reader inserts

all i need • evan buckley; 9-1-1

genre(s): ansgt; fluff
pairing(s): evan buckley x reader
characters: evan buckley
fandom: 9-1-1 (fox)
warnings: language; depression; unedited
other notes: wow i'm finally writing something for another fandom of mine

title definitely does not correlate with anything in the story idk what to tell ya; might delete later
keywords: y/n: your name
f/s: favorite scent

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upon entering his apartment, buck notices the television in his living room is on, playing reruns of bones. he could have sworn he'd turned the television off before he left for his shift this morning.

then he notices the kitchen lights are on; he hears bustling in the kitchen. on high alert, he grabs the closest available weapon—a ceramic vase his girlfriend, y/n had gifted him for their second christmas together; it had a personal meaning to y/n—and slowly stalks toward the kitchen.

"argh!" buck cries, raising his arm to throw the vase at the intruder. the intruder nearly jumps out of their skin at the sudden shout, letting out a small gasp of surprise. buck lowers his arm upon realizing the intruder is just y/n.

"oh, you scared me." buck sighs.

you snap, "i scared you? you were about to throw the vase i spent a good half a year making for you at my face!"

buck holds up his hands in surrender, taking a step back.

"whoa, hun. sorry. i just didn't expect you to be here is all." then he notices your red, puffy eyes and the remnants of tears on your cheeks before you turn around to search through the fridge. "hey," he coos. "what's wrong?"

you shrug, sniffling. slowly, buck walks up behind you, placing his hands gently on your waist.

"damn it," you mutter. "where is it?"

"where's what?" he asks gently, wanting to help.

"the nutella. the damn nutella." you can feel the dam holding back your tears about to break. no. you would not cry. "i could've sworn i put it in here the last time i was here but it's not here. i—"

"hey, hey, hey." he soothes, his hands once again on you, gentle. he turns you to face him, though you refuse to meet his gaze. "i put it back in the cupboard, i'm sorry. hun, hey, please tell me what's wrong?"

your breathing comes out in short pants, and you are now unable to keep the crying in8 check. your knees give out and if it weren't for buck's fast reflexes, you'd be curled up on the floor.

he sits down, pulling you onto his lap, running his fingers through your hair to soothe your sobs; that always helped. you grab a fistful of his black lafd shirt, to ground yourself.

"tell me what's wrong, baby." buck asks again, pushing some hair out of your face. "you know talking always helps you."

you sniffle.

"i didn't get the job i wanted," you finally say. "the job i really wanted and spent all year preparing for. i really thought i was going to get it, buck. i really thought so."

he sniffs in upset. you should have gotten the damn job; you'd been so passionate about it and worked yourself to the bone to be as qualified for it as you could be ... it upset him, frankly.

"and dana, she texted me this morning telling me she couldn't handle being my friend anymore. am i just that awful, buck?"

he closes his eyes, his heart breaking at your words. he shakes his head.

"no," he tells you. "no. absolutely not. ronan doesn't know he's letting the best thing for his company slip through his fingers, and dana– she's letting a perfect friend go."

he stands up, pulling you with him. you slump against his chest. he gently grips your biceps, leading you to the bathroom.

you lean against the toilet as he plugs up the tub, filling it up with warm water. he pours some f/s bubble bath under the water. once the tub is halfway full, he turns off the faucet, helps you undress, and assists you into the tub.

"i'll be right back, baby." he tells you, smoothing down your hair before standing up and stepping out of the bathroom.

you sit in the water, grabbing a handful of bubbles. you blow them out of your hand, amusing yourself by repeating the action.

buck returns with two glasses—one empty, one full of ice water—and a bowl of yogurt with fresh strawberries on top.

he hands you the water, which you take a sip of. you place it on the side of the tub, taking the bowl from him, digging in.

buck takes the empty cup, dipping it in the water, and gently pouring the water over your hair. he grabs the shampoo, squeezing a dime-sized amount of it onto your hair, massaging the shampoo through your strands.

you close your eyes, leaning into his hands.

"buck?" you murmur.

"yes?"

"i've never thanked you for taking such good of care of me," you tell him. you open your eyes, looking up into his hazel ones. "thank you. i love you."

"love you too."

you finish up your bath. buck set out your softest pair of pajamas for you, which you more than happily throw on. you climb into bed. buck pulls the covers over you, turning off the lights.

"goodnight y/n," he says as he climbs under the covers with you. "i love you. never forget that."

"i won't," you promise.