#ishawrites
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there were pages turned (with the bridges burned)
Somehow, (re)building a relationship with his father was both easier and harder than Eddie expected.
or,
Five conversations that Eddie and Ramon have over the course of a year as they work on their relationship.
a very, very, very late birthday present for @tawaifeddiediaz. in my defense, i did start writing it before her birthday, but it took me a while to. finish. thanks to @oneawkwardcookie for helping!
buck/eddie, eddie & ramon. 3754 words.
one.
It had been a good night. Chaotic, as most of their nights were these days, in their little household of three, but in the best way possible - he and Buck took turns working with Chris on his homework and working on dinner, and they ate and talked and laughed until Eddie felt the kind of warmth that only came from spending time with his family. Chris was reading in his room now, Eddie could hear Buck moving around in the kitchen as Eddie finished straightening up the living room, and he had plans for a quiet night in together after they finished cleaning. Yeah, it was the best kind of night.
“Hey, Eddie,” Buck poked his head in from the dining room. “You wanna go say goodnight to Chris? I’ll finish up in here.”
Eddie rose up from the coffee table with the TV remote still in hand. “Why? His bedtime’s not for another half an hour.”
Buck was smirking inexplicably as he stepped into the living room proper. “You forgot, didn’t you.”
Eddie frowned. “What did I forget?”
“Your mom and dad are going to be calling in…about ten minutes.”
What - oh, fuck.
He and his parents were trying to be better about keeping up with each other and actually talking, which meant calls every other Sunday unless he had a shift. Which was today, and Eddie had, like an idiot, forgotten about it.
Buck was still grinning, walking forward to take the remote out of Eddie’s hand and set it down. “Didn’t you guys want to be better with talking now?”
“Yeah, but I forgot. And I had plans.” Eddie knew he was whining like his kid now. He didn’t particularly care.
Buck’s eyebrows shot up. “What kind of plans?”
“Never mind. I’m gonna go say goodnight to Christopher,” Eddie sighed, pressing a kiss to Buck’s lips.
“Eddie, wait! What kinds of plans?”
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#ishawrites#911#911 fox#eddie diaz#evan buckley#buddie#ramon diaz#911 fic#buddie fic#tuserzee#userdahlias#tuserksn#usernymika#usergary#useralie#userceecee
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And the life will lead you to most difficult phase where you will find none beside you, people will make you down...they will make you feel the worst, and at that time you thought various of things to do... sometimes you will thought to end your life and get peace but this is not the right decision...The world always want to make you down but it is upon you how will you fight for yourself...
At that time you doesn't have anyone beside you...the world, family, friends all will be against you, but its your responsibility to make yourself strong!!
In today's era none will take your stand , whom you trust the most in that time they will become you enemy...but its all upon you how will you survive and fight for yourself...
#ishawrites❤️
#authoring
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til the end (i'm gonna ride with you)
buck/eddie, 2638 words, explicit
also known as: the riding fic that got wildly out of control
as always, for @tawaifeddiediaz, who asked for this and then held my hand through the entire process
It all happens so fast that Buck honestly can’t remember how they got here.
Maybe it starts when Hen suggests they all go out after shift, or maybe it starts with the man riding the bull, or maybe it starts when Buck turns to Eddie and winks, says, “You know, I know how to ride one of those.” In any case, Buck makes a mental note to bring up his time as a ranch hand only in private after that, because Eddie - very uncharacteristically, very unsubtly - all but drags Buck out of the bar after that, practically manhandling him into the car, driving home faster than Buck’s ever seen him.
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#ishawrites#911#911 fox#911 fic#buddie#buddie fic#evan buckley#eddie diaz#tuserad1thi#tuserzee#userdahlias#usersiren#usergary#usernymika#userceecee#tuserksn#lesbiandiaz#no one perceive me now
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swaying as the room burned down
buck/eddie, 1169 words, 5x18 spec
as always, i am incapable of writing without @tawaifeddiediaz 💜
Buck is happy. Buck should be happy. Everyone he loves most is in one place, there’s enough food, drinks, and laughter to go around, and he can feel the joy in the air. Hen and Karen, brimming with love, are taking turns dancing with each other and with Denny. Bobby and Athena have bright smiles as they look over their little family. Jee-Yun was being cooed at by everyone in the room before Maddie put her down for a nap, and Christopher was dorkily dancing with his dad and now he and Harry have their heads together over a video game. Buck even spotted Maddie and Chimney in one corner of the dance floor.
And Eddie. Buck has been unable to take his eyes off Eddie all day - Eddie making Christopher laugh, Eddie spinning May around the dance floor, Eddie with his suit and his jacket and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows that are destroying what’s left of Buck’s sanity. Eddie has been so much happier lately, lighter than Buck’s ever seen him - like a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders and he’s finally learning to live without it.
Buck is so, so proud of him, and so, so happy for him. He watches Eddie, who can dance, apparently, smile brightly when he twirls Maddie and she kisses his cheek, and laugh as he waltzes with Karen, and circle the floor with Jee-Yun in his arms, and thinks all I need is for him to be happy. He looks around, and he sees healing, and happiness, and everyone finding themselves and rediscovering love, and he thinks what more could I possibly want.
But it’s tainted - his heart feels heavy with his breakup, with the knowledge that trying to build something won’t matter if he and his partner love and appreciate and want different things, with the realisation that it’s never going to work out for him if it isn’t with the one person he can never have - even if his traitorous heart refuses to quit hoping. Because sometimes, he thinks possibly - especially after Eddie came out, quietly one day, and shyly told them all he was queer, even though he hadn’t settled on a label yet. When he catches Eddie looking at him, or smiling fondly, with the smile Buck likes to pretend is just for him, or trusting him with Christopher, again and again, he thinks maybe and what if.
He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t realise he can’t see Eddie on the dance floor anymore, doesn’t realise until a shadow falls across the table he’s sitting at all alone and there’s a hand in front of him. Buck will take to his grave that that is all it takes for him to recognise it’s Eddie. He looks up just in time to catch Eddie’s smile and, “Are you going to mope here all day or are you going to come dance?”
Buck bursts out laughing. “Hate to break it to you, but I can’t dance. Not all of us have hidden talents - when did you learn to dance like that?”
Eddie, apparently, elects to ignore the jab about his dancing skills. “Oh, I’m aware. Doesn’t mean you need to sit here and sulk.”
“I - wha - I’m not sulking!”
“Sure you aren’t. Come on,” Eddie smirks, wiggling his fingers.
Buck heaves a put upon sigh, but he’s having trouble keeping his amusement in check. “Fine.” He takes Eddie’s hand to pull himself up, but Eddie doesn’t let go - just grins, bright and beautiful, before he starts pulling Buck towards the dance floor. They come to a stop just as the upbeat song finishes and a slow song starts playing in its place. Buck, very aware that Eddie is still holding his goddamn hand, raises his eyebrows. “Come on, we’ll come back when there’s a song we can actually dance to.”
Eddie levels him with a look. “Oh, no. Now that I’ve got you here, I’m not letting you go. You’ll find an even darker corner to sulk in and I won’t be able to find you again.”
Buck’s brain gets stuck on not letting you go. Before he can say something stupid like there’s nowhere I would go from where I wouldn’t come running if you call, Eddie has used their still joined hands to rearrange them into something that resembles a traditional dance pose. Their hands stay clasped together, but Buck now has one arm around Eddie, and he’s very, very aware of Eddie’s arm around him, the searing heat of Eddie’s hand on his waist. “I still can’t dance, Eddie.”
Eddie smiles that just-for-Buck smile at him again. “This is a slow one. I’ll teach you. Watch me - step back here, and…”
Buck, again, can’t take his eyes off Eddie’s face as he gently coaches Buck through simple steps. To his surprise, they fall into something resembling a pattern, and he even manages not to step on Eddie’s toes. Eddie looks proudly at him. “There you go. I knew you could do it.”
“Yeah,” Buck murmurs, “Guess I never had the right teacher before.”
Eddie meets his eyes, fond. “Guess not.”
They sway. They hold each other, and keep each other’s gaze, and circle around the dance floor until the song finishes. They stop in place, but Eddie doesn’t seem to want to let Buck go. And Buck - Buck has never, ever, been the first to let go of Eddie - but especially now, with Eddie’s arms around him like they belong there, Eddie so close to him that Buck’s sure he can hear Buck’s heartbeat, Eddie looking into his eyes like he never wants to look away.
And suddenly - suddenly - Buck realises what it all means. The smiles he’s never been able to place, the way Eddie glanced at him when he came out, the way Eddie’s eyes seem to find his in any crowd, the dancing - suddenly, Buck feels like he’s been hit with a hammer and blinding light all at once. He’s not sure what expression his face is making, but he’s certain that every single emotion he’s tried so hard to hide are all swimming to the surface. He can feel Eddie freeze in his arms, see Eddie’s eyes fill with tears, just as he hears himself whisper, “Oh.”
Eddie’s still holding him, still looking at him, and his smile is bright even as a tear drips down his face. “You too, huh?”
“I - Eddie. So long.” Buck thinks he sounds strangled.
Eddie closes his eyes, then. Tilts his head forward until his forehead rests on Buck’s. “Me too.”
And Buck can do nothing but close his own eyes, drop Eddie’s hand to bring his arm around and hold Eddie properly, start moving again when he feels Eddie do the same. Eddie pulls him closer, moves closer to rest his temple against Buck’s, and Buck feels he’s dancing on air.
A new song plays. Everyone he loves most is around him, Buck is happy, and they sway.
#ishawrites#911#911 fox#911 fic#buddie#buddie fic#buddie fanfic#evan buckley#eddie diaz#tuserad1thi#userdahlias#tuserzee#tuserksn#usersiren#usergary#usernymika#useralie#userceecee#if you saw this with typos no you didn't
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four kisses
partially inspired by this fic by @capseycartwright. special thanks to my love @zeethebooknerd ❤
buck/eddie, 1108 words, fluff.
the first time they kiss is when chris and eddie have had a fight, and eddie’s in the kitchen upset and spiralling and doubting himself, and buck reassures him and comforts him and promises that he's not going anywhere. it’s small, it’s quick, barely noticeable among buck's words and the way he has their foreheads pressed together, but it warms eddie to his core.
they don't talk about it.
maybe it's for the best — maybe they're not ready, but it's okay because christopher comes out and he and eddie apologise to each other and eddie still has his family. he still has his son in his arms, and he still has buck, with fond glances and soft touches and seamless partnership and his friendship.
(if his gaze lingers sometimes, if every time he touches buck he wants to grab on and never let go, well. he’ll tell buck one day.
he's just not ready yet.)
——
the second time they kiss is also in eddie’s house.
(he’s starting to think this house, his home, will always contain traces of buck. he wouldn’t want it any other way.)
they’re off shift, and his son is asleep down the hall, and he and buck are lounging on the couch, half-ignoring whatever movie’s playing on the screen in favour of just existing with each other, and eddie thinks this is the most relaxed he’s ever been. it’s been a perfect evening, extremely domestic in its simplicity, and maybe it should scare him — the level of comfort and dependency he has with his best friend — but instead it just makes him feel secure.
a loud sound from the tv startles him out of his musings, and he rolls his head against the back of the couch to turn to buck to find him looking right back at eddie, mirroring his position on the couch as his eyes twinkle.
eddie’s mesmerised.
they both lean in at the same time. it’s a little longer this time round, and eddie has time to wonder at the softness of buck’s lips and the warmth of his skin before they break apart to beam at each other.
they still don’t talk about it.
(and it’s not like eddie’s unsure of his feelings for buck, but he’s definitely not sure of himself, and he knows buck has his own hang ups too, so. they don’t talk about it, and they keep being companions and partners on and off the field and whatever this something-more-than-friends zone is that they’ve found themselves in.)
——
the third time almost doesn’t count, except eddie can’t stop thinking about it.
it’s been a rough call, and as they all return to the station and get cleaned up, and bobby heads to his office to call athena and hen and chim head upstairs to watch one of their dumb reality shows, eddie waits in the locker room for buck to come out of the showers.
he’s so wrapped up in his own thoughts, though, that he doesn’t even notice buck’s footsteps until his shadow falls across his lap and eddie looks up from the ground to see him in shorts and an (is that eddie’s?) lafd hoodie and damp hair. buck wordlessly holds out a hand and eddie lets himself be pulled up, but instead of keeping him still, buck uses the momentum to wrap his arms around his waist and pull him into a hug. eddie folds himself around him in return, feels his partner relax into him and bury his head in the crook of eddie’s neck like he always does.
eddie’s very aware of the way his own hands are gripping buck’s hoodie tight, and the way buck’s breath feels on his skin, and that after minutes pass and buck shows no signs of letting go, they’re in a room with glass walls and have been hugging longer than friends ever do, but he can’t make himself let go, either — especially when he feels buck’s lips press into his neck in the ghost of a kiss and stay there.
that small bit of comfort stays with him, even as they break apart and move upstairs, as they work their way through a simple meal, as bobby puts them back on rotation and they go out for more calls, as the sun rises and they all head home to sleep off their shift.
but they don’t talk about it.
eddie’s not an idiot - he knows they can’t go on like this forever, but he’s content with this slow pace, in this limbo with buck.
(maybe he’s a little terrified of himself, though — every relationship he’s ever been in, he’s been selfish and inconsiderate and pushed and pushed until his partner broke. he’s already lost his child’s mother, in more ways than one, and he thinks — no, he knows — he wouldn’t recover from losing buck.)
——
the fourth time is different.
the fourth time isn’t by happenstance, the fourth time eddie makes happen, because. because - he can’t stop thinking about the way buck hugged him, the way he comforted eddie and let eddie comfort him, the way he and buck have always been so in sync with each other, how after a bad day all eddie wants is to see christopher and buck, and he’s lying in bed in the middle of the night, about to drift off, when his own words from that same locker room come back to him, unbidden - tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone. so if you love her, tell her.
suddenly eddie’s wide awake.
he doesn’t get any sleep that night. he gets up before his alarm, wakes up christopher and feeds him breakfast, gets him ready, drives him to school, and when christopher has disappeared into the building with a kiss on the cheek and a love you, dad!, eddie’s driving to buck’s loft on autopilot before he knows it.
he doesn’t know what he’s doing, can’t form a coherent thought beyond tell him. he’s not even sure what he wants to tell buck, he’s not sure he’s not going to fuck everything up, he’s not sure why he’s banging on buck’s door at eight in the morning, but when buck sleepily opens the door and mumbles ‘eds, what-’ all eddie can do is take buck’s face in his hands and press their lips together right there in the doorway until buck relaxes in his hold and kisses him back.
the need for air forces them to break apart eventually, and buck’s smile could power a thousand suns. eddie can only grin back helplessly and think that maybe ready is overrated.
#911#911 fox#911 fic#buddie#buddie fic#buddie fanfic#evan buckley#eddie diaz#ishawrites#tuserksn#userdahlias#usersiren#lesbiandiaz#usergary#usernymika
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humari adhuri kahani
our incomplete story.
this one brought to you by @alberthan, @diazchristopher, and yours truly. future fic, buck/eddie, unrequited love (sort of), angst.
It’s quiet. Buck would almost say too quiet, but the silence is nice sometimes.
(Especially when he’s here. Especially when he’s with Eddie.)
They’re working in tandem, Eddie rinsing off dishes and handing them to Buck, who dries them and puts them on the rack. It’s a routine they’ve followed a thousand times before – years and years of late nights, family gatherings, spending almost more time with each other than significant others. Something about the silence is tranquil, calming, and peaceful. It makes Buck want to lay himself bare in front of the one person who knows him inside and out.
Maybe that’s why it spills out of him tonight. After years of not addressing it, letting it sit between them, knowing but not speaking of it. Maybe the silence is what makes Buck honest. Things unsaid spilling over him like the water in the plate he’s rinsing.
He’s unnecessarily focused on drying the plate in his hands when he says, “You know what’s funny?”
Eddie looks at him curiously.
(Buck’s still staring at his plate.)
“I used to be in love with you.”
Eddie’s hands freeze where they’re rinsing off a bowl. He turns back to the sink. A moment passes; Buck sees a bitter smile creep up the edges of his face from the corner of his eye. There’s a pause before Eddie says, “I know.” Another pause. “But you knew that, didn’t you?”
Buck’s surprised Eddie wants to have this conversation, but, well. He was the one who opened this can of worms. He’s got no one to blame but himself. He shrugs once. “I suspected it. A part of me definitely did. But then… you were with Ana, and I found Taylor.” He pauses, thinking about her for a moment. She was supposed to be working late, but she’s probably home by now. Most likely settled in bed with her laptop, she has a presentation in two days. “I knew you didn’t love me back, so I thought it was best to move on. So we could both be happy.” Another pause. “We’re happy, aren’t we?”
(He hopes he doesn’t sound as plaintive as he feels.)
Eddie’s finally looking at Buck. Buck can’t stand to look at the pain and longing on his face. He has to avert his eyes as he hears Eddie say, “Yeah, Buck. We’re happy.”
(Buck almost wishes Eddie hadn’t said that.)
Silence settles over them once more. They get through most of the dishes before Eddie breaks it again. “After... the shooting in LA, after I broke up with Ana - actually, the reason I broke up with Ana - there was a period… where I was in love with you too.” He sighs. “But you had moved on, hadn’t you.”
(It wasn’t a question. Buck tries to come up with an answer anyway.)
(He wonders, briefly, why the only thing surprising about this conversation is that they’re actually having it.)
He knows Eddie can hear the regret in his voice when he settles on, “Yeah.”
Eddie turns off the tap and dries his hands as Buck puts the last bowl on the rack. He takes the towel from Eddie and wipes his own hands as they finally turn to face each other properly. It’s Eddie who speaks again. “You know, Hen and Chim, they told me once.”
Buck frowns. “Told you what?”
Eddie sounds almost wistful. “ I- I wasn’t very…subtle about my feelings for you. They sat me down one day and told me that you loved me too and I should just tell you. Be honest with you.”
Buck stiffens and realises he’s been holding his breath. He lets it out in a rush. “What did you say?”
“I told them that I knew you. Better than anyone. You loved me. You used to.I knew that you did. And that you don't anymore.”
“Yeah.”
Eddie’s smile is tight. He bumps his shoulder to his in a soft touch. “Hey, but we’re happy now.”
“Yeah. Happy.”
As if synchronised, they both move as one, pushing off the counter and walking to the living room; straightening up the remnants of the night and settling on the couch. Eddie picks up the remote and puts something on the TV.
(If asked, neither of them could tell you what it is.)
As he stares unseeingly at the TV, Buck can hear the echoes of Christopher’s laughter in the halls. He can feel the imprints of the years of memories, of coming home to Eddie, of Eddie coming home to him.
(The silence feels weighted now.)
He doesn’t know how much time has passed before he speaks again. “Eddie, I -”
Eddie cuts him off. “Don’t say it.”
Of course, Eddie knows him better than he knows himself. Eddie knows what he’s thinking, what he’s wondering.
Still, he wouldn’t be Buck if he knew where to quit. “Do you think about it? What could’ve been different?”
Eddie doesn’t respond for a long moment. They’re still not looking at each other. The moment stretches on, the air feels heavier.
“Maybe.”
Buck glances at him and turns his head back to the screen. He can feel his thoughts take a bitter turn. “I guess we were young and stupid anyway.”
Eddie's voice cuts the air like a knife. “My love for you wasn’t.”
Eyes wide, Buck turns to Eddie, just to find Eddie’s already looking at him, a terrible fire burning in his eyes. Buck tenses, but Eddie seems to deflate just as quickly. He sounds resigned as he says, “Maybe we just weren’t meant to be.”
Buck can’t breathe. “Or maybe we were, but we missed our shot.”
Eddie’s smile is sad now. “Maybe.”
They turn back to the TV together. Buck still doesn’t know what’s playing. “In another life, perhaps.”
(What was worse: their vow of silence stretching the space between them, or the words that filled those spaces?)
“We could’ve been really happy.” It’s so quiet Buck almost doesn’t hear it.
“Or we would’ve crashed and burned.”
Eddie lets out a short laugh. “I’d like to believe not. I have more faith in us than that.”
“Yeah.”
Buck’s quiet for another moment. “I keep wondering. I know I shouldn’t. What if. If we hadn’t missed our chance, we could’ve had it all. We could’ve had everything.”
Eddie’s silent.
Buck can feel his thoughts going in a million directions. He doesn’t know what to think. It’s nothing new, this conversation, but there’s something about voicing these not-secrets they’ve always kept buried that has him breathless.
(And yet, he still feels calm. He always does, when he’s with Eddie.)
That’s probably why he needs to voice this too. “But, Eddie… you know I love you, right? You’re my best friend.”
Eddie smiles softly. “Back at you.”
“And… whatever else could’ve happened, I wouldn’t trade your friendship for anything. No matter what.”
“I love you, too.”
(He does. Buck can feel it in his voice. It’s one thing Buck never doubted. Not once.)
(What was more painful: Eddie’s love for Buck, or the words he wished he’d said?)
Eddie’s not done. “And… I have everything I need. Getting to have you in my life, in whatever form, that to me is—everything I’ll ever want.”
Eddie’s fully looking at Buck now. “I’m sorry you had to hurt, though.”
Buck’s startled into laughter. “That’s not your fault.”
“I know. I’m still sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too.”
(They're both older, a little wiser, a little softer, more settled around the edges and in their own skin. They should know better. they should know to move on. They have moved on. But…they can't help but want to fall into the familiarity of each other, that comfortable feeling of being home that they only ever got from each other.
They might have moved on from each other physically and in every way that seems to matter, but their hearts haven't caught the memo yet. They probably never will. Because their love for each other is an intrinsic part of themselves now, no matter their circumstances in reality. no matter how foolish or hopeless it may be.
They weren't what each other wanted now; but it was like an itch under the skin waiting to be scratched. The overwhelming feeling of a longing they once both knew.
And yet.
They just can't do anything about it. And they won't.
They have partners. Lives.
Timing is truly a bitch.)
They sit there until the TV screen fades to black, whatever they were not-watching rolls credits.
The silence feels lighter now. Buck doesn’t feel bad about breaking it. “We were so different back then. Two people trying to survive themselves, build a home. Maybe this is what we’re meant to be like.”
“Wondering about the what ifs?”
Buck nods.
“Incomplete.”
#911#911 fic#buddie#buddie fic#eddie diaz#evan buckley#911 fox#userdahlias#tuserksn#dailybuddie#humari adhuri kahani verse#ishawrites#thats a tag ig#anyway#blame this on alcohol#k tag#neethu tag
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