redocity

[redocity]

Hii can I request that the reader and buck want to hook up but at the time Albert is still living with him so they have to be quiet so they won’t be caught

OPERATION: GET IT ON — E.BUCKLEY

poor albert has an uncanny talent for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

evan buckley x gn!reader | 1.2k | 16+ | masterlist.

this fic is rated 16+ for suggestiveness.

You’re practically a fixture at Buck’s place these days. It started as casual visits—pizza, beers, and the occasional game night that turned into long nights spent tangled in his sheets. No strings, no labels.

You both agreed to keep it simple: friends with benefits. Though, lately, it’s felt less like "friends" and more like "a couple trying not to call it that."

It’s perfect. Well, it was perfect. Then Albert moved in.

Albert, Buck’s charmingly oblivious roommate, who seems to have an uncanny knack for being everywhere at once. If you’d known Buck had offered his couch to Albert after he’d hit a rough patch, maybe you would’ve suggested finding a different arrangement. But you didn’t. And now Albert is inescapable.

You’re not proud of it, but you’ve started to dread the sight of Albert’s car in the driveway when you pull up to Buck’s place. Because where Albert is, privacy isn’t.

The first week isn’t too bad. You still manage to find your moments—brief, stolen ones that usually end with you shoving a hand over Buck’s mouth to muffle his laughter. He thinks it’s hilarious, sneaking around his own house like you’re in some kind of spy movie.

“Albert’s not your parole officer,” he whispers once, trailing kisses down your neck. You’re both pressed against the door of his laundry room, listening intently for any sign of movement outside.

“Tell that to him,” you hiss back. “I swear, the guy’s got a sixth sense. He always shows up at the worst possible time,”

As if on cue, you hear Albert’s voice from somewhere down the hall. “Hey, Buck! You seen my phone charger?”

You barely have time to scramble apart before the door creaks open. Albert’s head pokes through, his eyes narrowing in confusion at the sight of you both standing there like guilty teenagers.

“What are you guys doing?” he asks, his gaze bouncing between you and Buck.

“Laundry,” you blurt out.

Buck nods vigorously. “Yup. Laundry,”

Albert frowns, but thankfully doesn’t ask any follow-up questions. Buck points him in the direction of his charger and Albert leaves, muttering something under his breath about “weird energy.”

You let out a sigh of relief the second he’s gone. Buck, of course, just laughs.

—

By week two, you’re starting to feel the strain. Albert, for all his good intentions, doesn’t seem to understand the concept of personal space.

He’s always around—plopping onto the couch during movie nights, barging into Buck’s room without knocking, or “accidentally” eating the snacks you brought over.

“Does he ever leave?” you whisper one night as you and Buck huddle in the tiny bathroom, desperate for some alone time.

“He works,” Buck says defensively, though even he doesn’t sound convinced.

“Does he, though?” You gesture vaguely. “Because I’m starting to think he’s just here to ruin my sex life,”

Buck snorts, pulling you closer. “C’mon. He’s not that bad,”

You raise an eyebrow. “This from the guy who almost got caught making out with me in the kitchen last night?”

He grins, unrepentant. “What can I say? The thrill keeps it interesting,”

—

The next evening, you found yourself back at Buck’s apartment. Albert had miraculously not been home when you arrived, and it seemed like this time, you’d finally have the place to yourselves. You and Buck had been scheming all week about tonight—how you could finally get some uninterrupted time together.

Buck had just opened a bottle of wine, pouring it into glasses, when you heard the telltale sound of Albert’s bike coming up the street. You both froze. You glanced at the door, then at Buck. His face was a mixture of dread and exasperation.

“Are you kidding me?” you whispered, dropping your shoulders in defeat.

Buck held up his hands in an exaggerated gesture. “I don’t know, man! I really don’t know!”

The door swung open, and Albert entered, this time carrying a strange plant that you had never seen before.

“Hey, I bought this,” Albert said, grinning from ear to ear. “You guys like plants, right?”

You stared at him, slack-jawed for a second, before replying, “Uh, sure, Albert. Looks… interesting?”

“I think it’s called a ‘cat’s whisker’ or something,” Albert said, holding it up for your inspection. “Do you think it needs direct sunlight?”

Buck, looking completely defeated, gestured to the couch. “Just put it on the coffee table or something, Albert,”

Albert set the plant down and then promptly flopped onto the couch. “You guys gonna watch something? I’m kinda in the mood for a movie night,”

You and Buck exchanged an alarmed glance. This was not how you had envisioned the evening. You tried to subtly steer the conversation in a direction that would get Albert to leave, but he was relentless.

“I was thinking of watching something weird,” Albert continued, oblivious to the awkwardness in the room. “I have this documentary about deep-sea fish. You guys into that?”

You and Buck both stiffened. You could feel the heat between you two, the unspoken desire still lingering, but Albert was firmly planted between you and any chance of satisfaction.

Buck cleared his throat, attempting to put an end to the conversation. “Yeah, Albert, that sounds great, but we kinda—uh—have plans?”

Albert’s face dropped. “Oh… okay. Well, I guess I’ll just go back to my room then,”

As Albert shuffled off, you turned to Buck, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “How do you put up with this?”

Buck groaned. “I have no idea, but it’s like trying to have a date night with a permanent third wheel,”

—

Next time, you think you’re in the clear. It’s late, and Albert is supposedly working an overnight shift. Buck has you pressed against the kitchen counter, his lips trailing along your neck.

“This is better,” you whisper, your fingers hooking into the waistband of his jeans.

He grins against your skin. “Told you we’d get our alone time,”

It’s perfect—until the kitchen light flicks on.

“Forgot my keys!”

You both freeze, like two teenagers caught sneaking out after curfew. Albert stands in the doorway, blinking at you, his face rapidly shifting from confusion to dawning realization.

“Oh,” he says. “Ohhh.”

Nobody moves.

“Don’t mind me,” Albert says, grabbing his keys off the counter and backing out of the room. “Carry on!”

The door slams shut behind him, and you groan, burying your face in your hands, moment officially ruined.

“I’m starting to think he’s cursed,” Buck says, half-laughing.

You tug at his wrist, pulling him towards the front door. “Come on,”

“Where are we going?”

“Your car,” You stop only to pull on your shoes before pulling the door open.

“My car?” Buck laughs. “Why?”

“He can’t interrupt us there,”

[redocity]

new fic is in progress i promise 🙏🙏

[redocity]

— E C T . ✦ˎˊ˗

[ pair ] evan buckley x reader

[ collections ] one

𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝐤𝟐𝟒 ᯓ ★

↳ aka, i supplied you guys with some prompt lists, andyou picked ones for me to write out ! — five fics.

[redocity]

Hii can I request with buck “so you wouldn't mind if i got with person c, right?" "no, i would mind." "...why?" (silence)

Dating rumors but they don't deny them" Both are From the not quite lovers prompt

𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 ≠ 𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 — 𝐄.𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐘

“so you wouldn't mind if i got with person c, right?" "no, i would mind." "...why?" (silence)

Dating rumors but they don't deny them

evan buckley x gn!reader | 2.0k | flangst? | masterlist.

𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 !!

You don’t remember when it started.

Maybe it was a laugh that lingered too long, an inside joke that felt a little too personal, or the way his hand brushed yours one day and didn’t immediately pull away.

Whatever it was, by the time the rumours about you and Buck started circulating around the firehouse, they didn’t feel as ridiculous as they probably should have.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. You weren’t dating him, after all. You were friends. Best friends, even. Sure, you spent more time with him than anyone else, and yes, sometimes your heart skipped when he looked at you like you were the only person in the room, but that was just Buck. He had this way of making people feel special. It wasn’t about you.

Or so you told yourself.

The first time you heard the rumour, you’d just come back from a call. Your hands were still smudged with soot, your body aching from the adrenaline crash, when Hen sidled up next to you with a smirk.

“So,” she began, drawing out the word like she already knew the answer to the question she hadn’t asked yet, “you and Buck, huh?”

You froze, your brain scrambling to process what she was saying.

“Me and Buck what?” you asked, hoping your voice sounded casual, though the flush creeping up your neck probably gave you away.

Hen raised an eyebrow. “Oh, come on. You two have been practically glued at the hip lately. People are starting to talk,”

“People?” you repeated. “What people?”

Hen just shrugged, her smirk widening. “Everyone. Chim. Cap. Probably the neighbors across the street. You two aren’t exactly subtle,”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Hen was already walking away, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding for reasons you didn’t want to examine too closely.

The thing is, you don’t deny it. Not really.

You tell yourself it’s because the rumors are harmless. No one really thinks you and Evan are together—it’s just a bit of firehouse gossip, something to laugh about in between shifts. And anyway, Buck doesn’t seem bothered by it.

When Chimney teases him about “his partner” or Eddie smirks and asks if the two of you need some alone time, he just rolls his eyes and laughs it off. You follow his lead, brushing off the comments with a shrug and a smile, even as your chest tightens every time someone mentions it.

Because the truth is, you don’t mind the rumours as much as you probably should.

And that’s dangerous.

—

The night it comes to a head, you’re at Buck’s apartment.

It’s a regular thing now, these nights at his place. Sometimes it’s movie marathons or ordering takeout and falling into fits of laughter over the ridiculous stuff Chimney posts in the group chat. Other times, it’s quieter—Evan showing you a new recipe he found, the two of you talking about everything and nothing until you lose track of time.

Tonight, it’s pizza and a game of Mario Kart. Buck is predictably terrible at it, and you’re halfway through a victory lap when he nudges your arm, sending your controller flying out of your hands.

“Cheater!” you exclaim, shoving him back, but he just grins, his eyes crinkling in that way that always makes your stomach flip.

“Don’t hate the player,” he says, his voice teasing.

You roll your eyes, reaching for your controller, but before you can grab it, Buck’s phone buzzes on the coffee table. He glances at the screen, and you catch the way his expression shifts—just slightly, but enough to make you pause.

“Everything okay?” you ask.

He hesitates, then shrugs. “Yeah, it’s just…Taylor.”

Your stomach tightens. Taylor Kelly. You’d almost forgotten she was back in town.

“What does she want?” you ask, trying to sound casual, though you’re not sure you succeed.

“She’s asking if I want to grab a drink tomorrow night,” Evan says, his tone light, like it’s not a big deal. Like your heart isn’t currently trying to claw its way out of your chest.

“Oh,” you say, because you don’t know what else to say.

Evan looks at you, his expression unreadable. “So, you wouldn’t mind if went out with her, right?”

Your breath catches.

“No, I would,” you say before you can stop yourself.

Evan blinks, clearly surprised. “...Why?”

You open your mouth, but no words come out. What are you supposed to say? That the thought of him with someone else makes you want to scream? That you’ve been lying to yourself for months, pretending you didn’t feel something for him because you were too afraid of what it might mean?

“The next race is starting,”

Evan’s gaze lingers on you for a moment, and you think you see something flicker in his eyes—something soft and tentative and terrifying. But then he looks away, and the moment passes.

—

You don’t talk about it after that.

Buck doesn’t bring up Taylor again, and you don’t ask. Things go back to normal—or as close to normal as they can be when you’re still reeling from the weight of what you didn’t say.

But then the rumours start up again. And they’re not about you this time.

It’s small things at first—Hen mentioning that someone from another station spotted Buck and Taylor at a bar downtown, Chimney muttering something about how fast news travels in the firefighter community.

You tell yourself it doesn’t matter. Buck is allowed to see whoever he wants. It’s not like you’re together.

But when Eddie makes an offhand comment during a call—something about Taylor being “good for Buck” as the two of you pack up the rig—you can’t stop the flare of anger that surges in your chest. You force a smile, focusing on the task at hand, but your mind is miles away.

By the time you’re back at the firehouse, the ache in your chest has settled into something sharper, something harder to ignore.

—

That evening, you’re in the locker room when Hen walks in, a knowing look on her face.

“You okay?” she asks, leaning against the lockers.

You glance at her, debating how much to say. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Hen raises an eyebrow. “Come on. You’ve been quiet all day, and I know you heard the same thing I did about Buck and Taylor,”

You freeze, your grip on your locker door tightening. “So what if I did? It’s none of my business.”

Hen studies you for a moment, her expression softening. “You’re right. It’s not. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t bother you,”

You swallow hard, looking away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,”

“Sure, you don’t,” Hen says, her voice dry. “Listen, I’m not trying to push, but maybe it’s time you ask yourself why this is getting under your skin. Because from where I’m standing, it looks a lot like jealousy,”

The word hits you like a slap, even though you know she’s right.

“I’m not jealous,” you say weakly, but Hen just gives you a pointed look before walking away, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

—

You manage to avoid Buck for most of the next day, throwing yourself into work and keeping your interactions with him strictly professional. But it’s not easy. Every time he laughs at something Chimney says or flashes that grin of his, you feel your resolve weaken.

During the next shift, when the team is gathered in the kitchen. Buck is sitting at the table, scrolling through his phone, while the others chat around him.

“Did you see that post Taylor made?” Chim asks, his tone teasing.

Buck looks up, confused. “What post?”

Chim grins, pulling out his own phone. “This one,”

He holds up the screen, and you catch a glimpse of a photo: Buck and Taylor, sitting close together at what looks like a bar. Or you presume so anyway considering his face isn’t actually in the photo. She’s leaning into him, her smile wide and bright.

“Wow,” Eddie says, smirking. “That’s pretty cozy,”

Buck chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not a big deal. We’re just catching up,”

“Sure,” Hen says, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

You force yourself to smile, even as your chest tightens. “Well, I’m glad you’re having fun,” you say, keeping your voice light.

Buck glances at you, his smile faltering. “Yeah. Thanks.”

The conversation shifts, but you barely hear it. All you can think about is that photo, the way Taylor was looking at him, the way he didn’t seem to mind.

—

That night, you’re lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, when your phone buzzes. It’s a text from Buck.

Hey, you okay? You’ve been quiet lately.

You stare at the message, your heart pounding. Part of you wants to ignore it, to pretend everything is fine. But another part of you—the part that’s tired of pretending—knows you can’t keep this up.

Can we talk?

His response is immediate.

Of course. My place?

—

When you arrive at Buck’s apartment, he’s waiting for you at the door, his expression concerned.

“Hey,” he says softly. “What’s going on?”

You step inside, your stomach churning with nerves. “I just…I need to get something off my chest,”

Buck closes the door, his gaze steady. “Okay. I’m listening,”

You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but…I’ve been feeling weird lately. About you. About Taylor,”

Buck frowns, his brow furrowing. “Weird how?”

You look down at your hands, your voice barely above a whisper. “I think I’m jealous,”

The silence that follows is deafening. When you finally look up, Buck is staring at you, his expression unreadable.

“Jealous?” he repeats, like he’s testing the word.

You nod, your cheeks burning. “Yeah. I mean, I know you’re not mine to be jealous over, but I can’t help it. Every time I see you with her, it feels like…” You trail off, struggling to find the right words.

“It feels like what?” Buck asks, his voice quiet.

“Like I’m losing you,” you admit, your throat tight. “And I know I don’t have any right to feel that way, but I do. I can’t help it.”

Buck takes a step closer, his eyes searching yours. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I didn’t know how,” you say, your voice breaking. “And because I was scared. Scared that if I told you how I feel, it would ruin everything.”

Buck’s expression softens, and before you can say anything else, he’s pulling you into a hug.

“You’re not losing me,” he murmurs, his voice firm. “You couldn’t lose me if you tried.”

You close your eyes, letting his words wash over you.

When he pulls back, his hands linger on your arms, his gaze steady. “For the record,” he says, his voice soft, “I wasn’t serious about Taylor. It was never anything more than catching up with an old friend,”

Relief floods through you, and you let out a shaky laugh. “Good. Because I think I’d lose my mind if it was,”

Buck grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “So…what does this mean? For us?”

You meet his gaze, your heart pounding. “I don’t know,”

Buck’s smile widens, and for the first time in weeks, the tension in your chest eases. Because whatever happens next, you know one thing for sure: you’re done pretending.

And so is he.

“I think I do,”

[redocity]

my essays are finished 💪💪💪💪💪

i’m gonna crack out the remaining requests for the sleepover event and then we shall be back into the swing of things

[redocity]

Howdy!

How have you been?

Just checking in

hi !!! completely swamped with essays for my degree atm but i should be in the clear by the end of the week 🫡🫡🫡

[redocity]

Love love your writing. Very binge worthy. You are absolutely talented❤️❤️

thank you so much !! i’m glad you enjoy reading my stuff <333

[redocity]

18) fucking in the bar bathroom and being too drunk to care about being quiet for the redoliday sleepover please??

i’m thinking post!tommy buck reverting to buck 1.0 to stop himself from calling tommy again (fem!reader please)

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 — 𝐄.𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐘

18) fucking in the bar bathroom and being too drunk to care about being quiet

3) depression sex in order to feel something good for once

evan buckley x fem!reader | 2.1k | smut | masterlist.

WARNINGS | THIS POST IS 18+ MDNI, semi-public sex, unprotected piv, both the reader and buck are heavily intoxicated, bathroom sex, one night stand, buck and reader don’t know each other’s names, rebound sex (for buck)

𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝐤𝟐𝟒 !!

a/n — i combined these two asks bc it felt right to me, hope that’s okay !!

Buck was not feeling it tonight.

Being dragged to a bar by the team for a night out whilst he’s still knee-deep in trying to social distance from his phone so he doesn’t call Tommy was an actual nightmare.

He needed a distraction, yes, but being surrounded by horny couples all over each other wasn’t exactly helping.

That’s about when he started drinking.

Buck wasn't just drinking. He was throwing them back. Tequila, whiskey, a beer or two—it was a reckless concoction, but the buzz creeping through his veins was exactly what he needed. It dulled the ache in his chest, the one he was desperately trying to smother with alcohol and fleeting distractions—but not enough to drown out the thoughts of Tommy completely.

He hated this. Hated how every drink brought his face back into focus instead of erasing it. Hated how every laugh in the bar sounded just a little like his. And, most of all, hated how the team was doing everything they could to make sure he wasn’t alone with his phone long enough to text him.

It wasn’t like he wanted to call Tommy. He knew that was a bad idea. But the temptation sat in his pocket, a constant reminder that he wasn’t his anymore, no matter how many times he unlocked his phone and stared at his number.

“Buck,” Hen said, sliding into the stool next to him with a raised eyebrow. “You’re not thinking about what I think you’re thinking about, are you?”

He scoffed, knocking back another drink and ignoring the way his jaw tightened at the question. “I’m thinking about how terrible your taste in bars is, actually. Who even picked this place?”

Hen narrowed her eyes but let it slide. “Alright, Buckaroo. Just… don’t do anything stupid, okay? I’m watching you.”

The implication was clear, and Buck gave her a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

But the second Hen turned her attention back to the others, Buck’s gaze shifted. He scanned the crowd, looking for something—someone—to drown out the noise in his head. And that’s when he spotted it.

You were leaning against the bar, laughing at something the bartender said, and the sight hit Buck like a gut punch. You weren’t doing anything special, just existing, but there was something about the way your smile lit up the room that pulled him in.

So he did what past him did best: turned off his brain and turned up the charm.

Without thinking, Buck pushed off his stool and made his way toward you.

“Hey,” he said, flashing a grin that was a little too confident for someone who’d just downed several drinks. “I don’t know if it’s the lighting in here, or if you’re just naturally this stunning, but you’re kind of making the rest of us look bad.”

You looked up, surprised but amused by his approach. “Smooth. Is that your go-to line?”

Buck chuckled, leaning against the bar beside you. “Only when it works.”

You smile, and all of Buck’s inhibitions disappear.

“You gonna buy me a drink then?”

That was all the invitation he needed.

—

It didn’t take long for things to escalate. Between the shots and the shameless flirting, the two of you were a ticking time bomb. Buck was leaning closer, his hands brushing against yours, and when you laughed at one of his jokes, it felt like a victory.

By the time he pulled you toward the bathroom, you were too drunk to care about the way people stared—or the fact that you didn’t even know his name yet.

The door slammed shut behind you, and Buck was on you in an instant, his lips crashing against yours in a messy, heated kiss. His hands roamed your body like he was trying to memorize every curve, every inch of skin, and you couldn’t get enough of him.

“You’re trouble,” you muttered against his lips, your fingers tangling in his hair.

“Mm, probably,” he agreed, mouthing his way down your neck.

His body was pressed against yours, one hand on your hip as the other explored your body.

He needed tonight. To stop and just have fun for once.

His teeth nipped along your collarbone and his hot breath against your skin sent a shiver down your spine.

His hand roamed, his palm trailing over your stomach and moving higher to cup your breast.

He squeezed gently and your breath hitched.

He took it as an encouragement to continue, his thumb rolling across one harden nipple through the fabric of your dress.

“No bra,” he murmured, his lips at your ear. “Naughty.”

He pressed his hips against you, one of his legs pushing between your own and rubbing against your core through your underwear.

You gasped in response, your head falling back as he continued to explore your body, one hand drifting down to grasp your bare thigh, lifting your leg up so it hooked around his hip.

He ground himself into you and a low moan escaped his lips, his head dropping forward to rest on your shoulder. “Jesus,” he muttered, his voice slightly winded.

You tugged on his hair, angling his head up so you could kiss him again. You didn’t want to talk to him, and you definitely didn’t have the patience to.

Buck pushed you against the sink, pinning you between the cold metal and his hard body while he explored your mouth with his tongue like he was a starving man and you were his meal.

His hands roamed, tracing heated trails over your skin, pushing under the hem of your dress.

He needed more, more of you.

One of his hands slid up your inner thigh, under your dress, and towards the heat he felt there, the other tugging harshly at his belt.

He managed to get his pants undone, with a little bit of struggle with his inhibited coordination, the zipper loud in the otherwise silent bathroom as the demon hit the floor.

He pushed your dress further up, lifting it over your hips as he tried to make it easier to access you, breaking the kiss only so he could concentrate on what he was doing, his breath ragged as he tugged your underwear to the side.

He glanced down to admire the way you were presented to him, like a perfectly wrapped gift, and he groaned.

His eyes were dark when he looked back up at your face, and he leaned in close to you. “I’m going to ruin you,” he murmured against your lips.

It’d been so long since he’d had anyone like this, a meaningless hookup in a bar with so much alcohol running through his system he felt lightheaded.

He needed this, this feeling of being in control of something in his life when everything else was so screwed up. He needed to bury himself in you and just forget.

With a few precursors pumps of his cock, buck lined himself up with you and slowly started to sink into what he knew would be a much needed release.

He’d been hard since you’d given him the once over and he was desperate for it, to finally find some kind of relief for the loneliness he’d been feeling lately.

His hips pushed deep, trying to fill the aching void inside of him. The need to forget his loneliness for a few hours. And god were your moans helping him forget.

Once he’d bottomed out he set a brutal pace, hips slamming into yours, the tile of the restroom wall cool against your bare back. He didn’t have the dignity to be nice, not tonight.

His hands were rough on your skin, almost to the point of pain, but there was a certain comfort in it. His head dipped, lips sucking and nipping at any stretch of skin he could reach.

He shifted, tugging on the underside of your thighs to change the angle slightly, and a harsh moan slipped past your lips. He’d hit a sensitive spot, and you arched into him, your body shivering.

He let out a soft noise of his own, his pace unrelenting, and his mouth returned to your neck. He nipped and sucked at the expanse of skin, the sounds of his hips slapping into yours and your gasps echoing loudly in the small bathroom.

He could taste the salt on your skin, the alcohol still on your lips, and it just made him want more.

He needed to get closer, to just bury himself into your tight heat and never come up for air. He didn’t want to think about the outside world, about how much he’d screwed up his life lately.

He just wanted to lose himself in you.

He shifted, his arm hooking under your knee so he could angle your hips up, pressing your thigh to your chest.

He could go deeper like this, and god did he want to go deeper.

You arched into him, your breaths coming out in small pants as he drove you mindless with pleasure.

He was everywhere, his body hard and warm against yours, his lips and teeth hot against your skin, the sound of his breath in your ear.

It was all too much and yet not enough, and you whimpered, needing more of anything and everything he was giving you.

Your nails bit into his back, hands scrambling for purchase on his skin. You tried to pull him closer, to get him even deeper into you and he obliged, his pace quickening and his hips snapping against yours.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he let out a strangled moan. His body trembled against you, the pressure in his stomach building, and he could feel his restraint fraying.

He was close, and he needed to find his release.

His hips started to go jerky, rhythm faltering, his arms wrapping tightly around you to pull you closer, his body tense all over as he tried to hold himself back.

He bit down on your shoulder, the sensation sending a shock through your body.

“God, I need to come—” he panted into your ear.

He was so close, hanging right on the edge, but he needed you to fall first.

“Need you to come first,” he said, his voice thick.

He buried his face against your neck, his hands roaming over your body, one of them slipping between you to find the sensitive bundle of nerves that he knew would help urge you along.

He knew he was good at this, that he knew what he was doing. He was good with his hands and his mouth and his words, knew all the ways to make a woman lose control.

He found your clit easily, knowing you were probably already close, just needed a bit of a push.

He could feel it in the tremble of your body, the way you kept letting out these little sounds that were driving him wild, how your hand was gripping his hair to the point he was sure it was going to hurt when he left.

And the clench. God the way you tightened around him made him feel dizzy.

And then it was a gush, solidified with a heavy breath and your legs trembling in the aftershock.

“God, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he panted as he slowly withdrew from you.

He took his weight off of you by planting one arm next to your head, his head dropping to bury itself in the crook of your neck, his breathing still heavy and uneven as he finished himself off with his hand.

He didn’t know how messy he’d made either of you, and at that moment, he was a little too blissed out to care.

He just hoped that whoever owned this bathroom knew how to clean it properly.

He stood unmoving against you for several moments while he caught his breath, trying to process what had just happened.

—

“Uh, guys?” Chimney strides over to stand between Eddie and Hen, eyebrows furrowed in a line that looked harsher underneath the dim lighting. “We lost Buck—”

[redocity]

buck x cop reader with 7) finding a somewhat private area at a fancy party to fuck (coat closet, empty office, secluded corner on the big balcony, hedge maze if we wanna get dramatic, etc) and 2) hate fucking because of the whole rivalry thing between cops and firefighters

𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭 — 𝐄.𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐘

7) finding a somewhat private area at a fancy party to fuck (coat closet, empty office, secluded corner on the big balcony, hedge maze if we wanna get dramatic, etc)

2) hate fucking

even buckley x fem!cop!reader | 1.5k | smut | masterlist.

WARNINGS | THIS POST IS 18+ MDNI. unprotected piv, buck dirty talks a whole lot, arguing during and after sex, creampie, porn no plot, uniformed sex, semi-public sex

𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 !!

“Just fuck me already—”

How did you get here?

“Yeah, you’re a cop alright,” Buck huffed with a smile, gripping your hips and angling your ass upwards. “Impatient.”

Dragged into an empty office during a first-responders after party, Cargo pants tugged half way down your thighs.

“And you’re a firefighter,” You muttered back, forearms planted on the desk. “Cocky.”

And by a firefighter no less.

“You like it,” he responded, voice low in your ear.

He pushed two fingers inside you without warning, a breath leaving his parted lips.

“You’re the one who let me drag you in here, remember?”You squeeze your eyes closed as he curls his fingers upwards, a sharp breath breaking through your nose.

“You could have run away at any time but you didn’t. You want this,” he whispered, using his other hand to undo his belt.

“I wonder what your superiors would think— knowing that you’re getting fucked in a back office of some random party,” The sound of denim hitting the floor behind you, and the withdrawal of his fingers forces your eyes open again, an involuntary noise of disgruntlement leaving your throat.

“I bet they’d be shocked knowing that you’re getting pounded by someone that you didn’t even give your name too.” He lined himself up against your entrance, pushing inside torturously slow.

“God, they’d be pissed if they knew you were getting bent over by a— oh Jesus- by a Firefighter,” Seemingly half way through, Buck loses his patience, bottoming out with a harsh thrust that doesn’t stop at just that.

“So tight— fuck—” He groaned, his hands gripping your hips as he set his pace, one you didn’t have any say in, not that you minded anyway.

Neither of you were completely inebriated, but a bit of alcohol made the whole situation a bit more fun—less worrying, if you will.

And honestly, at this point, what really could go wrong?

“Bet no one back at HQ knows you’ve got a pretty little cunt like this—” He breathes out a groan. “God-”

You bite back a groan of your own with your reply. “Do you always talk this much-?”

Buck didn’t seem to appreciate that question.

The sounds of skin clapping against skin were pretty loud in the confined space of the office, most definitely not helped by the occasional groans and whimpers shared between the two of you as Buck hardened the impact of his thrusts.

Anyone walking down the corridor outside would definitely know what you’d been up to.

He pushed your torso against the desk, his pace fast—furious—his grunts and curse words coming from behind you.

“Jesus you’re so tight—” he bit out, head lolling backwards and mouth left open in pleasure “Should’ve - oh- should’ve known you were a good fucking lay, just looking at you-”

God, how did you two end up like this?

You were bent over a desk in some random private office, getting railed by a firefighter you met less than an hour ago and loving every minute of it.

“You gonna come for me? You gonna come all over my cock?” He panted, one hand gripping your shoulder, the other coming down to your waist.

And obviously, the answer was a resounding yes.

The way you were feeling—his touch the sound of his voice, all of it was just so perfect. And as you came you were certain that this experience had ruined you for anyone else.

Buck would definitely never forget the sounds that were coming from you, the way you felt around him as you came, he knew that for sure.

He’d probably be thinking about this for weeks.

His pace became more frantic after that—desperate— chasing his own release and leaving you no time to recover from your own.

“You’re so fucking good—” he muttered, his hands gripping you, pulling you as close to him as possible. “Gonna fill you up-”

He was getting so close, and the temptation to spill his spend inside you was so present he couldn’t really refuse himself. “Gonna fill you up and let you go back to- oh Jesus- let you go back to the party with my come inside you-”

The image that it put in his head was just so perfect.

“Let you walk back out there- oh- let you talk to your colleagues while they all have no idea—”

They’d all wish they were him.

“No one- no one knowing that you’ve had your brains fucked out by a Firefighter—”

And the thought was so good—seeing you later, talking to all the people at that party, knowing that the reason you looked so flushed was because of him.

“And you’re gonna walk over and make small talk- pretend you’re not thinking about my come leaking out of you-”

Because honestly, he’d be shocked if you could think about anything else, if you weren’t still feeling him hours after this.

“Then you’re gonna find me and we’ll do it all over again-” Like hell was this ending tonight.

And that was it.

The last straw.

As his imagination ran away, his mind filled with thoughts of what you’d look like in the morning—after he’d gotten you alone again, that knot in his stomach finally snapped.

He came with a loud moan, his hips stuttered against yours, his hands on your waist gripping you so hard that you’d most definitely have little fingerprint shaped-bruises come morning.

He was completely fine with that.

The both of you just stayed like that for a few moments, your chests heaving. But slowly, he pulled out and took a few steps back, his eyes not once leaving you as he watches the drips of his spend drip down your thighs.

He was practically hard again by the time he tucked himself into his boxers and his pants, a sudden overwhelming urge to fuck you all over again encroaching on his conscience.

But he did have some self control.

He watched as you pushed yourself up—barely able to make yourself stand straight and he couldn’t help but mentally pat himself on the back. He watched you fix your clothes, your hands a little shaky, and a smile crept onto his face.

He’d done that to you.

He took another step back, his eyes on your face, watching a few different things pass through your features.

It seemed like you finally remembered where you were, what you’d both just done.

“Wow,” he said, his tone teasing, almost mocking. He ran a hand through his hair, still watching as you tried to regain some sort of composure.

“You alright there, officer?” He leaned against the edge of the desk, his eyes still roaming your body as you straightened yourself out.

“Yes- I’m fine,” you tried to sound annoyed but he’d be able to hear the breathless tone in your voice—god he was so full of himself.

“You sure?” He feigned innocence. “You look a little… disheveled,” he added, letting his eyes rake over you once more.

You tried to glare at him, but the effect was ruined by the fact that you were still out of breath.

Honestly, the bastard was far too arrogant for his own good.

“Don’t inflate your own ego, it’s unbecoming,”

He feigned offense, a hand going up to his heart. “Officer, I am a hero,” he said, his tone overly dramatic, “Firefighters are literally the most humble first responders.”

“Yeah, you really seem like the picture of humility,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

“Oh please,” he said, a smile pulling at his lips, “Just say you enjoyed yourself. You’ll feel better,”

You wanted to hate him, you really did.

He was cocky and conceited and so full of himself, but you also couldn’t deny the fact that - for some reason - it all just made him so damn attractive.

“I hate you” you muttered, your eyes on the ground.

“No, you don’t,” he said, his voice so confident, so cocky, that it almost made you wanna punch him in his beautiful face.

“You don’t hate me, you think I’m hot as all hell,” he took a few steps closer, a smirk on his face, “and you love how I made you feel tonight.”

Damn him and his piercing blue eyes and his cocky smile and his stupid gorgeous body.

The bastard was absolutely right, and you hated every last bit of it.

“Get outta here, asshole,”

He smiles.

“Meet me out back in an hour,”

[redocity]

>> Person A starts calling person B during their lunch break everyday. Person A's coworkers, who they USED to hang out with during lunch, are all super interested in this new supposed paramour. They start gossiping, theorizing, as well as hustling person A trying to get information about person B like its high school.

For your holiday event?

𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤’𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 — 𝐄.𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐘

Person A starts calling person B during their lunch break everyday. Person A's coworkers, who they USED to hang out with during lunch, are all super interested in this new supposed paramour. They start gossiping, theorizing, as well as hustling person A trying to get information about person B like its high school.

evan buckley x fem!reader | fluff | 1.2k | masterlist.

𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 !!

You’ve gotten used to your phone ringing right around noon. It’s become something you look forward to, the sight of “Evan Buckley” flashing on your screen making your heart flutter in a way you’d never admit to him—not yet, at least.

The first time he called, it was unexpected. You had barely unwrapped your sandwich when your phone buzzed, and his voice greeted you, cheerful and warm. “Hey! Just thought I’d check in and see how your day’s going.”

Since then, it’s become routine.

Buck calls you during his lunch break without fail, whether he’s at the firehouse, in the field, or even in the middle of a chaotic day. For half an hour, you talk about anything and everything: the weird things your coworkers do, the absurdities of his job, and those little moments that don’t seem like much until you share them with someone who listens the way Buck does.

What you don’t know is that your calls have not gone unnoticed.

—

At the 118, lunchtime used to mean loud banter and ridiculous debates. Buck was always in the middle of it, whether he was challenging Chimney to a chili-eating contest or trying to convince Eddie to finally pick a side in their pineapple-on-pizza debate.

Now?

Buck’s spot at the table is often empty, his voice heard only as he heads to a quieter corner of the station, phone pressed to his ear.

And it’s driving his coworkers insane.

“Who do you think he’s talking to?” Chimney asks, leaning back in his chair and squinting toward the kitchen, where Buck has just disappeared, phone in hand.

“Obviously someone special,” Hen says with a knowing smile.

“Special how?” Eddie raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, come on,” Hen says. “He’s sneaking off every day, giggling like a teenager. It’s gotta be a new relationship.”

Chimney’s eyes light up. “Wait—are we talking girlfriend material? Or is this like… a *situationship*? Because you know Buck.”

“Maybe it’s neither,” Eddie says, though even he doesn’t sound convinced.

The gossip escalates quickly. Chimney starts jotting down theories on the whiteboard in the common area, turning it into a full-on investigation.

Hen provides commentary, while Eddie does his best to pretend he isn’t interested—even though he’s quietly keeping track of Buck’s absences during lunch.

“Do you think it’s someone from his gym?” Chimney speculates one day.

“Could be,” Hen replies. “Or maybe it’s someone he met on one of those dating apps. You know how Buck is.”

“What if it’s a long-distance thing?” Eddie chimes in, finally caving in showing his interest.

“That would explain why he’s always on the phone,” Chimney agrees, scribbling it down.

They even try to corner Buck for answers, which only makes him laugh.

“Come on, guys,” he says one afternoon, grinning as he leans against the kitchen counter. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not that big of a deal?” Hen echoes. “Buck, you’ve practically abandoned us for this mystery caller. I think we deserve to know who’s stealing you away.”

“Yeah,” Chimney adds, crossing his arms. “Give us a name. Or at least a hint.”

Buck just shakes his head, clearly enjoying the attention. “You’ll find out eventually,” he says. “We’re just— taking it slow for now,”

—

The truth is, you have no idea any of this is happening.

To you, Buck is just Buck: funny, kind, and entirely too charming for his own good. You don’t think twice about his daily calls or the way he seems genuinely interested in every little detail you share with him.

You certainly don’t realise that his coworkers have turned your lunch break chats into a full-blown conspiracy.

One day, as you’re finishing up a story about the vending machine at work eating your dollar, Buck laughs—a soft, happy sound that makes your stomach do a little flip.

“You know,” he says, “I think my friends are starting to get jealous of you.”

“Jealous of me?” you ask, confused.

“Yeah,” he says. “They’re all trying to figure out who I’m talking to during lunch every day. It’s kind of hilarious.”

You pause, sandwich halfway to your mouth. “Wait. Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” Buck replies, his grin evident even through the phone. “Chimney’s got this whole theory board going. Hen’s playing detective. And Eddie—well, he’s pretending he doesn’t care, but I know he’s keeping track.”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up before you can stop it. “You’re telling me the 118 is trying to solve me like I’m some kind of mystery?”

“Pretty much,” Buck says, and there’s that warmth in his voice again, the kind that makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world. “It’s actually kind of sweet. In a very weird, invasive way—”

“What do they think? That I’m your secret spy contact? Your long-lost twin?”

“Oh, the theories are wild,” he says, leaning against the wall of the firehouse kitchen. “Long-distance girlfriend, someone I met in a bar, a *matchmaker* trying to help me find someone else—Hen’s personal favorite, by the way.”

“Wow,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief. “I didn’t realise our calls’d become the talk of the firehouse.”

“Don’t worry,” Buck says, his tone softening. “I haven’t told them anything. I like having this… whatever this is, just for us.”

The admission makes your breath catch. It’s the first time he’s really acknowledged the unspoken connection between you, the one that’s grown stronger with every call, every shared laugh, every small moment that feels far bigger than it should.

“I like it too,” you admit, your voice quieter now.

There’s a comfortable silence between you, the kind that speaks louder than words ever could.

“So,” you say eventually, trying to lighten the mood, “what happens if they figure it out?”

“Oh, they will,” Buck says, laughing again. “But until then, I’m having way too much fun letting them wonder. And honestly? I think they’ll love you.”

The words hang in the air, full of meaning you’re not quite ready to unpack.

“Bold assumption, Buckley,” you tease, though your voice is soft, your heart racing. “What makes you think they’ll even meet me?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” he says confidently, and there’s that grin again, the one you can hear even without seeing it. “One day, I’m going to bring you by the station. You know, when we’re ready.”

“When we’re ready,” you echo, the words settling somewhere deep in your chest.

“Yeah,” Buck says, his voice steady. “And they’ll love you.”

And somehow, you know he means it.

[redocity]

Omg I love the vibes of your holiday sleepover! Can I request “person a's future isn't right if person b isn't right next to them. bonus points if it's something especially insane like person a and b live together and have a family.” from the not quite lovers prompts list?? (fem!reader please <3)

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 — 𝐄.𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐘

person a's future isn't right if person b isn't right next to them. bonus points if it's something especially insane like person a and b live together and have a family.

𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 !!

evan buckley x single mom!reader | 1.4k | fluff | masterlist.

a/n — thank you !! i hope you enjoy 🤭

When you offered Buck your spare room in lieu of his rent struggles, you weren’t sure what you were expecting.

Your son choosing him over you after a nightmare was not it.

“Buck?” your voice was a low whisper as you padded down the hall in your worn socks, stopping just outside the cracked door to your son’s room. The faint glow of a nightlight spilled into the hallway, casting soft shadows.

Inside, you could hear Buck’s low, soothing voice. “It’s okay, bud,” he murmured, a smile audible in his tone. “Monsters don’t stand a chance when I’m around,”

You leaned against the wall, heart squeezing as you peeked through the gap. There was Buck, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside your son’s bed. His broad shoulders filled the small space, and his hands made dramatic gestures as he spun some ridiculous story about how he once scared a ghost away with his “super-cool” ninja moves.

Your son sniffled, half-hiding under the covers, but his giggle broke through the remnants of his tears. “You’re so brave,” he said in a tone full of awe, the kind only a five-year-old could muster.

You couldn’t decide if you were more amused or annoyed. This wasn’t the first time your son had bypassed you entirely to seek out Buck for comfort. In the six months since Buck had moved in, your house had gone from feeling like a quiet, single-parent household to something… different. Cozier. Fuller.

Maybe too full.

“Don’t tell mom I woke up,” Your son whispered loudly, not exactly grasping the ‘secretive’ part of his secret.

Buck grinned, his dimple flashing in the soft light. “Too late for that, buddy.” He glanced up at you, his expression shifting slightly, softer. “We were just handling a little monster trouble.”

“I see that.” You crossed your arms, though there wasn’t any real sternness behind the gesture. “Buck, you don’t have to handle every monster in the house,”

Buck shrugged, unbothered. “I’m basically an expert at this point.”

Your son giggled again, pulling the blanket up to his chin with a determined nod. “He is, Mom,”

You sighed, the faintest smile tugging at your lips. “Alright, monster slayer. Bedtime for real this time.”

Buck stood, ruffling your son’s hair before following you out into the hall. Once the door clicked shut behind him, he turned to you, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweatpants. “He’s got a wild imagination. Just needed a little reassurance,”

“I know,” you said quietly, meeting his gaze. “Thanks for… well, everything.”

“It’s no problem,” he said, his voice equally soft. But something lingered in his expression—a flicker of something you couldn’t quite name before he smiled again, easy and unbothered. “Goodnight,”

“Goodnight, Buck.”

—

The thing about Buck was that he fit into your life far too easily.

At first, you’d chalked it up to circumstance. Buck was your friend—had been for years—and when he mentioned he was struggling to make rent, you’d offered up your spare room without much thought.

It wasn’t charity, you told yourself. It was practical. You had a room, he needed one, and honestly, the idea of having another adult around the house to help with the little things was appealing.

What you hadn’t counted on was how seamlessly Buck would slide into your routines. Within weeks, he wasn’t just helping with the dishes or grabbing groceries on his way home. He was fixing your son’s bike, helping with spelling homework, and somehow—somehow—becoming your son’s favorite person in the house.

It wasn’t just your son, though. Buck had a way of making everyone feel like they were the center of the world. He listened when you vented about work, teased you just enough to pull you out of your funks, and made the house feel a little less lonely.

It terrified you.

You’d been so careful since your ex had left. Careful not to let anyone get too close, not to let yourself rely on someone else again. But Buck had waltzed into your life with his ridiculous laugh and his warm eyes, and he was chipping away at walls you’d worked so hard to build.

You told yourself it was temporary. Buck was just a friend, just your roommate. Eventually, he’d get back on his feet and move on.

But the thought of Buck leaving made your chest tighten in a way you didn’t want to examine too closely.

—

It all came to a head one snowy December evening.

You’d planned a quiet holiday—just you, your son, and Buck, who had casually mentioned that he didn’t have family to spend Christmas with. You’d baked cookies together, decorated the tree, and even endured Buck’s terrible attempt at singing Christmas carols.

Now, the three of you were sprawled out on the couch, a cheesy holiday movie playing in the background. Your son was curled up between you and Buck, his head resting on Buck’s arm as he slowly dozed off.

You should’ve felt content. Instead, you felt like you were teetering on the edge of something big and terrifying.

Buck shifted slightly, glancing down at your son with a fond smile. “He’s out,” he murmured.

“Yeah,” You stared at your son’s peaceful face, your heart aching with love and something else. “He adores you, you know,”

Buck’s smile faltered for just a second before he looked at you. “He’s a great kid. Easy to adore,”

You hesitated, your fingers tightening slightly around the blanket draped over your lap. “It’s not just him,” you said quietly.

Buck’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “You make things… easier. Better. For both of us. I don’t know how we’re supposed to go back to normal when you’re not here anymore,”

For a moment, Buck just stared at you, his expression unreadable. Then he shifted, gently lifting your son and carrying him down the hall to his room. You stayed frozen on the couch, your heart pounding.

When Buck returned, he didn’t sit back down. Instead, he stood in front of you, his hands on his hips and his jaw tight. “You think I’d just leave?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Wouldn’t you?”

“No,” he said firmly. “Not unless you told me to.”

Your breath hitched. “Buck…”

He sat down beside you, closer this time, his knees brushing against yours. “I don’t know how to say this without making things weird,” he said, his voice low. “But I don’t think I can picture my future without you and your kid in it. You’re… home to me. Both of you.”

Your throat felt tight. “You mean that?”

“Yeah.” His gaze was steady, unflinching. “I know it’s crazy. I know we’re just roommates or whatever, but… it doesn’t feel like just that to me.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you hated how vulnerable you felt. But Buck didn’t look away. He didn’t run.

Instead, he reached out, his hand brushing against yours. “If you want me to go, I’ll go,” he said softly. “But if you’ll let me stay… I’m all in. For both of you.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. Slowly, you turned your hand over, your fingers curling around his.

“Stay,” you whispered.

Buck’s smile was soft, his eyes shining. “Okay.”

And just like that, your future finally felt right.

[redocity]

Can we get a sneak peak of some of your wip

sure !! here are some paragraphs from fics i’ve got in the works <3

[untitled] hurt/comfort—smut : scarred!reader, body worship

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice so full of sincerity that it nearly broke you. “Every part of you. Every scar, every piece of who you are. Beautiful.”

[untitled] smut : fake-dating pushed to the limit

“That girl won’t leave me alone. I’ve tried being nice, but she’s not taking the hint. I need you to... I don’t know, pretend we’re together or something. She’s watching us right now.”

[untitled] angst : past abusive relationship, diaz!reader, bf!buck

He doesn’t listen. He never listens. He shoves you into the passenger seat of his car, slamming the door before running around to the driver’s side. You fumble with the lock, but he’s too fast, and soon the car is speeding down the street, the flashing lights of the police and fire trucks receding behind you.

[untitled] fluff : beekeeper!reader, 08X01 spoilers, established!relationship

Buck grinned despite the situation. “Yeah, floral and banana smells make them mad, right? So, no one’s eating anything fruity, we’re good on that front. I’m feeding them your info as we go. Oh, and I brought your honey to the station again, everyone’s obsessed with it.”

[redocity]

𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝐤𝟐𝟒 ᯓ ★

happy holidays everyone !!

in spirit of the giving season, i wanted to extend the invitation to join my ‘holiday sleepover event’ <3

↳ aka, i’m gonna supply you guys with some prompt lists, and if any catch your eye, send them in as a request and i’ll write it out ! ( list of all the fics for this event is below the cut )

this event has now ended as of the 1st of january 2025‼️

feel free to send multiple prompts in one request (as long as you specify which list they’re from), and make sure to check my request guidelines before making any requests !

please do not request smut prompts if you are under 18, thank you.

ᯓ grumpy x sunshine prompts.

ᯓ not quite lovers prompts.

ᯓ fluffy prompts.

ᯓ smut prompts. 2. 3.

disclaimer : these prompt lists were not made by me, go and check out the original creators’ pages <3

[ key ] 💃/smut 🐞/angst 🍓/fluff

1.4k | they were roommates. ( 🍓 : person a's future isn't right if person b isn't right next to them. bonus points if it's something especially insane like person a and b live together and have a family.)

1.2k | buck’s favourite secret. ( 🍓 : Person A starts calling person B during their lunch break everyday. Person A's coworkers, who they USED to hang out with during lunch, are all super interested in this new supposed paramour. They start gossiping, theorizing, as well as hustling person A trying to get information about person B like its high school.)

1.5k | officer impatient. ( 💃 : 7) finding a somewhat private area at a fancy party to fuck. 2) hate fucking)

2.1k | trouble. ( 💃 : 18) fucking in the bar bathroom and being too drunk to care about being quiet. 3) depression sex in order to feel something good for once.)

2.0k | rumours ≠ lies. ( 🍓🐞 : “so you wouldn't mind if i got with person c, right?" "no, i would mind." "...why?" (silence) — and — Dating rumors but they don't deny them.)

[redocity]

i’ve lowk been thinking about Buck with a piss kink..

( this post is 18+ MDNI )

let’s be so for real, if anyone in the 118 was gonna have a piss kink, of course it’s be sex freak buckley

he probably discovered it by accident during one of his sexcapades, like i know a lot of guys have said that they tend to piss when they cum just because of the pressure and they can’t differentiate, so like one time he accidentally does both at the same time and when he pulls out he’s like “wait a second—”

maybe it’s to do with the texture it makes his release afterwards, all runny and sticky so it travels further down his partner’s body.

maybe it’s the fact that it’s so messy, and leaves physical traces of what he’s done absolutely everywhere.

maybe it’s the pressure that makes every stroke of his cock feel ten times more intense, or the humiliation that comes along with it.

even if he didn’t concretely have a piss link, he’s definitely tried it at least once—

[redocity]

just out of curiosity

[redocity]

I just had a cute idea, feel free to say no! What if (post Tommy) Buck has been dating F! Reader for a few months and she has already met the team, She loves Christmas and misses her nephews and nieces back home , and offers to take all the 118 kids for the day so the parents can do some shopping or go out on a date …etc , and she has all sorts of activities planned. Walking around to look at Christmas lights with hot chocolate, a Christmas movie night, gingerbread house decorating, cookie baking, matching pj’s etc.. and Buck (who has no clue) shows up to the readers house to see why she has been ignoring him all day, and sees her house full of his best friends kids.

COMMUNAL CHRISTMAS — E.BUCKLEY

buck comes home to his loving girlfriend… and a house full of kids?

evan buckley x fem!reader | 1.0k | fluff | masterlist.

a/n — y’all know i had to get out a christmas themed fic

Buck had been feeling it all day—the gnawing pit in his stomach that something was off.

You hadn’t answered his texts or calls since the morning, which was wildly out of character for you. Sure, he knew you were busy, but it wasn’t like you to ghost him completely.

By the time his shift ended, he couldn’t take it anymore. Buck grabbed his jacket, told Eddie he’d see him tomorrow, and headed straight to your house.

Pulling into your driveway, he was greeted by an unusual sight: colourful Christmas lights blinking merrily in every window. Your house looked like it had been plucked from a holiday movie. And parked haphazardly along the curb even your car was decorated, and not only that, fitted with car seats and mobility aids in the backseats.

“What the hell?” Buck muttered to himself, frowning as he climbed out of his Jeep.

The moment he stepped up to the front door, he heard laughter. A lot of laughter. Tiny voices were shouting, giggling, and squealing in delight, and it sounded like absolute chaos in there.

Curious and slightly alarmed, Buck knocked once before trying the door. It wasn’t locked—because of course you trusted everyone—and he pushed it open cautiously.

“Babe?” he called, stepping inside.

The smell hit him first: sugar, cinnamon, and chocolate mingled with the faintest hint of pine. The sight hit him next.

There, in the middle of the kitchen, stood Christopher, Denny, and Jee-Yun, each proudly wearing matching red-and-green Christmas pyjamas. Denny was wielding a frosting-covered spatula, Chris had powdered sugar dusting his nose, and Jee-Yun was cradling what looked like an entire bowl of sprinkles, despite the fact she seemed to be barred from actually using them as of yet.

Surrounding them were trays of cookies in various states of decoration, bowls of frosting, and a table that had clearly seen better days.

Off to the side, Mara was meticulously adjusting the decorations on a gingerbread house, her face scrunched in concentration.

And there you were, in the middle of it all, wearing pajamas that matched the kids’, flour streaked across your cheek as you handled the electric mixer for whatever you were making now.

It reminded him of his baking kick in an odd way, although this one was decidedly for a much more sweet reason.

“Buck!” Chris’s voice rang out, followed by an enthusiastic wave. The boy nearly toppled out of his raised stool with his turn. “You’re here,”

You turned at the sound of Chris’s voice, your expression softening the moment you spotted Buck standing in the doorway, looking like he’d just walked into an alternate dimension.

“Hi, baby,” you said warmly, as though this was all perfectly normal.

“Uh...what is going on?” Buck finally managed, gesturing at the scene in front of him.

You set down your mixer and crossed the room to him, gently brushing some powdered sugar off your shoulder. “You’ve been ignoring me all day,” he pointed out, though his tone lacked any real heat.

You grinned sheepishly. “I wasn’t ignoring you. I’ve just been a little busy.”

“No kidding,” Buck muttered, glancing back at the kids. Jee-Yun had somehow managed to dump an entire handful of sprinkles on the floor, and Denny was laughing so hard he could barely stand.

“I told the team I’d take the kids today,” you explained. “You know, so everyone could get some shopping done or have a little alone time,”

Buck blinked at you, dumbfounded. “You volunteered to take all the kids? By yourself?”

You shrugged, the corner of your mouth twitching into a smirk. “I like kids. And I’ve got a system. We’ve already baked cookies, made gingerbread houses, and watched The Polar Express. Next up is baking this fruitcake with hot chocolate, then a Christmas movie marathon.”

“Wow,” Buck said, his voice laced with awe. He glanced at Chris, who was now grinning ear to ear, and then back at you. “You really went all out.”

“Of course I did,” you replied with a wink. “It’s Christmas.”

Buck stared at you for a moment, his chest tightening with something warm and unnameable. You had just taken on a roomful of kids—his friends’ kids—and turned their day into a Christmas wonderland, all without asking for anything in return.

“Have I mentioned how amazing you are?” Buck said softly, his voice low enough that the kids wouldn’t overhear.

Your cheeks flushed, but you leaned in closer, the smile on your face growing even wider. “Not in the last twenty-four hours, but I’ll take it.”

Buck grinned and leaned down to kiss you, only to be interrupted by a chorus of giggles from the kids.

“Ewwww!” Mara exclaimed, covering her eyes.

“Get a room!” Denny added, though he was laughing so hard he could barely get the words out.

Chris just smiled knowingly, his gaze flicking between you and Buck.

Buck pulled back with a chuckle, shaking his head as he took in the room again. “Alright, what’s next? Need any help wrangling this lot?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Think you can handle it?”

He grinned, stepping further into the chaos. “Challenge accepted.”

By the time the night ended, the kids were all asleep, curled up in a pile of blankets on your living room floor, the glow of the Christmas tree casting soft light over their peaceful faces.

Buck stood next to you, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you both looked down at the little group. “You know,” he whispered, “this might be my favorite Christmas ever.”

You leaned into him, your heart full. “Mine too.”

[redocity]

smut prompt list no. 2

1) overwhelmed, but happy crying during sex 

2) crying crying during sex that leads to a pause or early end to comfort and take care of whatever emotions bubbled over 

3) depression sex in order to feel something good for once

4) messy drunk sex that is then forgotten the morning after

5) filming it, either for private purposes or because they’re amateur pornstars

6) mutual masturbation

7) spying on/walking in on their partner touching themself 

8) sex in exchange for a favour

9) car sex

10) quiet airplane bathroom sex

11) touching the other while at the movies

12) sex while there is the background noise of a rainstorm outside

13) being snowed in together and fucking in front of the fireplace 

14) pool/hot tub sex

15) stargazing that turns into sex

16) the classic “oh, let me help you put some sunscreen on” but then the little massage turns into something more

17) sex while camping

18) fucking in the bar bathroom and being too drunk to care about being quiet 

19) when the teasing in the dressing room gets a little too hot

20) shower/bath sex