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usercelestial · 19 hours ago

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Forever Love

General Audiences | Words: 3,753 | TW: Sexual Harassment

Buck misses Tommy. He always misses Tommy. He misses him when he’s in the bathroom, when he’s at work, when he’s sat across the table and their feet aren’t touching. Buck is self-aware enough to know that he has a problem. But this time, it’s serious.

He’s drunk. And Tommy isn’t here.

And they’re fighting.

He’s just a little past tipsy in a gay bar where the music is too loud and the floor is too sticky but the rainbow flags in the window give him this fuzzy feeling in his chest. It’s nice, knowing he has a community, having a sense of belonging. Having something he didn’t know he was missing, being with people who are like him. It’s queerness and tacky rainbow tank tops and seeing color for the first time and breathing in and out without the weight of something missing sitting on his chest.

“Dude, this place is great!”

Oh, Eddie’s here too.

They started the night at Eddie’s house. Buck ran to Eddie the minute he slammed the front door of his and Tommy’s new house and jumped in his Jeep.

He doesn’t remember what the fight was about, not just because the alcohol was kind of making it hard to remember details, but because it was really about nothing in particular. Or maybe it was about everything. All the little things like Tommy leaving his shoes in the doorway and Buck forgetting to load the dishwasher. One bad shift, a few small jabs, and then suddenly they were screaming at each other. And then Buck ran.

They had moved in together three weeks ago. The first two weeks were bliss, but now a heavy storm cloud has settled over their home. Buck thinks about the honeymoon phase everyone was warning him about and he aches to go back to it. He remembers when he used to think Tommy had never done anything wrong and if he had, there were perfectly reasonable explanations for it. But now he’s seeing him in more varied colors than just rose-tinted ones. And he’s realizing Tommy is having the same revelation. They're more themselves, more adult, messier and complicated. And Buck’s terrified.

But he’s also pissed.

“Can you fucking believe he yelled at me for something so petty?” Buck had said, pacing around Eddie’s living room, “It’s like he wasn’t even listening to me.”

“Well, didn’t you also yell at him?”

“Who’s side are you on?”

A small, petty part of him was smug about getting to Eddie before Tommy did. The last few fights they had, Tommy had been the one to storm out and seek solace in the Diaz home. This time, Buck ran before Tommy had the chance. He had been happy to share his side of the story and Eddie was a kind enough friend to realize Buck needed to vent his very biased account of things, nodding along and giving support where it was needed.

Then came the beers. Then the bars. Then Buck spotted those rainbow flags in the window while stumbling along the sidewalk and told Eddie that if he was a good ally, he would follow him in and let him blow off some steam.

Except now, he’s kind of running out of steam. He misses his boyfriend and the guilt of raising his voice is starting to dampen his mood. He feels regret souring on his tongue and it’s diluting all the endorphins that were released from doing shots with Drag Queens earlier in the night.

Eddie’s still going strong though. His hair is kind of messy, glitter decorating his pink cheeks, a goofy smile plastered across his face. He lost the button up he started the night with so now he’s rocking a white tank top that shows off his arms nicely. Needless to say he’s getting a lot of attention- attention that he’s either ignoring or oblivious to.

“Dude, dude, why don’t we come here more often? Why do we go to the sad bar for straight people when we could come here instead? Everyone’s so nice!” Eddie is starting to shout in his ear a little bit.

“You can just come here on your own, you know,” Buck suggests.

Eddie shakes his head, “I don’t wanna… um-” he cuts off, snapping his fingers, “intrude! I don’t wanna intrude. Do you think if I ask Josh, he’d take me? He talks about feeling weird coming to bars alone all the time! OH!” Eddie gasps, like he’s had a great idea, “Should I text Josh? He could come down here, it’d be great!”

Eddie starts to take his phone out before Buck stops him, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Eds.”

Eddie waves him off before the song changes and suddenly he’s disappearing back into the crowd of swaying bodies. Buck should probably try to keep an eye on him but he’s busy silently mourning the quiet night in with his boyfriend he was going to have. Then he starts to mourn the night he wanted to spend distracting himself from his own grievances with said boyfriend, trying to drown out the voice telling him how badly he fucked things up. Now, he’s playing babysitter to giddy-drunk Eddie.

“Don’t you look lonely.” Suddenly there’s a body pushing against his side and alcohol-ridden breath wafting over his ear.

He reels back, cringing at the close proximity. He huffs and takes another sip of his beer.

“Oh, what, you’re gonna give me the cold shoulder?” The guy moves closer again. “Come on, what’s got you so down?”

He ignores him again, trying to turn his body away. The guy slides a hand against his side and fingers the hem of his shirt. Buck shoves him off.

“Fuck off,” Buck growls, and then for good measure, “I’ve got a boyfriend.” Who he misses. God, he wishes Tommy was here.

“Well, I don’t see him anywhere. Must not be a very good boyfriend, then.”

Buck starts to get defensive, opening his mouth to speak, before the words jumble in his throat. It’s a little hard to think coherently, but what comes to mind are images of Tommy making him dinner after a long shift, scrubbing his hands through his soapy hair in the shower, kissing his birthmark before bed every night. He’s not sure how to articulate it, all the feelings rising in his throat at the claim that Tommy isn’t a good boyfriend, a good partner, a good person.

“Buck! Buck, listen, man, you gotta try this drink- oh, who’s this?”

The guy scoffs as Eddie suddenly reappears from God knows where, “Really? This guy?” He points at Eddie.

Eddie looks behind him wildly, “Who?”

Buck thinks briefly about drowning himself in one of the bar toilets. Then decides he’d be getting out of this too easy, and this is probably karma for ruining the great thing he had going with Tommy.

“So you’re his boyfriend?” The guy is now directly talking to Eddie.

There are several looks that pass over Eddie’s face. He looks like he’s solving a puzzle for a second then there’s a little twinkle in his eye and then he straightens his back with determination and pride, “Yep!”

Buck chokes on his own spit, “What?”

“Hey, I’m Tommy, Buck- no, Evan’s boyfriend.” He looks immensely proud of himself, “So, bye. He’s taken. By me, Tommy, I’m a great pilot and subpar at Muay Thai. So leave us alone.”

The guy apparently has decided to double down on being an ass, though, “Really, you could do so much better.” He’s turned back to Buck now. “Why would you ever choose to be with a guy who can’t hold his beer and makes an idiot of himself in public?”

“He’s not an idiot!” Buck throws his hands in the air. He’s not sure if he’s defending Tommy or Eddie here, but they’re kind of blurring into one person right now.

“What do you have going for you anyways, bro? I’m a pilot!” Eddie decides to puff his chest out a little now, shoving his hands in his front pockets. Buck realizes he’s trying to mimic Tommy’s mannerisms, much to his own horror. Now is probably not a good time to mention that this guy doesn’t actually know what Tommy looks like, therefore he doesn’t actually need to pretend to be Tommy. But his heart clenches at how hard Eddie’s trying anyways. “A firefighter-pilot!” Eddie continues, “Those are like two of the hottest professions you can have. I also do Muay Thai, although not as good as my amazing friend, Eddie, but still very good.”

“Wow, self-obsessed much?” The guy tries to touch Buck’s arm, “Come on, don’t you wanna ditch him? Do you really think this guy is gonna give you what you need?”

“What do you know about what he needs? I’ll have you know that we live together, actually!” Eddie is starting to shout again, “It’s going great. Or well, it is, isn’t it?” He turns to Buck.

“What?”

“It is going great, right? Like we’re still happy, aren’t we?”

Buck thinks of Tommy at home right now, sitting on the sofa in his stupid, sexy reading glasses. He’s probably still fuming from the fight. Buck pictures him biting his nails, a habit he’s tried to kick. He whines a little in the back of his throat at the thought of being his point of stress. His bones ache to curl up in bed, head tucked into Tommy’s shoulder, feeling Tommy’s arm gently graze over his spine. He thinks about moving around the kitchen with him, seamlessly in tune with his every move. He thinks about coming up behind him and pulling Tommy back’s flush against his chest and kissing his hairline.

“Yeah, of course, we’re still happy.”

“Do you really have to ask?” The guy asks smugly, quirking an eyebrow.

Eddie’s still looking at him though, eyes searching, “I worry about that sometimes, you know? Like,” he breathes and makes a decision, “sometimes I’ll talk to our friend, Eddie. And I’ll tell him how much I love you, but how scared I am that I don’t make you happy enough. And it doesn’t matter how many times I-or Eddie tells me that you’re the happiest you’ve ever been, I’m scared you’re gonna wake up and realize there’s something else out there for you. At least, that’s what I tell Eddie. And I swore him to secrecy too, I made him promise not to mention that to you because I don't want you to think I’m a burden or anything. And because Eddie is such a good friend, he promised he wouldn’t say anything but I think now Eddie is getting tired of watching us both think the other one could do better. That’s how Eddie feels. Cause we’re both great, you know. Best friends he’s ever had.”

“Is that how uh- you really feel?” Buck asks, “You think I’m gonna find something better?”

Eddie nods, lips pursed, “Well, it's not like- I don't think you're gonna just walk out with some fuck-face you meet at a bar,” he gestures to the guy still standing there confused, “but I think I’m more worried you’re going to realize I’m not what you want. That it's too hard, I guess. And we've been fighting more and more recently and it's really getting to me, man.”

“I just feel like you keep shutting me out, though. It's not the little things that get to me, it's the fact that every time I try to talk to you about it, you just shut down.”

“Okay, I get that. But I think if I had to say why I do that, it's because I’m scared that if we really start to talk about it, you’ll come to the conclusion that you won't want to put up with me.”

“Tommy, I’m trying to build a life together, I’m in this, all the way. And don't you think I’m scared, too? It's like you’re not listening to what I’m telling you.”

“You talk about how you don't feel listened to, but it’s never really clear what you’re saying,” Eddie throws his hands up and clears his throat awkwardly, “I think.”

Buck stops to consider that. He’s tried to tell Tommy how he feels, how scared he is he’s gonna fuck it up. He still feels like he’s a guest in Tommy’s home, not because of anything Tommy’s done per say. He thinks maybe he’s still trying to walk on eggshells, not make too many waves. So he beats around the bush. He points out Tommy’s shoes in the doorway when he’s made a point to put his own in the closet, clearing his throat when he picks them up and puts them away. Tommy glances at him and hums, looking away.

It always made Buck feel like Tommy’s just tolerating him- putting up with his “clipboard” tendencies.

“Okay, I guess you have a point. I’m not actually that mad that you leave your shoes wherever you take them off, or how you leave dirty clothes on the bathroom floor, or that you always make the bed too tight. Like, I don't care about those things. I just- fuck, I don't know. It feels like it's still your house, and I’m still living out of a few drawers and an overnight bag.”

Eddie furrows his eyebrows, “Do I make you feel that way?”

Buck sighs, “Not on purpose, I don't think. I think it's just a lot of other bad experiences with living with people I’ve dated and yeah, maybe, it feels like you keep erasing the mark I’m trying to leave. I keep trying to get you to put your shoes in the closet, and you just won't.”

“I thought you said you weren't really mad about that.” Eddie seems like he’s having a hard time following their relationship lore.

“It's not that. It's more that all of the little things I’m trying to do to make it feel like ours, you’re just not having.”

“Have you ever told me that? Like in those words? Cause from where I’m standing, I think I’m just trying to give you your space and stay close to mine.”

“I don't just want my space and then your space, I want our space. I want to have things we do together, systems we can agree on. Not just because it annoys me when you don't follow my rules, Tommy. I don't want you to feel trapped with me.”

“Well, I don't want you to feel suffocated. That's what I told Eddie.”

Buck breathes in a small sob. He’s always been an emotional drunk.

“I love you, all of you. Even your messiness. I just want to feel like you're in this too. I’ve had a lot of shitty relationships where I'm the only one putting anything into it. And you’ve always felt different. Like I could actually get attached to you. And it feels like you're pulling back.” Buck sinks in on himself, heart breaking at the idea that Tommy’s falling farther away.

Eddie looks pained, but enlightened, “I think I’m pulling back because I don't want to pressure you. I think I’m really, really into you, dude. And it's scary to put so much of yourself on the line. I think I’m afraid I was putting too much of myself into this, and you're gonna get exhausted.”

“Exhausted with what?”

“With how much I love you. With how amazing I think you are. With how I think I’ve decided I wanna spend the rest of my life with you.” Eddie finishes.

“Okay, what the fuck does all that mean?” The guy is still just standing beside them.

“Bro, go away.”

“Like why are you even still here?”

The guy walks away, muttering something about them being exhausting and a waste of his time.

“He’s said all to you?” Buck ducks his head, not wanting to look Eddie in the eye.

“Some of it, yeah,” Eddie nods, wrinkling his forehead, “The feeling like you're too much of a good thing, wanting to spend the rest of his life with you, generally feeling like shit whenever you fight, yeah, we talked about all that.” He hiccups, “Some of it I improvised. I know both of you pretty well by now, and I’m tired of constantly going back and forth between you whenever you fight. Especially when you're saying the same thing. Do you know how frustrating that is?”

Buck waits for him to elaborate. Eddie rolls his eyes. “You guys are committed. It's just that you're both being really, really stupid about it. And living with another person is hard, especially when you’re trying so hard to keep so much of yourself in. You’ve got to open up a little, man. And so does he, but I think the first thing you gotta do is talk.”

“Hm. I should probably go home.” His head is starting to hurt and he feels like throwing up or passing out or crying, and he doesn't want to do any of those things outside of the comfort of his own home.

His and Tommy’s own home.

Eddie's eyes light up again and Buck had the exact same thought at the exact same time, “Uber!”

Eddie falls dead asleep on the ride to Buck and Tommy’s house. When they arrive, Buck profusely apologizes to the Uber driver for all the snoring and retching.

Eddie leans against his shoulder as they walk up to the door. Buck notices a wreath that wasn't there before and remembers talking about decorating the house for the holidays early. Tommy hadn't been completely sold on the idea at the time but there it was, displayed on their front door. It felt like a peace offering in of itself.

He fumbled with his key and accidently locked the already unlocked door, which Eddie laughed at for the full minute it took him to realize and then unlock the door again.

“Shhh. He’s probably asleep.”

“Evan?”

“Oh shit.” Then Eddie falls on the floor somehow. Buck isn’t really paying attention to whatever Eddie’s issues with gravity are. The moment he sees Tommy standing in the hallway in his sleeveless red top and sweats, he bolts and throws his arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry.” Buck mumbles into his neck.

Tommy sighs and hugs back, “I know, baby. I’m sorry, too.”

Eddie stands back up, celebrates quietly to himself for a second, and then redirects his attention to Buck and Tommy, “Hey, Tommy.” He waves politely.

“Hey, Eddie.”

“I don’t wanna be Buck’s boyfriend anymore. You can have him back. You’re both so complicated. Josh wouldn’t be so complicated.” Eddie starts mumbling to himself, swaying back and forth on his feet while fiddling with the leaves on the plant they have in their entrance.

Tommy seems to take a second process of what he just said and is doing mental gymnastics to decipher it, “What?”

“There was this guy, right? And he was kind of an asshole about it. So I pretended to be you, so he would leave Buck alone.”

Buck feels Tommy’s chest rise with jealousy, “A guy was messing with you?” Buck is man enough to admit that the heat in his voice does something for him.

“Mostly just being annoying.” Buck shrugs, arms still tied around Tommy’s neck.

“Hey, don’t worry. I defended his honor.” Eddie pounds a fist to his chest and then stumbles over to the couch.

Tommy worms his way out of Buck’s grip so he can close and lock the door and then turns back, “So, we’re good, then?”

Buck smiles, shoulder’s rising to his ears, laughing a little. He’s back to feeling giddy, a rush of love flooding through his chest, “Yeah, we’re gonna be great, Tommy, I promise.”

Tommy smiles and gravitates back to him, slipping an arm around his waist and kissing his collar bone.

“No funny business while I’m still here.” Eddie turns over on his side, tugging the throw blanket off the back of the couch.

“We gotta talk, though.” Buck traces a finger down Tommy’s chin, parking it in the little divot that used to taunt him. He has a cleft, Buck giggles again.

“About what?” Tommy goes still. His arm freezes up and the soft, gooey feeling in Buck’s chest gets a little chillier.

“I know about your annoying habits and you know about mine. We need to talk about ‘em to move past ‘em”

“And what if when we talk about it, we can’t find a way to move past it.” Tommy says quietly. For a second, Buck feels like he’s looking at himself. The facade of confidence cracks and suddenly there’s a lonely boy in a cold, empty house that starts to leak through. Buck’s chest hurts thinking about little Tommy. He was lonely and afraid. Buck remembers that feeling like a ghost whispering up his spine and he hates it. He hates that he ever thought this wasn’t something he could have. He hates that Tommy thought he’d be lonely and afraid forever. He hates that they both did.

He hates that Tommy feels like that right, standing in their home, in each other’s arms, where it should be safe from old wounds and lingering ghosts.

“Hey,” Buck’s finger on Tommy’s chin tightens and he brings his thumb up to force eye contact, “Don’t do that, please.”

Tommy shudders.

“Tommy, I’m gonna spend the rest of my life with you and you,” Buck grabs Tommy’s face with both hands, “Tommy, you are my forever love, okay? Your bad habits are not going to get in the way of that. You’re not getting rid of me any time soon.”

“Forever love, huh?” Tommy muses.

“If you let me, I wanna be your forever,” Buck places his index finger on Tommy’s lip, swiping. He wants to reach forward and never let go.

“Gladly,” Tommy leans over to bridge the gap, connecting their lips. They kiss for what feels like an eternity, with Eddie's snores as background music. Tommy slides an arm around Buck's waist and gently guides him to their bed.

Tommy kisses his birthmark and covers him with their warm cotton sheets they had picked out together. The bed is still too tight but he’ll tell him in the morning. They’ll talk, fight a little more, cry, and make up. They’ll fight for it, even when things get hard.

They fall asleep wrapped gently in love. Forever love.

#3000 feels like a lot for a tumblr post but ehhh i want it here too #bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard

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aashiqeddiediaz · 2 years ago

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EVAN ‘BRAT’ BUCKLEY + eddie ‘don’t make me put you in your place’ diaz

(or, this is only part one because he really, really is a brat.)

[Image ID: ten small gifs of Evan Buckley and Eddie Diaz from multiple episodes of 9-1-1. They are organized by Buck's dialogue on the left, and Eddie's response on the right.:

ROW 1: From 2x01, Buck laughs humorlessly and shifts on his feet as he asks Eddie, "Why would I be threatened by you?". Eddie laughs quietly to himself before looking back up at Buck, saying, "Exactly. There's no need to be."

ROW 2: From 3x08, Buck handing his report to Bobby, looking smug and cocky as he says, "I bumped up the numbers, got fancy with the math." Eddie stops to peer at the report, shaking his head at Buck as he says, "You don't know math."

ROW 3: From 4x06, Buck looking up at where the bell's going off before they can eat, pointedly telling Eddie, "Yeah, definitely not jinxed." Eddie's gaze drifts from the ceiling back to Buck, his jaw working for a moment.

ROW 4: From 4x06, Buck sitting with a book in hand, head propped on two fingers as he peers up at Eddie curiously and asks, "Eddie, what would you say Ana's love language is?" Eddie holding out his hands, looking betrayed as he says, "Traitor."

ROW 5: From 6x17, Buck gleefully saying, "Okay, so that's what it is. You-you suck at [dating]." Eddie turns to look at him, frowning slightly at the words.

/end ID]

bonus:

(or, eddie can be a brat, too.)

[BONUS GIFs: From 4x10, Eddie looking at the picture of Jee-Yun, and pointing towards it with a creased, confused expression as he says, "Sure that's a smile? That's the same face Buck makes when he's gassy." Buck looks slightly appalled as he tilts his head at Eddie, then says, "I will take that as a compliment, 'cause it just means she looks like her Uncle Buck." /end ID]

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watchyourbuck · 1 year ago

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I really wanted to NOT analyze this scene bc it’s been done so many times but I’m a public menace, so

Buck and Eddie and Chris are at Buck’s loft, after a mission and a less than pleasant conversation w Bobby, and here are my thoughts:

We see Buck (who’s upset), cooking for Chris and Eddie, when — in the whole arc —, we never see him cook for Taylor (or Ali, or really, anyone else but the 118).

Recently therapied™️ Eddie doesn’t give a flying fuck about being interim captain, but has enough eyes to see Buck does. His voice softens, and he gives him foot to discuss his own feelings without hiding them bc Eddie doesn’t share them. (Bonus points bc he makes the same face he made after the lawsuit, in THE Kitchen Scene, when he tells Buck ‘not to beat himself up about it.’).

“Lucy is great– whatever-,” Buck says absentmindedly, and we get a glimpse of Eddie’s smug little face. It kind of implies he knows about the kiss, but opts to say nothing. He did, in fact, cheat on Taylor (and Chris is in the room). But the grin falls a little. Maybe he’s not so nonchalant about it, after all. Or maybe, he knows they (she and Buck) never stood a chance. He looks – relieved, almost.

Eddie feels comfortable enough to keep actually playing with his kid. Enough to win, actually. He doesn’t feel that comfortable at his parent’s house (5x17).

Buck keeps talking about this, and even if he acts like he doesn’t care (and Eddie has dealt with that sarcastic-coping-mechanism-tone Buck does one too many times), he’s visibly angry, so Eddie changes the subject. “What are you offering?”

“Right now? Bobby’s famous lasagna.” Okay, this doesn’t scream ‘I’m cooking you my family recipes’ to anyone else?

Then we have The Diaz’ compliments, which not only sound genuine, but make Buck grin. Like he did something right. Besides, it took him ‘three tries to get it right.’ Interesting, when other in the show has Buck not given up immediately after something doesn’t go his way? Surely, this had to be something he was very keen on achieving, cuz he barely cooks for himself.

Chris’ little ‘you don’t even have a couch’ is very funny to me. Because he’s a kid and he’s joking, or being smart. But Chris isn’t my focus here, it’s Eddie’s reaction. We do know kids absorb what their parents feel and say, right? Eddie laughs, so he must think alike. He looks almost drunk — all flushed cheeks, big smile, squinted eyes.

“My last two couches came with girlfriends” and the IMMEDIATE correction Eddie makes. We know Buck is at his most comfortable with the Diaz boys, so we know he’s not putting on a show. What he says – he means. Of the heart speaks the mouth. That’s how he feels about his past relationships, not the correction Eddie makes. (And if you may let me be annoying here, it’s kinda interesting, the correction. It sounds almost – hopeful. Eddie knows it’s supposed to be the way he corrects him to be, but in a way, he corrects him just to guarantee himself that that’s not what Buck meant ((and it’s not.)).

The way that Buck stops, stares and then plunges down on the chair. ‘Right,’ he thinks, ‘the girlfriends came with couches.’ Again, NOT his initial thought. He hides behind a grin.

Eddie is not careful mentioning Taylor. Buck isn’t heartbroken. He even mentions her in Chris’ presence, and we know by history they’ve always been careful. (If you ask me, that’s the reason they didn’t hook up after the ‘you wanna go for the title?’ scene).

“Maybe I don’t wanna pick the wrong couch again.” Please stay here for a second. In all objectivity we’re talking about furniture…, right? This is a three-street conversation, because Chris added himself to it, yet Buck won’t look at him. He looks at Eddie, very intently. As if… as if he’s saying something different with his words. Huh, whatever could he mean? (Faint whispers of: ‘your couch, you, I wanna pick you, I wanna pick you, pick me, too.’) And then Eddie, who is Oblivious Firefighter of the Year (awarded) brings the conversation down again to the actual topic, and Buck deflates, like his balloon has been popped. His eyes literally stop glimmering.

So, is this a conversation two best friends who are comfortable in that title would have?

#yall tell me #if I’m off I’m off #but I don’t think I’m off #buddie #911 fox #911 #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 tv show #evan buck buckley #buck x eddie #buck and eddie #911 abc #911 on abc #911 buddie #buddie 911

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keepingmyoptionsfluid · 11 months ago

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"ok... So what did you do after he kissed you?" Hen asked

"He kissed me, then I panicked and called you," Buck replied

"Hang on a second, Buck. You're telling me that you and Eddie had a public argument over breakfast cereal for Chris, and then made out in the middle of the grocery store?"

"...yes,"

"and what is Eddie doing now?"

Buck looked up to see Eddie raise an eyebrow at him.

"he's leaning against the cereals I was trying to pick up, blocking me from reaching them, and he's uh... he's looking pretty smug,"

"uh huh. And you called me asking what you should do?"

"uhh... Yeah. That just about sums it up."

"well Buck. I think you should probably go ahead and marry him while I'm still going to win the bet on when you'll get together. Do it in the next two weeks and I'll spend half the prize money on your wedding present. I reckon a batch of Le Creuset pots and pans should be about right with the amount I've got riding on this."

BUCK, talking about EDDIE: WHAT THE FUCK I WAS ARGUING WITH HIM AND I SAID “OOH YOU WANNA KISS ME SO BAD” AND GUESS WHAT? HE DID. HE KISSED ME. WHAT THE FUCK WHAT DO I DO.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 abc #911 fox #evan buck buckley #look i was bored and scrolling in tumblr before bed #i just had such a vivid mental image of a smug eddie watchng buck fully panic and foeget he was even there

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magniloquent-raven · 4 months ago

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I'm getting distracted from my current projects by someone else's post again someone tell me to stop going on tumblr while I have WIPs lmfao

@rosetterer this isn't EXACTLY what you posted about but it does get there in the end

Twenty-four hours has never seemed like such an insurmountably long time.

Buck's had long shifts before, the boring ones when he'd stare at the alarms on the wall, willing them to go off—he can picture Maddie's disappointed scowl if she ever found out about that, but he swears he was only hoping for something small and harmless to break up the monotony—and the busy ones. Ones that leave his ears ringing with phantom sirens by the end. Those days only ever seem long in retrospect, when he's bone-tired and trying to remember all the names he asked for.

But now every shift seems to find new and shittier ways to be gruelling. Eddie's miserable and trying to act like he isn't. There's this weird, uncomfortable tension brewing between Hen and Chim. Ravi got himself transferred to B shift—probably to get away from Gerrard, and Buck can't exactly blame him, but he sort of does anyway and their new probie is terrible, and... then there's Gerrard.

Like, Buck already knew he was a piece of work, but. Knowing and experiencing are two very different things. He could barely stand keeping his mouth shut at the medal ceremony when he met the man for five seconds, and now he has to put up with him making smug, belittling comments towards all his friends, all the time. Constantly needing to remind himself he doesn't want to get fired is actually killing him.

It doesn't help that every so often he'll remember Tommy's offhand Captain Gerrard was like having the dad I already had, with a pang as he wonders what exactly Tommy grew up with. What parts of Gerrard's condescending tyranny were familiar to him. Phillip Buckley may not have been father of the year, but maybe never being looked directly at was better than being raised neck deep in toxic waste.

Every time he remembers he gets the urge to pull out his phone and call Tommy up just to... he doesn't even know. Just to hear his voice, maybe. Know if he's doing okay.

Another reason work days seem so long now, if he's being honest. He's always counting down the hours until he can see Tommy again. Like a kid on the last day of school, watching the clock tick closer and closer to summer vacation.

So, of course, right near the end of a particularly busy shift, Gerrard gets them all lined up for a lecture about how sloppy that last save was. Everyone did something wrong, and everyone needs to hear about all the ways they could have gotten someone killed, like they don't all know how risky the job is already.

By the time he's finished telling Chim it's a miracle he managed to convince anyone to let him out on calls, Buck is clenching his jaw hard enough to make his teeth ache.

"I'm sure Captain Soft-Touch loved telling you all it was okay to be mediocre, and that you were trying your best," Gerrard sneers at them all, waving a dismissive hand at very idea of Bobby's captaincy. "But the coddling ended when he retired. Sparing your feelings is going to get people killed. Diaz!" He shouts, abrupt, turning on his heel towards Eddie. Eddie doesn't flinch, but Buck does.

"Yes, sir?" He's coolly polite, and his face is carefully blank, but his posture is tense.

"If I ever catch you checking your phone at a scene again, I'll make sure you're mopping floors for the rest of your life."

Eddie's expression hardens. It was a fender-bender and Eddie didn't even touch his phone until everyone was accounted for and packed into the ambulance. "It was a text from my son. Sir." His tone veers a little to the left of polite.

"I don't care if it was from the goddamn Pope, when you're in the field your focus stays on scene. Next time your brat needs something tell him to go cry to his mother about it."

This time when Buck flinches, everyone else in line does too. Hen bites down on a grimace. Chim hisses quietly through his teeth.

"I can't do that," Eddie says flatly. "What with her being dead and all."

The firehouse is silent for a long, horrible moment. That might've taken the wind out of any decent person's sails, Buck thinks. At the very least most people would've retreated into awkwardness and ended the lecture entirely.

Gerrard's brow pinches angrily. "Don't get smart with me, Diaz."

Buck's not sure it's possible to hate someone more than he hates their new captain right now.

"I don't care about your little sob story excuses, I care that you're sloppy and distracted. If you can't handle the job and the kid, drop one of them."

Oh, he was wrong.

He hates this man so much he's choking on it, it's clogging his throat like bile and he's running out of strength to care that he shouldn't spit it out, spew it everywhere and ruin everything just for the chance of hurting this man in the process. He feels like his skin is bursting at the seams.

Eddie's biting the inside of his cheek, rage and sorrow warring silently on his face.

And Buck breaks. Bursts. "Hey, Captain, that's—"

"Can it, Buckley," Gerrard cuts him off before he can even start. It's not angry, it's not anything, he brushes Buck off like he's an annoying fly buzzing in his ear, barely worth glancing at for the two seconds it takes to tell him he doesn't care. "You're all dismissed. Get out of my sight."

Some of them flee, scurrying to their lockers, the kitchen, anywhere but here. A couple of people throw backwards glances before they walk away. Hen and Chim exchange grim looks. Eddie disappears out the back door in an angry haze. And Buck...

Buck feels. Empty. Small. Like he cut himself open trying to relieve the pressure and now there's just nothing left. No one to patch up the wound, and no reason for any of it, he didn't make an impact, he didn't help anyone, he stood there listening to his friends get degraded, and now—now he's feeling sorry for himself?

It's stupid. He's stupid. He feels like shit because, what, because he didn't get yelled at? Because his piece of shit captain took a break from implying he's a disgusting pervert?

He thinks himself in circles about it his whole way home, the pit in his stomach getting a little deeper every time he tries to will it away.

He's wallowed himself halfway through a six-pack, staring sightlessly at his TV, by the time his front door opens.

"Evan?"

One of the knots in his chest loosens. "Yeah," he calls out, not bothering to sound less pathetic than he is. "In here."

"Hey." Tommy's stopped next to the stairs, eyeing him. His gaze is assessing, but his tone is soft. He's always so careful with Buck. "Bad day?"

Buck takes another sip of his beer. Shrugs.

"Ah, one of those."

The couch cushions dip as Tommy takes a seat next to him. He's close enough that Buck doesn't have to look at him to know he's there. There's warmth radiating off him. The woodsy scent of his aftershave. Buck presses their knees together, and exhales properly for the first time in hours.

He knows he could talk about whatever he wants and Tommy would let him. He's waiting for Buck to take the lead here. Buck could avoid the issue entirely and decide to talk about anything. The fact that he can't really tell the difference between the fancy beer Tommy insists is better than the crap Buck's drinking right now. The documentary about bees he's pretending to watch. The goddamn weather.

What comes out of his mouth is a quiet, "I feel like an idiot."

Tommy pulls the beer bottle out of Buck's loose grip, puts it down next to the couch, and then takes Buck's hand in both of his. "Why?"

Buck scrubs at his eyes. "I..." He catalogues the tiny scars on Tommy's knuckles. Two, three, little dots on his index finger. A lopsided vee on his thumb. "Something happened at work."

"Did Gerrard say something to you?" There's an edge to Tommy's question, something sharp and flinty. It makes Buck's heart do dumb little somersaults.

"No." He stops, shame burning his cheeks. "Not. Not to me. That's... He was lecturing everybody, and I..."

"Evan." Tommy grips his chin, firmly, gently, guiding Buck's face until he looks him in the eye. There's a sympathetic twist to his mouth. "Tell me."

He does. As best he can when it feels like what's didn't happen is more important, and he can barely put into words why that is. But trying helps, a little. Trying to whittle it down into an explanation forces him to look at the whole of it, and realize it's not looming over him anymore.

Maybe it's just Tommy's hands on him, soothing the hurt away.

"I dunno. Feels like I could have done something differently, maybe"

Tommy hums, tilting his head in acknowledgement. "You could've."

Buck winces.

"But it wouldn't have turned out any better."

Oh.

A flower blooms on the TV, purple and white petals reaching for the sun. Buck toys with Tommy's fingers, and shifts his leg closer, hooking their ankles together.

"It felt so shitty," he mutters.

"I know."

He would, wouldn't he. Buck gets that pang in his chest again, and he pushes the rest of the way into Tommy's space. Tommy wraps his arms around him, and drops a kiss into his curls, seemingly content to let Buck situate himself however he wants.

He kind of wishes Tommy wasn't still wearing jeans, but asking him to take his pants off might send the wrong message.

"You don't think I'm, like...a bad friend, right?" He cringes his way through the question.

"No." Tommy responds matter-of-factly and without hesitation. Then the corner of his mouth twitches. "I think you're a very good boy."

Buck's entire head feels like it's on fire. A grin starts to creep across his face. It might be the first time he's smiled all day. "Oh, yeah?"

"Mhm."

Maybe he should ask Tommy to take his jeans off after all.

#911 abc #911 show #bucktommy #bucktommy fic #dailykinley #evan buckley #a raven's writing desk #this got away from me a little bit

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achilles-rage · 1 month ago

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achilles-rage’s twelve days of christmas

day seven: santa tell me (ft. eddie diaz)

summary: bringing your best-friend-turned-fake-boyfriend eddie to your work christmas party to prove a point after a coworker says something rude to you.

word count: 3.1k

series masterlist

a/n: so sorry to all the debra’s out there, i didn’t mean it<3 i love the idea of this so much, so i hope i did it justice!! enjoy<3

warnings: alluding to body shaming from coworker, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

You try to be the person at work that everyone likes. You never start arguments with anyone, you listen to everyone’s ideas, and if someone does disagree with you, you try to talk it out calmly.

All that aside, there’s one woman at work that you just can’t fucking stand.

Debra started working with you a few months ago, and despite your best efforts, she still tried to put you down every single change she got. Even her name is annoying. Debra.

Today is like most others when you’re working together, and it’s been extra infuriating because she keeps going on and on about her new hot, rich boyfriend.

“Are you gonna be at the Christmas party on Thursday night?” Debra asks as you walk into the break room. You look between her and Matteo; another one of your coworkers, before putting on a fake smile.

“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it.” Debra nods, then directs her attention to you as you refill your coffee mug, her body now angled towards you instead of Matteo.

“I was just telling Matteo that my boyfriend is gonna be there. You’ll all finally get to meet him. He’s so excited to meet all my friends.” she beams, and you hum softly, nodding. With your back turned toward the coffee maker, you roll your eyes, but before you turn back to look at Debra and Matteo, you put your fake smile back on.

“That’s great. I’m happy for you.” you tell her, and you sort of mean it. Sure, she’s a complete nightmare, but she doesn’t deserve to be alone, you guess.

Apparently, you let your dislike for her slip, just for a moment, because after your words hit her ears, she smiles fakely. Her eyes trail down your body slowly, then dart back up to meet your gaze, and she tilts her head to the side.

“Don’t worry. You’ll find someone,” another trail down your body, “someday.”

Your smile drops from your face, and you blink slowly as you take in her words. You’re not sure what to say. You’re not even sure that she actually just fucking said that.

You don’t dare break eye contact, and when you see the quirk of her eyebrow, you can tell that she’s begging you to react.

“Thanks, Debra. That’s sweet of you.” is all you say before you turn on your heel, walking quickly out of the breakroom and back to your desk.

Poor Matteo, he has no idea what to do. He just looks at Debra, giving her a quick smile as he excuses himself back to his desk.

You sit down at your desk with a loud huff. The fucking nerve of her, you think, and it’s not even like you can prove her wrong. You’re painfully single.

It’s not from your lack of trying either, it’s just that apparently the men you choose to give your time to don’t care.

“And then she said, ‘you’ll find someone, someday.’” you practically yell, throwing your hands up in anger. Eddie scowls, his eyes narrowing at your words.

You’ve been friends with Eddie for years, and he’s always the person you go to with your problems. He’s a great listener, and sometimes he actually gives you good advice.

“Are you serious?” he says in disbelief. The furrow of his brows gets deeper when you confirm what she said, and he scoffs, rolling his eyes.

He’s not even sure what to say. You’re perfect; that’s the only word he can think of to describe you most accurately. Of course there’s other words; pretty, sweet, smart, kind, but perfect does a better job at describing just how good you are.

“And now I get to see her stupid smug face all night on Thursday when I show up without a date. Wonder if I can hire someone off craigslist.” you say with a sigh, your tone turning slightly joking.

He’s silent for a moment, leaning back on his couch and taking a sip of his beer as he thinks it over.

“I’ll be your date.” he says after a moment, not even looking at you. He stares straight ahead of him, but he can see the way your eyes widen, and you look over at him with your jaw slack.

“What?” you say, butterflies filling your belly at the thought of him being your date. Of actually wanting to be your date.

You’ve always thought Eddie was attractive, but when you actually got to know him, it was impossible not to fall in love with him. You’re too afraid to actually tell him that, though. He’s your best friend. How awkward would it be if he didn’t feel the same? “I’ll be your fake date; pretend we’re dating. Get her to lay off you.” he says with a shrug, finally turning his head to look at you.

You swallow, nodding after a second with a small smile.

Right, a fake date.

“You’d do that?” you ask sheepishly. Even if the idea of it being a fake date makes your heart clench in your chest, a dull pain settling in your chest as you mull it over, you figure you can still pretend he likes you back. Just for one night.

“Of course. You’re my best friend.” Another stab to the chest.

You keep the smile on your face, nodding quickly.

“Thank you. You have no idea how much that’ll piss Debra off.” you say with a laugh, trying to numb the pain in your chest. You take a big swig of beer, then lean back further into the couch, as if wishing it would just suck you up and take away the gaping feeling in your chest.

It’s almost 7:00 when you get to Eddie’s house; it took you a while to decide on makeup and shoes, and now you’re running late.

You knock on his door hurriedly, shivering as the cool night air hits your bare legs. You take this time to look down at your outfit one more time, smoothing your hands over the dark green fabric of your dress and letting the small sparkles scrape across your skin.

Your head snaps up when the door opens in front of you, and your breath catches in your throat when you take in the sight of Eddie in his black suit. You notice that the tie he’s wearing is a similar colour to your dress, and you smile, finally realizing why he asked you what you were wearing a few days ago.

“Look at you all dressed up.” you say in a teasing tone, unable to come up with anything else.

Eddie doesn’t respond for a second, too busy trailing his eyes down your plush figure in your dress. He can see the gentle outline of your soft tummy, and the dip in the neckline makes him struggle to fight back a groan.

“You look beautiful,” he begins, finally looking into your eyes. “Debra’s gonna eat her words.” he tries to backtrack, hoping he didn’t just completely fuck himself over and expose his feelings for you.

“Thanks, but we actually have to get there for her to do that.” you tell him, urging him out the door.

“Let me grab my keys.” he murmurs, beginning to turn, but you’re quick to stop him.

“I’m already forcing you to be my date, you don’t have to drive too.” you say with a laugh. He shakes his head, waving you off quickly.

“I’ll drive. If I know you, you’ll need a few drinks to deal with her all night, anyway.” he teases, and you laugh, shrugging in agreement.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Thanks.”

On the way to your party, you come up with your relationship timeline, just in case Debra asks. Since he hadn’t met anyone at your work, you figure it would be better to not include that you were friends first. You don’t want to give her any sort of ammunition, and you can already hear her shrill voice in the breakroom tomorrow saying something about it taking a long time for someone to fall for you.

When you’re finally there, Eddie holds his arm out for you, and you loop your own through his, feeling butterflies in your tummy as he leads you through the front doors.

You’re surprised at how fancy the place is; surprised that your company actually bothered to spend any amount of money on a holiday party.

You both walk over to the bar, slowing down to say a quick greeting to some of your coworkers on the way. When you get there, he orders your drinks for you while you keep an eye out for Debra, trying desperately to ignore that when you took your arm from Eddie’s, he placed his hand on the small of your back.

You still haven’t seen her over a half hour later, but Eddie’s grip on you never holds up. If his arm isn’t looped with yours, his hand is on your back, or his arm is around your waist and his hand is on your hip, squeezing every now and then as you speak to various coworkers.

Everyone seems to love Eddie, too, which you’re not surprised about, but it still warms your heart nonetheless. You can’t wait for Debra to hear your coworkers talking about your handsome, firefighter boyfriend tomorrow.

Almost an hour later, you’re back at the bar for a refill, Eddie having switched to soda after his first drink. You’re taking a sip of your drink, standing in front of Eddie and practically between his legs as he leans his back against the bar, when he suddenly pulls you closer to him by your hips and begins to gently sway you both side to side.

“She’s here.” he whispers in your ear with a smile plastered onto his face; just in case Debra looks over and sees him.

Of course she shows up ‘fashionably late” to the party, you think, she just wants everyone to see her grand entrance.

He has no idea what Debra even looks like, but it’s not hard to realize that the woman who just walked in is definitely her. He can hear her shrill voice from his spot at the bar, and the way she looked around the crowd when she walked in made it clear to him that she was looking for everyone to notice her.

You almost choke on your drink when he pulls you to his chest, and one of your hands goes up to his shoulder, keeping yourself steady in your heels as he sways you back and forth in time with the music.

“What do I do?” you say, all the things you had thought about doing now in the wind when you actually need them.

“Just look pretty.” he whispers, then brings one hand up to the side of your neck. He leans in impossibly closer, and you feel goosebumps erupting on your skin as his hot breath hits your neck.

“She’s looking.” he says, letting out a soft chuckle to really play it up. You swallow, tilting your head back to laugh along with him, hoping she can see just how close he’s holding you.

You’re in luck, because a minute later, you hear her call your name. “You brought a date? I didn’t think you had one.” she says as you turn in Eddie’s grip and begin to walk toward her. Eddie follows you, keeping a hand firmly on your hip as he stands beside you. You give her a big, smug smile, tilting your head towards Eddie.

“Debra, this is my boyfriend. Eddie.” is all you say, looking over at him, as if making sure for one final time that he’s okay with this.

“Nice to meet you.” he says as he outstretches his hand. Debra laughs incredulously, but shakes his hand. You don’t miss how her eyes trail down his body, no doubt taking in his muscular form. Your smile widens at her clear disbelief, and the dull pain in your chest from knowing that this is completely fake fades at the satisfaction of rendering her speechless for once.

“Well, this is my boyfriend, Max. He’s a lawyer.” she finally says, grabbing the man’s arm and pulling him closer to her.

He’s attractive, you’ll admit, but he’s nothing compared to Eddie. He’s slightly taller, but not as muscular, and Eddie is much more handsome than him.

Max shakes your hand, and then Eddie’s, and then Debra speaks again.

“And, what is it you do?” she asks Eddie.

“I’m a firefighter-paramedic with the LAFD.” he tells her with a smirk, squeezing your hip a couple times. You lean into him, tilting your head up to look at him, and with your attention temporarily on Eddie, you don’t see that Debra does not like this act of PDA.

“How…noble.” she tells him, and you scoff under your breath, looking away for a moment before you finally snap back.

“He was in the army. Got a Silver Star for saving his troop mates from a helicopter crash.” you tell her. You try to keep your tone happy and relaxed, but Eddie can sense the edge in your voice. He leans in to whisper in your ear, using two of his fingers to tilt your chin up.

“How about you get us some new drinks?” he whispers. He has absolutely no problem playing this fucked-up game with Debra, and he can tell that you need a break already.

You nod with a small smile, then excuse yourself, walking back over to the bar while trying to keep your eye on Eddie.

You know he can hold his own, but you also know Debra. She has a special way of getting on your nerves and making you see red.

When you finally get your refills, you make your way back, but when you hear the conversation between Eddie and Debra, you stop in your place, listening intently.

“What do you mean?” Eddie asks, confusion and a hint of anger in his voice.

“I’m just saying that she didn’t tell anyone she was bringing a date. When I told her about Max, she didn’t say anything about you.” Debra replies, her voice calm and nonchalant, even though her brows were narrowed accusatorily.

“She’s a pretty private person. She doesn't like flaunting her personal life at work.” he replies, matching her tone. You can see the slight downturn of his lips from your spot, and butterflies fill your tummy as you think about him actually defending you.

Debra opens her mouth to respond, but before she can say a word, Eddie begins again, his voice getting slightly louder.

“I don’t know what’s so hard to believe about this. She’s gorgeous, and smart, and sweet, and a lot nicer than you seem to be. I’m lucky to be here with her.” he says sternly, and then he turns and walks away from Debra, intent on getting the last word in and stunning her to silence.

His eyes set on you as soon as he turns, and he closes the distance between you two, grabbing your hips quickly and pulling you against him. He rests his forehead against your chest, feeling white hot anger flooding his body at Debra’s insistence that you shouldn’t have a date.

He inhales your scent, your mere presence helping to slow his heartbeat, and his grip on your hips helping to ground him.

You tilt your head back, letting him rest against you for a minute as he calms himself down. You desperately want to run your fingers through his hair, but your frigid fingers gripping the two chilled glasses tightly stops you from doing so.

When he finally lifts his head and looks down at you, you tilt your head to the side, your anger for Debra now completely triumphed by your appreciation for Eddie.

“Did you mean it?” you whisper, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Mean what?” he asks, tilting his head the same way as yours. The urge to cup your cheek becomes too overwhelming for him to resist, and he raises his hand, running a thumb across your warm skin. He mustn’t have known you were listening, you think.

“All the stuff you said.” you clarify, your eyes searching his desperately.

He chuckles softly, his eyes softening at the timid way you speak.

“Of course I meant it. How could I not mean it?” he tells you, leaning his face down closer to yours.

You try to fight back the smile, but after a second, the smile erupts onto your face, brightening up your face and making your face scrunch up in joy.

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes dart down to his lips. It’s only for half of a second, but he catches it. Without thinking any further, he pushes his lips to yours, sighing into the kiss as he feels you melt into his arms.

The kiss starts off slow, like neither of you can believe this is finally happening, but it quickly becomes deeper and more passionate.

His hands move from your hips to your back, pulling you flush against him, and then he lifts one hand up to your jaw, tilting your head up into the kiss just that little bit more.

You’re so lost in the kiss that you don’t notice Debra watching with a scowl, no doubt pissed off that she was proven wrong. You finally have to force yourself away from him when his tongue tries to slip past your lips, still having half a mind to remember where you are.

“Should we get out of here? We probably shouldn’t be doing this here; I’m still technically at work.” you say in a teasing voice, beaming up at him as he rests his forehead against yours.

“I’ve been wanting to drag you out of here all night. If it were up to me, I would’ve taken you to bed as soon as I opened my front door and saw you in that dress.” he rasps, giving your nose a soft kiss.

“Yeah, you like it?” you whisper. Truthfully, you picked it out with him in mind. You secretly hoped that he’d love it as much as he seemed to.

“You have no idea.” he tells you earnestly, then grabs the drinks from your hands and sets them on a nearby table before taking your hand and drags you out to his car. You giggle the whole way, unable to believe what’s happening.

Who knew that fake dating for your work Christmas party would end in you having a real boyfriend?

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

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sky-is-the-limit · 2 months ago

Text

Buck sprawled across the couch, a smug grin on his face as Eddie set the popcorn on the table and sat down.

"Alright," Eddie said, eyeing him warily. "What did you pick this time?"

Buck’s grin widened. "You’ll see."

Eddie sighed, grabbing the remote. "It better not be another Sharknado situation."

Buck gasped in mock offense. "That was art. Trust me, you’ll like this one. It’s got drama, action and—"

"Dancing?" Eddie interrupted, squinting at the screen as the title appeared. He groaned. "Buck. Step Up All In?"

"Iconic. Plus, the main character is kinda hot." Buck said, completely unbothered.

Eddie sighed, setting the bowl on the table. "If this turns into a dance-off, I’m blaming you."

Buck smirked. "You’ve got the moves, Diaz. Don’t think I haven’t noticed."

"You’re insufferable." Shaking his head, Eddie pressed play anyway.

His smile only widened, settling back. "And yet, here you are."

#Buddie Dance AU when?#if you don't know the reference search up the main character in step up 4/5 #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buck x eddie #911 abc #ryan guzman #oliver stark

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once-upon-an-imagine · 1 year ago

Note

Saw you are taking 9-1-1 requests. Would you maybe write one with Eddie x reader where she is preparing some food for Christmas (maybe desserts to take to Bobby and Athena's) and she manages to cut herself. Eddie helping clean it and assess the damage before deciding she needs stitches. Buck comes over to hang out with Christopher. Maybe some fluffy cute stuff while they sit in the waiting room and then with the reader trying to walk Eddie through finishing the dessert when they get home because she can't really use her hand.

hello, love! this was so cute! sorry it's past Christmas but hope you're still in the Christmas spirit and like this little story 😊 Happy Holidays everyone! Warnings: reader gets cut and is scared of needles; I think that's it, this is also my first time writing for 9-1-1 and Eddie Diaz so, I hope you loves like it! I have a few more in my inbox Disclaimer: I don’t own 9-1-1 😊 gif isn’t mine 😁

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Christmas Cookies

“Would you please just let me help you?” Eddie asked for about the twentieth time.

“No, I’ve got it” you insisted. “Besides, you can go take care of our guest-”

“Buck is not our guest. He’s practically our other kid” Eddie laughed.

“I heard that!” you heard from the living room where Buck was playing video games with Christopher.

“I meant you to!” Eddie said, before looking back at you and smiling at you covered in powdered sugar. “What is that?” he asked as you put a tray of cookies in front of him.

“Chocolate Peppermint cookies” you shrugged. “They are Athena’s favorites” you explained. “For tonight's Christmas party?” you said, when you got no response.

“I thought you were making brownies” Eddie said confused.

“I am” you told him. “Chimney loves brownies” you continued.

“What else are you making?” he asked, leaning on the counter and looking at the endless amount of ingredients.

“Well, gingerbread cookies for Bobby, lemon bars for Maggie, Linzer cookies that Hen and Karen love” you smiled, pointing at the tupperware containing them. “And chocolate chip cookies with M&M’s” you said, grabbing one.

“Oh, yeah, those are Chris’ favorites” Eddie said, grabbing a few M&M’s.

“Yep… all the kids love them” you smiled.

“And…?”

“Buck and Al” you added.

“There it is” Eddie chuckled. “Sweetheart, you did not have to do this many desserts” he insisted. “Athena literally asked you to bring one dessert” he said.

“Don’t worry, I have your buñuelos too” you rolled your eyes.

“No, love, that’s not the point” he chuckled.

“Well, what was I supposed to do?”

“That? Just make one dessert” Eddie said as you started chopping some walnuts for the brownies.

“Yes, but if I make one dessert, I still have to make enough for everyone, so I thought it would be best to have a little bit of everything knowing that there’s something that everyone enjoys” you explained.

“Look, I know you’re the one who owns a small bakery-”

“Small?”

“Those are your words” he defended himself. “But I still think you are spoiling everyone by bringing a hundred desserts” he continued.

“It’s not a hundred” you said, looking back at him.

“Sweetheart, you’re overworking yourself-”

“I’m not-!”

“Yes, you are, I mean, you are making about ten different kinds of desserts, and none of them are even your favorite” he said, walking closer to you.

“I like all of these desserts!” you insisted.

“You are allergic to nuts, and you don’t like gingerbread cookies. Or Linzer cookies” he reminded you.

“Ugh, look if you’re just going to be all rational about this, and keep bugging me, why don’t you just go play video games with Buck and Chris in the other room?”

“Oh, I’m bugging you? You’re kicking me out of my kitchen?”

“Yes, Eddie, I am kicking you out of your kitchen because you’re distracting me, and you’re gonna make us late-” you stopped when you felt a sharp pain on your hand. Eddie’s smug smirk disappeared when he saw the expression on your face and you both looked at your hand. Your hand, which was now entirely red thanks to the spot you had just cut. “Shit” you muttered under your breath.

“Baby, are you okay?” Eddie asked, running over to you.

“Why is it bleeding so much?” you asked, getting a bit more anxious. You had cut yourself before at work, but it was never this big of a deal, usually a bandaid would cover it.

“Stay calm, okay?” he said, gently grabbing your hand. “Let me look at it” he said, walking you over to the sink.

“What happened?” Buck asked coming into the kitchen with Christopher on his back. “Whoa!”

“You’re bleeding a lot” Chris pointed out.

“Oh, honey, I’m sure it looks worse than it is- OUCH!” you complained as Eddie cleaned your wound.

“Sorry” he said, with a small smile. “It does seem it’s as bad as it looks though” he said. “It’s pretty deep, love. I think you need stitches” he instructed.

“W-what?” you asked, feeling your heart stop a little.

“You sure? Let me see” Buck said, putting Chris down and walking over to the two of you. “Oh yeah, you definitely need stitches” he agreed.

“N-no, I don’t” you chuckled nervously. “I’m sure I can just clean it up and put on a bandaid” you said, trying to take your hand away from Eddie.

“Sweetheart, you need stitches” he repeated.

“W-why?”

“It’s too deep” he insisted.

“B-but I don’t want stitches” you said.

“She’s afraid of needles” Christopher said from his spot.

“What? No, she’s not” Eddie chuckled, looking at his son and then back at you. “Are you?”

“Don’t look at me as if I’m crazy for not liking someone stabbing me with a needle” you glared at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You never asked” you shrugged.

“How come Christopher knows?”

“He asked me!”

“Okay, let’s just go” he said, putting something to apply pressure on your hand.

“B-but my desserts-”

“Sweetheart, you need stitches, you can’t even move your hand at this point and you’re bleeding a lot” he said worriedly. “Let’s go!”

“Yeah, don’t worry, we’ll finish up in here” Buck said.

“Don’t touch my desserts!”

“Don’t go near my kitchen!” Eddie yelled out at the same time as you.

“Okay, fine. Geez, you try to be helpful for once” he rolled his eyes as Christopher laughed at him.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Hey” Eddie said, holding your good hand and making your leg stop shaking once you were in the waiting room. “It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart. I promise you won’t even feel it” he smiled encouragingly.

“Easy for you to say. You practically see and do these kinds of things every day at work. Plus, you have tattoos. You are clearly okay with someone stabbing your skin with a needle-”

“Nobody’s stabbing your skin with a needle, okay? You will just feel a small pinch, I promise” he said, kissing your hand. “How come you hadn’t told me about this?”

“About what?” you frowned.

“You not liking needles. I mean, Christopher knew” he pouted.

“I don’t know, it’s not something that comes up a lot” you shrugged. “It’s not like spiders where you can just find one randomly crawling around somewhere. It’s easy to avoid needles. I told Christopher when he was having nightmares and I said everyone’s afraid of something, so he asked what I was afraid of” you explained. “Plus, it’s… kinda dumb” you said, looking down.

“What? It’s not dumb” he insisted.

“Yes, it is. You and everyone at the 118 face so many things every single day which are a lot scarier than a dumb needle-”

“Bobby’s scared of needles too” he interrupted.

“What?”

“Yeah” he smiled.

“Bobby? Your captain, Bobby? Captain Robert Nash?”

“Yes” he chuckled. “He suffers every time he donates blood” he explained. “Apparently, he has a rare type of blood that can cure pregnant women and their babies of rhesus disease” he continued.

“Honey, I know you’re trying to make me feel better, but you’re honestly making it worse” you pouted.

“What? How?”

“Because of course, Bobby can power through it and still donate blood! How does this apply to me?”

“You can too!”

“Edmundo, I am certain that you are not comparing me to your captain. He’s like the bravest person that I know!”

“Hey!”

“Aside from you!” you insisted.

“Look” he said, squeezing your good hand. “I know that you’re brave. Not Bobby brave, according to you, but you are” he insisted. “Plus, I’m going to be here and I promise to hold your hand the entire time, okay? You can squeeze it as hard as you need to” he said before kissing your temple.

“Thanks” you smiled, resting your head on his shoulder.

“And besides, you’re right. Everyone’s afraid of something. You have nothing to be embarrassed about, okay?” he said, giving you a peck on the lips.

“Okay” you smiled, still a little nervous. “So… what are you afraid of?”

“You know that” he chuckled.

“No, no. I don’t mean a meaningful fear, like something happening to Christopher, that’s rational-”

“Something happening to you is on the list as well-”

“I mean a dumb fear, like needles” you ignored him.

He sighed, looking away and then finally caved. “If you tell Buck-”

“My lips are sealed, love. I promise” you smiled.

“Snakes” he muttered.

“What?” you frowned.

“Snakes” he repeated a little louder.

“Hold on, is that why you squished my hand when Buck told us about that girl who was being strangled by her own snake? That he later hooked up with?”

“Well, yes!” he said as if it was obvious.

“Well, that’s a little bit more rational” you insisted. “I mean, snakes can be venomous and- ouch!”

“What is it your hand?”

“Yes!” you said, ungluing your good hand from his. “You’re squishing it!”

“Sorry, love” he apologized.

“It’s okay” you said, pulling him closer and kissing him again. “Thanks for letting me know” you smiled. “And thank you for being here for me” you said, kissing his cheek.

“Always, sweetheart” he smiled. "I love you" he kissed you.

"I love you too" you said, resting your head on his shoulder again.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“OH MY GOD! You are doing it all wrong!” you yelled as Eddie glared at you.

“I cannot believe this is the thank you I get for trying to help you!”

“This is not thank you. This is the opposite of thank you! You burnt my cookies!”

“That was Buck!”

“Hey!” Buck said, pointing the fire extinguisher at the oven. “You didn’t tell me they were ready and I was busy over here doing the stupid lemon bars that nobody even likes!”

“Maddie likes them!” you argued.

“Well, if you don’t like it, you come here and do it!”

“She can’t move her hand!” Eddie, snapped at Buck, as Christopher laughed at the whole scene while he ate chocolate chip cookies.

“Yes, I can!” you insisted. “And obviously, I have to if I want to bring something tonight” you said, trying to grab one of the trays, but Eddie stopped you and carefully grabbed your bandaged hand.

“Out of my kitchen, love!” he said as you glared at him. "You are on mandatory rest until I say so" he reminded you.

"I hate you" you said, rolling your eyes and going to sit next to Christopher on the counter.

"I love you too" he smiled, kissing your forehead.

“How are you two firefighters, and you have burnt down half of my desserts!?”

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: I hope you liked it :D

#9-1-1 imagine #eddie diaz #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz imagine #eddie diaz drabble

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chronicowboy · 2 years ago

Text

"Can I tell you something?"

Honestly, Eddie isn't sure where it comes from. One moment he's watching Buck trying and failing to bite through the long line of melted cheese stretching from his mouth to the slice of pizza held at arm's length, the next something scolding tears through his chest like a bullet from a sniper's rifle and Eddie's mouth falls open before he can think of what he's going to say.

"'Course," Buck mumbles through his mouthful of pizza, breathing around it because its still too hot of course. There's a smear of red sauce on his chin and the pizza is still held aloft about a foot away from his mouth, Eddie finds him desperately beautiful.

"In the truck, after I was shot," Eddie slides the plate under the pizza slice just as Buck drops it, "and after you told me you weren't hurt, there was one last moment that I fought to stay awake."

"Eddie—"

"Not for Christopher, not for you, but for myself." Eddie nods, eyes trained on the picture of Buck and Christopher on the fridge. "I just wanted to look at you. Just for one last moment. When I knew that you were okay, that you weren't hurt, that I didn't have to worry about you or Chris. I just wanted to look at you." Ironic, he thinks, that he can't look at Buck now. He sucks in a sharp breath and turns to meet Buck's dazed blue eyes. "I wanted you to be the last thing I saw." Buck swallows, that damn string of cheese still hanging from his lips. "And then I woke up to Ana sat next to me in the hospital, and I don't think I've ever been more disappointed in my life."

The loft hasn't been this silent since the morning after that one fateful night during quarantine when they'd thought it would be a good idea to get hammered and play truth or dare, and nobody could look each other in the eye over the several terrible secrets that had been revealed.

Its that same cloying silence now.

Not their usual silence. Not the comfortable silence Eddie revels in. Not the warm silence that greeted him when Eddie walked into the loft with a pizza after asking Buck to call him with an "emergency" to get out of a date with Pepa's latest "perfect woman".

"W-why are you telling me this?" Buck stutters out. "Why- Why now?"

"Because I've been on four dates since you died and none of them have felt remotely close to the night we scammed ten Porterhouses out of the Chief." Eddie shrugs, looking out to the red umbrella flapping in the wind on the balcony. He swings his gaze around to Buck. "Because you said you had the answers, and I'm hoping with everything in me that you have the answer to this question."

"W-what, um, what question is that? E-exactly?" Buck asks, voice breathy.

"If I told you that I'd been falling since that ambulance exploded," Eddie smiles, its a shaky thing full of fear, "would you catch me?"

"Always," Buck breathes without any hesitation, laying his big hand on Eddie's forearm. "Always, Eddie."

"And if I asked for your heart?" Eddie manages to choke out.

"You've had it the whole time, Eddie." Buck smiles, just as shaky as Eddie's had been, but bright and brilliant. "It only started beating again for you."

"One last question?" Eddie raises an eyebrow, his own smile beginning to ache in his cheeks.

"Anything," Buck promises.

"Will you kiss me?"

"Now, I'm not sure about that," Buck grins, all smug and self-assured despite the fucking cheese still on his fucking chin. "Don't I get a date first, Diaz?"

"What? Pizza and beer isn't good enough for you?" Eddie quirks an eyebrow, plan already forming in his head for a homecooked meal lit by candles in the kitchen at home, undoubtedly a panicked call to Bobby when the lasagne doesn't go to plan.

"I'd like to be wooed," Buck says haughtily. "I died, I won you steaks, I think I deserve a little wooing."

"Oh, you do, do you?"

"I do actually," Buck grins at him.

"How about you finish your pizza first," Eddie reaches up to cup Buck's cheek, uses his thumb to catch the string of cheese and gently pushes it past Buck's lips which open for him willingly, "and then we can circle back round to the wooing?"

Eddie pulls his thumb from Buck's mouth with a pop and watches Buck's pupils dilate until the blue of his irises is entirely eclipsed.

"Nope, wooed enough," Buck blurts out before grabbing Eddie's face and crashing their lips together clumsily.

Its the best first kiss of his life.

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