#and an island. kitchen aid oven

[liqhtwood]

Kitchen Pantry in Dallas

[pixelsnpaper]

Kitchen Enclosed Inspiration for a mid-sized contemporary l-shaped dark wood floor and brown floor enclosed kitchen remodel with an undermount sink, shaker cabinets, blue cabinets, quartz countertops, white backsplash, stainless steel appliances, an island and white countertops

[fanaticsnail]

Hey! Hope you’re doing well this fine day~ I had a cute idea if u just wanna hear me rant about it.

So imagine teaching Killer a new pasta recipe whether that is a new sauce or new way to cook it and making it for him and watching him literally LIGHT UP with pure glee over how good it is. I say this as I’ve made my grandma’s spaghetti sauce which is STRAIGHT UP ADDICTING every time I make it and gobble it all up. Like the reader can be like a straw hat or kid pirate who is like hey I have this really yummy pasta recipe if you wanna try and afterwards she keeps on exchanging recipes with Killer and lowkey he in love with her mwahahaha (cause as they say in Princess and the Frog “the quickest way to a man’s heart, is through his stomach”). And she cooks it for him since he is always cooking 🥹🥹🥹

Also! I do have to add how much IM OBSESSED with the recent Hey Doc Drabble. Idk if you saw my tags but man I was GOING THROUGH IT. All the sweet nicknames and just the pure desperation for doc to be okay like 😭😭😭 and POOR HEAT AND BUBBLEGUM LIKE AWWWW I need a part 2 to that or SOMETHING just to see an aftermath if you will. Wire calling them “honey” had me WEAK.

Alright imma head out now, have a marvelous day/night 🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️

How did I miss this 😭. Thank you for your beautiful compliments on the 'Hey Doc' series. It's been an absolute joy to write. Reading through tags and reblogs are my favourite: especially when it's as enthusiastic as yours has been. You're so much fun, and I very much appreciate the time you take to read and go through my silly things. I can't write a full fic, but I hope this little drabble satiates the need of cooking with Killer 🖤.

Pasta

Masterlist Here

Word Count: mini-fic, just a little one.

Themes: Killer x reader, fluff, cooking, food, Killer is in awe, you are cooking, and I am hungry.

The one thing he hasn't managed to perfect is a pure, unadulterated Marinara. Anything to do with crushed tomato he finds too acidic, and over compensates with far too much salt to cut the tannins. He's tried everything: more onion, less herbs, malted brown sugar, refining his own salt by storing sea water on the oven, everything. He just can't seem to get it right.

Killer and pasta: his one weakness.

He would never admit it, but he has been attempting to perfect each recipe he comes upon. Pesto is all made from scratch: crushed fresh basil, the purest of virgin olive oils, a parmesan wheel with crispy salt crystals, oven toasted pine nuts, cloves of bulbed garlic, everything perfected by his skill in his kitchen. His pesto pasta is better than Sanji's, and the curly-browed chef is both impressed and intimidated by it.

Watching from a safe distance as you bounce gleefully within the dominion of the kitchen, he hunches his back and places his whiskered chin over his laced fingertips. He was unsure as to why you offered to cook for the crew, but your enthusiasm had him step aside to watch you work. It was the initial confession of homesickness that did it for him. Knowing food can aid in emotional regulation and comfort, he was more than happy to watch from his position sitting at the kitchen island.

And then the smell hit him.

The sweetness of roasting tomatoes, onion, garlic, and the herbal aromatics of thyme, rosemary and sage. The soft waft had his heart swell and beat in his chest and eyes twinkle in curiousity. Stirring the rotund vegetables in the pot and expertly crushing them with the blunt tip of the wooden spoon had him sit up attentively in his seat, watching you as you attend to the sauce from muscle memory alone.

He was in awe, perplexed, and intrigued.

Each time you would move on to another element of the dish, Killer would move a little closer. Each time your back was turned, he would perch himself just a little more towards the simmering pot. When you moved to the pantry to decide which shape of pasta to begin to boil, you could barely make out the shape of Killer's mask being partially elevated over his lips and nose by one large hand. Using a fresh spoon, he dips it into the sauce and puckers his purple-tinted lips and extends a breath of cool air to stifle the heat.

As soon as the first drops meet his tongue, he can't help the soft moan that escapes him at the flavor. Upon your return with a bag of penne in hand, you are immediately hoisted into the air with Killer's hands beneath your arms. Gently spinning you before placing you on the ground, he claps his arms over your shoulders and leans down closer. The purple hue of his lips is stretched up in a smile, his joy at your sauce immediately having him taken aback and fullfilled in the knowledge that he now has the answer he desperately seeks.

"Teach me. Please."

And who were you to deny him? It was a family recipe, and this crew aboard the Victoria Punk was your new family. Gently raising one of your hands to cup over his on your shoulder, you crinkle your nose at him and nod with a smile to match his own.

"Yes, chef."

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady

[badomensbaby]

buzz cut baby. lrh

pairing: luke hemmings x fem!reader

summary: your boyfriend, luke, returns home one night with a surprise. your reaction, however, wasn't exactly what he was expecting.

warnings: 18+ only. minors DNI. safe sane and consensual, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, established relationship, masturbation, flirting / teasing.

words: 3,910

a/n: i hate that i have friends because what the fuck! why do i do this to myself? anyway, i love buzz cut luke. enjoy!

feedback and constructive criticism welcome. requests are open!

Copyright © 2024 badomensbaby. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

You’ve always adored Luke’s curls.

Honestly, they’re probably what drew you to Luke in the first place all those years ago. Initially, anyway. 

It was some influencer party in the hills that your best friend dragged you to as a plus one, citing there would be hot guys and a pool and live music from a top-charting band, that you’d be stupid to decline. That shutting yourself away following your breakup wasn’t the best way to cope. 

And, in a way, you’ll really never be able to thank her for that. If you would’ve fought harder, resisted just the tiniest bit more, you would have never seen those bouncy, bleached curls and dark roots in the kitchen, messing around with a keg he swore harbored a personal vendetta against him. 

His curls might’ve been the reason you noticed him, but everything that followed was Luke just being himself. Stupidly charming but awkward and fumbly, especially when you offered to help and probably got way too close. 

You didn’t know him, not really, and finding out two hours later that you were the reason the band’s frontman was late to play their short set for everyone in attendance was a smack in the face. For all you knew, you were locking lips and clenching your thighs around the long, long fingers of some Hollywood wannabe. 

He wasn’t, though, he was Luke fucking Hemmings. And he had your cum on the edges of his lips while he sang about falling in love for the first time. 

That night was so unlike you. You weren’t fond of hookups, only long-term relationships that seemed to fail for one reason or another, but that didn’t entirely derail you. 

You didn’t know Luke but that night changed the course of both of your lives for the better, you’d like to think.

-

It’s six-thirty in the evening when your phone rings on the island. Interrupting your jam session, aided by the scent of the roasted chicken you’ve had in the oven the last hour and a half, a picture of Luke post-concert with his tongue dragging across your cheek flashing on your screen. 

“Hi, handsome,” You greet him, a smile tugging at your lips. He’s been at the studio since seven, planning the second half of his upcoming tour and reserving hotels with his team. You’ll never understand how he does it. 

“Hi honey,” He drawls softly, a sigh of relief following but there’s a hint of something in his voice that straightens your shoulders and furrows your brows. “What’s my perfect girl up to?”

“Just making dinner,” You say, leaning your backside against the island while you peek once more through the oven window. “How’s work? You almost finished?”

Luke hums in confirmation. “On my way home, actually. And..” He tapers off, the sound of his car chirping faintly in the background as he unlocks it. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“For me?” You feel heat rise instantly to your cheeks. Luke’s always giving you little surprises, likely since he’ll be kicking off the second part of his tour in just about two months means he’s feeling a bit guilty. He had done that during his first round, as well as the band’s tour last year. Luke always hates leaving you. 

“For you,” He hums again. The warmth seeping through your phone’s speaker speaks something else entirely though, a more lustful tilt to his voice. “I’ll be home in thirty. Think you can wait in the bedroom for me, pretty?”

You glance at the timer on the oven. Fifteen minutes until the chicken is done. “I think I can make that work,” You tease lightly, as if you’d ever think about saying no. Time spent with Luke is always appreciated, as you never really know when he’ll be swept away on another tour or some fashion show abroad. “Drive safe. I love you.”

“Always. I love you.” He says before promptly hanging up.

For the next fifteen minutes, you clean up best you can around the kitchen. Not that you had left it a disaster but you couldn’t stand to see a single dish in the sink. Once the chicken had been taken out and covered to keep warm while Luke was giving you your surprise, you trek upstairs with warmth pooling in your stomach and excitement riddling your veins. 

Though the unspoken promise of something intimate had been shared, you still weren’t sure how far exactly you should go. You settle for keeping your current outfit on, a simple sundress Luke had gotten for you the summer before — a baby blue satin fabric with small daisies printed on it, back propped against the headboard and a pillow in your lap as you wasted away the remaining minutes until Luke’s arrival scrolling through Instagram. 

Your toes tingle and your thighs involuntarily clench when you hear the front door fall shut. When Luke’s voice calls out a sing-songy, “Honey, I’m home!” that echoes up the staircase into your bedroom. You toss your phone carelessly aside and sit up, cheeks warm and fingers drumming excitedly on the pillow still in your lap.

“In here!” You call back. 

The sound of Luke’s shoes thump on the staircase, slow and calculated steps that make the warmth in your stomach ignite into a full on flame. Rising to your chest and resulting in your breath speeding up. He stops just outside of the cracked bedroom door. “Cover your eyes for me, would you, doll?”

It isn’t an unusual request, given your bedroom dynamic. So, you comply, placing both hands over your eyes. “Alright, I’m not peeking I swear.” You say. 

The door creaks lightly. “Keep ‘em closed,” You hear him say, a bit closer now. “You’re excited, huh? You’re blushing all over, baby.”

“I like your surprises,” You say honestly, softly, producing a light chuckle from your boyfriend. Your heart rate doubles from the titillation that fills the room. “Is it that pretty see-through set you saw me looking at the other week? I wanted to save that for your birthday, but—“

“Open.” Luke interrupts you lowly. 

You quickly remove your hands, blinking rapidly from the change to the bright room. 

It definitely isn’t that pretty lingerie set. 

A loud, sharp gasp falls from your mouth. You reel back, eyes widened, and goosebumps trail every surface of your flushed skin. 

Long gone are the blonde ringlets and dark roots that curled around the tips of Luke’s ears. The curls that you often found your fingers sinking into for comfort, or for pleasure, the curls you’d wash on the bad days and style on the good ones. 

“You’re bald.” You blurt in a panic. 

Your brain tries, tries so hard to make sense but there’s a big piece of the puzzle missing. Something that’s been such a heavy, big part of Luke for so long. The thing you noticed first about him. Gone. Shaved down and smothered in bleach. 

Luke raises one amused brow but the undertone of his own panic is evident. A nervous chuckle escapes him. “I’m not bald. I just shaved my head,” He says. “Do you.. not like it?”

“I.. don’t know,” You answer honestly in a breath. “I.. your curls.. why did you—?” Slowly, you climb off of the bed, hesitantly approaching your boyfriend standing still near the dresser. “What am I supposed to hold on to while you fuck me now?”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Luke’s shoulders deflate, tension dissipating from them. “Y/N, I’ve talked about shaving my head before. It shouldn’t be that much of a surprise, babe. My ends were dead.”

“Yeah, but—! I thought you were joking!” You splutter, cheeks hot and furiously pink. “What the hell am I supposed to pull on now, your ears? I can’t deal with this right now.” 

“Y/N,” Luke steps toward you, hands hesitantly reaching for your hips to make contact. You let him but your chest continues rising and falling quickly while your eyes roam his short, short hair. “Getting rid of my curls doesn’t mean I’ve gotten rid of my ability to fuck you. What’s going inside your head?”

“It’s — a lot,” You say. “I wasn’t expecting it, like at all,” You reach a hand up to graze the fuzzy top of Luke’s head. It feels weird, the short hairs tickling the palm of your hand. “I’m serious though, Luke. Sex won’t be the same now.”

“That isn’t true,” Luke tugs the corner of his lip between his teeth, a habit still exhibited often despite the lip ring being long gone. “Baby, you know that isn’t true. C’mon, you don’t think I look like some bad boy from one of your romance novels?”

A smile threatens your lips but you stifle it, pursing them. You’re meant to be mad, your brain just can’t compute the sudden change, even if it was the best decision for his bleach-fried curls. You adored them. 

“Shut up,” You huff. “Don’t try to get me on your side.”

“Why? I’m having fun over here,” Luke’s fingers drum on your hips, teasing and threatening to pinch the fabric of your dress between his fingertips. “You’re really this upset about not being able to pull on my hair when I fuck you?”

When he says it like that, you feel stupid. But yes, you are, because it wasn’t something just for you. Luke loved getting his curls tugged while he ate you out, or fucked you, even from behind. He liked the pain, the urgency of it. This isn’t just about you. 

“You like — liked — it too,” Your pink lips jut into a pout. “Maybe I’m being unreasonable but yes— I’m a little upset.”

“Alright,” He hums, digging his fingers momentarily into your hips, thumbing the prominent bones there. He knows you’re sensitive. You think maybe he might part from you, your breaths bated as you hang on to his every movement. “I’ll just have to prove it to you, then.”

You swallow harshly. “Prove what to me?”

“That I can fuck you so well my curls will be the last thing on your mind,” He says, tongue trailing on the inside of his lower lip before clicking off the roof of his mouth. “How many orgasms will it take, huh? I’m thinking three.”

“Oh,” You breathe out. “I don’t know if that’ll be enough.”

“Oh, really?” A crooked grin tugs at Luke’s lips, brows raised curiously. “Four, maybe? I bet if I fuck you stupid long enough you’ll cum without a fucking touch.”

Good Lord.

You can’t trust yourself to respond. Luke isn’t a vulgar person often, and most of the time your bedroom affairs fluctuate depending on either of your mood. One night you could be draped over the mattress with Luke’s tongue tracing his own name on your heat and another riding him with slow, slow tilts of your hips as the sun comes up. It’s never the same experience twice. 

But this time — you have a feeling tonight will blow every other night out of the water. 

“Guess I should start off with an apology,” He mutters, almost missable between your ears, words lagged and not understood before Luke’s dropping to his knees before you. Wide, soft blue eyes with inky, dark lashes blinking up at you. Ringed fingers still clasping your hips. 

It takes you a moment to realize he’s silently asking for permission, as he does often, and you nod. Your tongue is so tied you’re afraid nothing good will escape your mouth if you were to make an attempt to respond verbally. Luke’s hands slowly slide along the fabric loosely clung to your thighs, speed consistent as he grabs hold of the hem and brings it upward. 

With one hand balled around the fabric of your dress, resting just below your stomach, you feel Luke’s warm fingers trace the material of your underwear. Teasing you. Taunting you. All the while your handsome boyfriend keeps his eyes locked on yours, a startled breath is knocked out of you when he begins mouthing at your clothed heat. Teeth threatening your covered clit. 

He’s always been impatient, and that sentiment proves right once again as he tugs the material to the side and wastes no time tasting you. Wedging himself between your thighs even as they rumble, even if the position isn’t the most desirable. His tongue traces every inch sincerely, writing his apology in the form of circles and figure eights and capturing your clit between his lips so suddenly it makes your knees threaten to buckle. 

You feel it in the way he moans at the simplest taste of you, the I’m sorry he hadn’t said aloud. You feel it in the way his fingers eagerly slide alongside his tongue and fill you, keeping you steady despite the desperation to fall apart right there. 

“Luke,” You whimper helplessly, his eyes threatening to fall away from yours and flutter closed in pure bliss. He loves this just as much as you do, if not more. This man was made to eat pussy. You’d bet your life on it. “God-“

He takes your strained whines and moans and ragged breaths endearingly, curling his fingers to reach the perfect spot that pulls a broken moan from deep within you. Every shake of your thighs, every wave of pleasure that builds in the pit of your stomach and threatens to crash over you, he eagerly takes it in stride. Luke knows you won’t last long but surely he’s counting on it. 

His mouth retreats, fingers still curled inside and finding every spot that makes you whimper. Luke looks fucking wrecked already, and if you thought you were in for it before, the sight of Luke spitting directly onto your clit nearly makes you cum on the spot. It’s demeaning and dirty in the best way, before eye contact is fully broken and Luke dives back in like he’ll never taste you again. 

It’s mainly his eagerness that turns you on the most. The desire he possesses to pleasure you, to worship you. You feel it when Luke begins to suck on your clit again, the dam threatening to break and drown you both. Without a thought, your hand flies to his head, grasping the back of it and holding him against you. Orgasm building and building, prickling the base of your spin and the tips of your toes, stomach tightening as he works his fingers and tongue in some kind of foreplay crescendo. 

The violins and cellos that resemble moans from the man with his tongue buried inside of you and the ones spilling from your lips build until you’re letting go. It feels insatiable. And you’re absolutely blubbering just as much as you rock through it, Luke’s fingers slowing and tongue working to lap every remnant of your release in earnest. 

Your mind feels hazy, post-orgasm, knees weak as Luke’s arm slithers around your backside to keep you upright. You spare a glance at him, when the bleariness fades from your vision, to see his lips glistening beneath the bedroom lights. Tongue dancing around every inch of his mouth to capture your taste and savor it. “I don’t know if I accept your apology yet.” You huff between broken breaths, thumb idly swaying back and forth across the side of his head. 

A look of challenge flashes in Luke’s eyes. “I figured,” He says, thumb swiping the top of his lip before dragging his tongue along the digit. Luke slowly rises to his feet. “Let’s get you more comfortable, hm?”

You nod, despite the lack of explanation as to what more comfortable really means, as you’re being handled rather briskly and bent over the edge of your bed. A small oh escapes you. 

“Get those knees up, doll. I can’t be doing all the work here,” Luke says, tapping your thighs. Sluggishly, you do as he says, now on your hands and knees, ankles just barely hanging off the bed’s edge. “Hm.”

Your dress is rucked up once more, now pooling around your lower back, underwear still pulled to the side and a low whistle sounds from behind you. “Fucking beautiful, you know that?” Luke groans lowly. “I swear to God, need a picture of your pussy in my wallet.”

You can’t help but moan. Luke’s belt clanks as he unfastens it, clattering to the floor, jeans sliding down his legs. You spare a glance, to see the material gathered at his mid-thigh. He hadn’t taken them off entirely. And for some reason, you find it hot how needy he is for it. 

“Maybe I’ll take a picture,” He continues, as you feel the tip of his cock drag slowly through your wetness, slicking himself. Preparing himself to utterly destroy you as promised. “After I’ve filled you up. Huh? How ‘bout that? A picture of my pretty girl’s pretty pussy full of my cum.”

Your arms wobble, sending your chest directly into the mattress. Only further aiding the ease of Luke entering you, slick and warm and thick as he slides in so effortlessly with a low hiss. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

“Yes— God, oh my—“ You mutter against the sheets, turning your head so that your cheek is flat against the soft material. Luke buries himself to the hilt, one hand fastened on your hip while the other is splayed and slowly traveling up your lower back to grab the fabric of your dress. Holding you in place. “Luke, please.”

“Since you’re begging so nicely, my perfect girl,” He says, pulling back only to bury himself inside you once more. It’s so wet and slick and obscene, the sound bouncing off of your bedroom walls alongside his low grunts and your sharp breaths. The angle alone is enough to make you cum, combined with the sensitivity from your orgasm. Luke continues the slow motions, withdrawing his cock only to sink back in. “What’s the matter, baby?”

“Too slow,” You grumble. “Faster. Please— for fucksake.”

“Oh, you poor thing. Gagging for it,” He sighs in faux-annoyance, but you know he’s just as desperate to fill you, to claim you and leave you a mess. “As you wish.”

The curled fist against the middle of your back presses harder, pushing your chest flush with the bed with no room for movement. Fingernails sink into the soft flesh of your thighs as Luke’s cock withdraws slowly, one final time, before thrusting so harshly a broken moan is pulled from your throat. No mercy is evident in the way he fucks you, like it’s all you’re meant for, the tip of his cock nudging that spot just barely.

Tears pool in the corners of your eyes. 

“God baby, this pussy was made just for me. So fucking warm and wet,” Luke grits out between harsh exhales through his nose. “Taking my cock so well.”

“Luke,” You reach out desperately, fumbling to grab the sheets between your fingers as your body rocks from his thrusts. He’s been intense like this before, long ago, but you’d be a fucking liar if you said you hadn’t longed for it on the occasion. “Fuck, you feel so good. Please— please don’t stop.”

“I’d be an idiot to stop,” Luke says. “Christ, Y/N, you’re fucking soaked. It’s so fucking hot.”

A sudden wave of something hits you full force. Something more powerful than an average orgasm. Your thighs quiver so harshly that they cramp, Luke’s cock nudging the perfect spot dead on and the only sounds escaping you are desperate pleas and whines that can’t be deciphered. Your head feels like jello, holding on to something that’s begging to be free. So, you do. 

“Oh, fuck—“

The pleasure is almost blinding. Your body feels so warm, on fire practically, and Luke’s thrusts stutter. “Did you just—“

He doesn’t need to ask. You did, you both know it. The way your release floods your thighs, Luke’s cock and dampens the sheets. It’s only happened twice in the time you two have been together, and squirting definitely isn’t something you’ve practiced. 

“Oh fuck, Y/N-“ Luke whines. Broken and breathy, nails digging into your hip so harshly for dear life as he buries himself inside you fully one last time, panting your name on an endless loop as he comes undone. “Fuck.”

After a moment, Luke slowly retracts, and the sound of knees hitting the bedroom floor is unmistakable. You’re in no state to move, vision speckled and blurred, while you somehow manage to keep yourself upright. You aren’t sure if minutes pass or seconds, but you jump slightly when Luke’s hands softly clasp the back of your thighs. 

“This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Luke says weakly. “Holy shit, Y/N. What a fucking masterpiece.”

No doubt he’s taken a photo or two. Or three, or ten. Luke’s just sentimental like that.

You slowly attempt to rise on shaky arms, but Luke presses his thumbs into your skin with a tut. “Hold on, baby,” He says. The words for what sit on the tip of your tongue but Luke’s actions prevent you from asking, as a sudden warmth meets your most sensitive spot. 

Is he—?

Fuck. 

The tip of Luke’s nose ghosts the soft skin between your holes, as his tongue works to clean the mess you and he had made together. Catching every last bit, with hungry little groans. All you can do is sit and relish in it, in Luke’s desperation to taste himself inside you once more, that you don’t really register a slickness that isn’t due to your boyfriend’s current activity. 

Weakly, you spare a glance between your legs to catch sight of Luke’s arm furiously working. He’s getting off, you realize. To tasting his own cum inside you. 

Luke groans weakly against your pussy, lips quivering and he’s likely finished all over himself. The warmth that floods your stomach is preposterous. Luke backs off. 

“You were that desperate?” You ask, finally turning onto your side to see Luke, pink-cheeked kneeling beside the bed. Eyes wide and glossy as they meet yours. “You got off to eating me out? After cumming inside me?”

“Well, I—“ Luke clears his throat. “M’fucking weak for it, you know that. After I took a picture I just— fuck off.” He turns away, clearly embarrassed. 

“You’re cute,” You laugh softly, thoroughly exhausted and sweaty and way too warm than is desirable right now. “I accept your apology, by the way.”

“Figured,” Luke says. “You didn’t have time to think about my curls,” Reminded once more of the short hair that decorates Luke’s head, your lips part to defend yourself but Luke holds up a silencing finger. “Don’t even, Y/N. You know how long I’ve been dying to make you squirt like that—“

“Luke Robert Hemmings!” You gasp. 

“Just saying! More important things happening than my hair. I need to remember what I did so I can make you do that again-“

“That’s enough out of you, Slim Shady,” You shake your head, cheeks a roaring pink much like Luke’s. His jaw drops from the nickname, slinking back, cock half massed and hanging out of his boxers. “You heard me.”

Luke’s eyes narrow. Before you know it, he’s reaching for your ankles and a squeal escapes you. 

You’re definitely in for a long night. 

You may have always adored Luke’s curls, but you love him just the same without them. 

[flavored-soda]

takeout and makeout

Rating: Mature

Warnings: small makeout scene, and implied sexual content

Word Count: 1.5k (short and sweet)

Pairing: BuckTommy/Tevan/Kinley

Summary: Buck panics while making dinner for date night. Tommy is there is calm him down. It leads to a confession and leftovers/takeout.

read on ao3 | heed the tags and warnings | posted for @bucktommyweek

The smell of freshly baked chicken was permeating the house, almost mocking Buck as he fretted around the kitchen. The sound of the water starting to boil was setting him on edge. He felt like he didn’t have enough hands, enough focus. He kept going between chopping vegetables and forgetting to put the pasta in the pot. The occasional peak in the oven was not doing anything to calm his nerves. Realistically, he knew that the chicken was nowhere near done yet but his fried nerves were telling him it was already burned.

He turned back to the counter, finishing chopping up the last carrot. He went to reach for the bag of potatoes and his hand met the cold marble of the countertop. 

Oh no. 

No, no, no.

He forgot the potatoes.

His mind flashed him back to the store run he did a little over two hours earlier. He went specifically because he knew he forgot something. He chalked it up to butter or chives or toilet paper. But no, it had to be the potatoes.

He sent down the knife he was holding, placing both his hands on the counter. The rolling boil of the water was starting to drive him a little bit more mad and the smell of the chicken was starting to give him a headache. His apron was starting to feel too tight and the wine bottle on the counter was starting to call to him.

To top it all off this wasn’t even his kitchen. The unfamiliarity of the space was making his head spin faster.

“By the sink, baby.” A voice came from the kitchen entrance. The familiarity of it shook Buck out of his panic.

He looked up from the counter, letting the words sink in as he turned around. Tommy’s sink was in the middle of his kitchen island. When he turned to face it, sure enough, he saw a small bag of potatoes resting not too far from the sinking. He moved from his sulking position from the counter and grabbed the bag. He gave himself a minute to calm down from the initial alarm of missing ingredients. He turned back around to his chopped carrots and cutting board.

He gave himself one more moment before going to open the bag of potatoes and pull one out. He rinsed it off, placed it on the board, and went to make the first cut. Something must have happened in the moments between when he placed the potato on the cutting board and pressed the knife into it. The hand that was holding the knife slipped and the next thing he knew he let out a hiss and the knife clattered to the counter. 

His hand shot up to assess the damage. It didn’t look deep, he could get by with cleaning it and a band-aid. He went to turn around, to maybe head towards Tommy’s bathroom and search the medicine cabinet, or rummage through a junk drawer in the kitchen in hopes that he would find one. But when he turned around he nearly ran into his boyfriend who looked more than a little concerned.

Before Buck could pull his hand away, say anything remotely close to “where do you keep your first aid kit,” Tommy had grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand towards him. He gave Buck a similar inspection to the one he gave himself before pulling the younger towards the sink. He kept a firm but gentle grip on Buck’s hand while he turned on the water and tested the temperature. 

Buck couldn’t help but stare at the older man as he pulled his hand under the water. He winced as the water hit the cut and watched as Tommy’s expression softened. He turned the water off, holding Buck’s hand over the sink while he grabbed him a paper towel and held it against the wound. The soft touch continued even when Tommy turned slightly to reach into a drawer. He pulled out a small first aid kit, opening it with one hand before pulling out a band-aid.

He watched closely as Tommy wrapped the bandage around his injured finger, holding his hand for a second longer before pulling it up to his lips, and placing a soft kiss to the covering.

“There. All better.” Tommy said as he brought his gaze back up to meet Buck’s.

God, he was so in love with this man.

Tommy froze.

Oh.

Oh no.

He said that out loud didn’t he?

“T-Tommy…I-uh…” He didn’t know what exactly he was playing on saying. 

What were you supposed to say after accidentally admitting you’re in love with your boyfriend that you’ve only been with for a few months? Was he even supposed to say anything? Or was he just supposed to stand here opening and closing his mouth and blubbering like a damn fish?

Tommy still had Buck’s hand in his, a gentle touch and an unreadable expression on his face. Buck was starting to feel that panic set in again, the one he started to feel when he first thought he forgot about the potatoes. His senses were starting to pick up on the littlest things, like the water bubbling and boiling over the pot and splashing onto the stove top with a hiss. The smell of the chicken was starting to become sickening. The feeling of Tommy’s hand holding his, how his hands were starting to feel clammy, was starting to make him itch. His eyes were darting around Tommy’s face, trying to catch any change in his expression, anything to give him peace of mind. 

He was so focused on every other little thing around him that he didn’t even realize that Tommy was starting to move. He didn’t even realize it until he was leaning into soft and familiar lips that were pressing against his. 

His body moved on its own. His lips pressing back into his boyfriend’s. Tommy used the hold he had on Buck’s hand to pull him into his body. Buck went willing, moving his hands to his boyfriend’s hips. Tommy placed his own hands on Buck’s waist, pulling him in closer and closer until they were tripping over each other and moving to stabilize themselves up against the counter.

Buck let out a surprised gasp and Tommy swallowed it down. The older man let out his own little “hmph,” as he did. They pushed into each other, using their tongues to explore each other’s mouths like they had done a thousand times before. Buck ran his hands up to Tommy’s sides and back down to his hips, pulling at his shirt to try to pull him in closer. He wanted to be one with the older, wanted to melt into him and stay there forever.

Tommy pulled back to catch his breath, resting his forehead against Buck’s. Both their eyes were closed, just living in the moment. Buck could feel himself smiling.

“I love you too, Evan.” 

Buck somehow smiled even wider. He opened his eyes, pulling back to search Tommy’s face for something. Sincerity? Doubt? He wasn’t sure. He just needed to know that this wasn't a dream and Tommy meant it. He was more than relieved when he found nothing but love in Tommy’s eyes. So full of it they were sparkling. He went to lean again, ready to get lost in his boyfriend for the hundredth time.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

He was stopped by the oven timer going off. 

He looked to Tommy and found the older man smiling almost as wide as he was. They both broke out into laughter. Leaning into each other as they calmed down. 

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“I should–uh–probably get that.” Buck said, making no move to actually break away from his boyfriend and pull their dinner from the oven.

“Yeah. You probably should.” Tommy replied, also making no effort to move away. 

The oven went off again and Buck had decided that he wasn’t going to be the reason that a fire started in Tommy’s kitchen. He moved back slowly, Tommy sticking close by with a hand on his hip. 

Buck pulled the kitchen from the oven, it was only a little bit charred. He set the dish down on a hot pad. He looked towards the forgotten carrots and potatoes, and the boiling pot on the stove and sighed. Tommy turned off the stove before he could even say anything. He came up behind Buck, wrapping his arms around the younger man’s middle and resting his chin on Buck’s shoulder.

“You know, we could just order takeout?” 

Buck smiled before looking at the mess in the kitchen.

“What about the chicken?” 

“Food’s always better the second day.” Tommy angled his head to start pressing kisses to Buck’s neck.

“What about the mess?” Buck whispered, tilting his head to give Tommy move access.

“Clean up the important stuff now, leave the rest for tomorrow.”

He turned in Tommy’s hold to face him. Tommy changed his position, putting his hands on the countertop next to his lover, caging him in. Buck smirked, his gaze flicking between his boyfriend’s lips and eyes.

“The food is going to take awhile to get here.”

Tommy returned the look that Buck was giving him. They stood there drinking in each other’s expressions.

“I can think of a few ways to kill time.” Tommy said before leaning in again and catching Buck’s lips in a kiss again. 

They never did get around to placing a take out order.

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Earpiece Patch

Characters: Clint Barton, Kate Bishop, Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Clint and Kate seek you out for some tech assistance after a mission gone wrong.

Kate looked at the broken hearing aid that Clint was holding tightly and felt a little bad about the whole incident. Wanting to make it up to her hero, she perked up and bumped his shoulder. He looked at her.

“I know someone who can get that fixed.” She told him momentarily forgetting that he couldn’t hear her clearly.

Clint squinted at her, trying to read her lips but the young girl spoke too fast so he shook his head and spoke over her.

“I didn’t understand a word you said.” He said and then lifted the earpiece. “I know someone who can fix this.”

Kate shrugged and continued to follow his lead.

They ended up at a fancy house completely decked out with holiday decorations much to Kate’s excitement when she saw the glass panelled door.

“Whoa, who lives here? They’ve got nice taste.” Kate complimented as she walked up the small stairs to the front porch. “Very exquisite-hey!”

To her surprise, the bow in her hand was quickly taken away by Clint who tossed it, and his own bow, into the hedges and out of sight.

“What was that for?”

“We’re here for a casual visit. So no bows.” Clint explained, guessing that she had just asked a question from the way she frowned. He pressed the doorbell and waited as the lights flashed blue. The duo waited for a silent minute, Kate rocking on her heels.

“Maybe no one’s home?” She considered but it fell on partially-deaf ears.

Just as she was about to tap Clint on the shoulder and repeat herself, the lock clicked from inside and the door swung open revealing another Avenger that Kate was obsessed with.

Y/n - dubbed ‘the most badass Avenger’ by Kate - was holding a box of Hulk-green baubles under one arm while tinsel was hanging around their neck, a few loose flecks making it to their forehead.

When you saw the pair, you mouth turned upward into a grin.

“Hi, what an unexpected surprise!” You said and set the baubles on the ground. Crossing the threshold, you wrapped your arms around Clint first and then stepped over to Kate to repeat the motion. The young archer may have received a face full of gold tinsel but the hug was so warm, Kate almost didn’t want to let go until Clint cleared his throat.

Kate released her hold and stepped back completely elated to be meeting another hero. She was going to keep her cool. She was going to be very chill and relaxed and…

“I love you.” She blurt out.

Clint’s hearing may have been difficult but he knew what those words sounded like no matter how unclear. He closed his eyes and exhaled.

“God.”

Kate quickly tried to explain her outburst. “I mean, I love you as an Avenger! Not that I don’t love you as a person because I do but you’re so badass when you’re fighting bad guys you should do it more. Not like I want bad guys constantly attacking you or anything. I’m just going to stop… talking… now.”

You found Kate to be incredibly sweet and adoring. You had experience with fans who were very vocal about you being an Avenger. Reassuring the young woman that she hadn’t said anything offensive, you stepped to the side.

“Come in, I had gingerbread in the oven. Could use a hand with decorating since Scott rushed out to get some extra supplies.”

“Scott as in Scott Lang? The Antman?” Kate repeated.

You chuckled, sending her a wink. “The very same.”

Clint walked in with Kate eagerly following behind. It was everything she had imagined your home to look and feel. They entered the large kitchen area and took some seats at the island bench where all the decorating tools were sitting ready. You headed to the oven to retrieve the gingerbread cookies instantly filling the air with a warm gingery aroma. You carefully brought them back to the bench and took off the oven mitts, opening your palm towards Clint.

“Let’s see it.” You said.

Chuckling, Clint tilted his head and glanced over to Kate who shrugged. You smirked and tapped a hand on the bench top, illuminating the surface in a similar light to the doorbell. You skimmed your fingers hand across the surface and sent a video to the pair showing them footage of themselves at the doorstep hastily tossing their bows and weapons into the bushes.

“…ah.” Clint nodded.

Kate cleared her throat, “To be 100% transparent, he caught me off guard.”

You smirked at the young girl. “Welcome to ‘Avenger-ing’.” You then quirked a brow to your long-time friend and watched him reach into his pocket to pull out his hearing aid. He handed it over and you assessed the damage by holding it up to the light.

“Looks like someone stepped on it.” You guessed and brought it back down. Stepping back, you looked at the cabinets and opened the second last one to reveal a box. Lifting it, you set it on the bench and started to rummage through the contents for the right pliers and tools.

“I can fix this in no time.” You confirmed, your words being subtitled on the bench top. “In the meantime, you could pay me back by helping to frost these.”

Kate grinned excitably and looked to her hero on the side as if for permission. Clint picked up a cookie and shrugged.

“It’s Christmas, why not.”

Masterlist here

[oleander-nin]

Flirting and Feelings(Rise! Leo x Reader)

A/N, not important: Hate this with all my heart. I can't write. Going to scream. This was going to be so much longer, but if I have to spend any more time on it, I'm going to rip my hair out. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: bad writing, emotions, Leo gets really anxious for a minute there

Words: 1485

Summary: ROTTMNT Leo decided to boldly flirt but the reader thinks he's making fun of them.

Leo keeps his gaze on the human in the doorway, a dreamy look in his eyes as he watches them laugh with Mikey in the kitchen. It was hard for Leo to stay silent, wanting nothing more than to go up to his crush friend and start talking to them. Being able to only watch the two talk, the two cook, hurt. Leo had talked to Mikey earlier to confirm they didn’t each have a crush on the same person, Leo almost giddy with joy when Mikey denied feeling any romantic attraction towards (Y/n). Leo was confident Mikey remembered the plan, Mikey having felt bad for Leo’s inability to converse with his crush. All Leo needed to do was wait for the signal, and he could go talk to (Y/n). Alone. Leo gulped, taking in a deep breath trying to calm his nerves. He’d have to wait for them to put whatever they were making into the oven first anyway, he had time. He just had to memorize what to say.

Leo looks back to his phone, a light dust of red across his snout and spreading to his cheek bone refuses to fade, the anticipation making his heart beat furiously. The wikiHow article wasn’t the most helpful, but it was better than Donnie’s advice.(He appreciated it, but Leo had the feeling that ignoring (Y/n) and not talking to them at all wouldn’t help.) The only thing that resonated with Leo was to flirt. Leo was confident he could do that, and most likely do it well. Leo was the face man after all, smooth talking was his thing!

Leo’s head perks up once more as he hears the shut of the oven, Mikey saying something to (Y/n) Leo couldn’t quite hear. Leo watches carefully as Mikey exits the kitchen with his hands behind his back, whistling the opening tune to the Jupiter Jim 8 episode mini series: The Galactic 7. Mikey winks at Leo before going down one of the many adjoined tunnels in the lair, leaving Leo’s sight. Leo beams, his hands tapping his thighs nervously. The whistling tune was the signal, he had around 30 minutes to go do what he wanted. A romantic confession between two people who were certainly destined to fall in love. At least, that’s what Leo hoped.

Swallowing his fear, Leo stands up and rubs his sweaty palms on his bike shorts, making his way to the kitchen. Knocking slightly on the wooden cabinet by the entrance to alert them to his presence, Leo shoots (Y/n) the smuggest grin he could muster. (Y/n) gives Leo a small wave return, acknowledging him before returning back to their phone. Leo’s confidence crumbles slightly at this, having wanted a more definite confirmation that he was welcome in their presence. Leo shrugs it off though, his wide grin still plastered on his face despite the vice around his chest.

Leo leans against the island counter, drumming his knuckles against the hard surface. (Y/n) glances at Leo, their eyes scanning his as they attempt to decipher what the turtle mutant was doing. Leo picks up one of his hands, halting the small rhythm being beaten into the faux wood surface and gives (Y/n) a small wave. Leo’s face softens as the human rolls their eyes, chuckling softly. The butterflies tormenting his stomach calm slightly, his chest filling with air once more.

“You feeling okay?” The sudden sound of their voice makes Leo jump slightly, the haze lifting off his brain. Leo lets out a small laugh, a brighter, softer smile replacing the previous smug one.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Do you have a Band-aid though?” Leo’s confidence quickly returns as he asks his question, his brain staticky as he tries to keep his hands from shaking. This was it. He was going to tell them. Sure, he was going to tell them through a dorky pick-up line, but tell them nonetheless.

(Y/n) shifts in their position, putting their phone on the island as they pat their pockets. They frown slightly, looking up at Leo with concern that made his heart melt. “Nope, sorry. Do you need me to run to the bathroom to get you one?”

Leo just about died at that, feeling touched they cared enough to offer to go get one for him. He felt slightly guilty now, knowing he wasn’t actually injured. “No, it’s fine. I just scraped my knees when I fell for you.” Leo accompanies the delivery of the line with a wink, a small blush adorning his face once more. It felt off to Leo, he knew he said it wrong. It didn’t flow out of his mouth the way he wanted it to, and he felt his chest tighten up again. Leo scans their face, his bright smile seeming more nervous as he awaits (Y/n)’s response.

And waited.

And waited.

Leo’s smile falls completely at (Y/n)’s reaction, or lack thereof, as he starts twiddling with his fingers laughing nervously. (Y/n)’s face is blank, their forefinger tapping the counter as they look at Leo with their eyebrows furrowed. Leo didn’t understand. He expected a reaction at the very least, not judging silence. Leo chewed on the inside of his cheek, laughing nervously as he opened his mouth to speak. “Hey, look I’m-”

“Don’t say something you don’t mean.”

Leo’s taken aback by their sudden words, their face not changing from the annoyed look. Leo sinks slightly at the interruption, not knowing how to respond. “Excuse me?”

(Y/n) sighs, their body shifting to lean on their right arm while their left hand pinches the bridge of their nose in frustration. They let out a tired sigh, and Leo’s heart sinks into his stomach. Leo didn’t understand what he did wrong. Were they mad at him? Why was their first thought that Leo was lying? Did they really dislike Leo this much?

“The pick-up line. Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.” They finally clarified, their arms now crossed. Leo pats his thighs awkwardly, feeling stupid and pathetic. How did he mess up so badly he made the one person he finally loved believe his feelings were a joke? Leo regretted trying, regretted not listening to Donnie. Maybe this all would’ve gone better if Leo just ignored his feelings until they disappeared.

Leo racks his brain, trying to find the best way to explain why he did what he did. In the end, only four simple words popped out. “I meant every word.”

(Y/n) gives Leo a look he can’t quite decipher, his mask mimicking furrowing eyebrows as he scans them. (Y/n) visibly chews on their cheek, huffing slightly. “Do you mean it?”

Leo nods, swallowing nervously as his fingers tap out a nonsensical rhythm into the counter. (Y/n)’s face finally has a smile, small chuckles falling from their lips. (Y/n) reaches their hand out, setting it on top of Leo’s own shaking appendage. Leo’s eyes softened, his face one of worry but it was starting to settle. Leo meets (Y/n)’s eyes, trying to figure out the meaning of anything (Y/n) was doing.

“I like you too, Leo.”

Leo freezes at this, his brain frying for a moment as he processes (Y/n)’s words. They like him back. They like him back. Leo’s face finally breaks from the stress filled gaze as a large smile kicks his frown out of place. Leo pats the counter, his brain buzzing with excitement. Leo rounds the island while (Y/n) watches with a smile, a loud laugh coming from their mouth when Leo pulls them into a tight hug. Leo feels their arms wrap around him, their hands resting in the middle of his carapace. Leo was shaking slightly, his brain running a mile a minute as he held (Y/n) close. (Y/n) pats Leo’s back, pushing him off slightly as they let out an awkward laugh. Leo lets go, an embarrassed blush tinting his green cheeks red. Leo pats his thighs twice, looking around the kitchen to avoid (Y/n)’s gaze. 

“So….” Leo starts, still avoiding (Y/n)’s eyes. Leo watches them lean their back against the wall, the dopey grin on (Y/n)’s face making Leo’s heart flutter. (Y/n) motions one of their hands in a circle, prompting Leo to continue. “Would you like to become my partner?”

(Y/n) snorts at this, laughing at his choice in wording. The human flashes Leo a wide smile, looking at Leo endearingly. “In crime, or romantic? Because both are a yes.”

Leo quickly pulls (Y/n) into another hug, rambling on and on about how happy he was, his voice loud as he cheers. (Y/n) just hugs Leo back and lets him ramble, happy to be in the moment.

[daydreaming-en-pointe]

A very Spidey Christmas - Margo

Pairing: Margo Kess x Reader (written with fem!reader in mind, but I don’t think there’s anything that restricts it to that?? idk) (Hobie, 1610!Miles, 42!Miles, Gwen and Pavitr are here too!)

Word count: 759

Warnings: Both Miles squabbling like a pair of toddlers, pet names (sweetheart, sweetie, love) mistletoe, descriptions of a kiss! idk if I’m any good at it 😔

A/N: first time writing for Margo! Idk exactly how to write for her but I do hc that she’d be the best at calming ppl down and tries to avoid/de-escalate conflict as much as she can because it reminds her of her parents fighting 💔

In hindsight, maybe providing 5 spider-teenagers (and one Prowler) with an oven, baking ingredients, and your favourite sugar cookie recipe wasn’t the greatest idea.

Miles and the other Miles had “accidentally” thrown flour at each other more times than you could count, Gwen almost burnt butter (how on earth do you manage to burn butter?) and was in the bathroom nursing a small cut she had gotten while handling a knife, Pavitr somehow got baking powder in his nose and sneezed for 7 minutes straight, and you realized you didn’t have any icing sugar so you sent Hobie and Margo out on a quick trip to the grocery store.

Pavitr patted your shoulder gently, noticing your growing stress as you made sure the oven was off. A fire was the last thing you needed right now. “Don’t worry, they’ll be back soon- Miles, for the love of god! Aata phekna band karo! (Stop throwing flour)”

“Sorry!” “He started it. It’s not my fault he can’t take what he’s trying to give out!” “I started it?! Wh-”

“The cavalry ‘as arrived!” You looked up and sighed in relief as Hobie kicked open the door like someone straight out of an action movie, Margo close behind, her arms filled with grocery bags.

“You okay, sweetheart?” She asked as you went over to her, taking the grocery bags and kissing her cheek. “You look stressed.”

“I mean…” You vaguely gestured around the crowded kitchen, and everyone paused whatever they were doing to wave at the new arrivals. “But I know they’re all trying their best. Well, maybe not the other Miles.”

“Miles, knock it off,” Margo called out sternly, giving the one from earth-42 a death glare. “Both of you. I don’t care who started it. I’m ending it. Okay, sweetie, what’s first?”

You got out your recipe, laying the paper on the counter and standing between both versions of Miles. Gwen got back from the bathroom at that moment, wrapping a sparkly band-aid around her ring finger. You must’ve looked really concerned for her, because she held out her hand to soothe your worries. “I’m fine, don’t worry. Just a flesh wound.”

“Okay, uh… Margo, could you get the baking powder, please? Don’t let Pav get anywhere near it. No, Pav, it’s not because you’re clumsy, it’s just… I just don’t want you to sneeze so hard that your nose starts bleeding. Gwen, can you handle the mixing bowl? See, Pav, you can find the spoons and help her with the mixing. Hobie, could you find the baking trays? Thank you!”

The next few minutes were filled with the sound of the baking spoon scraping the bowl with all the ingredients, Gwen’s occasional tapping with the wooden utensils (drummer’s instincts, she explained), and your instructions.

“Pavi, that’s not enough sugar. Miles - sorry, not you, the other Miles-”

“Milo,” Hobie helpfully added, sitting cross-legged on the kitchen island as he helped (1610) Miles make the icing.

“Okay, Milo - the heat’s too high. Gwen you’re not adding enough flour… Margo the recipe needs more baking powder or it’ll fall flat-”

“Hey, hey, look at me.” Margo gently took your face in her hands, splaying her fingers across your cheeks and making you focus on her. She brought her thumb up to smoothie out the crease in between your eyebrows. “Shh. We got this, okay? You don’t need to worry. You’re stressing yourself out, love.”

“But I-”

“Look, mistletoe!” Margo webbed a sprig of mistletoe from the living room and pulled it toward her, attaching it to the ceiling above you before practically lunging forward and pressing her lips against yours, her arms coming to loop around your waist.

You allowed yourself to relax in her warm embrace, inhaling slowly. She smelled like a blend of buttery popcorn and car air freshener, and her lips were soft against yours and tasted vaguely of vanilla and oranges - a combination that felt all too familiar, for some reason…

“Feeling better now?”

“Yeah, slightly. Hang on, is that my lip balm?” You asked once she broke away to get some air. She gave a sheepish chuckle, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“Noooo, it’s our lip balm now.”

“Listen, you two are very sweet, but if ya could go snog somewhere else that’d be great, yeah? I don’t know any first aid if ya catch on fire, and you’re very close to the oven,” Hobie interrupted, gently nudging you and Margo to one side and putting the tray of flattened cookie dough balls into the oven.

“British people are all so rude,” Margo stuck her tongue out at Hobie, whose eyebrows raised so high you thought they might reach his hair if he kept going.

“She’s got a point,” Pav chimed in through a mouthful of the first experimental batch of cookies - they had been burnt slightly around the edges, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Pav, my guy, you too?!”

@vhstown (dw u are a lovely britisher who is a wonderful writer and not at all rude 🙏 still on the fence abt absent father dearest tho 😞 /j no he is a very lovely and talented britisher too) @l0starl @therealloopylupin2099 @hobiebrownismygod @deritosmi @tatumis-a

[rustedhearts]

hurting yourself baking christmas cookies with bossy boxer!steve and being pouty about it because i’m feeling a certain way!

“ouch!”

steve jerks awake in his armchair in the living room. the movie he fell asleep to was no longer playing, and the room had darkened to a dull blue hue. how long was he asleep? he checks his watch and rubs his eye all the same.

“fuck, fuck-owww.”

but the anguished whines of his wife in the kitchen had him leaping from his chair and hurrying into across the house. he stumbled into a wall along the way, a little woozy on his feet. when he made it to the kitchen, he found you cradling your hand with a soured expression.

“oh, sweetheart,” he sighed, curling his fingers around your wrist to bring you close. “what’d you do? hmm?”

you unfurled your fingers and showed him the wound: a gnarly burn swelling and pulsing with stinging pain. steve frowned when he saw it, and leaning down to kiss it with a gentle mouth came like reflex.

“it was an accident,” you sniffled, eyes welling with tears. you felt silly, really. “i was just…”

“doin’ too much? stressin’ yourself out?” steve mused, quirking a brow knowingly when he looked up from your hand.

your lip jutted out in a pout. “no. i’ve wanted to make these cookies for days, and-and i’ve been putting them off ‘cause jane’s had all these events—and—“

“sweetheart, sweetheart. why didn’t you ask me to help?”

you huffed, twisting your hand in his hold. “you always burn ‘em.”

steve chuckled. “i could’ve done somethin’ else.”

you shrugged, looking away from him toward the floured counters of cookies, cooling in small batches on racks. you had tins ready for packaging, all hand picked for who they’d go to. you wanted all your friends and family to have a batch of freshly-baked cookies for christmas.

“you were sleeping.” your voice was much softer than you wanted it to be.

“honey,” steve cooed, still holding you by the wrist. he brought his other hand under your chin and tipped it up. “how ‘bout you sit down, okay?”

“no, i have to finish these—“

“no, you have to sit down.”

“but there’s a batch in the oven and—“

“sit. down.”

you wordlessly plopped down at the kitchen island. though, the pout remained as steve opened the far right cabinet near the refrigerator and pulled out the first aid kit. it was his cabinet—designated for migraines and bad days where he couldn’t get through without a little medicated help.

the first aid kit, though, was just for you.

“your face’ll get stuck like that, angel,” steve quipped as he took your hand by the wrist again.

you huffed, watching him squirt ointment on the pad of his forefinger. “no it won’t.”

his chest rumbled and shoulders shook with a chuckle. you hissed when he rubbed the ointment into your palm.

“still so cute when you’re pouty.” he glanced up and nicked you on the chin with his knuckle.

you rolled your eyes. “whatever.”

his gentle touch turned to a stern grab when he snatched your chin again. the amused glint in his eye had hardened to a soft glare.

“and still so mouthy. you’re never too old for some discipline, baby, and m’ not too old to dole it out. y’ hear me?”

cheeks swelling with warmth, you dug your teeth into your tongue and nodded. steve loosened his hand around your jaw, stroking the back of his finger along your cheek. his glare fizzled out just as quickly as it came.

he finished rubbing the ointment into your hand and smoothed a bandage over it just in case. he pressed another kiss to the patch of covered skin.

“thank you, honey,” you murmured.

steve pet your cheek again without word. the egg timer trilled a moment later, and he slipped the pink oven mitts over his hands to grab the cookie sheet from the top oven rack.

they were placed on the stovetop, and the oven was turned off.

“what time’s janey comin’ home again?” he asked.

you looked at your watch. “half an hour. stella‘s dropping her off.”

christmas came early for steve: your daughter’s play date at the munson’s was suddenly his favorite gift. because he had you all to himself, and you were so pouty and sweet. it was one of his favorite ways to have you.

putting the oven mitts back in their drawer, steve turned around and stopped before you at the island. he took your face in his hands, gentle and sweet. you eased into them as his thumbs massaged your cheeks.

“half an hour enough discipline for you, my angel?”

you tongued away a grin, perking up in his hands. “thought i was supposed to be resting.”

steve kissed the tip of your nose. “oh, trust me, honey. you’ll be layin’ down for a while after this.”

you package christmas cookies with a sore ass and a happy steve later :)

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 470, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death

WORDS: 1336

I smiled as I felt the vibrations of the garage door opening from under my feet before closing and the thudding of my husband thudding up the stairs.

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP

“Sweetheart, I’m home!” Peter hallooed as I opened the oven door and pulled out honey oatmeal bread. “Something smells delicious!”

“I should hope so, my love!” I hummed as I set the pan down onto a elevated bread stand and slid in two fresh loaves of blueberry and strawberry bread. “I’ve been baking bread for the past three hours.”

“Why aren’t you laying down, anyway?” he asked me, taking a seat at the kitchen island and clasping his hands together.

“Can’t sit still right now,” I shrugged, swiping at the counter with a damp rag as I did a quick clean up. “Isabelle and the kids are all out back, playing in the leaves. You can hear the babies screaming with joy, by the way my love.”

“Ah,” he hummed, chuckling and patting his lap as I waddled over to take a seat. I smiled, clambering onto his lap in an intimate straddle.

“How was your appointment at the audiologist’s office today, my love?” I asked him as he wrapped his arms snuggly around me.

“Dr. Asher had me sit in a tiny room, stuffed bubble gum in my ears and had me repeat words back to him,” he grumbled. “The good doctor determined that I have a twenty three perfect hearing loss in my right ear and a thirty nine percent hearing loss in my left ear.”

I burst out into sudden giggles as his crass description of having his hearing tested.

“He also poured more bubble gum into my ears for a mold,” he told me, chuckling as he pressed his nose into the mermaid tattooed behind my left ear. “We both had an extremely enthusiastic discussion about the two types of hearing aids that he recommended to me before I settled on two over the ear hearing aids. I got to choose custom colors for my ear molds- green and blue. The actual hearing aid itself will be a dark grey.”

“That’s so cool,” I giggled as Baby Violet Marie woke up and started punching.

PUNCH KICK PUNCH KICK KICK PUNCH

“Hello, Baby Violet Marie,” he greeted her in a happy rumble.

“My love, I was thinking of leftovers for dinner tonight,” I told him. “Do you want me to fix you up a plate?”

“What I really want,” my husband mock glowered. “Is my wife, bare as the day she was born, ready and wanting my dick to impale her deep and hard.”

I couldn’t help the blush that overtook my face.

~xoXox~

I came to following my umpteenth orgasm, finding my handsome husband on his back, one hand lazily stroking his overhyper dick.

My love

“Sweetheart,” he smiled, breaking out into a loud groan as I hoisted myself up and mounted him once more, stilling as my pink petals gobbled up all thirteen inches of his magnificent length before I began to lazily ride him. “JESUS FUCK…”

“JeeJee Chris looks like me…” I teased him, a bubbling laugh escaping my mouth at the exasperated look his shot me.

“Little girl is a fucking icon,” he grumbled before flipping us so that we were both on our sides, gazing into the eyes of our soulmate as we both made ardent love to the other.

PUNCH PUNCH KICK KICK PUNCH KICK

“Good girl,” Peter praised the unborn little girl as he cradled me lovingly in his arms. “Daddy loves you. I can’t wait to hold you.”

PUNCH

A sudden squeal was ripped from beyond my lips as I found my sweet release and I fell limp. Peter followed a few minutes later, his gruff bellow and rush of warmth blossoming deep within my already occupied womb signaling his ending.

“Sweetheart, I already started up an Amazon wish list of things we can buy to make it easier for having a baby with spina bifida,” he murmured in a soft voice as he pressed gentle kisses to my forehead. “Soft bedsheets for the crib, comfortable baby clothes, a toy bunny that won’t chafe…”

You are a good man, Peter Thomas Ratajczyk.

“I got a family now,” he reminded me, wrapping his arms around me as I settled in to warm his cock for the night.

KICK PUNCH KICK PUNCH KICK PUNCH

~xoXox~

I woke up multiple time that night, in dire need of a good fucking. To my relief, Peter was always down for any kind of sex, taking me on doggy, cowgirl, missionary, and other positions that I didn’t know the name of. Each time I found orgasm, I would black out and my handsome older husband would take care of me, rubbing my aching back as he murmured sweet words of love to me.

“I hate being pregnant,” I bemoaned after waking to find my beefcake of a soulmate doing his morning workout with the babies as weights.

“And good morning to you too, sweetheart,” he grunted, lowering Baby Tommy and curling little girl into his chest, the two babies cooing sleepily as they dreamed precious baby dreams. “If it helps any, my greatest kink is seeing your womb carry my seed to full term.”

“I mean, I don’t hate the entire pregnancy,” I explained myself, getting out of bed. “I just don’t like the morning sickness, or the inability to keep from peeing my pants, or the weird ass cravings that I get, or the birthing process. Jesus, especially the birthing process.”

“Yes, well, you are still an amazing woman,” he told me, going to press kisses to the slowly rousing babies, raising little girl then Baby Tommy as they groggily woke up from their sleep. “You carry my baby safe and warm in your motherly womb as you nurture them and help them to grow before giving birth to them- you gave birth to little girl on the toilet, need I remind you.”

“Ah yes, of course I remind that,” I smiled at the memory of me in the half bath right off the laundry room, thinking that I had a massive poop to do. “I was so scared when I realized what had happened.”

“We both were so scared,” he corrected me, handing me the babies before dropping to do pushups. “When I saw you holding little girl, I just felt so guilty.”

“My love, why did you feel guilty?” I called out from the bathroom, where I was sitting on the toilet with the babies corralled in the tub.

“Because,” he explained, appearing in the doorway. “Had I pieced together what was happening to you, I would’ve rushed you to the hospital.”

“Hush now, my love,” I cooed, leaning back to allow him to wipe me clean. “It was none of our fault- it was simply meant to be.”

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@ch3rry-c01a

[dreaming-of-mossballs]

Writing Practice

Featuring a few OCs!

WC - 2k

MASTERLIST HERE

I just wanted to let everyone know, I am, in fact, alive. I’m just inactive to pursue studies, but I wanted to write a bit to ease some apprehension I have about tests coming up.

The /-/‘s are where I normally would’ve italicized.

————————————————————————

Thursday.

The third day of training camp.

And there are records just /everywhere/.

The colorful cardboard sleeves lay sprawled across the living room carpet like ants on a cracker. Unless there had been an earthquake, Ellis saw absolutely no foreseeable reason that this should have happened. She gave the room a quick scan before tearing into a run down the hallway towards the bedroom.

With the force of a soldier, she flung open the door, nearly tearing it off its hinges. She spotted a dark shape moving from just behind the open doorway of the bathroom, which was located on the left side of their shared bedroom.

Just /what/ does this lunatic think he’s doing?

She snorted to herself.

“Scout!” She called, raising a hand to cup her mouth.

Her blonde-haired roommate only intensified his rooting through the cabinets. Ellis gripped the doorframe frustratedly, shook her head, and stomped into the room. He turned his head swiftly with an expression of pure fear, although it wasn’t directed at her.

“Would you care to explain how my music collection has travelled— no, EXPLODED, halfway across the dorm?” She gestured towards the hallway, nearly knocking over a tacky lamp that the previous tenant had forgotten to take with them. Scout sprung to his feet and dusted off his thighs before making eye contact with her with the most self-righteous expression he could muster. A bottle of Windex and a plunger lay on the tile next to his feet.

“What happened?” Ellis raised an eyebrow at him. She did her best not to let any irritation, or exhaustion from hours of training, seep into her voice.

Her roommate cleared his throat. “I… kicked over your records by mistake,” he said. His tone was flat, but he had the least convincing expression ever.

She bit back a disbelieving snort.

“Sure,” she said after a slight pause. “Looking in the bathroom cabinets is going to help with fixing that problem, I guess?” Ellis added with a questioning tilt to her voice. He crossed his arms.

“It’s none of your business,” he responded flippantly, running a hand through his gelled-up hair. Ellis couldn’t help but notice his face seemed rather flushed, with something along the lines of nervousness.

She stared at his red hi-tops for a moment in a moment of mutual awkwardness before relaxing her shoulders with a sigh. “Whatever. I’m gonna go make some Kool-Aid. Do you want some?”

Scout didn’t say anything, and Ellis started off towards the kitchen before he interjected.

“Wait—.” He outstretched one of his arms to stop her. “Maybe—, maybe don’t go in there,”

The black-haired girl tilted her head. “Why not?”

He dropped his hands to his sides.

“There’s a rat,”

Memories of her roommate leading entire organizations into battle surfaced in the fraction of a second. Ones of him fighting ferociously, both alongside and against her, where he was covered head to toe in blood and soot. And now she was standing in a musty dorm room, staring at said roommate, who had the full intention of fighting a four-inch long rodent with a spray bottle and a plunger.

She mouthed a silent “oh” at him before snatching the plunger out of his hands and whisking out the door. He started to follow her, but thought better of it, turning back to the cabinet and pulling out an old bucket which had come with the suite.

A self-satisfied smirk crossed Ellis’ faced while traipsing down the hallway. She had dealt with WAY more than rats. She had dealt with MIA, for gods’ sake. Her roommate was silly for letting this get to him. Poking her head into the main living area, she scanned the room with a disinterested stare.

Her gaze swept the kitchen from the island in the middle to the oven. “Scout, I don’t see it. And if there really was a rat, I think it would be gone by now, don’t you?”

But then, Ellis realized the sink seemed just a tad bit darker than usual. She stepped closer, squinting her eyes, and spotted an outline of something dark and furry reflecting off the stainless steel walls. She heard the scrabbling of feet before brandishing the plunger like a sword and backing up against the wall.

Right on top of the mixing bowl in the sink, was a massive rat. It was almost as big as the handheld iron Scout had gotten as a gift.

“Oh—, oh that is a BIG fuckin’ rat,” she said, her eyes widening in disbelief. The clattering of silverware rang out as the creature, evidently an ugly one, clambered out of the sink and onto the counter.

“Scout. SCOUT.” She raised her voice, not tearing her eyes away from the rodent even for a second. “WHAT DO WE DO???”

“I don’t know, idiot!” His muffled voice came from down the hallway. This time, she heard bottles being thrown across the floor as he rummaged through the closet. The rat drew closer, eyeing her like the pathetic creature she was. “How strong is the suction on the vacuum?”

“The red one??”

“No, the grey one,”

“I don’t know, I haven’t used that one in weeks. Why???”

“I want to see if we can immobilize it using the suction,”

“Scout, you can’t be serious—,” The rat made a noise that made the hairs of her neck stand on end. “The puny vacuum we got with our dorm will tickle it at the MOST. Now can you get over here before this thing decides to rip my face off???”

Scout skidded on his socked feet around the corner of the hallway and into the kitchen. “Back up a bit, moron. It thinks you’re trying to corner it,”

“Oh, so you’re the rat EXPERT now, are you?” Ellis snarled, but obliging anyways. She backed up, bumping shoulders with him, and the greasy-furred creature launched itself onto the floor with a /thunk/.

“I’ll call animal control. Or pest removal? I don’t know what you guys call it. We never had rats in our mansion,” Scout tucked the bucket under his arm and fished in his pocket for his phone. Ellis took a deep breath, her heart racing so hard she thought an artery would burst.

“Okay, Mr. Silver Spoon,” she muttered. “They aren’t gonna charge us for that, right?”

He shrugged. “Dunno. They did say the building was supposed to be rat-free though,”

“I’m sure they did. They /also/ said the washing machine worked perfectly fine and it overflowed twice last week,” Ellis barked a laugh.“Go get somewhere safe while I keep an eye on this thing,”

Scout handed her the bucket and shuffled slowly to the right towards the coffee table, eyeing the rat which was skittering next to the quarter rounds connecting the floor to the walls. Ellis tucked the bucket into the crook of her elbow and wielded the plunger like a crude sort of gladiator. She was ready to move at the slightest twitch of a tail. Scout sighed loudly behind her from on top of the table. “We’re on hold,”

She turned her head towards him indignantly.

“We’re WHAT???”

He raised his hands defensively. “Don’t look at me. I don’t know why they aren’t answering. The business models in this place are so damn crude,”

/Yeah? Says the guy who had a team of butlers at his beck and call since the ripe age of five./ She rolled her eyes.

“Whatever. We’ll just have to get this thing out of here by ourselves,”

She spotted a bag of almonds lying on the coffee table Scout was standing on and snatched it with a spiteful glare. Dropping the almonds in a trail towards the balcony, she kept her eyes trained on the dark brown blob, which was now rubbing its face with its forepaws.

/This is so gross,/ she grimaced, throwing the sliding glass door to the balcony open. /I don’t even know if this little fucker likes almonds,/

Ellis backed away from the door and joined Scout on the coffee table. But after fifteen minutes, it hadn’t moved an inch.

The exasperated girl buried her face in her hands, earning a snort from Scout.

“It’s never gonna leave,” she muttered. “I guess it lives with us now. We only need the kitchen to survive, right?”

“I am not surrendering this dorm to yet /another/ animal,” Her stone-faced roommate rolled his eyes, and it took her a moment to realize what he had implied. “Maybe you just aren’t doing it right. It says here, rats like bananas a fair amount. Maybe more than almonds,”

She withdrew her hands, hissing at him. “I’m not wasting a fucking /banana/ on this rat. Do you know how expensive bananas are nowadays?” Ellis was becoming hysterical. “You know what? Why don’t we make a charcuterie board for the damn thing, while we’re at it. You would know all about how to cater to the refined tastes of Sir Ratticus the Third, right? Right???”

“The rat has better taste than /you/, I’ll say—,” he grumbled.

“That’s it. I’ve had it with you,” she threw her hands up in the air, the bucket rattling as it slid down her forearm.

“In fact,” she said bitingly. “Why don’t you take care of it? I tried, so now it’s your turn,”

Ellis had never witnessed the color drain out of a boy’s face so fast.

“Ah—,” he looked taken aback. “I’d rather not,”

“Nuh-uh,” she narrowed her eyes at him. “You don’t get to criticize my way of doing things when the most you’ve done is ATTEMPT to call animal control,”

“I had it under control before /you/ got here,” he leaned forward with a glare.

“Sure. Okay, go get it then,” Ellis raised her hands swiftly as if to push him off, and Scout shrieked.

And she means, /shrieked/.

It reverberated off the dingy walls of the living space and into the neighborhood outside. Ellis could hear the cawing of crows as they startled from their perches.

It was honestly impressive.

Scout clutched his arms close to his body with a terrified expression, his eyes were shut tightly, and he was shivering. Ellis looked onward, wide eyed. After thirty seconds, Scout blinked his eyes open again to see her staring at him in confusion.

“I— uh. I wasn’t actually going to push you, you know,” she said curtly.

“Y-yeah. I knew that,” Scout replied dismissively. His cheeks turned a deep shade of pink and he glanced away. He had impressively long eyelashes, Ellis realized.

“Well. That rules out that option, I guess,” She shook her hands out and sighed. She paused.

“Why don’t you just watch me and tell me where it’s going?”

He bit his top lip. “Yeah. Ok,”

And with that, Ellis shook the bucket off her arm and stepped off the table with it nestled closely to her chest. The rat had moved a little bit closer to the doorway, now gnawing on one of the almonds. Ellis now realized she had placed /way/ too many almonds on the floor. It would have likely gotten too full to follow the full trail.

She raised the bucket higher, her gaze laser-focused on the creature. When it bent down to pick up another almond, that’s when she struck, launching herself at it like a cheetah in the underbrush. The red plastic bucket clattered over the mangy rat, which started clawing at the walls of its prison immediately.

“Scout! Hand me those textbooks, will you?”

Her roommate grabbed the textbooks on “Modern Magic Study” and a number of other combat books, and tossed them to her, fear still illuminating his eyes. She slammed them down on the bucket and waited for the struggling to cease to a few scrabbles a minute.

“Now, hand me your phone,” she ordered him. Ellis dialed animal control once again and walked over to the kitchen table as though nothing had happened.

She turned to Scout.

“You feel like making dinner? This might be a while,”

————————————————————————

2023 - Dreaming-of-Mossballs - Do not repost/translate without my permission - NO AI

[kompacplus]

How To Make A Modern Kitchen Work For You

Even if you don't such as cooking and cleansing, a contemporary kitchen area will certainly make these work a lot extra tolerable. And also if you already like cooking, then a modern-day cooking area will certainly make you probably never ever wish to leave your kitchen area!

Every cooking area is comprised of the same fundamentals, yet what sets apart a modern kitchen area is its layout We aid you modernise your cooking area and also make it collaborate with a couple of easy pointers.

Know the fundamentals of design.

Solid top Malaysia

You don't need to be a developer to know the basics of kitchen style. As an example, every contemporary kitchen will certainly have a variety, a sink and also a fridge. Now, what is essential is not their brand name however their placement or positioning. They need to be put not as well far from each other. They are known as the work triangular. A contemporary kitchen area will certainly be small, as well as these three kitchen fundamentals will be put as if they will be convenient and efficient for those food preparation in the kitchen area. Also if there is greater than a single person working in the cooking area, they won't run into one another. The placement of these items is crucial to make this happen. The triangle ought to likewise adjoin with the cooking area island or various other predicting cabinets/countertops. There specify measurements to be complied with to make the positing of all these items as convenient as feasible. A cooking area developer will have the ability to direct you with the ideal information after analysing your kitchen area.

kitchen top Malaysia

Make amusing location separate

People like to entertain their guests in a modern-day cooking area as it is extremely hassle-free. Nevertheless, if the kitchen area is not planned appropriately, the visitors won't feel very comfortable. A contemporary kitchen area needs to have the amusing locations independent of the work triangle. So that guests can consume appetizers, take pleasure in a drink, and also at the same time they won't obstruct of those who are food preparation. The amusing area needs to have a direct sight of the cooking area's work triangle too.

Consider the geometry of device doors

Opening as well as closing of devices like refrigerators and also stoves ought to not interrupt cooking. So deal with the backwards and also forward motions of the fridge doors, the oven and also the dishwasher.

The attach between the sink, trash and dishwash

The sink, trash and dishwasher ought to not be much apart. This ought to be taken care of while creating the kitchen area. After a dish, we first clean home plates, then wash them as well as place recipes right into the dishwasher. The sink, trash as well as dish washer must be positioned because order. The garbage must be closest to the dining room table.

Maintain fridge near the kitchen

The fridge and also pantry should be near the entrance of the kitchen or near a kitchen counter. This will certainly make our job of dumping grocery store after grocery store shopping simpler. We have a tendency to neglect such tiny information while developing the cooking area. Yet it is these tiny issues that make a kitchen area job much more easily.

[hm-cabinet-fabuwood]

What are the most effective Fabuwood kitchen area style ideas for little areas?

Tiny kitchen areas can be a difficulty to design, but with some thoughtful planning and clever solutions, you can produce a practical and also elegant room that works for you. When it comes to Fabuwood kitchen designs for small rooms, there are a number of vital ideas to bear in mind.

1. Use Light Colors

Among the best means to make a tiny kitchen area really feel larger is to make use of light shades on the walls, cabinets, and backsplash. Lighter shades mirror much more light as well as assist to produce the impression of even more area. Fabuwood offers a variety of light-colored cupboards, consisting of white, lotion, and also light gray, that can help to open up a little cooking area.

2. Select a Minimalist Layout

A minimal design is ideal for small cooking areas because it concentrates on tidy lines and also easy forms, which can make the room feel less chaotic. Choose cabinets with basic, flat-panel doors and also think about removing upper cupboards completely for open shelving. This can help to produce an extra airy as well as open feeling in the kitchen area.

3. Include Smart Storage Space Solutions

Storage is constantly an obstacle in small kitchen areas, so it is very important to make the most of every inch of area. Fabuwood uses a series of clever storage solutions, such as pull-out shelves, corner cupboards, and also deep cabinets, that can assist to optimize your storage area. Think about making use of a tall cupboard closet to store dry goods and small appliances, or a pull-out seasoning shelf to maintain your spices organized as well as accessible.

4. Use Lighting to Produce Atmosphere

Lights can make a large distinction in a tiny kitchen. In addition to overhead illumination, consider including under-cabinet illumination, necklace lights, or a light fixture to develop a comfy ambience. Fabuwood provides a variety of lighting choices, consisting of LED strip lights that can be mounted under closets to provide additional illumination.

5. Utilize Vertical Room

When you have actually restricted flooring space, it is necessary to take advantage of your vertical room. Think about mounting cupboards that copulate up to the ceiling, or utilizing open shelving to present ornamental things as well as maintain frequently utilized items within very easy reach. Fabuwood uses a series of cabinet dimensions and also setups that can be personalized to fit your area.

6. Choose Multi-Functional Home Appliances

In a little kitchen area, it is essential to select devices that are both practical as well as space-saving. Look for multi-functional home appliances, such as a combination microwave-convection oven, or a cooktop with built-in downdraft ventilation. Fabuwood uses a range of appliance choices that can assist to save room as well as make your kitchen extra effective.

7. Add a Cooking Area Island

If you have a little added area, consider including a kitchen island to your small cooking area. A kitchen island can give additional storage and counter space, along with a location for informal dining. Fabuwood supplies a variety of island alternatives, consisting of ones with built-in sinks as well as cooktops, that can be tailored to fit your area and also style preferences.

Finally, designing a tiny kitchen can be tough, but with the best design suggestions and solutions, you can develop an useful as well as fashionable space that works for you. Including light shades, a minimal style, smart storage options, as well as upright space, together with the right illumination as well as devices, can aid to make your little kitchen really feel larger and also much more efficient. Fabuwood  kitchen degeins supplies a variety of cupboards, appliances, as well as devices that can be personalized to fit your design requires, making it simple to produce the perfect kitchen area for your small area.

. If you want to check out our cabinet collection then visit our website now!

Website  : https://hmcabinetonline.com/

[regencyhomeremodeling1]

Highland Park Kitchen Remodel

.av-horizontal-gallery.av-lchia48a-522a81f7419bfca50f051ecdf5bed3e0 .av-horizontal-gallery-inner{ padding-bottom:15%; }

PreviousNext

12345678910111213141516171819202122

#top .av-special-heading.av-lchiaft1-92e42c30a07cc9e07d227d2fe9c7b70b{ padding-bottom:0; color:#444444; font-size:32px; } body .av-special-heading.av-lchiaft1-92e42c30a07cc9e07d227d2fe9c7b70b .av-special-heading-tag .heading-char{ font-size:25px; } #top #wrap_all .av-special-heading.av-lchiaft1-92e42c30a07cc9e07d227d2fe9c7b70b .av-special-heading-tag{ font-size:32px; } .av-special-heading.av-lchiaft1-92e42c30a07cc9e07d227d2fe9c7b70b .special-heading-inner-border{ border-color:#444444; } .av-special-heading.av-lchiaft1-92e42c30a07cc9e07d227d2fe9c7b70b .av-subheading{ font-size:15px; } @media only screen and (min-width: 480px) and (max-width: 767px){ #top #wrap_all .av-special-heading.av-lchiaft1-92e42c30a07cc9e07d227d2fe9c7b70b .av-special-heading-tag{ font-size:0.8em; } } @media only screen and (max-width: 479px){ #top #wrap_all .av-special-heading.av-lchiaft1-92e42c30a07cc9e07d227d2fe9c7b70b .av-special-heading-tag{ font-size:0.8em; } }

Kitchen Remodel Highland Park, IL

January 10, 2023 /in Highland Park, IL , Kitchen Remodels , /by Bruce Pinsler

#top .hr.hr-invisible.av-41zmepu-1bedee23ef3e8df4c888c857ed184c32{ margin-top:-10px; height:1px; }

.flex_column.av-3b9dmte-a831fe7d0a2ab3172bdc44c4e894747a{ -webkit-border-radius:0px 0px 0px 0px; -moz-border-radius:0px 0px 0px 0px; border-radius:0px 0px 0px 0px; padding:0px 0px 0px 0px; }

.flex_column.av-2lvnopu-1ea49ee5ab312334fdd775962ff92830{ -webkit-border-radius:0px 0px 0px 0px; -moz-border-radius:0px 0px 0px 0px; border-radius:0px 0px 0px 0px; padding:0px 0px 0px 25px; }

Project Overview

The Subject Property

Highland Park Kitchen Remodel

Kitchen design that was once cutting-edge can become dated when the very style that was once fashionable now simply dates a kitchen by that very style. That was the case in this Highland Park home, with a kitchen that was once top-of-the-line that has outlived its time. That’s where Regency Home Remodeling stepped in, to introduce the newest yet timeless design that the owners desired.

First, by eliminating the old overhead decorative architectural shelves, the room was opened up for Regency’s own soaring-to-the-ceiling flat panel Roble Stella cabinets, aided by custom shelving to accentuate the new style. Then, Daltile’s OQ32 Niagara Quartz countertops were set and accented with a Modern Hearth 3” x 12” Mantelpiece backsplash tile. The Franke FCUX11030 Undermount stainless sink from Studio 41 is complemented by the brushed stainless sink faucet and cabinet hardware. The appliances were updated with ABT’s finest, including a KitchenAid dishwasher and Sharp 24” Smart microwave drawer oven in the newly designed island. The stove was replaced with a Thermador 36” gas range top, capped by a Best WTT32 Series exhaust hood, while a KitchenAid 30” double wall oven provides space, practicality and convenience.

The new kitchen sparkles with a just-now feeling that will endure for years, thanks to the clever designers, professional installers, and special supplier relationships of Regency Home Remodeling. Regency can do the same for you—all you have to do is ask. And all work will be done within the promised time and budget. And that’s the Regency promise!

Need a Kitchen Remodel? If you want to remodel your kitchen in Highland Park, and want to know how these homeowners saved on their finishes with our Factory-direct program, then contact us at 1 (773) 930-4465.

Map

#top .av-special-heading.av-2a9eo8y-438d6f508b380d186f9d799449fd1388{ padding-bottom:10px; font-size:32px; } body .av-special-heading.av-2a9eo8y-438d6f508b380d186f9d799449fd1388 .av-special-heading-tag .heading-char{ font-size:25px; } #top #wrap_all .av-special-heading.av-2a9eo8y-438d6f508b380d186f9d799449fd1388 .av-special-heading-tag{ font-size:32px; } .av-special-heading.av-2a9eo8y-438d6f508b380d186f9d799449fd1388 .av-subheading{ font-size:18px; } @media only screen and (min-width: 480px) and (max-width: 767px){ #top #wrap_all .av-special-heading.av-2a9eo8y-438d6f508b380d186f9d799449fd1388 .av-special-heading-tag{ font-size:0.8em; } } @media only screen and (max-width: 479px){ #top #wrap_all .av-special-heading.av-2a9eo8y-438d6f508b380d186f9d799449fd1388 .av-special-heading-tag{ font-size:0.8em; } }

More Kitchen Remodels

#top .hr.hr-invisible.av-1tmtgn6-09b5f2f6d1d874a426461400cc65cb1f{ height:50px; }

Highland Park Kitchen Remodel

January 10, 2023/by Bruce Pinsler

Kitchen Remodel Norridge

January 4, 2023/by Bruce Pinsler

Kitchen and Fireplace Remodel Green Oaks

December 7, 2022/by Bruce Pinsler

Kitchen Remodel Arlington Heights

December 6, 2022/by Bruce Pinsler

Kitchen Remodel La Grange Park

October 26, 2022/by Bruce Pinsler

Kitchen Remodel Evanston

October 4, 2022/by Bruce Pinsler

Kitchen Remodel Mount Prospect

September 23, 2022/by Bruce Pinsler

Lake Zurich Kitchen Remodel

September 22, 2022/by Bruce Pinsler

Kitchen Remodel Barrington

September 14, 2022/by Bruce Pinsler

Kitchen Remodel River North

August 26, 2022/by Bruce Pinsler

Hoffman Estates Kitchen Remodel

April 26, 2022/by Bruce Pinsler

Kitchen Remodel Evanston

March 10, 2022/by Bruce Pinsler

Load more

Share this entry

Share on Facebook

Share on Twitter

Share on WhatsApp

Share on Pinterest

Share on LinkedIn

Share by Mail

The post Highland Park Kitchen Remodel appeared first on Regency Home Remodeling.

from Regency Home Remodeling https://regencyhomeremodeling.com/kitchens/1151-hilary-ln-highland-park-il-60035/

[shadowjax]

The Dragon’s Blade

Thin Walls

A03

Natasha Romanoff x g!reader/OC

Oneshot

“Awe, is my poor baby injured~”

“Hisss Fuck… that hurts Talia…”

“Am I interrupting?”

Warning: injuries, blood, nothing too serious

*Shares are appreciated*

1.1k Words

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

“Hey you’re back, I saved you some leftovers.” Wanda’s voice echoed from the kitchen as you entered the room. Her eyes landing on your hand pressed against your right side as if in pain. She took a bowl out of the fridge and popped it in the oven.

Not a moment after sitting down on one of the island chairs, Vision entered the room through the wall. You placed your mask on the table and eyed the bowl of demikát Wanda placed in front of you.

“You’ve been gone for quite some time, everything alright?” Vision sat beside you.

It’s been a while since you had to remove a bullet from yourself, luckily most of the guards were taken care of so you could remove it. The pain went unbearable to affect the mission and with your mind on autopilot it didn’t become an issue until you reached the jet. You knew Dr.Lee was out of the country leaving Dr.Cho at the facility, you had nothing against her. It’s just that you weren't entirely comfortable around Cho yet. So once you got back to your room you’d have time to care for it yourself. But your stomach had other plans.

“Just tired. I didn’t get much sleep on the jet.” You quickly ate the food and scurried out of the kitchen, your shirt feeling damp.

“You should see a doctor about that.” Wanda reached out before you left the room and you waved her off.

Once you made it to your room you grabbed a first aid kit and removed your accessories only to be left in your pants and undershirt. There was a spot near your lower right side that was a pool of stained fabric. You lifted the shirt to find your bandaging job needed work, blood soaked through but luckily dried. Removing your mask to make it easier to see the wound but the angle was tricky.

“Hey.” A few knocks followed and the door opened before you could tell Natalia to enter. “Oh shit, it’s worse than Wanda mentioned.”

“I’m fine.” You pulled the shirt down, keeping a hand over the wound as you winded in pain.

“Ok first, don’t lie to me. Second, you should have Cho take a look at this.” She knelt down on the ground in front of you, keeping your gaze to the floor and your eyes heavy.

You weren't comfortable seeing your own scars let alone anyone else looking at them. You felt dirty for having so many physical scars, most being a painful reminder of your mistakes. Pity stares were the worst especially when mixed with sadness, it felt embarrassing whenever they were directed towards you. The gentle approach and attitude shift as if they were the cause of something traumatic and heart wrenching. You were a shadow so having attention drawn towards you wasn’t comfortable at first but you’ve slowly learned to live with it.

“At least tell me you’ll look at it yourself and not let this go untreated.” You know I can’t stand feeling helpless, she didn’t need to speak for you to read that look in her eyes. You broke a promise to be more careful and to come to communicate problems, not shut her out. You pushed past your insecurities, breaking the barrier keeping you silent.

“It’s… in a tough spot. Hard to see without a mirror.” Having her stitch up your wound would save you the trip down memory lane. Still unable to look at your one reflection, you lifted your shirt up for her to begin examining.

“You got nicked pretty good.” She opened the first aid kit and began to work, instructing you to lie down while she brought the lights up. Luckily the bullet hole was low enough you were able to keep your shirt on to cover the rest of your scars. “I’m guessing this was a rush job?”

“Yeah. Hissss.” You winced when she removed some of the casing embedded in your skin, swearing a part was stuck in your rib.

“I’m sorry sweetie but you’ll have to fight through the pain for a bit longer.”

The next pieces that were removed hurt more than the last. “Talia!” Your voice rose an octave while you tried to hold your breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Awe, is my poor baby injured~ Don’t worry baby, it’ll all be over soon.” She said in a hum, hand brushing your cheek for a moment before she went back to work.

“Gah nnnnghhh. I told you to never use that baby voice with me.” Your nails dig into the palms of your hands, almost enough to draw blood.

“You’re so close, and you know you love the voice.” The last shard you swore was stuck in your rib.

“GAHHH!” Your breath was heavy from holding it in and finally you felt alright enough to take full breaths. The stitches didn’t hurt as much and not long after you were fully patched up. She gave a quick kiss over the bandaging before you pulled your shirt down again.

“See, all better~” she playfully patted your patched up wound which sent a shockwave of miniature pain through your ribs.

“Hisss… Fuck, that hurts Talia. You’re doing it on purpose.” You clenched your jaw trying to not move. “I’m sorry, next time I’ll come find you. If Lee is unavailable. You’re right I can’t keep… neglecting myself.”

“Now where did you learn a word like that?” Her brows danced mischievously, a twinkle in her eye. “You may be a super soldier but you’ve still got limits. Now get some rest, I’ll stay here till you fall asleep.” You scooted closer towards the wall to give her space to lay down after dimming the lights. She angled herself above you, laying against her propped arm. She gently ran her fingers through your hair while you stared off into her eyes, relaxation flowing through your veins. It didn’t take long for you to finally fall asleep.

A gentle knock pulled at her attention, gently moving to not disturb you. “WHAT?” Her tone was flat towards the person who ruined a perfectly calm moment.

“Is everything alright?” Clint hesitantly asked from the other side of the door. “I heard screaming….”

“Yes yes everything is alright, I had to play doctor.” She gestured to her blood stained shirt.

“Ok I don’t need to know the details of whatever role playing you’re up to but keep it down, the walls are thin and this floor specifically echoes.”

“Goodnight Clint.” She shut the door in his face quickly, a flush creeping up her cheeks.

“What did he want?” You gestured in the air when she turned around.

“Just checking up, go back to sleep.” Nat whispered, discarding her stained shirt then laying back down beside you.

[writingoneshots]

Maybe an odd prompt, but how about: Law having a crush on a Skypeian reader and thinks their wings are cute (in a Bepo kinda way?). The wings get injured in a fight so he's doing first aid while trying not to fawn over the fluffy feathers. Maybe the wings are sensitive so reader is blushy?

Hey there :) ! Now this is something I have never read before. Interesting request.. I couldn't resist to write it.

- Law x Skypiean reader - 1,526 words - cutie pie, little Bepo moment, SFW

After finally defeating Doflamingo, Law was exhausted. He has waited for this moment for years and now the time has arrived. Law was free. All these years, he had to readjust his plans, find new allies and focus on not killing Luffy for getting him into way too many troubles. Now that he was finally free, there was one thing he longed for. Someone's presence. Yours. It has been almost 6 months since the last time he had seen you and it was under hard circumstances. Both of you have been captured on a deserted island and Law had helped you to escape and bring you back to your island in the sky. During that time, Law fell. In love. Harder than he could have ever imagined. Every time he needed someone, every time he felt empty or depressed, he needed you. To see you, feel you and hear you. But there has never been an option to visit you since beating Doflamingo was his number one priority. Now that he finally had some time to relax with his crew, he decided to turn back around and check on you. There was nothing and no one, who could stop him right now. Not even Bepo, who tried very hard to find out where Law wanted to go and why he wanted to leave on his own.

Bepo was always the curious and very nosy type of being, but whenever Law wouldn't give him a single detail, Bepo knew that something huge was bothering Law. "Please tell me!" "No." "Please, captain!" "I said no." "Please?", Bepo looked at him with his shiny big eyes and Law took a deep breath before he turned away. "No." Bepo broke down into tears, being as overly dramatic as always. "Please, captain! I won't tell anyone! I promise!" "Yeah, like you promised to not tell anyone about the incident last week in the kitchen.", Law sighed annoyed and went to his desk. "Come on, captain.. That was funny. I literally left you alone in the kitchen, while you were making your cereal and I come back 3 minutes later and you set the oven on fire." Bepo tried his best not to laugh again. "Bepo?" "Yes, captain?" "Shut up.", Law looked at him angrily now and wrote something down into his secret black book. Bepo sighed a bit sad and sat down on the couch. His ears leaned down softly and Law had to look up at them. He always felt bad seeing Bepo like this and after a long and deep sigh, Law gave in. "I am going to visit (Y/N).", Law explained grumpily and stood up. "Awwwwww! You trust me, captain!", Bepo's eyes sparkled again and he began clapping his paws in excitement. "Law and (Y/N) - (Y/N) and Law! Law and (Y/N) - (Y/N) and La-" Law didn't want to hear the end of the song, which is why he left as fast as he could. Two days later, Law finally arrived in Skypiea. The rest of the crew spend their free time on an island nearby, while Law was in the sky looking for you. When he arrived at the city, where you would usually work, he felt his heart ache at the sight of the ruins, which were left after a big war. No house was fully standing and barely anyone was on the streets. What was once a lively city, seemed to look like a ghost town now. A few people were looking around, trying to find someone or something. His thoughts were all over the place, scared and shocked about the current situation. "Law? Trafalgar Law?", someone behind him asked. Law turned around and looked at a familiar face. "Hello. You are (Y/N)'s friend, right?" A woman with dark green locks nodded and smiled a bit sad. In this town, every human being had wings on their backs and specific strength, which were non-comparable to those human beings from Law's surface. "You're probably looking for her. She is in the medical building.", the woman explained and pointed into a direction. "It's in the city to the left. We are all recovering there." "What happened here?", Law didn't move away as he tried to understand what could have happened here without the news reporting anything. "Enel, one of the Gods, came back and he was angrier now than before. He expected us to support him for some reason and nobody wanted to join him to look for someone wearing a straw hat.. So he paid us back." It was hard for her to speak but she forced herself to do so and Law appreciated her effort. "Thank you.", was all Law could have said and after respectfully excusing himself with a soft nod, Law went to the city nearby. The medical building was filled with your kind and the doctors had a lot of patients to take care of. It seemed as if it had happened recently, which made Law feel a little guilty. If I would have been here, she wouldn't be laying in this building. "Hey! She needs help as well! Look at her leg and her wing, doc!!", someone screamed from a room right in front of Law. With every step into the direction of your room, Law was able to see more of you. Your body looked very exhausted from a hard fight and you still had dust and blood all over your body. Seeing you like this made Laws heart feel suddenly really heavy in his chest and he was not prepared for this. He could have never imagined seeing you like that. "Law?", you whispered his name and frowned a bit after spotting his initial hat lurking in the entrance. You felt relieved to see him but you couldn't understand why he was here. "(Y/N)! I heard what happened just now.", Law pushed a doctor aside, who tried to

walk past your bed and was furious about how they have left you laying there like this. The blood was already dry on your clothes and stuck to your skin, which could only mean that you've been here since more than a day. "Are you a doctor?", the guy, who was asking for help earlier, looked at Law with concerned eyes. Law just gave him a short look and nodded. He immediately grabbed some supplies and began cleaning and taking care of your wounds. "How long have you been here?" "Two days.", you sighed a bit and couldn't stop looking at him, still not believing that he was there. "Two days.. and your wounds were still untreated.", Law took a deep breath and promised himself to lecture a few doctors afterward. But you were more important now. "Thank you, Law.", you gave him a soft smile, when he looked up to you. A slight blush appeared on his cheeks but he just looked away again, not saying a word. When he made a gesture to tend to your wings, you put your hand onto his and shook your head. "That's not necessary. I am alright." "I have to clean the wound, (Y/N). You can trust me. I won't hurt you.", he reassured you and you had no idea how to respond to that. Now that he helped you to sit up, so he could have a better look at it, Law began to wash away the blood carefully. Your heart began to beat really fast and you pressed your lips together to avoid making him hear how intense this felt. Every touch, as soft as he tried to make it feel, tickled your nerves in a way you've never felt before. Law felt that something was off and he feared that the side of the wing might have been damaged. "(Y/N) does it hurt that bad?", he walked around the bed to have a better look at you and frowned when he saw your red cheeks. "N-no.. it doesn't.. hurt.", you looked down at your hands, feeling way too flustered. The man, who was watching you two, slapped Laws arm slightly. "You pervert!! Touching her like that in public! I don't believe that you're a real doctor!" Law looked at him confused and shook his head, not understanding what was going on. When he turned back to you again, seeing how even your ears turned red and how your breath has fastened a little, he finally understood. "Oh.. (Y/N), I am sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. I just wanted to help.", he swallowed hard, his chest burning from the struggle of trying to help you but not knowing your species well enough. "Don't worry, Law. I trust you. Just.. maybe.. you should leave the wings out.", you whispered a little embarrassed. Law thought about it and stepped closer to you, pulling your chin up carefully with his thumb and index finger. "Or I could clean them in a private room..", he smiled a bit cheeky and motioned his room ability with his other hand. You looked into his eyes, seeing some sort of interest and excitement awaken in them. "Shambles!"