#and gray countertops. window over sink

[beynanasplit]

Transitional Home Bar - U-Shape

[yoncchi]

Bathroom - Kids

[sstudiously]

Kids Bathroom

[mrkng]

Bathroom (Orange County)

[chordati]

Bathroom - Transitional Bathroom

[scydiahs]

Kitchen (Detroit)

[mockinqay]

Traditional Kitchen (Philadelphia)

[veganmisanthrope]

Traditional Kitchen - Kitchen

[yamaburi]

Bathroom - Transitional Bathroom

[fauxboy]

Manchester Pantry

[sunnie-angel]

the gloaming

jason todd x gn!reader

Do you know me in the gloaming, Gaunt and dusty gray with roaming? Flower Gathering, Robert Frost

Something sweet dances on the wind, cuts through the grime and exhaust of the city’s usual odour. Flowers, maybe, blooming in the park two blocks east. For Jason Todd, it feels like a Gotham summer, the kind he used to love as a kid. The breeze just caressing his skin before moving on, sticky heat finally letting up as Fall looms on the horizon. The setting sun catches on the windows of the high rises, transforming the whole street into technicoloured fiery hues. 

He’s got a bag of pastries clutched between his teeth, a surprise gift from the bakery on 3rd for helping them with their vandalism problem. Reaching into his back pocket, Jason juggles his phone and wallet looking for his keys. It’s a struggle, but he’s used to it. You tease him for it every time and every time he manages the lock on his own, Jason crows with triumph. Today though, with the risk of dropping his bounty, he keeps his victory to himself.

Silence greets him, punctuated only by the door closing behind him. Cautious, Jason toes off his boots and goes searching. Keys finding their home on the hook and pastries getting deposited on the  countertop still prompt no response. He’s not worried, not yet. You’d sent him a text when you’d gotten home after all. The kitchen is dark in the wake of sunset, the first tendrils of blue grey shadow reaching long fingers across the cabinets. The water from the tap is cold as he gulps it down. Stray drops cling to the glass as he presses it to his forehead. 

Light shines faintly from under the closed door of the bedroom. Pale gold cutting across the plush fibers of the carpet. Jason pushes the door gently, stops it from bouncing off the wall the way it’s prone to doing with just a shade too much enthusiasm. You’re there, curled up on top of the blankets of the bed and gilded by the low light. 

“Hey,” he calls out softly.

You pat the bed beside you and Jason crawls in beside you, mattress sinking under his weight.  With a sigh, your head comes to rest on his stomach, arms coming around him. Jason shivers as your pinky brushes bare skin, T-shirt riding up. Face first, you nuzzle in to him and he holds you tighter. Presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“What’s going on, chickadee?” Jason asks, inhaling the faded scent of shampoo and sweat. Silence stretches out between you, filling the room as the windows grow darker. It’s that quiet hour where the sun has said its farewells but the moon hasn’t quite risen it’s head in greeting, something magical and still filling the night with a dusky blue hue.

“Sometimes the world just has a way of making me feel small, you know?” you say, folding the silence away with your words. Jason feels the rumble of them across his belly. “S’nothing in particular, not really. A door that closed too fast for me, a word that felt loaded, a hand that didn’t help. Just the sense that I’m invisible, like I don’t fully exist.”

It’s a fear that rises its head every once in a while, rolls over you as suddenly as a rogue wave and disappears just as quickly. The drowning sensation of being inconsequential in the eyes of everyone around you, a non-entity. As thin and insubstantial as air with nothing so necessary to offer.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he asks. Jason feels more than sees you nod. “Sometimes you’re the only thing I can focus on, the world just fades away. I go blind, deaf, and dumb to everything else. You’re it for me, chickadee,” he whispers into the crown of your head.

“I know,” you answer simply, and you do. He’s the destination you’ve spent your life looking for. “Can we just– can we just stay like this a bit until I’m a bit less see through?” 

“We’ll stay here as long as you like. I got no where else I’d rather be.”

Later, when inky darkness covers the city and the streetlamps have long been lit, you will stretch up to place a kiss on Jason’s stubbly cheek. He will smile, and lead you by the hand to the kitchen. Jason will surprise you with the bolo de coco long gone to room temperature in it’s crumpled paper bag, and the two of you will laugh and eat your dessert before your dinners. He will cook for you, asking you questions and catering to your whims until you feel a little less raw.

But that is later. For now, the two of you sit in soft silence, the evening stretching on around you.

[sweetsuo]

𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐬

Toji Fushiguro x F!Reader

Cw. afab!reader. Cheating. Infidelity. Dacryphilia. Temperature play. Burning. Fingering. Smoking.

 Genre. [ fic. Smut. See tags for notes.] You're Megumi's girlfriend and his father is not someone you thought you'd catch the eye of in the kitchen.

Wc. 3.6k

This was fucked up. It was fucked up and you knew it was. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, but it’s the only way your heart squeezed in that sickeningly pleasant way – the only reason you wanted to sleep over any more.

You looked up at him, eyes dancing over the serenity in his features. Handsome. Somehow boyish in the length of his lashes and the way his lips parted in a slight laugh. He made you feel like an endangered animal – preciously encaged for safety and sanctuary yet never letting you see home again.

Your breath fluttered and you were completely certain he could hear the way your heart swirled in your eardrums. It was evident in the way his head tilted slightly as his deep gray-blue eyes went from your chest, to your lips, to yours eyes. You held your breath, rolled your lip between your teeth, and averted your eyes.

The tile of the kitchen floor was cold against your bare feet and Megumi’s shirt was big enough to graze your knees. The chill of the counter against the side of your hand reminded you of everything outside of the one in front of you.

“W-what?”

“Can I have the milk?”

Toji leaned his hip on the black marble countertop, hand laying over yours on the cardboard milk carton as he took it from you. It was a slight graze of a touch, but you felt the calluses of his fingers trickle across the delicate skin of the back of your hand. You repressed a shudder. Your chin dipped down. Your hand let go of the carton.

“Thanks. What’re you doing up so late, Princess? Gumi kick you off the bed again?”

You felt the warmth of his body as he shifted, bicep grazing onto your upper arm as he poured the milk into the coffee. The nickname always peeved Megumi in a way he couldn’t fully explain. You would reassure him it was fine, it’s just because his dad was a dick. Toji said it was because Megumi spoiled you.

“No,“ you watched as black espresso turned to a pretty caramel. Suddenly your tea wasn’t as appetizing anymore. For a moment your brows furrowed and you were aware that it was 3:15am, “why are you drinking coffee?”

Toji laughed. It’s deep and gruff and sounds like tires over a gravel driveway. This time you can’t suppress the shudder. It’s been this way since Toji came back from his business trip. You never met him up until the last semester. At least not in person. He was usually away. Megumi never knew what he did or how he afforded the house. 

Either way, whenever classes let up or between semesters, you’d come to his suburban home and basically live with him. You loved Megumi very much and you have for the year and a half you’ve been dating. You’d kiss him goodbye whenever you left to see your parents, but there was something about his dad that kept you coming back.

Maybe it was the first night you woke up in the middle of the night. Megumi had kicked you off the bed by accident. There was only so much room for two 20-years-olds and a large dog. It was bound to happen one day or another. It was simply unfortunate that you scraped your arm on a bent piece of metal from his bed frame, leaving a long scratch that pebbled red. You traversed down the steps and having forgotten your glasses on the nightstand, had to rummage through the drawers to find a band aid.

Toji was there, leaning on a counter by the sink, gazing out the window. The sweet scent of cherry tobacco lingered despite the open air. At first, your throat cinched around your thumping heart. You thought he was an intruder. You couldn’t see his features, but the way the moon abstractly bounced off them, you immediately knew who he was just by shape. Megumi got his good looks from someone and that someone was right in front of you.

“You’re bleeding,” he stated blandly, only taking a second to look at you from the corner of his eyes.

“I am?” You knew you were. That’s why you had your arm up like an injured paw and a hand in a drawer full of homeless kitchen appliances, “I am.”

“So you are,” he chuckled. Toji stood at full height and you swore you nearly gasped. The corner of his scarred mouth curled then flattened as he turned to you. He grabbed a paper towel, fingers grasping onto the tips of yours. His palm was warm, soft, tender on the flesh of your arm. The paper towel pressed to provide a temporary fix as he guided you along to the bathroom to pull out a bandage.

You remember every moment of that night; how the sink felt pressing against the small of your back and how his thigh leaned almost too heavily onto yours as he meticulously took care of the minor cut. In his defense, the bathroom was small – one of the ones that fit awkwardly under a staircase and only had a toilet and a sink. It didn’t excuse the way his hand brushed your hair back when everything was settled. You still felt guilty that you tilted your chin to better feel the backs of his fingers against your neck.

For as often as you felt guilty, soon to follow was an echo of his parting words.

“Mr. Fushiguro takes care of his guests – especially Gumi’s Princess.” His smile was strangely sweet when he exited the bathroom, leaving you to collect your staggered breath.

It was that night, and plenty of nights after, that you woke Megumi up by putting his hand on your cunt and asking if daddy could take care of you. The kisses he’d press to your forehead lingered warmly, lovingly. Bitterly.

Brought back by the metallic thwip of a bic lighter, Toji cupped his hand to the flame, lighting the cherry cigarette you would smell when you were lonely in your dorm. It overpowered the familiar scent of eucalyptus you’d once loved.

“For the same reason everyone drinks coffee,” He laughed once through his nose, expression slackening as his gaze lingered on yours. He dragged on the cigarette and exhaled for longer than usual. The swirl of smoke passing over the curve of his lips was beautiful. He quirked a brow, curiously entertained, “Withdrawal?”

You dry swallowed. He offered you the cigarette with an offhand comment you couldn’t quite hear. The end of the cig faced you and you leaned, wrapping your lips around it. The subtle graze of his fingers on your lips tickled. You never smoked before. Through thick lashes, your gazes met and you swore something passed over his. You sucked. You coughed. You secretly loved the taste of burnt cherry.

“That’s not how you do it,” his voice was dark navy and for a moment, as small tears welled from the remaining spasm of your lungs, you thought he would scold you for lying. Hushed, he pressed the cigarette back to your lips, “Try again.”

Obediently, your lips found their way around the stick. You had Toji’s attention on you in the same way a starling bird had a peregrine falcon’s. You felt wanted by something hungry.

You waited patiently for his order, looking up to him with those pretty, expectant eyes. You barely noticed his hand slowly pulling the cigarette. Your lips stayed connected. He felt your breath fan the backs of his fingers.

“Are you going to suck it, or what?” There was a bite to his voice and you took a long, nervous drag. The crackling burning paper filled the space between you. You tried to inhale it all and the burn made your eyes water. Toji’s head tilted by a minuscule as your lips detached, leaving a small string of saliva attached to the end. Bleary eyes matched his, desiring his approval. His free hand cupped your cheek, giving a slight tap, “I’m not going to spoil you like Megumi does, Princess.”

Strong hands grabbed under the thickest part of your thighs, hoisting you up and onto the cold marble counter. Megumi’s shirt was disregarded and hiked up to the crease of your hip. The hiss of hot ash sprinkled on your thighs matched the heady hiss your tongue made against teeth. Toji smirked. The burn was replaced by his rough hands smoothing over the supple flesh. He gripped your ass, hauling you to the edge of the counter.

This was wrong.

Your heart throbbed in your chest and even more between your legs. Your Thighs squeezed together as Toji leaned into your neck, biting hard. His thumbs dug into the junction of your thigh and hip, keeping you sat firmly on the counter top.

Megumi was upstairs.

Toji’s mouth trailed down your neck as the tips of his fingers traced up along bare skin. You could feel him smirk against your neck. Surely the warmth of his lips could feel how fast the blood pumped through you. You felt light headed, impatient for the touch of his chilled fingers. The man before you nudged his cheek onto yours and you felt the subtle graze of his spudding 5 o’clock shadow.

He said nothing, but you heard the change his breathing. Hiis middle finger slipped between your glossy lips - the touch was so cold, you gasped and your cunt clenched on nothing at all. The pad of his middle finger moved slowly in a circle, then traced down. It was so slow that your body writhed for more. To try and coax the digit in, your entrance throbbed. He headed to call to its beck. Rather than satiate your starving sex, Toji brushed up to your clit. Totally in control of you, his fingers dance in cruel repetition.

His spare hand trailed up your torso, pulling his son’s shirt up to expose you bit by bit. The shirt never came off, no. It’s not like he needed it to when you wore nothing underneath it. He’d be lying if he didn’t notice how your nipples perked and your stance shifted when he entered the kitchen. He felt your eyes on his back when he opened the fridge. Deliberately (and with the goodness in his heart), he allowed your longing gaze to linger on him. It was laughable that you were pressing your bare chest into the palm of his hand, The tissue malleable and molten under his touch. It was euphoric. You gave into his touch so desperately.

Toji’s grin widened, Cheshire-like against you. His breath was hot against your ear and the baritone of his voice was enough to make you swallow a whine, “Maybe Gumi doesn’t spoil his Princess like I thought. You’re really this cock hungry? I barely touched you,” his finger tapped on your swollen clit and you jerked in response, curling forward and trembling digit gripping onto his impossibly tight shirt. Practically on the brink of tears from the way he teased you, you wondered how hands so cold could feel like they burned like the ash on your thighs.

Fuck. Fuck.  

The hands gripping his shirt slapped the cold counter when you pulled your torso away to back on your forearms. Your brows knit and your chin tilted back. Megumi’s shirt draped over your tits like fine silk. What a fucking delicious sight. Desperate. That’s exactly how you looked with your nose scrunched and lips drawn in a tight line. Your fists were balled and legs spread wide, separated by his body. He admired that the first thing spilled on the freshly installed black marble was the drool of your cunt.

Toji persisted despite the painful ache of his cock. He wanted you to grovel for him, prove his suspicion that his son lacked the same skill to make you a drooling mess. Why? The answer was simple instinct to him. The aftermath of his divorce left him in shambles. But then again, papers were filed the second he fucked his sister-in-law on wifey’s new BMW (and doubled down on when she found the recording of him with the couple’s therapist). Validation, maybe. He had nothing to prove or no need for it. He just wanted to know that he could fuck anyone he wanted anywhere he wanted, no matter who they were.

You opened your mouth to scream in frustration. Your legs shook, every part of your body wanted something to fill you. Empty. Empty fucking. Empty satisfaction. The slap was followed by the sound of skittering upstairs.

You paled and your heart threatened to burst with anxiety. Complete silence took over the kitchen and your mind emptied, listening for the familiar sound of your boyfriend’s footsteps. Eyes looked over your shoulder and suddenly you were very aware of the fact that every entrance leading to the kitchen was an open walkway.

The man between your legs had paused then, lips slack as he listened. He had good hearing. Good senses. His fingertips sprawled on top of your mound, palm pressing against your fluttering entrance absent-mindedly. It was merely the dog. He trained it to only bark or alert of certain triggers. This was certainly not one of them. Your reaction though- he could work with that.

His fingers circled your clit and you feared he would continue his cruel tease. Toji could see through your expression like the Bermuda seas. He leaned forward, hand slowly tipping over your entrance as his words filled your mind, “What happens if you’re caught?”

Your breathing stopped completely. Dread, excitement, and two long digits filled you. Just as you had expected, every second of teasing coated your walls. Every nerve ending had been meticulously prepared for something to touch them, trigger them to ignite. Your walls spasmed readily and your knees gripped the sides of Toji’s hips. He experimented with you for a while, salivating when tears pinched past your lashes. In the back of his mind, he needed you to break before you got his cock. He was getting slightly impatient. His hands were cold and you could feel every single motion of his fingers in you. Your mind could paint a picture of every ridge his digits had to offer simply from his temperature.

He leaned over. His tongue was hot. With a single broad, strong, and long open-mouthed lap along your clit, you unwound. A free hand slapped over your mouth, muffling the near animalistic yowl you let out. He smirked.

Bet Megumi never heard that sound.

As soon as your walls slowed and your voice died out, Toji shoved the band of his sweats under his cock. He could tell by your blissed out glaze that you weren’t entirely processing what was to come. He could fix that.

Hands pulled you half-way off the counter. You yelped, shivering at the slick on the surface beneath you. Toji held you under your knees, practically forcing you to prop yourself up on your elbows. He cooed, “Good girl.” The way you stared at his cock like it were god itself had a dribble of precum roll down his length. A bare minimum of 8-9 inches stood at attention, positioned right under you. Your arousal drizzled over him and if your mind worked, you would’ve offered to lick it off like one would a warm sugar glaze.

He adjusted his arms so that the underneath of your thighs were supported by his hands and your knees hooked over his arms. Your own arms wobbled and shook. The muscle ache was blunted by his thick tip pressing onto your entrance. You had no option but to give him the reins. His focus was entirely on the junction between his tanned cock pressing into you. It was almost endearing, how this look of fascination came over his harsh features, enrapturing your gaze like a renaissance painting.

He guided your hips in a circle, bending his knees slightly to swirl against you. The scar at the corner of his lip twitched in gratification when you throatily let out a long high note. He lowered you onto him in bit by bit. Slight thrust in. Draw back. Slight thrust in. Draw back.

Every. Single. Time. He drew out, you wanted to cry out. You could take it. Toji continued to carefully make his way into you. He was large and he learned from mistakes of drilling in too soon. Sure, he slipped in easy enough, but he still met resistance to the stretch. He didn’t want to hurt you. Or at least that was until you opened your pretty mouth.

“Stop fucking around. I can take Gumi’s dick, I can take yours.”

Your lips formed into a pout and the words backhanded his ego. So this is what Megumi dealt with. Oh no, he couldn’t have that. You were obviously trying to get a rise out of him like the brat you were. Toji darkly chuckled, “So this is what’s got him around your finger, huh? You want me to ‘stop fucking around’?”

He pulled your right leg across his chest so that it rested along his left shoulder. The left leg was guided around his waist. “By your command, Princess.” He thrust in hard, shoving his cock through the tightness. The pace was relentless. Harsher, meaner, heavier than even Megumi’s was at his roughest. Your mind erased the fact that you were in the kitchen of a house. It erased the fact that your arms felt like they were going to tear. It erased the sweat under your palms as you white-knuckled the edge of the marble. It erased Megumi, peacefully asleep upstairs.

All you felt was the hot vibration of your clambering walls and the searing hot brand of his cock burning into your core. Everything fuzzed, scattered with every near full pull, then came crashing back with every push. The position itself allowed for the force of your own weight to freely bounce back on him without him needing to do much. He still gripped your limbs with such force there would be bruises.  He wrapped your other leg around his waist patting your thighs to grip him as he changed his thrusts to slow, deep. Toji peeled off the shirt, a glisten to his every muscle under the dim light as it reached over his head. Arms were up high as it was shimmied off, but his thrusts were controlled. Abs worked, tensed in a motion so beautiful that you were absolutely certain that this was and would be your only religious experience.

The shirt hit the floor. Toji licked his thumb. The palm of his hand rested along your pubic bone, tilted so that he could graze your clit in such a gentle, yet effective way that you reeled. You bucked with him, using your legs to draw him in more until you felt a sharp pleasure rake your cervix, claw down the up-side of your walls. He dragged out. He thrust in.

He was close and was grappling for why the hell it was taking you so long. He felt how you squeezed his cock over and over. Your breathing slowed whenever it happened and there was a certain flicker going off in your half-lidded gaze. Your walls got tighter each time, but never released. For once in his life, Toji Fushiguro thought he had met his match in stamina. There was a click of his tongue, “What the fuck are you waiting for? Are you a dog? Only can cum on command, bitch?” His words came from annoyance and impatience.

You nodded.

Trained her like a bitch, didn’t you?

“Cum.”

There was finally release. The hot iron brandish pressed hard into your walls, your abdomen, your throat. Your walls shuddered so violently, Toji nearly lost grip. A beat behind you, his cock thrusts jerked. You’re mouth opened with a silent moan, all muscles tensing in response. Hot. He was hot and fast and you felt each rope melt along your walls and drip off.

Pulling out his softened cock, Toji looked to the dark tile ground beneath you coated in a mix of a translucent glaze and thick white. He took mercy on you then, leaning and looping an arm under your back and pulling you to him. Your arms wrapped around his neck and for a sprinkle of a second he could see what Megumi saw. One hand held you up under your ass while the other pulled his sweats up. The house was quiet once more as he grabbed paper towels to clean you up.

After all was said and done, Toji sat on the couch with you on his lap, nestled into the crook of his neck. His hand supported your back as you sniffled your way back to the present day. He wasn’t great at aftercare and if he were being honest, any quick fuck had ended when he came (which was usually last). He was indifferent to the sniffles and indifferent to the way you made little sounds of comfort to yourself. You were doing what you needed to to keep yourself together. If that included reliving each moment Megumi placed a loving hand to your cheek and cooed at how well you did, then so be it. Who you craved at the end of the night wasn’t him. 

Toji wasn’t one to be possessive - yet he rubbed small circles on your back, believing that he could be. 

[kuroppiii]

  cuteness aggression ᵕ̈       boyfie!timeskip!bokuto kōtarō       x gn reader ˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : your boyfriend is quite ⋮⋮  literally too cute in the mornings

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8:25 am. both you and bokuto have the day off.

you're leaning against the kitchen counter, one of bokuto's shirts loosely hanging off of your frame. as your thumb instinctively scrolls through your feed, the bubbling of hot water brewing for your morning drink sounds off next to you.

you're vaguely aware of the steam drifting up from the top of the machine when your eyes land on a post from an official msby account.

it was video where they had bokuto running around the msby locker room interviewing his teammates. the questions were along the lines of “favorite point you’ve won”, “court position you would try for a day”, “how do you wear your kneepads off court”, yadayadayada—

the questions didn’t really matter to you at the current moment. what caught your attention, of course, was your lovely boyfriend.

you watched his bright eyes as he excitedly talked to the camera and as they were trained on his teammates while he intently listened to their responses.

the same eyes that light up whenever he sees you, without fail. or the ones that glowed a warm amber when the afternoon sun hits them just right. ones you’ve seen on countless nights as bokuto lies on top of you with his chin softly resting on your chest, as he looks up at your face and his eyes dart over each and every feature on your face in utmost admiration.

and in the video he also smiles—a toothy and hearty smile where it’s so wide that little dimples appear at the sides of his face and some of his bottom teeth peek out from behind his bottom lip. his lips are rosy and full of life, just like him. and only you would know how soft they are, too, and the exact feeling of how they stretch into a content grin against your own lips when you kiss. it’s a smile you could never grow tired of.

everything about him is so charming. he’s adorable. some days you wish you could hide him from the world and keep him and his cuteness all to yourself.

and suddenly the urge just hits you—to hold him and hug him and smother him with affection. to cup his face in your hands and squish his cheeks so you can plant a big kiss on his lips. to nip the tip of his nose just to hopefully incite his laugh that brings music to your ears.

and guess what? you can do exactly that, right at this instant.

completely neglecting your brewing drink and leaving your phone laying flat on the countertop, you shuffle your way back through the apartment to you and bokuto’s shared bedroom.

you peek your head in and see he’s still out cold. the sunlight makes its way through the window blinds to cast shapes on your boyfriends bare chest, exposed by the sheets that he’s shoved down to his lower torso in his sleep.

a ray of light falls on his face, where his eyes are closed, his eyelashes brush against the tops his cheeks, and his mouth hangs open as he sleeps in and snores away.

the black and gray streaks of his hair are rendered messy and tussled as his head sinks into the pillow under it.

the other day you read about the phenomenon of, “cuteness aggression: desires to squeeze, crush, pinch, or even bite an object of our affection. scientists think it is a way we cope with intense positive emotions.”

yup. now you totally get it.

you approach his side of the bed and crawl on top of him, brushing your hands against his chest as you lean down to immediately start peppering his face in kisses. surely he’d wake up, and although you knew the previous night’s practice had taken a lot out of him and he deserved to sleep in for a little longer… the urge. the urge to gather him up in your arms with all the love in the world was simply just too strong.

his eyes not yet open, but his hands now moving to blindly search for your waist, his voice is groggy and rough as he mumbles, “this is an awesome way to start off my day.”

you let up with the face kisses for a moment and fight back a giggle as bokuto blinks one eye awake to get a good look at you first thing as he wakes up, “mornin’ gorgeous.”

too cute. butterflies fly around in your stomach while, firmly but gently, your hands go to hold his head in place as you resume to kiss him all over even more.

“what’s the occasion, baby?” he asks amidst being attacked by your displays of affection, his hands playing with the hem of his shirt on you.

“nothin’, just missed you,” you say between kisses, softly and just barely above a whisper.

“well i’m right here,” he smiles before stretching himself out under you, letting out a small whine as his body comes to before the day properly starts.

as he does this, you tap a finger on his nose and laugh when his face scrunches up in reaction, “kō, you look real cute in the morning, you know that?”

a sound of protest escapes from his throat as his arms wrap around you and he rolls you both over. now he hovers over you, and those pretty eyes gaze down at you. if only you could swim in those eyes and all the love they carry for you, forever.

but bokuto shifts so he can kiss you, and kiss you deep. when you part, you feel your heartbeat is racing and that maybe you don’t need caffeine this morning to wake up after all. not when your boyfriend is bokuto kōtarō, who brings something so inexplicably fulfilling to your life with each day you start waking up to him and his cute bedhead—his cute everything.

“not as much as you are all the time, cutie,” bokuto lazily argues and you lightheartedly roll your eyes with a small scoff.

now it’s his turn to “cope with intense positive emotions”, as you find yourself getting smothered with love—his love—in the messy sheets of your bed at around 9 in the morning.

[obitez]

Bean

Can also be read on AO3

The night before Chimney’s bachelor party, Buck had been running himself ragged. He had been running himself ragged all day really, but that night it started piling up on him. 

“How about you come over to my place?” Tommy asked as they were speaking to each other over the phone. “You can show me those cooking skills you were talking about?” 

“Really? Your place?” Buck asked. “It’s only been like a week and-” 

“Evan, it wasn’t even 24 hours after the coffee meetup [he still refused to call that a date] that we were having sex in your loft,” Tommy stopped him to say. “You invited me to your sister’s wedding. I think you seeing my place is a little overdue.” 

“Oh, well…” Buck trailed off, thinking. “Yeah, that sounds great then!” he smiled into the phone. Send me your address, I’ll grab some food at the grocery store and come right over! You don’t mind pasta right? I’d usually make a nice marinated chicken dish but this is kinda short notice and-”

“Sounds good,” Tommy said. “You get whatever you think will make a nice meal.”

An hour later, Buck pulled his Jeep into a driveway leading up to a single story bungalow right next to a gray pickup truck he had become very familiar with in the last month. He parked the Jeep and grabbed two grocery bags from the back seat as he walked up the short walkway to Tommy’s front door. 

As soon as he pressed the doorbell, Buck could hear the sound of a dog barking coming from somewhere inside the house. That was weird, he thought. Tommy hadn’t mentioned any dog in the time Buck had known him. Then, in the small window that lined the right side of the door, the face of a little dog appeared. 

The dog barked again, and - oh, it seemed Tommy did have a dog. Why had Tommy never mentioned a dog? 

Seconds later the door opened, and before Tommy could say anything the little dog tried to maneuver itself around Tommy’s legs and run up to Buck. 

“Oh Bean,” Tommy said as his eyes grew wide and he quickly leant down to scoop the dog into his arms before the dog tried to claw up Buck’s legs. Tommy made the action look so easy, so effortless… how? 

“You-” Buck blinked, his eyes focusing on the dog in Tommy’s arms. A dachshund, if he knew his breeds right, often called wiener or sausage dogs. This one was small, and could fit right into Tommy’s forearm. It, no he, had solid dark brown fur with a light brown snout and feet. The dog was cute. “You have a dog?” 

 “Yeah,” Tommy said, hitching the dog higher up in his arms. “His name is Bean. Bean, how about you say hi to Evan.” Bean only blinked his eyes up at him before turning his head around to look up at Tommy’s face. 

“You never mentioned him before,” Buck said, reaching a hand up for Bean to sniff him. Bean didn’t. 

“Really, I haven’t?” Tommy asked. When Buck shook his head no, Tommy thought back on it. “I guess I have been talking about him less often. Lucy and the others kept nagging me a couple months ago saying that it was impossible for me to not talk about him. So I tried to talk about him a little less and-” 

“You should talk about him more!” Buck said as he moved his hand to the top of Bean’s head, scratching his head fur. “How can you not talk about this little guy?” 

Bean leaned into Buck’s touch, blissed out. “Ph, he likes head scratches, doesn’t he?” 

“Yeah, he does,” Tommy said, a gentle smile on his lips. Buck could get used to seeing that smile on Tommy’s face. It looked good on him, really good. 

“So do you want to come in now?” Tommy asked, taking a step backwards. 

“Oh yeah,” Buck said as he held the bags of food up. “Got everything we need right here.”

“Well then let me show you my kitchen. 

🐕 🐕 🐕 🐕 🐕

Buck spread out the ingredients along the kitchen counter. The very nice kitchen counter. And oh boy did Tommy have a nice kitchen. Granite countertops, a six burner stove, even the sink had one of those fancy bendable faucets. It was fantastic, everything Buck wished he could have in his loft. 

As soon as Buck had opened the package of cheese, he could feel eyes on him. It wasn’t Tommy’s gaze, Buck knew what Tommy’s gaze felt like. Tommy was over in the living room though, looking for something. 

Buck’s eyes trailed down to the floor, and right around the corner of the counter that indicated the entrance to the kitchen, only seven inches above the floor were two eyes. 

Two large begging eyes. 

Two large begging eyes belonging to a very cute dachshund who certainly knew how to use them to his advantage. 

Buck turned back to the bag of cheese and grabbed a fingerful. He then squatted on the ground and held his arm out to the dog. “If you’re quiet,” he whispered. “You can have some. Don’t tell Tommy though, I don’t know if you’re supposed to eat this.” 

Bean slowly walked up to the outstretched cheese and gave it a quick sniff, before his small teeth came out and grabbed it from Buck's hand. Buck smiled as he watched the dog eat the small chunk of cheese, how could Tommy have kept this little dude a secret? 

“Found it!” Tommy then yelled out, coming back from the living room as Buck stood up and turned to the oven. 

“What were you looking for in there anyway?” Buck asked. 

Tommy came up behind Buck and wrapped his arms around his torso. “You’ll see later,” he said as he smiled into Buck’s neck. 

As Tommy leant over Buck’s shoulder, looking down at what he was cooking on the stove, they both heard a whining come from the floor below them. Buck looked down, only a step away from both of them stood Bean, staring up at them with his begging and pleading eyes. 

“What is it?” Tommy asked the dog. “Are you hungry?” 

The dog stomped one of his little paws, or he tried to, Buck assumed, it wasn’t that effective when his paw was only a fraction the size of Buck’s hand. 

Tommy chuckled. “I’ll feed you when our dinner is ready.”

Bean obviously hadn’t been satisfied with that answer as he gave another stomp and a small bark. 

Even though Buck wasn’t looking at Tommy, he could feel Tommy roll his eyes at his dog. “Fine,” Tommy sighed as he grabbed a bit of the cheese in one of the bowls on the counter. “I’ll give you some cheese now if you can leave us alone for ten minutes.” 

Buck blinked as he watched Tommy give Bean a piece of cheese. Oh, oh…

That dog had played Buck… oh he was smart. 

[bomberqueen17]

followup: countertops

OK pictures under the cut but before you judge me, understand that i went into this remodel saying "i don't want everything white and gray!!!!" and then one at a time we considered our options and realized the best options were... whites... and grays...

but! the white countertop has SPARKLES in it, and as I tell the saga I will tell you the inside scoop the countertop installer gave me, as to WHAT THE SPARKLES ARE MADE OF.

i would put in a little video of the sparkle but i can't figure out how to upload videos anywhere so just imagine it. you can kind of see it in some of the still images.

[image description: a young man in a gray hoodie and orange gloves rests my not-yet-installed stainless-steel sink on the top of the cabinets in front of my windows, which don't yet have countertops.] These guys rolled up at 8:15 and politely introduced themselves, Devin and Isaac. My buddy Max had already rolled in, but Jim had planned on arriving at 8:30 and was running late.

Devin said to me, excitedly, "Did they tell you? We did it seamless!" There had been discussion of whether the corner section would have to be fabricated in two sections or whether they'd be able to do it in one.

They asked Max about some technical details, but Max demurred, "Jim knows about it, I'm just here to help," and they said "ah we'll wait for Jim" but then they were like "well we can just get started" and as it happens they'd just about finished before Jim finally rolled up, LOL.

They installed the sink first, as it's an undermount and so way easier to do before the counter goes in.

But the counters-- they just-- set them down, checked the level, checked the measurements everywhere, and then just put silicone around the edges underneath and on top. That's literally it. I asked if it was ever more complicated and Devin was like ah yeah if we have to level it there's a whole thing, but. I mean. Jim did this so I knew it'd be this easy, that's why you're first for us today.

[image description: an expanse of speckled white countertop, with reflections from the lights. You can kind of see a speck here and there of the sparkles. the color is somethingorother-snow, because it does glitter like snow.]

I admired the glitter, and Devin said, "Guess what the sparkle's made of!"

"Glass," I hazarded.

"Close," he said, "but no." When nobody else had another guess, he said, "CDs! It's made of CDs." This is a quartz-like-composite kinda thing, which means it kinda looks like stone and is shiny like stone (instead of matte like Corian etc) but won't shatter your plates quite like stone and is easier to maintain.

I texted this to the family groupchat, and VegMan said (my sister must have read it aloud to him, he's not on the family groupchat) "Oh, AOL CDs?" and I texted it to Dude separately and he wrote back "That's like 750000 free minutes of AOL!" and when I repeated these jokes to Devin, Isaac, and Max, they all kind of looked politely blank. "Oh no," I said, "you're too young."

"I was born in 2001," Devin volunteered, and Max laughed and said "same". (I do not think Isaac is any older.) "They used to give me video game CDs in my Happy Meals though so I know what you mean."

I've lived in this house since both of you were four years old, I thought, but did not say. "In 2001 I was..." "Adulting," Devin said helpfully. "You... could call it that," I said, thinking back to my senior year of college.

They brought in the little chunk of counter that's going over next to the fridge, and then the bigger chunk that's the sink counter. Then they brought in the big one they'd managed to do seamless, the L-shaped chunk that goes from the stove around the corner to the expanse in front of the bay window that will be our dining area. Devin and Isaac planned out where they'd go and how they'd get it in the door, because they knew it was heavy. Then they got in the door and Devin said "Max! Max I know I don't know you but I need you to help me!" and Max hustled over and grabbed the heavy end, because it really was too heavy for Devin, and Isaac had the other end so he couldn't help.

It was a strain for both of them, but they carefully got it up onto the cabinets, and slid it painstakingly into place, and Devin took a moment to recover.

[image description: a person in a gray hoodie is sitting on the cardboard-covered floor of a white room with gray cabinets, applying silicone from a tube to the underside of the white countertop]

They checked the levels and measurements and made sure there were no gaps and then they just... glued it. Like not even really glued it they just applied a bead of silicone around all the edges, and that's that.

"Is it really that easy?" I asked, and Devin laughed and said "if it's not perfectly level we have to shim it, and there's a whole lot of complicated stuff we gotta do then, but the reason I put this job first is I know Jim put these cabinets in so I know they're level. And if they're level then yeah this is all that's gotta happen."

They look so good. They sparkle like snow. The room is a sea of neutrals.

[image description: from my living room looking into my kitchen, with the stove pulled out awkwardly into the middle of the floor, one man is standing to work on the counter near the sink and another man is sitting on the floor checking the underside of the counter in front of the window.]

Jim showed up as they were finishing, checked on a few things, signed off on the job, and then he and Max set to tiling the backsplash. Which I will cover in a separate post because this is enough for right now. But.

The counters!!! I wish I could figure out how to make a gif out of a little video on my phone because the SPARKLE. Yeah the white countertops and white walls and white ceilings are a bit much but understand two of the walls and all of the window trim are getting painted some bright color or other, so it won't be like this forever.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Above is the front and back of a unique 1968 Contemporary home in Carlisle, Massachusetts. 3bd 2.5ba listed at $1.375M.

Look at the cute little porch there is as you enter the home. It could be a little conservatory or potting room. 

The living room has lovely windows and a high pitched ceiling.

Beautiful stone wall and fireplace with a mezzanine above. 

A couple steps go up to the formal dining room. Love the big lacy ceiling medallion.

Very large kitchen has lovely pale gray cabinetry and quartz countertops.

Open concept family room off the kitchen.

4 people can fit around the counter for everyday dining.

There’s another stone fireplace in the family room.

A short hallway with a window seat leads to the bedrooms.

The main bedroom has a stone fireplace as well. 

There’s room for a small desk on the mezzanine.

Isn’t this a beautiful sink in the main bath?

Secondary bedroom and bath are nice.

And, the 3rd bd. is used as a children’s room and also has a nice bath.

Look at the nice sunroom in the back of the house.

Plus, there’s a small indoor terrace over it.

And, a family room in the basement.

There’s a large garden and a shed.

The home is on 2.74 acres of land.

https://www.redfin.com/MA/Carlisle/481-Curve-St-01741/home/8468831