#Eddie 'No Game' Diaz

[daniwib]

"You did WHAT in MY hot tub?!"

Buck stays with Jee at Maddie and Chimney’s home while they’re on their honeymoon. When things don’t go so well, Eddie swoops in to the rescue and all unknowingly sweeps Buck off his feet with his competence.

If only he’d known he didn’t need to try one of Christopher’s dating strategies…

Chimney’s new hot tub is involved. He will never look at it the same way again.

Read on ao3 here

Rating: Mature

Length: 6.6k

[sofa-king-lame]

39. “I forgot I was a single parent.” ? 👀

Thank you! And thank you to everyone who sent me prompts. I will get to them over the next few days!

—

“Did you know single fathers make up only sixteen percent of single parent households?” Buck asks. Eddie nods his head but doesn’t look up from the book he’s reading, humming in agreement. He’s content just listening to the sound of Buck’s voice, especially off the back of their last call.

“That’s…not a lot,” Hen muses. “What else you got for us?”

“That number has increased 60% in the last ten years,” Buck continues. “It’s one of the fastest growing family situations in the US.”

“Huh,” Chimney hums. “I have spoken to a larger than usual number of single dads at parties we’ve been taking Jee to recently.”

“Why exactly are you looking up statistics on single dads?” Bobby asks. Buck shrugs just a little too casually and continues scrolling on his phone.

“Yeah, why not single mothers?” Eddie pipes up.

“Do you see any single mothers around here?” Buck questions.

“Do you see any single fathers?” Eddie retorts. The room goes silent, and when he looks up everyone is staring at him. Hen looks confused, Bobby raises an eyebrow at him, Chimney looks like he’s trying not to laugh, and Buck…he can’t read the expression on Buck’s face.

“Eddie…you’re a single father,” Hen reminds him gently, and…fuck. What the fuck just happened.

“Uh, right,” Eddie forces out, laughing in a way that isn’t fooling anyone. He is blessedly, wonderfully, saved by the alarm blaring.

—

Back to back calls keep them busy until shift change, and Eddie pointedly ignores the weird looks everyone throws him in the back of the engine. Everyone except Buck, who won’t look at him.

—

“So, uh. What the hell was that?” Chimney snorts, popping a fresh piece of gum in his mouth. They’re finally back at the station, Eddie has showered and is looking for Buck.

“Yeah, I’m not discussing this with you,” Eddie huffs. “Did Buck leave already?”

“Hightailed it out of here while you were showering,” Chimney sighs.

“Fantastic. Did he say where he was going?” Eddie asks. Usually Buck would follow him home where they’d cook whatever meal it was time for, eat, and pretend they weren’t falling asleep on the couch while watching a movie. If Christopher wasn’t at school he’d eat with them, ask for Buck’s help with his homework, then hole himself away in his room until it was time for bed.

“Home,” Chimney tells him, and Eddie doesn’t think twice before heading for his own house. As he suspected, Buck’s Jeep is already in the driveway with Buck sitting on the front steps.

“You know you have a key, right?” Eddie says, trying and failing to keep his tone light.

“Are you seeing someone?” Buck asks quietly, sounding…broken.

“Like a therapist?” Eddie asks back, though he knows what Buck means. Eddie hasn’t dated since the whole Kim disaster, doesn’t want to date anyone who isn’t Buck.

“Like a woman,” Buck sighs. “Are - are you dating? Because back at the station, you said…it seemed like you were saying you’re dating someone and it’s serious enough that you think of them as Christopher’s second parent. And I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me.”

“I’m not dating anyone,” Eddie assures him. “And I was thinking of you.”

“What?” Buck breathes, finally standing up. Eddie’s on the path, so on the step Buck is towering over him. It makes Eddie feel safe.

“I honestly forgot I was a single parent,” Eddie laughs, “because you’re always here for Chris.”

“Oh,” Buck murmurs. A complicated series of emotions flicker across his face, just for a fraction of a second before they’re gone and Buck is schooling his expression into something neutral. His shaking hands betray his confidence.

“And for me,” Eddie adds, joining Buck on the step. Eddie had realised minutes into knowing Buck that face to face, he was directly eye level with Buck’s mouth. It’s very distracting, especially when Eddie notices Buck’s eyes flick down his own mouth. Eddie takes the opportunity to take one of Buck’s hands and squeeze, Buck returning the grip tightly

“I mean, yeah,” Buck chuckles softly. “I always will be.”

“I love you,” Eddie confesses quietly. “I haven’t thought of myself as a single parent for a long time. Because we’ve had you.”

“You always will,” Buck whispers. “I love you too. Like, a stupid amount.”

“Good,” Eddie hums. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Okay,” Buck sighs, not even giving Eddie the chance to move before he a closing the space between them to press his lips against Eddie’s. It’s warm, it’s syrupy, it’s so very Buck, and Eddie is never letting him go.

[kat-rose-griffith]

So sorry that I wanted two characters that have been through trauma and loneliness to find happiness and love in the comfort that they have with each other. What a silly goose I was hoping for that

[polls4you]

Found Family Battle (Second Round)

[mythtakens]

Buck and Eddie at work 😗✌️🚒

[iinryer]

sketch swap! [puts @try-set-me-on-fire ‘s sketch into a rock tumbler]

[pigeonxp]

if buddie doesnt go canon literally what is even the point like

[gayeddieagenda]

eddie have u talked to your son about how you were just barely older than him when you met shannon. have u talked to your son about how u were a teenager and didn't know who you were but u got set on a path anyway. have u shown him your wedding photos lately. your prom photos. how young u were in both of them, playing dress-up in a rented suit. shannon left chris a letter; what did u tell him? how does chris even start to understand what eddie and shannon's relationship was actually like for them (how does eddie?)? i know eddie is about 10 thousand miles away from understanding what is going on in his own heart but he is rapidly running out of time when he can push everything away on the assumption that chris is too young to understand. he's almost the age eddie was when he got started on this path he's still on today - is eddie still too young to understand how he got here? where he wishes he was? where he wants to be in five, six, seven years, when chris is the age eddie was when he was starting a family?

[hurtingbuck]

I let my guard down And then you pulled the rug

[anirudhpisharody]

In Vietnamese, the word for missing someone and remembering them is the same: nhớ. Sometimes, when you ask me over the phone, Có nhớ mẹ không? I flinch, thinking you meant, Do you remember me?

I miss you more than I remember you.

first half inspired by

[i-will-say-what-i-believe]

Eddie suffered enough for 5 seasons🥺

NOW, its time for the tables to turn😁

And for karma to hit back😁

Eddie befriending people EASILY when he WANTS TO shouldn't come off as a surprise considering he:

1) Won over the entire 118 the moment he stepped into the firehouse 😏😎

2) Befriended Buck in a single day even when Buck was being territorial😏😎

3) Is well-known at the LAFD underground poker games😏😎

4) Befriended the entire 126😏😎

5) Made besties at the dispatch😏😎

6) Now, this😏😎

[princessfbi]

Tommy’s arms are warm as they wrap around Buck. + bucktommy

Tommy’s arms were warm as they wrapped around Buck. Warm and big.

Buck was still getting used to that. Big arms that could wrap around his waist and still have room to tighten. Big chest for him to curl up against and pillow his head. Big hands.

God, Tommy’s hands were huge.

A stubbled cheek scratched against his own before a soft kiss pressed into the column of his throat. Buck melted against the warmth, folding into Tommy as the bed dipped with their weight. Buck let out a noise from the back of his throat as he slid into Tommy's lap.

“You’re okay,” Tommy reminded him. Reminded him because Buck had asked him to. Something he should’ve done before the first time he slept over. But Buck had been foolishly hoping that they had gone away.

He hadn’t had a nightmare in the first two months of dating Tommy. They had started staying over after the first month. Tommy still took things slow— painfully slow if anyone asked a hot and bothered Buck when all he wanted was to feel Tommy toss him around a bit and then kiss him until he couldn’t see straight— but sharing space between each other had felt as natural as breathing. A hooked ankle under the table. A hand held in the car. A lean into each other’s weight while Buck inhaled the masculine scent that still sent a shockwave through Buck’s system. It’d been easy to feel safe and unguarded around one another to fall asleep in bed together.

Two months in and Buck had thought— stupidly— that they were gone. That every night would involve him curled up on Tommy’s chest or Tommy pressed to his back or Tommy’s head pillowed on his bicep while he clung to Buck’s waist. That every night would be perfect. Untainted.

Then the first nightmare came. It’d been an ugly, gnarly twisted monster of a thing. One that made Buck’s skin slick with a cold sweat and the oxygen trapped in his lungs. Seeing Tommy’s freaked out expression while he held Buck’s hand through a panic attack that sent him flying to the bathroom to puke had been almost worse than the nightmare itself.

Guilt and embarrassment had eaten away at his already frayed nerves. Tommy had sat down beside him on the too cold tile and rubbed his back while Buck retched. Then Tommy did the only thing he could do in that situation.

“What can I do?” He had asked.

“You’re okay, baby. Just breathe,” Tommy whispered into Buck’s skin, a firm but gentle hand rubbing across his sternum.

“Remind me I’m okay. That it’s— it’s not real.” Buck had said with his cheeks burning with humiliation and his eyes pointed down at his lap. Tommy had curled two fingers under his chin and tipped his eyes back up.

“Eddie’s fine. He’s at home. He’s okay,” Tommy said over and over again.

Buck must have been talking in his sleep. It was the only explanation for how Tommy knew that Buck’s nightmare had tasted like copper. That the ground had shook beneath his feet, making it impossible to get to his friend as he bled out on the pavement. How he’d reached and reached, screaming his name as something dragged him further and further away. His throat was raw from screaming when Eddie’s head and lulled in his direction but there hadn’t been a face. Just a sheen filter over a lifeless expression that would’ve broken Buck.

Tommy pressed his big palm flat over Buck’s racing heart and pulled Buck further into his lap, scooping up Buck’s legs so he could hold him fully.

“He’s okay. You’re okay. It was just a bad dream.” Tommy murmured into his hair as Buck curled his fists into Tommy’s sleep shirt.

“Sorry…” Buck croaked because even through the haze of the lingering panic still choking him, he could see how late... or rather early it was and Tommy had a shift.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Tommy said, tightening his hold around Buck until the pressure started to ease away the tight ball of tension in Buck’s chest. “Just breathe for me.”

Buck breathed and it was stilted and ragged but it was real. Real and warm like Tommy curled around him.

It helped. It helped more than Buck could possibly say.

[hisbucky]

Eddie: Never have I ever broke my best friend's ankle to get attention from a crush. Buck, glares: Never have I ever went on dates with someone who looked like my dead wife. Tommy: Never have I ever raised a kid with another man without being in a relationship with them. Eddie: ... Buck: ... Tommy, calmly drinks his beer: Now that the two of you have settled down, I believe I was promised some cuddling tonight.

[buddie-buddie]

Buddie + “Who did this?”

“Who did this?” Eddie’s voice is hard and icy in a way that's almost foreign to Buck. Almost, but not entirely. His eyes drop to where Eddie’s lips are pressed into a line, his jaw set, and memories of derailed trains and risky rescues and Abby flash in his mind. 

Buck doesn’t have time to focus too much on that, though, because Eddie's closing the distance between them and taking Buck's chin in his hands. Everything else fades away until there’s nothing but the familiar warmth of Eddie’s gentle touch and the pleasant ache in Buck’s chest, the same one that blooms behind his ribs each time Eddie’s nearby. 

Eddie touches him like he's something sacred, holds him like he's something precious.

“I–” Buck hesitates. It’s not that he wants to hide anything from Eddie, he just… he doesn’t want to worry him, is all.

It’s bad enough he has a fresh bruise blooming across his jaw, blues and purples swimming beneath swollen skin. Swollen skin that’s split in one spot, held together with a butterfly bandage that Hen insisted he actually needed, despite his protests and attempts at bargaining. Of course Eddie’s going to worry when he sees that.

And see that, he did. About three seconds after Buck walked through the door of Eddie’s house– no, not Eddie’s house. Their house. His lease on the loft had officially ended two weeks ago, but he’d been living at the Diaz house for the better part of the last four months, since the morning he woke up sleepy and cranky, grumbling about having to stop by the loft before their shift to get more clothes and Eddie had kissed the spot behind his ear and murmured, “What if you bring them all over?”

Buck had turned over in Eddie’s arms, suddenly wide awake. “E-Eddie.”

“Bring them all,” Eddie had said, bringing a hand up and tracing Buck’s birthmark with gentle, reverent touches. “And all your shoes, too. And the frying pan Bobby got you for Christmas two years ago that you said you want to be buried with. And the books on your coffee table and that plant you keep killing and honestly? Your mattress. It’s better than this one.”

“Eddie,” Buck had breathed, unable to get anything else out past the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat. 

“Buck,” Eddie said simply. Buck would never tire of hearing his name on Eddie’s lips. “Stay.”

And Buck did.

This isn’t just Eddie’s house anymore, it’s their house. And a few minutes ago, when Buck got home, Eddie had come to the front door to greet him, just as he always did when he heard Buck’s key in the lock. He rounded the corner with a warm, easy smile, one that instantly fell the second his eyes landed on Buck. He had stepped forward, closing the distance between them and reaching for Buck’s bruised face with a gentle insistence that was still fond, even when laced in desperation. 

Buck didn’t want to worry him any more than he already had. Plus, really, there’s nothing to worry about. Their last call of the shift had been to an overturned vehicle, and the driver was more than twice the legal limit and just as combative as he was plastered. Buck had tried to stop the guy from crawling out his window– Chim and Hen had wanted to get him on a backboard– but it was no use. The guy was out of the car and stumbling towards Buck with a fury in his eyes, accusing him of being the one to call the police. Buck was halfway through denying that claim when a fist flew at his face, pain exploding from his jaw as he reeled back, stumbling to the side as his hand flew to his face.  

There’s a fire burning in Eddie’s eyes, dark and protective. But more than that, there’s a softness there, a gentleness hidden in the way Eddie’s eyebrows lift just slightly, his eyes wide and searching as he waits Buck out.

“Buck,” Eddie says finally, barely above a whisper. It’s a plea more than anything. 

Six years of knowing Eddie and six months of dating him and Buck still folds like a cheap suit when Eddie looks at him like that. “It's nothing. Just a drunk idiot on our last call.”

Eddie makes a dissatisfied sound under his breath, running his fingers over the bruised skin with a touch so light and careful, it sets Buck’s heart on fire. “And this person was dealt with.” It’s not a question so much as it is a statement, one that speaks to his trust in the rest of the 118. His faith in them to have Buck's back, especially when he can't be the one to do it himself.

Buck nods the best he can with his chin still in Eddie’s hands. “Bobby,” he says, and it’s explanation enough. “And then Athena.” 

Eddie hums, and Buck can tell that while the answer satisfies him, it’s not enough to chase away all of the concern that’s needling at him. Buck brings his hands up, curling his fingers around the warm skin of Eddie’s wrists. The steady beat of Eddie’s pulse beneath his fingertips is instantly grounding. And maybe just as much for Eddie, too, if the small sigh that falls from his lips is any indication. 

“Baby,” Buck says softly. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Eddie’s voice is small when he answers, quiet and resigned in a way that splits Buck open just as much as Eddie’s words do. “I wasn’t there.”

Through no fault of his own. Christopher was running a fever the night before their shift started, and with Pepa out of town and Carla at Morongo again, Eddie had called out to stay home with him. Which he feels guilty about, if the resignation in his voice and the regret in his eyes are anything to go off of.

“You were exactly where you needed to be,” Buck reminds him. 

Eddie lets out a small sigh. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Doesn’t mean I hate it any less, though.”

Buck shrugs. “Never expected you would.” A small smile tugs at his lips, and he ignores the way that even the slight motion sends a fresh wave of pain radiating across his jaw. “Chim says we’re ‘sickeningly codependent.’” 

“Maybe,” Eddie admits, his thumb ghosting over Buck’s bottom lip. His gaze skates from Buck’s eyes to his lips, then back up again. Buck can see the moment Eddie hesitates, can see the flash of trepidation in his eye. 

“You’re not going to hurt me,” Buck assures him. “In fact,” he says, almost conspiratorially. “It could be what heals me.”

Eddie hums, a smile playing on his face. “Better give it a try, then.”

“Guess so.” 

Eddie finally, finally kisses him, and it may not patch Buck’s skin back together or undo the broken blood vessels, but it chases away every last bit of the pain. It ebbs away until there’s nothing but Eddie. Nothing but the feel of Eddie’s fingers in his hair and Eddie’s lips on his, nothing but the way Eddie grins against Buck’s mouth and Buck feels good and right and whole. He feels like an unmoored ship who’s anchor’s just hit the sand, no longer adrift. Steady. Grounded. Safe. 

He feels like he’s home. 

After all, he is. 

prompt game

[chronicowboy]

become obsessed with the idea of buck spending the entire episode being so jealous about eddie suddenly getting close to tommy only to end up going the bucktommy route where buck then wilfully misinterprets his own jealousy as about tommy because it's much easier therefore delaying his feelings realisation for the spectacularly worst moment sometime in the future

[honestlydarkprincess]

9-1-1 as text posts but make it quantity over quality