𝟗-𝟏-𝟏/ 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓

𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝜗𝜚 𝑬.𝑩

𝜗𝜚

𝜗𝜚

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: a passing comment and shared showers lead to a hard time for the plus size reader, luckily she has Evan Buckley...

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: plus size reader, Buck being a sweetheart, insecurity , negative body image, no smut

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 1.3k

𝒂𝒐𝟑/𝒕𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒓 𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒍𝒆: Showers

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: Buck can be whoever you want him to be to you, boyfriend, best friend, etc.

𝜗𝜚

This particular afternoon the team had come back especially dirty, all members requiring a nice hot shower and a decent scrub to rid their bodies of all that dirt and blood.

All would be fine if I wasn't so insecure of my body. Gender-specific shower and changing rooms may have helped but it wouldn't have defeated the issue nor made me feel that much more comfortable.

I hugged my arms around my chest loosely as I stood outside the door to the shower room, debating on going in and having that much-needed shower or waiting until everyone was done and risking going to more calls dirty and disgusting.

Buck eyed me from his locker, he'd picked up on my unease from an incident on call. I'd been having a good day until a patient made a passing comment about my body. Buck and Eddie being the only ones who heard were quick to defend but the damage was already done.

I must have been standing there for a long time because Bobby was already cleaned up and dressed and with Chim and Eddie entering back into the changing room with towels around their waists it left only Hen still showering and Buck and I.

Showers didn't take long as we had to be ready in case a call came through, but time didn't matter when it came to how I felt about my body.

Buck closed his locker and made his way to the entrance of the showers. He stops still in front of me. "You coming, Y/n/n? No offence but you kind of stink, not unlike me.", he offers me a sympathetic and playful smile.

I stifle a chuckle, though still displeased with the idea, I follow him in. We pass Hen who smiles at us before leaving.

Buck turns and strips himself of his shirt, discarding it on the bench that lines the wall opposite the showers. He pauses and turns around to face me when he notices I haven't moved from where I'm standing.

I feel awkward, at a loss of what to do. A constant debate in my mind of what I should do and what I want to do.

"Y/n.", he says, moving closer to me. Gently he places his hands on my shoulders. "Is this about what happened earlier?"