1 - 20 of 230 Bookmarked Items in The '9-1-1' Collection
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There’s a joke in here somewhere, probably. If he could figure out how to word it right. Hey, so we’ve both been broken up for a while—those Army days, man, shit gets lonely—
So, a widower walks into a bar, and he hasn’t been held by someone he loves in years.
So, the last time I was close to you, really close to you, I was restarting your heart. Isn’t that funny? We can laugh, right? You can laugh. It’s funny.
Jesus Christ.
Eddie rolls over in his empty bed, mashes his face back into his pillow, and forces himself to fall asleep.
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or: buck doesn’t touch eddie anymore. eddie’s losing it, a little bit.
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“Buck, I’m gonna need a lot more words here, buddy. Tie what for who?”
Buck sighs again, even louder and longer and noisier this time. “Eddie’s shoes,” he clarifies, through gritted teeth. “I—I usually tie them. For him.”
More silence, this time somehow more deafening. Buck inspects a stray line of grout until he can’t bear it anymore, then looks up for judgment.
Chim’s eyebrows are sky-high. “You’ve been tying Eddie’s shoes?” he repeats, strangled and high-pitched. “Regularly?”
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or: buck, eddie, and the intimacy of a properly-tied shoe.
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They’re on their 48 hours off, and yesterday, sweat-soaked and tired in the changing room, Eddie had said wanna watch a movie tomorrow, and Buck, gulping, having missed him like a limb, had said yeah—yes, of course, trying not to fling himself into Eddie’s arms, and one Jurassic Park and scrubbing marinara sauce out of the couch cushions where Christopher dropped his slice of pizza turned into beer and Mission Impossible on low volume, sun long gone down, Chris down the hall.
Series
- Part 3 of 911 ficlets
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,964
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 21
- Kudos:
- 259
- Bookmarks:
- 17
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- 1,391
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He knew, somehow, that it’s been Eddie this entire time. Buck would only trust one person to touch him like that, and it’s Eddie. His body is frozen, but he wouldn’t move anyway. Eddie holds the scalpel, the blade hovering over Buck’s skin, and he pauses. The knife stills, waiting, as he asks, “Are you ready?”
Buck prefers when he had normal nightmares, about being trapped under a truck or drowning or losing the people he loved, rather than undergoing surgery in his dreams.
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wishing someone would film the way i’m looking at you right now by fleetinghearts
Fandoms: 9-1-1 (TV)
19 Jun 2025
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Which brings Eddie to his current predicament: drowning in love and unable to do a thing about it, all while being subjected to his criminally attractive best friend sauntering around sans a shirt at every hour of the goddamn day.
Morning toothbrushing? Shirtless. After school video games? Shirtless. Reading on the couch? Shirtless. Weeding the garden in LA summer sunshine? Shirtless and sweaty. Asleep half a foot of bedspace away from Eddie? There aren’t even pants involved. Existing day-to-day seems to have become a topless event where Buck is concerned, because Eddie has apparently racked up enough overdue penance for several lifetimes.
or, eddie loves living with his best friend. he just really wishes buck would put on a fucking shirt
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Eddie's an affectionate guy, is the thing. But he's not usually like this, at least not in the middle of a crowded bar where other people can see them.
Buck doesn't think anything of it, at first.
Series
- Part 28 of 9-1-1 Prompt Fills and Ficlets
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They’re fighting over the last beer—Eddie’s by right of he only had two to Buck’s three, Buck’s argument that he needs more than Eddie because he has a higher tolerance—when Eddie realizes he’s got Buck in a shoulder hold. It doesn’t take much to bring Buck down, twisting forward and blocking Buck’s leg with his own foot, and Buck tumbles onto the floor, landing on his back with a low groan. Eddie meant for it to be a soft landing but obviously failed, because Buck seems a little stunned, laid flat on his back. It doesn’t deter Eddie from stepping past Buck’s prone body to grab the beer, popping the cap off by using the edge of the island.
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In the aftermath of another accident, Buck gets in his head about stuff. He learns to deal with it. It’s a process.
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Save a horse, ride a—
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“Do I have a crush on Eddie?” Evan blurts out, and Maddie almost spits coffee all over herself.
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Buck’s not really sure what to say here, so he doesn’t say anything. For a minute they stand there in total silence, the TV muted, and looking at Eddie – the defeated slump of his shoulders, the hand over his mouth, the eyes staring blankly at nothing – it’s like those modern art installations one of Buck’s exes used to take him to: Man, with broken heart.
Man, eviscerated.
Buck’s no good with people being sad around him – it always feels like his responsibility, like if they aren’t smiling it’s his fault, and this time it really is his fault, at least partially, so he offers, “You can beat me up, if it would make you feel better.”
//
[OR: Buck accidentally fucks Eddie's wife.]
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Eddie’s eyes are squeezed shut, and Buck feels something inside him crack when this helpless, devastated sob wracks his body, eyelashes clumped with tears he’s not letting fall.
“Fuck,” he says, wobbly. “I just—God, I feel fucking insane. I know, logically—fuck.”
“What do you need?” Buck asks again. “What can I do?”
Eddie makes a frustrated noise. “I don’t know. I don’t know why this won’t stop.”
“Okay,” Buck says, trying desperately to think of what he finds comforting when he’s in a bad place. Or what Eddie reaches for when he needs comfort. The answer is simple enough—a literal reach for each other, reassurance in the magnetism with which they lean into the other’s orbit. A hand on a shoulder, a press of bodies beside each other, a nudge of knees under the table. “Can I, uh. Can I touch you?”
or, eddie panics. buck holds him.
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Eddie wants to scream. Eddie wants to talk to Buck. There are questions he should ask - Do you know when the bleeding started? How long has it been? How bad does it hurt? Are you injured anywhere else? There is a conversation he wants to have - If I leave you here I don’t know that you’ll be alive when I get back. There are protocols, in disaster situations. If you can only save one person, you save the one most likely to survive. Beyond protocol, you always fucking save the kid. Beyond that, it's our kid. It’s our fucking kid, it’s Christopher, and I am going to get him to the surface and in doing so I am going to leave you for dead. But it’s Buck, and they never really needed words to talk, and Buck is still looking at him, and Eddie knows what he'd say. He'd downplay the injury. He knows the protocol. And he’d already said it, damned him out loud, he’s going to take you back up top and then come back for me.
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Buck nods, two slow movements like any action at all pains him. Eddie isn’t sure how literal or metaphorical that statement is, and wants to tell him again to let a doctor look at him, but they’ve had that argument several times already tonight and Buck had a look in his eyes like- like Eddie doesn’t even know what, but whatever would have happened if he’d kept pushing would not have been good, so he’d let it drop and stuck close to his side. "She shouldn't be alone."
—
Bobby dies. Eddie worries. Life goes on.
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you can start a family who will always show you love by fleetinghearts
Fandoms: 9-1-1 (TV)
15 Oct 2022
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“Yeah, yeah, he’s—he’s my kid, he’s my kid,” Buck tells her, tripping over his words in the effort to get this whole process to hurry the fuck up so he can see Chris.
There’s the sound of something hitting the floor from behind him, followed by what might be plastic bouncing off the shiny hospital tiles. The person at the desk looks up in surprise, over Buck’s shoulder, and he turns to look too.
Eddie’s standing there, Styrofoam cup rolling at his feet, coffee splattered all down the bottom of his faded blue jeans. The plastic lid of the cup skitters over the tile before coming to a stop a few feet away. He looks like someone punched him in the gut, absolutely shellshocked, something Buck can’t quite read behind the startled expression on his face.
or, buck's looking for something, and the diazes let him know he already has it
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And they were okay, in the end, but they were nearly not, and Christopher’s a kid. He’s already lost his mother – he can’t lose Eddie too.
Buck just wishes he didn’t have to, either.
or, Eddie leaves the 118. Everyone adjusts. Especially Buck.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 13,189
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 79
- Kudos:
- 2,231
- Bookmarks:
- 541
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- 18,982
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made your mark on me (a golden tattoo) by thatbuddie (talktothesky) for Iangdonsmel
Fandoms: 9-1-1 (TV)
05 Sep 2022
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“I want another tattoo.” Eddie shatters the silence delicately, careful not to disturb the peace that cocoons them.
Pressing his hand further on Eddie’s shoulder, because he knows Eddie like no one has ever known him before, like no one will ever know him again, Buck asks, “Here?”
Eddie nods, tightening his fingers around Buck’s forearm.
“It’s kind of…” Eddie pauses to find the perfect words, until he realizes he doesn’t need them. “It’s kind of for you. And for me. For us. You could… I’d like you to get it too.”
The corners of Buck’s lips curl in a soft smile as his fingers curl around Eddie’s shoulder. “I’d like to get it too.”
(or, Buck and Eddie keep getting matching tattoos, and then discover that maybe everyone is right when they think it means something more.)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 15,010
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Comments:
- 177
- Kudos:
- 5,000
- Bookmarks:
- 1,273
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- 43,834
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“Okay,” Buck says, collapsing beside Eddie on the sofa with a glint in his eyes that almost definitely means trouble, “before you say no, remember that I already said yes for both of us, so you don’t actually have a choice.”
or: Buck and Eddie agree to fake date to win a reality TV show. It goes... well, pretty much exactly how you'd expect.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 21,052
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Comments:
- 131
- Kudos:
- 2,055
- Bookmarks:
- 417
- Hits:
- 20,085
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Romance is a lot easier to write about than it is to put into practice, and Eddie is the world’s most ridiculous living example of that. He can practically hear the kind of jokes that Shannon would make about it, if he ever told her about the books but - he didn’t. And somehow, probably just because he didn’t start writing until after they weren’t living together anymore, she never found out.
There’s actually only a handful of people in the world who know that Eddie is a writer - and more specifically, that he’s E. Diaz, one of the bestselling romance authors on the market.
or - the one where everything in canon is the same, except eddie diaz is secretly a bestselling romance author, and nobody knows. Yet.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 26,184
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Comments:
- 314
- Kudos:
- 6,209
- Bookmarks:
- 1,694
- Hits:
- 53,184
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“Dad said that if anything happens to him, I’ll get to live with you. He wrote it in his wish,” Chris says simply, like he’s making complete, logical sense. “And he signed it and everything.”
“His . . . Wish.” Buck repeats. “That he signed?” He’s racking his brain to think of when Eddie might have brought this up or asked him or even mentioned this, but he’s coming up with absolutely nothing. Not a word has left Eddie’s lips about a will or any future plans, but then it suddenly makes sense how he’d come home from his secret meeting a little more relaxed, and then telling Buck to go have some bonding time with Chris, and –
“Oh my god,” Buck groans, covering his face with his hands. “Your dad wrote me into his will.”
“Will!” Chris shouts, the word finally clicking, but then he quickly pauses. “I like wish better.”
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Or, the one where Chris spills the beans about the will almost immediately.- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,546
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 6
- Comments:
- 106
- Kudos:
- 4,583
- Bookmarks:
- 989
- Hits:
- 28,076
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