effervescentwolf

[effervescentwolf]

ohhh early 2000s protagonists save me

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i'd have you anytime :)

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they do this all the time and they’re not even together yet. smh

[effervescentwolf]

landslide season

buddie | 14k | explicit | post-s8, feelings realization, codependency, getting together

And Eddie asked him. Asked him if he was sure, assured him that he wasn’t imposing or putting him out or whatever other frankly incredible things Buck’s brain might’ve been telling him. He double triple quadruple checked if Buck was sure he wanted to move into a glorified sardine can, to which Buck responded, beggars can’t be choosers, I’m not exactly swimming in it, Eddie! And yeah. Fair. But there was just. There was no reason for him to leave so quickly, that’s all. Eddie hates this apartment.

Buck moves out. Eddie tries to cope.

[read on ao3!]

[effervescentwolf]

some guy

[effervescentwolf]

can't live the dreams you're spinning | 9-1-1 | Buck/Eddie | 1/1

5.2K words | explicit arguing | jealousy | first time | first kiss | blowjobs | intercrural sex | sexuality crisis | feelings realization | past buck/tommy

can't live the dreams you're spinning [On AO3]

Eddie's in a mood when he gets home.

Buck thinks he's trying to hide it, but it's honestly hard to tell the difference between Eddie genuinely trying to hide that he's pissed and Eddie quietly stewing while he looks for an opening to pick a fight.

Currently, they're clattering around the kitchen, putting groceries away, which feels unpleasantly like another night in this very same space, Eddie's tense shoulders and cut-glass profile, the way he's not meeting Buck's eyes. It makes Buck want to flinch and spit and pick a fight himself, which he hates. They never really used to fight. Being in a room with Eddie never used to feel like walking on rotten floorboards, just waiting for one to give way and send them both crashing down into ruin, but things have been weird between them since Eddie came back. Or maybe since he left for the first time. Maybe since Buck found the real estate listings on his tablet, or maybe even further back—maybe since he sat in the loft he doesn't live in anymore and told Eddie, it was a date, and watched his face go slack with shock for an unguarded instant before he mustered a response.

That means something, probably, but Buck's been trying not to think about it.

(continue reading on AO3)

[effervescentwolf]

a traitor in camelot? who could it be? 🤨🤨🤨

[effervescentwolf]

i think i'm sending this one to everyone, but .6 for the intimacy prompts 🙂‍↕️ and/or 20!

tysm kasia ❣️ 6. teasingly kissing the tip of the nose

—

Buck looks absolutely miserable, really, turning his head back when Eddie walks in through the front door. Sunken into the couch cushions, a pitiful knit to his eyebrows, shoulders hunched and lips— they’d be pouting if Buck could do anything with his mouth at all right now. Eddie, hit with a blinding wave of affection, can’t help snickering before he can even say hello. 

“Laughing at my suffering now, I see,” Buck says. It comes out strained, because he’s stubborn and would rather pull at the blistering skin of his jaw than not talk.

Eddie throws his keys into the bowl by the door, toes his shoes off. “I’ve laughed at your suffering before.”

“I know.” A scowl that only really works to make the little animal inside Eddie’s chest swell. “This is serious.”

The blinds are drawn, but it’s mid-morning and the sun fights its way through gaps in the fabric like it’s trying to reach Buck, throwing shadows across his downturned face. It’s not really all that often that Eddie comes home to Buck waiting for him, with their shifts aligned and their hips joined, but it’s times like these where Eddie gets to savor the way the aches in his limbs fade when he sees Buck, the way he still gets a little surprised every time, like, oh, right, this is all he’s ever wanted.

“It’s what you get,” Eddie says, lifting up Buck’s legs and slipping to sit underneath them, “for always taking off your mask too early.” Buck’s thighs settle on his lap.

“The fire was out.”

“And yet.” With one palm resting on Buck’s hipbone, Eddie twists a little to the side to let his other hand slide up to the back of Buck’s head, until they’re touching everywhere; Eddie can feel the rise and fall of Buck’s chest against his, slow and steady. No place he’d rather be, really. He could fall asleep right now, easy, exhausted down to the bone, but— Buck’s awake, and he missed him at work so much he wants to keep this until he can’t fight off sleep any longer.

A little pressure at Buck’s neck, and he’s tilting his head up so Eddie can look at the damage around Buck’s chin and down the one side of his jaw, where the flare of residual heat had hit him. The singed skin is already healing but still irritated and red; his lips are chapped and blistering, glistening wet from the cooling gel Buck’s supposed to lather on every couple of hours. He’s letting the examination happen, a little resigned. Eddie squeezes his hip when he’s done. Buck looks like he’s about to tip forward for a kiss before huffing out a breath, slumping back into his pillow.

“This sucks,” Buck groans, “I’ve been eating soup through a straw for days and I can’t even kiss you.”

“You complaining about Mrs. Sarafyan’s soup?” Eddie leans back a smidge, mock-offended on behalf of their neighbor.

“No.” A huff. “It’s delicious.”

“I’ll let her know,” Eddie says, and they’re still so, so close. He’s considering moving his legs up, settling in up against Buck’s side on this couch that’s probably too small and maybe taking a nap after all; nothing but the scent of Buck’s shampoo in his nose and the steady beat of his heart against his chest; and he’s leaning in already, about to bury his nose in Buck’s curls, when—

“You know, if you really loved me, you’d kiss me even with—” and Buck waves his hands in the general direction of his mouth, “—all this.”

And because Eddie really is disgustingly in love with him, he actually, for about a second, considers it. Just a faint brush of their lips, or the corner of Buck’s mouth, maybe; Eddie hasn’t been letting on too much just how on edge he is, but this is the longest they’ve gone without a kiss in— forever, probably. Ever since the first one. He shakes the thought away. But he’s already angling down, eyes set on Buck’s; except when he’s about half an inch away he diverts, dropping a quick kiss to the tip of Buck’s nose instead.

“Eddie,” Buck says, except it comes out as kind of an undignified whine, and Eddie grins at him just to see that frustrated little line appear between Buck’s eyebrows. “You’re killing me,” he goes on, and Eddie can’t hold in the laugh that bursts out of him. He muffles half of it in Buck’s shoulder, avoiding where his skin is tender, breathes him in. He smells like laundry detergent and aloe vera and something Eddie wants to keep forever.

Eddie almost stays right there, where he can nuzzle into him so perfectly, when Buck’s hand comes up to Eddie’s head and he sinks his fingers into his hair. The scratch of his nails against his scalp has Eddie more awake than he’s been in hours, and suddenly he wants. He pushes up, just a bit; Buck’s hand stays, settles strong and heavy at the nape of his neck, and when Eddie looks him in the eyes he sees them blown wide and dark. He squeezes Buck’s hip again, revels in the way the muscle there gives in to his touch.

“I can kiss you in other places,” Eddie murmurs, because apparently he enjoys torturing Buck. Himself, too— with his eyes fluttering closed Eddie nearly forgets, drawn to the familiar shape of Buck’s lips, the lingering memory of the taste of him, the weight of his tongue inside his mouth. He feels Buck shiver from the way his breath must whisper across his cheek; he feels it, too, that familiar itch under his skin that’s making heat begin to creep up his spine. The one inch of space between his lips and Buck’s feels too vast and barely-there all at once.

“Like,” Eddie goes on, letting his nose brush along Buck’s cheekbone, “here,” lips ghosting just a scant bit away from the unblemished side of Buck’s jaw before pressing down into the stubble there, almost chaste. Buck gasps anyway. His fingertips dig near-painfully into Eddie’s nape, and it makes a groan come out from somewhere deep in his lungs, so Eddie opens his mouth and pushes his tongue against the spot where his lips just were, lapping wet and slick at Buck’s pulsepoint. He feels it, his pulse speeding up against his tongue, the way his breath catches on a swallowed moan.

“Or,” Eddie says, wrenching himself away from Buck with all his might, because he was trying something; lets the tip of his tongue trail up Buck’s jaw to his ear. “Here,” he says, catching Buck’s earlobe between his teeth and closing his lips around it.

“Fuck,” Buck grits through his teeth, shifting in Eddie’s grip like he doesn’t know which way to go. A soothing kiss against that little spot below Buck’s ear; a tremble that works its way through them both where they’re joined, like a jolt of power, and that has Eddie giving up trying to speak. Instead he just presses kiss after kiss in a line down Buck’s unmarred neck, in a haste to get to the muscle at Buck’s neck, the joint of his shoulder, the jut of his collarbone, littering the soft skin there with nibbles and bites and sucks and soothing them with the flat of his tongue. All the while Buck’s push-pulling him closer by his hair, like he’s trying to attach Eddie’s lips to himself forever, panting against his cheek.

It’s at that point that Eddie notices that he’s so worked up that not even the smell of antiseptic cream can turn him off. There’s only the bulk of Buck nestled against his chest and the marks of Eddie’s teeth blooming pink and bright under the neckline of Buck’s shirt, clear in the sunlight breaking in; he looks a little mauled, red all over, burnt on one side and kissed to pieces on the other.

It’s kind of insane, in a way that has Eddie nearly keeling over with it every single time, how fast this happens. How all Buck really has to do is just lie there and it’s enough; just the love of Eddie’s life panting his name and looking up at him like he trusts him and suddenly Eddie feels like he has blinders on, like Buck is all there is, Buck writhing and begging for it on this couch.

“You’re killing me,” Eddie says. It comes out rough, and Buck’s squirming a bit more now, hips rolling in tight little circles like he’s trying to be good and failing, so Eddie lets his hand drag away from Buck’s hip, down his thigh, squeezing; thumb brushing along the inseam of his sweatpants, inching up, up, until Buck’s mouth opens around a gasp, and just as Eddie finds him— yeah, hard and aching, he thinks about how, once Buck’s all the way healed, he wants to ruin him all over again, sink his teeth into his bottom lip and tug, mark him up all flushed and pink with the burn of his stubble instead. Make up for all the lost time.

He sucks in a breath, a deep inhale to calm his nerves. Except all it really does is make him breathe in Buck, both of them panting into each other’s mouth. Eddie wants to kiss him so badly he’s about to crawl out of his skin. Instead he swallows around the spit that’s already pooling in his mouth, lets one corner of his lips pull into a grin, and finds his way back to himself. “Or,” he picks his game and the words back up again, and his fingers are creeping up to the waistband of Buck’s pants, now, pulling it down as slowly as he can make himself, “here,” and then Buck’s saying, sobbing, “God, Eddie,” and, settling between Buck’s legs, Eddie ends up forgetting about words completely.

[effervescentwolf]

pls become cannon pls become cannon pls becom cannon pls-

[effervescentwolf]

Tidbit Tuesday

i was tagged by @elvensorceress and @the-hwaelweg - thank you! have a bit of mildly NSFW buddie! :D

"I—the thing is, I'm straight," Eddie says. Buck's first, automatic reaction is a kind of incredulous fury, flashover hot. Lying here mostly naked in Eddie's bed, with Eddie's spit still drying on his skin—he wants to snap. Wants to bite back something sharp-edged and as cruel as he can make it. But Eddie doesn't say anything else. He doesn't fumble his way out of the bed or babble any more stupid excuses at Buck; he just stays there, with his jeans shoved down and his softening cock absurdly vulnerable where it rests against his inner thigh. His cheeks are red and his eyes are wide, and he looks—lost, he looks lost, and suddenly all Buck can think of is that hot, bright little restaurant, the way it felt like everyone was staring at him even before Eddie showed up. His own voice, too loud, too bright, we're gonna go find some hot chicks, and the look on Tommy's face that made him feel clumsily huge and about two inches tall, all at once. "Okay," he says instead, rolling over onto his back. Eddie's eyes skitter down his body; his flush deepens. Buck makes no effort to hide himself. Eddie doesn't look away.

no-pressure tagging @pairofraggedclaws, @livesbetweenpages, @semperama, @thirdwheelravi, and anyone else who wants to play!

[effervescentwolf]

The thing about the Buck and Eddie relationship is that Christopher is Eddie's son, that relationship might come under strain but there's a fundamental connection there that can't be taken away from him. And that means Eddie can play almost not quite never putting a label on it partners with Buck in the security that whatever happens there he has a family that is all his and can't be taken away from him.

But Buck only has the almost, and Buck wants a partner and a family and the security of it being real. Being involved with Eddie and Chris makes him happy but the unlabelled nature of it means it can't fully meet his need for something that is definitively his. None of his previous relationships have really challenged the limbo of being almost part of the Diaz family, though Tommy noticed that he was competing for space, but Buck can't have his own family for real when at the same time being an unofficial part of Eddie's.

So Eddie could happily go on just as they always have been, but Buck has just had his nose rubbed in the fact that when it comes to the important stuff he'll be left alone and that their comfortable status quo isn't permanent which means that something has to change.

[effervescentwolf]

the top ten songs on my current 'on repeat' playlist on spotify, tagged by @kithmet and true to what you said. this is completely different than yours lol

halfway down (matrix & futurebound remix) - SLANDER, matrix & futurebound, ashley drake

my dreams - aaron shirk, soar, nicole apollonio

in the cold - william black, dabin, james droll

stay with me - aesttc

thinking bout you - ariana grande

picture - aaron shirk, meggie york

shade of you - N3WPORT, babe., kevin wolfe

between broken - dabin

crush - david archuleta

rocket - the army, the navy

tagging @littlefreakbuckley, @sonofatoasterwaffle, @playinginthunderstorms, and @goodthingscomeinthrees as well as anyone else who would like to jump in <3

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keep thinking about those screenshots of buck's house after bobby died. no flowers. no one sent him flowers because it wasn't his dad who died, not really. just like chris leaving wasn't his son leaving, not really. eddie going to texas wasn't his partner leaving, not really. buck occupies all of these spaces unofficially and he knows who he is to them but when they leave he's always, always left with nothing. again. most important relationships of his life and he's empty-handed and wondering if he'd imagined it all in the first place.

[effervescentwolf]

tmi stands for tell me immediately

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eddie's confessions + oscillograms

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A bunch of my blue and black stylized horses, all painted in calligraphy ink. Some of these are a bit on the old side but I thought it would be nice to post them all together anyway.

Edit: forgot to mention but gouache was used to correct any mistakes.