#keen loft

[bostonrealtors]

220 Spencer Ave Unit 210 Chelsea MA 02150. Keen Lofts!

[teletubbyinlipstick]

Hybrid!Poly TF141 x Reader Rambles

Once again, I'm unsure what to say. I get high, I get horny for these men, and then I hallucinate scenarios with said men. Please enjoy, please feel free to send in anything about these boys! Requests are open! I really like this idea, and I might continue to add on to it. https://www.tumblr.com/teletubbyinlipstick/760241391145238528/more-hybridpoly-tf141-x-reader-pleaaasseeeee?source=share heres the second part!

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OwlHybridAU!

Captain Price has big wings. When spread, they're just shy of 28 ft. A beautiful array of ash and brindle the feathers are easily the length of your arm. He keeps them tucked nicely, looking smaller than they are. On the field, if it ever comes down to it and he needs his wings, the look on enemies' faces when they spread is, in Soaps words,"so fuckin hot."

No one disagrees.

Johnny's wings are a bit smaller, around 23ft they're a deep honey brown. In the light, in-between the feathers, an indigo blue shines just slightly. His are more pointy at the end, a ripple effect used for disguising. Simon loves nothing more than to preen him.

Usually it ends with Johnny face down, high whimpers in his throat.

Speaking of Simon, he has the biggest wings in TF141 at 30ft. They're midnight black with streaks of white. When he's moving fast, they look almost like lightning across a black sky. His second layer of feathers is a dark gray. It's hard to notice the difference, but once you do, it's harder not to notice. He's intimidating. He knows.

It's his kink.

Gaz has the prettiest wings, 20.5 feet, and the sweetest cocoa color. He has dirty blonde undertones that fade into pure auburn. His feathers get ruffled a little easily, and the boys love teasing him for it.

It's a group effort to preen his wings.

Now theres you, new to the group, younger than them at early-mid twenties. Assigned as a mate for the boys by the government in hopes of reproducing strong genes. You're a sweet little thing, lithe with a pudgy tummy. Your wings are only 15ft. And very fluffy, a gorgeous cream with strawberry blonde highlights. The edges appear light tawny.

You're very beautiful. And the boys fall in love almost immediately upon receiving your file. They nest for you, soft blankets and pillows and sweatshirts placed in the rec room for a cozy habitat. They're keen to meet you, forgoing preening their feathers the night before in hopes of pack bonding tomorrow with you.

So imagine when you end up being the most reclusive, quiet church mouse they've ever met. You speak maybe 3 sentences in total at the meeting. You were quick to bat Johnny's hand away when he reached for your shoulder for a friendly pat. Feathers ruffling just slightly.

They backed off.

Simon stood quiet the whole time, eyes zeroed in on you. Assessing.

They showed you the loft to your room. Simon kept a polite distance, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed. Gaz and Johnny were waiting for Price to make the first move and let you know about the nest they had secured for you in the rec area. But when you politely and quickly excused yourself and darted inside, closing the door with the resounding click. They realized you weren't going to the nest. Nor were you going to the rec room in general.

They slept in their shared king bed. The nest left cold and barren. Tears were wiped from Gaz's eyes, sweet cooing coming from the bed as the boys sought solstice for each other.

No one dried your tears, and you stayed curled in the corner of your bed. Scared. Alone. And unsure what the future will bring.

[agoraphxnics]

all of the love on my previous guard dog werewolf!141 x witch!fem!reader drabble has been so heartwarming 🥰 ty all so much. genuinely, i needed a boost in confidence in my writing. and 100 followers?! crazy.

so obviously, here’s more!

prev ———— next

cw: (reader eats meat)

one morning, you woke up to the sound of birds chirping about and sunlight filtering in through the curtains—nothing out of the ordinary. you keened as you sit up, stretching your arms over your head to shake off the night’s aches. sliding off the comforter and into your house slippers, your teeth clicked together to beckon your sweet black cat and familiar, harlow, to your side. when she didn’t come immediately, you shouted, “harlow?”

again, no reply. how odd. the cat was normally in your bed upon waking, and if she wasn’t, she would be scampering gleefully into your room for pets (and food). your brow furrowed, glancing around to find her. you crouched down and found her golden eyes blinking back at you from the shadows. clearly, she was on edge.

“hey, baby, what’s wrong?” you cooed, reaching out to her. she backed farther into her corner.

a loud bang! caused you both to jump. the noise sounded like pots and pans clambering together. adrenaline pumped through your veins and rang in your ears as you got up and slowly crept toward the door. you carefully opened it wider and listened for more.

“-didn’t know it was there!”

“fuckin’ git.”

people. people were whispering your cottage. many emotions swirled in your mind: fear, confusion, rage. you grasped your spellbook sat atop your bookshelf next to the door and walked to the top of the stairs. the scent of hearty meats filled your nose. with a sharp, anxious inhale, you shouted, “i’m giving you all ten seconds to leave this house before i turn you into toads.”

two men scrambled to the front entry to look up at you from your loft, and you recognized them. “sorry, miss! we didn’t mean to scare you!” the one with dark skin and a lovely smile announced, hands raised in defense.

“yes, we jus’ wanted to surprise you ‘n’ thank you.” the older one with mutton chops and soft eyes rumbled.

you blinked in disbelief. these were two of the four werewolves you had been helping with an ailment, and after a month of hard work, you’d finally arrived at some sort of answer. there’s no way to cure lycanthropy, but giving them something to ease that terrible pain was a privilege you didn’t want to take for granted. and apparently, judging by them trespassing on your cottage with dopey smiles on their faces and wagging wolf tails, they weren’t going to either.

“why on earth do you think breaking into my home while i’m sleeping is acceptable?!” you berate, resting your book by your side as you stomp down the steps.

“i-i know it’s unconventional, but we wanted to make you breakfast.” the first one, kyle as he’d introduced himself as, said sheepishly. his eyes held his voice’s remorse, but they still glimmered with cheekiness.

“please don’ be mad at my pack, miss. they feel indebted to you for all you’ve done for us. as do i,” added their leader, john.

you sighed. if you were a normal human, perhaps you would be more livid at the whole invading your home thing. but you were familiar with werewolf antics, and if they feel strongly about something, there’s not much that can be done to stop them. once you reached the bottom, you could see the other two, johnny and simon, giving your kitchen that mesmerizing smell. simon slaved over the fire, stirring what appeared to be a stew, while johnny was trying to hang some pots back on the wall. you eyed john pointedly.

“i’m sorry for startling you,” he apologized—for both johnny and their burglary.

“well, i suppose i should thank you all for wanting to repay me, but it’s really not necessary. you’ve already paid me in gold, and—is that venison?”

the smell permeated through your nose and straight to your soul, eyes alit with hope.

“yes, angel. we caught and prepared it for you last night.”

warmth fills your chest at the prospect of them doing all of this for you. it was so sweet and thoughtful, so…domestic. “i…this…” you were at a loss.

“‘s not too much, hun,” kyle finished your thoughts. he sauntered over to rest a hand on your shoulder. “you’ve done more for us than you can ever know.”

prev ———— next

i would’ve written more, but writer’s block was starting to hit and i got bad news this morning that i didn’t get into an organization i really wanted to 😔 it sucks that it’s basically a popularity contest.

[saturnville]

smallville hold em | clark kent

Pairing: Smallville!Clark Kent x Black Fem OC!Zara Zane Warning: None. Suggestive-ish AN: Yeah, the title is corny, and what about it? Reminder: Likes are excellent, but comments, reblogs, and asks are highly encouraged. Enjoy!

The attic of the Kent Farm became the sanctuary she needed when she wasn’t in the midst of four walls in her quaint church building. It was her home away from home. She was used to a different cooking style, but the smell of homemade apple pie with ice cream after a hearty meal of a unique dish she’d never tried had her return every Wednesday night until it became her second home. 

Mr. and Mrs. Kent always insisted the doors were wide open whenever she wanted to stop by. Their invitation had her peeking through the screen door with a smile. “Bad time?” she asked with a small smile. 

“Never. Dinner’ll be ready soon,” answered Mrs. Clark with a warm smile that reminded her of her mother's kindness. “Clark’s in the loft.” With a nod, a side hug for Mr. Kent, and an air kiss to Mrs. Kent, she scurried out of the kitchen and jogged toward the barn, eager for her eyes to land on the man who’d occupied her mind like a bad habit. 

A warm spring breeze guided her on the short commute to the loft on the Kent farm. The doors were cracked, leaving just enough room for her body to slide through. When she entered, her gaze lifted toward the loft where Clark stood bent over numerous scattered boxes, rummaging and digging around curiously. She smiled softly. 

To her right, there was a box labeled family photos. She assumed polaroids and digitals from his youth to his current age filled the cardboard box fully. To the left was miscellaneous. And out of it peeked a dark, hollow rim. Her footsteps were quiet as she inched toward the box. She plucked the item off the top, tilting her head as she registered it as a cowboy hat. A bit thick, slightly bent from years of use, then supposed disregard. 

With one swift movement, her straight hair was made frizzy by the new accessory she found joy in. A low rattle caught her attention. Clark bent over another box and was too focused to notice at first. She leaned against the steps, eyes narrowed with a soft, playful smirk as she took him in. He had always been easy on the eyes, but today…today was different. Today, he was hers. Not Smallville’s unknown hero who saved its inhabitants from the monster of the day. Hers.

“Look what I found, cowboy,” she called out, her voice soft but teasing. A clatter from colliding objects filled her ears. His body tense, that strong back of his, and he turned slowly. His expression flickered between surprise and something she couldn’t quite read. Her heart skipped a beat like a pebble across the water. How he looked at her—parted lips with a soft gaze—warmed her. 

“Well, look at you, sweet girl,” he said, voice low like a murmur, almost playful. He stood to his full height, arms folded across his chest as his blue eyes lingered on her, taking in the sight of her in the hat sitting just a little too big on her head. Maybe it’d fit better when her hair was braided or freed naturally. 

“You like?" She circled slowly, offering a full view of how the new addition transformed her. "I could get used to this.” She said breathlessly as if she were in awe of the newfound feeling of being a country girl in a small town in Kansas. The smile on her face was as soft as her perfume that wafted through the air. 

His eyes, unashamedly, passed over her figure in awe. Her school clothes—a T-shirt with jeans and sandals—had been replaced by a snug tank top and little daisy dukes she paired with an old pair of boots, showing off a pair of long, brown legs that glistened under the sun. His fingers twitched, itching to feel the heat of her body against his. 

"I do," Clark keened with a slow nod. He stepped over a carelessly tossed item, and she met him halfway, standing in front of the giant of a man she called her boyfriend. Clark's hands fell from his chest to readjust the hat on her head. She giggled like a girl in middle school who her crush had complimented. "Looks like you belong out here. Farm life might suit you well, cowgirl." 

Oh, she'd have something to ride later, for sure. She smiled wider. "And be out here with my favorite farm boy?" She placed her hands on his broad chest, fingers clenching around his white shirt, damp from work hours in the hot barn. Her eyebrow quipped, and her lips raised in a slight smirk. "I'll take it any day." 

White teeth peeked behind rosy lips. A large hand slid around her back, palming her waist before settling on the curve of her hip. "S'that right?" Tension hung in the air, thick and awaiting to be sliced. Her seemingly shy boyfriend was not all that folks assumed. Smart and handsome, everyone knew. But the teasing, sensual Cassanova he was behind closed doors was a well-kept secret meant for just them. He had her wrapped around his finger, and she loved it. 

Clark's hand left her waist, much to her dismay, and crept slowly up her stomach. His thumb tweaked the silver ring in her belly before pausing at her chest. His fingers lingered beneath the fabric of her shirt, but not too long, and passed up her collarbone, toying with the gold necklace. She exhaled shakily, and her eyes fluttered closed. Each inch he moved felt like a countdown toward a long-awaited reward she didn't know she'd earned. Soon, his long fingers cupped her neck, pulling her chin so she'd meet his eyes. Her pulse quickened as his fingers skated across her skin, sending a wave of desire through her body. She wanted to erase the space between them but stayed still, caught between the dance of passion and restraint. 

"You sure about that?" he countered, voice hushed. He lowered his lips to hers, his brushing against hers, but never giving in to what she wanted. Her fingers fell to his waist, clenching the fabric of his shirt tightly. Whatever game he was playing sent her into overdrive, and she needed a release before she short-circuited. 

She held his gaze, their closeness too intense to be resolved by a simple kiss just minutes before dinner. “Yeah,” she whispered, a soft sigh escaping her lips. “Always.”

A pleased hum passed his lips, which she swallowed with pride. His tongue darted out to caress her bottom lip. She whimpered—music to his ears. A loud crash from downstairs snapped them back to reality, breaking the spell between them. She pulled away first, and the spell shattered. Without another word, she turned toward the stairs.

"You owe me dessert," she called over her shoulder. Clark was on her tail like white on rice, eyebrow raised. "And no, it's not apple pie." 

Clark's eyebrows lowered, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Is that so?" He leaned in closer, his voice low, teasing. "Well, I guess I’ll have to make it up to you then, won’t I?" With a mischievous tap on her behind, he sent her into a fit of giggles, the sound like music to his ears. His smile remained smug and satisfied, knowing she’d get exactly what she wanted—maybe even more.

[ch33z3grits]

Crimson Obsessions | A Terry Richmond Vampire Series

(coming soon) summary: After a steamy encounter with a sinfully handsome man in New Orleans, Camille DeWaterson returns to her life as a soon-to-be-married paralegal in Houston, Texas. But the incident becomes difficult to forget when the otherworldly stranger waltzes into her law firm, bringing a series of strange and enticing events with him. Terrence “Terry” Richmond, is an incredibly disciplined, calculating, and ambitious individual, at least… that’s what he is to the average mortal. But in reality, he’s a bloodthirsty supernatural with a keen interest for money, power, and beautiful women. When the gorgeous Camille DeWaterson slips from his grasp one fateful night in New Orleans, he vows to track her down and make her his bride. It doesn’t matter to him that she already has a fiancé or a commitment to join two families together. He isn’t going to rest until she belongs to him… body, mind and soul.

pairing: Aaron Pierre as Terry Richmond x Justine Skye as Camille DeWaterson

a/n: hi :) I saw a request for a vampire Terry Richmond fic where Terry is a home wrecker. I waited and waited for someone to pick it up but no one has so I said let me give it a try lmaoo. I’m fairly new to tumblr and I haven’t written on here before, so please be gentle with me. I’ll try my best to include the right warnings and tags. Also, I haven’t written a fanfic in over 8 years 😭 so again, please be kind. This is just something I want to do to have an outlet during my last semester of grad school. A few heads up for this story:

it will be at least 15 parts

I plan to update every Friday

each part will be long (5k+ words)

the story will have dark themes, including dark sexual themes. This is for 18+ audiences only

For now, here is a snippet of the story. I hope you all enjoy :)

warnings: stalking, breaking and entering, light smut? (panty stealing, panty sniffing), mentions of alcohol and drugs

Terry knew it was twisted. Breaking into his colleague's apartment to find the best way to ruin his life was abhorrent by human standards. But he wasn’t human. He hasn’t been human for centuries. So he didn’t give a fuck. Aston McCoy was the one thing standing in the way of him getting his hands on his prize, Camille DeWaterson.

Holding her.

Taking care of her.

Fucking her.

Worshipping her.

When Terry first placed his eyes on Camille during her sister’s bachelorette festivities in New Orleans a month ago, he vowed to move heaven and earth to have her all to himself. So if he had to pursue a little breaking and entering to set his plan into motion, so be it.

Terry's footsteps were silent to the average ear as he sauntered around the luxurious loft. He gazed at the expensive minimalist furniture, carefully curated wall decor, and the artificial plants that were strategically placed in the living area. Sterile, boring, and safe. The signs of a young white man who desperately wanted to be taken seriously and belong in the upper echelons of society. Terry smirked and shook his head. Throughout his long, long life, Terry had run into men like Aston at every turn. Slave owners, military officials, mob bosses… white men who had the world at their feet but were always at the risk of slipping and falling. All it took was one blow from Terry and they were tumbling to the ground. Aston McCoy would be no different.

Although he was amused by the pathetic apartment, Terry grew irritated as he stalked through the space. There were no signs that McCoy had a vice as he rummaged through drawers and closets. No bottles of booze. No baggies of coke. No anonymous flash drives. Nothing that could be easily used against him. Terry scoffed, feeling his eyebrows push together as he approached the last doorway in the apartment. McCoy’s bedroom. He entered the room lazily, expecting further disappointment. But his eyes widened as they settled on the central point of the room: the bed. On the left side, McCoy was bundled under a mountain of covers, his hair peeking out at the top being the only indication that it was him. But on the right side… laid Camille DeWaterson, looking like an absolute angel. Her body was completely exposed due to her fiancé's selfish hogging of the covers. McCoy’s actions at any other time would have Terry seeing red. But instead, they accidentally gave Terry the most pleasant and mouth-watering surprise he could have hoped for tonight.

Camille laid flat on her back, the side of her face perfectly highlighted by the moonlight pouring in as she snuggled into the crook of her arm. Her gorgeous dark brown skin seemed to glisten in the moon’s glow, asking, begging to be licked and sucked and marked. She was mostly bare, wearing nothing but a soft white satin nightgown that dipped dangerously low into her cleavage and was hiked up around her waist. Terry's focus on the task at hand faltered as his dick turned to stone. His tongue darted out of his mouth to moisten his lips hidden under his black ski mask. Desperate to give himself some form of relief, he palmed his bulge through his black sweatpants as he moved closer to Camille’s side of the bed. With a better view of the slumbering princess, Terry's eyes wandered to Camille’s pussy, tucked away from his sight by a lacy white thong, a present he ached to open. As if in a trance, Terry crouched down to run his gloved thumb over the waistband of Camille’s panties, careful not to awaken her.

You have no idea what you do to me, he thought, hooking a finger into the lacy fabric. His eyes snapped toward her face as he began to slowly tug the garment down. He was halfway down her thighs when she stirred, whimpering lightly. Everything in him froze except his dick. His dick twitched as he replayed the sweet sound in his head. Camille’s brows furrowed momentarily, but her face relaxed and her eyes remained closed. Terry waited a beat to make sure she was still asleep. But has dick, heavy with excitement, beckoned him to continue removing her panties. So as swiftly as he could, Terry pulled the small fabric over her knees, down to her ankles, and then carefully slipped them past her feet. In a frenzy, Terry tugged the ski mask below his mouth and pulled the souvenir to his nose, inhaling deeply. Drool slid past his lips as he breathed in her scent. He held back a feral rumble in his chest, feeling his eyes flicker from their usual blue-gray to a deep red. Now isn't the time to lose control, he thought, suppressing the darkest parts of himself. With a shake of his head, he tucked Camille’s panties into the pocket of his sweatpants, sending another shockwave through his lower region.

He backed away from Camille’s side of the bed, his eyes never leaving her sweet face. He was just about to pivot to walk back into the living area. But he heard the slightest vibration from the left side of the room. Terry cocked his head to the side and zeroed in his focus on the phone on McCoy's nightstand. What kind of notifications could he be getting at two in the morning? He swiftly moved towards the phone, gently picking it up. He flipped it so the screen faced him and began to read the series of notifications. Banners from DraftKings, FanDuel, Prizepicks and other betting apps displayed several different messages:

Bet $20 and get 3x back on earnings!

Hurry now to get $1000 in casino bonuses!

Bet now, get instant deposit on all earnings!

Terry chuckled lightly, his eyes flickering to McCoy and Camille to briefly check if they heard him. They hadn’t. So you’re a gambling addict huh, he grinned widely as he glanced down at Aston. I can definitely work with that. Terry carefully returned the phone to its original position. Then he crossed the room once more, returning to Camille's side. He hummed slightly as he softly gripped her right leg, adjusting it to give him a perfect view of her now exposed pussy. Camille sighed slightly, shifting onto her side, unknowingly moving closer to Terry. Terry smirked, kneeling so his head was at the same level as hers. “Don’t worry, baby. You’ll be all mine soon enough,” he whispered, hoping that his words slipped into her dreams. She sighed in response, still in a deep slumber. With a final scan of her face, Terry pulled his ski mask back over nose, shoved his hands into his pockets, and turned to leave the bedroom. He grinned wildly as he began to conjure up the most sinister and wicked ideas to get Camille DeWaterson into his arms and into his bed… forever.

[lcvemiyuki]

"close to his heart" | hinata, hq

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓊝 ࿐𓂃𓂃𓂃

content: you attend an intense and crucial match for the jackals and discover a certain wing spiker wears his promise ring in secret to give him good luck during a game

warnings: fluff, established relationship, timeskip!msby hinata

character(s): hinata

word count: 590

a/n: i saw a fanart of this exact scenario and just HAD to write something about it because ughhhhhhh. like that was me fr in the stands. (if i find out who the artist is i will add it in the future!). also, i know jewelry is prohibited to wear during matches, i don’t know what the protocols are, but for the sake of this writing lets just pretend if anything🤗

art creds: @/sunfluff on ig @/ah_e0k on twt (inspired this scenario)

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

'wham!'

the ball ricocheted off the ground, sending the crowd into a frenzied uproar.

the match was a nail-biter, with each team clinging to the game with pure willpower. the players' shoes squeaked in protest against the polished floor; their faces glistened with the sheen of sweat, a tangible testament to their craving for victory.

in the midst of all this, you knew that every match held a special significance for the orange-haired decoy—every single point, every last serve, it all mattered.

as the jackals were nearing the final set of the match, it was apparent that hinata was exhausted, his energy nearly depleted. but adrenaline forced his legs to move just a bit longer, his thigh muscles searing and flexing with every strenuous movement.

all of his senses were heightened.

he became intensely aware of a certain necklace he had tucked under his jersey as well.

the realization of its presence served to slow his fast-beating heart just enough to keep him grounded.

the closest, tangible thing to him wasn't his teammates or the high-speed ball whirling toward him. 

it was you.

wearing his promise to you on a silver chain around his neck was a risky move, but it was the only thing that seemed to calm his nerves.

the game demanded his attention once again as the blond setter lofted a perfect set in his direction. with a sudden burst of renewed energy, hinata leaped for the quick attack, his hand connecting with the ball with infallible precision and force.

the resulting smack echoed ominously through the gym. before anyone could fully comprehend what had happened, the match was over.

the crowd was only a few seconds late in reacting, their cheers filling the stadium as the realization dawned. the shrill sound of the whistle signaled the winning point, initiating a wave of exhilaration that swept through the stands.

"yeah!" hinata yelled, triumphantly balling a fist into the air. his teammates, brimming with uncontained excitement, rushed over with their hands delivering congratulatory slaps on his back.

as the match drew to a close, you finally allowed yourself to release the breath you'd been holding. next to you, the younger, orange-haired girl—her face glowing with pride for her older brother—jumped up and down with joy.

both of you were clad in jackal merch, his number visible on your jerseys. despite blending in with the sea of fans, a pair of keen eyes found you anyway.

after sharing a celebratory hug with natsu, you turned your gaze back down the stadium. you were searching for the mvp of the night—only to find that he was already staring up at you.

at that moment, the deafening noise levels of the stadium seemed to fade into insignificance. it felt as if only you two were there— as if, he was telepathically communicating with you. a loving smile spread across his face as his hand reached for his neck. slowly, he removed the skin-toned bandages to reveal the shiny, silver-chained necklace and his promise ring to you dangling on it.

you gasped, the sound getting caught in your throat and leaving you speechless.

"he was wearing his ring this whole time?" your fingers immediately touch your own, fiddling with it.

as if he could read your mind, hinata’s smile grew larger. he brought the silver ring to his lips in a tender gesture—a small peck that resonated in your heart.

this ring was his good luck charm, the one thing he wanted close to his heart. and for that, he was willing to break a few rules.

𓇼𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆉𓇼

want more?

⤷ masterlist.

[quintessenceofdust88]

Wip Wednesday

I was tagged by the incredible @bidisasterevankinard @laundryandtaxesworld and @owlgirl495 (thank you darlings! ♥) and my brain has been a big tease lately, telling me 'Ohhh you have four wips you wanna work on? Too bad, here's a new one instead.'. So this is the start of a new story that, for now, I have named Sunny days, and it's after season 2. It's an alternate first meeting but I haven't gotten to the meeting part yet lol. I hope you guys like it ♥ (thank you @unhingedangstaddict and @agentpeggycartering for listening to me yap about this idea and help me make it take shape!!) DISCLAIMER: I'm taking medical and legal liberties with this. I've done some research, but I am sure there'll be inaccuracies regarding limb loss and the process for getting a service dog in LA.

For the first few weeks after losing his leg to a crushing accident with a fire truck, Buck's days are stormy and gray. Maybe not on the outside—though he couldn’t really say, since he spends most of his time indoors. First at the hospital after the amputation surgery, then at the rehab center, and finally, after eight long weeks, at the new ground floor apartment Maddie picked out for him, because the loft he'd just rented was no longer an option and he didn't want to go back to anyone's couch.

But inside? It's pouring. Constantly. It rains when phantom pain sears through him at night. It drizzles when he breaks up with Ali, because he knows she won't do it now, even though it's very clear that she wants to, that his is a lot more than what she signed up for.

It positively thunders when he sees the guilt in Bobby's eyes the first time he looks at Buck's stump, the way his captain's voice thickens when he promises Buck's place at the station will be waiting for him even though neither of them knows if he'll ever be able to take it back for now. It howls when Buck lies awake at the rehab center, and then at this alien home that's supposed to be his now, staring at the ceiling, wondering if his life will ever go back to normal. If he’s lost more than just a leg.

It’s a storm in his soul, and he doesn’t know how to send it away.

Until the day his personal sunshine arrives, wagging her tail and blinking up at him with the sweetest golden eyes he’s ever seen. Her name is Sunny, and Buck thinks she might just help him to find joy in life again.

She was a suggestion from Buck's physician when he noticed Buck wasn't really keen on the idea of living with his sister, or anyone else, really. Not when he had just taken the first steps towards having his own place.

"Well, if you're planning to live on your own, you'll need at least some help. Have you considered the idea of a service dog?"

And Buck had jumped into the idea right away. Bobby, who had seen him smile for the first time since the surgery when he was looking at the pictures of dogs in the organization website, had jumped even faster, and he was the one to drive Buck there to choose the best candidate.

Sunny had been right there, a yellow bow clipped to her ear, her golden hair well brushed under a neon 'IN TRAINING' vest, and she had looked at Buck as if she'd been waiting for him all her life. The other dogs were very cute, but to him, there was no question. Sunny was meant to be his.

Np tagging @unhingedangstaddict @agentpeggycartering @dark-alice-lilith @aesthetictarlos @trombonechurchill and whoever else would like to play ♥

[watchyourbuck]

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?

[wordsarelife]

—𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞: 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

pairing: theo nott x fem!reader

summary: theo and you used to be friends. that was a long time ago. now you pretty much hate each other and theo uses his feelings about you to write a song!

warnings: i don’t think there are any! let me know if that’s not true :)

note: here it is!! finally the prologue is here! don’t worry the actual chapters will be much longer. we just needed a starting point! hope you enjoy!!!

word count: 0.9k

masterlist | next part

there was a single path connecting the backyard of the two houses, making it almost hard not to run into each other. despite that, you had sworn yourself to never set a foot on said path ever again, always straying away before your feet could touch the concrete. 

you hadn't been watching him, but it seemed that theo was doing the same. you had never once spotted him wandering across the yard. 

because your eyes were still fixated on the path, you didn't notice the movement in the window across from you, only looking up, when you heard the knocking through your opened window. theo was standing there, watching you with a smirk, before he reached for his pen and wrote something. 

he grabbed his bag, winking at you, before he slapped the paper against the window, turning around and walking out of his room before you were able to react. 

'bye, pixie'  he had written, making you sigh. he had called you that ever since one fateful day in your childhood. because, believe it or not, theo and you had been friends once.

you had been seven when you tried to cut your own hair, much to your mother's dismay, who had dragged you to a hairstylist the same day, eager to fix the mess you had created. there wasn't much to save or fix so you ended up with a rather horrible pixie cut for the next few months.

your hair had eventually grown out to it's normal length, the pixie fading away before you could even start to be ashamed of it, but theo wasn't one to let go of things quickly, so he had been calling you that to this day.

and since your friendship had ended, making room for the hatred towards each other, he seemed to just get a rise of the way it bothered you so much. 

you rolled your eyes, pushing back the feeling of annoyance as you dragged your curtain close so you wouldn't have to look at his window anymore. 

✦•〰〰〰〰〰★🎸☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★〰〰〰〰〰〰•✦

theo arrived at the garage sooner than he would've predicted, lazily leaning his bike against the wall, before he walked inside. 

"you're early" mattheo noted, while taking a look at his phone. 

"don't flatter yourself" theo smiled, before he ruffled mattheo's hair, sitting down on the couch beside his best friend. "what about the others?" 

"enzo forget his guitar, blaise and draco went with him to get it" 

"he forgot it again?" theo sighed, leaning back into the cushion. 

"he's been acting up quite a lot" mattheo shrugged "maybe it's the stress"

theo shrugged, before he grabbed his bag, taking out the red leather book. "i have something to finish" 

"another song?" mattheo furrowed his brows, before he stood up and walked across the room. 

"maybe" theo shrugged "i've been working on something" his mind wandered off. 

"might not be the worst idea to put out another single right after the album. we'll stay relevant that way" mattheo pointed out and theo nodded absentmindedly. "i'll leave you to it" mattheo walked in the direction of the door, a towel in his hand. he was probably going swimming in the lake that was right next to the garage. 

the garage was more of a loft than an actual garage. but it had always been called that and every member of cursed legacy was rather keen on sticking to things. 

"we are relevant" theo argued, right before mattheo snuck out the door. he could not hear his answer, if mattheo had even answered anything. 

theo sighed as his eyes fell back on the unfinished song in his book. the words had fallen right out of his mind and on the page it seemed. somehow this song had been easier to write than any other he had written. and that had been almost every song on cursed legacy's first album: neon nights.

sometimes mattheo or blaise had helped him. enzo and draco often had ideas for a few lines, but ultimately most of their songs were written by theo. 

he jotted down more and more lines, adding the chorus, the bridge. occasionally he stopped writing to play a few notes on draco's keyboard, making sure the lines were fitting the melody. in just less than thirty minutes he had a finished song. 

loud noises in front of the door made theo look up from the book. the door was opened by blaise and he entered the garage closely followed by draco and enzo and also mattheo, who had probably run into them right outside. 

"hey" enzo greeted "sorry that we're late, honestly my fault, but—“

theo shook his head, interrupting the boy "it's fine, enzo. i want you guys to listen to something" 

"sure" draco pushed enzo forward, so he had enough room to sit down on the couch. the rest of their group took their respective seats as well, ready to listen to whatever theo was wanting to show them. 

they all listened attentively as theo played the notes on the keyboard, eventually adding the lyrics he had written down, until they were presented with the whole song. they looked at each other, smiling in silent agreement. 

"what do you think?" theo asked, but his friends did not answer. they all got up, taking their instruments and resuming to their positions next to him. 

"what are you waiting for?" draco asked when theo had not moved to stand in front of the microphone.

"let's record it right now" enzo added when he noticed theo's confused look. 

theo smiled upon his friends enthusiam. "sure" he nodded, grabbing his mic and stepping into the middle of their little circle.

thank you so much for reading!!

taglist:

@7s3ven @madi-potter @shereadsandcries @getosbeloved @mischieftom @wolfstar-jpg @t00thfairy20 @chcrrysblog @aestramjackson @elina3011 @kr1nqu @hopeless-y @mitskiswift99 @fallingblackveils @ahead-fullofdreams @helendeath @schaebickel @chubbychasermattheotruther @punkprincess03 @subparslytherin @girlbooklover555

(leave a comment if you want to be added/ removed from the taglist)

[starberrybrunch]

Like an Angel, 01

Friday, May 17th... 1996

"It's just a party."

"I don't know," Shauna responded with a sense of wavering behind her voice, checking out the look of the jean skirt she'd slipped on in her reflection. "It feels weird to just go like...nothing happened."

The three friends sat upstairs in the loft space Shauna had created into a cozy enough bedroom area. Lava lamps and low lighting shed warmth across the knick-knacks and framed photographs decorating every surface. Film photographs of the trio were stuck to the mirror of her vanity, bright smiles from Jackie and Shauna's recent soccer matches with a cheer-uniform clad Gracelyn in the middle of them- cheeks painted with yellow and blue hearts.

Teasing the back of her honey-blonde hair gingerly, Jackie kept her gaze forward, looking into herself. "It's not like skipping a party's gonna un-fuck Alli's leg."

Gracelyn sat on the floor near Shauna's messy bed, reluctantly touching up her makeup in the reflection of an antique full-body mirror. "Jackie, a little more sensitivity could go a long way with that," she prodded, lipgloss applicator in hand. "If Shauna feels weird too then maybe we shouldn't go tonight, we've got an early plane anyway-"

"Besides," Jackie interrupted, turning in her cushioned seat to look at her slightly younger twin. "It's tradition."

In Jackie's keen tone, was an unspoken ask... to not fight her on this.

Yet the visceral image of the bones poking out from the flesh of the underclassman's knee was still too fresh for comfort in her mind, jutting out in a sea of flesh. The blonde nearly winced at the resurgence of her previous state of queasiness.

Earlier in the day, when the afternoon sun was still high and beaming, she'd been sitting in the bleachers after her practice and waiting to ride home with Jackie and Shauna, when the scene unfolded. From the short distance, she'd heard the younger girl's screams without question, clutching her leg to her chest in hysterics. With one wrong move, the girl's soccer career was likely over.

The blonde in question let out a short breath, a bit huffy with her irritation. Gracelyn knew that despite her proximity to the two girls, she was the third in the friendship. Not the first or second, but the third. She'd be a bit on the nose to say her (minutely) older sister was domineering over Shauna as an individual, but she wouldn't be wrong to say that she was certainly...steered, by the wide-eyed girl's opinions. Where Jackie Taylor went, Shauna often followed, that much was undeniable. And where the two traveled, normally Gracelyn was trailing behind, not having much of her own in genuine friendships on her squad in the nature Jackie did.

"You know," Jackie lured, making herself comfortable sprawled over Shauna's messy bed, more of a glorified blanket nest than a properly made-up thing. "Randy's gonna be at the party tonight."

Shauna practically ignored her, continuing to peel through her outfits and pulling a sweater overtop of her blouse. She looked down to Gracelyn on the floor, putting her hands out in a way of theatrically requesting feedback. "Thoughts?"

The blonde looked up innocently to the tall girl standing before her, unable to resist the wrinkle in her nose at the flannel she'd selected. "Not my favorite, Ships. What about that blue one, from our awards brunch?"

Despite being twins, Gracelyn always knew that Jackie was the alpha sibling. She laid the precedent for everything the pair did. When Jackie started acing math classes, Gracelyn started tutoring for that ever so tricky 8th grade geometry. When Jackie volunteered at the nursing home, Gracelyn took double shifts at the soup kitchen. When Jackie started playing soccer, Gracelyn picked up a set of pom poms. When Jackie found a best friend in Shauna Shipman, soon did Gracelyn.

"Lynnie not," Jackie drawled, continuing to focus on the elephant so misplaced in conversation he wasn't on the property of the Shipman residence, let alone in the room alongside them. "He asked Jeff to ask me if you were gonna be there-"

"Randy?" Shauna questioned, peeling off the flannel the third girl had shut down, "Seriously?"

"I just thought you'd wanna know someone asked about you."

A hanger shoved on the rack produced a little clinking sound with the force of it.

Glancing upwards to her sister, Gracelyn was sending a pleading gaze toward her to let it rest. The Shauna and Randy thing was just... not something that needed to happen. "Jacks-"

A sense of defensiveness pricked the blonde girl's chest at Jackie's evident pushiness. Intentional or not, she could feel the way Shauna just shut off in the moment. Ever the chronic observer, she could practically feel the tenseness in her friend's physique. In her mind, she pondered how many times, behind closed doors on their rides to school, at practices the cheerleader wasn't privy to, or hell, in conversations with Jeff and Randy- this had come up.

Shauna abandoned another top to the floor of her closet, agitation clearly in the air.

"Shauna just, wear the red dress I gave you! The boob dress-"

"Maybe I don't wanna wear the red dress-" The doe-eyed girl turned, shoulders up with tension in her posture. The blonde sitting near her feet reached for the top that had slid to the ground at the moment, seeking the distraction of folding the fabric neatly.

The cotton fabric of the button-down was soft under her manicured fingertips, slightly pilling from its undoubted age and durations of washing. The youngest Taylor girl couldn't fixate enough on anything but the argument brewing and occurring now in the attic space, a little lurch settling in her stomach.

"-And I sure as hell don't wanna hook up with fucking Randy Walsh"

'Should I bring Ships a steamer?' she thought to herself, noticing the deep wrinkles in the sleeves nearing the cuffs. Ever avoidant of conflict, she sought to just entirely avoid the palpable discomfort in the atmosphere, despite the way it made her want to curl up underneath the blankets covering Shauna's mattress until she disappeared.

"Jesus, what crawled up your ass?" Jackie looked up, her eyebrows furrowed, clearly surprised by her best friend's reaction. Her younger sister looked at her with further confusion. Faltering in her speech, a rare occurrence in front of her best friend, "Wear what you want."

"Thanks," Shauna huffed, feeling a lack of energy to explain why she wasn't exactly pining over Randy Walsh, of all potential suitors.

Gracelyn extended her hand upwards, bearing a peace offering found in the pristinely folded garment.

If you looked at her sister's friendship with the Shipman girl, you'd see the proximity, the closeness, and think they must know each other inside and out, but sometimes Gracelyn found herself thinking the opposite. Shauna was in historical journals, seeking information about things around her, watching the stars at night. She was warmth and maturity, an intellectual-

Randy was...bound to be paying alimony by age 47.

Taking the shirt from the blonde's delicate hands, Shauna felt herself microscopically soften from the moment of conflict as the edge of her hand grazed against Gracelyn's. Pulling away, she returned to her closet, shuffling hangers in a desperate attempt to distract herself-

"You're probably right, about Randy anyway... I once saw him get outsmarted by an escalator."

Randy had also been found outside the girl's locker room after the squad met to practice for the incoming pep rally last week. Conveniently just 'caught in the wrong place,' while girls were in and out of the showers. In the few times they'd interacted since becoming a couple, Jeff didn't seem too bad for Jackie. He was nice enough to her older sister, if not just a bit aloof to things going on.

Feeling herself giggle weakly, the blonde chimed into her twin's remark. "I don't know that he can read past a seventh-grade level, Ships. I think the bar can be set a bit higher."

a/n: hi my lovelies, i had to split this and the party up because i think this 1k-1.5k word mark is going to be my sweet spot for chapters!! i cannot wait for next chapter 👀 this is my first yellowjackets fic and first time writing in about 4-5 years for fanfic and i am very pleased to be back in a new fandom, new account, all the sparkly things ✨ !!

[livesincerely]

Buck makes a noise like the breath’s been punched out of him.

“Jesus, Eddie,” he groans, his fingers digging into Eddie’s thighs as he carries him further into the loft.

He cuts a path straight through the dining area—Eddie’s pretty sure he clips his hip on the corner of the table as he passes it⁠—then deposits Eddie ass-first on the kitchen island. Sitting like this, with Buck standing between his legs, Eddie’s the one that’s taller for once; he hooks his arms over Buck’s shoulders to keep him close, their chests heaving in tandem.

Buck stares up at him, wild-eyed and ravenous. Then his hands are everywhere: warm and calloused around the back of Eddie’s neck, wrenching his shirt over his head and tossing it away, trailing over his stomach until his abs ripple and contract, his skin sizzling with every touch.

He leans in to press hot, messy, open-mouthed kisses down the column of his throat and across his chest, pausing every now and then to bite a bruise or five into his skin. Eddie can’t help the noises that stream out of him⁠—these aching, hungry little keens that refuse to be stifled, undeniable proof of his need⁠—and he tears at Buck’s belt buckle like a man possessed.

“Fuck me,” he begs.

“Eddie,” Buck rasps, the mouthwatering scent of his burning like a wildfire. “We gotta… Upstairs, baby.”

The thought of untangling himself from Buck long enough to navigate his stupid fucking stairs is unbearable.

“Too far,” Eddie tells him, pulling him in for another frantic kiss. “Need you.”

Buck makes another one of those soft, throaty noises. Eddie can’t wait to make him make that noise over and over again. “Thought you wanted a bed?”

“Changed my mind,” Eddie says, and he grabs a fistful of those pretty, perfect curls and tugs. Buck’s eyes flutter, his pupils blown wide. “Here. Right here.”

Buck’s nostrils flare. He looks like he’s clinging to his self-control by the fingertips but he manages to ask, “Are you sure?”

“Do I look like I’m not sure?”

“I just…” Buck nuzzles into the curve of his neck, plants a single, chaste kiss to his shoulder. “I wanna make sure it’s good for you.”

“Luz de mi vida,” Eddie murmurs, cupping a hand around Buck’s jaw, sweeping his thumb over his cheek. “All you are is good for me.”

“Eddie,” Buck breathes.

Eddie pulls him in. Tips their foreheads together and holds his gaze. “So keep being good for me and give me what I want. Give me what’s mine.”

[i-hope-this-is-a-phase]

The First Floor

The Living Area

The home of any house: the heart of the Dream Team. Any half-decent home has a nice living area, and that certainly is the case for the Dream Team!

The Living Area consists of 9 rooms:

The TV Room

The Kitchen

The Dining Table

The Theater Room

The Hallways

The Laundry Room

The Fusion Room (previously the Gym)

The Loft

The TV Room

When you first enter the home, the TV room is on your right

It has a massive sectional sofa and a big-screen TV above the fireplace. IRL, this area is covered in blankets, pillows, stuffed animals, cat toys, and more.

The Dream Team can be found here watching a fellow streamer, a TV show, or more. And, luckily, this room is close to their kitchen for snacks, which brings us to our next room:

The Kitchen

The location of the first 3/3 stream, this kitchen is a versatile space. Its open concept allows it to be accessed from many directions, like the TV room and the Theater Room.

It has stools many stools for the Dream Team to sit at as they eat breakfast, as well as multiple fridges for all their food.

And, just beyond it lives the Dining Room.

The Dining Room

There's not much to say about the Dining Room, since the Dream Team rarely use it. It is used more as storage for all their excess papers.

But, on occasion, you may see Patches jump on it to drink a glass of water.

The Theater Room

Right next to the Kitchen, the Theater Room is featured often in George's Snapchats! If the Dream Team choose to, they can watch a movie here themselves or with a large party of friends.

One of the unique features of this room is its beautiful starry ceiling, which adds to the ambiance of the room.

The Hallways

Right next to the kitchen lie the hallways. The left door leads into the Fusion Room, the middle door leads to another hallway, and the right doorway leads to under the stairs!

You can find some cat toys under the stairs, as well as some equipment in the hallway that leads to the Fusion Room again and the Laundry Room.

The Fusion Room

What was once the gym has now become the Fusion Room! Covered in mats and cardboard walls, this area has been featured in both Dream and George's videos!

It is packed full of technology and why wouldn't it? It's a masterpiece of engineering and coding, and it shows.

The Laundry Room

Featured heavily in the "Titan vs. 20 Hiders" video, this room has multiple washers and dryers for the Dream Team to use!

I, unfortunately, do not have the Laundry Day pack, so there are no washers and dryers in this room. But, feel free to replace the cabinets with them if you download this build!

The Loft

The final room of the Living Area: this area leads to the Dream Suite, the backyard, and SNF's Domain.

It features a stunning spiral staircase as well as a Christmas tree, which Patches often can be found hiding under.

Dream

Dream's entire suite lies on the first floor! There are six rooms in Dream's suite:

Dream's Office

Dream's Bedroom

Dream's Walk-in Closet

Dream's Hallway

The Server Room

Dream's Bathroom

Dream's Office

Right between the back door and the stairwell, you can find Dream's office! It has two desks, a bed, and two computers for all the gaming he does.

As the keen-eyed observer may notice, Dream's iconic face-reveal video was done with a mirrored camera! In later streams and videos, the camera was not reflected.

Dream's Bedroom

Dream's bedroom is to the right after entering the double doors next to the TV room. It is the largest bedroom, with the iconic whiteboard, a master bed, and a TV to watch the Sooners' games!

To the left of his bed, you will see the mirror with which Dream takes his morning selfies! Remember when Dream didn't have a face.

Yeah, me neither.

Dream's Walk-in Closet

Nothing screams luxury than having a massive walk-in closet! Here, you will find many of Dream's Sooners' jerseys, his iconic hoodies, and more.

Of course, any good closet has many drawers, and this room has plenty for all the clothes he's hiding.

Dream's Hallway

It ain't much: just a transitionary space between the rooms. But, I think it defines why Drema's area is a suite rather than just "his rooms."

The Server Room

The home of the Internet, where the Dream Team got their fame. It's covered top-to-bottom with gadgetry that makes the global phenomenon of the Dream Taem possible.

It's just to the left when you enter Dream's suite, and it can be found right next to the bathroom.

Dream's Bathroom

We haven't gotten many photos of this room! But, we can assume there's a bath from the iconic "I'm in the bath" space, and we've seen the beautiful shower room mirror selfie before.

It's a grand bathroom, which fits since it is the master bathroom of the house.

And honestly, Dream deserves it for his hard work.

You can find the Second Floor Layout here!

[buckframe]

Fuck It Friday— *checks day* well as long as we're not having a no-suck Monday i think we're gonna be okay kdhksd

Thank you @happydiaz for tagging me!!! you're a true legend♡ here's a snippet of the 3rd and final chapter of this fic:

It’s not enough. Eddie needs to do better. He needs to trace every scar, every bruise, and every freckle on Buck’s skin with his lips, map them out one by one, inch by inch. He needs to kiss Buck’s plump lips until they’re red and raw. Make him cry tears of pleasure. Wear him out until his limbs feel too heavy to move. He wants Buck’s blood to be pumped full with endorphin and oxytocin until he’s high on it. Eddie remembers one time, months ago, when he dropped by at Buck’s loft unannounced when he’d just started dating Tommy. It was nothing out of the ordinary for them, buying a pack of beers and knocking on each other’s doors. No need to text or check each other’s location. Eddie had knocked twice, listening to the rustling sounds and hushed exchanges behind the door and realizing too late that he had interrupted Buck and his new boyfriend. He had half a mind to just leave, hide behind the wall in the corridor and make Buck think it was some kid from the complex pulling a prank on them but he found his legs were planted into the welcome mat like a tree. Buck had opened the door with a guilty, sheepish grin. The apples of his cheeks were flushed, red patches on beard burn beginning to bloom on his neck, his shirt’s buttons half-done and lopsided. Eddie could do better. If he's got Buck pinned under him, sweet, pliant and needy, no force on earth could make him let go. Whoever’s behind the door can go fuck themselves. “Beautiful,” Eddie mutters under his breath, his thumb tracing and pulling at Buck’s parted lips. “So fucking beautiful…” Buck keens, eyes glazed and unfocused, his tongue darting out to meet Eddie’s thumb. Eddie watches him roll his tongue around the finger, licking the pad in a cat-like manner. It’s maddening, making Eddie’s head spin from the obscenity of it. His hips roll on their own accord, grinding his erection clean across Buck’s, separated only through a couple of thin layers.  Their moans blend together, deep and guttural, indistinguishable from one another, like a well-practiced choir.

I'm (shyly) tagging: @goodluckeddie @saintediaz @ballroomeddie only if u guys want to ofc!!!! no pressure!! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

[jochiemgrace]

In The Valley | Short Solavellan Headcanon

Lavellan wanted a place away from Skyhold. She snuck into the valley below, a religious town greeting her steps. She purchased a small cabin on the edge with her own funds (she's fairly certain the seller knew who she was).

Over the months, she will stay here when she needs the quiet. She leaves little trinkets and items from her travels. She pebbles things for her companions here, she's too shy and scared to actually give it to them.

One day, while wandering the halls of Skyhold, she overhears an argument between her Vhenan and their military leaders:

Angry Cass: Tell me something. Do you care about anything in the world beyond the Fade? Solas: Ah. Angry Cass: Ah? Solas: The Seeker turns her hawk-like gaze to me, penetrating deep into my most secret desires. Only… not. I care deeply for many things beyond the Fade. Just not you. Angry Cullen: Well, at least you’re polite about it. Solas: She did ask. I am powerless to hide anything from the keen eyes of the Right Hand of the Divine and the Lion of the Inquisition. Angry Cullen: You’re going to want to watch that attitude, Solas. Solas: Why? Do you have another expert on the Fade hiding around here? Are you absolutely certain you won’t need me? I volunteered to help, Commander. Rattle the bars if you like, but I chose to enter this cage.

Does he hate it that much? He hadn't said anything. Guilt overtakes her, as she now has an excuse to show him. She asked Dennet for a horse that could carry both of them over a short distance, not wanting to take more from the stables than she needed.

Lavellan keeps her plans close. He trusts her as she guides him from the fortress, riding through the valley, to her home from home.

“I overheard something you said, and I wanted you to know there’s a place outside of Skyhold you can come to. Even it I’m not here. If you want one of your own that’s fine too!” Her words become rushed, her fear taking the reins. “I know some who are” he pulls her head around to place a kiss gently on her lips.

“Vhenan, I don't even know what this is,” he said with a small laugh and loving smile.

“This is my house. I bought it not long after we came to Skyhold. I needed something I could make completely mine. Some place I could feel… normal. Like me again.”

His heart ached for what she was losing by showing this to him. What had she overheard? “You don’t have to do this, my love. It is okay to have something that is completely yours.”

“No… I wanted to share it before and just needed a reason?”

“I don't understand"

“Ar lath ma.” She released those words she was so scared to say, the fear clinging to every syllable. Drifting, oh so quiet, from her lips to his soul.

Solas' arms tightened around her, “Why do you fear, my love?” whispered into her delicate ear.

“It doesn’t feel real, sometimes. I fear I’ll—I will give in only to wake up and learn you were a dream.”

Oh how he knew that fear well.

“I am no dream, ma Vhenan. I am flesh and blood and bone, as you are. And my heart will always be yours. Even if only connected by dreams, I and it will always belong to you. Ar lath bell'anar'is, ma Vhenan.” Her trembling eased at his words, though he felt the tears land on his arm.

The horse whinnied and stomped in frustration with their sudden and seemingly unending halt. The outburst broke the tension, the two giggling and guiding him around the building.

The cabin felt like her. Though it was small, her home had more splendor than any castle of Arlathan. So warm and cozy, so welcoming.

Her shyness didn't dissipate as she showed him around. Her anxious ticks grew when she took him to the small loft. She explained as they went up the narrow staircase that she used the room for little crafts and as a small apothecary.

In a corner with the most light sat two tables, an easel placed between them. Brushes, paints, pencils, sketchbooks and more littered the corner.

Her nervousness babbled out, "I've been collecting things for a while and didn't know what to do with them and kept them here just in case and then--"

He stopped her with a kiss, deep and grateful and in utter awe of this woman who found him.

They take time here, more often than they should, playing house and just living with one another.

Just being Lavellan and Solas.

[atevanfool]

A spice prompt, you say? Gimme Tommy going over to the loft to grovel but the second "I'm sorry" leaves his lips, he can't get much else out after that because they're too busy devouring each other.

(I'm actually V88SY, it's a side blog 😂)

Oooooo. Okay. Let's see if I can keep this somewhat short.

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Tommy's palms are sweating as he walks the familiar hall of the condo complex. The lights seem brighter, the shadows deeper, and it feels like there's eyes coming from every peephole he passes. <i>Get it together, Kinard.</i> He tells himself. He licks his suddenly very dry lips.

It takes him five minutes to work up the courage to knock. He paces back and forth until he feels like he can see the carpet wearing thinner and thinner with each stride. They're grown adults. Tommy is more than ready to admit that he fucked up, and that he hasn't stopped thinking of Evan once. He needs him more than a fish needs water to survive.

Giving his hands one last good swipe down his thighs, he takes a shuddering breath and raises his fist to knock. There's an elongated moment of silence before he hears the familiar crash of someone dropping something to rush to the door before whoever is behind it, leaves. Then the door swings open and Evan stands there in a disaster of an apron, covered in who knows what. Sugar permeates the air, choking Tommy's senses.

Or maybe that's just the lump in his throat that he can't swallow, choking convulsively as he tries to find the words. Find what he came here to say. Evan just stands in the doorway with his brow furrowed and Tommy can no longer tell if it's anger or hurt behind the expression and that's a crushing blow. "Evan." He wheezes, lifting a hand to... What. Touch him? Caress him? He doesn't have that right; not anymore. But the instinct is still there, even if he doesn't deserve it.

Evan stares him down, looking colder and colder the more they do their awkward dance around each other. "Tommy." His words feel like silk against his ears. "What are you doing here?"

"Um. I..." He stuffs his hands deep into his pockets, trying to hide the way they're clenched into fists so tight his fingers are turning white. He scuffs the toe of his boot against the ground, dropping his eyes to watch the way threads pull loose just so he doesn't have to look into that piercing stare anymore.

Evan huffs and Tommy see's him cross his arms from under his lashes, that broad chest expanding so much his t-shirt is close to splitting at the seams. His pecs continue to be impeccable. "Listen, I'd love to stand here all day wondering why you've shown up after four months of radio silence, without any warning at all, but I've got bread in the oven, and Maddie is stopping by in an hour or so. If you're just going to stand there then I'm closing the door."

Tommy's chest squeezes so hard he can't breathe and his hand shoots out unbidden, slamming against the partially closed aforementioned door. Biting his bottom lip, he fumbles for a moment before squeaking, "Look, Evan, I'm so sorry I-" He doesn't get another word out because Evan's lips are on his and he's stealing every atom of air he's gathered. Whimpering, his hands flail until finding purchase on Evan's hips. Evan's hands are on his face, pulling Tommy in hard against him.

Blunt teeth nip at Tommy's bottom lip until he tastes copper. Evan is relentless as he devours the older man's mouth. Tommy is guided through the loft just far enough for Evan to slam him against one of the few flat walls in the place. The air whooses from his lungs and Evan gives him a second to recover, choosing to go after his neck instead. Tommy keens as his knees go weak. His head is filled with pillow fuzz; this isn't how this is supposed to go but he can't remember the right way. His brain is filled with Evan and only Evan.

That's when the man pulls away and plants a head on Tommy's head and begins pushing until all he can do is sink to his knees, gazing up with glazed glacial blues at the man who changed his whole world. He's still got his hands around that trim waist and he flexes his fingers like a cat making biscuits, uncertain what's happening.

"I grieved you, Tommy. I grieved us. I spent weeks, no months, wondering what I did wrong. Why I wasn't enough, or why you never told me I was too much. I..." He takes a deep inhale through his nose. "I got so depressed because I thought you were the one who would never leave me, and then I just got pissed. So pissed that I baked LA out of flour because I didn't know where else to release that energy. But through it all, through all those emotions, all I could think about was having you back. Because you're it for me, Tommy. No one else will ever be able to make me feel what you did. And now you come here with an apology on your lips." He exhales. "I want to forgive you, too. So fucking much."

"Evan I-"

Evan grabs him by the hair and pulls his head back, expression murderous. "DId I tell you to speak?" Evan shakes Tommy's head lightly until he whimpers and manages a nearly indiscernible head shake. "Then shut up and listen." He lets go but his hands drop to the button on his jeans which he pops open, the zipper sounding like a thunderclap as it slides open revealing boxers the color of the tshirt Evan had been wearing the day Tommy had torn both their hearts in two. Tommy's pupils dilate.

"I'm a nice guy, I even kind of sort of forgave the parents who only birthed me to use me for spare parts, but I can only be burned so many times before there's no more layers of skin protecting me. I'm sick to death of cleaning up my own wounds. So I want to forgive you, but how can I trust that you won't just bust through the charred pieces of me that remain and go straight for the soft bits that have nothing left?" He slowly pulls his jeans down until the tops of his hairy thighs are exposed just below the line of his boxer briefs. The bulge of his cock makes Tommy's mouth dry and even as Evan continues to speak he can't draw his eyes away. He watches the wet patch grow, little by little. "See what you're still doing to me, Tommy? See the way my body won't let me forget what you gave to me?" Tommy nods.

Evan's voice is curt as he pulls his cock out, grabbing it with one hand and wrenching Tommy's face forward with the other until the tip of Evan's cock bounces against his cheek. "This is your fault, Tommy. All of it. Everything that I've gone through in the last year is because I met you." He's choking up but he hides it well, not even a frustrated sniffle to be had. "So you're going to fix it. Here and now." He guides his cock to Tommy's mouth and his jaw drops open without any prompting at all.

A whine escapes him as Evan's thick member pushes past his lips, the weight and texture as familiar as his own. The skin is soft, pliant, and ever so slightly salty. Evan likely hasn't showered yet today. The taste is heady and Tommy feels dizzy for only a moment because he's not given any time at all to take it in. The moment Evan's in as far as he can go without Tommy opening up his throat, Evan slams his hips forward, large hands digging into Tommy's curls, keeping him in place.

Grunting in surprise, Tommy would have fallen backwards if not for the death grip in his hair. His hands shoot out, reaching for anything to hold onto. He finds Evan's waist but it's not enough. They snake around until each hand holds one globe of an ass that takes work. He squeezes it as hard as he's squeezing his eyes shut.

Evan's mouth hasn't quit spewing insults since he's taken Tommy's mouth by force. He's plowing into him with fast, hard, snaps of his hips. Drool leaks like a faucet from the corner of Tommy's lips and tears streak down his cheeks like rivers. "Open your throat, Tommy. I know you can take it." Tommy grunts. He's out of practice but with Evan in his arms, he wants to do anything he can to win him back. So he does his best to open even further, feeling the way Evan scrapes against his esophagus.

The amount of precum spilling from the tip makes it nearly impossible to not choke. Evan's tirade continues, only taking long enough breaks for him to catch his breath, withdrawing his cock only so Tommy can gasp in two or three quick breaths of air. His scalp burns from the way Evan is holding onto him but no way does he even consider complaining.

What could have been minutes, or possibly hours, later Evan's hips stutter and his thrusts become aborted little jerks. Tommy recognizes the signs of Evan getting close so he focuses on tounging the slit, finally being given enough control to suck his cock with technique and not just forced enthusiasm while squeezing Evan's ass so hard he's certain there will be hand shaped bruises.

Finally Evan stills, whimpering a quiet, breathy, "I'm coming," before he's spilling down Tommy's throat, buried balls deep with Tommy's nose buried in his pubic curls. And Tommy swallows it all down, every last drop even if he feels like he's suffocating.

Eventually, Evan stumbles back, a hand coming up to cover his eyes. All the emotions he seems to have been holding back break free and he lets out a sob. Standing slowly, like an animal photographer trying not to spook the wild cat, Tommy wipes his mouth and approaches his ex, hands shaking and uncertain as he reaches out to cup Evan's shoulders a moment before pulling him into a hug. There's no resistance. No punching, or kicking, or hitting.

There's only the silent shaking of a broken man.

"Why did you do it, Tommy? Just. Why? I thought you loved me." His voice breaks and he buries his head into Tommy's chest, ignoring the way his soft cock hangs limply in the free air.

Tommy wraps him up even tighter and dares to bury his nose into that soft brown hair he's missed so much. "Because I was scared, Evan. I was scared because I had never loved anyone as much as I loved... love... you. I don't think I would've survived if somewhere down the line you realized that I was no longer for you; you're still young, you could always find someone new. So I left, hurting us both, before you could hurt me. And I've never been more sorry in my life."

"You should be you stupid son of a bitch." The words were biting, but they were deserved, so Tommy just holds him tighter. Another few minutes past. "I want to try again. But I don't want to have to worry about you running away again."

Pulling away, Tommy cups Evan's face and forces their eyes to meet. "I swear to you, Evan Buckley, that if you give me another chance, I will never leave you, not even after they've buried me in the cold hard ground. I'll haunt you like Billy Boils."

Evan snorts but as he goes in for another kiss, there's a shrill beeping sound and Evan pulls away yelling, "My bread!" He dashes back into the kitchen.

Concerned, Tommy follows after him chiding, "Put your willy away, first, Evan!" For the first time since arriving Tommy takes a full breath, appreciating the scent of poppyseed loaf in the air.

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So... Is this a win?

I would give this a solid

🌶🌶/ 🌶🌶🌶🌶🌶

Send me more spicy asks.

[dangerpronebuddie]

Kiss Me Once Cause You Know I Had A Long Night 33/?

19. "If we get caught kissing we're dead but let's risk it."

Summary:

"Do you have any idea how much trouble we'll be in if we get caught?" Eddie whispers.

"Like either of us care," Buck points out as he opens the supply closet door.

"Fair point."

Buck takes Eddie's hand and hauls him into the closet, closing the door and pushing him against it, settling his hands on Eddie's hips.

(read below! Also on ao3 if you like 😘)

~~~

They both keep their heads on a swivel, watching for the beloathed bigot around every corner. Gerrard has caught them once- two days after their first kiss- and threatened to transfer one of them if he ever saw them again. Eddie cares not to dwell on the names they've been called in the week since. And all because Buck, bleery eyed and adorable after a nap in the bunk room, kissed Eddie's temple when he found him in the loft.

"Do you have any idea how much trouble we'll be in if we get caught?" Eddie whispers.

"Like either of us care," Buck points out as he opens the supply closet door.

"Fair point."

Buck takes Eddie's hand and hauls him into the closet, closing the door and pushing him against it, settling his hands on Eddie's hips. He takes Eddie's lips in a bruising kiss, setting every nerve ending on fire. Eddie keens and tangles his fingers in Buck's curls, drawing a low groan from him.

Eddie smiles into the kiss, reveling in the still new, but familiar sensation of his boyfriend, his Buck, pressed against him. He feels like he might float away, Buck's hands the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.

Buck pulls away to pepper kisses across Eddie's face to behind his ear. Eddie tips his head back with a sigh, thumping his head against the door. Buck shushes him and tugs his earlobe with his teeth.

"Ya know something?" Eddie asks as Buck loves at his neck.

"What?" Buck smirks against his skin.

"I think you love me just so you can be guilty of insubordination," Eddie grins.

He can feel Buck's own grin pressed beneath his jaw. "It's not the only reason I love you, baby," he says before nipping at the fading bruise on Eddie's throat, making him gasp. "But it is a perk."

"Nice to know I'm good for something," Eddie quips.

Buck trails kisses up to the corner of Eddie's mouth. "Help me steal the engine and I'll show you what you're really good for," he says in a husky whisper before slotting their lips together.

Eddie wraps his arms around Buck's neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepens. Buck slips a hand in Eddie's back pocket, drawing a soft noise from him Buck swallows down as he presses them more firmly together.

Eddie reaches for Buck's collar, desperate to see and touch and taste more.

He just gets the first button undone when the door is yanked open.

Eddie stumbles back, but Buck catches him just before his head can smack into the tile. Eddie looks up, his heart in his mouth. It quickly calms when he sees Hen smirking down at them.

"And just what were you two doing in there?" she asks, folding her arms.

"Uh," Buck says with a nervous chuckle.

"Would you believe practicing the tango?" Eddie grins.

Buck helps him stand as Hen scoffs. "Tonsil hockey seems more believable," she drawls.

"Yeah, and I was about to score a goal before you blocked it," Buck snarks. Eddie gently smacks him in his middle.

"I really do not want to know," Hen says. "But I suggest you get your thrills some other time. The fossil wants Eddie and me to do inventory on the engine. A hora."

Buck sighs and drops his forehead onto Eddie's shoulder. "My offer of stealing the engine still stands."

Eddie chuckles and presses a kiss to his curls. "I might just take you up on that."

Hen grabs Eddie's wrist and pulls him from Buck's arms. "After you help me with the inventory."

They didn't steal the engine that day... The ambulance was much more comfortable anyway.