redocity

[redocity]

thank you guys for 100 followers!!! next fic is in progress and should be uploaded soon i promise 🫶

#thank you <3 #9 1 1 #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader

[redocity]

two fire engines rolled into my street about five minutes ago and the first thing that i thought about was 9-1-1 and not the fact that my neighbour’s kitchen was on fire—

sorry neighbours i’ve got priorities 😭

#9 1 1 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #evan buckley x reader #9 1 1 fanfiction

[redocity]

kinda emergency request. Okay so I’m super sick right now but I also had a lot to get done this week so I pushed through and ended up collapsing. It was a whole thing and I went to the hospital for a few days. I hadn’t eaten cause I was nauseous or slept because I was in pain. Any way would it be possible to get a Evan Buckley x reader on that. Sorry it’s a lot I know! But thank you!

PUSH THROUGH — E.BUCKLEY

Being sick and being a firefighter were two things that should never exist at the same time. when you push yourself a little too hard and end up collapsing, buck gets more than a little worried.

WARNINGS: gn!reader, sick reader, mentions of nausea and wanting to throw up, reader faints

evan buckley x reader || hurt/comfort || 3.0k || requests open!

a/n: i hope you’re alright and get better soon!

₊ ⊹ masterlist!!

Being a firefighter was hard. It consisted of long and physically taxing workdays, a lot of mental scarring, and most prominently, a lack of regular breaks.

Some days were okay, slow days where you only had three or four calls in a 12 hour shift, but on days like today, where you had spent a grand total on 35 minutes in the station in the last six hours —with the first 20 of those being before your shift even started— being a firefighter felt like you were living through your own personal hell.

“Hey—” Buck nudges you with his elbow, and you blink your eyes shortly before turning your gaze to him with a small hum, breaking yourself out of your dissociation of staring blankly across the lounge room.

“I’ve been calling your name for like a whole minute, are you okay?” Buck’s eyebrows furrow in an obvious concern for your well being, a dark line forming at the top of the bridge of his nose that you fight the urge to smooth out with the pad of your thumb.

You might have an unprofessional friendship with Buck, but even you knew what boundaries were unsafe to cross.

“Mhm, I’m fine,” Your voice is distant even to yourself, like there’s a layer of cotton coating the inside of your ears.

“You’re not though,” Buck presses the back of his hand against your forehead to feel for a temperature, and you swat it away lightly with a small shake of your head, something that does nothing in disproving Buck’s theory. “You’re all quiet and warm, and I can see your hands shaking,”

You clasp your hands together at the last part, interlocking your fingers and holding them securely in your lap so that they can’t move without your consent anymore. “I’m fine,”

He sighs at your continued dismissal. It was obvious that you weren’t okay, so why would you keep trying to pretend like you were? “Have you eaten anything yet? Maybe you should eat something, you know, replenish all of those nutrients or whatever,”

“Okay Dr Buckley, no need to treat me like a five year old,” You roll your eyes with a short laugh, and a small smile etches it’s way onto Buck’s face at the flicker of your usual personality shining through despite your current condition. “I’m not hungry right now—” Buck opens his mouth to argue, but you hold up your hand before he can get a word out. “—But, i’ll see about getting something after our next call okay?”

He lets out a short breath through his nose as he concedes defeat, leaning back against the lounge sofa dramatically. “Fine, but I will make sure of that,”

You hope he doesn’t.

You’d tried to make yourself a piece of dry, bland toast this morning to quell the growing ache in your stomach from how little you’d fed yourself over the last two days, but it ended up with you feeling so sick that you had to take almost ten minutes of your morning doing deep breathing exercises so that you wouldn’t throw it back up again. You didn’t fancy a round two of that.

“Yes sir,” You exaggerate your response through a mock salute, and he gives you a short laugh and a pat of his hand on your lower thigh, squeezing it lightly.

You take the end in the conversation to relax against the back of the sofa, but as soon as the back of your head meets the top of the cushion the alarm rings out and you curse your own downfall.

Buck gives your leg another pat as he stands, holding out his hand for you to take so he can help you to your feet, something which, although you would keep to yourself to stop him from worrying about you even more, you were grateful for in the wake of your staticed vision in the first few second of you standing upright.

—

It wasn’t the worst call in the world, some driver going 10 over the speed limit managed to swerve off the road, over a patch of grass, and land right into somebodies six foot hedge lining their yard. All you had to do was winch the car out and check that the driver didn’t have any injures. It took less than half an hour.

But by the time you climbed back into the truck you felt like you had absolutely no energy left whatsoever, your shoulders slumped and your head limply resting backwards against the headrest in fatigue.

You were just absolutely exhausted, probably not helped by the rough nights you’d been having because of the phantom pains that seemed to plague you whenever you moved so much as an inch.

You considered asking to stay at the station for the next call, or just asking to stay at the station for the rest of your shift entirely at this point. You weren’t sure you’d have the physical capacities to be of any help at all, and if you were to tag along you’d just be a nuisance to everybody else as they tried to do their jobs.

You didn’t have to make that decision yourself, your body made it for you.

Buck had been extra attentive to you on the call, and that didn’t end once the truck parked in the station, he climbed down the truck’s side ladders before you, turning to hold out his hand so you’d have an extra balance point if you needed it whilst climbing down, but instead he was met with your clouded gaze, literally watching the moment your consciousness seems to slip away from your body as your foot misses one of the steps and causes to stumble forward.

He catches your weight him his arms before you can hit the floor, a panicked “Cap!” echoing through the engine bay as he lowers you to lie on the floor with your head resting on his thighs, all colour drained from your face as your eyes flicker underneath your eyelids.

Hen and Chimney are at your side before Bobby is, but he’s not far behind as the rest of the team circle you in concern.

“What happened?” Hen furrows her eyebrows as she watches Chimney check your heart rate, tightening a blood pressure cuff around your arm.

“I don’t know they just collapsed—” Buck’s voice mirrors his expression it’s panic.

“105/70, alright, lay them down on the floor, Eddie, put your jacket underneath their feet,” Hen removes the blood pressure cuff as Buck and Eddie rush to follow her instructions, and her and Chimney share a nod as they both confirm you’re not in any medical danger.

“Are they okay?” Buck hesitates to lie your head on the concrete floor, so his leaves his hand as a barrier between you and the floor.

“They’re fine, it’s just hypotension, do you know if they’ve eaten or drank anything today?” Hen puts a comforting hand on Buck’s shoulder to help calm his panic as the adrenaline from your collapse slowly dissipates.

“I asked if they were hungry earlier and they said they’d eat something later,” Buck presses his lips into a line, feeling mildly guilty about not pushing you to eat something earlier when he had the chance to.

Your head twitches in his hand before he has the time to drill himself into a spiral over it, and soon enough you’re squeezing your eyes shut tighter before flickering them open.

“There you are, welcome back to the land of the living,” Chimney rubs your shoulder with his hand as you wake, and promptly pushes you back to lying flat when you try to sit up. “No, stay there, you’ll only pass out again if you sit up too quickly,”

“What happened?” You squint your eyes under the harsh overhead lights, covering them with the back of your hand.

“You collapsed on the way out of the truck, gave us all a scare there for a moment,” Bobby crosses his arms as he steps into your line of sight, tone carrying reprimand but his expression laced in concern.

“Right… sorry,”

“Don’t apologise,” Bobby shakes his head shortly, “When was the last time you ate?”

“Uh…” You don’t know whether it’s the fact that you’ve just fainted, or the weird angle you’re currently at that’s making you slower than usual. “This morning,”

“It’s almost 4pm—” Buck’s voice announces you of his presence like he hasn’t been protecting your head from the concrete for the last five minutes with his hand, and you crane your head backwards to look up at him.

“I felt sick, I didn’t want to throw up everywhere that’s gross,” You groan slightly as your neck begins to ache. “Can I sit up now?”

“Slowly,” Hen takes your hand as she carefully pulls you to sit upright, and Buck remains on his knees behind you in case you need to lie back down again. “How are you feeling? Still lightheaded?”

“A little,” You rub the knuckle of your thumb over your forehead in an attempt to alleviate some of the tension lingering there, and Hen hums.

“Alright, it’s time for you to eat,” Buck places both of his hands on your shoulders as he stands, squeezing them softly before extending a hand out to help you back onto your feet, which you take without complaint.

“Okay,”

You let Buck lead you up to the open lounge with mild guilt written across your face. Guilt and embarrassment at the fact that you’d passed out in front of everyone.

“Okay, so we’ve got tomato and onion pasta bake, left over macaroni and cheese, uh…” Buck rifles through the fridge for what’s left of different Bobby creations over the last few days. “Ooh there’s lasagna in here, I might have to keep that for myself,”

He knows it’s not the funniest thing he’s ever said, but when he turns back to check on you, the way you’re sat blankly staring at the table doesn’t spell anything good.

“Hey,” Buck abandons his fridge endeavours with a small sigh, walking over to put his hand on your shoulder. “Are you alright? Really?”

You barely so much as acknowledge him, giving him a small hum as you rest your forehead on the palms of your hands. “I think I should go home…”

Your tone causes the worry to flood back into his features. “You have to eat something…”

“I don’t know if I can stomach it right now,” You close your eyes momentarily, slumping forward so your entire upper body weight is resting against your hands. “I still feel sick,”

He can’t really argue with you about that. Nauseousness was a pain in the ass. But that didn’t mean you didn’t need something in your body to help whatever deficit you were going through right now.

He takes a moment to think through his options, biting the inside of his cheek. “Uh… What about a protein shake? I’m pretty sure I left a few packets here somewhere—” Buck leaves your side to look through some of the kitchenette cupboards for protein shake packets he’d stoad hidden from the team.

“Ah,” He makes a sound of triumph as he retrieves them, holding them up above his head as he’s crouched behind the kitchen island so you can see them. “We have…” He turns the packets in his hand one by one. “Chocolate, banana, vanilla, strawberry, and… blueberry, take your pick,”

You give him a look that tells him you’d rather not have any of them, and a worry line forms in his forehead once more. “Come on… It’s like a milkshake, and you can drink it as slow as you want,” He walks back over to you slowly, the packets held out in his hands towards you so you can choose one. “Please? You’re starting to worry me for real now,”

You begrudgingly take one of the packets from his hands with a small sigh. His concern was appreciated, but it was also mildly daunting. You didn’t like the way his face furrowed when he was concerned about you, it didn’t suit him like smiling did.

“Thank you,” He takes the packet back from you once you’ve chosen which one you want, leaving the others discarded on the table as he prepares the drink for you. “Drink this and then go home and get some rest okay? I’ll drop by your apartment after the shift is over to check on you, and if you still feel really bad then we should go to the hospital,” His words are spoken unevenly as the exertion from shaking the drink canister reaches his vocal chords.

“I don’t need to go to the hospital Buck, I’m fine, i’ve just got the flu or something and pushed myself too hard,” You shake your head adamantly at his suggestion, and he mirrors it himself as he pours the drink into a glass and puts it on the table in front of you.

“Some people go to the hospital when they’ve got the flu and don’t push themselves too hard,” He points at the glass once it’s on the table. “Drink it,”

You oblige with a roll of your eyes, your first sip barely even considered one as you try and force yourself to swallow it through the invisible blockade in your throat.

“And maybe try and take a nap or something? You look exhausted,”

“Oh thanks, that makes me feel so much better,” a your voice is dripping with sarcasm, and it leaves a small smile on Buck’s face.

“You know what I mean,” He shakes his head lightly as he stashes away the remaining protein shake packets. “How much sleep did you get last night anyway?”

He asks you the question right as you go to take another sip of the shake, and you force yourself to swallow it uncomfortably to answer him. “Maybe like three hours? I had a really bad migraine and my lower back was hurting,”

Buck sighs loudly as he pulls out a chair to sit behind you, and he opens his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it,”

“I know I know, that’s not good, i’ll work on it okay?”

“That’s all I can ask,” He gives you a small smile with a shrug of his shoulders.

—

You didn’t have to think about complying to Buck’s suggestion of going home, and after a long hour of trying to digest the protein shake in front of you, that’s exactly what you did.

The station felt remarkably quieter without you there, but that was arguably because everyone was still shrouded in a combined worry for your well being that left them more solemn than usual, their usual banter getting lost in the process.

Once the shift was over, Buck kept his word in heading straight to your apartment, knocking the door with no answer.

He questions whether he got the number right at first, but he’s been to your apartment enough times to know that he hasn’t just stumbled to the wrong door. And the longer it stays shut in his face the more worried he gets.

So he tries the door handle, and it opens, meaning you’d left your apartment unlocked.

He calls your name a few times as he walks in, a small rush of adrenaline making its way through his veins at the slight possibility that something could’ve happened in the few hours since you’d been home alone.

A small breath of relief escapes him as he finds you.

You were circled up into yourself on your couch, TV left on standby as you slept in what Buck assumed to be an extremely deep sleep.

How you manage to make that tiny sofa look like the most comfortable place in the world he doesn’t know, but you seem to be more than happy wedged into the corner with a decorative pillow clutched tightly against your chest.

It’s a welcome sight after everything you’d been through today, and Buck rifles around to find a blanket to throw over you before taking a seat on the other end of the couch and settling in for an evening of watching random movies on your TV until you woke up.

Even if that meant him staying overnight.

#9 1 1 #evan buckley #9 1 1 fanfiction #buck x reader #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley angst #evan buckley fluff #oliver stark #asks 🚒

[redocity]

new fic is being written and should be out tomorrow 🫶🫶

#evan buckley x reader #buck x reader #9-1-1 #9-1-1 fanfiction

[redocity]

for some reason my most recent fic isn’t uploading to the tags so i’m gonna put a link here 😭

THE LONG GAME

flirting between friends was always fun, but sometimes it borders something that is definitely not platonic, and once that line is crossed, buck's not sure he wants to go back to what you had before.

#9 1 1 #9 1 1 fanfiction #buck x reader #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader

[redocity]

strugglin with seasonal depression and i’ve been binging 911 bc it’s the one thing keeping me going so seeing ur lil oneshots has been v helpful so thank u pookie 😁🙏

i’m so glad you’re enjoying them 🫶 no kidding, i watched from the end of season two until the end of season 6 in five days because i literally did nothing but binge it for like eight hours a day so i get you man

#9 1 1 #buck x reader #red’s inbox 🚨

[redocity]

Buck as the eternal playboy but folding the second the reader hits on him back? Maybe corner him against a wall for funsies >:)

THE LONG GAME — E.BUCKLEY

flirting between friends was always fun, but sometimes it borders something that is definitely not platonic, and once that line is crossed, buck’s not sure he wants to go back to what you had before.

WARNINGS: 16+ for suggestiveness, alcohol, lots of flirting, chimney being a cockblock rip, buck is so sexually frustrated rip

evan buckley x gn!reader || ???? || 3.1k || requests open!

a/n: not me giggling over my own writing, how sad is that-

₊ ⊹ masterlist!!

Arguably the best part about your job was being able to celebrate a job well done.

That feeling of accomplishment after getting through a really tough call with nothing but a positive outcome.

The team never went half-assed on the celebrations, and you’re sure that the bar you all frequent post-shift knows you all by name by now from how often you all abandon your nights to spend an extra few hours in each other’s company.

That was another thing you loved about your job. The team. Your family.

You could spend 24 straight hours with them and they’d still make an excuse to spend a few more with everyone.

Today was no different. You rolled up to the bar in a tight-circle, eerily resembling the professional attitude you had to display during your work hours, one not yet shed considering it’d only been three-quarters of an hour since your shift ended.

You knew it wouldn’t last long, you’d all be too drunk to care about professionalism soon enough. Well except Bobby anyway.

You barely had time to walk through the front doors before Buck was running up to the bar to order everyone a round of drinks, a confident smirk etched on his face that only grew as the local news recounted the story of one of they day’s earlier calls with civilian footage.

“I wonder who that is,” He nudges your side as you walk over, cockiness washing all over his face as he nods up towards the TV hanging up by the ceiling. “They look pretty badass,”

You give him an almost dismissive hum as you pick up one of the glasses from the cluster to take a sip of the craft beer filling it. “I wonder,”

“Oh come on, you’re all over the news,” He gives you another small nudge. “You’re practically famous right now,”

He leans in towards you to talk over the music, reaching over to grab a pint glass of his own and clinking it animatedly against yours before taking a swig from it.

“He’s right you know,” Hen gives you nudge herself, joined by an enthusiastic thumbs up from Chimney behind her. “Own it,”

“Right? you pulled a whole superhero move,” Buck motions up towards the news broadcast again, where they are still replaying a clip of you kicking through a pane of reinforced glass on a high-rise from on top of the roof as an alternative method of entry to the collapsed stairwell on the inside.

“Sounds like you’re projecting Buckley, jealous?” You raise your eyebrow with an air of amusement as you take another swig from your glass.

“Absolutely not, in fact, I’m the opposite of jealous right now,” He leans in towards you again so that your shoulders brush together. “It was hot,”

“Okay horndog,” You roll your eyes at his comment, pushing away his face with the palm of your hand pressed to his forehead. “Keep it in your pants will you?”

He does nothing but laugh at the way you scold him, allowing you your personal space as he sits up straight once more.

Buck’s ability to flirt his way through any situation was honestly mildly impressive, how he managed to twist any situation into having a sensual undertone no matter what it was.

Last week it was Eddie carrying a sandbag into the station gym. The week before that it was the fact that Hen had cut a slice of lasagna for him instead of him doing it himself.

And apparently this week’s target was you. For jumping off a roof and shattering a glass window with your feet.

You’d question his taste if you didn’t know he was joking.

Although as the night went on and the table became increasingly cluttered with empty glasses, you started to question whether it was actually a joke.

Whether it was some quirk of his personality, or something more serious.

They say that drunk words are sober thoughts right? And Buck was definitely drunk and definitely spouting some choice words right now.

He whistles as you pot one of the striped balls on the pool table, his competitiveness all but disappeared underneath the haze that his alcohol consumption had laid over his brain. “Skilled with your feet and your hands? You’re just about every guy’s dream,”

He leans across the pool table to aim his shot, pool cue horribly aimed to the point where the cue ball barely skims the solid red ball he was aiming for. “Probably every girl’s dream too actually,”

“Instead of trying to kiss my ass, maybe you should focus on actually playing the game,” You genuinely can’t tell by this point whether his poor skills were an effect of the alcohol running through his system or if he was doing it on purpose just to get under your skin.

If there was one thing you did, it was play fair, and that included not letting your opponent give you an easy win.

“Oh how I would love to kiss that ass,” He makes an exaggerated show of leaning backwards to get a clear view, giving you another short whistle as you lean over the table to line up your next shot.

“Win the game and maybe i’ll let you,”

You swear you can see the moment his mind fractures, enunciated by another striped ball falling into one of the pockets and you lining up another shot.

He’s like a robot doing a hard reset, his eyes staring blankly at you like he physically cannot comprehend that you’d actually say something like that.

You don’t make your next shot, though whether by distraction from Buck’s eyes on the side of your face or your own drunken mistake you’re not entirely sure. Either way, when you straighten up to stand again, Buck hasn’t moved an inch.

“Go on, your turn,” You tap the side of his arm with your pool cue, amusement washing over your features as you watch him physically jolt from the contact and shake his head as if to physically shake off what you’d said to him.

Who knew such a casanova would get so flustered when someone played along with his little flirting game.

He ended up losing of course, you were far too much ahead for him to have a chance of catching up before you potted the eight ball and took the game, and you could swear there was a trace of disappointment in his eyes, and not because of the four solid colour balls still left on the table.

He didn’t even glance at them.

No, instead he kept his eyes firmly locked on you as you gloated your win.

“Now that is something to celebrate,” You lay your cue on the table with a victorious smirk. “Better luck next time I suppose,”

Your cockiness continues to flourish as you pot the remaining balls into the pockets and take Buck’s pool cue from him to lay it next to yours. “So what’s my reward then?”

”I- What?” He blinks at you a few times, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as his mind tries to catch up to the conversation.

“Well we laid out what would happen if you won, so what do I get for actually winning?” You tilt your head to the side as you take a step towards him, arms crossed over your chest with your eyebrow raised. “Surely I deserve to be rewarded, no?”

“I can uh…I can buy you a drink…” Buck pursed his lips together, dry swallowing as he leant backwards against the pool table upon your approach. He honestly didn’t know what was coming over him. Why was he so ruffled under the collar about this?

This was his prime domain, so why was it the second that you mirrored his interest he shut down and started backtracking on himself like a highschooler?

“I think we’ve had enough drinks don’t you?” You take another step forward as he sits on the edge of the table, essentially boxing him in despite there being very easy escape points at both his right and his left. “Besides, I want to be sober enough to remember this tomorrow,”

What on earth did you mean by that?

God he felt pathetic right now, a 6’2, 220lbs man being boxed in against a pool table of all things by one of his extremely attractive coworkers because you’d had a sudden streak of confidence and decided to flip his advances back on himself.

“Uh…” He gives a small, half awkward chuckle as his eyes flicker to consciously remain focused on your own eyes and not fall downwards. He knew the uniforms were tight but god did he not notice how tight they were until he was having to physically restrain himself from looking further down. “Right well- uh- what do you want then..?”

Buck watched as your eyes left his to flicker downwards, not so far down that you were staring at his chest, but just far down enough that he could tell you had your attention on a part of his face that was not his eyes.

He’d blame the bright red of his cheeks on the drinks if you asked about it, but you seem far too enamoured by the way he nervously purses and bites his lips under your gaze to even so much as glance at anything else.

“You know what I want..?” You break your staring to meet his eyes again, although you still make the time to turn your eyes down to his mouth again during the breaks between words.

He swears you’re leaning in with every word, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t leaning in himself, a sharp, stuttered breath escaping his lips as you get close enough so your breath fans across his cheeks. “I think so…”

You give a small hum at his answer, lips quirking into a smile as you narrow your gaze and tilt your head slightly to the left so that your noses don’t bump together as you bring your faces within an inch of each other.

His lips part on instinct, breathing a whisper of air into your mouth as he anticipates the contact with closed eyes.

“I want you to stop drinking my orange juice,”

The tension in his shoulders seems to drop at your statement, and his eyes shoot back open as you pull yourself back to stand fully upright, absolute delight drenching your features as you read the waves of shock and dissatisfaction that roll over him at the sudden change in atmosphere. “What?-”

He was so close. So close to having your lips on his. And you ripped it away from him with that stupidly hot smirk on your face like you knew exactly what you were doing.

You definitely knew what you were doing.

“In the station, I know it’s you,” You explain yourself like it’s no big deal, like you weren’t centimetres from giving Buck what he’d been pining for for so goddamn long a few seconds ago. “Buy your own juice,”

“I- Seriously?” Exasperation practically drowns his voice as he speaks, and he narrows his gaze with an air of desperation that makes you want to give him exactly what he wants. “You pretend you’re going to kiss me and then tell me not to drink your goddamn orange juice? Not cool man,”

“Maybe you shoulda won the game, I don’t know what to tell you,” You shrug your shoulders with an air of nonchalance that only you would be able to muster in a situation like this, and it frustrates Buck beyond all belief.

“That’s not fair,” Buck shakes his head as he stands. “I didn’t know you were being serious,”

“Well that’s just too bad isn’t it?” You clasp your hands together with a tilt of your head.

“No, we’re not just gonna move on okay?” It’s Buck’s turn to approach you now, his hands emphasising his words as he waves them in front of himself. “I have waited so long for you to suggest you were interested in me you cannot just back out like nothing happened,”

You swerve his approach with a laugh to walk around the side of the pool table, like his frustration is the funniest thing in the world to you and not literally tearing him apart with every moment you try to brush off the lingering tension between you. “You are way too pent up about this,”

“I am the exact right amount of pent up about this,” He follows you around the table to box you in as you did him, except this time there’s really no escape as he plants his hands firmly against the edge of the table on either side of you. “You can’t just lean in like you’re going to kiss me and bail right at the last second,”

“I thought you liked the long game,” You cross your arms over your chest as a deflection from the way your heart rate quickens, trying to cover the increase in how fast your chest rises and falls under the gaze he’s trapped you in.

“I’ve played long enough,” He leans his weight on his arms, bringing his face towards yours slowly. “I need to know if I’ve won,”

“I’d say so,” Your eyes are much less confident now the roles have been reversed, struggling to maintain contact with his as his face continues its steady path towards your own.

“Prove it.” You’re close enough now that you can feel the breath from every word he speaks on your skin, and his intentions are laid out very clearly as his gaze falls from your eyes to your lips.

He is going to kiss you if you don’t do anything to stop him.

He wants to taste the mix of alcohol on salt on your lips, explore the inside of your mouth with his tongue. He wants to feel the heat of your palms against his cheeks as you cup his face to stop him from pulling away and make you kiss him until neither of you can breathe.

He’s waited long enough to have you like this, and after your previous stunt, he’s not sure he can physically last much longer before he explodes from the frustration.

The way his hands slide from resting on the table either side of you to holding your hips solidifies that point tenfold.

He gives your waist a soft tug until your torso collides with his, and you have to brace your hands against his shoulders to stop yourself from losing your balance and stumbling right into him.

And then he’s leaning in again, his eyes flickering over your expression to look for any trace of hesitance or uncertainty in your features before he makes the final move.

And then there’s a shot glass between your faces.

“Shots?”

Chimney, ever horrible at reading the room —probably because he’s so drunk he can barely stand upright anymore— holds up two shots towards the two of you, one in each hand. “They’re on me~” He adds that extra part at the end as the true selling point, and it takes all of Buck’s self-restraint to not knock the glasses out out Chimney’s hand to make him leave the two of you alone.

You don’t seem so agitated.

“Why thank you,” You break from Buck’s grasp to take one of the shots from Chimney’s hand, raising it in Buck’s direction. “Here’s to playing the long game,”

You down the shot quickly, leaving the empty glass on the edge of the pool table to rejoin the group at the bar, leaving Buck alone and so goddamn sexually frustrated he genuinely thinks he might pass out from the strain.

You know exactly what you’re doing by dragging this out, and he has half the mind to prove your idea of ‘safety’ from his advances in the group wrong by sending his conscience to hell and giving in to his inhibitions in front of everyone.

But he’s not quite drunk enough to push it that far. Even if most of the team wouldn’t remember it if he did.

“So that’s a no on the shot?” Chimney raises the remaining shot glass in Buck’s direction, seemingly completely oblivious to the colossal cockblock he’d just imposed.

“If you weren’t so drunk right now I would punch you I swear-” Buck huffs as he all but snatches the glass from Chimney’s hand and downs the shot in exasperation, the sharp burn in his throat doing nothing to distract him from the ache in his chest from having a possible moment from you ripped from underneath his nose again in the span of less than ten minutes.

“Woah, what did I do?” Chimney furrows his eyebrows in offence at Buck’s statement. “We’re supposed to be family man, last time I buy you anything,” He scoffs in indignation as he leaves Buck to join the rest of the group once more, clearly unhappy with Buck’s reception to his ‘gift’ of a free shot.

A free shot and a missed shot at finally making a move on you.

He knew that come your next shift you’d ignore everything that had happened tonight, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to go back to the silent glances and subtle gestures. He wanted all of you, not just some aimless flirting that never went anywhere.

At least he had confirmation that you were in fact interested in him, that was a step forward in the right direction he supposes.

But god was the long game starting to get on his nerves.

#9 1 1 #9 1 1 fanfiction #buck x reader #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley fluff #oliver stark #asks 🚒 #redocity 🧯

[redocity]

ooo what about buck & reader at maddie and chimney's wedding and buck's trying to coax reader into dancing but they're a lil shy and it's soft and cute and you can decide whether they're already together or not!!

TAKE MY HAND - E.BUCKLEY

buck has an inherent knack for involving you in absolutely everything even if you’re happy to sit on the sidelines, and sometimes you question whether it’s just coming from a place of friendship.

WARNINGS: alcohol, swearing

evan buckley x gn!reader || fluff || 1.7k || requests open!

a/n: now this is what i’m talking about 🤭 thanks for the request ml <33

₊ ⊹ masterlist!!

The porch light you’re sat under serves as both your respite and your downfall.

It’s strong enough to light your phone screen and make your prosecco glitter in a way that makes your tipsy brain extremely satisfied, but it also lights you up like a glowstick as you avoid the terrace turned dance-floor like the plague.

You’re more than content to sit with your sparkly drink and watch as the rest of the team joke and dance under Maddie and Chimney’s lead, their house transformed into the perfect reception party venue with the help of Hen and Buck’s manual labour.

It really was something to celebrate, two people you’d come to consider as family being joint together under an eternal promise of love and sole devotion to each other.

But apparently your form of celebrating wasn’t ‘celebratory’ enough for a certain someone.

“Come on, time to dance,” Buck plucks the flute glass from your palm, replacing it with his left hand instead to pull you to your feet.

“Oh no I’m good-” You shake your head with a small laugh as you tug a resistance against his hand, intent on remaining firmly sat in your chair.

It did not matter how much you’d had to drink, the idea of dancing in front of a group of people, your honorary family or not, made you want to dig yourself an early grave.

“Come on, we’re at a wedding reception, we’ve gotta dance,” Buck had decidedly had at least a few more drinks than you had, although you’re sure you’d be in a similar situation even if he was stone cold sober.

He always made an effort to include absolutely everyone, which mostly meant you.

Actually it always meant you.

It wasn’t like you were being left out or anything, you just didn’t have the outgoing nature of the rest of your team when it came to being out of the fire station, which often left you in your own little bubble off to the sidelines.

It wasn’t like you weren’t content with that either, and that was something that Buck knew.

But he still made an effort to get you directly involved anyway.

Buck’s gotta Buck you suppose.

He gives a soft tug on your hand to try and prompt you to stand again, and you give it another bout of resistance with your lips pressed into an awkward line. “You can go and dance if you want,”

“No no,” Buck takes it upon himself to finish your glass by tipping the whole thing into his mouth, to which to gesture outwards in mild exasperation. “We are going to dance,”

“I am not drunk enough to dance in front of a group of people, and you just downed the possibility of that happening,” You shake your head in feigned disapproval as he puts the glass back down on the table, and he mirrors it himself, completely undeterred.

“We can get you another drink,” He gives your hand another tug, a little harder this time, his usual boisterous behaviour only amplified under the low buzz from his alcohol consumption. “You gotta have fun,”

“I am having fun,” You allow him to pull you to your feet this time, making a show of exaggeratedly sighing as you meet his eyes with your own.

“Not enough fun in my opinion,” Once you’re standing upright, he takes it as an open invitation to pull you onto the makeshift dance-floor, taking both of your hands in his own to ensure that you don’t try to slip away on the way there.

It’s innocent enough, and not exactly revolutionary in the land of Evan Buckley’s casual affection, but under your slightly alcohol-induced haze, the brushing of his fingers against your palms makes a warm feeling shoot up your arms and settle in your chest.

“I don’t even know how to dance-” Your tone comes off as mildly self-deprecating, something that Buck does not take lightly as he wedges the two of you into a small area that hasn’t yet been taken over by your drunken coworkers as they sway and jump around to the pop-rock song playing in the background.

“Dancing is subjective,” The way he furrows his eyebrows suggests that he’s offended at you even suggesting that you’re not good at something like being able to dance, and he tugs and pushes at your arms gently in alternation to put the two of you into a rhythm that matches the beat of the song. “As long as you are having fun, it doesn’t matter what you look like,”

The motion is enough to break a small smile onto your face, a short chuckle escaping your mouth as you entertain his musings by returning the push and pull motion of his arms with your own.

“Plus,” He bends his elbows to bring himself a little closer to you, leaning to speak against your ear over the music. “I think everyone’s too drunk to tell you have sloppy dance moves,”

“Hey-” You open your mouth in feigned astoundment, a sharp laugh joining the gasp that leaves your mouth.

“You’re so stiff,” Buck finds great enjoyment in laughing at your inherent lack of ‘grace’ when it comes to dancing, his hands sliding up your forearms to hold your elbows and try to loosen up your joints by massaging his fingers into your skin. “Relax,”

“You are way too excited,”

“My sister just got married to one of my closest friends, of course I’m excited,” Buck tilts his head to the side slightly, the warm overhead lighting hitting his eyes in a way that makes them look like he’s standing in front of a sunset.

“And you’re also completely shitfaced,” You can’t say much considering the four glasses of prosecco you’d had yourself, but you could just tell that Buck was going to have a hangover tomorrow.

“So?” He tilts his head downwards ever so slightly. “I’m having fun, drinking, eating good food, dancing with my best friend, just— soaking up the good vibes you know?”

You can’t really argue with that.

“Uh huh, right,”

“I am right,” Buck gives you that over-confident smirk, the one that’s become his trademark, and the one that has so much more of an effect on you right now than it ever has before this moment in time*. “All just good vibes*,”

You can hear the song fade out underneath Buck’s rebuttal, with the next song being remarkably more calm although still just as bright as the one before it.

“Here’s what I’m talking about,” Buck gives a nod in satisfaction at the new tune. “Let’s teach you how to dance,”

“What?” The word leaves your mouth more as a laugh than a question, and it’s like Buck ignores you completely as he lays your hands onto his shoulders and slides his down to rest gently against your sides, right over your ribcage.

It truly was remarkable how he was always so gentle despite himself, and it was not helping the way you were already perceiving him tonight.

“Now, dancing is really just swaying if you think about it,” He uses his hands like an example for his conclusion as he guides your movements with them, literally swaying your weight between your feet as he mirrors you in doing the same. “That simple,”

He chuckles like he’s just told you some revolutionary secret. and you honestly can’t be sure whether it’s the alcohol talking or just Buck being himself.

Either way, it’s enough for him to break out into a soft smile, one that washes over his features like waves on the shore and settle into his muscles like water into sand. “See? You’re doing great,”

“I’m not doing anything,”

“Sure you are, you’re letting me push you out of your comfort zone,” He tilts his head forward towards you a little, smile ever present on his face. “That’s something,”

You let out a small breath, lowering your head to rest it against his shoulder momentarily. “Whatever you say,”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” His eyes chase yours for contact once you pull back enough that he can see your whole face again. “You should let me do this more often,”

“How about no?”

“You know you can’t resist me,” Buck chuckles at your denial. “I always get you in the end,”

“I suppose you do,” You let your head tilt to the side as your expression slowly mirrors his in the content smile you have washing over your face. “Maybe I’m just a pushover,”

“Or maybe,” He leans forward a little, halting your swaying for a second so he can put emphasis on his words. “You just like spending time with me like this,”

“That too I guess,”

Buck chuckles at your response, something you reciprocate yourself as you rest your head against the curve of his shoulder once more with a sigh.

He was right. Dancing is fun. Although probably only because he was the one you were dancing with.

Either way, you knew you were going to be leaving this reception party wondering exactly what you meant to Buck, and more importantly, what he meant to you.

But right now, all you needed to focus on was the gentle pressure of his fingertips against your sides and the gratified look in his eyes.

Everything else could wait until tomorrow.

#9 1 1 #9 1 1 fanfiction #buck x reader #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley fluff #oliver stark #asks 🚒

[redocity]

hihi, going through a bit of a stint at the moment, so please send me in your evan buckley requests! 🫶🫶

#9 1 1 #9 1 1 fanfiction #buck x reader #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader

[redocity]

BREAKING 9-1-1 NEWS 🚨

EVAN BUCKLEY IS CANONICALLY BISEXUAL RAAAAAAA

#9 1 1 #evan buckley #evan ‘buck’ buckley

[redocity]

₊ ⊹ E.BUCKLEY — MASTERLIST ⊹ ₊

find the complete masterlist of all of my works for evan buckley below the cut! detailed information about warnings and extra information can be found on each fic individually :)

₊ ⊹ FLUFF

GENUITY

How does buck get you to start taking his offers seriously instead of blowing them off under the idea that he's not being serious?

—

BALL OF SUNSHINE

buck absolutely loved kids. so when your ex-husband throws a wrench in your plans he's more than happy to finally meet the little boy you won't stop talking about.

—

TAKE MY HAND

buck has an inherent knack for involving you in absolutely everything even if you're happy to sit on the sidelines, and sometimes you question whether it's just coming from a place of friendship.

₊ ⊹ HURT/COMFORT

MOVING ON

buck was finally taking the step to move out of abby's apartment, except it's not exactly that easy.

—

PUSH THROUGH

Being sick and being a firefighter were two things that should never exist at the same time. when you push yourself a little too hard and end up collapsing, buck gets more than a little worried.

₊ ⊹ ANGST

COMATOSE

after he'd been hit by lighting, buck had been rendered comatose, and he's just as eager to wake up and see you again as you are for him to be okay.

—

EMERGENCY ROOM

after a completely normal day on the job, you get shot seemingly out of nowhere. buck does not handle it well.

₊ ⊹ ETC.

THE LONG GAME

flirting between friends was always fun, but sometimes it borders something that is definitely not platonic, and once that line is crossed, buck's not sure he wants to go back to what you had before.

#9 1 1 #9 1 1 fanfiction #buck x reader #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley angst #evan buckley fluff #evan buck buckley x reader

[redocity]

Evan Buckley x fiancée reader

Reader and Evan are recently engaged. Reader gets shot by the sniper instead of Eddie, Buck gets covered in her blood and attempts to save her (like the episode) and then just go from there please ❤️‍🩹. Please include lots of angst, sadness and happiness too 🫶

EMERGENCY ROOM - E.BUCKLEY

after a completely normal day on the job, you get shot seemingly out of nowhere. buck does not handle it well.

WARNINGS: spoilers for 04x13 and 04x14, established relationship, major character injury, blood, guns, buck is on the verge of a mental breakdown for most of it

buck x fiancée!reader II flangst Il 4.2k Il requests open!

a/n: i had so much fun writing the little fluffy bits at the beginning and the end i love them your honour

₊ ⊹ masterlist!!

“I know right?” You finally had a few minutes to fawn over your newest accessory now that you’d managed to secure Charlie away from his mother and get him into an ambulance, holding your left arm up in front of you and wiggling your fingers to show off the shiny rock on your ring finger towards Eddie. “Who would’ve thought he was so focused on the details?”

“Hey!” Buck nudges you as he walks past, shaking his head with a smile. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“People like you aren’t exactly known for their ‘detail orientation’ Buck,” Eddie laughs as he walks past him, pushing his head with the palm of his hand. “Good job on defying expectations,”

“Hey I am plenty detail oriented thank you,” gestures outwards exasperatedly, glancing at you for backup for his statement. You give him nothing more than a shrug of your shoulders.

“Shannon was the same when I bought her ring don’t worry,” Eddie pats Buck’s shoulder. “Went on this whole rant about how she never expected me to put so much thought into how it looked, I think it’s just a girl thing,”

“It’s not-” You scoff, putting a hand up in front of him in absolute astoundment. “I am trying to show my appreciation for the thought that went into making this ring fit my preferences, and you are making me feel disrespected,”

You point between the two boys in exaggerated disappointment, turning your face away from the two with a click of your tongue and a shake of your head.

“Oh come on baby seriously?” Evan sighs dramatically, crossing his arms over his chest and letting his head fall back until he’s facing the sky.

“You’ve hitched your wagon to a tank,” Eddie pats Buck’s shoulder once more, and the two share a short laugh.

“I’m gonna ride with Charlie to the hospital, you two good to get back to the station and tell Bobby?” Buck nods towards Eddie, giving him a small nudge towards the ambulance. “Yeah go ahead, we got it from here,”

“Thanks,” He returns Buck’s nod and then sends a finger salute in your direction. “See you later Mrs. Buckley, try not to kill him before the wedding,”

You laugh shortly at Eddie’s jest, shaking your head. “See you Eddie, give us a call if anything happens,”

“Will do!” He shoots the two of you a wave as he jogs towards the ambulance, climbing inside before the doors get shut behind him.

“Mrs Buckley,” Buck takes a few steps forward to grasp gently at your hips and pull you close to his chest, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I could get used to the sound of that,”

You give a soft hum as his lips press to your temple, turning your face upwards to kiss him properly. “I’d hope so,”

You pull out of his grasp with a soft laugh, pressing the keys to the paramedic car against Buck’s chest for him to take before actually beginning to walk towards the vehicle.

“We’ll have to get you a new turnout jacket too,” Buck follows behind you with a smile etched onto his face, eyes scanning over the last name printed on the back of your jacket. One you wouldn’t have for much longer.

“It’d be pretty confusing to have two Buckleys in the same station, the jacket might have to stay,” You turn around to face him once more with a smile of your own, arms crossed across your chest. “We’ll know the truth though,”

You shoot Buck a wink and he laughs, stopping a few feet in front of you and mirroring the way your arms are crossed with his own. “Are you saying that I can’t show off the fact that you’ll have my last name to every single stranger we meet on the job? Because I don’t know if that’s gonna fly with me,”

“I’m sure you’ll find an excuse to let them know, you’ve got a talent-” Your retort is halted by a sharp sound, then a searing pain in your right shoulder, and then you can feel yourself tumble to the floor as your legs give out underneath you under no will of your own.

Buck flinches as you do, a mix of shock from the noise and an instinctual reaction to the splatter that covers side of his face and stripes of his button down shirt.

Then it feels like the world just stops. Buck stands there with wide eyes as he watches you hit the pavement, in an awake state of sleep paralysis as a pool of blood begins to seep onto the pavement and stain the tarmac red underneath you.

He wanted to shout, to run, to move, Anything.

But he couldn’t so much as curl his hands into fists as he stood stationary in shock, eyes wide and locked onto where you’d crumpled into yourself on the concrete.

It took one of the other firefighters on the scene physically tackling him down to the ground for him to move, and even then his eyes never left yours, just barely open as you slip in an out of consciousness.

“Get down!” Mehta yelled across the group of vehicles as he pulled Buck behind one of the trucks, covering him with his own body as he tried to radio for help. “Shots fired. Shots fired a firefighter is down. I repeat, a firefighter is down!”

Buck can feel himself hyperventilate, his hearing going quiet until the sounds of the civilians nearby are drowned out and replaced with his own racing heartbeat. He watches as your hand crawls forward along the pavement in his direction as if silently trying to confirm to him that you were okay, but the far away look in your eyes wasn’t reassuring him at all.

Then your eyelids fluttered and you weren’t looking at him anymore, your hand left still in front of you with the stones on your finger glinting in the sunlight like a sick taunt of Buck’s anguish.

Shots continued to rain over the fire engines, and as Mehta moved from Buck to radio dispatch again he mustered all of the strength he physically could under the rush of adrenaline in his system to make a break for where you were laying, crawling underneath the bed of the truck as cover as he watched you roll from your side onto your back. “Come on baby! I’m coming I got you!”

You groan through the pain as you roll over, still conscious despite the agony raging through your shoulder and down the rest of your arm as you squint your eyes from the harsh sunlight.

Buck gets as far out as he can without exposing himself to the raining shots, grasping at your wrist as soon as he’s close enough and tugging until you’re dragged under the engine and onto the other side protected by the metal of the truck.

The friction sends another sharp wave of pain through your body, a sharp yell leaving your throat as you’re dragged across the concrete.

“Get her in the cabin! Quickly!” Mehta and a few other firefighters from station 133 rush to open and prep the back of the truck to cover you inside, and Buck pulls you into a fireman’s hold over his shoulder as quickly — and carefully — as he can to secure you safely.

Another shot is fired in the group’s direction as you’re pulled out of Buck’s hold and onto the seats, shattering the glass of the window and only further hastening the efforts of the firefighters as everyone clambers into the truck to rush away from the scene, leaving the paramedics car you’d driven over in erupted in flames on the side of the road.

“Okay, we got you, we got you you’re okay,” Buck lays you down across the back of the truck with help from one of the paradmedic’s from station 133 with panic written all over his face, continuing to speak reassurances to you in haste, mostly trying to reassure himself that you would be alright.

He rips open the top of your uniform shirt, paying no mind to the buttons that are pulled from their stitching in his haste to cover your gunshot wound in gauze and stop it from bleeding out. “We got you baby you’re okay, just- just stay with me okay?”

Your vision is blurry as you blink up at him, and you can vaguely hear Mehta calling for a trauma unit on standby as you attempt to lift your head slightly to clear your vision of Buck’s face. “…Are you hurt? There’s a lot of blood..”

Buck follows your eyes as they trail down the stains covering the front of his torso, and he shakes his head quickly as he brushes a stray strand of hair from your face. “No no no, I’m good baby, you just hang on for me okay?”

The hand that’s not stopping your wound from bleeding all over the place moves to cup the side of your face, thumb brushing over your cheek softly, a stark contrast to the way he practically barks at the driver of the truck to hurry up.

You barely manage to lift up your arm to cover his hand with your own over your cheek, shaking your head slightly under his palm. “You shouldn’t shout at people…”

“I know baby I’m sorry-” He takes a sharp breath in as he turns his attention back to focusing on you and not on the fact he felt like this drive was taking forever.

The paramedic in the back helps to stabilise your head as you start to slip out of consciousness again, and buck rubs his thumb over your cheekbone to get you to keep your eyes on his. “Hey, three minutes away, you’re so close, I just need you to hang-”

It wasn’t working very well.

The paramedic preps and secures an oxygen mask over your mouth as your eyes start to flutter closed.

“I just need you to hang on…please…”

This wasn’t what was supposed to happen.

He’d just asked you to marry him, you were supposed to be spending the evening celebrating.

You were supposed to get married and have children and grow old together.

Not get shot and bleed out in the back of a fire truck.

Buck jumps out of the vehicle the minute it stops in the hospital, practically screaming for the doctors to come and get you out.

“Through and through, upper torso,” Mehta explains your injury with just as much panic as Buck, although remains decidedly more collected as he barrels out of the front to watch you get pulled onto a gurney. “Large caliber-”

“We’ve got transfusion ready-” One of the nurses gives Mehta a nod before stopping as she takes in the last part of the explanation. “Did you say large caliber?”

“It was a sniper-”

“Pulse is weak! Trauma bay 2, quickly!” The medical team rush with you on the gurney towards the entrance of the hospital’s emergency unit with Buck watching on like everything was happening in slow motion. “Let’s set up for a thoracotomy-”

“Buckley, are you okay?” Mehta looks over at Buck with concern written all over his face as he examines the stains of your blood covering his face, torso, and hands, and Buck waves him off with nothing but a dismissive nod as an answer as his eyes remain locked on the door you disappear into, the the 133 firefighters, Mehta included, following after you inside.

He was not okay.

—

“Hey,” Eddie approached Buck carefully, but he still jumped at his voice anyhow. Eddie gave a short sigh through furrowed eyebrows, face contorting in concern. “She’s gonna be okay man, she’s strong, you know that don’t you?”

Eddie placed his hand slowly on Buck’s shoulder, immediately able to feel the trembling in his hands that traveled up his arms and into his back. “She was standing right in front of me I-”

“Hey.” Eddie swerved Buck to look at him, shaking his head. “This was not your fault. Nobody knows what happened. When’s going to be alright, you’ve just gotta put faith in her,”

Buck took a series of short, staggered breaths through his nose with a small nod, clasping his hands together to keep them from shaking. “I need to change- And have a shower-”

“You need to take a second to breathe,”

“You don’t get it I-” Buck exhales heavily, his eyes flickering as he turns to face Eddie. “I can still feel it under my fingernails and no matter how many times I wash my hands it won’t go away-”

“Okay slow down for a second,” Eddie raises his hand up to stop Buck from falling into a spiral. “You can’t go home alone like this, you’re not okay,”

“I don’t know what to do-”

“Alright, you’re coming back with me, come on,” Eddie pats Buck’s shoulder, guiding him through the parking lot towards his car.

—

A sniper who was specifically targeting firefighters, who would’ve thought.

Being sent back out into the field wearing bullet proof vests and swat protection didn’t feel any more secure than proceeding unprotected Buck thinks. If they were going to get shot with a bullet proof vest on then the sniper would just aim for somewhere not covered by the vest.

And it only proved to remind him that you didn’t have the protection you needed when you were shot. Why should he be surrounded by swat agents and covered in kevlar when you weren’t afforded the same luxury.

You ‘took one for the team’ as people would say. But you shouldn’t have had to. Why you?

It was such a selfish thought, but he would’ve rathered any other firefighter on the scene get shot as long as it wasn’t you. He’d’ve rathered get shot himself than it being you.

But apparently the universe was conspiring against him, making him watch and suffer from the sidelines as everything he cared about got ruined one by one.

Maybe that was why he was so reckless. Maybe that was why he climbed the crane with zero protection when he knew he could’ve been shot at from any of the windows of the surrounding skyscrapers and loose his own life whilst still debating how he would live if you lost yours.

He could see the look Bobby gave him as he was lowered down to the ground again, preparing himself for another scolding about him being ‘reckless’ once they got back to the station.

But it never came.

In fact, Bobby didn’t speak to him at all.

“Are you gonna say anything to me?”

Bobby puts down the chopping knife with a sigh, turning around to see Buck leant against the kitchenette sink. “I don’t know Buck, what would you like me to say?”

“Uh… I mean- I mean usually it’s- ‘what were you thinking?’ or ‘that was reckless’ or my… personal favourite ‘you could’ve been killed’.”

“It doesn’t seem like I need to have that conversation, you know it by heart already.” Bobby gestures exasperatedly before picking the knife back up to continue chopping the onion on the table in front of him. “And still, you went full Buck.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing-” Buck approaches Bobby slowly, arms braced over his stomach in a self-soothing fashion.

Bobby sighs once more as Buck doesn’t drop the conversation, giving up his chopping to put his full attention on Buck. “You’ll never be the guy who thinks before he acts. And i’ve learned to come to terms with that,”

”In part because I realised I don’t have a choice, you’re never gonna change,” Bobby gestures outwards with his hands before clasping them together. “But also because… I know no matter what actions you take, no matter how dangerous or impulsive they may be, they come from your heart because you care.”

“Wow, uh, thank you,” Buck gives a soft chuckle as he claps his fist into his hand, clearly happy that he wasn’t getting a scolding this time around.

“Today was not that.” Bobby paused for a second before continuing. “You didn’t get caught up in some moment and rush in where angels fear to tread, you made a deliberate choice to make yourself a target.”

“Yeah.” Buck shrugs his shoulders exasperatedly. “I made myself a target because I wasn’t gonna let any of you guys take that risk because I cannot handle anyone else getting hurt right now.”

“And what about her? How do you think she would feel if she wakes up in the hospital to find out you got yourself killed because you weren’t being careful?”

Buck didn’t really have an answer to that question.

“You have responsibilities Buck. You have a responsibility to this team, you have a responsibility to your fiancée, and most importantly you have a responsibility to yourself.” Bobby shakes his head disappointedly, crossing his arms over his chest. “You cannot keep putting yourself in reckless situations Buckley because there are people around you that need you alive.”

Buck exhales heavily, biting the inside of his cheek. “Look I couldn’t protect her from getting shot, but today? I had an opportunity to protect the rest of you. So I did.”

Bobby sighs as he turns back to the half diced onion, finishing chopping it slowly. “We are a team, and we’re supposed to protect each other.”

There’s a small moment of silence before Bobby turns to look at Buck for a final time, a stern expression on his face, although lingering traces of gracefulness simmer into the wrinkles by his eyes. “Don’t do it again.”

—

The doctors said the surgery went well. It was probably one of the most relieving moments of his life.

He didn’t have time to visit you immediately though, the team had to go on a call out first.

And of course, because nothing was ever easy, the man who’d called 911 from the fire was also the sniper who was targeting firefighters.

Bobby ended up with a pistol shot to his abdomen, and after helping Athena get into the building dressed in firefighter gear to subdue the sniper the team headed straight to the hospital, now with two team members induced for bullet wounds instead of just one.

Bobby’s was much less severe than yours, but he was still put in for surgery, and Buck decided that it was a good time to visit you down the hall in the recovery unit.

You were still unconscious when he arrived, and it physically pained him to see you hooked up to so many machines as he took a seat at your bedside.

“Hey baby…” He took your limp hand in his own, fingers brushing over your knuckles and the ring still resting on your finger. “The doctors said that your surgery went well… So you should wake up soon…”

He lets out a small stunted exhale as he lifts your hand up to his mouth to press a kiss to your fingers. “I was so worried about you… God you scared me half to death-”

He continues to fiddle aimlessly with your fingers as he recounts the events of what happened to your sleeping self, how he risked his life, how Athena ran into a burning building to find Bobby and how he’d been bothering Eddie and Christopher for the last few days so he wouldn’t have to be on his own.

He told you how he’d moved the reservation of your engagement dinner so you wouldn’t have to miss it, laughing softly to himself at how excited you were to go to that specific resturaunt and try everything they had to offer.

He stayed after regular visitor hours were over, using his position as your fiancé to stay just a little while longer as a priority visitor, not wanting to miss the moment you woke up.

He ended up missing it anyway.

You woke up slowly, eyes fluttering open to the florescent lighting and the rhythmic beeping of the heart rate monitor.

The most prominent thing though, was an added weight on your left thigh, right near your stomach.

A mop of sandy blond hair is what meets your sight first, then your follow it down to his broad shoulders and his back, awkwardly bent forward in his chair to lay his weight on top of you. Then you noticed your hands caged together, his fingers intertwined with yours and held close to his chest.

The sight makes your heart melt a little, and you smile softly as you achily pull your right hand over to thread your fingers through his hair.

He stirs almost immediately, and you can feel his eyelashes brush against your thigh through the thin hospital bedsheets as he pushes himself upwards slowly until he’s supporting his own weight again.

“Hi baby…”

Buck lets out a short breath as your voice meets his ears, features flooded with relief. “Hi…”

You mirror the smile that breaks onto his face with your own, expression still laced with fatigue but also filled with your absolute love for him. He’d really stayed with you in the hospital for so long he’d fallen asleep.

“How’re you feeling?” Buck’s gaze flickers from your face to your bandaged right arm, and you give him a small shake of your head to dismiss his worries.

“I’m okay, takes more than puny bullet to put me out of commission,” You give him a soft wink and he gives you a little chuckles in return.

“You’re one tough lady…” he leans forward towards you until your foreheads brush against each other and your noses bump together. “I’m glad you’re okay…”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” You laugh softly, shaking your head against his and causing your noses to brush back and forth. “You put a ring on it remember?”

You pull back enough to flash your hand at him and show of your ring like he wasn’t the one who bought it for you.

He pulls your hand down into his lap without a care in the world for looking at the gemstone on your finger, his eyes not wavering from yours for even a second as he cups your face for a kiss, one filled with all the love and pain and anxiety and relief that he’d felt over the last few days.

“I love you so much-”

His lips leave you almost breathless, and you give his hand a soft squeeze. “I love you too Evan,”

He pulls you in for another kiss almost before you can even finish your sentence, and you laugh softly against his lips at the fervour. as you return his enthusiasm.

He shifts his hand down from your face closer to your neck as the kiss continues, and you groan against his mouth as it brushes a little too close to the brushing around your shoulder, pulling away with a hiss of pain.

“Ow ow ow-”

“Oh I’m so sorry-” Buck brings both his hands up away from you like he’s not exactly sure what to do with them, eyes wide in imminent panic of hurting you further.

The expression on his face sends you into a small for of giggles, and it’s enough to ease his panic back into calmness as you prove that he hadn’t actually hurt you.

“You always were a little rough with your hands,” You tilt your head against the pillow with an amused expression on your face, and it’s enough for him to crack a smile himself as you reach up your hand to pull his head back down towards yours.

Your lips connect more with his teeth than his own lips as you kiss him through his smile, and he laughs softly into your mouth at your statement. “You’ve never complained,”

“I never will complain,” You shake your head against his softly with a laugh of your own, one that’s cut off by his lips on yours once more.

All’s well that ends well he supposes.

#9 1 1 #9 1 1 fanfiction #buck x reader #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #asks 🚒 #evan buckley angst

[redocity]

Can you do one based on work song by hozier.

Like the episode after he is struck by lightning, and he would do anything to get back to her (the reader) 😭

COMATOSE - E.BUCKLEY

after he’d been hit by lighting, buck had been rendered comatose, and he’s just as eager to wake up and see you again as you are for him to be okay.

WARNINGS: massive spoilers for 06X11, happy ending, established relationship

evan buckley x fem!reader II angst Il 4.6k Il requests open!

a/n: eddie doesn’t deserve to be separated from christopher in any universe so i wrote them back in-

₊ ⊹ masterlist!!

First it was Daniel.

Then he found out Maddie was still with Doug and hadn’t even met Chimney.

Then it was finding out that Bobby had died.

You were his last shot.

God how he wanted to see you right now. He felt like his whole world had been flipped upside-down, and it had in a way. He was sure of his theory, that this was some alternate reality induced by the lightning strike. That he had to be in a coma. That was the only reasonable explanation for all of this.

The first course of action was to ask Chimney and Hen about you. He had no direct impact in you joining the 118, so you had to still be there right? Your job was your life, and even in a place like this that shouldn’t have changed. You were independently driven, and he just hoped that meant that you weren’t different.

“Oh right,” Hen snapped her fingers at Buck’s description of you. “She went into early retirement to look after the kids,”

“Sad to see her go honestly, she was great,” Chimney nodded along to Hen’s assessment, crossing his arms. “I miss her cooking sometimes,”

“You say that like she’s dead,” Hen rolled her eyes, hitting Chimney’s bicep with the back of her hand. “We see her all the time,”

“Yeah but that’s not the same as coming off a call and having the mastery that is her lasagna waiting in the oven for me to devour the minute we sit down,” Chimney sighs at the thought, his shoulders dropping as he imagines it. “Now we get it maybe once a month if we’re lucky,”

“Wait stop-” Buck holds his hand up to stop the two’s conversation, pushing himself from the dining chair he was sat in at Chimney’s table to stand with a furrowed expression. “Kids?”

You weren’t just not in the 118, you had kids here? Kids plural. Not even just one.

“Yeah,” Hen gives him a short nod with a raised eyebrow, like Buck’s confusion was the weird thing and not you having multiple kids with somebody who wasn’t him. “Chistopher and Nicolas,”

“Well, if we’re being semantic here, Christopher isn’t technically her kid,” Chimney gestures outward with his hands as he corrects Hen’s explanation.

“Oh please she may as well be,” Hen rolls her eyes with a scoff. “He calls her mom doesn’t he?”

“Still, biologically-”

”Guys.” Buck stops the two again, holding up both of his hands this time. “Christopher like Eddie’s Christopher?” There was absolutely no way.

“Yeah,” Chimney nods enthusiastically like Buck had just suggested a good answer for a general knowledge quiz. “They’re not married wherever you come from?”

“They’re married?” Buck swears he’s going to die all over again.

“I’ll take that as a no-”

Buck sat back down on the pulled out chair with his elbows on the table and his head in his hands.

You got married and had a child with his best friend?

This definitely wasn’t where he was supposed to be. Not where you were supposed to be.

You were supposed to be his, he was supposed to be yours. God you’d been through so much together, you’d pledged yourselves to each other. He had a ring waiting for you in his apartment.

You weren’t supposed to be married to anyone else. It was just wrong.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Hey,” There’s a gentle hand placed on your shoulder, and you reluctantly tear your eyes away from where Buck is lying towards the origin of the voice.

“You should take a break, you need to eat something and stretch your legs,” Eddie squeezes your shoulder gently as he stands behind you, looking over the top of your head towards the ECMO machine keeping Buck’s breathing regulated. “It’s not good for you to sit here for so long,”

”You know I can’t leave him Eddie,” You sigh softly, dragging your hands over your face to try and rub the fatigue away from your features.

“Please,” He shakes your shoulders gently under his grasp. “You know he wouldn’t want to see you like this, you need to take care of yourself too,”

“I know that…”

“But you’re not going to leave anyway?”

”I just-” You exhale heavily, stretching your back from being hunched over to rest it against the back of the plastic chair you’re sitting in. “What if something happens while I’m not here?”

“Hey,” He tugs on the chair until you’re half-facing him. “If anything happens, I will call you. I promise. Please take a few hours to look after yourself, i’ll watch over him for now,”

You glance back towards Buck’s unmoving body, with a stuttered breath, slowly standing yourself up from your chair with Eddie’s hand behind your back to make sure you don’t stumble with how long you’d been sat there.

“He’ll be okay,” You look up at Eddie with glassy eyes as he tries to reassure you. “He’s a stubborn bastard, he’s not going anywhere,”

“I hope you’re right,”

“When have I ever been wrong?” He tilts his head slightly with a small smile, a lace of joking in his tone in his effort to lighten your mood a little.

It works to an extent, a small breathy laugh leaving your mouth, joined by a small shake of your head as you pull him into a short hug.

“Go and get some food, and then some rest alright?” He pulls away from the hug after a few seconds with his hands braced on your shoulders.

“Yes sir,”

Eddie laughs shortly at your sarcasm, watching you leave the room with a reassuring smile before he takes your place in the chair to watch over Buck until your inevitable return.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“So what are we doing here exactly?” Chimney calls out to Buck as he power walks into the waiting room of the hospital, just barely able to match pace with Hen as the two follow after him.

“I’m not sure,” Buck stops abruptly once he’s inside, looking around. “I think maybe I’m supposed to come back to where it all started,”

“I guess that makes sense in the rules of this- Alternate universe,” Chimney gestures with his hands, following Buck’s turning head in gazing around the sterile white environment.

“I-I have this weird feeling, like I’m running out of time-” Buck turns to face the two with a furrowed expression and a hand pressed against his chest.

“Ooh, a ticking clock,” Chimney snaps his fingers in amusement, turning his head towards Hen who gives him a dissatisfied look. “Plot twist,”

Hen shakes her head with a roll of her eyes at Chimney, turning her attention back towards Buck. “You were having trouble breathing before right?”

“Yeah?”

“What if that wasn’t a panic attack?” She shakes her head again, but this time not in disapproval, instead in concern. “You guys are talking about this place as an alternate reality, but it’s not,” She gestures between Buck and the two of them.

“If you’re in a coma then this is all in your head, meaning that this place is still connected to that body.” She continues her theory with fervour, and Buck is increasingly grateful that at least she hasn’t changed at all. “If it can’t breathe, you can’t breathe,”

“So he feels like he’s running out of time-” Chimney’s cut off halfway through his sentence.

“Because my body is…”

Buck drags his hand down his face at the revelation. He was really at risk of dying here if he didn’t figure out how to get back quickly enough. He wanted to get back. He needed to get back. Desperately.

“Oh hey!”

Buck would recognise that voice anywhere. And it was both the most and least thing he wanted to hear right now.

“Chim, Hen, I didn’t know you guys knew Mr. Buckley,” Buck turns almost begrudgingly in the direction of your voice, a flicker of hope in his eyes as he meets your face. A flicker that immediately disappears as his eyes turn to the child in your arms.

He can’t be any older than five, and he looks just like you, except for his nose and his eyes. They matched Eddie’s features perfectly. And it felt like they were ripping his heart in two.

“Yeah uh…” The two look between each other as they question whether to divulge Buck’s predicament to you. “New acquaintances,”

“Mister Buck!” The child in your arms waves enthusiastically in Buck’s direction, a perfect mimicry of your smile on his features. He figures this must be Nicolas.

Mister Buck. That’s right, he was a teacher in this weird purgatory. He taught your’s and Eddie’s child. Like his life couldn’t get any worse.

“Hey little man,” His greeting was more than a little stunted, his attempt at masking his features clearly failing under the way concern blooms across your face. He always hated when you looked at him like that.

“Are you alright? I know you just got out of the hospital recently and you’re looking a little pale, maybe you should sit down,” You place Nicolas on the floor to guide Buck over to one of the chairs to sit down, and your touch against his arm feels both familiar and foreign at the same time.

“I’m fine, I’ll be fine,” He waves you off gently with a raise of his hand before bracing his arms on his knees.

“What are you doing here, everything okay?” Hen mirrors your concern towards Buck back onto you.

“Oh, yeah, everything’s fine,” You give her a short nod as you straighten up from where you were bending to held Buck sit down, taking Nicholas’ hand in yours as he tugs on the hem of your shirt. “Just a routine check for Christopher, Eddie’s in with him at the moment,”

“Okay good, can’t have our favourite squad in duress,” Hen nods, happy with your response as she ruffles Nicolas’ hair, earning a chuckle from the boy and only sending Buck deeper into his pit of misery.

He was angry at a child, how pathetic was that.

“Speak of the devil,” Chimney nods his head down one of the hallways, and the group of you all turn your heads in the same direction.

“Daddy!” Nicholas is off immediately, running in the direction of Eddie and Christopher the second he sees them round the corner, and Eddie scoops the boy into his arms with no effort whatsoever.

He always was suited to be a dad. And that arguably made it worse for Buck to watch.

“Everything’s good?” You walk over to the three boys with your head tilted, gaze flickering between Eddie and Christopher at his side.

“All good Mi Amor, he’s perfectly fine,” Eddie presses a kiss to your temple, his free arm sliding around your waist to hold you securely against his side.

And that’s when Buck decides that he’s had enough.

He physically cannot stand to watch you with Eddie like that.

He has to get out of there.

And so he does, standing up abruptly and practically running down one of the corridors, leaving all of you to watch on after him in a mix of shock and confusion.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

When you return to Buck’s hospital room, Eddie has been replaced by Bobby. You can’t really be mad at that, Eddie has Christopher to worry about, and you know that he’s probably having just as hard of a time with Buck’s situation as you are. You can’t even begin to imagine how difficult it is for Eddie to explain the situation to him. How Buck might not wake up.

You didn’t want to think about that right now.

“Hey…” Bobby turns his head up from his rosary beads as you practically whisper out your greeting, pulling a chair over so that you can sit next to him at the foot of Buck’s hospital bed.

He looks just as wrecked as you do.

“Hey,” His hands fall into his lap, thumbs still rolling over the wooden beads as he looks over your state. “How are you holding up?”

“Not great…” You start tearing up almost immediately, hands cupping your nose and your mouth and you lean forward with your elbows on your knees.

Empathy floods Bobby’s expression as he reaches over to rub a hand up and down your back with a soft sigh, watching as silent tears roll over the back of your hands to leave dark dapple marks on your jeans.

“I’m so scared…”

“I know kid,” Bobby pulls you securely against his side with his hand rubbing lines over your arm in a futile attempt to console you, his eyes locked on Buck’s unconscious features. “I’m scared too,”

“What if he never wakes up?” You lean your head against Bobby’s shoulder with a stuttered exhale.

“He’s strong, I have faith in him,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Oh hey kid, fancy meeting you here,” Bobby peeks out from behind a stacked shelf of medical supplies, his tone much lighter and less serious than Buck is used to when working with him.

“Thought you were dead,”Taking a moment to catch him breath, Buck steps further into the room slowly, his tone almost accusatory as his eyes narrow, beginning to tire of running around this fictional copy of his own life. “What are you doing here?”

“You tell me, it’s your dream, I’m just living in it,” Bobby shrugs nonchalantly, rifling through some of the bottles one one of the shelves. “Living my best afterlife,”

“Uh-huh, so I am dead,”

“Close but not quite,” Bobby suddenly changes position to come from behind Buck where he was previously stood in front of him. Because apparently that’s something he can do in this version of the world.

“Hey what do you think these do?” Bobby rattles a white tube container with a hum, tipping an unnumbered amount of pills into his mouth.

“This place is way too messed up to be heaven but uh, I don’t really believe in hell,” Buck exhales with furrowed eyebrows as he tries to comprehend everything. He feels like from the moment he woke up in this place he’s been in a constant haze of confusion, and no matter how much he tries to make sense of it, he can never fully grasp what’s happening.

“I- I’m in purgatory,” He exhales sharply as he accepts his own conclusion, laughing at himself ina derogatory fashion at his apparent stupidness. “I never really understood the concept of this, is th- is this a waiting room? Do I just have to hang here until my number is called or is it like, a-a punishment, a time out— do I have to do some type of penance before I’m allowed to move on?”

“Listen kid,” Bobby pulls an orange-brown translucent bottle from his pocket. “You need to relax,” He takes a large swig from the bottle, almost animatedly. “None of this is real,”

Buck’s features visibly soften at Bobby’s word, and he lets out a short laugh. “Ah, that’s the good news,”

Bobby turns towards a large white cabinet behind him, pulling the two doors open with both hands to reveal a large medicine cabinet. “The bad news is that it can be real enough to keep you here if you let it.”

“Uh, wh-what do you mean?”

Bobby pushes the clear bottles of pills on the middle shelf to the side to reveal a large glass window behind them, gesturing towards it with his head. “Hey look, you’re alive,”

Buck furrows his eyebrows as he cautiously approaches the window, features only furrowing further as they lock onto the image of the two of you in the darkened hospital room.

“And there’s me. Ooh I busted out the rosary beads, must be serious,” The image of Bobby shows him bent forward in his chair with his hands on his knees and his rosary in his hands, muttering soft prayers under his breath as he holds the beads up to his mouth.

“And a pretty lady, your girlfriend? She doesn’t look so good,” That was an understatement. From what Buck could see of the side of your face it looked like you were crying, the tear stains on your cheeks illuminated under the florescent lighting and making his heart wrench at the sight, wanting nothing more to pull you into his arms and kiss all of those tears away.

Then he noticed himself, lying perfectly still on a hospital bed hooked up to so many different machines he wasn’t even sure if he could name them all. “How- am I there and here?”

“Well, Evan Buckley, this is your deep dark subconscious,” Bobby leans over slightly towards Buck, tone slightly ominous.

Then the sound of a door turns both of them back towards the window as they watch Athena walk into the room and place careful hands on both yours and Bobby’s shoulders. “Oh hey, can we back up for a second? Are you telling me that’s my wife?” He exhales through his nose with a nod of satisfaction. “I mean, some things did work out for me didn’t they?”

“Do you know what’s happening to me in there?” Buck’s eyes lock on to what he can see of himself through furrowed eyebrows.

“Depends on how you look at it,” Bobby’s eyes follow his own, and he shrugs nonchalantly. “You could be dying, you could be fighting for your life. It’s kind of up to you,”

Bobby leans over towards Buck once again as he continues to stare at himself. “Which way you leaning?”

“I- don’t know,” Buck blinks softly, seemingly going over the pros and cons in his head. “This felt pretty great at first but… Then the Doug thing happened, then you, and then…” His eyes flicker towards where your sat once more, a soft sigh leaving his mouth.

“Well, I don’t think you can bring me back from the dead even in here, but…” Bobby crosses his arms loosely over his chest. “I think you can fix the Doug thing, maybe even the Eddie thing,”

“Wo- Would that actually work?”

“I don’t know, I’m not exactly bound by the laws of physics and logic here,” Bobby shrugs again and leans forward slightly. “I know what you know,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Athena walks over to Buck’s hospital bed with a sigh, gently laying her hand on Buck’s wrist to rub small circles against his skin. “I don’t know if you can hear me Evan Buckley, but I do know that you never give up. So don’t start now.” She shakes her head with an exasperated exhale, her tone still authoritative despite her obvious emotion towards the situation.

“Bobby has lost… two children. He cannot survive losing you.” She sighs softly, squeezing his wrist just a little. “And your girlfriend, oh the poor girl… She’s distraught over you. You can’t propose to her if you’re like this. So wake up damn it.” She raises her voice ever so slightly at the end of her sentence out of frustration. Mostly at herself, that she cant do anything to help get him out of the situation he’s in.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Wake up.”

“Yeah I’m trying.” Buck gestures exasperatedly with his hands as he walks back towards the hospital waiting room with Bobby following after him. “Just need to figure out what to fix to get back.”

“Maybe you should just give up.” Buck glances over his shoulder at Bobby’s ‘suggestion’, his harsh words contrasting his jovial tone. “Did you know that you were clinically dead for three minutes? Things aren’t looking good for you,”

“How come you’re such a jerk in this reality?” Buck’s tone shift to border frustration as he continues to walk with Bobby following after him.

“Because I am loosing patience.” Buck turns around with a furrowed expression, and the two stop in the middle of the corridor, locked in a stalemate.

“When are you gonna learn?” Bobby crosses his arms over his chest. “Brother’s die, children and their wives die, sisters get beat up by their husbands, girlfriends move on and find someone better, you can’t fix everything.”

“Well I fixed you.” Buck borders on shouting in anger at Bobby’s words.

“Oh really? How?” Bobby stares at him blankly as he anticipates an answer.

Buck takes a few seconds to respond, his eyes narrowing once he’s found his answer. “’Cause I joined the 118… And I mad you mad. And I made you cry. And I made you laugh sometimes, you know?” He exhales sharply, gesturing between himself and Bobby.

“I drove you crazy, but I think you spent so much time trying to make sure that I didn’t get myself killed, that it made you remember what it is to live.”

“So basically,” Bobby meets Buck’s gaze with his own. “You were Buck,”

“Yeah,” Buck seems to relax a little once he’d got everything off his chest, features softening. “I was Buck,”

“And that’s enough?”

Buck turns his gaze down to the ground as he takes a few seconds to think about it, a small breath of a laugh leaving his mouth as he makes his decision. “I think it is,”

“Looks like someone just figured out the answers for himself,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

A small group of you stand in Buck’s hospital room as they prepare to disconnect Buck from the ventilator. The priority visitors. His parents stood side by side, wrapped up in each other for mutual comfort, Maddie was hugging herself as an act of self-comfort, and Bobby was stood with his hand on your shoulder trying to comfort you.

The nurse carefully removes the ECMO covering Buck’s mouth and steps back towards the foot of his hospital bed. “And now we wait, see if he takes a spontaneous breath on his own,”

There’s about thirty seconds of silence before the regular beeping of Buck’s heart monitor changes to a jarring sharp sound, and Maddie turns towards the nurse with an anxious expression. “What’s wrong?”

“His oxygen is dropping,” The nurse’s tone is not at all reassuring. “If he doesn’t take a breath in the next few seconds we’re gonna have to reconnect him to the ventilator,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Right uh, this, this is all happening inside my head, which means I’ve been talking to myself this whole time,” Buck takes a sharp breath in as he looks over the perfect mirror of himself in front of him, who gives him a hum with a condescending expression.

“Upside— uh, I don’t have to feel bad about not listening to you anymore-” He shakes his head towards his mirror image before turning to ignore him, swiping all of the bottles off of the shelves to further reveal the glass window, beginning to pull the shelves off of their supports.

“What are you doing?” His mirror laughs sarcastically as he watches.

“I have to get back, I’m running out of time!”

“It’s impossible. There’s no way in there. You’re stuck with me.”

“It’s not impossible!” Buck shouts to be heard over this negative side of himself. “There is not a locked room anywhere that, with the right tools and enough time, you can’t break into.”

He takes a deep breath to regulate his volume, staring at himself with a determined expression. “ I know that.” He lets out a short laugh as he gains a sudden weight in his hand, a bright red fire axe, one that he’d used so many times in the past. “’Cause I’m a firefighter.”

“There’s nothing for you in that room. No one in there needs you.”

“I’m not going back for them. I’m going back for me.” Buck gives the mirror of himself a final look of disgust before turning to swing the axe as hard as he can into the glass, a loud shattering sound verberating through his ears.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

You all watching in a terrible anxious anticipation as the jarring beeps continue to blare with no indication of change, your eyes locked on Buck’s face as you all desperately will for him to take a breath without any assistance.

And then he does, and the whole room immediately falls into tears. His parents cling to each other with loud sobs, Maddie’s shoulders tremble as she cups a hand over her mouth, and your knees almost give out underneath you if not for the added support of Bobby keeping you upright.

To say you were all relieved was a universally large understatement.

You were sure you’d never felt happier in your life to know the love of your life was okay. And god forbid you ever let him leave your side again.

#9 1 1 #9 1 1 fanfiction #buck x reader #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley angst #asks 🚒

[redocity]

Hiii i love your writing!! Currently keeping me alive 😩 im begging for some angst hurt to comfort. Maybe something involving abby but ultimately a happy ending?

MOVING ON - E.BUCKLEY

buck was finally taking the step to move out of abby’s apartment, except it’s not exactly that easy.

WARNINGS: buck has a minor breakdown oops, minor abby slander, happy ending

buck x fem!reader II hurt/comfort Il 2.3k Il requests open!

a/n: thank you for the request! і love writing angsty stuff

₊ ⊹ masterlist!!

Buck had finally decided that he’d had enough.

He wasn’t going to wait for Abby to come home anymore. He needed to move on. It’d been almost five months since she’d left, and five months of the team trying to convince him she wasn’t coming back.

He’d given up trying to convince them all that their relationship was just ‘unconventional’ by now, and after a particularly lonely Friday night he decided it was time to make a move.

"Can you believe it? After five months? I’m finally moving out of her apartment." Buck lugs a half filled cardboard box over to the dining table, dropping it down with a thud.

“I’m proud’a you,” You tap his shoulder with your hand as an indication for him to move, laughing with a roll of your eyes. “Glad you actually got to this point,”

He makes no resistance to your silent instruction, shifting to lean his back against a clear area of the table and watching as you rifle through the box to properly organise his horrible packing job. "I know you were all sick of me moaning about her. I still can’t believe she just up and left me like that."

“It was definitely a dick move, but if we’re being honest here she didn’t deserve you anyway,” You wave off his unspoken apology for talking your ear off for the last few months with your hand.

“I just thought we were really something you know? Then she up and leaves out of nowhere,” Buck sighs. He was sick of her, he was sick of the fact she’d left him with nothing but a half-arsed explanation and an empty promise of them staying in touch.

But sometimes he can’t help but reminisce on how she used to make him feel and believe that maybe she really was going to come home. “She was supposed to be the one, I can’t believe I was so stupid."

“Unfortunately Buck,” You reach over the table to grab the packing tape, it making a harsh noise as you rip off a piece to tape the - now neatly organised - box. “That how real dating works,”

"No, this wasn’t ‘real’ dating. Real dating doesn’t involve her leaving after she said I could move in, she didn’t even say a real goodbye, I had to find out that she wasn’t coming back from an Instagram post of her kissing some random guy in Thailand." Buck’s voice plainly displayed his emotional exhaustion.

He didn’t want to think about Abby anymore, but it was just so hard to get her out of his head when he really thought that their relationship was going somewhere.

“Head up mister,” You tap your middle and index fingers against the underside of his chin with a sigh. “There’s plenty more fish in the sea,”

Buck laughed exasperatedly. He hated that quote, it always felt so insincere. Then again that was probably because he’s used it so many times in the past when turning down his previous hookups who wanted a more serious relationship.

Now he was on the other end of it, and it just felt ironic.

“You just don’t get it, we were a perfect match for each other,” Buck exhales dramatically, turning his head up to the ceiling. "She was beautiful. She was kind. She was smart. Our sex life was perfect, she was exactly who I was looking for but she left. She just up and left."

“It happens unfortunately,” You shrug your shoulders slightly. “Especially with someone who was dealing with so many personal issues like she was,” You give up on your organising for now as you entertain Buck’s want to get everything off his chest.

“Looks like you finally got a taste of your own medicine hey?” Your attempt at lightening the mood a little is met by a roll of Buck’s eyes and a sigh.

You had a point to an extent, he’d never really dealt with a real breakup before even though he’d been with plenty of other women. "What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Everyone’s gotta experience heartbreak at some point, it’s part of your character development,” You mirror the way he’s leaning against the dining table yourself, pressing your lower back against the wood with your arms crossed.

"I don’t think I needed that character development," Buck sighed once again, "I wish I wasn’t experiencing it right now. I just wish she’d call me or even send me something, anything. Tell me she’s not coming back properly you know?"

He’d probably try to convince her into a long distance relationship if she did call him. But he wasn’t going to tell you that part. He was supposed to be moving on.

“I deleted her number from your phone so… she’s not going to,”

“You did what?” You could hear the immediate hurt in Buck’s tone at your confession, demonstrated further by the way his eyes turned to you in astonishment. “Why would you do that?”

“Because, you are trying to physically move on,” You gesture towards the cardboard boxes that are littered around the apartment containing Buck’s belongings. “But you haven’t mentally moved on, you need both otherwise you’re gonna crash,”

Buck hated that you were right.

You were always right.

You always knew what was best for him when he didn’t even realise what was best for himself.

"I hate that all you do is say the right things at the right time."

“It’s a talent of mine,” You nudge him gently with a smile, again trying to lift up the mood a little.

Sometimes he hated that you were so kind too.

Some twisted part of him wished that you would do something wrong, that you would say the wrong thing and give him an excuse to let out all of his pent up frustration without feeling bad about it afterwards.

But you never did. And he didn’t know whether it was a blessing or a curse.

Then he started thinking about Abby again, of course he did. She was like a parasite that had burrowed a little cavity in his brain and wouldn’t leave no matter how many times he hit himself over the head.

He’d never had a truly vulnerable conversation with her when they were together. Not without the sole focus being on her or her mother’s health. He couldn’t remember a conversation that they’d had that was actually about his problems.

He couldn’t hate her for that. Of course not. She was going through a lot. But it really put into perspective who was the primary giver of their relationship. And it’s starting to make him question whether it was authentic in the first place.

Did she see it as a proper relationship like he did? Or was she using it as a distraction from all of the stress she had looking after her mother all the time?

He didn’t even realise he was tearing up until a drop of water hit the back of his hand.

“Are you alright?” You turned your head towards him after noticing how he’d gone quiet, his head lowered to a point where you couldn’t fully see the expression on his face.

“I don’t know-” His words said one thing, but the way he shook his head said something else. He was very clearly not okay.

“Buck…” You sigh softly at his tone, sounding a little forced as if he was scared of his voice breaking halfway through his sentence.

“Can I have a hug? Please?” He asked his question hesitantly, no longer trying to hide the wavering in his tone. He felt stupid for feeling like this over something that was seemingly so trivial to him in the past, but right now he didn’t feel like doing anything but crying until he physically couldn’t anymore.

He felt even stupider acting like this in front of you of all people. You’d dealt with enough of his baggage already, and he didn’t want to do to you what Abby had done to him in essentially using you as a human diary.

You don’t hesitate in your answer at all. “C’mere,”

You barely even open your arms before the space is filled by Buck, his head hidden against the shoulder of your t-shirt to hide his expression from you.

You lean your weight fully against the edge of the table as you envelop him into a hug, rubbing your hand up and down his back in your best attempt at physically soothing him as he lets out a soft cry into your shoulder.

A fully grown man crying into the arms of someone half his size because he couldn’t handle a breakup. Who would’ve thought?

The longer you held him the less he felt like he had to be embarrassed about it. Somebody had his back, and he didn’t ever want that to end.

“You’re gonna be alright,” The hand that wasn’t gently rubbing soothing lines over his back cupped the back of his neck, holding his head securely against your shoulder.

You knew he was going to break down eventually. You were just glad he had someone present during it.

"Thank you," Buck whispered to you as he began to calm down, "Thank you so much."

Embracing you felt like home, the first time in a long time that he’d felt like he had support. Like he could be himself.

He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to let go, and for the first time in a while he felt as if everything would be okay.

“Don’t mention it,” You make no move to pull away from the hug once he’s calm enough to speak to you again, content to wait until Buck was comfortable enough to pull away in his own time.

He didn’t seem like he was going to let go any time soon.

“Can we just stay like this forever?” Buck’s voice is muffled against your shoulder as he speaks, and he links his arms together behind your waist. “That would be nice,”

You laugh shortly at the question, your shoulders shaking slightly as you do and in turn jostling Buck slightly in your arms. “I think my legs would give out after a while, you’re heavy you know,”

"They’d get stronger eventually," Buck muttered, "We could work out together. I could train you."

Buck was enjoying this more than he wanted to admit but, as usual, his mouth spoke before his brain had a chance to control it. He was just glad that you hadn’t actually pulled away yet.

“You can’t train me to do anything if you won’t let go,”You continue to laugh softly at his proposition as your hand scratches gently at the hairs at nape of his neck.

“You can just hold me then,” He drops the idea almost immediately under the favour of staying securely in your arms.

He’d never hugged any of his friends like this before, although he supposes he’s never actually wanted to. But here he is nonetheless, and it was probably the most comfortable he’d ever been in his life.

He just wanted to stay in the little cocoon your arms provided him away from reality for the rest of his life, maybe longer than that. The only question was whether you’d entertain his idea of abandoning everything productive you were supposed to be doing so that he could satiate his desire to stay exactly where he was.

“Not standing up,” You shake your head against the side of his with a small chuckle. “My legs are already starting to hurt,”

“On the couch then? We can watch that movie you were talking about,”

“We still have packing to finish Buckley,”

“Tomorrow,” Buck shakes his head as he makes a move to separate himself from you, although not fully as his hands still lay carefully positioned on your sides. “I genuinely cannot do any more packing today,”

You raise an eyebrow at him and he tilts his head at you with a sigh. “Come on, humour me here I’m emotionally vulnerable,”

He slips one of his hands towards your wrist and gives it a small tug, his grip loose enough that if you wanted to pull your arm away from him you could do so with minimal effort. You don’t of course, allowing him to tug you forward until you’re not leaning against the table any more, your weight fully supported on your feet. “We can watch that movie, order a pizza and I can wallow in my emotions for a few hours until I’m mentally fit to continue packing,”

“Sounds like you’re just trying to procrastinate,” You furrow your eyebrows accusingly, but the smile on your face betrays your feigned scolding, just grateful that he was sound enough to joke about his own misery now that he’d actually had the chance to vent his emotions.

“Oh I definitely am,” Buck’s smile mirrors yours emphatically, and he starts towards the living room with your wrist in his hand so you’re ‘forced’ to follow him. “I hate packing, it’s boring and everyone always tells me I’m doing it wrong,”

#9 1 1 #9 1 1 fanfiction #buck x reader #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #asks 🚒 #evan buckley angst #9-1-1 angst

[redocity]

Hi!! Saw your requests we open so I thought i’d send one in <3

So we know Buck loves kids right? Can we get a fic where the reader is a single mom and Buck meets her kid for the first time? Thank you!

BALL OF SUNSHINE - E.BUCKLEY

buck absolutely loved kids. so when your ex-husband throws a wrench in your plans he’s more than happy to finally meet the little boy you won’t stop talking about.

WARNINGS: single mother!reader, horrible ex-husband!oc, son!oc

evan buckley x fem!reader Il fluff? Il 2.8k Il requests open!

a/n: thank you for the request! i hope this was okay <3

₊ ⊹ masterlist!!

“You know that I can’t pick him up today,” You sigh into your phone’s receiver with an exasperated expression, pinching the bridge of your nose with your free hand. “You have my work schedule, you knew that I’m working ‘til seven,”

It was always like this, even before the divorce. Aaron just seemed to have an inherent talent of getting on your nerves and uprooting your schedules.

“Look,” You sigh heavily, dragging your palm down your face. “Either you pick up Matthew like we’ve arranged for the past five years, or you don’t see him at all.”

You can hear Aaron’s tone shift instantly through the phone speaker and he becomes enraged at your comment.

His eyes narrow and he snarls into the phone. “You have no right to keep him away from me. Just because you decided to leave me doesn’t mean that I’m not still his father!”

“Then be his father! Pick him up from school like you’re supposed to and look after him until my shift is over. You know how this works.” You’re pacing up and down the break area by now, thankful that you were the only one on the upper floor.

“Well I can’t just pick Matthew up from school today. Things have come up.” Aaron hisses into the phone.

“What has come up Aaron? something more important than your own child?”

“I have a date, okay?” Aaron answers angrily. “I’m meeting with some girl for coffee. Can’t I have a life too? You’re the one who decided to divorce me, remember?”

“You’re a father, Matthew is more important than a date with a girl that might not even go anywhere,” You’re becoming increasingly frustrated at his attitude, and it’s very quickly reminding you of why you divorced him in the first place.

“I know I’m a father but I’m trying to move on with my life! I can’t be expected to just drop everything every time I'm needed. I have my own life and wants too!” His tone carries a noticeable edge as he replies to you, and you can practically picture the look on his face.

“He’s a five year old Aaron. It’s not like he can get home by himself.”

“Then get a maid or babysitter or something, I don’t care! I’m sure you’ve got plenty of options. Or how about you change your goddamn shift so that you can pick him up? It can’t be that hard to switch with someone for once.”

“That’s not how my job works and you know it.” You press your lips taut into a line in attempt to keep your seething anger suppressed.

“Whatever…” Aaron snaps back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m busy tonight, so you’re just going to have to figure this thing out yourself. I’m sure you’ll manage.”

“Aaron-” You don’t even have the chance to get his whole name out of your mouth before the end dial echoes out of your phone speaker, and you have half the mind to throw it at the wall out of frustration.

If you’d told your sixteen year old self that you’d be a single mother and divorcee at twenty two you’re sure you would have laughed in your own face.

Yet here you were twenty six years into your miserable life and four years rid of the parasite that is your ex-husband. The only silver lining was Matthew, and that was only because he was basically the definition on a perfect child.

“You good?” Buck’s voice pulls you out of your moment of self-beration as he rounds the stairs up to the lounge area, a concerned expression on his face.

You turn sharply at his voice, jolted out of your own mind once you realise that there are in fact other people walking around. “Yeah I’m- Fine,”

His face softens slightly and he asks with genuine concern, “You sure? Aaron getting on your nerves again?”

You sigh heavily at Buck’s question, dragging your palm down your face as you shove your phone in your pocket. “He bailed out of picking up Matthew from school and I don’t get off shift ‘til seven,”

Buck notices the change in your mannerisms and can practically feel the waves of frustration emanating from your body. You look like you just want to curl up into a ball and have a good long cry.

He can't help but feel bad at seeing this side of you. You're normally so strong and independent, yet here you are now feeling like a complete mess because of this situation. “I'm sorry...”

“It’s fine, I’ll figure something out-“

“It's not fine.” Buck replies softly. You're clearly unhappy. And he can't stand to see you like this. "We can bring him back to the station? He loves firefighters right?"

You shake your head quickly as you shut down his idea, raking a hand through your hair. “I don’t even know if Bobby would allow him to stay here-”

“Bobby wouldn't say no. He loves kids you know that, and everyone on the team’s been wanting to meet him for ages. Plus we could always just bring him along on a call or something. It's the middle of a Wednesday afternoon, it's not like we're going to be busy with anything major. Just something small or a car accident, nothing that would be dangerous...” Buck seems convinced by his own idea.

“I don’t know Buck-“ You purse your lips awkwardly at his suggestion, finding hesitance both out of anxiety of Matthew inconveniencing the team and also because it could possibly put his safety in jeopardy if you were to take him on a call with you and something happened.

“C'mon, it would only be for a little while. I’m sure Matthew would love to get to ride in the fire truck. He'd be the coolest kid in his class. Besides, he'd be safe, we'd make sure of that. It wouldn't be too much of an inconvenience either. We'd all love to meet him.” Buck dismisses your concerns with a small shake of his head, gently pushing his idea for what could be a fun day for Matthew in the wake of his father’s failure.

And as much as you wanted to deny his ideas, you didn’t really have any other option. “I’ll speak to Bobby about it,”

You climb into the back of the fire truck with a small sigh. You’d really let Buck convince you into bringing your five-year-old to work with you.

You’d been most surprised at the willingness from Bobby to allow him in the station, although you suppose Chris had opened him up to the idea with how often he was here with Eddie.

Buck smiles as he gets into the driving seat and starts the engine, apparently not just statistics with seeing him at the station, but wanting to be the first one on the team to meet him.

Bucks inherent love for kids was always quite funny to you considering the fact that he’d never actually talked about having kids if his own, but if the way he acted with Chris was any indication, you knew Matthew would be in good hands.

You pull on your headset as Buck revs the truck’s engine ready to head off to Matthew’s school, shaking your head at him even though he can’t see it. “You’re ridiculous you know that?”

“What can I say? I try my best to make everything better,” Buck chuckles from the driver’s seat. “It’s no big deal. I’m glad to do it. Plus, this way I get the little ‘ball of sunshine’ you keep raving about,”

You laugh softly into the microphone at Buck’s enthusiasm at picking Matthew up from school. “He’ll probably be just as excited to meet all of you-”

Buck smiles softly at your laughter as the truck pulls out of the station, making a mental note to bring up Matthew around you more. Just seeing you genuinely happy and laughing is enough to fill him with joy.

You arrive at Matthew’s school soon enough, with Buck pulling up the truck right at the entrance of the school, where a handful of kids are standing in a group in the afternoon sun waiting for their parents to pick them up.

Buck rolls the window down once he’s parked, watching as you pull open the side door to get out of the truck, holding your hand perpendicular to your eyebrows to block the sun from your eyes as you scan the group of kids for your son.

“Mommy!” A small boy smiles excitedly and waves enthusiastically at you as the rest of the kids on the sidewalk start pointing and whispering to each other, and he runs over to the firetruck with his arms extended in your direction.

Buck guesses that must be Matthew, and he is just as goddamn adorable as you’d described him to be. He was almost the spitting image of you, hair colour, eye colour and all, the perfect little mini-you.

“Hey baby! How was school?” You pick the boy up enthusiastically, holding him on your hip as you press kisses all over his face. Buck swears he melts at the sight.

“Good!” Matthew giggles as he wraps his arms around you. “Why are you here mommy? I thought you were working?” He says excitedly as he looks from you to the firetruck and at Buck, who is leaning against the open window of the truck with an ear-to-ear grin on his face.

“Daddy was a bit busy so he couldn’t pick you up today, so Buck had the idea to pick you up in the truck, cool right?” You point towards Buck with a small smile as you move a small section of hair from his forehead, downplaying how dismissive Aaron had been about picking Matthew up from school.

You point in Buck’s direction as you mention him, bouncing Matthew gently in your arms as you walk over to the open window, and Buck gives him a little wave that Matthew eagerly returns with a smile.

“Very cool!” Matthew cheers excitedly as he looks between you and Buck. The two of you seem excited, so he knows that he should be too. His grin gets wider as he tries to take in everything at once. "Does that mean I’ll get to ride in the fire truck?”

"Yes it does little man," Buck says with a bright smile, immediately enraptured with Matthew’s excitable attitude. He really was a ball of sunshine. “Are you ready?”

"Mhm!” Matthew replies confidently, his eyes brimming with excitement at the thought of riding in the firetruck. He smiles back at Buck and holds his hand up for a high-five before turning back to you. “Are you going to be in the fire truck too mommy?”

“Yes baby, I’m going to be riding with you too,” You give a short laugh at the mild absurdness at his question, giving Buck’s forearm a squeeze of appreciation for how child-friendly he was before carrying Matthew into the back of the truck and closing the door behind the two of us.

Matthew smiles excitedly as he is buckled in the back of the truck with you. He seems to forget all about his dad not picking him up today, his whole focus on the fire truck.

“What's that thing?” He points curiously at your headset as you place it over your head, scrunching his eyebrows together when you adjust one to put on his head too.

“It’s a headset baby, it lets us speak to Buck in the front seat as he drives, say hi!”

Matthew puts the headset on and smiles before he speaks into it. "Hi Buck!" he yells excitedly into the headset.

Buck smiles widely back at Matthew in the rear-view mirror. "Hey there little man," he yells happily into the speaker. "How're you feeling, excited?"

Matthew laughs excitedly and nods his head. "Yea! It's so cool in here!" he shouts excitedly at Buck. "Can you make the noise?" he shouts into the headset with his usual enthusiasm and excitement.

You chuckle softly at Matthew’s display of excitement coming out the mess of his hair with your fingers as he continues to speak to Buck with all the excitement of if it was Christmas morning.

Buck smiles brightly at you from the front seat. Hearing Matthew happily talking to him through the headset fills his heart with pride. Here you are, sitting in the back seat of the firetruck with your son, and he can't think of anything that makes him more happy.

He looks back into the rear-view mirror and meets Matthew's eyes with a proud grin. "I'll make the noise for you, buddy. Just hang on."

Buck reaches his hands up towards the steering wheel and begins to push buttons and flick a few switches. Matthew squeals in excitement as the siren begins to blast, laughing excitedly as the sound fills the air.

“Having fun?” You have to raise your voice slightly to be able to hear yourself even through the noise cancelling of the headphones, giving Matthew’s knee a small squeeze with a smile plastered on your face.

He responds to your question with a sharp nod and a double thumbs up, and you can’t help but laugh at the adorable mess of the sight. You could swear your heart was melting at seeing him so happy at experiencing something that you’d become so desensitised to through working everyday.

"He’s having the time of his life," Buck smiles at you in the rear-view mirror. "Look at him." Buck gestures with a nod of his head towards Matthew, who is visibly grinning from ear to ear. He's giggling with delight as the noise of the the sirens fill the air. Buck is surprised by how much fun the young boy is having, but he isn't disappointed. He's thrilled by the energy that the little boy is giving off.

“Do you want to come back to the station with mommy for a bit baby?”

Matthew nods his head vigorously. "Yes please mommy! I'd love to come to the station!" he says happily, his grin spreading even wider across his face. He's clearly having the time of his life with you, and he wants to keep the fun going as long as he possibly can.

“To the station it is then,” You laugh softly, hugging Matthew into your side to press a kiss to the top of his head.

To say you were relieved by the fact that you’d managed to work something out in terms of looking after Matthew whilst still on the clock was a massive understatement. And the fact that Matthew seemed genuinely excited about it was even more relieving.

Buck had really come through today. You’d have to make it up to him at some point.

“You're the best mommy in the world mommy,” Matthew says excitedly as he hugs you tightly, his lips curling up into the biggest grin as he wraps his arms around you.

Buck glances back into the mirror once more and laughs to himself. Your son is so full of love and joy, and he supposes that Matthew only has you to thank for that.

“Awe thank you baby,” You lean down to press another kiss the Matthew’s forehead. “I love you,”

“I love you too mommy,” Matthew replies happily as he leans his little head against you, giggling with each kiss that you give him.

Buck glances back into the mirror with another big grin. Watching you two together is just so sweet.

He really is your little ball of sunshine.

#9 1 1 #9 1 1 fanfiction #buck x reader #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley fluff #9 1 1 fluff #asks 🚒

[redocity]

welcome to the redocity hub, where i hope to fulfil all of your evan buckley wants and needs :) click below the cut to learn more about me and my guidelines for this blog and its requests!

₊ ⊹ evan buckley masterlist

₊ ⊹ most recent work ~ push through

₊ ⊹ about me ⊹ ₊

₊ ⊹ pen name - red

₊ ⊹ age - 18 (21/09/05)

₊ ⊹ nationality - french-british

₊ ⊹ pronouns - she/they

₊ ⊹ sexuality - aroace

₊ ⊹ general rules ⊹ ₊

₊ ⊹ please do not interact with anyone on my page in a negative way, no matter race, gender, sexuality, religion or otherwise.

₊ ⊹ just be good people please and thank you <3

₊ ⊹ request guidelines ⊹ ₊

₊ ⊹ i exclusively write for evan buckley from 9-1-1

₊ ⊹ male, female, and gender neutral reqs. will be accepted (if no gender is specified i will automatically make it gn)

₊ ⊹ don't include nasty stuff like, incest, etc. please and thank you

₊ ⊹ please remember i'm a full time student and so will take time to complete any requests you send in <3

#evan buckley x reader #buck x reader #evan buckley #9 1 1 #9 1 1 x reader #9 1 1 fanfiction #redocity 🧯

[redocity]

GENUITY - E.BUCKLEY

How does buck get you to start taking his offers seriously instead of blowing them off under the idea that he’s not being serious?

WARNINGS: buck being buck yk?, lots of innuendos

evan buckley x fem!reader || fluff?? || 1.2k || requests open!

a/n: so i have another blog that i’ve been writing for spencer reid from criminal minds on for over six months, but i’ve recently fallen into the trap of 9-1-1, so here we are 😭 this is my first attempt at writing for buck so bare with me whilst i learn the ropes of his characterisation

₊ ⊹ masterlist!!

“Can somebody grab me a wrench please?” You slide backwards on the car creeper board until your hand is extended far enough outwards that it’s visible from where you’re lying underneath the fire truck.

Buck comes to your rescue almost immediately, leaning over with a small allen wrench in hand.

“Here you go, princess,” he says with a grin. “Anything else I can get you, while I’m down here?”

You roll your eyes at the nickname, and although he can’t see it under the truck, the way you practically snatch the wrench from him is inference enough about how you feel about it. “A million dollars maybe? That would be great,”

He laughs softly at your sarcasm. “It most definitely would. Although, I don't think the department will readily put that much money in any of our pockets.”

He's still grinning at you as you disappear back underneath the truck again. “So, how's my favorite mechanic doing today?”

“I think I have oil in my eyelashes and it is not fun-” Your voice strains slightly as you speak, presumably under whatever force you’re putting on the wrench. “Why do I always get stuck with the shitty claustrophobic jobs-”

“You get stuck with the claustrophobic and icky jobs because you're the only one that can actually fit in the really tight spots.” Buck leans against the side of the fire truck with his arms crossed and an amused expression flooding his features.

“Maybe that’s an issue the rest of you should start working on-“

He laughs again. "I'm all for working on my flexibility, but those tight spaces just aren't meant for the rest of us. That’s what you’re for,”

You make a disgruntled noise from underneath the truck and Buck looks down to where it comes from with a laugh. "It must be pretty nasty, under there, huh?"

“You have no idea-" You shake your head against the plastic board despite the fact that he can’t see it. “Go get me an oil pan will you? make it two actually-”

He chuckles and nods. "You got it, princess."

He grabs the oil pans you asked for and walks back to you with an enthusiastic bounce in his step.

It was one of those days. One of those days that you couldn’t officially acknowledge or else have everyone’s shift turn into a living hell. The dreaded Q-word.

"I don't know how you deal with all the gunk you see in these machines. Doesn't the smell make you want to hurl?" He slides the pans underneath the bed of the fire truck before leaning his side against it.

“pretty sure i’ve singed off all of my scent receptors by now,” You position one of the pans underneath the cap of the oil tank, unscrewing it with a minor effort from how tight it was left on and quickly retreating to the side so you wouldn’t get the sputtering liquid all over yourself.

“Right, no scent receptors to make you want to hurl.” He laughs shortly at your explanation with a small shake of his head and an ever-present smile adorning his face. “You’ve got some serious skill you know. It’s impressive for a tiny little mechanic like you.”

“Watch it or I’ll flick used oil all over you,” You shake your head at his comment with an exaggerated scoff as you switch the oil pans once the first is filled to its capacity.

“You think I’m scared of a little oil?” He laughs again at your threat, one he knows you’re not actually serious about. One he hopes you’re not actually serious about because oil stains were a nightmare to get out of his uniform.

"Besides, it would give me an excuse to take a hot shower. And I'm sure I could convince you to join." He throws the idea out like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

It was practically a staple of your conversations by now, taken as harmless bantering back and forth rather than you thinking Buck was actually interested in you properly.

“In your dreams Buckley,” You push the oil pans out from underneath the truck once the tank is empty, following after them yourself as you sit upright for the first time in almost twenty minutes to wipe your hands on an oil rag.

He feigns indignation. "Come on, princess. Don't tell me you won't even entertain the idea a little bit." He steps closer to you and takes the rag from your hand and starts to clean off your face. “I’m attractive, you’re attractive, what’s the harm in it?”

“Don’t push your luck,” You shake your head against his attempt at wiping an oil stain from your forehead, presumably from where you’d wiped it with the back of your hand, and push his hand out of your face.

“Wow… a little touchy, aren’t we? Someone isn’t getting enough action at home.” He’s still grinning, even as you push his hand away and take the rag back from him. “Do you think Bobby has some of those chocolate chip cookies stashed around here somewhere? I’m pretty sure if you had a few of those it’d sweeten you up a little, and then I can take you in the back room and…”

“okay that’s enough talking from you Romeo,” You throw the rag at him with a roll of your eyes as you assemble a clean oil filter to fit back in the truck’s tank.

Sometimes you wonder to yourself how you manage to not crumble under the weight of Buck’s innuendos, especially when he’s talking to you like he’s suggesting you take a stroll in the park rather than get you under him.

“Aww, you know you can’t stay mad at me.” He catches the rag just before it can pelt him in the face. “What if I promise not to make another joke about us doing the nasty? I’m not done talking to you yet,”

He turns his expression into what is almost a pout, an exaggerated showing of the fact that he’s not satisfied with ending your conversation where it was.

But even Buck knows when to cut things short.

“I know I usually joke about how good it’s gonna be to finally get you alone, but if it really bothers you, I can stop.” He absently fiddles with the scrap of fabric in his hand, filing it into a square and leaving it on the floor next to you.

“It’s fine,” You roll your eyes with a dismissive laugh as you wave off his offer to ease up on the incessant teasing. “I’ve learned to not take a single word that comes out of your mouth seriously,”

Oh how he wishes you would.

#evan buckley x reader #evan buckley #buck x reader #9 1 1 #9 1 1 fanfiction #9-1-1 x reader #oliver stark #evan buckley fluff #9-1-1 fluff