do anything else. a minute ticks by and buck wants to shuffle closer, curl his body around his boyfriends and have tommy's arms wrap around him, engulf him in that way that always makes him feel safe, loved. knows if he asked, tommy would absolutely oblige because he's so good, so amazing like that. doesn't ask. doesn't want to put tommy out. stays where he is, settles for the points of contact they're already sharing despite the ways his skin screams-
"evan," buck startles, doesn't think it's the first time tommy's said his name. rolls his head on his pillow and finds tommy already looking at him, eyes crinkled in amusement. wants to reach out and run his fingers along the lines, ingrain them into his memory. doesn't, but tommy does. reaches out with both hands, pulls at him, gently but firmly, "come on, get over here, i wanna cuddle," he manhandles and rearranges buck how he wants him, until buck's lying half on top of him. head tucked under his chin, one of his thighs thrown across his legs and buck has to remind his dick that they've just had sex and to calm the fuck down because fuck- that's hot, but now's really not the time. one of tommy's arms falls across his waist, tugging buck impossibly closer, like he'd tuck buck inside his skin if he could. buck wouldn't stop him. tommy's other hand comes to rest against buck's head, fingers occasionally moving to pet at his mess of curls.
and buck tucks his face further into tommy's neck, takes a breathe, and another, surrounds his senses with his boyfriend. clings, because he thinks it's okay this time. tommy's clinging, too. lips press to the top of his head, dropping a kiss there. hears tommy's soft, "you okay?"
"yeah. yeah, i'm okay. just- this- this is nice. i- i really like being close to you."
"yeah? good. i really like being close to you, too, evan."
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jakes3resin · 5 hours
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Honestly so intrigued by the idea of a role swap between Bucky and Gale when it comes to who took the London weekend pass and who got shot down first.
Gale convinces Harding to give both of them a weekend pass thinking that's the only way to convince Bucky to take a break, paint the town red in London until Bucky starts to feel better, but Bucky says no like Gale did. Gale still goes because he needs a break from missions, from base life, and, as much as he hates to admit it, from Bucky himself right now.
Bucky goes up like Gale did, and Bucky doesn't come back like Gale did.
Gale has a calmer time in London than Bucky, but he still sees the headlines about the 8th and the lost 30 bombers. The panic that runs through him would probably mirror the panic Bucky felt. The urgent need to know what happened, thoughts spinning as he tells himself that Bucky wasn't one of the men the papers say got shot down.
Gale's widow arc after escaping was characterized by desperation, a quiet bone deep desperation tinged by Gale's guilt at leaving Bucky behind. The pain that Bucky gave up his chance at freedom for him cut deep into him. There was some rage during the escape, but once he got to England, you could tell Gale's strings had been cut. His rage melted into grief and desperation. He held white knuckled to the hope, the delusion even, that Bucky was fine, he's always fine, he just had to stay for the men.
His grief after learning Bucky went down in a role swap would be closer to rage, I think. Rage at the Germans sure, but rage at Bucky mostly. Gale tried to get him to London, damn near begged him to come with him because he knew something was going to happen if he didn't get Bucky out of that cockpit.
Of course, the anger is just so he can hide how much Bucky's 'death' is killing him. He's good at hiding his emotions by slipping on a mask and burying them deep within himself, but everyone can see he isn't doing well. The grief and rage are just too much. Gale's slipping, and without Bucky, no one knows how to help him. This isn't the Major Cleven they know. This is the Buck without his namesake that none of them ever expected to see.
Gale would do as Bucky did. Leave London and demand that he be placed on the next possible mission. The pair are a bit too similar sometimes, and he'd want back in the saddle before he processed his emotions. He's back on base when everyone knows Harding didn't call him in from London. He's standing silently at the bar, not ordering a thing simply there because he's still so used to his routine with Bucky that nowhere else feels right. At least here he's with the men. At least here he can pretend Bucky's asking the bartender to fill up his flask. At least here he can be haunted.
No one knows how to handle Buck like this. They've never seen Buck like this with his emotions so volatile as his mask slips. Benny tries to talk to him, but Gale shrugs him off. Jack and Red both try to talk to him, but Gale simply asks when the briefing is. No one can get through to him.
Gale leaves behind Bucky's lucky deuce. He'd carried it for Bucky's sake, and now there's no Bucky to worry.
Oh but what if that's where the role swap ends? Buck still ends up at Stalag Luft III before Bucky, and it's the final nail in Bucky's coffin for Buck. Bucky isn't here. Gale's lost any hope he'd gained seeing Brady and Crank waiting at the fence. Even when Brady swears Bucky bailed before him, he grieves.
Everyone's sure that they're going to lose Gale now. You need strength and at least some measure of hope or fight to survive the camp, and Gale has none of that. He really did think that they'd be the last two left in the air when all of this was over. That dream doesn't matter when he's the only one left. He lost everything when Bucky went down.
Two days later, Bucky walks through the fence, and the heart that stopped beating in Gale's chest back in London finally starts up. Hope returns, and with it, his will to see both of them through this.
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aesthetictarlos · 2 days
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Adorable prompt by @shxyerahol : Buck and Tommy date night at painting with a twist. Buck is not a great artist and has a hard time keeping up with the instructor but Tommy is phenomenal (headcanon taken by the fact that Lou is a fantastic painter IRL).
I really liked writing this one, hope you like it too ❤️
Buck should've probably seen this coming, but when Tommy invited him to a date night at painting with a twist, he eagerly agreed without stopping to think of the implication of that nor the reason why Tommy was so enthusiastic about the idea of painting together.
Truth is, he loves spending time with Tommy, no matter what they do or where they go, and he's absolutely enjoying this date, too, but he's also struggling. The instructor is nice and definitely very good at her job, but Buck's having a hard time keeping up with what she says. Or rather, he understands what she says but struggles to do what he's supposed to, because he sucks at drawing and painting, and art is not his thing at all.
He's trying, okay? He's trying to follow her instructions and use the right brush and the right colour but he's pretty sure he's making a mess, even if the instructor keeps encouraging and complimenting him.
It's date night, so they're supposed to make complementary paintings and they can't see each other's paintings until the end.
Tommy's sitting opposite from him, their respective canvas in the middle, so he can't exactly see anything but his face, but he can tell that his boyfriend is perfectly at ease. He doesn't even ask questions to the instructor, he's lost in painting and there's a little wrinkle on the bridge on his nose that tells Buck that he's deeply concentrated.
It's a sight to behold, honestly, and Buck gets a bit distracted until the instructor prompts him to go on, giving him some advice. He's supposed to be painting a half-heart shaped wave, using the colours of the bi flag, and it's not that bad but he's not sure it's going to be nice either.
"I'm done," Tommy announces five minutes later, and Buck widens his eyes in disbelief.
"What? How's that possible?" He asks, frowning as he takes in his own painting. He's barely finished with the background. "I still have to paint the wave, you're cheating."
Tommy chuckles, tilting his head. "I'm not cheating, I'm done for real. You wanna see?"
"I wish," Buck says, rolling his eyes.
"You can, if you want," the instructor chimes in. "It's not really a rule that you can't see your partner's painting before you've done with yours, just something I suggest to make things funnier," she says, inspecting Tommy's canvas. "Besides, I think that your boyfriend here might be really helpful."
Buck is very, very curious now, so he stands up, rounds the table and– oh boy, Tommy has painted is a masterpiece. He's not an expert, but he can recognize a wonderful painting when he sees one, and Tommy's definitely is.
He's used the gay flag colours to paint the wave, and he's also added a lot of details that make it look real. He's stunned and speechless, and can't help but stare in awe at the canvas and then at his boyfriend.
"Baby, it's amazing. I didn't know you were so talented," he says, surprised. "You're an artist, and a damn good one."
"Uh– Yeah, I would call myself an artist. I never mentioned that but I– I paint in my free time," Tommy admits, smiling sheepishly. "I've started doing that a few months after I came back from my tour in Iraq, and it helped a lot. I've never stopped since then, it's something I really like and apparently I'm also good at that."
"You are," Buck says, squeezing his shoulder. "And it's nice that art is one of your hobbies. I'm so bad at it, but it's calming and it definitely helps to clean your mind."
"It does. It's the reason why I started painting in the first place," Tommy replies, and then stands up and pokes him in the ribs. "So, you could use some help?"
Buck chuckles, blushing as he nods. He sits in front of his canvas again, and lets Tommy guide his hand, his body strong behind his and his breath fanning the side of his face. He's even more distracted now, but he manages to finish the painting with Tommy's help and when they put their two canvases next to one another, Buck feels warmth spreading around his ribs. The painting is far from perfect, and Tommy's definitely better than his own, but it's theirs and he thinks it's wonderful.
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[A/N: I don't speak Spanish, so the conjugation was based off French. Forgive (and correct) any errors.]
Chris isn't one to brag, but he has a lot of friends. Like, a lot.
Not all of his friends are kids like him (some of them are old like his dad and Buck), but he's still kinda popular at school. He's not the most popular kid, though.
That would be Jesse.
Everyone think Jesse's, like, super awesome — 'cause he is. He always has the newest game for his Switch, he's the fastest kid in their grade, and he was the only one in their class to get all three ice cream scoops and toppings at the multiplication tables party. He's basically the coolest kid Chris knows.
And he invited Chris to his house to play.
To say that this was an honor would be an understatement. Dad and Buck are always telling him that popularity doesn't matter, and it's your "character" that's important. Chris thinks that's all fine — and true (because Dad and Buck know everything, so if they say something doesn't matter, then it doesn't) — but it doesn't change the fact that Jesse is the most popular kid at school. And he wants to be Chris' friend.
Dad has one of his super, really long shifts that weekend — something about covers (?) — so Buck agreed to stay over Friday night and drop Chris off at Jesse's in the morning. The drive over takes a lot longer than Chris would like, but it's not so bad because it means he and Buck can listen to an entire episode of a podcast about pollinators, though Buck says he doesn't care if wasps have a job to do — he's making Dad kill every one that gets in the house.
"Have you seen a wasp, Chris?!" he asks incredulously when Chris can't help but laugh at his obvious fear. "They're huge! One bite could kill me!"
Chris tilts his head back and laughs, clasping his hands together. For such a big man, Buck can be so silly sometimes.
"Oh?" Buck narrows his eyes in the rearview mirror. "You think this is funny, do you? Laughing at my pain, huh?"
Chris covers his mouth his hands, trying to stifle his giggles, but he's not very successful. "No."
"That's fine. This just means I can use you as a shield next time we have one at the house 'cause you're obviously not afraid of them."
This just makes Chris laugh harder. "No!" he cries through giggles. "I'm the kid; you have to protect me from wasps."
"Nuh uh. I'm a scaredy cat, remember? You have to hug me when we watch E.T., and now you get wasp body guard duty 'cause you're so much braver than I."
"E.T.'s not even scary!"
"Um, yes it is? You've seen what he looks like, right? Scary."
They pull up to Jesse's house a few moments later, and Jesse opens the front door before they even get out of the car.
"C'mon," he says, waving his hand for them to hurry up. "I have something I want to show you!"
"Jesse! Manners." A short round woman steps up behind him who Chris assumes is Jesse's mom.
Buck sticks a hand out to the woman when they get to the door. "Hi, I'm Buck. It's nice to meet you. Thanks so much for having Christopher over."
"Beth," Jesse's mom says, shaking Buck's hand. "And it's no worries; Jesse's been looking forward to this all week. We're happy to have him."
Buck opens his mouth, and Chris knows it's going to be grown up stuff like Chris' allergies and pick up time, so he tugs on Buck's shirt to get his attention.
"Can we go play now?" He pouts his lip in a way knows will make Buck forget about correcting him for being "rude."
"Yeah, yeah," Buck says with a sigh and runs a hand through Chris' hair. "Gimme a kiss, and I'll see you later, buddy."
Chris tilts his head to receive his forehead kiss goodbye. "Bye, Buck, love you. Please make tacos for dinner."
Buck's breath puffs against his face when he laughs before straightening back up. "Yes, sir. Tacos it is. Now go play — and be good. Love you."
Chris offers him a small wave before following Jesse inside. He can still hear Buck and Mrs. Jesse's Mom talking when the door closes, though he ignores it in favor of taking in the size of Jesse's house. It looked big on the outside, but the inside is even bigger. Hopefully Jesse will be down to watch a movie on the huge TV he spots mounted on the far wall.
"Why do you call your dad by his name?" Jesse asks as they walk through the living room to the backyard.
"Buck? Oh, that's because–" Chris cuts himself off, frowning. Why does he call Buck by his name? "I dunno."
He guesses it's because he can't call Buck "dad," 'cause Dad is Dad. (Sometimes Daddy, but not so much anymore 'cause Chris is a big boy, and only babies call their dad "daddy." Well, big boys also call their dad "daddy" after nightmares or when they're sad and want hugs, but those are special occasions and don't count.) Buck is, well, Buck.
But Buck is also like his other dad, isn't he? So shouldn't he call him something different? Before, when Buck was just his best friend, calling him his name was OK, but things are different now. They've been through a lot together, and Buck is more than just his best friend — plus he makes food better than anyone Chris knows. Maybe not Abuela, but close. So "Buck" isn't good enough, anymore.
He's not able to think about it much longer because Jesse shrugs his shoulders — he doesn't care enough about the question to be bothered by Chris' non-answer — and asks if Chris wants to see the dead snake he found behind his mom's rose bush the other day. Chris, never having seen a dead thing before, readily agrees.
Jesse's house is a lot of fun. They play outside for a while, looking for cool bugs, though Jesse's mom says they're not allowed to bring them inside. She eventually calls them in for lunch, which is sandwiches and mac'n'cheese. It's fine. Not as good as Buck's, though, and Chris wonders briefly what the difference could be — does Buck put extra love in Chris' sandwiches? — before Jesse offers to show him his Switch.
Jesse has a bunch of cool toys and gadgets — like, all of the ones Chris has seen on TV during commercials — and he's a really good sharer, so Chris gets to try them all. It's pretty fun, but he's tired by the time Buck comes to pick him up.
On the drive home, Buck puts on another podcast — this one about what Christopher Columbus was really like — and they listen to it quietly. Chris watches Buck from the back seat and thinks about Jesse's question.
Is it bad to call Buck his name?
He remembers one time when he tried calling Dad his name 'cause a girl on TV called her dad his name, and it made Dad, like, really sad. Not sad like he cried, but Chris could tell that it hurt his feelings. He'd spent the night in Dad's bed after that to cuddle, and he never tried to do it again.
Does it make Buck sad that Chris calls him his name?
"Whatcha thinkin' about back there, bud?" Buck asks, eyebrows furrowed in the rearview, giving himself what Chris likes to call his Wi-Fi lines.
Chris thinks about telling Buck about Jesse's question but decides not to. It's good to think about things before making a decision, and Chris doesn't feel like he's thinked enough.
"Can I tell you later?"
Buck nods his head. "All right, you let me know when you're ready to talk. Just remember that I love you, and there's nothing you can't tell me or Dad, OK?"
"I know; I love you, too. I'm still thinkin', though."
"And that's OK, too."
When they get home, Chris goes to his room to build his legos, while Buck continues dinner prep. Tia Pepa gave Buck a tortilladora as a surprise gift, so now Buck refuses to have tortillas that aren't made by hand in the house. Dad thinks Buck is being silly, but Chris doesn't mind it. It's fun to help Buck press the tortillas, even if it takes a while to make them all, and they taste the best in the whole world (except for Abuela's).
In his room, he doesn't actually build legos. Instead, he rips a piece of paper out of his school notebook and sits down on his bed, pencil against his chin. His teacher at school said sometimes it's better to draw out thoughts to help organize them, just like how he has to count sticks sometimes when he's doing math. Maybe this will help with the "Buck" question.
At the top of the page, he writes "dad" in big letters and underlines it, then he puts a bullet point underneath. Biting his lip, he hesitates for a second before writing "strong" in his neatest handwriting. Another bullet point.
"Fire fiter."
"hansum."
He taps his pencil on the page. What else?
"Loves Chris and Buck."
"Loves Abwella."
"Loves Tia Pepa."
"Funny."
"Likes to wach fiteing"
"Hates Hildy."
"Best at pushing the swings."
Looking over his list, he counts how many bullet points he has under his breath. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, 10. Ten things about Dad that make him a dad.
He flips the page over and writes "Buck" in big letters and underlines it. He puts down 10 bullet points down the page and doesn't wait to write down the first several points.
"Strong."
"Fire fiter"
"hansum."
"Loves Chris and Dad."
"Loves Abwella."
"Loves Tia Pepa."
Those are all the same, but Dad and Buck can't have the same lists because Dad is Dad and Buck is, well. That's the question, isn't it?
Chris stares at the page, thinking hard. What are things that make Buck like his dad, but not his Dad?
His pencil hovers above the page for a second before he nods and writes his answer down.
"Cries alot."
But he doesn't cry a lot because he's sad, though, right? It's a different type of crying, the kind that makes Dad's eyes crinkle in a smile, even though his mouth doesn't move.
He adds another point.
"Silly."
Buck also likes to read books with Chris, and not all the books are adventure books. Sometimes they're books with the author's purpose to inform (just like he learned about in school), and Buck also puts on learning podcasts in the car. That has to mean something.
He writes "smart."
OK, just one more. What should he write, though? It's kinda funny to think that he knows Bucks so well, just like Buck knows him, but he can't think of all the things he knows when he wants to. Dad says he and Buck are starting to forget things 'cause they're old. Maybe Chris is getting old, too.
He takes a deep breath through his nose and hums when he can smell dinner cooking. Buck is so good at cooking. He wishes Buck could move in so that they could always eat Buck's food.
Oh! That's a good point.
"Good cooker."
There, that's 10 things that make Buck his dad.
What now?
Before he can continue think-writing, Buck calls him for dinner.
"Wash your hands, buddy," Buck says when he enters the kitchen.
Chris shakes a finger at him. "En español, por favor."
"Ah," Buck says, shaking his head and smiling, "sí, sí. Lava tú manos, mijo."
A few months ago, Abuela had made an offhand comment that Chris' Spanish wasn't very good anymore, and Dad had kinda freaked out, just a little. From what Chris understands, he feels like he's done a bad job teaching Chris because they usually only speak English at the house, though Chris doesn't feel like this is all Dad's fault. Mom hadn't even known Spanish, and Grandma and Abuelo speak English with him, too.
But now Abuela and Tia Pepa only speak Spanish when he's with them, and Dad made it a rule that they speak only Spanish during meals. As a result, Buck is learning Spanish, too. (Though, apparently, he already knew some because he used to live in Peru, but he had a funny accent that's only now getting better. It used to make Tia Pepa laugh to hear him speak.)
Just like Chris knew it would be, dinner is delicious. He's unable to fully enjoy it, though, because he's still thinking about dad-Buck. What's he supposed to call him?
Buck must notice that he's distracted because, unlike usual, he lets Chris get away with answering only a few questions about his play date. The rest of the meal is spent in comfortable silence.
"Ayúdame a lavar los platos," Buck says, collecting their plates. "Luego, lavate y acuéstate."
"Will you read me a story?" Chris asks and shrugs at the look Buck gives him. What? Dinner's over.
He spends his time in the bath thinking some more. What are other names to call a dad? Chris is only aware of two, and it would be too confusing to have to have Dad and Daddy when sometimes Dad is Daddy, too. What else is there?
It's not until halfway through his bedtime story — a chapter book about a porcelain rabbit named Edward — that it hits him. Of course! It's so obvious. How could he have not thought of it earlier?
Buck puts the book aside, marking their page with a bookmark Chris got from the Scholastic Book Fair a month ago, and tucks the covers under Chris' body, pressing a firm kiss into his forehead.
"Buck?" Chris asks before Buck pulls away completely.
"Yeah, buddy?"
"I'm ready to talk about what I was thinking about."
"Oh," Buck says, resettling on the edge of Chris' bed. "OK. What's up?"
"Well," Chris starts but then pauses, biting his lip. He sends Buck an unsure look. What if Buck doesn't want him to call him anything but his name? What if he gets mad? Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, after all.
Buck runs a soothing hand through his hair, though, and it makes him relax. "Whatever you have to say, buddy, I promise you it's gonna be all right. If it's a problem, I'll do everything I can to help fix it, OK?"
Nodding his head, Chris releases a breath. This is Buck. Buck loves him, and he loves Buck, and it's going to OK, just like Buck promised.
He decides to say it all at once:
"Jesse asked me why I don't call you 'dad,' and I didn't know what to tell him 'cause you're my dad, but Dad's Dad. A-and I remembered that it made Dad sad when I called him his name, and I don't want you to be sad that I call you 'Buck,' but I wasn't sure what I should call you, but I think I know now."
Buck had a really strange look on his face. His face was red and his eyes were really wide (so wide, Chris was a little afraid they might fall out) and wet, like Buck was going to cry.
Oh, no.
Was Buck upset? Is he going to cry because of what Chris said? Oh, no.
Before he could get too nervous, though, Buck bent down and gave him a huge, squeezing hug, pressing kisses on his face and hair. Chris giggled when it tickled.
"You can call me whatever you want, buddy," Buck said, leaning back but not releasing Chris. "I love you like you're my own son, and that won't change, even if you want to keep calling me 'Buck.'"
"I don't want someone else to ask me, though. I don't like it that they might think you're not my dad."
"OK, what would you like to call me?"
"Well, Dad's 'dad,' and I don't know any other words in English to call you, so I thought, maybe, I could call you 'papí,' 'cause me and Dad are hispanish."
"Hispanic," Buck corrects gently, smiling at him. "And I think that sounds perfect. Thank you, Christopher. I don't think you know how much this means to me."
"I love you, Papí."
"I love you, too."
The next morning when Chris comes down for breakfast, Dad's already at the table, drinking a cup of coffee, while Papí scrambles eggs on the stove.
"Dad!" he says, rushing over to give his dad a hug.
Dad stands and picks him up under his arms, swinging him around before squeezing him in a hug.
"Hey, mijo," he says with a big smile. "Papí was just telling me about you two's conversation last night."
Chris picks his head up from where it's resting on Dad's shoulder and sends him a look. "Is that OK? You're still Dad, but Papí's also my dad and I thought–"
"Hey," Dad says gently, running a hand up and down his back, "it's all good. You're right; Papí is like your other dad, and I know he loves you just as much as I do, and that's a whole, whole lot. We're family, no matter what, and it's good to use words that fit that."
"Yeah," Chris agrees, snuggling back into his dad's arms. "We are family."
So, yeah, Chris had a lot of friends, and some of them were old. But he also had two dads, and that was even cooler than any of Jesse's toys.
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bucksdaffy · 3 days
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https://www.tumblr.com/bucksdaffy/750482450750308352/i-mean-i-think-its-fair-to-ask-what-show-yall?source=share
Okay, let's talk about development. Buddie shippers love to throw shade at Tommy. So, quick question: it's been 5 years now, where is Eddie's character development? Since Season 3, he has been suffering because of his wife and has run away from a new relationship. He's in the same place as in Season 7. The truth is, Buddie shippers don't care about Eddie's character. They see Eddie as an extension of Buck. Buck manages to get some self-improvement. We can see his changes from Season 1 to now. Eddie? They don’t care; they're too worried about karaoke scenes and their only concern is to make Buddie canon
Sorry, that annon got me so nervous
truth be told, the show favours buck, and eddie is often neglected in terms of development. i must admit i actually saw some eddie-leaning bobs express frustration about this early on when it was revealed that a gay eddie arc was under consideration before tim and co ultimately decided on a bi buck storyline. but their voices were pretty drowned out by the constant yapping of how the show could make buddie canon, and now it's hard to see anything else.
i think you're right in saying bobs don't care about eddie as a character. but i'd even go so far as to say they don't care about buck either. superficially? sure because they both are part of the ship they love. but in reality? i wouldn't be so sure about that.
because the thing is they don't seem to think about buck and eddie as separate individuals. they always make one's storyline about the other. there is no buck without eddie and no eddie without buck in their eyes.
when you love a character, i think it's only natural that you want them to be happy. but when you love a ship more, your brain is wired to believe that the only way for them to be happy is if said ship ends up together. i don't want to condemn anyone for their feelings and choices because it's everyone's right to enjoy what they want to enjoy. you can't force anyone to change their view on that. i just wish they admitted they are not actually buck defenders or eddie defenders – they are just full-on buddie shippers, and that's it. don't pretend you care about them as individuals because it's obvious it's not true.
bobs don't care that buck is now in a happy relationship with a man who treats him as his equal, doesn't glorify him, understands what it means to be a firefighter, supports him, and makes an effort to be there for him when he needs him. they don't care that he is good for buck right now. they want tommy gone because he stands in the way of buddie canon (does he really? not the fact that eddie is canonically still very much heterosexual?), and because the audience seems to enjoy him much more than they anticipated. and they don't even care about an amicable break-up anymore – i saw some bobs say they want tommy dead. now you can't tell me you care about buck if you wish for his love interest to die. it's fine if you don't like tommy and if you personally think buck would be happier with someone else. let's agree to disagree and move on. but when you wish to seriously traumatize (one of) your favourite(s) character(s) in order for your ship to become canon? that just shows where your priorities lie, and i can guarantee that most people will disagree with you.
when it comes to eddie, he doesn't have the happiest storyline right now, and hasn't for a while. but if/when in s8 or some later season (provided they get renewed for more) he gets the development he deserves, and finally finds someone who he truly likes (and that someone isn't buck) and treats right, or perhaps decides that being single is fine and lets go of the pressure to be in a romantic relationship, do you think they'll be happy for him? i highly doubt so. they'll still push for buddie canon, not taking into account the individual characters of the story and their needs. what matters is that they get what they want, and everything and everyone else can go to hell.
if that is your stance, i personally think you should just quit watching the show and move to ao3 full-time for your and everyone else's own good. tim and co will not make buddie canon just because you want them to. it has to make sense for both buck and eddie individually first. and right now that is not the case for either of them.
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shaunashipman · 16 days
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I've just had the best thought. so tommy arrives having saved chimney, buck kisses him, most ppl are too focused on chimney and Maddie, but the buckley parents see, and you know they're trying!! they really are!! so later on, buck's off helping maddie with something and the buckley's see tommy standing off to the side and go introduce themselves, cause they're understanding!! it's been a hectic day, buck would have obviously introduced them immediately if things had gone to plan. and then during the conversation tommy just innocently says "I'm really glad evan invited me" or something, and the buckley's are trying dammit!! so margaret just gently goes "oh he doesn't like being called evan, he prefers buck" and now tommy's confused, he knows everyone else calls him buck, but evan never corrected him, never made it seem like he had a problem with it.
then buck sees them and rushes over to save tommy, and since tommy obvs likes directness and besides he got the impression from eddie earlier that evan doesn't have the best relationship with his parents, he just says "hey evan" and the buckley's wait for buck to correct him and he doesn't! he just smiles and ducks his head and makes some proper introductions and the buckley's have to stand there and deal with the fact that this man who's known buck for 2 months is allowed to call him evan when they, the people that gave him the name! aren't allowed to
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tchotchkez · 15 days
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damn y'all work really does got me Tired About Eyeballs
#living the optician in training life#I am literally so tired#human interaction at a new job is especially draining#I know I'll get used to it soon but GODDAMN man#some folks are just so skeezy#no you cannot have free trial contacts when your prescription expired 4 years ago and you haven't even been in for an exam#why not? because you are Stupid and if you fuck something up while wearing the expired prescription and we gave it to you#then your dumb ass will blame us and we will be sued#it may be a prescription for your eyes but IT IS STILL A MEDICAL PRESCRIPTION THAT YOU MUST RECEIVE FROM A DOCTOR#you can't go to your doctor and ask for medicine for an illness you had 4 years ago#so why would you expect different from us?#shit changes in 4 years#the audacity of some if these ignorant entitled fuckos#and we have a really affordable basic deal on an exam and two pairs of eyeglasses!#70 bucks for the whole shebang!#it's almost always better than what insurance covers!#and then people want to get all the add ons and special materials and go full on surprised pikachu face when it's not the same price anymore#they're called add ons because they ADD ON#they are not usually necessary unless you live a certain lifestyle that makes them worth the investment#but if you need something affordable in order to see and function and not end up killing yourself driving#then the basic plan is an insanely good and affordable deal!#i used the very same deal prior to being hired!#i have my main glasses and a whole ass backup pair#and some people just#do not get it#they think they can get something ~special~ or that their insurance just HAS to be better bc it's insurance#please you guys learn to think freely and critically#okay rant over#tate talks#work tales
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thegoldenelite · 10 months
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It would be sooo interesting...to me if the bucks won the tag belts again. Just imagine the bucks bring back the tag belts for the rest of the elite to see. To win the belts off of the team, Kenny and Hangman lost the belts to and how their tag team fell apart right after that match. I want it to bring back old feelings and memories(good and bad...mostly bad lol). I want hangmega to be sooo weird and jealous about the bucks having the belts, hahaha. But most importantly, I want it to boil over, and I want bucks vs. hangmega 2 HAHAHA.
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bratbby333 · 2 months
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gamer!bf sukuna drabble
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·:*¨༺ nsfw mdni ༻¨*:·
gamer!bf sukuna who is always sat at his desk, shooting at something
gamer!bf sukuna who will lose track of time and play for hoursss, not even acknowledging your existence until you interrupt his game play with dinner
gamer!bf sukuna who buys you your own gaming set up after catching you playing on his computer when you think he isn't home (he positions your new monitor and gaming chair right next to his)
gamer!bf sukuna who laughs in your face when you ask if he wants to play minecraft with you (how dare you recommend something that isn't violent? silly little thing. do you even know him?)
"so childish... why the fuck would i play that?"
gamer!bf sukuna who feels bad after you pout at him for making fun of you, reluctantly agreeing to play fortnite (the tamest game he'll play)
gamer!bf sukuna who is never not yelling at someone through his headset
"you stupid fuck! ask your mother how my dick tastes"
gamer!bf sukuna who loves when you pull up a chair to watch him play
gamer!bf sukuna who let's you sit in his lap, the controller in your hands with his hands over yours, pushing the buttons for you... the elated grin on your face when you finally kill someone makes his dick hard
"baby! i did it! i got him!" "that's my good girl, now let me reward you"
gamer!bf sukuna who loves that you play animal crossing at your desk next to him while he plays cs:go and valorant, you eventually put on your noise canceling headphones because he won't stop screaming
"what the actual FUCK was that? you're trash. GET OUT OF MY LOBBY"
gamer!bf sukuna who finally agrees to play minecraft with you after weeks of begging, enjoying it more than he thought he would (the face you make when he finally says yes causes his heart flutter just a little bit... but he'll never tell you that, constantly groaning at how boring it is, but playing it with you for three hours)
he runs around killing creepers and skeletons to quell his homicidal ideations instead of helping you build a house "why the hell would we build a fake house when we're literally sitting in our real one?" so fucking sassy for no reason he'd run around collecting a mob of enemies instead, luring them into a pit before sealing it off and dumping a bucket of lava on them, laughing as they slowly burn to death...bro is insane i stg...
gamer!bf sukuna who let's you wear his headset while he plays a 1v1 in a custom lobby, laughing at his opponents obvious anger and frustration thinking they're losing to you (COD is so misogynistic, and sukuna is thoroughly amused when he gets to put them in their place on your behalf)
gamer!bf sukuna who beams with pride when you start picking up on gaming terms
"that guy sucks, he's just camping", you say, brows furrowed in annoyance. "who the fuck did you learn that word from?" "who do you think i learned it from, dumbass?" you retort, a taunting smile on your lips. he just grins, "god, you're so fuckin' sexy. but drop the attitude before i fuck it outta you."
gamer!bf sukuna who attempts to teach you how to play call of duty, battlefield, and cs:go
"you'll get better, doll. just keep tryin'"
gamer!bf sukuna who refuses to admit that he actually enjoys playing minecraft with you, hoping you'll suggest to play it first
gamer!bf sukuna who looks down from his monitor to see you kneeling under his desk, head between his legs, sucking him off while he's on discord talking to his friends; tangling his hands in your hair, biting the inside of his cheek when you deepthroat him unexpectedly, his hips bucking off his chair. "you dirty fuckin' girl, it's like you want them to hear" he moans out. his friends erupt in laughter after hearing him, but he doesn't want you to stop. exhibitionist!sukuna has entered the chat
"you can stay and listen if you want, at least im gettin' some unlike you virgins"
gamer!bf sukuna who fucks you rough when he loses a game
"god you're so fuckin' tight for me" he groans, his grip tight on your hips. he looks down to watch your pretty pussy suck him in. you squirm, his cock burying itself deeper and deeper inside you with every trust, whining as he pushes your head into the mattress, his strokes unrelenting. "uh uh. don't move...stay right fuckin' there n take this dick, brat."
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
author notes: hehehe...this was super fun to write. if you have any requests, send them here! if u wanna be added to my anon club, drop an emoji with ur submission and ill add u to my pinned post ☺︎
i've already written longer, smut-filled stories of gamer!bf sukuna,,u can read them here and here and here
thank u liking, commenting, and reblogging...it makes me kick my feet n giggle when i get the notification ♡
© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.
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grimrester · 27 days
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i am really so sorry to continue harping on about the watcher entertainment streaming service. but this kind of stuff (internet content as a business & marketing it as such) is truly my obsession, and i think i will implode if i don't talk about some of the takes i'm seeing.
i'd like to emphasize again i don't have strong feelings about watcher either way. i like ghost files, i watch mystery files sometimes, i watched worth it back in the buzzfeed days. i don't watch any of their shows religiously.
anyway, here's the main things i keep seeing crop up and my thoughts on each:
"watcher has 25 employees they have to pay, and employing people in this economy is good, so we should be banding together to pay them."
employing people is good if you currently have the capacity to pay them. i checked watcher's linkedin page, and many of their employees were hired within the last year or two. if they hired people they cannot pay with the business model they had before, something is seriously wrong with their internal bookkeeping/decision making. it means they either didn't know they couldn't pay these people long term, or they did know and were content with risking newly hired employees' livelihoods on a huge content pivot in the next year.
of note is that none of their employees' titles have anything to do with managing the finances of the company. they are the size of a small business but have no one aside from the figureheads of the company in charge of their finances.
this is the kind of company decision making that leads to downsizing and layoffs, which can be devastating. but you know what's worse than laying off a portion of your staff? laying off everyone because your business is going under.
"not everyone can afford the subscription, but those who can should pay it to support the watcher team."
no. $6/month for a couple hours of content (depending on what shows you actively watch and the natural fluctuation of their release schedule) is a fundamentally bad value. i can pay that much for a few movies on amazon. i can pay that much for dropout, if i want to support a smaller business instead.
and to be totally frank, even if people do sign up, i don't think they'd get enough to compete with the amount they get through patreon/sponsorships. and the fact that they didn't know how many of their subscribers would realistically sign up is a bad sign.
a pretty good conversion rate of free to paid subscribers of a service or content is 3% (usually accomplished through a free trial). given the very poor reception of the announcement, let's say about 1% of their 3 mil youtube subs pay for their service. that's 30k people paying for their new platform. that's $180k a month in their pocket.
(they currently only have 12k subs on patreon so we are being generous here.)
a sponsorship deal (based on my googling, i have less direct experience with this) is anywhere from $10-50 per 1000 views. they've gotten about 1 mil views on their last few videos. 3 mil subs is nothing to shake a stick at, but let's say they're on the lower end of the payscale at $25 per 1000 views. that's $25k a video, $100k a month if they release 1 video a week. their lowest patreon tier is 5 bucks, so even if all their subs are at that tier, that's another $60k, so $160k total. it's entirely likely they're bringing in much more than that when you factor in merch, adsence, etc.
did anyone on their team crunch numbers on how many people would need to sub to make the switch worth it? did anyone do market research on how many people they could convert to paid users? because if not, if they really didn't have a game plan for this, the subscription service was always doomed to fail.
"this was their only option to continue making the content they want to make, with the production value they want."
i watched their announcement video. a key point in that video is that they have done sponsored videos and that's what used to pay for their content, but they did not like the amount of creative control the sponsor had over the content.
look, i get that's no fun. we'd all love creatives to be able to make whatever they want. but when you are a small business with a team of employees relying on you, you have to think about making money, sometimes at the cost of creative liberties.
and they had so many other options to make money for the projects they want to make without jumping to a subscription platform.
they could have started actually promoting their patreon, and maybe done some restructuring of the tiers. why not a highly produced, special series just for patreon members? or a special high-budget episode of each series, while the main series is lower budget?
bite the bullet and continue taking sponsorship deals on some less-produced shows, while axing sponsorships from the ones the crew feels more passionate about.
schedule larger, blowout-production shows only when they can be afforded. this is what Notorious Amongus Guy streamer jerma does. he saves up for big productions like his baseball or dollhouse streams, so he can really get creative with them.
they had other options and they've tried very little, especially when you compare them to other content house business at similar scales. try guys and good mythical morning both put out significant content with significant staff, and have had to diversify their income streams with auxiliary products, shows with widely varied levels of production, etc. but it seems to be working for them. watcher has merch and that's about it, and seems to only want to increase the production quality of ALL their shows.
really, all this just boils down to a terrible business decision. it's hard to say if the watcher team is working with a consultant or anyone outside of their team, but they certainly don't have anyone internally who is experienced with running a business like this. to me, it seems very much like they got in a room together and did some extremely optimistic income ballparking with no research behind it.
and that might have been fine for three dudes running a channel alone, but if they're a business, they have to start making decisions like one.
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nutmeggery · 9 months
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I need Neil Gaiman to know that Good Omens 2 made me feel emotions I haven't felt in nearly a decade.
When I heard there was going to be a Good Omens 2 I was looking forward to it, of course. I just wasn't expecting it do anything super special to my emotions. I was sure I'd enjoy it, though. I really enjoyed s1.
But, for the last few years, I watched shows and afterwards basically thought well, that was fun, and I quickly moved on and didn't think much about them. There was only about 3 shows in the last 5 years that had made me feel truly emotional and stayed on my mind to the point where I felt like I needed to engage in fandom for a while. (Good Omens 1 was one of them.)
I wasn't spoiled by the leak. I never even knew there was a leak. So I had no idea what was coming in s2. And oh boy...
See, I'd watched Our Flag Means Death, a show where you don't expect the lead characters to kiss, because, well, that never happens in these types of shows, right? And this is important because when they did kiss, it felt like a door that had been locked with just about all the high security locks in the world had suddenly, inexplicably, been opened. Something switched inside me. It took me months to understand what it was, but when I thought about Good Omens before s2 came out, I realized what it was.
I would never truly enjoy a bromance they're-only-queer/in love-by-your-own-interpreation story ever again. Stories where nothing is confirmed, just subtext that anyone who doesn't want to see it can easily deny and mock those who wish it was more.
While it was clear that Crowley and Aziraphale cared a lot about each other in s1, and were probably in love, it was still just a fun ship for fans to play with in fanfiction and fanart. Do they love each other? Oh sure. In what way? Well, that's up to interpretation. Ok, cool. But it's not quite Our Flag Means Death, is it?
Then I watched Good Omens 2. And from episode 1 I saw my favourite Angel and Demon duo love each other. And I was having the best time. I hadn't had such a good time watching a show in a long while. It was not only right up my alley, it was an alley I wasn't even aware was my alley until I saw it. I enjoyed seeing the old characters, the new characters. Oh, I was wonderful.
It was clear to me that, of course Crowley and Aziraphale love each other, are IN love with each other, showing it in their own way. And I wasn't expecting it to be THIS obvious.
And then when the kiss happened, I couldn't believe it. I covered my mouth with both hands and gasped and sat up straight in my seat. I had never expected it--the heartbreak it added to the already heartbreaking scene--it rewired something inside me.
It was like my emotions had been locked up in a stall like a horse for so, so long, and now the gate had been opened, the stable door kicked down, and the horse was running out onto the large pasture into the daylight, bucking and kicking up grass. Oh my god, I have to take a few minutes to process that entire 6 hour marathon of emotions.
And by a few minutes I meant a few days.
More than a few, actually.
I didn't need a kiss to understand how much they loved each other, but I did need the kiss to understand how intense and heartbreaking their separation is for them after everything.
But more than that, the kiss broke a barrier. They really did it, I thought. They really dared.
Aziraphale and Crowley aren't human males, no, but they're played by male actors. And that is significant. That makes the kiss significant. In the world we currently live in.
Weeks later, I'm still obsessed with the show, re-watching s1 and 2, reading the book again, listening to the audio drama. And I'm on tumblr, seeing people's posts and art to somehow sate my hunger for a s3 that doesn't exist (yet).
And I'm having a wonderful time.
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diejager · 5 months
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reader who still tries to get her mom to know whats happening to her, what they're doing to her, but her mom refuses to notice. reader getting so sad about this and konig/horangi seeing a chance of make her feel even more helpless. könig who smirk when he sees reader crying again because her mom doesn't even want to listen that her husband is being weird with her daughter :( horangi cooing in fake sympathy while he brutally fucks her that her mom will never listen to her, that konig is much more important to her mom than her. anyway i think they are sooooo sick and twisted every opportunity they have to make her feel bad and helpless they will take advantage of! she cant ever escape them >:)
Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, STEPCEST, age gap, spanking, dracryphilia, spitroast, creampie, unprotected sex, PinV, rough sex, degradation, condensation, tell me if I misse any.
Every attempt to bring to light their obsession and disgusting acts are met with roughness punishment, their jarringly, cruel chuckles and the mercilessness of their rough hands. König did most of the punishing with Horangi as his accomplice, holding your feet down on your bed while you were laid over König’s lap, his wide and hot palm soothing your naked ass. He was your stepfather, it was only natural that he did the reprimanding, scolding his baby for causing trouble for him and his friend.
He always smoothed the skin before landing a hit, your ass jostling with every hit that had you jerking and hissing, before he smoothed it over again. Spanking you was his go-to punishment when you acted out, pain was a better deterrent than pleasure and bribes were, you reacted to it more strongly than a good and hard fucking. He’d land one hard and two gentler ones on your left cheek, caressing it tenderly before doing the same to your right one, it was a rinse and repeat act. They cooed and laughed at you, scolding you with condescending tones that would - hopefully - put you in your place. You cried, sobs that rendered them unable to stop themselves from slipping a finger in while you were being spanked, your cheeks tear-strained and your ass swollen and bruised.
You probably wouldn’t be able to sit without hissing for the next few days while the bruises subsided and the pain would linger for a longer period because they were so rough with you, picking you up and making you ride them until they came. Your body hurt and you were tired, your legs numbed and walls milking them dry, labia swollen and cervix battered by your stepdad’s thick and veiny cock with his unusually large girth from tip to base.
It didn’t help that your tears and sobs only excited them, their taunts and insults burning your skin as much as the flush of your cheeks burned you with shame. It proved as an incentive to plough into you harder as your depressive murmurs and your feelings of helplessness, their hips driving harshly into you with greater enthusiasm, loud and wet slaps echoing in the empty house.
“Don’t cry, 애인,” Horangi smiled, a mock of sympathy in his eyes, glazed over with sadistic glee, “I know, but you’ll choke.” [sweetheart.]
He pushed his cock deeper, your nose tickled by his dirty pubes, wet with slick and drool, smelling musky with a smell of sex and sweat. You retched loudly when König pushed you harshly into Horangi, the tip of his cut cock tapping the back of your throat where it laid heavily on the fla tof your tongue. He gripped your hair, fingers digging into your scalp to hold you still while König bucked into you, pounding Horangi’s cum out of your cunt from he sides, his cock so thick that it took all the space. You gagged, squirming wildly under them with fresh tears down your face, you couldn’t breathe with him down your throat, his length stopping you from taking in much-needed air into your dazed mind.
“Fuck, just a bit more,” Horangi groaned, throwing his head back as he came down your throat, gushing from the tip of his leaky cock. “You look so pretty crying.”
You chocked around him, throat closing to swallow down the cum that trickled down to prevent yourself from drowning in his salty and tangy cream. A part of it exploded out, your cheeks swelling until it couldn’t take anymore, white cream dripping down your spread lips and chin, drawing a filthy line on your body and onto your couch. You were cross-eyed, back arched and body limp between them, using the armrest and your stepdad’s grip as your support stay on your knees, legs quacking with every rough thrust from him, punching what little air was left in your chest.
“Scheiße, the prettiest,” König heaved loudly, pressing his sweaty chest to you back, head over your shoulder while he whispered filthy things he wanted to do to you when you were crying and sad that you mother couldn’t see the darkness in them or how awful their treated you. He rutted into you with ferocity, teeth grinding, pushed onward with Horangi’s encouraging words, his convoluted thoughts for a future with you between them, “Unser hübscher Schatzi.” [Shit, the prettiest. Our pretty darling.]
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysia @notspiders @velvetsoulweaver @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake
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wednesdaysky · 8 months
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I like how Gortash is kind of a hidden foil to the theme of "breaking free from those who abuse you" and "perpetuating the cycle of abuse" that runs throughout all of BG3.
He was hurt very badly. What did he learn from it? That you're ultimately alone, nobody is going to come save you, the only person on your side is yourself. He didn't have a Tav/anyone else to come help him, or if he did, he refused to let their words get through to him. He dragged himself out of literal hell -- from there decided he was going to make the entire world pay for what was done to him. From there never grew up from the kind of simple fantasy a child would come up with, I'll be better than you, nyah nyah. From there did an Ascended Astarion and did live his own worst life.
His parents had power over him but decided they'd rather have money than another mouth to feed? Fuck them, Enver could earn more money than they ever had. Raphael had power over him and lived a life of luxury while treating his slaves to all the horrors of life amongst devils? Fuck him, Enver could accumulate more luxury than even a devil would ever have, even steal his coveted toy. He was smart, he could outwit them, he could be worse than them if needed and leave them all crying in the dust at his success.
And then he did whatever was necessary, the way his own family had done what was necessary, no matter how dirty. Went on to beg, borrow, and steal his way to the good life with no sleazy stone unturned. Seducing people to steal from them? Who cares, if they don't notice he's doing it then they're idiots and deserve to be taken for a ride. Weapons dealing? Barely a crime at all, if he wasn't doing it someone else would. Selling slaves? Who cares, it was done to him and he got out, anybody who can't is just a weakling. Selling Karlach in specific? Betraying those who trust you to make a quick buck is just good business, he had it done to him and he's fine. Playing with people's souls and lives in the most horrific fashion possible? Whatever, it's not his soul and they're not worth that much anyway, devils literally spend them as currency.
Hitch your wagon to somebody more powerful than you, use their influence to gain more power over others, then step on them to climb your way up the ladder -- that's the way you get what you want out of life. It's no surprise that he threw in his lot with Bane. Sure, he's technically got a new master holding authority over his head (though with as arrogant and self-aggrandizing as he is, I can picture him even thinking "I already outfoxed two powerful devils, I'm about to rule the world, so...what's a single god really?"), but all these stupid mortals underneath him? Now they have to do whatever he wants. It's childish petty revenge taken to the utmost logical extreme possible. Everybody he ever hated, everybody who ever wronged him, everybody who might want to wrong him, they have no choice but to bow and scrape forever and it's the best kind of vengeance against the world to be able to hold that over them. Just consider what he does to his parents. He could've just killed them. Instead his wrath comes in the form of making them watch his success while trapping them in an unending hell they can never escape for as long as they live. The same fate they would have abandoned him to if things had gone differently.
So much of this is told through text notes and little side details that it's easy to miss, but I love that one of our main villains is somebody who suffered in a very similar way to some of the main cast members and his response to that wasn't trying to become better than what was done to him, it was to aim himself straight toward way, way worse.
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dilemmaontwolegs · 9 months
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helloooo, could you write a fic where the OC is also a f1 driver and they're Lando's rival, buutt one race weekend she goes into his driver's room to argue with him but they do more because they're both frustrated? like pure smut
The Fine Line || LN4
Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!driver!reader Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, angst, smut WC: 1.6k F1 Masterlist
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No one tried to stop you as you stormed through the McLaren garage, ascending the stairs two at a time just to reach the driver's room quicker. Your heel planted on the door and it flew open with a bang and left a handle sized hole in the plaster where it struck.
"I get that you don't like me but you don't have to drive me into the fucking wall, Norris."
Lando had barely returned to the room after crashing out of the race with the collision but you were too angry to see the state of his undress, his fireproof shirt carelessly strewn across the floor.
“You really think too highly of yourself,” he scoffed, pulling the door out from the wall and slamming it closed. 
“So you didn’t cut into my line and take me out?” you dared, the video footage proof that it was exactly what he had done.
“I can’t stand you, why would I want to go anywhere near you and your precious racing line?” he growled as each step brought him closer until he was dominating your personal space.
Your lips pulled up into a taunting smirk and you tilted your head back to meet his eyes. “You are awfully close, for a man that doesn’t want to be near me.”
His eyes traced the curve of your lips before he dragged them back to your eyes and he dipped his head to whisper in your ear.  “You came here first.”
Your mouth was dry as you swallowed and the room suddenly felt too hot. “Because you put me into a fucking wall, Norris.”
“This is putting you into a wall,” he said as he pushed you back. 
You waited for the impact but his arm snaked around your back and his palm cradled your head before the contact came. His entire body was pressed the length of yours and a needy whine escaped your lips as the race high and adrenaline left your body screaming for an outlet. 
“You like that? Hmm?” he smirked but you returned it as you rolled your hips and felt his erection proudly digging into your stomach.
“Don’t take it personally, Norris, it’s not you, you just have the right…bits.” 
“I don’t believe you.” He fingers toyed with the zip and your collar, waiting to see if you would slap them away in this strange game of chicken. The only sounds were the quickening of your breath and the tear of Velcro before he drew the zip down your body and saw your skin-tight fireproof shirt beneath. 
You dragged your nails down his back and smirked as he groaned at the heat that flared from the five angry red lines. Nipping at his jaw, he bucked his hips before you pushed him away. “And I don’t care.”
“Bullshit,” he chuckled when he recovered and combed a hand through his messy hair. “Just admit it, you want me.”
“I want you, Lando,” you admitted as you opened the door. “I want you…to stay the fuck off my race line.”
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Two Months Later You had the cash ready in hand when the knock at your door came, but it wasn’t who you expected on the other side. 
“Blocking me?” Lando huffed as he pushed his way inside your suite. “That’s fucking low.”
You rolled your eyes at the scathing attitude. “You think I wanted a penalty? I wasn’t even impeding you, there was plenty of room if you used your eyes to look for something other than the paddock bunnies.”
You started to close the door when the food you had ordered arrived, the poor man looking unsettled as his eyes danced between you and Lando. “Are you alright, ma’am? Would you like me to call security?”
The hostility was palpable and you chuckled as you took the bag, handing the money over with a sizable tip. “I can handle him, thanks.”
He clearly wasn’t all that satisfied but nodded and left, wishing you a good evening before you closed the door. The entire hotel didn’t need to hear you and Lando’s war of words. 
“You can’t even handle qualifying,” he scoffed, peeking over your shoulder into the bag. “Is that katsu?”
“Yes, and no, you are not getting any.” You wanted to eat it while it was hot but you couldn’t ignore the papaya elephant in the room. “Did you come here for anything else?”
“Like what?”
“How would I know? I don’t know what goes on in that little head of yours. But I picture it’s something like that monkey banging cymbals together on repeat.”
“You were right with the banging,” he muttered as he helped himself to your mini bar. “Wrong with the animal.”
“Gross.” Effectively put off your food, you pushed the dish away and decided a drink was better. Lando was leaning against the countertop, his legs wide manspreading and his arms crossed, trying to look dominant. He watched you bend down to grab a miniature bottle of champagne from the fridge, not bothering with a glass as you popped the cork. 
“Want a sip?” you offered. “It’s the closest you’ll get to tasting victory.”
“God I hate you,” he growled as he pushed your hand away. 
You chuckled and took a sip of the sweet bubbles. “There’s a fine line between love and hate. I think you’re just confused.”
“Okay, I love to hate you.” 
You stepped between his legs and placed your bottle next to his on the bench. He watched with half hooded eyes as you reached for his belt and made no effort to stop you from unbuckling it. “Is that why you always find a reason to come to my room?”
“Don’t act like you don’t get off on it too.” His arms uncrossed and his hands drifted over your hips before disappearing into the back pockets of your jeans where he squeezed your ass. His breath teased the shell of your ear as a hand snaked up your neck until he cradled your cheek, his thumb brushing beneath your eye as he whispered, “I remember seeing tears last time, you came so hard.”
“Those were tears of disappointment, that you couldn’t last longer,” you lied. The bastard was right, no one could make you angry like he could but it made for some explosive sex. 
“I can go all night, baby,” Lando chuckled darkly before his hand dropped to the base of your throat and he crushed his lips to yours. His fingers tightened slightly, warning you of his strength as he pulled back and bit his bottom lip in contemplation. “Guess I’ll just have to remind you again.” 
The colours of your clothes clashed as they were abandoned to the floor, his McLaren papaya and your Alpine pink proving just how badly the two together were. But it didn’t stop you from taking him to your bed, from your bodies colliding with desperate need, from crying out his name in ecstasy. 
His body bore the marks of your nails, and yours held the marks of his mouth, where he had nipped and sucked his way across your collar. There was no care given between you in the primal need to chase a high, an outlet for the fire that burned inside of you, except for where you marked each other.
“There they are,” Lando chuckled proudly as his fingers left bruises on your hips, pulling you back to meet his hips with every long hard thrust. His pace was relentless, your thighs shaking as you lost all sense of self and screwed your eyes shut as you felt them begin to sting. 
Your throat was hoarse and your lips swollen from the dominating kisses that stole the louder cries from them. His skin was slick with sweat and his breath came in quick pants as his forehead crumpled in restraint, his teeth clenched together. 
“Go on, baby, open your eyes for me,” he taunted as a tear escaped the corner, disappearing into your hair as you shook your head. “No?”
He didn’t like to be denied and his palm slapped down on your clit, eliciting a sharp whimper as it only intensified the heat in your core. Your back arched and your lips curled into a smirk before parting with a drawn out moan as he snapped his hips even faster, the room filling with the sound of his skin slapping yours. 
“Open. Your. Eyes,” he growled, pinching your nipple sharply.
“Ah,” you cried out as your eyes flew open and to meet his. The heat exploded as you came again, the waves of the orgasm rocking your entire body and his jaw fell slack at the feel of your walls clenching tight around him.
“Fuck,” he grunted as he succumbed to his own release. He pulled out and spilled himself over your stomach, fisting his cock and squeezing out every last milky drop before sitting back on his heels panting. His face was smug as he memorised the sight before him, your eyes half closed, your lips parted, the hickeys he left on your collar, the mess he left on your belly, your clit swollen and oversensitized, your cunt dripping with your arousal. “Fuck.”
He climbed off the bed, stumbling a bit with lightheadedness before catching himself and grabbing his clothes. You rolled over like a lazy cat and watched him dress just as quickly as he had undressed before leaving without a goodbye. You would have remained silent too with his exit except you heard the telltale crinkle of a paper bag and everything you felt before came crashing back.
“Get your own fucking food, Norris!”
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satorusluver · 7 months
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Wanna Bet?
Satosugu x female reader
Minors DNI
Tags/Warnings: smut, threesome sort of, slight breast play, alcohol mention (they're sober tho), princess as a nickname because it's my weakness lol
Word count: 800 ish
A/N: Idek what this is, it was just a scene in my head that's been sitting in my drafts so *throws it at you and runs*
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You stare down at the panting mess of your friend Satoru under you. He's sprawled out on the bed, white hair blending in with the pillowcase. His hands are gripping your thighs and his fingertips lightly dig into the soft flesh as you grind back and forth on him, the outer lips of your pussy sliding up and down the length of his hard dick. You've been doing this for a couple of minutes now, never working up the courage to actually put it in. It's clearly getting to Satoru, who looks like he'd be about ready to start begging if his pride would let him, which it won't. But now he's chewing on his lower lip almost hard enough to break the skin, and his icy blue eyes keep rolling back as he gently grinds up against you. The stimulation feels good, but never quite enough.
"I don't know what you're so afraid of, it's not like you're a virgin." You hear the deep voice of Suguru from behind you and feel his large hands ghost over the curve of your waist.
"I-I know...but look at him, he's huge," you stammer, looking to where the fat head of Satoru's cock is peeking out from between your pussy lips.
"He's no bigger than me," Suguru replies smugly, his hands still trailing up your waist until he cups your breasts, and although you can't see his face, you can hear the grin in his voice. "Don't tell me you're too much of a baby to sit on a dick?"
"If you keep talking shit, I'm not gonna let you fuck me after him," you hiss, your hips still slowly moving back and forth on Satoru's length, the friction against your clit causing you to stifle a moan as you try to sound firm.
"You're the one who got drunk the other night and admitted you've always wanted to know what both of our dicks felt like." As he speaks, the pads of Suguru's thumbs tease your nipples until they stiffen under his touch.
God, that was embarrassing of you. But really, who could blame you when you had two of the most attractive men you'd ever seen as your closest friends? It's honestly a miracle it took so many years for you to let your attraction to them slip.
"Well, you guys are the ones who said you wanted to actually let me do it!"
"We did. So why don't you go ahead and actually put it in?" Satoru finally speaks, bucking his hips impatiently. He's trying to keep his cool, but a hint of desperation is creeping into his usually cocky voice.
"He's right, haven't you tortured poor Toru enough? Come on, lift your hips a little. I'll help you since you apparently need it..."
You do as Suguru says, lifting your hips up, and you watch as his hand curls around the base of Satoru's dick so casually you're a little thrown off by it. The lack of any and all hesitation has you silently wondering if he'd done it before, but you don't have much time to think about it before Suguru is lining up the head of Satoru's cock with your entrance, gently moving it back and forth against your slit to get it wet enough to go in with ease.
"Go on then, princess. Or do you need me to hold your hand, too?" Suguru's making fun of you, but he actually does interlace the fingers of his free hand with yours, and his lips brush against your own affectionately.
You groan into Suguru's mouth the moment you finally sink down onto Satoru's cock, and you can feel his lips turn up in a smirk at the sound you make. You take in a sharp breath at the stinging feeling the stretch causes once you feel him bottom out. For a moment, you're silently cursing yourself for ever admitting you wanted to try this, but then your walls begin to adjust to his size and the pain begins to melt away until all that's left is the feeling of being deliciously and utterly full in a way you've never felt before.
"Fuck," Satoru curses, "she's so fuckin' tight."
"Yeahhh?" Suguru drawls, his voice somehow sounding even lower than usual. "You look like you're trying not to blow your load already," he chuckles. Well, at least you're not the only one he's poking fun at.
"I'll last longer than you," Satoru insists, although his teeth are gritted slightly as though he's already struggling with his self-control.
"You wanna bet? We got all night after all, don't we, princess?" You feel Suguru's hot breath just below your ear before he playfully nips at the sensitive skin there, and you brace yourself for what is about to be a very long night.
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megalony · 21 days
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You'll See Him Soon
This is an Eddie Diaz imagine, requested by anon. I hope you will all like it, I wrote this one so quickly. Let me know what you think.
Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17 @zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone
Eddie Diaz Masterlist
Summary: While (Y/n) pops by the station, her and Eddie both end up getting shot. And the team race to get them both to the hospital before they lose them.
Enjoy.
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"So, lunch on Tuesday?"
A grin broke out on (Y/n)'s face and she turned to the right, looking over at her big sister with a smile.
"Yep. You know we'll have to invite Buck though, right?" (Y/n) laughed at the way Maddie rolled her eyes.
They had gone out today on a girl's day while Evan, Eddie and Chimney were all on shift. That was all well and good, but it made Evan feel left out. Whenever they went out together on a girl's day, they ended up going to the movies or going out for lunch another day with Evan. The three of them were a close-knit sibling unit and Evan seemed to think girl's day should also include him.
"Hm, I know." She cast a sly grin across at (Y/n) before she looked ahead and turned the next corner.
"You can just drop me at the station, you know. Eddie will be finished by now and he said he'd give me a lift home." They were only three minutes away from the station and it saved Maddie having to go past her flat to get to (Y/n) and Eddie's place.
It meant she could just drop (Y/n) here and make the short trip home and (Y/n) would go home with Eddie. As long as he wasn't currently out on a call but even if he was, (Y/n) would just wait at the station for him.
"Don't forget to ask Eddie and Buck about getting that night off next month."
(Y/n) groaned and pressed her temple against the window at the mere mention of what was going to happen next month. She could feel a headache forming behind her eyes at the thought.
"If they don't get it off, I'll be down at the station with them." (Y/n) could hear her sister laughing, but she wasn't joking. She was being serious. If neither of the boys got that night off, (Y/n) would be joining them and hanging out at the station for the night.
There was no way (Y/n) and Maddie could get through dinner with their parents without Eddie and Evan there with them. It wasn't often that they saw their parents nowadays and that was how the three siblings liked it.
But (Y/n) knew when she told them she was pregnant, they would want to come down and see them all. She had been surprised they hadn't come down sooner, but they were finally coming down for three days next week and (Y/n) was dreading it.
"At least they're happy this time… they're excited." Leaning across the console, Maddie rested her hand on (Y/n)'s leg and gave her a little shake to make her smile.
"Yeah, after they said I wasn't old or mature enough to be Chris's mum. Now this is 'their grandchild' they've changed their tune."
(Y/n) kept her head against the cold glass that felt soothing to her skin. She dared to glance her eyes down and her expression softened when she looked at her bump. Her fingers danced over her abdomen and she started drawing aimless patterns like Eddie had started to do recently. (Y/n) didn't realise how attached to her stomach Eddie would be until she finally started to show.
Not long before she and Eddie got married last year, her parents had tried telling her- in front of Eddie- that she wasn't mature enough to be a mother to Chris. And she had seen the conflict in their eyes when Chris called her mum. They didn't see how much it meant to (Y/n) that Chris thought of her as his mother.
Because she was the youngest sibling, they thought she was somehow incompetent at doing anything.
Only now it was different because (Y/n) was the first one out of the three of them to have a child. Her parents had changed their minds because they could see (Y/n) was the happiest she had ever been with Eddie and she was settling down. They were going to be grandparents and it sparked a small change in them.
Although (Y/n) knew if they dared say anything when they came down, Eddie would blow a fuse.
"So… have you thought of any names yet? I think-"
"We are not calling her Maddie." (Y/n) shook her head and shot a glare across at her sister who was just about to turn into the station car park.
"Why not?"
"Because it's your name. It's bad enough Buck's trying to hustle in and pitch Evelyn for a name. We're not naming her after anybody."
(Y/n) had seen Eddie's eyes light up when they went to their scan two weeks ago and found out they were having a girl. She knew he had been hoping for a girl and she could already tell their daughter would have Eddie wrapped around her little finger.
But the couple were starting to regret telling people because they were all coming up with names and ideas left, right and centre. Evan had been bummed they couldn't name the baby after him, until he realised Evelyn was close to his name and kept pestering Eddie to pick that name. And even though Maddie was joking, she had pitched Madeline to them a few times.
God knows there wasn't anyone on (Y/n)'s side of the family she would want to name her daughter after- except for her big sister. But (Y/n) couldn't handle two Maddie's and getting confused and having to come up with nicknames for each of them.
And she had asked Eddie if he had anyone on his side that he thought about naming their daughter after, but he wasn't keen on the idea. They wanted something original. A name no one else in their friendship circle had.
"Fine," Maddie huffed with a roll of her eyes as she parked up and whipped off her seatbelt. She turned to the left and looked over at (Y/n) with a tender smile before she danced her fingertips across (Y/n)'s stomach. And her smile brightened when (Y/n) moved her hand down so she could feel the baby wriggling. "Well what about Dolly, because she'll be as cute as a little doll."
"I'll think about it." (Y/n) would admit that it would be sweet to call her Doll or Dolly, especially if she was small and delicate. But knowing their luck, they would agree on that name and then either their daughter wouldn't suit the name when she was born or she wouldn't be a small baby.
She gave Maddie's hand a squeeze and grinned, but just as she took off her belt and looked to the left, a pair of hands slammed against the window.
(Y/n) screamed as Maddie gasped and reeled back in her seat with a frown when they both realised it was only Eddie.
He had a wolfish grin on his lips while he crouched down to look through the window. He seemed to make it his mission to give (Y/n) a fright recently and she was sure it was because he loved to make her scream and liven up the baby.
"Eddie!" (Y/n) hissed and slammed her hand down on the window before she moved her hand to her chest, trying to regain back her breath.
Her brows furrowed into a deep frown as Eddie opened the door and when he held his hand out for her, she batted it away and climbed out. "Don't do that! Do you want me to have a heart attack?"
She gave his shoulder a shove and tried to glare at him, but it was hard when he grinned down at her with such a wide smile that his cheeks and eyes creased. And when he leaned over and wormed his arms around her waist and reeled her into his chest, (Y/n) didn't have the effort to push him away.
"No, just keepin' you on your toes, baby."
His palms pressed flush against her back and he pulled her into him until their chests were touching and (Y/n) had to hold onto his shoulders to steady herself. She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes on him when his lips attached to the side of her neck "Look what you've done," She muttered quietly, reaching behind her to hold Eddie's wrist and move his hand from her back until his palm was pressed into the side of her stomach.
"She's happy to see me." He grinned against her neck and bared his teeth, lightly grazing against her neck until (Y/n) gave his shoulders a squeeze and started to squirm in his arms.
He lifted his head up so he could kiss the side of (Y/n)'s temple and his arms curved back around her. Keeping her pinned into his chest and when she curled her arms around his neck to hug him, he started to sway them both from side to side. And Eddie turned his head to the left, grinning over at Maddie as she got out the car and leaned against the door with a grin and raised brows.
"Did you two have fun?"
"We went for lunch, then we saw a movie."
They hadn't made any plans today, they had decided to have a girls day but see what they felt like doing when they went out. Both of them had been hungry, so they tried a new restaurant for lunch and then decided to go to the movies. It had been a while since they had gone out together and seen a movie and it was something they used to do every weekend when (Y/n) was younger.
"Someone had to leave the screen twice for a drink refill. Little miss lemonade with lime cordial."
(Y/n) rolled her lips together and looked up at Eddie through her lashes when he scrunched his nose in distaste and gave her an odd look.
"You don't like lime juice." That wasn't something Eddie had ever known (Y/n) to drink and it was an odd combination. And it wasn't like (Y/n) to go and get a refill drink either, she barely drank enough during the day to keep her going so it was a nice surprise to hear she kept getting another drink.
"Hm, your daughter does," Maddie chirped with a wide grin before she looked down at her watch. "Right, I'd better love you and leave you, I'll see you both at the weekend for games night. Tell Buck I said hi."
When Maddie climbed back in the car and blew a few kisses their way, they stood back and waved her off.
"Is your shift over?" (Y/n) dragged her eyes up and down Eddie's frame, only just realising that he was still in his starched navy trousers and button up shirt. Her fingers dug down into his shoulders and she tilted back a little when Eddie leaned his chest against hers and stole a deep kiss from her lips.
"Hm, just gotta get changed, then we can go home." He could see that was music to (Y/n)'s ears.
Sitting down in a movie theatre was all well and good, but (Y/n) was starting to feel tired already and she hadn't done that much today. She wanted to go home, make tea and slump on the sofa with her boys.
"So, was the movie any good?" Eddie curved his left arm around (Y/n)'s waist to keep her tucked up into his side as they walked round to the front of the station. He stuffed his other hand into his pocket and pressed his lips to the top of (Y/n)'s head when she leaned her cheek against his shoulder.
"Yeah, but I missed the ending queuing for the toilet." In all honesty (Y/n) had missed a few crutial parts of the film when she went to go get another drink, twice. And then she had to hurry out twice for the toilet and the queue had been horrendous at the end. It was lucky she was only five months along with the baby or she wasn't sure she would of been able to wait as long as she did for the queue to go down.
She could feel Eddie laughing into her hair as both their steps came to a halt when they noticed Hen, Chimney and Evan all gathered in a little circle just outside the station doors.
"What kind of meeting is this?" (Y/n) quipped with a grin and she leaned over when Evan looped his arm around her shoulders and reeled her under his wing for a hug.
"Shift change-over. Me and your hubby are leaving, these two are staying for the next four hours." Hen hitched her bag higher on her shoulder and smiled triumphantly as if she had just won a game.
They were all out here because the trucks were being restocked and the ambulance was out on a call. It was quieter out here than inside where everyone was hustling and bustling to stock up and clatter and change over. And Hen was getting ready to leave whereas Chimney and Evan were taking a breather before they went back in for the rest of their shifts.
"So, how's Evelyn?"
(Y/n) rolled her eyes and unhooked her brother's arm from her shoulders before she crossed her arms over her chest. But she smiled when Eddie reached behind her to give Evan a light shove.
"I've told you, we're not naming her after you." He gave Evan a pointed look before he moved his hands to his hips and leaned his head to one side. It didn't matter how many times Evan tried or how much he pestered. Eddie's first daughter was not going to be named after his brother-in-law.
(Y/n) leaned into Eddie's left side, trying to hide her grin when Chimney started to laugh.
"Debatable." Evan remarked with narrowed eyes before he looked back down at his little sister. He wasn't giving up just yet; he could pester them for a lot longer to see if they would give in and go along with the name he had chosen. "So, how is she?"
"She's fine."
"So, are you two-"
Whatever Hen was about to say tapered off when a sharp, shrill noise cut through the air and shifted the atmosphere around them.
A gunshot.
Nobody knew where it came from. They didn't know who fired, where they were standing, what kind of shot it was that was directed at them. Or who the shot was aimed for.
Terror dug its claws into (Y/n)'s chest and ripped out her lungs when her head turned to the right.
It was Eddie. Eddie was the one who got shot. She didn't see the bullet hit him, but (Y/n) knew the moment he had been hurt; his left hand clawed into her back and made her wince. She knew by the way his fingertips punctured into her hip and how his hand fisted her flesh like he was trying to tear a chunk off that the pain hit him instantly.
She didn't see the shot, it happened far too quick to see the bullet fly through the air or see it hit her husband. But when Eddie's shirt around his right shoulder started to turn berry-red, it ignited (Y/n)'s heart until she was matching the pulse rate of a hummingbird.
Her hands grappled for Eddie, holding his back and scrunching her other hand up in his shirt over his chest to try and keep him upright, but she couldn't.
His name passed her lips like a whisper in the wind and when Eddie's lips parted, (Y/n) could hear the quiet breath he huffed.
There was no expression on his face, his eyes weren't in focus, they were dazed and staring ahead into the distance. His lips parted but he wasn't saying anything and he was barely breathing. It was like someone had refreshed his system and he was completely blank.
But he couldn't stay upright. It felt like hours had passed when barely a second ticked by from the bullet entering his shoulder to Eddie's body tilting backwards.
"Eddie-" (Y/n) curled her hands into fists around his shirt but she couldn't hold him up. He fell too swiftly and with too much weight for (Y/n) to try and keep him on his feet. Her body shuddered and she winced when his fingers stayed puncturing into her back where she knew she would have bruises later.
He crashed down on his back on the pavement, his head bouncing against the concrete slabs harsh enough that it should have cracked his head open.
(Y/n) snapped her eyes closed on instinct when she started to fall with him but a scream burned at the back of her throat when it felt like the back of her right thigh had suddenly been torn apart or bitten by a rabid dog.
Her knees crashed into the floor and her hands shook against Eddie's chest as she landed with a crash so forceful it sent all the blood down to her legs and her head started to spin. Black and white spots danced in front of her eyes and she let her head bash down into Eddie's chest, gasping to try and keep herself awake and alert, but everything was on fire.
(Y/n) could feel every pounding beat her heart thrashed out. She could feel her heartbeat beneath every inch of her skin and her pulse throbbing in her ears. She felt like her head was going to explode. Bells were ringing in her ears along with her heartbeat. Hot coals surrounded her body that felt like it was melting and scorching hot.
Her knees were aching- her right thigh felt like it had been shredded to ribbons.
"Eddie… Eddie, baby," Words dripped past (Y/n)'s lips but she barely heard her own voice.
She tried to focus herself and move but everything began to shake. Her hands were trembling up and down like she was doing some odd kind of dance but she managed to cradle Eddie's face between her trembling palms. Her thumbs swiped across his face and she tried to tilt his head in her direction.
His eyes were still open but they weren't focusing properly, he was looking through (Y/n) rather than at her. But he was awake. (Y/n) needed him to stay awake.
It was only then that (Y/n) managed to get her ears into focus and she realised she could hear voices around them. She remembered it wasn't just her and Eddie in this situation. Her brother and their team were here too.
"Cap we've got a shooter!"
"Get inside-"
"Eddie's been hit!"
"Get inside- get them inside now."
Hands grappled with (Y/n)'s shoulders and a quiet "No," tumbled past her lips when she felt a chest pressing down into her back and whoever it was nudged her to the side.
She wasn't sure who was holding her back but she began to cry. She had to stay with Eddie. Why weren't they letting her hold Eddie? She had to make sure he was okay and somehow get him inside. (Y/n) had to stay with him; they couldn't try and tear them apart like this.
His name tore past (Y/n)'s lips again and her hands tried to latch around her brother's bicep when Evan crouched in between her and Eddie.
He was working on overdrive. Evan could barely move from the amount of adrenaline that was shooting through his system and it made him feel sick. His thighs burned from how he was crouched, balancing on the heel of his boots while his trembling arms grabbed his brother in law. He looped Eddie's arm around the back of his neck and dug his fingers into Eddie's good shoulder like tallons.
His left hand grabbed Eddie's hip and with some effort, Evan hoisted his brother up onto his shoulder.
"Go!" He all but roared, waving his arm out for Hen and Chimney to get inside with (Y/n). He needed his sister inside with them. She had been hurt too and Evan wasn't sure where she had been hit. He could see the blood soaking down both her legs and pooling on the floor and he dreaded to think where it was coming from.
His legs shook as he bolted through the open doors, trying to stay hunkered down low so he and Eddie were less of a target for anymore bullets. But he heard another gunshot ricochet against the shutters and it made Evan cower.
Why was someone shooting at them? What had they done? They were emergency responders, they saved lives, they didn't take them. There was no reason for someone to be taking revenge out on them.
Why had they shot Evan's family?
"Eddie-" (Y/n) felt a pair of hands on each of her arms and she let them lift her up but as soon as she was on her feet, she screamed.
A banshee howl left her lips and she coiled her right leg up off the floor. Standing on both feet felt like a knife was slicing down from her hip to her toes. Someone was cutting her in two. Someone had taken her husband away from her. She needed to get him back.
Her foot bent at an awkward angle beneath her and she tried to hop on her left foot, dragging her right leg behind her like it was a third, useless limb she didn't need. Her head flopped forward, gluing her eyes to the floor that was littered with tiny flecks of blood like someone had walked by eating strawberries.
Her hands dug into Chimney's arm and shoulder and if she had the energy, (Y/n) would have tried to tell him she could walk. She would of tried to hold herself up if she wasn't drowning in panic.
She barely felt Hen run past her to open the truck doors.
Hen climbed in the back of the truck. Bobby climbed in the driver's seat. Evan and Chimney dragged their family towards the truck. It was their only mode of transport to get out of here and make their way down to the hospital when the ambulance was already out on a call and was far too small to transport them all.
(Y/n) could hear Bobby shouting orders, but his voice sounded quiet and distant like he was shouting from the other side of a lake.
"Lockdown the station when we leave! Nobody in, nobody out!"
A groan rumbled through Eddie's chest and vibrated against the back of his throat when he felt himself suddenly being tilted backwards.
He could barely comprehend why he was suddenly being lifted up by Evan or where he was being taken. The view of the station was blurred. Everything looked like a watercolour painting but the paints were too runny and blending together. Eddie couldn't make sense of anything.
His lungs stuttered and clenched when he was hoisted off of Evan's shoulder and he was held up on his feet by someone behind him and Evan in front of him, gripping his wrists so tightly he was going to snap them.
Evan climbed up the steps, leaning backwards to keep Eddie's weight and keep him stood up. And when he was up, Evan carefully twisted Eddie to the left and laid him down over the seats. He could see the movement sent Eddie's whole body convulsing and he gasped for breath at the feeling of his shoulder coming into contact with the chairs.
"Okay come here; I gotcha." Spinning on his heels, Evan reached his hands down and held onto (Y/n)'s forearms while Chimney stood behind her. She was much easier to manouevre than Eddie, she was alert and responsive and somewhat helpful.
Her nails scratched into Evan's forearms and a choked sound rumbled past her lips when he pulled her up. When her foot caught on the top step, waves of electricity flowed through (Y/n)'s leg and spots danced in front of her eyes as her head fell forward into her brother's shoulder.
"Cap, go, go!" Hen bashed her fist on the roof before the truck came to life and they all jostled forward as Bobby shifted into gear.
(Y/n) thrashed her arms out until her hands planted down on the seats and she let her weight fall down until she was on her knees in the footwell. She stretched her right leg out behind her, trying to ignore the throbbing pain that felt like her whole leg was vibrating with her heartbeat.
It was as if her leg was hanging on by a thread that was about to snap. (Y/n) wished it would. If that thread tore, it might take away the pain. She just wanted it to stop so she could focus on Eddie. He was her priority.
Her chin pressed down on Eddie's good shoulder and her trembling hands clutched his shirt so tightly she popped the first three buttons open.
Her head was pounding. Her eyes couldn't see anything more than Eddie, blurs and stars twinkled all around him like he was an angel or a vision from Heaven. She leaned closer to him when Evan hovered beside her. Evan held onto the headrest to hold himself up while he leaned over Eddie's chest and pressed a large pack of gauze down on the bullet wound.
He winced when Eddie coughed and groaned and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets. Eddie's head lifted up when pressure pushed down on his shoulder and felt like a hand was physically breaking through the muscle to touch the most sensitive nerves around his bone.
The pressure set something off inside Eddie's body; an extra dose of adrenaline coursed through him and made him a little more alert.
"Are you hurt?" Eddie's voice was gruff as he grunted and managed to flop his head to the left to look over at (Y/n).
He blinked slowly and tried to prize his eyes open wide so he could look her up and down but his vision was going blurry. He was glad his good arm was closest to (Y/n). He flopped his arm off the chair and slumped his hand onto her arm so he could trail his tremoring fingertips over her body.
She had blood smears on her shirt, but he couldn't find an entry wound. She had blood on her face but he couldn't see any cuts. Her breaths were shallow and her body was trembling but Eddie didn't know where she had been hurt.
His fingertips moved down until his hand touched her abdomen and he kept his unfocused eyes on (Y/n) to watch any change in her expression. He moved his hand from left to right, becoming more frantic with each second when she didn't say anything and no one told him if she was hurt or not.
"S-she okay?" Eddie tipped his head back into the seat and coughed when Evan applied more pressure. He was going to bust his shoulder if he pressed down any more than this.
But he tried to look back at (Y/n) when he realised she was only clutching his shirt with one hand. He felt her other hand hold his wrist and press his hand down on her stomach to make him stop checking frantically.
"She's okay."
(Y/n) did her best to smile, despite the tears that were pouring down her face and each breath she took which hitched higher and higher than the last.
Her eyes stayed focused on Eddie, but when she felt Hen applying pressure to the wound on the back of her right leg, (Y/n) couldn't help but cry out. A scream cut past her lips and her eyes snapped closed as she smothered her face down against Eddie's shoulder to try and stay awake when it felt like she was going to pass out.
"Where's she hurt?" Evan took the words right out of Eddie's mouth while he leaned over to try and look his sister up and down. He had seen her fall and heard her cry out, but he didn't see a bullet hit her. Evan had to assume she was hit from the pain she was in and the way she was starting to deteriorate the same as Eddie.
"Right thigh, just above her knee. Someone give me their belt, I need to stop the bleeding."
Chimney leaned back on his heels and yanked his belt free from his trouser loops and handed it over. He moved his hands to (Y/n)'s shoulders and tried to comfort her and keep her still as he moved to press his fingers against her neck to check her pulse.
Another scream mixed with a tepid cry coursed through the air when the belt sank into (Y/n)'s leg like teeth chomping down on her flesh. She could feel her leg and her foot pulsing and throbbing and vibrating like she was a boombox screaming out a beat.
But when (Y/n) lifted her head from Eddie's shoulder, she could see his eyes rolling near the back of his head and his breaths started to pick up and become fast and shallow.
"Just hang in there, two minutes, okay? Stay with us, Eddie." Evan gave Eddie's neck a jostle and tilted his head from side to side to try and keep him conscious. He couldn't fall asleep on them, he had to stay awake and conscious until they got him to the hospital. Why couldn't he stay awake like (Y/n)? He needed to stay alert with them.
"You're gonna be okay, baby." (Y/n) couldn't keep her voice level and she hiccupped through her words as she tried to push closer into the chairs to be next to Eddie.
She swiped her eyes and nose against her sleeve but she could feel her head filling up with air like a balloon. She wanted to go to sleep. She wanted everything to stop. She wanted Eddie to wake up properly and be okay. (Y/n) wanted to rewind time and usher them all inside so nobody got hurt.
Why did it have to be Eddie?
Her hand moved to cup the side of his face and she swiped her thumb across his jaw while her other hand dragged through his hair, brushing the curls away from his eyes. She knew he loved it when she carded her fingers through his hair. Maybe this would keep him awake with her.
"We're here! Eddie, come on let's go. Don't you fall asleep on me."
Eddie's head tilted back and he choked, barely able to breathe when he found himself laid back over Evan's shoulder once again. His left hand tried to reach out, but Evan was moving too fast for Eddie to comprehend. He could taste (Y/n)'s name on his lips and feel the way his nerves tingled when he tried to say her name, but it didn't make a difference. He couldn't see her anymore.
Bobby pressed his hand to the back of Eddie's neck and helped Evan carefully lower him down onto the stretcher that was already waiting for them to arrive. Two nurses and a doctor smothered Eddie with an oxygen mask and a pulse monitor on his finger before they began to move him.
A frown pulled on Evan's lips when Eddie gripped his wrist weakly and gave a sharp tug. "What? What?"
Evan tried to move with him but they moved Eddie too fast and his grip wasn't strong enough to pull Evan along with them. But he heard that one word that spluttered past Eddie's lips.
"(Y/n)."
Leaning down, Hen curled her arms around (Y/n) and pulled her back when she tried to crawl forwards after Eddie. Shallow, gasping breaths left (Y/n)'s lips and her hands scratched against the metal floor as she tried to drag herself to the door.
"Eddie-"
"He's with a doctor, which is where we need to take you. He'll be okay, you're both gonna be okay." Chimney reached down for (Y/n)'s left arm and looped it around the back of his neck before he carefully stood up and the pair of them lifted (Y/n) up between them.
Each gasping, startling cry she let out made them wince and they could feel her shaking back and forth between them like she was hypothermic.
Chimney slowly climbed down the steps but he paused when Evan appeared in front of them like an omen. He held his arms out and reached up for (Y/n), taking her weight for her to help her down from the truck.
"We need another stretcher over here! Pregnant lady with a gunshot wound!"
Both (Y/n)'s hands moved to grip Evan's biceps and she tried tilting her head back to look up at him but it only made spots flash in front of her eyes. She could feel her knees buckling and giving in and she was sure she would be laid out on the floor at any given moment.
"Eddie… I w- wh- where's Eddie?"
"It's okay, you'll see him soon. Let's g-"
That was all she needed to hear. Those words acted as a switch in (Y/n)'s brain and everything started to shut down.
Panic sparked through Evan's body like a wildfire when (Y/n)'s head slumped onto his arm and her body went down. He deadlocked his arms around her waist and lifted her up, pinning her chest against his to stop her from hitting the floor while they waited for another stretcher to be rushed over to them.
Evan leaned down and looped his right arm beneath (Y/n)'s legs, cringing and gagging when he felt the blood instantly soak onto his skin and drip down between his fingers.
Oh God.
***
I'm not staying here.
With that thought in mind, (Y/n) tiredly looked around the room she was in and pursed her lips.
She didn't want to be here.
She didn't want to stay here on her own.
The only reason (Y/n) had managed to stay here last night was because she had been dosed up on morphine which knocked her off her senses. She had become coherent enough this morning to realise she was in the hospital.
She was in a small room on her own. Eddie wasn't here. He was somewhere on this floor, in this ward, but he wasn't here. (Y/n) couldn't sleep on her own. She couldn't stand being anywhere on her own and right now, she was alone at night. Evan and Maddie had visited her and stayed with her until the nurses told them they had to leave and come back in the morning.
None of the nurses listened when Maddie told them (Y/n) was liable to try and leave. They thought she was too hyped up on morphine to try and leave, but that was what she was going to do.
Everyone who had been to visit her today had told her Eddie was okay. He had recovered from surgery, his shoulder joint hadn't been hit by the sniper, it was just the muscle that got damaged. Eddie was awake and on the same pain meds as she was and (Y/n) knew Chris was safe at home. And Evan was staying at their house so Chris didn't have to leave the comfort of home so he would feel better without his parents there.
Her hands moved to her face and she brushed away the tears she had been shedding for the last half an hour. All (Y/n) had done since her siblings left was cry. She hated being alone. She couldn't sleep alone at night. The only reason she slept at home when Eddie was on a night shift was knowing that Chris was in the next room.
"I want Eddie."
If she didn't see him, she was going to go insane.
All (Y/n) could see when she closed her eyes was the image of Eddie on the floor with a mixture of their combined blood mingling together against the concrete. How would she know if he was truly okay if she didn't see him with her own eyes?
How did she know her friends and family weren't just lying to her to keep her calm?
Sitting herself up, (Y/n) looked down at the IV line capped into her left hand as she took deep breaths to stop herself from crying. With minimal effort, she paused the IV machine and twisted the cap until it disconnected from the needle in her wrist. She could easily reattach it whenever she decided to come back to this room later.
It took some effort for her to swing her legs over the side of the bed and (Y/n) grimaced at the hospital gown she was wearing.
Maddie promised to bring her and Eddie some of their own clothes tomorrow when she came down to visit them.
The moment her feet touched the floor, (Y/n) grimaced. The morphine didn't take all the pain away. Granted, it had done yesterday, but recovering from the anaesthetic probably helped numb everything else.
When she was up on her feet, (Y/n) stretched both arms out and hobbled over to the wall. She planted her hands down on the wall, lifted her right leg until her toes barely scraped the floor, and started to hop. It was a lot of effort and her stomach churned and twisted, but she had to persevere.
She had to find Eddie.
More tears stained her face as she quietly opened the door and hobbled out. It felt like she was a cripple with only one leg. Her right leg was practically useless in this state anyway and the nurses hadn't found her a walker or any crutches yet. They were supposed to be trying to get (Y/n) up and out of bed tomorrow, but she needed to move around now so she could find her husband.
(Y/n) crossed to the other side of the corridor so she was leaning on the wall on her right. Her shoulder and arm pinned into the wall as if she was about to slouch down to the floor and she hopped and shuffled along, trying not to make a sound so no one noticed. She could always say she was going to the bathroom if anyone asked.
Her eyes squinted in the dim light to read the names written in whiteboard marker outside each room.
She scanned along them and passed about five different rooms until her heart jumped into her throat and her eyes locked on a familiar name.
Diaz.
Here he was. She'd found him.
Her teeth sank down in her lower lip as she dragged her limp, useless leg behind her and crossed to the room opposite. She was relieved Eddie wasn't on a ward. It wouldn't do her any favours to be sneaking into the men's ward in the middle of the night when she didn't know who else would be in there.
She opened the door as quietly as she could and peeked her head round. (Y/n) wasn't sure what she thought she was going to see. Maybe she thought Eddie would somehow get visitors to stay through the night with him whereas she wouldn't. Or maybe she thought he wouldn't actually be in here, that this was a mistake and something had happened to him like she dreaded.
But when she hobbled over the threshold and looked ahead, her stomach started to flutter with adrenaline and she scratched her hand across her neck to remind herself to breathe.
There he was. He didn't look comfy. It wasn't like Eddie to sleep on his back, it wasn't something he did. When they were at home (Y/n) was used to him laying in funny positions with one leg hanging off the bed or she would wake in the morning to have him wrapped around her like a second blanket.
But here Eddie was, laid uncomfortably on his back with his right arm pinned to his chest in a sling. He had pushed the cover down so it barely covered his knees and he had his good arm flopped above his head on the pillow.
(Y/n) knew he was a light sleeper so she turned and shut the door with a little pressure to wake him rather than stand beside him and frighten him awake.
His head snapped forward within a second and he groaned, clicking his neck from left to right while his eyes adjusted to the dim light seeping in from the corridor.
"Baby?" Eddie's voice was gruff and deep. He lifted his arm from the pillow and dragged his hand across his eyes to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Before he moved to look at his left arm. He wasn't connected to an IV; they took him off it just before he went to sleep and said they would start him on another one in the morning.
He wasn't dosed on morphine anymore, conjuring up the image of his wife in front of him to make himself feel better. So why was she here? She should be back in her own room. Resting. Safe and sound until one of the nurses finally listened to Eddie's beligerent badgering about taking him down to see his wife.
"Baby… what are you doing?"
He pushed himself up so he was sitting up in bed, rubbing at his stiff neck before he squinted at her through his lashes. He watched her drag her fingers across her neck and over her chest; something he recognised as a nervous habit.
When she tried to step forward, she noted the way Eddie took a sharp breath. She could barely walk. She was limping and she had to reach out and grab the bed frame to hold herself up.
"I got lonely," (Y/n)'s voice was meek and timid but she tried to smile. She didn't want to be in that room on her own any longer. Why couldn't she be in the same room as Eddie? They were both patients with similar injuries. And they were both more liable to stay and listen to the doctor's orders if they were together and comfortable instead of separated and panicked.
She watched Eddie's eyes rake up and down her frame, but it was the way his lips pulled into a deep frown and his eyes narrowed on her that made (Y/n) shrink in on herself and wince.
"Jesus baby, you shouldn't be walking about! You could hurt yourself, you know that?"
"I can't sleep on my own." She tried to keep her tone light and force herself to smile, but Eddie's stern expression and his demanding voice made her stomach twist.
"You could tear your stitches or burst a blood vessel if you're not careful. Baby you can't-"
"I'm scared."
A tremor rattled through Eddie's chest and caused a sharp pain to strike his heart when he realised (Y/n)'s eyes were watering. He could feel his lungs shrivelling up in his chest and his shoulders sagged, despite the pain it caused.
She didn't want to be on her own. Not when being apart from Eddie meant she had nightmares that he didn't get here in time. She had to see him, touch him, be with him to convince herself that he was okay. Being on her own left her mind free to torment her. To see Eddie drop down in a pool of blood. To feel her leg ache and pound like it was going to fall off. To have her hands cradling her stomach, fretting that she was going to lose their baby.
It was too scary to be alone. (Y/n) wanted company; she wanted Eddie.
(Y/n) was torn between wanting to run forward and wanting to leave if Eddie was going to be mad with her. But her watering eyes widened when Eddie threw the cover to one side and waved his good hand towards her.
"Get in here."
As soon as she was within reach, Eddie curled his good arm around (Y/n)'s waist and helped her ease down onto the bed. He laid down and pulled her with him, suddenly feeling his own sense of peace when they laid down together. This was why he couldn't settle early in the morning when the drugs wore off. This was why Eddie felt uncomfortable all day and got irritable when any visitor walked through the door. They weren't (Y/n). He wasn't whole without her.
He turned his head to the left and smothered his nose and lips against the top of her head, breathing in her scent like it was the most addictive drug in the hospital.
He felt her head snuggle down into his chest and she bound her arm around his torso, clinging to him like someone was suddenly going to walk in and tear her out of his arms. He wouldn't let them. He wouldn't let anyone take her away from him; especially not if she was frightened.
"Do you feel okay? All I got off Buck was 'she's fine, she's fine' and that didn't really wash well with me."
They had run Eddie through what had happened and told him where (Y/n) had been shot because he remembered she was hurt, but he didn't remember where. It was a relief to know the bullet went in her leg. Any higher and it could have hit a vital organ. Any higher and it would have hit the baby.
But no one would tell Eddie much because at first he wasn't lucid enough and then he tried to leave the room when he wasn't allowed. He was promised he could see her tomorrow, but holding her tonight was so much better.
"Just achy… my thigh stings a bit, but it's okay. How about you?" (Y/n) tilted her head up and nuzzled her face into Eddie's neck so she could be closer to him.
Her lips attached to his neck and she pressed a tender kiss there just beneath the stubble that was starting to grow in.
"It's familiar, being used to it helps. And it didn't hit the bone, thank God." It was strange to think that he was used to the feeling of being shot. Eddie didn't think it was a feeling he would ever have to have again after he left the army.
But having some experience with this feeling definitely helped. He knew how to avoid the pain and how to push through it, and he thanked God that his shoulder joint had been missed. He couldn't be dealing with more operations or physio and time off work to try and patch it back together. And he had to recover so he could hold his baby girl without a struggle when she arrived.
With that thought in mind, Eddie carefully slid his hand over from (Y/n)'s hip until his fingers grazed along her stomach. His touch was light and delicate at first, but when (Y/n) didn't wince or groan or pull away, he pressed his palm down over her gown so he could cup her stomach.
"How's she doing?"
"Her heartbeat settled down this afternoon after the shock wore off… I haven't lost any fluid, and she keeps kicking me. They think she's gonna be fine."
Maddie had made her smile when she said (Y/n) was now special. Rather than bi-weekly checks, for the past two days (Y/n) had been getting almost hourly checks on the baby. When her heartbeat evened out this afternoon, they made a note of it.
Since the placenta and baby were still in place and her vitals were fine and (Y/n) hadn't lost any fluid, they were confident the baby was going to be just fine. But (Y/n) could still have checks throughout the day until she left, and she would be on close monitoring when she was discharged.
"Good, you had me worried."
"Me? What about you, you scared me Eddie. I thought- I thought…" (Y/n) knew exactly what she thought, but she didn't have the willpower to voice it.
She didn't want to say it outloud. It was hard enough to admit to herself that she thought Eddie wasn't going to make it to the hospital. The thought of having to go through life without Eddie wasn't something (Y/n) could contemplate.
She couldn't bring up Chris on her own. She couldn't go through labour and have this baby without him. (Y/n) couldn't do any of that without Eddie by her side.
Her lips rolled together tightly to stop herself from crying and she smothered her face in the side of his neck when his arm tightened around her waist. She could feel his fingers feathering up and down her stomach and he tilted his head to the side so he could kiss the top of her head.
"It's gonna take more than a bullet to take me away from you."
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