#Deep Freezer for Home Kitchen & Bar

[affiliatemarketingreviewsblog]

Top 7 The Best Deep Freeze

The term "Deep Freeze" conjures images of bone-chilling temperatures, frost-covered landscapes, and icy wonderlands. Deep freeze refers to the most extreme cold environments on Earth, where temperatures plummet far below freezing, often reaching levels that can challenge life's survival. These frigid zones exist in various parts of the world, from polar regions to high-altitude mountain ranges, and they play a crucial role in shaping the planet's climate and supporting unique ecosystems.

[a-ikuoliver]

WHAT UP MERCURY

For that birthday bash, could I get that blowjob shot with Kirishima please and thank you! 💛~

eeeee thank you! i'm so sorry i was so long with this but i hope you enjoy nonetheless <3 birthday bash intro + rules + menu | event masterlist

eijiro was punctual, prompt, showing up at least 15 minutes early for his shifts (only 8 minutes on his worst day), the exact opposite of you. living closer to the restaurant than him, you still somehow managed to spawn countless grey hairs out of his skull, and at least a handful of heart convulsions every time you'd show up seconds before your shift would begin. knowing your routine, when you offhandedly mentioned needing a ride tonight, eijiro jumped at the opportunity; a little to make sure you'd be at the event on time, but mostly to have this time alone with you, to admire you while he had the chance before you'd both be worked off your feet for the night.

event nights, despite the tips, were his least favourite nights; both of you ending up too busy to flirt by the bar, to run into each other in the freezer, or for his hands to brush by your hips when you both met in front of the kitchen. instead, eijiro wouldn't even have time to admire you from across the bar.

→ KIWI 8:37PM i'm downstairs x

← THE PERSONALITY HIRE 8:37PM fuck i'm not ready yet, come up?

→ KIWI 8:38PM still in 6?

← THE PERSONALITY HIRE 8:39PM 6, door's unlocked x

with a dazzling smile, eijiro slides his phone back into his pocket, glancing up to the third floor, to the light shining from behind sheer curtains, your silhouette moving frantically behind it, the shape distorting when a gentle breeze blew through the half-open window. he wants to stand here longer, to watch you at your most you, when you don't know he's admiring you. you're so alluring when you flirt back, getting his pants tight and palms sweaty with perfectly placed lingering touches on his shoulders, but when he can stare at you without you watching, when you smile without a concern in the world, it drives him insane. tearing himself away, he finally makes his way toward the entrance of your building, climbing the stairs two at a time, pausing in front of the metallic 6, the numeral gleaming under the hallway lights.

it's unlocked, he knows, he knows he's welcome to come in, and still he knocks, a gentle tap of his knuckles just beneath the number screwed into the wood, crossing the threshold without permission almost like crossing an unspoken line in the sand, separating workplace crush from something else entirely.

"coming!"

his heart skips a beat hearing your voice, like he hadn't worked by your side for nearly three years. after only a second, the door swings open. you're barefoot, clad in a low-cut shirt, a sliver of deep red lace peeking out from the neckline — your signature event outfit, the implication of what more was beneath raking you in tips. another reason for eijiro to hate events, the way your cleavage sat threatening to ruin his respectful guy reputation with you, threatening to ruin the friendship he'd built with you.

"kiwi! i only need 5 more minutes," leaving the door open, you rush back inside, frantically rushing around the apartment, tossing random objects beside your tote bag; a lipgloss, a perfume, sanitiser, water bottle, and a pair of shoes flying out of your bedroom door.

stepping through the doorway of your home, he glances towards your open bedroom door, spotting a mess of pillows, sheets, blankets and clothes strewn atop of the unmade bed, a sleep shirt and lacy pair of panties at the foot of your bed. carmine eyes linger on your underwear a little too long, too long for him to pretend his blood wasn't rushing in his ears.

"time for a quick drink?" your voice makes him jump, deep garnet eyes jolting back toward you in the kitchen, his blood rushing further south when you bend down, his gaze trained directly down the front of your shirt when you reach for two tall, thin shot glasses.

you're already pulling out the liquor, an eyebrow quirked and eyes glimmering when his eyes meet yours once more, his gentleman reputation already beginning to crumble after only minutes.

why did he agree to this. to being alone in your apartment with you. he's so used to being shoulder to shoulder behind the bar, too busy to do anymore than flirt with a wink across the restaurant, so close, but the possibilities so far away. now, here, with you, his knees weakening almost as much as his resolve with every second ticking by, and he was still across the room from you, only feet from your bedroom. from the discarded lace.

"might make the shift bearable." you giggle, unscrewing the cap to the amaretto when eijiro responds with a nod, certain his voice wouldn't be anything above a hungry growl, giving away all he tried to hide. pouring the amaretto and irish cream into the tall glasses, turning around to fish your whipped cream from your fridge as eijiro settles onto a stool across the counter from you, again taking his chance to admire you, your thighs and ass too tempting under the low light.

clearing his throat, he adjusts himself on the stool, gently tugging on his collar when you squirt the finishing touch on top of the glasses, swiping through the sweet cream with your ring finger, sucking it clean between your perfect lips. you have to be doing this on purpose, his cock pulsing against his briefs when your tongue pokes out to catch a stray remnant at the corner of your mouth.

while his eyes are busy taking in the shape of your lips, the curve of your throat as his deep red gaze strays further south, until he's nearly staring directly down your shirt. while eijiro's busy drinking in the sight of your cleavage, he doesn't expect to see is you, leaning over the bench to slide him the shot, staying with your chest parallel to the granite as he grips the glass in a large hand.

watching you with wide eyes, eijiro tracks your every move; your fingertips tapping against the counter, the way your tongue flicks out from your lips to lick the whipped cream from the top of the shot glass, tracing along the rim with the tip of your tongue, sucking it from the top of the drink before bobbing your head back down again, this time taking the shot glass between your lips, pursing your lips around it before you stand back up, tilting your head back, swallowing down the liquor with your hands still planted firmly on the counter, eijiro's eyes nearly turning black watching you.

a sliver of cherry iris remains unswallowed by his pupils, eyes glistening as his blood pumps, all logical thought fading from his mind, replaced by the image of you ahead of him, swallowing down the shot, the sliver of your bra poking out, the panties he can still see out of the corner of his eye, the glint in your eye.

"how pissed do you think bakugou would be if we called in sick right now?"

[storiesofsvu]

Midnight Baking

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, briefest mention ever of some unnamed stressful situation. (R doesn't want to talk about it because I was simply too lazy to come up with what was stressing them out, so...here we go. lol)

Emily stirred, her body twitching in her sleep as her nose scrunched up and she subconsciously went to pull the blankets tighter around her body. A cool breeze floated through the room from the open window, the summer night air far nicer than the scorching heat of the day. With it came a whiff of your shampoo, wafting off your pillow straight into Emily’s senses making her want to be impossibly close to you, the heat finally having vanished from the room. Rolling over she let out a groan as her body stretched itself out, pulling her slightly out of her deep sleep until her arm hit what was supposed to be your waist and her senses came to life when all she found was cold sheets.

She didn’t want to open her eyes, didn’t even want to fully wake up, but she wanted you and you certainly weren’t in the bed. She peeked one eye open, squinting around the bedroom to find it dark but the bedroom door cracked open and she wondered if you were in the bathroom. Her hand soothed up and down your side of the bed and not an inch of it held any of your remaining body heat, wherever you’d disappeared to it had not been recent. With a reluctant groan she pushed herself up to sitting, stretching out her body as she yawned, grabbing a hoodie from the floor and sliding her slippers on while she began her adventure through the house.

Upstairs was quiet, dark and empty aside from the soft snores coming from Sergio who Emily gave a little scratch on the head to as she made her way passed him. A light was left on downstairs but that was nothing new, it was instinct to always leave a couple on for the nights Emily was coming home from a case, never sure what hour she’d finally make it back to you. Wandering down the stairs she found the living room empty but a book upturned on the coffee table and a blanket crumpled up on the couch. Her lips twitched up into a grin at the thought of you burrito’d up with your favourite stories as she crossed toward the couch. She flipped the book over, sliding a bookmark into the open page before setting it back on the pile on the table, next neatly folding the blanket and laying it over the back of the couch.

A few steps later and she finally found the main source of light and you, both in the kitchen and she stopped in the doorway, leaning against the frame to watch for a minute. You were lost in your element and clearly had been at it a while, there was a smudge of flour on your cheekbone, three racks of cookies already cooling and incredibly sweet smells lingering in the air. She noticed the window was wide open and upon lingering for a minute realized it must have been to combat the heat from the oven. Her eyes trailed back to you, a frown taking over her features as she began to examine yours, you were more than focused, it was almost intense, your brow furrowed, eyes narrowed just the slightest as you stirred up ingredients. She could tell you were clenching your jaw; your shoulders tense and she just knew you were holding stress in your lower back, especially with the way you kept shifting from one foot to the other to try an alleviate any hip pain.

“Didn’t realize I was living with Willy Wonka.” She teased and you jumped slightly, pulling out an ear bud.

“You’re supposed to be asleep.” You pouted, taking out the other ear bud to safely drop in a ramekin before wiping off your hands as you turned to her.

“So are you.” She replied with a soft laugh, moving through the room to wipe the flour off your face, “what are you doing?”

“Well,” you let out a breath before rattling things off, “I’ve got sugar cookies and chocolate chip cookies done, there’s lemon bars in the freezer setting, I just put in a batch of peanut butter cookies and am working on cupcakes. But I don’t even know if any of it will turn out, I’ve been doing it all by hand so I didn’t have to use the mixer and worry about waking you up.”

“Jeeze, how long have you been down here?”

“More than a few hours…” you replied sheepishly, your body nearly sinking around itself, “I couldn’t sleep, didn’t want to disturb you so I came down here to read. But my brain just wouldn’t shut up, I needed something to make me think and I’ve always kinda been a stress baker so…” You vaguely gestured to the state of the kitchen.

“Is this about what you told me over dinner?” Emily asked, stepping toward you and squeezing softly at your elbow.

“Yeah.” You sighed, “and talking about it won’t help so I’d really rather not.”

“That’s fine.” She shrugged, glancing around, “well, can I at least help?”

“How are you helping if I don’t want to talk about it?” You turned to her with a furrowed brow and she laughed softly.

“I meant with the baking.”

“Oh!” You huffed out an embarrassed laugh, your hand coming to cover your face briefly before turning back to her with a small smile, “yeah, of course. That might even help distract me more.”

“Good.” Leaning in she pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek before rolling up her sleeves, “well, what’s the next step chef?”

You giggled softly, sliding the mixing bowl you’d been using over to Emily and guiding her through the next few steps. While Emily was pretty decent in the kitchen, she certainly would never claim to have your level of skill when it came to baking and that was because she was never about following strict rules. She liked to add in her own flair, skip certain steps or mess around with the amounts and while that always worked out to delicious dinners, it would definitely result in cupcakes with the texture of sandpaper or butter tarts that were left soggy in the middle.

Having Emily in the kitchen with you not only distracted you, it calmed you down, relaxed you to a sense of peace that you’d been craving the past couple of weeks. She asked what you’d been listening to when she interrupted and you admitted with a small smile it was the road trip playlist the two of you had put together of all your favourite songs. You knew it wasn’t a road trip but music was known to bring back memories and every time you heard any of the songs you were immediately transported back to the adventures the two of you had together the previous summer. They made you feel warm and fuzzy inside and always brought a smile to your face and Emily felt the warmth bursting through her at your admittance, a grin plastered on her face while you guided her through the steps to make meringue.

The sun was nearly creeping over the horizon by the time you were finally yawning, a warm and gooey tray of cinnamon buns being pulled from the oven. Emily placed them on a rack to cool, washing her hands before turning back to you to ask what was next. Instead she caught you with your hands on your hips, chewing on your lip as you surveyed the state of the kitchen.

“You mentioned something about Rossi hosting a pretty big get together this weekend, right?”

“Yeah. Retirement party for one of the other agents on our floor, why?”

“Cause I think I maaayy have gone a little overboard.”  Your nose scrunched as you glanced over to her and she laughed softly, stepping towards you to kiss the tip of your nose, relaxing it as she did so.

“It’s the first time I’d seen you genuinely smiling all week, I wasn’t about to stop you.”

“Thanks.” Smiling softly you leant into the embrace, kissing her gently, “hope you’re ready to eat nothing but baked goods for a month.”

“Can we start with the cinnamon rolls and call it breakfast?”

An uncontrolled yawn escaped you when you opened your mouth to reply and Emily chuckled, “only if we follow it up with a nap.”

“Sounds perfect.” She pecked your cheek before moving to the cupboard, pulling down a couple of plates to serve the cinnamon buns with.

Overall you ended up with two batches of cinnamon rolls, five sheets of cookies, three dozen cupcakes consisting of vanilla, chocolate and confetti, three dozen muffins (blueberry, carrot and cranberry orange) lemon meringue pie, apple pie, lemon bars, peanut butter balls and a black forest cake. Emily stashed some of it, whether in the pantry or the freezer to save for later and helped you pack up the rest for that weekend, where you discovered Rossi was more than ecstatic to have someone else providing the goodies. Because after all, you were the baker, he was the chef, you’d stay out of each other’s ways but you each had your specialties and you were more than happy to share, especially if it meant quality time in the kitchen with Emily.

_______________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx cx cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @supercorpstan97 @asolitaryrose3 @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice @d33pd3sire-blog @daffodil-heart @maximoffcarter @i-lovefandom @chimnlex @moonlightjxuregui @chestnutninny @gamma-rae-bursts @just-moondust @idkifimasub @gaydragonwitch

[hughjackmansbicep]

Delicate

a/n: hi friends!!!! im hoping to make this into a multi part series, got lots planned for this mini fic :))))) this is kind of the prolouge to the real deal, needed to get the setup for it started before we divulge. expect lots of twists n turns my friends!

Pairing: Logan Howlett X F!Mutant!Reader

Warnings: uhhhhh none lol

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: The government has successfully began the eradication of all mutant species in the United States. Lucky for you your dad has taken careful precautions to protect you from the evil that lurks in the streets outside. Tucked away in a concealed basement you sat and rotted away clinging to your old life and dreams. What happens when one day you've got a severe hankering for some ice cream and he ran out of beer the same night? Both finding yourselves in the right place at the right time.

The world as you knew it was slowly coming to an end. Mutants everywhere were dropping like flies after the government slowly started poisoning everyone's food. Unless you were an off-grid loner living off the land, you succumbed to the same fate as everyone else, 6 feet under. Lucky enough for you, your father kept you pretty sheltered. Tucked away in your fully renovated basement, the world is ignorant of your existence. It was safer this way; I mean, sure, you missed going out to bars and seeing your friends; hell, you even missed those 8 a.m. bio classes you used to take. But this was safer; at least that's what your father always preached. “It’s safer down here, away from all those evil people.” He'd remind you every day, “You're to never leave my site, kiddo, and never step outside those doors.” Not like you could anyways, while your mutation allowed you to control the atoms around you and morph them into anything your heart desired, you had one weakness, adamantium. Your house was coated in it; every doorknob, lock, and even the goddamn windows were coated in the shit. 

It was 3:00am, no one was home, and you found yourself craving ice cream. It wasn't uncommon for your dad to leave you to your own vices. He still had a job he'd have to attend to, and that more often than not led you to solidarity on his trips. And here you were in the middle of the night, the light from the fridge illuminating the dimly lit kitchen, tearing your freezer apart hoping to magically find a pint of Ben and Jerry’s buried deep in the frost. You groan, sinking down to your knees, met with disappointment and an ever-growing craving for the sweet, delicious taste of The Tonight Dough. Sure, you could've totally put in an Uber Eats order, but where would the fun in that be? You stood in front of the adamantium-cladded door, using all your strength to melt it to the ground, but to no avail. The only thing between you and your Jimmy Fallon-adorned ice cream was some space metal, and to hell if your dad really thinks that's going to curve the urge.

For the next hour, you ran around the house like a lunatic looking for a weak point. Maybe your father missed just one spot—one tiny spot in this prison he calls a home. A small hole fit for the size of a mouse teased you. Sure, you control all the atoms around you but your own? You'd never even attempted to entertain that idea, although the worst that could happen is you turn your body into a permanent pile of slop. That didn't sound too terrible when compared to being a basement dweller for the last 7 years. And it turns out it wasn't as bad as you'd thought; you melted your body down into a pile of liquid, slithering your way through the walls of your house before you were spit out from a hole in the bricks. The air on your skin cascaded goosebumps along your body; you honestly couldn't remember the last time you felt wind grace your skin or the sun illuminating off your shoulders. 

You skipped happily toward the corner store, taking in every sound around you. The sound your feet made when they hit the pavement, the distant chatter of the locals crowding down the sidewalks, even the obnoxious sound of a car horn brought a smile to your face. You finally understood the saying, ‘the city that never sleeps.’ You reached the corner store, swinging the door open and prancing inside as if it were Disney World. Your happy fantasy faded as the man behind the register yelled at you to put some shoes on before walking into his store. You looked down, wiggling your free toes, with all the excitement of liquifying yourself to get a taste of the outside world, common societal rules had slipped your mind. “I um.. Just came to grab a pint of ice cream; I’ll be really quick, I promise.” You pleaded sheepishly, offering him a quick smile to butter him up a bit. He simply rolled his eyes in disgust and turned his back to you, mumbling something under his breath.

You made your way around the convenience store towards the dairy section when something, or rather someone, caught your attention. He looked tall, and even with a leather jacket on, you could tell he was huge. He had some silly-looking facial hair and even sillier-looking cat-ear-like hair, but man, he still looked good. Your eyes slowly traveled down his arms to his pants. Cute butt, you thought to yourself. He stifled a laugh before turning in your direction and saying, “Thank you.” He grumbled, turning back towards the beer cooler. “What?” You ask, heat rising to your cheeks once you realize you'd accidentally said that out loud. He didn't acknowledge you, just went back to scanning the cooler. You took that as a hint to keep moving, finally landing in front of the ice cream section and grabbing the last pint of your favorite ice cream. Carefully looking around to make sure nobody was watching you, you pulled the lid off and used your mutation to pull out all the atoms belonging to the anti-mutant poisons that were mixed in with the delicious sweet treat. Floating above the ice cream, you cautiously manipulated them into a different container of food and made your way back towards the front. What you didn't know was that the unfortunate corner store owner had been watching your freak act on the CCTV cameras the whole time.

Turning around one of the aisles, you had spotted two men in suits talking to the man upfront. You couldn't make out what was being said as they whispered, but watching him point to you using your mutation on the TV screen explained enough to you. You backed up slowly, trying to even your breaths out before you had a panic attack. You felt someone grab your shoulder, spinning you around into them. It was Mr. Cute Butt; he must be working with those suited men too. Your eyes go wide as you focus all your energy on him. You were attempting to melt him, freeing yourself from his grasp, but it wasn't working for some reason. He just stared at your brows laced together, trying to figure out what in the fuck were you doing. “You're going to shit yourself if you keep straining like that.” He whispered a low chuckle, following after.

You froze, looking up at the man with pleading eyes. “Please don't hurt me; I just wanted some ice cream. Please i'll leave right now, sir.” You rushed out searching his face for sympathy or remorse something in hopes he'd release his grasp on you. He looked confused at what you were saying to him as if you were speaking some foreign language, but that didn't last long once you two heard footsteps approaching you. “C’mon kid.” He grumbled out, dragging you by your arm, ducking in between the small isles towards the exit. “They're over here!” The man upfront yelled, and the mystery man beside you just groaned before scooping you up into his arms and rushing you out of the store. You both quickly fell into the crowd, blending into the sea of people that populated the streets of New York. As soon as you two were outside, he'd set you on your feet, his arm still gripping your wrist, dragging you through the city with him.

“I need to go home, sir; please don't hurt me. I'm so sorry.” You cried, tears adorning your cheeks as you pleaded with him; if your father knew what was transpiring at this very moment, you'd be toast. Absolutely never allowed outside your basement ever again; you could kiss the sun goodbye because you'll probably never see it again once he gets home. He ignored your pleas though as he pushed through the crowds to a parked motorcycle on the road. “Oh no, I am not getting on that thing.” You halted your movements, digging your heels into the ground. “Suit yourself, sweet cheeks.” He laughed at you dryly hopping onto the bike, “They'll find you eventually.” He kicked the stand up, revving the bike on. You looked through the crowd behind you, worry etching onto your face. Maybe he's right; maybe I should hop on that bike and ride it into the sunset with this beautiful specimen, or he's no better than those suited men and could ultimately be leading me to my death. “Just get on the fucking bike.” He growled at the sound of sirens roaring closer to you two.

Begrudgingly, you hopped onto the back of the bike, plopping the helmet latched behind you on your head. At this rate, your sure your dad is going to skin you alive and hang you up to dry. “Hang on tight, princess.” He turned around to smirk at you. You snaked your hands around his torso, and he took off, the force causing your face to smash into his back and your grip on him tightening. You were sure if you had been gifted some form of super strength, you would've popped his torso clean off his legs with how tight you were squeezing him. You attempted to give him directions back to your house, but he couldn't hear you and kept heading in the opposite direction. He totally could hear you too, but he was ignoring your requests to return you home.

The quick 15-minute drive felt like an eternity with how utterly petrified you were. Matter of fact, you were so scared, eyes clenched shut, arms squeezing all the oxygen out of his lungs, you hadn't even noticed that you'd arrived at your mystery destination. He pried your arms off him, causing you to open your eyes; you were in complete shock. A gorgeous castle-like building stood before you, surrounded by trees, and a long gravel driveway trailed in front of it. A voice broke you from your thoughts, but this sound didn't come from the man sitting in front of you; no, it appeared like it came straight from inside your head. 'Logan, would you please introduce me to your new friend? The voice sang through you, your head whipping around frantically to find the owner of these words. “C’mon, I got someone for you to meet.” The man in front of you finally spoke, helping you off the bike and placing the helmet back in its spot on the rear. He guided you through the mansion all the way to the back, stopping at two huge double wooden doors.

“Come in, please.” Rang the same voice you heard earlier, the double doors slowly opening before you to reveal a small, bald man sitting in a chair. “And who might this be, Logan?” He questioned, looking towards the big man next to you. Logan, huh, you thought to yourself, cute name and a cute butt. Logan awkwardly shifted beside you, the bald man sending a booming laugh throughout the room. “Oh my God.. Did I say that out loud?” You whispered heat rising to your cheeks once again. Ignoring you, Logan started explaining to the bald guy, whose name you quickly learned was Charles, what happened earlier. Logan had seen what you were doing in that small store—how you made some substance float out of the ice cream and back into another pint. He assumed you were attempting to do something similar to that when he had grabbed you, and you began shaking like a Chihuahua, yet all you could think about during their discussion of the previous events was how you never got to eat the ice cream you risked your whole life for. “So,” Charles spoke, directing his attention to you. “What can you do exactly? What were you doing with that ice cream?” He hummed his eyes, raking you up and down, studying all your features. hoping they might tell him about who you are.

You were fairly normal-looking; I mean, to the average human eye, they couldn't tell you apart from another human. You felt like a deer in headlights right now, though; you'd never been asked or questioned about your mutation. You never dared to speak about it aloud; hell, your dad wouldn't even let you use your powers ever; it's like he was ashamed of you. “I can... manipulate things, i guess.” You spoke quietly; it felt taboo to you to speak about this, like this was some intimate, inappropriate topic to discuss. “And what do you mean by that?” He mused, deeply interested in your mystery. “I’m not exactly sure, sir. I just know I can do this.” You focus your eyes on the pen sat upon his desk, watching it quickly fall into a liquid puddle. “Fascinating.” Charles smiled up at you, “Can you change it back?” You trained your eyes down on the mess you created, quickly blinking as it slowly morphed back into its original shape of a pen.

Charles laughed in amusement before clasping his hands together. “We have much to discuss, little one, but for now Logan will show you to a room you can rest in. We'll talk more tomorrow.” He nodded at you before Logan had turned around out the door. You took this as your sign to follow, doors shutting behind you both. He guided you up the stairs, stopping at a random white door and handing over a towel and toothbrush he'd picked up on the way to your room. “Just try and get some sleep.” He shoved his hands in his pockets as he spoke. “I’m just up the hall if you need anything, i guess.” He nodded his head in the direction of his door. You just smiled, turning around into your room and softly closing your door. 

You had no clue where the fuck you were or what these strange men were planning to do with you. You've heard the horror stories from your dad about how the government would poke and prod you if anyone knew what you could do. you'd be a test subject for rich white males to toy and play with. You'd set the towel and toothbrush down on a chair in the room you were assigned and slowly stalked your way to the bed. As you crawled into bed attempting to get some shut eye all that you could think to yourself was, "Man my dad is soo going to fucking kill me when he finds me."

[paiges-1vur]

Can I request Paige getting drugged (like at a bar) and Azzi notices and takes care of her. Only if you are comfortable writing that ofc. I just love the angst and Azzi taking care of Paige. If this prompt is too much maybe Paige getting into a fight defending someone and Azzi taking care of her black eye or something. Thank you so much!

black and blue… as always enjoy loves <3 *please read disclaimer at the end*

she spits on the ground. thankfully no teeth come out when she does, but theres definitely blood. azzi had been inside starbucks getting her morning coffee, per usual, when paige got into trouble. apparently while azzi was inside, someone saw and recognized paige and started to verbally assault her. although she was used to getting snide comments, this was different. the man, who appeared to be in his mid thirties came up to paige and pushed her, when she wouldn’t react to his homophobic remarks. clearly he was just trying to get a rise out of her… and in the end he did. it costed paige a punch to the jaw, and another to the face but she inevitably won the fight after she punched him in the stomach and then tripped him on his ass.

she groaned, holding her jaw where the took the blow as the man crawled to his feet and ran away, ashamed. azzi came running out of the starbucks to see paige outside of the car, leaning her forehead against the door of the drivers seat. “paige! what the fuck, what happened!” paige didnt answer but instead continued to hold her probably broken jaw and walk back and forth, her head thrown back in pain.

“paige. explain what the fuck just happened! your making me worried! what happened to your jaw?” she asked and demanded in confusion, trying not to get upset with paiges lack of communication. paige leans over on her knees. she spits on the ground. thankfully no teeth come out when she does, but theres definitely blood. she finally looks the girl in the eyes. “oh my- paige! your face is getting swollen, did you get into a fight? who hurt you?” paige looked at the girl. taking a deep breath she responds nonchalantly, “a stupid fucking guy was being homophobic and fucking tried to fight me because i was ignoring him.” she curses. “paige.. i dont even know what to say… please, just get in the car. we are going straight home and im going to take a look at you..” the brunette says trying her best to keep her cool. azzi was a pretty easygoing person and it took a lot for her to get visibly upset. of course she was concerned for paige, but she also couldn’t be mad at her. truthfully it wasn’t her fault. she swallows guiding the blonde to the passengers seat of the car to take her back to her apartment.

~~~

paige sits on top of the kitchen counter, waiting for azzi to come look at her. the brunette grabs an ice pack from the freezer and steps between the blondes legs, holding it up to her eye. “just.. hold this here baby. and, im not mad im just worried. i wish i could have been there to do something…” she says feeling guilty that this happened. paige smiles at azzi. “baby, its okay i handled it.” she pauses looking azzi in the eyes. “im just glad it was me and not you.” she says planting a kiss on the younger girls forehead. azzi smiles at paige, grabbing a wet washcloth to help fix her up. “you have… blood all over your face baby.” she says giggling slightly at how cute paige was, even when bloody and bruised. she wiped the blood off from around her lips and mouth before realizing her nose was also bleeding. she took care of paiges nose bleed, which was thankfully mild. after shes finally done cleaning her up she sighs, looking up at the girl. “i love you so much baby. thank you for fighting for us. literally.” paige smirked down at her. “of course love, and i bet i look pretty badass all beat up like this huh? like ralph macchio in karate kid. black eyes can be sexy” she says. the younger girl looks up at the older, “yea, you do look pretty sexy, and your always badass paige.” she pats her leg, “now i think your fine, thank god your jaw is still functioning, but i think we should call geno…” paige lets out a chuckle. “uh oh.. time for the big guns.. i wonder what lecture im going to get now..” she says rolling her eyes as azzi calls geno to alert him about paiges injuries.

hi guys! first off i hope you enjoyed this little bit, but i wanted to talk about something serious for a moment.

of course my page is a safe place for everyone but i just wanted to address a little bit of what this req was speaking about! i have no problem with writing about mature and serious topics. if anything i feel like fics that do include more mature situations would be the best for me, and my real life experiences. i have personally had a friend get laced, and seeing her severity and watch her almost pass away, was a very scary and serious situation. this specific req didnt make me uncomfortable to write because of that situation, but of course im here to write for you guys, so please let me know what you want to see from me. if you guys are okay with me writing about these topics, then im totally okay with it! everything is for your guys enjoyment and pleasure. so please let me know how you all feel, before i write about more mature topics.

[garbinge]

New Year in Jackson

Joel Miller x F!Reader Summary: New Years Eve in Jackson with a grumpy Joel. Warnings: Light angst, grumpy Joel but ends well. A/N: Just a little something for New Years! Happy New Year all <3 Hope to be posting more in 2024! Word Count: 1.5k

TLOU Taglist: @iraot​ @justreblogginfics @drabbles-mc

“It’s stupid.” Joel mumbled as he pulled out the items from the deep freezer. 

“It’s not stupid.” You disagreed with him as you moved behind him. 

“I don’t think it’s stupid.” Ellie said under her breath as she sat on Tommy and Maria’s couch, guitar in hand. 

“See, Ellie doesn’t think it’s stupid.” You pointed toward her and smiled before your head quickly turned to Joel. His face looked less than pleased, his expression had hardened but that was just what he looked like. When he was genuinely angry you could tell the difference, this was more… annoyed. Which you knew your way around pretty well. 

“I was able to grab champagne from the bar.” Tommy’s voice called out, it echoed against the bare walls of the house. 

“Tommy was able to grab champagne!” Your voice was chipper, the complete opposite of Joel. 

“I like champagne.” Ellie’s curious voice was peaking over Tommy’s shoulder to see what exactly he brought in. 

“You’re too young for champagne.” Joel stared down the girl. 

“It’s New Years, Joel. Let the girl have a sip.” Tommy’s grin would have earned him a push if company wasn’t around. 

“I don’t know why we’re botherin’ with this. Days, weeks, years, what’s it matter?” 

You looked up at him, Joel wasn’t exactly happy go lucky everyday but he seemed exceptionally more irritable today. It reminded you of Boston QZ Joel, pre-Jackson Joel. Your eyebrows moved closer together for a minute as you tried to understand what was happening with him but Maria’s voice interrupted your thoughts. 

“It’s something fun. Keeps spirits high. Makes life feel semi-normal.” 

“I don’t know why we gotta keep track of the years.” His voice seemed to be different, softer in the way Joel’s voice could be softer. 

No one answered him, everyone knew it wasn’t really a conversation they could have or an argument they could win with Joel so they just continued talking amongst themselves. 

As they talked you made your way around the round kitchen table and wrapped your arm around Joel’s, your head instinctually fell on his shoulder and you let out a sigh. He took his free hand and brought it up to yours, the one that was wrapped around his. He looked down when he felt the roughness across your knuckles, as quickly as he scanned over the dry and red patches he was scanning your face looking for an explanation. 

“Traded Seth my good working gloves for the string lights at the bar, for the decorations.” Your head tilted to the inside of the living room that had the lights strung across the ceiling. “Didn’t get a chance to grab a better pair from the market before I went out on patrol last night. They got chapped from the ripped up pair I used.” 

You had been here in Jackson just about 3 days but rules were rules. To stay, you had to work. It was the agreement you had come up with Maria and Tommy when Joel and you decided you’d move about 10 miles north where the abandoned farmhouse was. That and you brought in supplies from the farm, sheeps wool, cow milk, chicken eggs and they supplied you with items as well. 

“Seth is a fucking asshole.” Joel was caressing your rough skin with his thumb as he cursed under his breath. “I’ll be sure to get ‘em back for you before we leave.”

Leave. You could tell Joel was eager to get back home, he only came this far to humor you, New Years lined up perfectly with your routine supply drop off, which meant you’d stay a little longer than your normal two days. He’d always be internally counting down until the trek back home but since day 2 came and went the countdown was beginning to become more vocal. 

“What’s up with you today?” You changed the subject. Sure, you knew what was up, but this seemed more than just wanting to go home, this seemed like something specific was bothering him, and while you knew better of Joel to just tell you what was wrong, you still had to ask.

But apparently it wasn’t just you that wanted to change topics. “Hey.” Joel’s voice was startling to the others in the room. 

Ellie froze and looked up, champagne bottle in her right hand and a half-poured glass in her left. “What?” 

“Ain’t you a little young?” 

The smirk on Ellie’s face was enough to tell you the sarcastic comeback was loading. “Didn’t you just say, I don’t know why we gotta keep track of the years.” The last part of her sentence was spoken in her version of Joel’s voice. 

“She’s got you there.” You whispered in hopes that between the smile and the squeeze against his arm he’d back off a little. 

The smallest nod was given from Joel and he broke your embrace to escape into the living room. 

“Save some for midnight.” You pointed at the girl who was grinning as she poured the glass full. 

Leaving Tommy and Maria to be with Ellie, you turned to see Joel sitting with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands running through his hair. It was typical, he had been experiencing panic attacks for years now, it was all the emotion he buried from the last 20 years overflowing out. It wasn’t an awful thing, it meant he started to feel happy again sometimes, which was something you didn’t think you’d ever witness from Joel since meeting him at the Boston QZ. But that also meant the good came with the bad. 

The creaking of the floor in the house that belonged to Tommy and Maria normally would have alerted Joel but he was so deep in his head that he didn’t flinch a muscle. Picking up on his lack of awareness, you slowly approached him, not reaching out to touch him or even let your knee brush against his, you figured the sink of the couch to his left would startle him enough. And it did. 

His hands released from his head and he looked down at the seat and then up at your face before returning to a similar position to what he was in but this time a bit more relaxed. You could tell the motion pulled him out of his thoughts. 

It was silent between you both for a while, the only sounds being in the background of where you were. The sound of Maria walking out the back door, which meant the whining of their guard dog could be heard through the open kitchen window. The sounds of Tommy clinking and clattering as he made a small lunch for Ellie and himself. The murmurs of their chatter filled the silence between Joel and you nicely. Tommy asking Ellie how she likes living on the sheep farm, being away from Jackson. You hoped Joel was listening in, that the confirmation that Ellie loved the farm, loved how empty the sky was, how she had her own room, her own space. 

Listening in to their conversation must’ve taken your attention fully away because the sound of Joel’s voice startled you to jump a little.

“This shit reminds me of her.” 

A deep breath left your mouth, part of it was to let out the startle you felt when the words left his mouth but the other half was understanding the heaviness of his words. You knew it was the only thing he was going to say on the matter, the only explanation he was going to give as to his attitude and behavior. There was never really any conversation about Sarah, let alone mention of her name. It was always one off comments of her. So you just nodded and placed your hand on his knee. 

“You don’t have to do all of this if you can’t. I’ll stay with Tommy and Maria until we get our supplies from them while you and Ellie go back to the house.” 

This made Joel frown and look over to you. “Why wouldn’t Ellie stay with you? She seems excited about all this New Year’s nonsense.” 

“You haven’t heard her these last few minutes.” Your right hand rested on his knee. It was a statement more than a question, you figured he hadn’t heard her. “She’s been raving about the house, the sheep and how she can see the stars, sometimes even planets.” 

Joel’s face had the hint of a smile on it at your words. It made you wish he could have heard them come directly from Ellie because that hint of a smile would have been a full one. 

“I think she came because she knew how much I’d enjoy it. You two have that in common.” Your fingers squeezed around his thigh. 

It got silent between the both of you again, a comfortable one. Just enjoying the calmness of life around you, something that was hard to come by in this new world you lived in. 

“Someone said something about champagne?” Joel was trying his best to be open to the situation, this was his version of going so far as to try and enjoy it. 

The smile on your face was one that grew from the warm feeling filling your heart. 

“Yea, if Ellie didn’t drink it all.”

[sendpseuds]

12 days until Christmas

"I can't believe she dated that asshole," Anakin mumbles into his glass before tossing his head back and draining the contents, so deep into the spiral that he barely winces at the caustic burn creeping down his throat, "I can't believe I fucking punched him."

Definitely not his finest moment.

Anakin's glass is filled almost as quickly as it was emptied, eager to ease several different types of pain, struggling to steady his left hand as he pours himself another heavy measure, his right rendered useless by the kitchen towel haphazardly securing a ziplock bag full of freezer-burnt ice to his throbbing knuckles.

He'd marched home from the bar in huff, hurt and angry and struggling to remember where it had all gone so wrong, spilling the details of the disastrous night to the cheerful Christmas elf sitting on his TV stand the moment he stumbled through the threshold of his apartment, desperate to vent his every thought, impulse, and emotion to a friendly face who wouldn't try to dissect his psyche, regardless of whether or not that friendly face belonged to an actual human.

Now, alone in his sad post-grad apartment, he's drunker than he had been doing shots with Ahsoka and Rex on his twenty-first birthday and he's feeling worse about punching Padme's handsy ex than he had when he got home.

"She's gonna break up with me."

He'd realized his mistake the moment he saw Padme's face.

She had looked so—

Angry.

Upset.

Scared.

"It's fine," Anakin hisses through his teeth, taking another ill-advised sip of cheap spiced liquor, his jaw tight and eyes unfocused, "Better she leave now than die, I guess."

The words are biting and bitter on his tongue and when he turns to see Obi-Wan watching him patiently, Anakin feels a horrible wave of grief and guilt wash over him like an ice bath.

"I don't think I've actually told you yet, have I?" Anakin asks nonsensically to a stuffed children's toy, his throat tightening in anticipation of what's to follow as if his body is rejecting the words before he's even spoken them.

He doesn't want to say it.

He never does.

It never gets any easier.

But Obi-Wan deserves to know.

"Mom died."

Anakin shivers.

"Three years this February."

Vision blurred with rum and remorse, Anakin imagines for a moment that Obi-Wan's cheerful smirk looks almost impossibly sad and it's hard not to believe that a creation so special might mourn his maker.

"Fuck," Anakin curses, ice and injury forgotten as he buries his face in his hands, shaking his head like he can shake every bad memory from his mind, "I left you in that box for almost three years."

At the moment, Anakin is two drinks too deep to realize he's been hiding from Her. Hiding from her memory. Hiding from her art. His mother died and he packed away all the brightest parts of her— too broken to see anything but his own pain in the things she made with her entire soul.

"I'm sorry," Anakin chokes, finding himself on the floor, crawling toward Obi-Wan on his knees and pulling the little stuffed elf to his chest, "I'm so sorry."

It feels good and bad at the same time.

Easier to cry over an imaginary elf than his actual life falling apart.

Again.

"Were you lonely without me?" he asks, his insecurity wrapping around every slurred syllable, "I've been so lonely."

It takes several moments to realize his mistake.

"Was," he corrects, "I was lonely, I— Padme is amazing, she—"

It takes another few moments to remember why his hand has a heartbeat.

"Fuck, she's gonna break up with me."

She won't.

She won't break up with him because when Anakin Skywalker drags himself out of bed at the ass crack of dawn despite his crippling hangover to bring her an I'm Sorry croissant and chai, she will let him into her apartment.

She will hear his apology.

She will melt when he smiles.

She will forgive him.

She probably shouldn't.

But she will.

[ao3]

[buckets-and-trees]

Meat Cute

Collection: Trader James Characters/Pairings: future Bucky x female!Reader, Peter Parker Word Count: 2.2k Summary: Modern, non-powered AU. A girl and her love for Trader Joe's... You never know what kind of new and exciting finds you'll come across in a Trader Joe's or what you'll get to take home with you, and that's part of the fun of shopping here over other stores - you get your standard stuff, and then there's always something surprising.

Content Warnings: fluff; a ridiculous amount of Trader Joe's nerdery; also, if you're a vegetarian, you may want to steer clear, because this Bucky is BEEFY

Logistical Notes: Second tick for my Bingo Card for @the-slumberparty's August/September Challenge knocking out B3: "Collar." Don't get excited over it being that kind of collar. It's not. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Additional Notes: LET'S BE REAL: although it was a surprise to me when I hatched the idea last week, IT WAS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME BEFORE ASPEN CREATED A TRADER JOE'S AU. None of you are shocked. I know you're not. Also, this launch of the AU is dedicated to my wifey for her birthday, one of the most wonderful friends who just adopted me, and I couldn't love her more fiercely for it.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You smiled as you put your car into park in the decently close-to-the-store stall. Hands gripping the wheel still, you took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and just exhaled.

You were in your place.

This was familiar.

And you were hungry and had an empty fridge, freezer, and cupboards that all needed filling.

Actually, you were starving.

This was one of the few times it would not be to your detriment to do your grocery shopping on an empty stomach. You needed everything!

You hopped out of your car, and walked up to the sliding glass doors beneath the familiar red and white lettering that indicated you were in the familiar territory of Trader Joe’s. You grabbed a grocery cart and walked inside. Flanked right away at the entry by the displays of fresh flowers on one side and houseplants on the other, you looked but didn’t touch this time. You had a lot of other things to take care of before you needed to worry about plants or flowers in your new place. Although it was different than your old Trader Joe’s, you knew it would unfold similarly in the layout to you were used to here as well, starting by funneling you right into the fresh produce section, and you tossed some of your leafy green staples into the cart, along with tomatoes, corn, a sack of potatoes, oranges, and some cherries since they were in season. Next you grabbed a loaf of the sliced brioche, and then couldn’t resist the small package of brookie bars. They would heat up beautifully in your air fryer when you needed little treats to reward yourself this weekend.

Guacamole, hummus, a package of the fresh ravioli with corn and burrata, then into the fresh meat section. You picked up some of the boneless, skinless, fresh Atlantic salmon as well as … no. You had to stock your entire kitchen. You’d grab more fresh meat next weekend. You were already going to do enough damage with today’s grocery bill. So you moved on to the eggs, opening the carton and doing the visual check first for cracks on the tops of the shells, then quickly bumping each egg gently in its spot to check that it moved freely – it was a trick your grandma had taught you: if the eggs had cracked on the bottom, they would ooze, making them stick to their spots. All twelve checked out.

You continued your circle around the perimeter of the store through the dairy for sour cream and Greek yogurt, then into the cheeses. You bit your bottom lip. What to spoil yourself with this time… You went with a hunk of Toscano soaked in Syrah and took a chance on a strawberry white stilton cheese. The sticker on the red, wax-covered hunk of cheese said it paired well with pomegranate. You would need to get some proper crackers. That or head back to the bread aisle. But the breads were right next to the bakery items, and you probably deserved to get some of the brookie bars.

You didn’t go down every aisle, but almost, and by the time you made your way to the check-out lines, your cart was respectably and entirely full. The area at the front of the store was bustling and crowded as shoppers ushered themselves into lines. It was the kind of crowd to be expected in the late afternoon on a Saturday, so you didn’t fuss about the lines, just chose the relatively shortest option, and then pulled out your phone to entertain and distract yourself while you waited through the customer currently checking out and one cart ahead of you.

As they wrapped up business and it was almost your turn, you sent a quick text to your mom, snapping a quick under the radar photo of the checkout area and your very full basket, letting her know you had wrapped up and were clocking in your first visit at your new home Trader Joe’s. She reacted almost immediately with the heart emoji and said she was glad you were settling in. You smiled, knowing this move was hard for her – she was happy for your career leap, but devastated to have her girl out of state.

You slipped your phone into your pocket quickly as you pushed your cart right up to the checkout counter, the cashier reaching out for the end of the basket to assist you.

“Hey, how’s your day been so far?” they asked as you stepped past the register to the customer arm rest where you could see each other.

“Oh, not too bad,” you responded habitually. You were ready for the robustly friendly interaction your cashier and possibly the bagger would give you. It was one of the reasons you had still wanted to make your first grocery run rather than order or pick up dinner – you wanted that small moment of human connection. Although it was customer service stranger to stranger, Trader Joe’s employees knew the culture was to try and make that customer service a moment of genuine connection, to let each customer know they were seen and appreciated.

But what you were not ready for was looking up into the eyes of a towering, excessively broad shouldered man, whose chest and arms were fit to burst out of his navy blue Trader Joe’s crew t-shirt, hair pulled back into a man bun with a few strands tucked behind his ear, a soft smile, and steel blue eyes that when you locked onto each other shot right into your soul.

No, you were decidedly not ready for that, and your stomach and chest flared very suddenly with violent butterflies.

“Did you find everything you needed today?” he continued after a small beat.

In that next split second, you reminded yourself to breathe, and blinked to try and reset your brain. This was fine. You glanced back at the basket, then let out a small laugh. “Probably more than I needed! I don’t think I could fit anything else in the cart.”

“No, I guess not,” he assessed as he looked back to the basket, grabbing the yellow bell peppers with a warm laugh of his own and then keying in their code. “But it looks like you pulled a good haul.”

“I’m going to double bag your groceries,” the younger man standing next to your stupidly handsome cashier said, drawing your attention. “That should do you.”

“Oh, perfect, thank you,” you said. The nametag on his chest read Peter.

“Sure, no problem,” he said. This brunet was nowhere near as big as the man next to him, but stood at average height and average build, and you were glad not to have him to tamper this down to a much more normal encounter. You guessed the younger man was somewhere between twenty and twenty-five, with one of those youthful, open, friendly faces, and a manner that could clearly cheer and put anyone at ease.

“Any plans for tonight,” your cashier asked, drawing your attention back to him.

“Oh, I hope not,” you immediately spat out.

There was a lightning-fast exchange of a look between the two men, and you grinned and explained, “I just moved here today for a new job, and I start Monday, so just lots of unpacking and settling in for the rest of the weekend.”

“Oh, that’ll keep you busy. Good thing you’re stocking up on snacks,” he added, holding up the small box of dark chocolate coconut almonds, then scanning it and handing it to Peter. You glanced at his nametag to see the name James, as he continued to grab, scan, and hand off the next item and the next.

Peter held up the small tub of body butter with its magenta lid. “Have you tried this Brazil Nut lotion yet?”

“Yes!” you gushed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do when the summer is over!” It was only due to be a seasonal scent.

“It’s so good! Did you see we have it in bodywash? I picked one up a couple of days ago.”

James huffed a laugh.

“What?” Peter asked. “It does smell amazing, and all the girls love it!”

You grinned even more. “He’s not wrong. It’s a good strategy.”

James rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, too.

“Where’d you move here from?” Peter asked.

You responded with your hometown.

“No way! That’s where my gran used to live!”

You and Peter compared notes over some of your favorite places as he and James continued to efficiently move through your acquisitions. James was attentive to your conversation but didn’t have much to contribute. You guessed he’d never been to your hometown. But when your eyes moved back to him, he was alternating between retrieving and passing the groceries and you.

You also realized you were fidgeting nervously with the collar of your linen button down. You hadn’t dressed up – because you were only going to Trader Joe’s, you weren’t supposed to be bumping into an Adonis – but you were glad you’d at least changed out of the old t-shirt that had gotten you through moving day. This wasn’t fancy, but it least it wasn’t torn and sweaty.

You were still fidgeting with the collar.

Stop, you thought. You’re just buying groceries.

You conscientiously placed both your hands down on the

“Ready for the damage today?” James asked, and you looked into his eyes again, reminding yourself to keep your heart rate steady.

Peter suddenly disappeared from his spot without a word, which seemed strange – to both you and James, it seemed – but then you looked back at each other.

You crossed your fingers. “Give it to me.”

He turned the small display for the customer total to you, and you tilted your chin up a titch, a satisfied smile on your face.

“That’s not awful for a decent kitchen and cupboard stocking.”

“Pretty respectable,” he agreed. “Cash or card?”

“Card,” you replied, and he hit a button on his register, and you saw the card reader down at your waist light up. He didn’t fill the space with any more talk but let you focus on putting the payment through.

The sound of the receipt printing brought you both back. “Looks like it went through,” James said, and waited for it to finish printing, then tugged it away from the receipt printer, and handed it to you.

At that moment, Peter reappeared out of nowhere with a bouquet of sunflowers from the fresh flower section and held them straight out to you. “A little housewarming gift, compliments of me, Bucky, and the spirit of ol’ Joe himself.”

You gasped. “What? Really?”

“Of course!”

“Wait, who’s Bucky?”

“Oh,” James said, rubbing the back of his neck, and you saw just a touch of red on his cheeks. “That’s me. I go by Bucky, not James unless it’s serious.”

Peter pushed the flowers into your hand and took the receipt from Bucky’s hand and tucked it into one of the grocery bags.

“Thank you,” you said, truly touched.

“I hope you have a good weekend,” Bucky’s warm voice melted your heart even more.

“Thanks, you, too.”

“And we’ll see you again soon,” Peter said, pushing the cart out for you to take.

You nodded and then made your way to the exit, setting the flowers to rest in the top basket of the cart, a stupid grin on your face that you didn’t feel a need to wipe away.

After loading the groceries into the back of your vehicle, you pushed the cart into the cart corral, retrieved your flowers, and held them close to your chest. There were a hundred reasons you loved Trader Joe’s – and yes, you had even looked to see if there was one in this town when you were interviewing for the job, and you’re pretty sure it wouldn’t have affected your decision if there hadn’t been one here – but the warmth of the crew that worked there was one of the consistent things people could typically count on. Peter and James – or Bucky – had made your first trip to your new Trader Joe’s just the warm adventure you needed.

As you set the flowers on the passenger seat next to you and buckled in, you were glad though that if this store was like your old Trader Joe’s, the crew seemed to rotate enough in shifts and days – as did your own shopping habits – that you probably wouldn’t see them again, at least not regularly. As much as you wouldn’t mind seeing Peter any time you dropped into the house of Joseph, you didn’t want or need to worry over whether you would bump into that kind and far too attractive cashier or not. That would be too stressful, and Trader Joe’s was your home away from home here as you built the next chapter of your life in this new city.  

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[dearabby1990]

Chapter 42: Rockin reception

Running down the aisle hands clasped together giggling like school children you both run to the side of the property where your reception is being held to see how absolutely gorgeous it looks the koi pond is to die for the gazebo has hand carved roses and vines down the pillars the yard it perfectly decorated & at the middle of it all is a one large table surrounded by the small round ones for your guests. Your wedding party table Jeff & Grant have the DJ station set & ready to go. You know it’s gonna be awhile for everyone to find their assigned seats so you decide on giving Eddie one of his gifts while you both wait. “My love?” He turns to you eyes of a child full of excitement love & adventure “yes princess?” Pulling his hand to your lips kissing his knuckles “I got you a few wedding gifts & id like to give you one of them since we have to wait a bit anyway” “well what the hell are we waiting for let’s go beautiful” you tug him around to the front of the property he starts to look very confused “uh honey I think it’s a little too early for us to leave our wedding just yet I still have to dance with you beautiful” you giggle “we’re not leaving goof ass come on” pulling him up to the front drive way to the newly built mailbox that you purposely had gareth wrap in wrapping paper so Eddie couldn’t see what was on it. “Go ahead Ed’s take the paper off this sucker for me please?” He furrows his brows “why in the hell would you wrap this mailbox in paper” he’s laughing but starts tugging at the tape and paper anyway as you stand eagerly to see his reaction as soon as he’s got it fully unwrapped he stands there emotionless the black mail box with purple numbers & lettering etched across the bottom “The Munson’s” he turns to you eyes brimming with tears “honey does this mean?…” you wrap your arms around his neck “yes Ed’s this our new home” you step back twirling his own set of keys to the house you made sure to fill the loop with loads of skull & d&d dice homemade keychains tossing it to him it bounces off of his chest & into his hands. “Come on handsome let’s take a quick tour” he smiles grabbing you pulling you to the front door “sweetheart I can’t believe this is ours I don’t even remember this place being up here” “baby I bought the property & built it from scratch well the contractors did” his jaw drops “honey are you fuckin kidding how much was all this?!” “Eds it doesn’t matter but to make you feel better it was cheaper then you think this area has been for sale for 30 years I got a deal now hush no money talk let’s go see” you tug him inside all black leather furniture black marble tables and lamps to match cherry hardwood flooring plush lavender carpets. Heading into the large kitchen with big marble island & countertops two fridges and a deep freezer because you know the guys will be over a lot. “Wow honey this is absolutely insane I love it” “love that’s not even the best part” you take him through your large dining room towards the stairwell “okay big gift first the second door on the right” he opens it to see a room painted black with a large table made of an old burnt tree & a custom thrown & every edition of all the d&d manuals you could get your hands on a closet full of dice & blank new figures for everyone to paint loads of pre set character sheets & an art station off to the corner along with a small bar “holy fuckin shit!! Holy shit baby what the fuck?!” He picks you up spinning you around the room before kissing you crashing his lips into yours “thank you princess this is the best gift I’ve ever received” tears in his eyes “that’s not all honey let’s go” you pull him into your new bedroom California king sized bed a mirror on the ceiling all black marble dressers & night stands leading into a master bathroom with a large jetted tub stand in shower & his & her sinks “honey this is absolutely gorgeous you did amazing” “no problem handsome anything for you this is our forever home so it had to be just right” hugging him from behind “come come still more” pulling him to the other 3 bedrooms.

Tugging him into the bedroom next door to yours painted yellow & already set up a full nursery with a beautiful round crib with canopy Eddie walks around the room at all the stuffed animals & books gets to the crib & turns to you “there’s a gift in the crib eds” he tilts over the top of the crib to see a pregnancy test & picks it up “princess does this mean?..” “you’re gonna be a daddy” & with that he sweeps you off your feet into a hug sobbing into your shoulder “I love you thank you sweetheart for everything I’m gonna be a daddy & without you that wouldn’t be possible I love you so much. Wait… does anyone else know?” “No I figured we could tell them together I just found out this morning I wanted a nursery set regardless for when we were ready I just didn’t think it’d happen that quickly haha” he pulls you back down the stairs you both look out the back door to see all your guests seated “ready princess?” “You know it” opening the door grant sees you both & grabs the mic “may I present to you the new Mr & Mrs Munson!!” Everyone standing clapping & whistling as you both make your way to the clearing for dancing as “My eyes adored you” by Frankie Valli & the four seasons starts to play you & Eddie wrapped in each other your arms around his neck his rested at your waist foreheads touching swaying to the music. Your ankles start to feel cold & you turn to see gareth with a fog machine giving you a thumbs up you mouth a thank you to him & he mouths an anytime back at you. You turn back to kiss your husband as your fairytale becomes a reality the song dies down at you both head to your table as Jeff finds an appropriate mix of music to play so everyone can be seated for food & drinks. “That cake looks great sweetheart where’d we get it?” “Oh no my aunt made it for us Ed’s she’s amazing I mean just look at it it’s art you can eat” you laugh together his hand resting on your thigh you both have been smiling at each other since you set foot on that aisle & just couldn’t stop yourself finally knowing what happy feels like you never want the feeling to disappear. As everyone enjoys their meal Eddie keeps his one hand on your belly & the other with fork in hand eating every so often kissing your cheek & whispering sweet nothings in your ear “that dress is gorgeous sweetheart but I bet it’d look even better on the floor” his breath tickling your ear sending chills down your spine. You lean over to reply to his naughty statement “oh yeah well you look good just sitting in that chair but I bet you’d look even better with me sitting on you instead” he groans “keep it up sweetheart you’re gonna pay for that later” “I’ll be looking forward to it” & with that you graze your fingers across his inner thigh watching him shift & squirm in his seat making you giggle but also excited to bless every room in the house as soon as this is all over. Everyone enjoys their meal & it’s almost time for speeches but first you want to make your announcement. You stand up brushing down the skirt of your dress & clear your throat while tapping a butter knife against your glass of sparkling cider everyone turns to you & you gesture for Eddie to stand up “Firstly I’d like to thank everyone for coming today & celebrating with us. You have no idea how much each of you truly mean to us. Now before we get into speeches & getting all sappy or goofy depending on who’s speaking but with that being said me & Eddie have some new news for you all & we figured what better time to tell everybody than now. So I just wanted to tell you that we’re…. HAVING A BABY!!” Eddie screams the last part with you his eyes sparkling with something that makes your heart race but melt all at the same time. Everyone is cheering & a few people stand up to head to our table. Wayne is full on sobbing along with Joyce & Robin who’s full on sprinting towards you to wrap you in a vice like hug “congratulations oh my god I’m so excited I’m gonna have a niece or nephew!!” You cry with her Steve’s next in line giving you a warm comforting embrace “I’m so happy for you both” to be continued…

[ohraicodoll]

Ok LOVE the tommy and red hcs, I need to know how maria and Joel reacted when they found out tommy punched an asshole??

Tommy Miller was not scared of his wife.

But he was fully aware that she might not be the most rational in her current condition. So when he pulled up to his house after leaving Joel and Red's place, he'll admit he hesitated when he saw her standing in their doorway with her hands on her hips. He opened his mouth to speak and she held up a finger, mouth pressed together sternly. "Inside," she bit out before turning on her heel. He wondered when being around Red had become the safer option, but swallowed his grimace and walked into their home. The whiskey Joel had given him had made him looser, more warm, and he tried to blame that on the sweat across his brow. When he gave his brother the run down of what had happened at the wood mill, he could see the surprise in his eyes. That Tommy had actually defended the woman and what that meant. Miller boys were known to be protective and it was just as clear as spelling out that Tommy considered her one of theirs. Red had been quiet but not unnervingly so, rolling her eyes at their jokes. Despite Joel being unhappy about what had happened (threatening that if he knew who did it, he was going to make due on Tommy's threat), the man was more pleased. Red was safe, the assholes got what was coming, and Tommy had protected the family. Drinks all around.

The air was still warm, windows slightly cracked to let in a breeze and Tommy wanted nothing more than to lay on the couch and sink into the fuzzy feeling from the alcohol. It felt all in all like a nice, pleasant day if it wasn't for the lighting coming off his wife and his hand starting to sting like a bitch.

Tommy followed Maria to the kitchen and chewed on the corner of his lip, shuffling in place in the silence. She only turned to the freezer and got out an icepack before shoving him into a chair none too gracefully, "You wanna tell me why the hell I had four different people tell me you socked one of the guys down at the mill?"

"Honey-" Maria held up her finger again and Tommy swallowed his platitudes as she aggressively put the icepack on his sore hand, "Don't you try that, Tommy Miller. First I have to worry about Red then Joel and now you're out here hitting people too?" "Those men were being aggressive and harassing her," he spoke up with frustration, "They needed to be told to back off." "Told, Tommy," she interrupted him, "the key word is told. Your fists weren't saying anything." "Well they certainly listened afterwards," he grumbled. She sighed, closing her eyes to take a deep breath, "You can't go punching people, baby. It doesn't look good and it doesn't help when she's involved-" Tommy scoffed, which probably wasn't the greatest move but he wasn't exactly known for being smart, "If it was Ellie or you, I would have done the same thing. She's family, honey. Like it or not. We gotta protect our own and those guys weren't gonna listen to reason-" "And you know that how?" She cocked her hip out with a raised brow, pursed lips, "Did they say that right before you sucker punched them?" "I know the type," he argued. He did. He'd seen it at the bars years before. Hands grabbing at waitress' waists, their hands, pulling and grabbing and their comments. Someone needed to teach them a lesson. Maria sighed, "You Millers and your thick heads." She couldn't help but shake her head and he thanked god for pregnancy mood swings for once. He could see the anger leaving her body completely and he gave her a grin, rubbing his hand on her belly and pulling her close, laughing when the grin became contagious. He had no doubt she'd bring this up later when the mood swung again. But he was in the clear for now and if he kept charming her, maybe she'd see his reasoning. "They're on probation, just so you know," she muttered, letting herself get pulled into the circle of his arms, "We could have just tossed them in the jail for the rest of the day. No more punching people or else I'm gonna throw you in there too. God help me if this baby ends up with all the Miller genes." Tommy grinned, "Yes, ma'am." At least the baby would have a hell of a family watching their back.

[his-red-right-hand]

his red right hand Chapter Five

You awoke with a groan as your alarm blared from your bedroom, your tv hissing with the familiar white noise of static. Must’ve fallen asleep watching the movie. It would almost be peaceful if your alarm would just shut the fuck up.

You forced yourself upright with a hiss of pain, your side twinging uncomfortably as you moved in a way that aggravated the stitches there. Pausing to let the pain recede, deep breaths, you mostly stumble into your bedroom. Collapsing onto your bed, you hit your alarm maybe harder then it deserved. Just had to remember to breathe. Lying there until the pain subsided down to an ache, you looked over at the red numbers of your alarm clock, yup, seven thirty, it was still set for your regular shifts. Well, at least you had a few hours to get yourself ready without tearing out the stitches holding you together.

Plus, whilst the cut He gave you on your neck hadn’t been serious enough to require any sort of intervention, you still needed to work out a way to hide it. You didn’t want every customer and co-worker to know you almost got your throat slit. The cut on your collar bone had needed some butterfly stitches, so spaghetti straps were out for a while as well.

And you needed to shower. And to eat something, no matter how unappealing it was. Dying of an infection seemed almost anticlimactic after meeting The Ghost Face, and you were not immune to judgy nurse face, so you would be taking your antibiotics. Maybe you could buy some granola bars or something on the way home from work; they seemed like the least offensive option that required zero effort.

It was slow work getting yourself up, cleaned, and fed. Well, for a given measure of fed, you found some leftover noodles in your fridge that still smelled mostly okay. It was a good thing that you were working a half day today, other wise you’d be late. Hopefully you’d get faster at this as you got used to working around the hole in your side.

On the bright side, you had worked out how to avoid awkward neck wound related enquiries. You dug around in the vague pile that was your jewellery box and found a choker make of thick black velvet ribbon. You thought it might have been a gift from someone; a little goth for your tastes normally, but it covered what you needed it to and wouldn’t raise any eyebrows. And also thank goodness for low rise jeans, you didn’t want to imagine how uncomfortable you would’ve been with a waistband pressing up against your stitches all day. Along with a mostly clean t-shirt you were only putting your Docs on from being ready to head out.

Now just to try and fill the hours until you needed to leave.

The urge to break your no getting stoned before work rule was high.

Heh, high, funny, not.

You couldn’t get your brain working for long enough to read anything, hadn’t been able to for so long now. One of the few joys you had in life taken away from you, just like everything else. A small, treacherous part of your brain decided to remind you precisely where on the kitchen counter you’d left the bottle of pain meds you’d been given and that you had a bottle of vodka in the top drawer of your freezer. You quickly pushed that thought aside, you’d meant what you told Jed, you weren’t going to kill yourself. You just wouldn’t be particularly upset if you found out you had a terminal illness. Or if a local serial killer decided to kill you.

After all, what was the point of this endless empty waste of day after day after day after day.

Fuck, now you really wanted to get stoned.

You moved over to your tv, switching it on and, more gingerly than you’d like, settled yourself onto the couch. A bit of channel surfing, looking around for something nice and mindless you could half pay attention to until it was time to leave. Just turn off your brain for a little bit as you checked out the tube. Just try and mellow your vibes right the fuck out without any chemical assistance.

How the fuck did you normally get into work without being a complete wreck? Oh right, you were normally too exhausted to really think; and then interacting with the general public killed what remained of your brain cells. And once you were done you got really fucking high. You hoped this would be the only half day you had to work; you weren’t sure you could do your job without throwing things at people if you were actually awake for it.

MTV ended up being your saving grace, a nice procession of music videos to soothe and file down the sharp corners of your mind. Maybe you should go to the record shop once you were done with work for the day, you hadn’t been for such a long time now. Maybe you could see if you actually enjoyed music again, the way you used to.

Nope, that was just being fucking depressing again.

You lifted your head to look at the clock on the wall, about 20 minutes until you should leave. Fuck it, you could be early. You had probably gotten all of the not depressing thoughts you could out of your brain, an hour and a bit wasn’t too bad. You headed to your front door, grabbing your watch out of the little bowl where it lived with your keys and wallet, putting it on before shoving the latter two into your messenger bag. your Docs went on with only a little pain thanks to some careful manoeuvring. Then, a few careful moments considering your collection of cassette tapes before taking Temple of the Dog down and opening the case, slotting the tape into your walkman.

Say Hello 2 Heaven filled your ears as you put on your headphones, the music easing a few more of your jagged edges. Taking a moment to check your appearance in the mirror hanging by the door, yup, no knife wounds visible. Time to do this.

Opening your door and stepping out to another hot Florida day, its intensity quickly muted by your sunglasses. Locking your door behind you, you started your walk to the bus stop that’d take you into down town. Maybe you could try picking up a copy of the gazette before you got to the book store, check out how your interview with Jed went. Might even be worth getting a subscription, it was apparently the best way to keep up with your local serial killer, if the general gossip you heard about town and the odd headline you’d seen were to be believed.

Not that you generally believed guys who promised you a lot of fun, the last time it had even been close to true it was your Dad telling you about having your birthday at Showbiz Pizza. But it might be nice to try and keep track of him, you know, seeing as you’d met him and all.

A vague plan for day in mind, you relaxed at the bus stop, letting the music wash over you as you got on the bus, tapping your bus pass; and rode it into Rosewood proper. Getting off a few minutes later, you walked down the high street, heading into the convenience store a couple of blocks away from your job to grab the paper, picking up some granola bars as well whilst you were there. Now at least when your shift was up you could head straight home. After you paid for your purchases you walked another block to the Sunrise Diner, home to shocking amounts of cholesterol and a passable cup of coffee. And somewhere you can read through the paper for a little bit before you actually needed to get to work.

You settled onto a seat, pulling your headphones down for a moment to smile at the waitress and order “Just coffee, thanks.” Taking a moment to flip the tape that’d come to an end, Times of Trouble starting back up, and weren’t that the truth. Adding cream and sugar to your coffee, you took a slow sip. Dang, that was somewhat better than mediocre. Eh, Dale Cooper you were not, but you were drinking it more for the semblance of energy than for the flavour. Pulling the paper from your bag, you let your eyes take in the headline ‘Roseville Ripper Strikes! Three Dead and His First Survivor’ before skimming through the article. You’d read it properly later, to give it the attention it deserved. But given that you were present for the events it was reporting, you felt okay skipping the recap.

‘...families are heartbroken. The Gazette was able to speak to the survivor of the attack, who is in hospital in stable condition and recovering well, who has requested to remain anonymous.’

You hadn’t, fuck you could do that, but damn did you own Jed for that one. You didn’t exactly want to become famous as “That Girl Who Didn’t Die When Stabbed”. Should look into buying him a bottle of something nice to drink, like Scotch or something? That was what journalists drank, right?

‘...to remain anonymous. They were not part of the initial attack, nor are they a resident of the building. They told the Gazette that they were invited to the party by a friend attending courses at Roseville University; and had stepped out to get some air when they noticed a flash of light. They went to investigate, assuming that there was perhaps something untoward going on. But nothing could prepare them for the horror they found. The brutality of the attack already over, and instead a monster viewing his victims.

They spoke about the terror of the realisation of what they were witnessing froze them to the spot; and they were then attacked by the Ghost Face Killer. Apparently content to leave this new victim to bleed out; he then retreated from the scene, perhaps fearing being discovered by others?

Luckily for them, their fellow party goers quickly discovered the scene. An ambulance was called to rush them to the hospital where they underwent emergency surgery for their injuries. They were very frank about their confusion upon initially waking up; having believed that they seen their last the previous night. They credited their survival less on any form of luck or blessing, but instead they believe themself to be “Too much of an afterthought” to warrant a more thorough attack.

When asked if they had any advice should anyone else be unfortunate enough to encounter the killer that is haunting our town, their response was simply “Run as fast as you can.” A chilling take away from an encounter that that person is unlikely to ever forget.’

Reading it in print like that, it was easy to pretend it hadn’t happened to you. That it was all just a very vivid, if in somewhat poor taste, dream. That you got your fun new scar in the making in some sort of regular misadventure that involved too much alcohol, and the unironic use of the word hijinks.

Ugh.

You were halfway through your first coffee refill, trying to get your thoughts in some semblance of order before you inflicted yourself upon the general public, as you looked up at the clock. Shit, time to face the music. You pulled a five from your wallet, leaving it next to your cup as you folded the paper back up into your bag and headed out.

Roseville Books was Roseville’s premiere bookshop, if you didn’t count the Borders in the mall, with respectable genre collections and a somewhat knowledgeable staff. Even if they did tend to err on the side of sarcasm when it came to answering dumb questions. Was the large True Crime display about unsolved murders in the front window potentially in poor taste? Yes. Did they have to partially disassemble it at one point because they sold out of all the titles in it? Also yes. There’s nothing quite like a serial killer on the loose to drive interest.

You hear the jangle of the bell on the door as you push it open, heading inside, the soft sounds of Top 40 radio filling the air. The shop stereo was restricted to that after some uptight asshole had complained about the staff picks for music. Shoegaze was apparently not for everyone. You gave a quick wave to Zoey behind the counter as you headed into the backroom to hang up your bag in your cubby and get your ever so chic green work vest, proudly displaying your name badge.

Devin looked up from their desk, smiling and looking relieved as he saw you. “Hey there! You doing okay?” Oh no, he was getting up, please don’t go in for a hug, okay, he was just getting up to talk. Thank fuck.

“A little slower than normal, but not too bad, thanks.” You managed a tight smile, not really wanting to admit that the only reason you were here was that you were terrified that if you lost momentum on the sort of life you were managing to scrape by with that you would never be able to get up again.

“Okay, well, you’re going to replace Zoey up on the tills, got a stool for you to sit on and everything; and she’ll handle floor questions and join you on the tills if it gets busy. All good?”

“Yup, sounds great. I’ll - ah - get right on that.” You took a step back, not really sure how to best retreat from the conversation. Like, it was nice they cared, it was definitely better than working for an asshole, but you didn’t quite know how to react to your boss being the one to show the most concern for your welfare out of everyone you knew, including yourself.

You were stopped by Devin clasping a hand to your shoulder, giving it a little squeeze as he said “I’m really glad you’re alright.” You manage a quick nod and bustle your way back out into the shop, letting out a long breath before schooling your features into customer approachableness. You walked next to Zoey by the tills, seeing your aforementioned stool, hopping up to perch on it.

“You good there?” she asked you, her concern mostly cursory.

“Yup, all set. And hopefully back to full speed in not too much time.” The doctors had said you should be most of the way recovered in about 3 weeks, the internal damage taking a little longer. Apparently you’d only been mildly stabbed in the kidney.

“Heard you got attacked or something?”

Fuck. Can’t just admit to meeting a serial killer seeing as you actually had anonymity. Spin something, spin something fast. “I got lightly mugged. Luckily you can’t lose shit if you don’t have shit to steal.”

“Aww jeez, that sucks. At least you didn’t run into that Ghostface guy or something.” Oh Zoey, if only you fucking knew. “I’ma go stretch my legs then. See you for the lunch rush.”

You give her a quick flick of the wrist wave, spinning on the stool to face the front of the store, propping your elbows on the desk next to the register as you rested you chin in your hands. The stool was good, the phone was in easy reach if anyone called, and you could probably reach the special orders shelf without getting up. You should’ve bought gum for something to do.

Two phone calls, yes you did carry bibles and no Mr Books was not available, later and the Lunch Rush started. There were a couple of office blocks nearby, one of which had a book club amongst the workers; and both of them had a significant population of Harlequin Romance enjoyers. Not exactly your thing, but given some of the stuff you’d indulged in, you were in no place to judge. But most importantly, they had two alternating lunch shifts, half at twelve, the other half at one; and they descended like a swarm, taking the moderately bustling shop to two hours of midweek retail hell.

At least you only almost brained yourself once reaching into the special orders shelf.

And honestly you deserved an award for not throwing anything at all the people who felt the urge to loudly question why you had the apparently gall to dare to sit in their field of view. And just maybe, you wished a personal visit from the friendly local serial killer to the one who all but demanded you pull your shirt up to show her your stitches to believe that you actually were injured and were on limited duties. All because she had to wait for Zoey to get her some books from a high shelf.

God, you hated the public.

Two o’clock came slower then you’d like but faster than you dreaded, Zoey heading off for her break; and Devin coming up front to pull your normal duty of fixing the chaos that was formerly well organised sections. At least that’d keep them busy enough to avoid having to make small talk.

Whilst your last hour crawled, it was mostly occupied by a phone call that had you pecking out queries on the shop computer, it there almost entirely for the database of books they could order in. It would have been a lot easier if the person on the other end could actually remember the author or title, but that would be asking for a miracle and they did not happen in retail. But you did eventually get the, hopefully, right title ordered; and if it wasn’t then you at least hoped you weren’t behind the counter that day.

“So, do I get to do a full day tomorrow?” you asked as Devin came back from reorganising the horror back corner, that you were very proud of the selection of.

A moment’s thought. “Full day. Mostly behind the counter, but we’ll see if you can manage a little floor time. Deal?”

“Deal.” That was the moment your stomach chose to let out a growl, holy fuck were you actually hungry? Must have been expending energy trying to heal yourself.

Zoey came back from her break looking about as enthused to be back as you were to be alive, but you at least waited for her to come back out to slip off your stool. And you only needed to take a short pause to get yourself upright and able to walk. And she had the decency to not give voice to the look on her face, the one that said you looked like shit. The nurses had said light exercise was good for your recovery, you couldn’t get much lighter than standing up and walking.

“Gonna head out the back way, see y’all around.” A quick wave good

You took a few moments in the back to rest your forehead against the wall, taking one deep breath, then another. It was fine. You were fine. Time to go home and get so stoned you couldn’t think, then just rinse and repeat. Back to as if nothing happened to you in the first place.

Taking off your vest, you hung it back up in your cubby hole and picked your bag up as you started to head home. Your tape player and headphones were where you left them, at the top of your bag, slipping your headphones around your neck but not starting any music yet. You had an appointment with a burger.

Three doors down from Roseville Books was The Original Canteen. Not that there had ever been any kind of canteen there beforehand, but their fries were decent and they did these sinfully thick milkshakes that made your straw stand straight up. Also one of their line cooks was your weed guy.

You were injured, it was therapeutic.

And luckily for you, there was a shared back alley behind the row of shops, meaning if you were willing to negotiate through the various line cooks, bus boys, and wait-staff who used it for their well deserved breaks, you could buy weed straight from work.

You saw who you thought was one of the dish pit guys, taking a smoke break in the lull between lunch and dinner rushes. Not that rushes ever stopped smoke breaks as far as you were aware.

“Hey there, is Chad in today?”

The guy regarded you for a long moment, letting out a puff of smoke before answering. “Yeah, he’s in the kitchen doing prep.”

“I’m a friend of his, would you mind asking him if he could make me that barbecue burger he does to go, and if he’s got the stuff in for that nice side salad?” The burger was real, and very good, but the salad thing was the dumbest code word, and you could tell by the guy’s face he thought so to, but Chad was the one who set it, so that’s what it was. It’s not like anyone was going to actually tell him, given that he was the weed guy for the entire kitchen staff as well.

“Yeah sure, lemme just go check,” the guy disappeared inside the kitchen, and you could hear vague yelling as you pulled up your headphones and leant against the alley wall to wait for your food.

Ten minutes passed and Chad came out of the kitchen, holding a styrofoam take out container and greeting you warmly. “Hey girl! Just can’t keep away from my cooking, huh?”

You let out a soft laugh, his swagger semi-deserved. “And all your other amazing qualities,” sarcasm dripped from your tongue and he looked mock offended, clutching a hand over his heart. “So, how much do I owe you?”

“Five for the burger, twenty five for the side salad,” he said with a wink, taking the thirty bucks you passed him, giving you the box in exchange.

Feeling the little plastic baggy underneath, you smiled at him. “Thanks Chad, have a good shift.”

“Always do!” he called out in reply, heading back into the kitchen as you headed out the alley, back onto the main streets. The bus ride home was as unremarkable as the ride into town, music helping the journey to pass quickly.

You closed and locked your front door behind you, leaning back against it as you let out a long breath. One more day survived. Of seemingly countless remaining. Maybe you should leave the door unlocked, maybe someone would come in and murder you. Wouldn’t that be nice?

You dropped your bag on the little coffee table in front of your couch, putting your freshly acquired baggy of weed next to your gear box, and the burger box on the couch as you perched on the arm of it to take off your boots. Time to pick some music, roll a joint; and fucking relax. Then find something shitty to watch on tv, pass out on the couch; and just go about existing.

Standing after kicking your boots off, you went over to your vinyl, running your fingers slowly over the titles as you considered them for a moment. You could’ve sworn you’d put them back in order yesterday, but obviously you hadn’t. Well obviously, you were trying to tell yourself something, so you took Facelift by Alice in Chains from its odd spot and set that playing. The guitars of We Die Young started to blare through your home, how you wished that was true.

Back to the couch, you rolled a joint quickly and headed out the backdoor to your yard, burger box and lighter in your other hand. You sank down in your chair, kicked your feet out in front of you and closed your eyes for a few moments. Okay, burger on the side table, time to get stoned as fuck.

You spent a few minutes just smoking, holding the smoke in your lungs until the burn got uncomfortable; exhaling slowly and watching it curl into the air. You already felt more mellow, which was good, you thought this might have been a two joint day, which you couldn’t afford to do very often. You propped the blunt on the edges of your ashtray, and finally started in on the precious burger. It was still warm, but had had long enough for the cheese to get properly gooey, sticking everything together. Perfection.

It was kinda nice, sitting there with the mellow buzz crackling inside as you sated your hunger. Was this what being alive was meant to actually feel like? And how fucked were you that it took getting stabbed to actually give you an appetite? Not that it was going to last, it never did for more than a couple of days before you went back to just living on coffee and instant ramen. You’d learnt the hard way it was easier not to keep in anything that could perish just on the off chance you actually felt like eating.

Halfway through the burger you put it down, taking another drag off the joint before heading back inside quickly for a glass of water. Stupid body needing liquids to not choke. You let out a cloud of smoke as you came outside, followed by a couple of coughs. Okay, maybe a small mistake to hold it for that long whilst trying to actually do things as well. Yeah, well the music was good, the food was good, and the weed was good; of course you had to fuck it up a little.

Side A of the album finished about the same time as the food, one last puff on the joint before stubbing out the roach. Time to switch to side B. You left the back door open, letting the woods call to you still as you flipped the disc. Not that disappearing into the woods would actually do anything for you other than get you cold and lost. But it was a kinda romantic thought to daydream about.

Heading to the couch you slowly lay yourself down on it, mindful of your stitches, staring up at the ceiling and letting the music just wash over you for a bit. Just letting the thoughts flow out of your head, a little bit of nothingness for a while.

Maybe this was what being dead was like.

---

Your phone rang, and you let out a groan. Fuck, when did it get dark? The stereo was just playing the soft hiss of the needle looping around the empty last track. Damn, you really zoned out there.

Right, fuck, the phone. You really just wanted to let it ring out, you normally did. But Jed had said he’d call you if he needed to check in with anything; and he’d been nice enough that you’d feel a little bad letting him go to the answer machine. And you needed to thank him for the whole anonymous thing. Ah fuck.

Hefting yourself upright, ow ow fucking ow, gotta move gently still had a stab wound, you let out a few curses as you stumbled over to the phone. Picking up, and proud that your voice only sounded a little strained, you managed a “Hello?”

Silence for a beat.

A breath.

Then that voice that had been haunting your thoughts and dreams.

“So, what’s your favourite scary movie?”

[eva-knits12]

Going To Costco with Jake Jensen

It's that time of the month!

It's time for you and Jake to go to Costco.

You get there early to do the cans and bottles,

Jake grabs the SUV sized cart.

You made the list.

Jake, when left to his own devices, will NEVER make a list.

Which is why he spends more money that he intends to.

You show your membership card to the greeter.

First thing's first.

Jake has to look at every computer, every tablet, every phone, and every TV.

Then, Jake sees a few old-school arcade games.

Of course, Jake has to look at every one.

It takes longer than you intended because Jake has to touch and look at every electronic and device.

Eventually, you and Jake make your way to the toilet paper.

But you get a two pack of sweatpants and a two pack of T-shirt.

You basically live in sweats when you're home.

Which Jake finds incredibly sexy and cute.

You go to the bakery section, and get muffins, carrot and chocolate cupcakes.

You and Jake get the toilet paper, the bottled water, and the seltzer water.

You and Jake also get frozen pizza, gluten free chicken nuggets (those are GOOD!), fish sticks, and you even get fruit and veggies.

You get the Cherry Barbecue chips, and you get two bags because they don't last too long between the both of you.

(If you haven't had these, try them. They're good, and they're Michigan made! I'm a Michigander, and I love these things. Cherry barbecue sauce is tasty if you do it right.)

You get granola bars, some chocolate chip cookies, oatmeal bites, even bread, and breakfast bites to have as a mid-morning snack.

You even make sure to get plenty of kibble, wet food, and doggy toys and doggy treats for Mario.

You also get a huge thing of both plain and peanut M & M's, cheese and caramel popcorn (Chicago or Detroit popcorn, depending on which city you are in-I just call it cheese and caramel corn), and Sander's sea salt caramels (another good thing, trust me a jar doesn't last too long in the house, because we ALL eat it, no matter how hard we resist).

You get coffee and vitamins, with a huge pack of Coke and Pepsi for Jake.

Jake pays for the purchase, and you go to the food court and get you and Jake a slice of pizza and some vanilla soft serve.

You put the pizza and soft serve in a box.

You and Jake arrive home, and you put the lunch in the kitchen.

You put the soft serve in the freezer.

You and Jake unload the car.

After you and Jake put everything away, you both change into your sweats, and you even wear one of Jakes really big graphic tees, with on of his hoodies over it.

Jake is in his sweats, graphic tees, and hoodie.

You and Jake have been together for two years, living together for one, so you two dress alike, even though you and Jake both work from home.

Jake literally pretends to be annoyed by it, but he finds this incredibly sexy deep down.

You both eat your pizza.

You grab two bottles of water, and you put some lemonade mix in it.

You both have lemonade.

You then eat your dessert.

After, you two try to watch a movie, but you both fall asleep on the couch.

Jake grabs a blanket, and he covers you both with a blanket.

You both sleep for the rest of the afternoon, and you order Chinese for dinner.

Because screw it, you're both WAY too lazy to cook tonight.

You read your book after you're done, and Jake plays a video game for a bit.

Eventually, you two fall asleep in bed later that night, but after you two have some adult fun time activities.

That's to help burn off lunch and dinner.

You and Jake wouldn't trade this for the world.

[direwombat]

Crime boss au for sybeli 👀

ahhhhh thank you gen this was such a fun little exploration of the quasi formed "mobster syb" au i have floating in my brain. eli strikes me as too much of a hermit to be an effective mob boss, but in an au where syb gets involved in organized crime to pay off her daddy's gambling debts...well...i think she'd be able to run hope county from the shadows :)

also lmao whoops this ended up being almost 2k (but then again, as i always say...anything under 5k is "short" for me).

[SEND ME A PAIRNG + AN AU SETTING]

The great part about living in Middle-of-Nowhere, Montana, Eli finds, is that there usually isn’t a soul around for miles. 

The bad part about living in Middle-of-Nowhere, Montana, is that when an uninvited soul does come knocking, there isn’t anyone around to help.

He’d been disarmed of his rifle so swiftly that he didn’t even notice the other man circling behind him to throw a burlap sack over his head. His hands were forced behind his back, the zip ties quickly snapped into place around them, and he’d been shoved into the backseat of a vehicle. 

Blind as he is, he has no idea where they’re going, and he knew better than to ask. The kind of people who kidnap a man from his home aren’t the kind to answer his questions. He sits silently, shifting his weight uncomfortably, desperately trying to keep his hands from going numb under his weight. His jaw is clenched and his ears strain for any familiar sounds that might give him a clue of where they’re taking him. 

The purring of the engine. Soft chatter, some of it in a language he doesn’t understand but thinks might be French. The crunching of gravel as they trundle along the dirt roads of the Whitetails. 

And then traffic. 

Traffic. Other cars around them. Civilization. Town. 

They have to be heading towards Falls End. He hasn’t been sitting long enough for it to be anywhere else. 

He guesses it’s about twenty minutes later that the vehicle pulls to a stop and the driver cuts the engine. The second he’s pulled from his seat, Eli is hit with the stench of beer, stale cigarettes, and deep fried food, and while muffled, the distinct sound of classic rock blares from a jukebox nearby. A heavy hand shoves between his shoulder blades and he stumbles forward. Every step he takes is hesitant, fearful he’ll walk himself straight into a goddamn wall.

But his handlers guide him with gruff instructions. “Keep going straight,” and, “face right,” and “stop.” A door creaks open and the overwhelming sounds and smells only get stronger as he’s ushered inside what he assumes is likely the Spread Eagle. The sack is pulled from his head, hair lifting in a staticy mess. 

It doesn’t take long for his eyes to adjust. The bar itself is dimly lit and the halls behind it, just past the restrooms and kitchen, are even moreso. A single lightbulb flickers unsteadily overhead and he’s guided once more towards another door. He’d only ever been back here a handful of times -- back when Casey had been kind enough to let him store the game he caught in the restaurant freezers, before he built his own -- and had simply assumed this particular door was to the Fairgrave's office, where they kept their books and receipts. 

But as one man pushes the door open, it isn’t any of the Fairgraves he sees occupying the space. 

Instead, there stands a woman he’s never seen before. A woman with short, dark hair, dressed in a crisp white button up and black pinstripe vest and slacks. Garters wrap around her biceps and her cuffs are rolled up to her elbows -- not that it prevented blood from flecking and spattering onto it. She leans against a heavy mahogany desk in the center of the room, smoking a cigar and filling the room with clouds of smoke. Her hands are bruised and still adorned with brass knuckles while jazz plays quietly from a record player off in the corner. 

The room itself is warm, almost cozy -- styled like an antique library. Dark wood bookshelves line the walls. Heavy curtains, deep red in color, are drawn over the window, blotting out the light, or, more accurately, preventing anyone from seeing what’s transpiring inside. The space is adorned with antique, velvet clawfoot couches and chairs, and at the center stands a heavy mahogany desk. A plush carpet covers the hardwood floors, and laying on that carpet is a man whose face has been reduced to paste. 

Eli’s blood goes cold and he swallows thickly. He feels like he just walked back in time or stepped foot on the set of a film about 1920s gangsters. 

The woman’s gaze flicks over them before settling on one of the men standing behind him. “Clean that up, would’ya?” she says, less of a request and more an order. Then, she looks to Eli and tilts her head towards one of the chairs. “You. Sit.”  He freezes for a moment, deer in headlights, and it isn’t until she shoots him a glare that clearly says Don’t make me repeat myself that he shuffles forward and takes a seat. 

The other two men grip the unconscious body by his arms and legs before dragging him off, leaving a red smear across the hardwood floor. 

The door then shuts with a damning click, and the woman’s attention is solely on him.

“Little birdie tells me you know how to build things where they ain’t supposed to go,” she says, gingerly letting her brass knuckles slide off her hands. She tucks them in her pocket. “That true?” 

He swallows thickly. The bunkers he’s built for himself and a few others are violating zoning laws and he maybe bribed a friend in Falls End to help him get permits regardless. Are the structures technically illegal? Yeah, but it isn’t like he’s hurting anyone with them. “Who’s asking?”

“Someone who’s willin’ to pay you a lot of money for comparatively little work,” she says evenly. 

Alarms, sirens, and all other manner of warnings go off inside Eli’s mind. Getting involved with a woman like this one can only spell bad news for him. It’s never just one job for people like her. “I’m good,” he grits from between clenched teeth. 

Her brows lift in surprise. “Are ya now? ‘Cause that ain’t what I’m hearin’.” She grins. Smugly. Knowingly. Cruelly. “Those alimony and child support checks are a real bitch, ain’t they?”

Eli’s jaw clenches even tighter, the vein at his temple throbbing in anger. Not only does she know about his finances, she also knows about his ex-wife and kid. “What do you want?”

“I want you to do a job, Mr. Palmer.” 

“And if I say no?”

“Don’t see why you would,” she shrugs. “Like I said before, you’ll be handsomely compensated. But, I s’pose if you really ain’t wantin’ to play ball, maybe I let my good friends over at the sheriff’s department know that one of your bunkers is storin’ a helluva lotta oxy. Hell, maybe all of ‘em are.” 

Something in her smile shifts at the threat -- her expression hardens to stone and the teasing glimmer in her eyes fades. She isn’t fucking around. He believes she can and would frame him for drug crimes. But then a question scratches at the back of his mind. Is one of the bunkers he built being used to store drugs? He’s not proud of how his voice shakes. “This is extortion,” he says, as if the moral judgment behind it means anything to her.

She barks a laugh and it's one of pure, and utter amusement. “Of course not Mr. Palmer. This is just blackmail. I’m askin’ ya nicely.” She tilts her head to the side, drinking in the sight of him tied in front of her. She then quirks a brow. “Whether or not it turns into extortion is entirely up to you.” Her gaze then slowly rakes over his body appreciatively and Eli barely suppresses a shudder. “Though I must confess, it’d be a shame to do anything to that face of yours.” She regards him, considering. “How do you feel about your kneecaps?”

“I like’em as they are,” he says hoarsely

She hums and nods. “So you understand what I’m askin’ of ya, then.” 

Fuck him. Either he says no and ends up in the hospital or worse, in prison, or he says yes and ends up in the employ of someone who definitely isn’t on the right side of the law. And while the thought of affiliating himself with someone so casual about violence makes his skin crawl, at least the latter option means that his kid is still taken care of. 

Slowly, he nods. “Think so.” 

“Glad we could come to an agreement,” she smiles, as if she hadn’t coerced and threatened him into it. Setting her cigar down and pulling a butterfly knife from her other pocket, she circles behind him and cuts the zip-tie binding his wrists together. “You’ll get half your payment up front along with detailed instructions of what it is I want you to build. You’ll receive the rest upon completion. Understood?” 

Eli rubs at the chafed skin around his wrists. “Yes ma’am.”

“Good.” She goes to sit at her desk and she takes another puff from her cigar. “Now, you strike me as a smart man, so consider this a courtesy rather than a warnin’: don’t go gettin’ any stupid ideas. You take that down payment and run, and I promise you, y’ain’t gonna make it very far. See, I got a hound who takes his job very seriously and he’s been beggin’ for me to take him huntin’. I’d hate to see you end up between his teeth. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes ma’am.” 

“Good,” she says, already moving on to the stack of files piled on her desk. “Someone will contact you within the week.” There’s a beat of silence where Eli remains where he is, unsure if he’s been dismissed and too afraid to assume. She glances up at him after a moment and says, “The hell’re you still doin’ here.” Her jaw juts out to motion to the door. “Get.” 

With a nod, Eli hastily rises and shuffles to the door. He takes one last hesitant glance over his shoulder only to find the woman engrossed in whatever she’s reading. Quietly, he opens the door and shuts it behind him. He half expects the two men from before to throw a bag over his head again and drive him back to his cabin, but the hallway is empty. 

Exhaustion hits him like a ton of bricks and the siren song of booze and greasy bar food calls his name. He shuffles out into the bar, ducking and weaving between drunk patrons and wearily slides onto a barstool. “Whiskey, on the rocks,” he says when Mary May stops by to take his order. She pours him a glass and he spends the next hour or so nursing it before knocking the rest of it back in a single go. 

When he places the cash down on the bartop to pay, Mary May shakes her head. “You’re drinking on the Boss Lady’s tab tonight.” 

He blinks in shock. “That so?” he says slowly. Well, in that case, he might as well order something nice. “What’s her favorite?”

The corners of Mary May’s lips quirk into a smile and she pulls a laminated cocktail menu from underneath the bartop. Placing it down in front of him, there’s a drink called ‘Sazerac de La Roux’. Cognac, absinthe, a sugar cube, and two dashes of Peychaud’s Bitters.  

Eli considers for a moment, and then says, “I’ll take one of those.” 

[cursedbanalities]

✨Zechariah 14:12-13 Chapter 2✨

<- Prev. Chapter | Index

“Yo, what’s Ethan’s problem?” Mason asks, walking to the back of Eugene’s Pizza to help Hunter finish closing.

“The man got bit on his last delivery.” Hunter says looking over his shoulder as he leans over the dish sink— there’s still a few dishes left, a couple of pizza cutters and a few lids from the deep dish pans. “Whatever it is he did, I don’t blame him.”

“Fuck, for real?” Mason asks, cocking his head and furrowing his brow. “I mean… that’s fair then I guess. He have to shit too or something?”

“I don’t know, probably. I’m sure he’s just ready to go home. By the way, we got mostly everything done. We just have to finish up these dishes and mop,” Hunter sighs, ready for this shift to be over.

Mason nods, giving Hunter a quick smirk and a thumbs up. Hunter returns the thumbs up and scrubs at the lids and slicers, spraying them down and dunking them into sanitizing water. As he drains out the sink, Mason starts to mop. He goes around the store, mopping the walk-in freezer, the areas around the dish sink and metallic tables, and by the phones that take deliveries. Ethan stays in the bathroom the whole time, prompting Hunter to say something to Johnny as he gives him his money for the day- a whopping three order’s worth of cash, and $13 in tips.

“Well, I’ve had the same kinda issue.” Johnny says to him as he counts Hunter’s money. “Y’know, I’ve been tryin’ ta reach my wife and kids all night. Just, ghosted. I figured I did somethin’ to make my wife mad at the very least, but she hasn’t even opened my texts! They just say ‘sent.’”

“Oof, man. I hope she isn’t mad or anything.” Hunter says. “But, what’s that got to do with Ethan “shittin’” his brains out up there?”

“Man, I dunno.” Johnny says, slightly exasperated. “He’s prolly jus’ mad ‘cause I made him stay here later y’know?” He finishes counting the cash, and gives Hunter his measly amount in tips.

“Thanks,” Hunter says sarcastically. He turns and starts to walk away as Johnny pulls out his phone.

“What the fuck?” Johnny mutters, just loud enough for Hunter to hear. He turns around with a “hm?” and Johnny shows him his phone screen. The last text he sent, just before he gave Hunter his tips, was grayed out with a “not delivered” just below it.

“Well at least you know she isn’t ignoring you? Hunter speculated.Johnny shook his head.

“Well, that might’ve been the case if I had any service, which I obviously must’a just lost. I was lookin’ somethin’ up just a second ago.”

Hunter pulls out his phone and turns it on. Same thing, zero bars. Andy and Cameron, who were on the other side of the kitchen talking about something else, happened to hear Johnny and checked their phones too.

Same thing.

Cameron even confirmed it by trying to look something up in his browser, with the only thing popping up being a notice for no wi-fi.

“Well, shit. I know I paid my phone bill at least,” Cameron said. “But if the network is down, wouldn’t they send out a message telling us about why it’s down or something? I’m surprised they haven’t yet.”

“Maybe they jus’ haven’ noticed it?” Johnny asks. “Whatever. Maybe the news’ll have somethin’ to say about it.” He walks out to the lobby, grabbing a tv remote from under the cash register, and turning the lobby tv on. While he did that, Mason walked into the kitchen, and told Hunter that he’s gonna kick Ethan out of that bathroom whether he’s done in there or not. Hunter gives him a shrug, so Mason grabs the mop bucket and rolls it up the inclined hallway towards the backroom.

Hunter walks out into the lobby to see what was happening on the TV. Johnny, Cameron, and Andy were staring at the TV with their arms crossed or hands on their hips. The news was talking about the viral infection coming out of Singapore.

“Well, nothing about cell phone outages,” Johnny mutters. “That infection shit is pretty fuckin’ scary though.”

“Eh, I mean. Covid wasn’t THAT bad.” Andy shrugs. “I never got it. How bad could this really be?”

The TV goes black, and a series of deep siren-sounding beeps comes out of it.

…EEEEH…

….EEEEH…

…EEEEH…

EMERGENCY ALERT SYSTEM

EAN SYSTEM

ISSUED AN

EMERGENCY ACTION NOTIFICATION

A computer-generated voice of a man comes over the tv speakers:

“We interrupt this program as this is a national emergency. Important instructions will follow. This is not a test. A severe viral infection has been located in several cities in the United States, overwhelming medical officials and the United States Military. The cities include: New York, Baltimore, Miami, Detroit, Las Vegas, Los Angeles, Seattle, and Washington D.C.

“This viral infection has outpaced protective measures put into place by the Center for Disease Control. Citizens living within these cities are recommended to seek immediate shelter. Citizens who do not live in these cities are asked to return to their homes and lock the doors. Do not open them unless the all-clear has been given. Tune in to a local station to listen. Ensure that you have water, food, and a flashlight.”

Text on the screen changes:

Remember:

- ENSURE YOU HAVE FOOD AND WATER FOR (1) WEEK AT LEAST

- LOCK YOUR DOORS

- DO NOT LEAVE YOUR PREMISES

- IF YOU OR A FAMILY MEMBER HAS BEEN INFECTED IN THE LAST HOUR (VIA BITE OR CONTACT WITH INFECTED BODILY FLUIDS): SEPARATE AND QUARANTINE.

The voice continues:

“The CDC has reported that the infection travels via the bloodstream through contact with the infected victim’s blood, and is often transmitted through a bite from an infected person. Avoid all contact with persons who may have been bitten. The United States Government has authorized civilians to take up arms to defend their life, and property. This message will repeat.”

…EEEEH…

….EEEEH…

…EEEEH…

Hunter, Johnny, Andy, and Cameron all look at each other, their eyes wide and mouths agape, as they hear Mason scream from the storage room.

They run into the kitchen. Mason sprints down the hallway from the supply room. Ethan’s hot on his tail, crashing into a wall as they round the corner. He launches himself at Mason and connects, bringing both of them to the ground. Mason wrestles with him, trying to keep him off as strands of red spit drip from his mouth and onto Mason’s face. Hunter and Johnny both run over to them, but Hunter gets there first. He grabs Ethan, putting him into a bear hug and pulling him off, inadvertently pointing him at the rest of the group. Ethan squirms in his arms, violently shaking his shoulders, before digging his nails into Hunter’s forearms and breaking free. Ethan flails his arms, and charges towards the first person he sees— Johnny. He grabs the wide man, sinking his nails into Johnny’s arms and shoulders as he tries to wrestle him to the ground. Johnny struggles to defend himself, and Ethan gnashes his teeth at him. He yelps as Ethan bites and scratches at him, leaving scratch marks on his face and neck.

“C’mon Ethan!” he yells, “Get the fuck off of me!” Johnny starts to lose strength as Ethan relentlessly fights to bite a chunk out of him.

Hunter freezes with fear. All he can do is watch as his friend clacks his teeth, trying to rip out his manager’s throat. He snaps out of it when he sees Cameron pat his lower back, just above his waistline. He pulls up his shirt, revealing a semi-automatic pistol with a wooden grip and polished silver finish. He pulls it out, cocks the slide back, and points it at the side of Ethan’s head. Hunter and Andy both jump when they see the gun, and Hunter reflexively ducks when Cameron points it at Ethan.

“YOU BROUGHT YOUR FUCKING GUN?” he lets out, causing Ethan to look at him just as Cameron pulls the trigger, shooting the back of Ethan’s head.

Hunter flinches as Ethan’s forehead explodes, leaving a large crater behind and spraying Mason and Johnny with blood. Hunter’s ears ring, and he feels the bile rise in his throat. Everything’s spinning, and he starts hyperventilating. He backs up until he hits a wall and clutches at his chest. He looks down at Ethan’s body. His arm is mangled, with deep scratches and bite marks covering his right arm and hand. It looked like he had been chewing on himself— chunks of missing flesh went right down to the bone. His teeth were a bloody red, and blood pours out of his nose, mouth, and the gaping hole in his head.

He sees Andy yelling at Cameron, trying to grab the gun out of his hand, but Cameron pushes him away. Andy’s screams are muffled since Hunter’s ears are still ringing, but after a few seconds it starts to dissipate. His heart is still pounding. He fully regains his hearing while Andy is still yelling at Cameron.

“-ou fucking crazy?” Andy screams at him. “Dude, what if there was a cure or something? You just murdered Ethan!”

“How do you know if there’s a cure? Haven’t you ever seen a zombie movie? There’s never a cure!” Cameron fires back.

“How the hell do you know that? Even then, rule number one about zombie movies is to NEVER shoot your fucking gun! For all you know, you just brought them all here!”

Mason shakily stands up, trying to avoid looking at the growing pool of blood seeping out of Ethan. He takes a few steps back, and starts to stutter something. He points at Johnny, eyes wide, who’s clutching at his forearm. His hand is soaking in blood. Hunter’s eyes widened.

“T-take your hand off.” Hunter stutters, still shaken up from the gunfire. Andy and Cameron whip around, as though forgetting there were other people with them. Johnny shakes his head.

“Yo, don’t play with me man,” Cameron says, pointing the gun at him. Andy tries to tell him to put the gun down, but puts his hands up after Cameron points it at him. “Back up! Show me your arm!” Johnny shakily removes his hand, showing the wound: two large curved lines nearly touch, creating an oval on his forearm. Hunter gasps, Mason and Andy let out an exasperated groan when they see the bite, and Cameron’s eyes start welling up.

“Please, PLEASE, man!” Johnny pleads, “I gotta get back to my wife and kids!”

“How the fuck are you going to get back to your family if you’re bitten? Do you want to kill them?” Cameron shouts at him, putting his finger on the trigger. “I’m sorry man, but we can’t take that risk!” Johnny starts to cry.

“Dude, will you chill out a second? We can figure something out!” Andy exclaims. “Your first thought shouldn’t be to just fucking kill him!”

Hunter speaks up, “Look, we don’t know how long this thing will last. Couldn’t we at least give him the benefit of the doubt? Hell, Ethan lasted at least an hour before turning.” Cameron gives him a glare, but Mason disagrees.

“Didn’t you see how Ethan almost got us? Imagine if Johnny was able to move like that! Could you imagine trying to wrestle him off of you? We wouldn’t stand a chance!”

“No, please! I can just go and lock myself in the bathroom or-”

“I don’t have any choice, man!”

“Cameron, just do it!”

“What are you fucking nuts? Just make him quarantine! We can-”

A figure walks by the window, illuminated by the fluorescent lights of Eugene’s Pizza. Everybody in the store to go silent. It stops, and walks towards the window. A man, with bloody teeth and a large chunk missing from his shoulder, walks towards the window, and starts awkwardly pounding at it. The glass bends and shakes with every impact. In the distance, the group can see more figures walking towards Eugene’s.

“Holy shit,” Andy mutters, sprinting to the lobby to lock the double push doors. He runs back to the kitchen. His eyes are wide with fright, but he takes a deep breath to steady himself.

“O-okay, listen. We have to get this place barricaded. Hunter, get those tables from the back and put them in front of those doors, I’ll help you. Mason, you gotta find some weapons. Maybe try sharpening the pizza cutters, or find something to make a spear with the brooms and knives we have.” Hunter and Mason nod. Andy turns to Cameron, “Please. We have to deal with this before we deal with Johnny. We’ll just lock him in the freezer. Is that okay, man? Are you going to put the gun down?”

Cameron keeps pointing the gun at Johnny, whose eyes are red and filled with tears. His hand starts to shake as he white-knuckles the gun. The thumping at the window grows as more people with bloody teeth start smacking at the windows. Cameron’s face turns to stone, and he shakes his head. “No. I-I’m sorry.”

Johnny screams, before being cut off with the flash of the gun’s muzzle and an explosion. He falls over, the wall behind him painted red. Andy screams, Hunter and Mason both jump from the sound and look away.

“You fucking asshole!” Andy yells, punching Cameron in the jaw. Cameron takes it, and stumbles back, but he looks like he didn’t feel it. He’s still in shock, staring at the two dead bodies of his coworkers- both dead by his hand. The infected outside of the store start screaming, throwing themselves at the window. There's at least a dozen of them. “You have to get those bodies out of here. NOW.” Andy commands, pointing at Johnny and Ethan.

Cameron doesn’t look like he heard Andy, so Andy yanked the gun out of his hand and slapped him— not hard, just enough to snap him back to reality.

“Take care of their fucking bodies. You killed them, after all.” Andy said, cold as ice.

Cameron opens his mouth to speak, but silently relents. After putting a couple pairs of nitrile gloves, he walks over to their bodies and starts dragging them out the back door, leaving a trail of slick scarlet in their wake. He gags while he does it, but manages to roll them out of the way.

Hunter and Mason look at each other. Despite their disagreement, they know that fighting amongst themselves would only kill them— not like they have much of a chance at living, anyways. The screams of the infected are only getting louder. It feels like the group outside is only getting larger.

Hunter gives Mason a thumbs up. Mason returns it, and they get to work trying to save their lives.

[heyitsmetonid]

Lemons Into Lemonade

Word Count: ~1,800

Reading Time: ~7m

Warning: Foul language

Note: Based on one of @creativepromptsforwriting’s prompts. Prompt #74: I’d rather be alone right now.

         Today was the roughest day of my life. Well, maybe not the roughest. I’m being a bit dramatic, I suppose, but it was pretty damn close. Nothing went right! I was on the struggle bus for much of the day. Yet, despite how my day started, it’s definitely not going to end badly now that he’s here.

         First, I kept forgetting things. I had to go back into the house three times after starting my car. Each time I buckled up, I would remember something.

         “Shit! My lunch!” I retrieved it and got back into the car. “My umbrella!” Once again, I went inside the house to recover the missing item and returned to the car. “Oh boy! I left my keys in the house. Can’t leave without those!” I got to the front door and found that the door was locked.

         I’m sure my neighbors were rudely awakened this morning when I screamed damn near at the top of my lungs, tugging the doorknob of my front door more so out of frustration than attempting to enter. I couldn’t believe I locked myself out of my own house. Just as I was about to give up, I remembered that one of my kitchen windows was unlocked. The one above the deep freezer. So, I made my way around the side of the house, opened the kitchen window, and hopped through it. Oh, the regret! I landed on a ladle, an empty soda can, and a fork, the prongs making contact with my left thigh. I hollered and rolled off the deep freezer and landed on a cardboard box I had ignored from last night because I was too lazy to toss it out.

         “Son of a bitch! I need to clean this kitchen!” I said, outstretched on the floor.

         I allowed a few minutes to get myself together and stood up to make my way to the front of the house. As I approached the front door, I saw that my keys were in the door's lock.

         “How in the fuck did I manage that?” I asked aloud.

         I grabbed my keys and locked the door from the outside. I finally got into the car and drove about a block from my house, only to discover that my front driver’s side tire was flat. Carefully, I went back to my house and parked. Instead of calling AAA or my insurance company to address the tire, I summoned an Uber and headed to work. I just couldn’t be bothered with it at the moment.

         Work wasn’t much better. My manager added her workload to mine because she "overbooked" herself. I called bullshit and argued with her, but it didn’t work. I ended up staying two hours past my shift.

When I left, it was pouring rain, so I attempted to use my umbrella to shield myself from the rain. However, the wind had other plans and whisked it several feet away from me, causing me to chase the umbrella around the parking lot as my Uber driver waited for me. Once I got into the car, I was soaked and felt the need to apologize to the driver for ruining his backseat for the following passengers.

         Today was terrible, and all I wanted to do now was relax and drink some wine. On my way home, I texted my friend and told her about my day. She told me she had a bottle of Merlot and wanted to know if I wanted some company. I said no. Honestly, after the day I’ve had, I’d rather be alone right now.

         I hiked upstairs to my room, stripped myself naked to dry myself off, and put on fresh, comfy clothes. A pair of well-worn sweatpants and my old, oversized university T-shirt. I moseyed downstairs and headed straight for the wine bar when I heard the doorbell.

         “Who – did she decide to come anyway?” I wonder with a tight-lipped smile.

         I peek through the peephole to find someone else in a blue raincoat standing at my door.

         “Woo? Hi,” I greet my neighbor.

         Woo Chung Ae is the handsome man who lives directly across the street from me. He’s tall and lean, has pretty brown eyes, and is the gentlest soul I’ve ever met. Truth be told, I secretly lusted for this man. However, I did my best never to flirt because I didn’t want to jeopardize our neighborly bond or make him uncomfortable.

         “Hi, Samantha,” he responds. “I saw you getting out of an Uber and your flat tire and wanted to make sure you were okay. Do you need anything?”

         “Oh, you are so sweet!” I tuck my coily hair behind my ear. “I don’t need anything but thank you. I’m just glad to be home after …” I faltered because I didn’t want to burden him with my tale of horrific events, “… it’s good to be home. Besides, it’s rainy.” I point behind him as if he didn’t just walk across the street through the rain to get to my front door.

         There was a moment of silence between us. Woo always gave me his undivided attention, so I should have known he’d also be very observant and insightful. During this moment, I noticed him unashamedly scanning my body from head to toe, undoubtedly taking in my less-than-perfect but cozy appearance. The heat that spread through my cheeks could probably be seen from outer space!

         “Are you sure?” he questions. “Truly, I don’t mind. It seems like you haven’t had the best day, and you probably need to get your spare on, at the very least, so that you can drive to a nearby shop to replace the tire.” He gives me another once over and says, “Even if you don’t replace the tire today, tomorrow, when you are ready, all you have to do is get in the car and go to the nearest shop.”

         His endearing eagerness chipped away at me. Who am I to turn down my hot neighbor when I’m in need?

         “You know what?” I nod and can't help but smile. "Yes, I could use a little help. Do you know how to change a tire?”

         Woo smiles. My heart stops.

         “Yes, I do,” he answers. “I’ve changed many tires in my lifetime, unfortunately. I just need to grab my tools, and I’ll be right back. It won’t take me long.”

         “Okay. Oh, wait!” I walked over to the wall key holder and grabbed my keys. “You’ll need the car key.”

         “Thank you,” he says as I place my keys in his hands. “Ten minutes tops. Promise!”

         “Okay! Thank you, Woo!”

         I smile and watch him make his way from my front porch to the street to his house. After he disappears inside his home, I close the door and go to the wine bar. I immediately go for the 2020 Jam Jar Shiraz and crack it open, then pour a generous amount into my wine glass. I swirl the dark red goodness around in the glass before I sniff it.

         “Mm! Sweet!” and take a swig. The wine is so delightful. With a bottle in one hand and the wine glass in the other, I make my way to the sofa and flip through the channels on the TV until I find an animal documentary.

         Ten minutes go by, and I hear the doorbell ring again.

         Impressive, if that’s him.

         I peek through the peephole for the second time today, and sure enough, it is Woo.

         “Hey, you! You’re done already? That’s impressive!”

         I step out onto the porch and look toward my car. My spare tire is on, but I don’t see the damaged one anywhere, so I scan the area.

         “It’s in the trunk,” Woo states.

         “I’m sorry?”

         “The busted tire, it’s in the trunk.”

         “Ah!” Seems he can read my mind.

         The biggest smile spreads across his face. “You thought I’d leave it for you to struggle with later?” He chuckles and shakes his head. “I’d like to think I am a gentleman, so I strive to be thorough and thoughtful.”

         “Yes, and you’ve definitely proved that today. Thank you so much!”

         “It’s no problem at all. I wanted to help.” He smirks and looks me in the eye. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

         “Really?” slips out of my mouth, and I cringe internally to avoid further awkwardness.

"Mm hm," he says, nodding.

         This man is so genuine and kind. He made me feel as if he really cared about me. I decided that I didn’t want him to go just yet. He opens his mouth to speak, but I beat him to the punch.

         “Please come inside and have a drink with me. Have you eaten? I am going to order something from Mama J’s for dinner tonight. They’ve got the best soul food in Richmond. It’s my treat.” I place my hand behind my back and cross my fingers.

         Now, I know I don’t have perfect vision, but it looks like Woo’s cheeks are starting to turn pink. Poor thing is so sweet and shy.

         “I – uh-“ he stumbles.

         “Pretty please. Let me thank you.”

         “I – I would love that,” he nods. “Thank you.”

         I grin from ear to ear as I walk into the house with Woo on my heels. I hang his raincoat up while he takes off his shoes. Then, I take him into the living room and gesture toward the sofa, letting him know he can make himself comfortable. We both have a seat, and I point to the bottle of wine and the TV.

         “I was watching this animal documentary and drinking some Shiraz. We don’t have to watch this if you don’t want to.” I reach for the remote.

         Woo holds a hand up to stop me. “It’s fine. I like animals.”

         “Oh, good. Also,” I reach a shaky hand for the wine bottle, “do you like Shiraz? I have other wines and some liquor. I’ve got whiskey, gin, some white wines, and other red wines.”

         He grins. “I’ve never had Shiraz before, but I’d like to try it.”

         Now, I’m standing in my messy kitchen in front of the wine bar, grabbing a wine glass for my fine-ass neighbor, who I’ve had less-than-pure thoughts about plenty of nights, sitting in my living room. My heart is racing, so I need a second to calm myself. Act natural, is what I keep telling myself, but who am I kidding? I typically have such a hard time hiding my feelings. Hopefully, he doesn’t read me like a book and run away. Maybe he’ll realize what’s up and feel the same way. I don't know, but there's only one way to find out.

Author’s Note: This isn’t the best, but I like the overall story. Besides, I need to get my confidence up and start really putting my writing out there. Anyways, thank you for taking the time to read this, and as always, comments, likes, and reblogs are welcome.

  Toni D

Dividers by @cafekitsune 💜🖤🩷

Visit my bookshelf to read more!

All Rights Reserved © Toni D 2024

No part of this written work may be reproduced in any form without permission from the author. Do not repost, translate, plagiarize or otherwise repurpose.

[cilldaracailin]

You’re My Best Friend

Hello my Tumblr Lovely’s,

This is the last part of this Robyn and Taron story. I am currently writing the next one and once, it’s finished I will post it :)

Thanks for all the love on this one.

Love Suze xx

16

“Is it possible for home to be a person and not a place?”

Taron let Robyn sleep and doze for a little while after the movie, one that he could not tell you the plot of because he knew he had been dozing himself, so cosy and warm as he lay on the couch and he would have continued to doze with her except his rumbling stomach woke her up. During the movie, she had turned a little to her side, her head lower on his body and he cringed as his stomach growled again.

“Does anything not satisfy you?” Robyn had been happily laying against him and after the fourth time his stomach made noise, she lifted her head from him moving so she could lean on his shoulder instead. “I mean you got a cooked breakfast which was more of a lunch and muffins.”

Taron’s body shook as he laughed. “I am a growing young boy.”

“So you keep telling me.” Robyn yawned, giving herself a half stretch. “What movie did you pick?”

“No idea.” Taron replied. “I didn’t even watch it.”

“No?”

“Nope.  Took a Taron nap too.”

They both laughed and Robyn reached for his left arm so she could check the time, her eyes widening as she looked at the hands on the clock. “Taron it is after seven!” Robyn exclaimed. “The whole day is gone.” Her face turned a little sad which Taron picked up on.

“Cariad, getting to nap with you on your couch in your home with no interruption is the best way I could think of to spend the day and I would stay here of the rest of evening except my stomach has other ideas, as always.”

Robyn gave him a gentle pat. “Well should we do something about that then?”

“Yeah muffins.”

Robyn sat up and gave herself another stretch. “No not muffins.”

“Cookies?” He knew the cushion was coming his way before it happened and was prepared to catch it as Robyn threw a blue one at him. “Ok not cookies.”

“Not cookies.” Robyn repeated, standing up. “But how about some soup and a toasted sandwich?” She reached out her hands to him and helped pull him to his feet.

“Sounds perfect.”

Walking into the kitchen, Robyn turned on some lights along the way, going to the freezer and taking out two bags of frozen soup, putting them on the counter. She loved to make homemade vegetable soup and always made extra so she could pop it in the freezer and have some whenever she wanted. It was so easy to re-heat it in the microwave and it tasted just the same as when it was made fresh in the pot.

“Can I do the toastie?” Taron asked as he watched Robyn get two bowls out.

“You wanna?”

“Sure. I can make a gourmet one.”

Giving a chuckle, Robyn nodded. “You know where everything is.”

Twenty minutes later, they sat down at the breakfast bar with a steaming bowl of vegetable soup and toastie filled with cheese, ham and chicken and a little salad on the side. The easy meal was comforting and enough to fill them both though Taron grinned when Robyn gave him a muffin and hot cup of tea afterwards.

“I thought you said no more muffins?” Taron asked pulling some crumbs from the top off to eat.

“You think I would not give you one?” She grinned. “And I said no to muffins for dinner. We had a very nice meal.” She reached over to take a piece from the top of the muffin. “This is dessert and I have a suggestion for you for after dessert.” She said after she ate it.

“A suggestion?” Taron asked.

“Yup.”

“Go on…”

“You could use that voucher you brought for running a bath.” Robyn explained slowly. “You brought it with you and while I know you will be back with me again, I don’t know when. I think tonight would be the perfect opportunity to use it. While you finish the tea, I can run it for you.”

“Robyn, you don’t have to do that for me.”

“I know I don’t have to but I know you and deep down inside, you were looking forward to it. You love those bubble jets and I can fill it with the nice muscle relaxer salts and bubbles.” She reached over and took his hand. “It is one of your vouchers and the deal with the vouchers was when you were given them, that when you give one to me, we use it.” She ran her thumb over the back of his hand and she then had a double think about what she had asked him. “If it is too soon then that is…”

Taron shook his head. “The bath isn’t enclosed and I mean if they are going to be bubbles.”

“I don’t want to push you.”

Her hand was squeezed tightly. “Not pushing at all.” He assured her.

Robyn let go of his hand and sat back on her stool, suddenly realising what she had asked Taron. “You know what, it was a stupid suggestion. What was I even thinking? I mean you have had two horrible experiences in a nine foot deep pool, why on earth would you want to sit in a bath which is basically a smaller version of a pool so just ignore the last two minutes of conversation and drink your tea and eat your muffin and then maybe we can find another movie we won’t watch.” She turned a little on her stool and waited for the ground to swallow her up, her inner self kicking her stupidity in asking Taron did he want to have a bath. She had no idea what she was doing asking him, especially when he had been in tears in her arms two days ago because he panicked in a pool of water. She muttered to herself under breath, giving herself a verbal beating. “Stupid.” She murmured, her eyes down.

“Cariad…” Two arms slipped around her waist, carefully turning her around and Taron brought her close against him. “I love you, you know that right?” He rubbed her back gently as he held her against him. As soon as Robyn had mentioned taking a bath, every part of him said yes. He had only been in her bath once and he remembered every minute of it and how amazing the water jets felt on his body which had been through hell. While this time around his hell had been in water, he had routed for his bath voucher, praying he would get the opportunity to use it and Robyn had offered it to him on a plate and there was no way that he was going to turn it down. His shower earlier had not been too bad, even though it had been quick and he knew inside getting back on the horse was the best way to move on but also it was a bath that he could lay in and feel the bottom of. “You have no idea how good a bath sounds right now, one with bubbles and jets and real bubbles too.” He gave her a squeeze. “With extra bubbles.” He brushed her cheek with a kiss and took a step back. “And I can always get out if I don’t feel comfortable and then I think we should snuggle deep under the duvet and sleep.”

“No Taron, let’s not worry about it. We can clean up here and just go back to the couch. It was a stupid idea and I don’t know what I was even thinking.”

“Robyn, stop.” Taron placed his hands on her cheeks, seeing the worry in her eyes. “Stop. I want the bath.” He said firmly. “It’s a wonderful idea and it will help to get the last of the cold from my body and little kinks that are still in my lower back.”

“Liar.” Robyn replied to him. “You are as warm as you have ever been and you have not felt a twinge since you got your back rub yesterday morning.”

“Yeah well, I still want the bath.” He answered back. “And I will never say no to something that gives me a back rub, even jets in a bath.”

“Taron, please, let’s just leave it.”

He shook his head. “Absolutely not. I never get to take a bath. Never anywhere. I don’t have one in Wales or London and I never even think of taking one when I am in a hotel because I am so busy and just drop onto the bed and sleep.”

“I don’t want you to relive anything from set.”

Taron smiled lovingly at her. “Are you going to let anything happen to me while I soak in the tub?” Robyn sighed and shook her head. “And if you hear anything out of the ordinary, will you come running to me as I sit in bubbles in my nudey nudes?” Her laugh was quiet but he heard it. “If you didn’t think it was good for me, you wouldn’t have suggested it in the first place because you have never ever done something for me that wasn’t in my best interest.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “And I wouldn’t be insisting if I didn’t feel comfortable and I want to use the voucher to have a bath Robyn and I can go and do it myself.”

Robyn let her head fall from his hands, her forehead resting on his chest under his chin, feeling him run his hands up and down her back. “You know I can’t resist those green eyes and deep Welsh tones.” She said quietly.

“Guess I will have to use them more often.” He chuckled. “But you know I cannot help that my eyes are green or that my accent has a hint of Welsh in it. That’s genetics.”

“Hmph.” Robyn grunted, lifting her head to look at him. “You feel the slightest bit off and you get out.”

“I will.”

“And don’t feel like you have to do this because you brought the voucher. I know I said it would be a while before you are back again, but you will be back so it can be used then.”

“I know.”

“And I can just rub your back if that’s what you want. You know I love doing that for you.”

Taron grinned at her. “I think I shall take that option tomorrow.” He laughed hard as she lightly pushed him away. “Robyn, the bath and bubbles sound amazing right now.”

“Fine but I am going to give you so many bubbles, they will still be there when the water is cold.”

“Sounds perfect.”

“And there will be a very feminine scent in the bath.”

“That’s ok.”

“And the bath water is more than likely going to turn pink.”

“That’s ok too.”

“And those bath salts have a scent too so you know they are all going to mix together and you are going to end up smelling like a very flowery bouquet of flowers.”

“I am just fine with that. I am only coming out for a cuddle with you afterwards.”

“And you can use stronger jets this time cos you are not completely battered and bruised but that might make even more bubbles and they will be everywhere in the bathroom and that will be a big mess to clean up.”

“Robyn…” Taron’s smiled at her ramblings. “Stop trying to find a way out of this and let’s get going. I need you to run this bath for me.”

She sighed but had already caved to his sparkling green eyes. “Yeah alright.” Taking his hand, they walked into the bathroom, Robyn turning on the lights as she went. Going to the press under the sink, she opened the door and took out a green packet. “You mind holding this?” She asked him.

“Thought I was going to smell like a bouquet of flowers.” He asked with a grin as he read the label, grinning more as she shrugged. “Juniper and thyme. Not so flowery. Did you threaten me with flowery scents but are not going to follow through with them?”

Robyn gave him a look over her shoulder and then turned her attention back to the bath and turning on the hot tap. “I could but I won’t.” She said to him. “I don’t want to be smelling flowers all night.”

It wasn’t a side of Robyn he saw very often but he adored it when she was annoyed or at least trying her hardest to be. He strolled over to her and crouching down beside her, gave her a sideways hug. “I promise you cariad, I would not be doing this if I truly and honestly didn’t want too and I know I will love every minute of this. I don’t get it very often.” He felt her lean into him and knew then that this was going to be the most amazing bath.

“Will you open the salts for me please?”

Taron opened the green bag and once Robyn had plugged the bath, the now steaming water filling the white tub, she took a handful of salt out and ran it under the tap so it melted away into the water, following with three more.

“You want to pick your own bubble bath and bath bomb?” She asked him standing up, taking his hand to help him up too.

“Can I?”

“Sure.” She chuckled. “Go and choose from the shelf behind you.”

While Robyn put the bag of salts back in the press, Taron had a look at the different bottles, bars and bombs she had for her bath. There were all types of scents and a basket filled with circular bath bombs and he tried to read each one and figure out what he wanted to use but knew he needed a female opinion. He turned around and saw Robyn leaning against the sink her arms crossed, her face grinning. “Perhaps you would like to come and help me?” He asked.

With a smile Robyn walked over to him and standing beside him picked a silver bottle and handed it to him. “Shea bubble bath. Not too feminine and will leave your skin very nice and soft afterwards but it also makes very good bubbles.” She then routed through her wicker basket of bath bombs and pulled out one wrapped in a brown paper with a blue sticker. “And this is a bath bomb called ocean. Not girly at all.”

“Not a flowery scent in sight.”

Robyn grinned. “Nope and I wouldn’t do that to you.” She unwrapped the bath bomb and handed it to him. “You wanna throw it in?”

“Ok.” Standing where he was, a few feet from the bath, Taron threw the bath bomb and it landed with a large plop and splash into the bath.

“Taron!”

“What?” He turned to her with a shrug. “You said throw it in.”

“I didn’t actually mean throw it in!” She laughed. She headed to the bath and looked in, watching as the bath bomb fizzed around, the white and blue of the ingredients melting into the water. “It goes with your bubble bath.” She explained to him. “Shea butter and sea salt.”

“I am gonna come out as soft as cwtch.” Taron chuckled. “But you know it’s the jets I am looking forward too.”

“I know that.” Robyn nodded. “And I know you know how to work them but you have to add something to the water too.”

“Like bubbles?” He asked holding out the silver bottle.

“Yes, bubbles. How many do you want?”

“Well you told me there would be so many bubbles, they would still be there when the water went cold, so that many.”

“Okie dokie.” Robyn took the bottle from him and sat on the edge of the bath near the taps. She looked to Taron and pointed a finger his way. “Do not push me in.” She grinned.

Taron smirked. “Do you think I would do that?”

“Oh absolutely.”

He laughed deeply. “I won’t I promise. It will ruin my bath. Another time sure, but not now.”

Robyn loved how bright his face was, how his smile filled every part of him and could tell he was happy and that was all she wanted for him. She turned her attention back to the taps and she slowly poured the white bubble bath through the cascading hot water from the tap, bubbles immediately forming and flowing down and across the bath. She kept pouring and pouring until the top of the water was covered, continuing to pour more of the white silky mixture in.

“Robyn, I think you have enough now.”

“For a bubble bath, you need more bubbles than you think you need.” She tipped the bottle a little more and once another generous amount slid into the water, she held it upright and replaced the cap. A gorgeous smell filled the bathroom along with a steam from the heat from the water and Robyn wished the bath was for her but Taron needed it more plus he was the lucky one who was given a book of vouchers to use. Getting to her feet she put the bottle on the shelf and then back at the bath, knelt down and swirled her hand through the water, helping to mix more bubbles.

“I don’t think I am getting out of this.” Taron crouched down beside her. “You know how to run a good bath.”

“All you need now are some candles, music, and a face mask.”

Taron looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “I know you can provide all three.” He grinned.

“You want?” She asked.

“Well, I won’t say no.”

On her feet, Robyn walked into her wardrobe and took two candles from the shelf she stored them on. She grabbed the box of matches and carried them into the bathroom. “Following on from the theme, not flowery.” She lit the candles and left them on the sink. “Clean cotton sheets and ocean breeze.”

“Ok, wow you are actually going to do the other things.”

“Well yeah.” Robyn turned to him. “You can pick you own music.” Back over at the shelf, she routed through another wicker basket and took out a sheet face mask. “Need some hydration?”

“God yes.” He reached and took the mask from her. “Perfect though this is much more than a bath and not covered in a voucher.”

“And how many days of relaxation are you going to get when you get back to London?” She asked him. “Straight back to work, long nights and days and I know the last couple of weeks on set are always busy and demanding, so take this hour to enjoy the basic luxury I can offer you.”

His hug was tight and his first kiss was quick while the rest left Robyn wanting more so on her tip toes she kissed him again.

“So, I take that kiss as you are on board with me having the bath then?”

“Yup.” Robyn gave him a squeeze and stepped back, her hands going to his cheeks. “You call me if you feel any way off, panic or need to get out ok?”

“I will, I promise but I am not leaving this bath of bubbles until I go completely wrinkly.”

“Everywhere?” Robyn grinned.

“Everywhere.” He confirmed.

Robyn left him with a smile and after she had closed the door to the closet, Taron left the face mask at the side of the bath and grabbed a towel from the laundry room, putting it on the silver bars of the towel warmer, switching it on. Ridding himself of his shirt, he folded it and placed it counter of the sink, the opposite side to the candles. Walking back to the bath, he was glad he did as the water was starting to get high and he turned off the tap. The bubbles were right up to the edge of the bath, glistening in the light of the bathroom. It looked incredibly inviting and smelt amazing. Adding his shorts and boxers to his shirt, he padded over to the bath and carefully lifted his right foot to step in, the heat a little too hot on his skin but he knew his body would adjust quickly. Both legs in, he lowered himself down, a little concerned that the water was going to spill over the edge but once he lay against the back of the bath, the ripples of the water settled and the bubbles floated back into place. His whole body quickly soaked up the warmth and he knew immediately that he was going to be ok sitting in the bath. The water was gorgeously warm, the numerous bubbles way too much but also perfect and whatever Robyn had added to the water was already helping him relax and it was nothing like a cold freezing pool on set. He took some calming deep breathes, already smelling the fragrance from the candles Robyn had lit and Taron knew he was going to enjoy this so much. Lifting his left hand, he reached for the control panel for the jets and switched it onto low. Immediately programmed streams of bubbles rose from the bottom, back and sides of the bath and Taron’s head turned when he heard some splashes and lifted his body a little out of the water.

“Woops.”

There were a few bubbles on the bathroom floor, another couple joining them as the jets made the water ripple. Knowing there was nothing he could do about it, he moved back against the bath and pressed the button for the jets to fizzle stronger. His neck rolled as the pressure of the water felt amazing against his skin. The dancing bubbles rolling against his whole back and legs and he decided that he needed to invest in a bath that made bubbles for his home and somehow try to fit it in his bathroom because it was exactly what he would need after a long day on set.  He called out for Alexa to play some Joni Mitchel and once he had the face mask positioned properly, he lay back and dipped down into the water until his chin covered his bubbles. He was going to happily lay as long as he could until the water went cold or Robyn came looking for him, figuring the second option was the most likely one to happen.

Robyn had her ear pressed hard against the bathroom door and stood there for about ten minutes listening for any signs that Taron could be in distress but she heard nothing, only the gentle tones of one of his favourite artists filtering through. Still concerned she had pushed him too hard even with their jokes, Robyn stayed at the door another five minutes before she knew she had to trust that Taron would call her if he needed her. Needing a distraction, she headed for the laundry room and emptied the washing machine, popping the clothes into the dryer. She needed to keep Taron in clean clothes for the rest of his time with her and she wanted to be sure when they woke tomorrow he would have something to wear.

Before she left the laundry room, she grabbed a fresh change of bed sheets. Saturday was her usual day to change the sheets but Taron would sleep even better in a freshly made bed. Dragging the duvet off, she pulled the pillows from the pillow cases and dropped them onto the floor and stripped the bed completely, making it up with a dark blue fitted sheet, a light blue flat on top and six fresh pillow cases. Once the bed was fully remade, the pillows fluffed, cwtch back in the centre of the bed, Robyn started the washing machine with the sheets. She was absolutely guilty of pressing her ear to the bathroom door again through the laundry room but everything was quiet, Joni playing, the hum of the bath coming through the door too. Walking back into the kitchen, Robyn paced as she took her iron tablet and paced some more until she couldn’t take the silence any longer. Taron had been in the bathroom nearly forty minutes and while the bath water had been scorching hot, it had to have gone cold by now and she was worried that she had heard nothing from him.

Back in the bedroom, she walked to the bathroom door and gave it a knock, a second one following when she heard nothing. Robyn felt her heart start to beat a little quicker and her mind race with upsetting thoughts.

“Taron?” She knocked harder, her voice louder.

“Robyn?” She heard him call back and let out the breath she had been holding. “You ok?”

“Am I ok? Are you ok?” She called in.

“Yeah, I am fine.”

“You are very quiet.”

“Well cariad, I am having a bath with bubbles, lit candles, a face mask and Joni.”

She leaned her forehead on the door, closing her eyes, picturing exactly what he had described. “Are there still bubbles?”

Taron looked to the water which was had definitely lost a lot of its heat but still felt good and the mountain of bubbles were floating thickly on top. “Yes Robyn. You poured half the bottle in.”

“Ok good, ‘cos I am coming in!”

“Wait, what?”

The door opened and even though he was completely submerged in white foamy bubbles, Taron’s hands went right down to cover himself, his head turning to watch as Robyn walked in. “Chicken!”

“Lots of bubbles, right?” She asked as she stood at the door.

“Well yeah.”

“And can anything be seen?”

Taron glanced over the water and shook his head. “Well no.”

“So, am I ok to keep going over to you?” She asked. “I will stay at the top of the bath at your head.”

Taron took his hands away and turned a little in the bath. “You are going to stay here with me?”

“Ok do I need to spell this out for you?” She asked with a little smile. “You have been here nearly forty minutes, I couldn’t hear anything and I was worried.”

Taron’s face grinned, though it was hard to tell as he still had the facemask on. “You have spent the whole time listening against the door, haven’t you?”

Robyn tilted her head. “Not the whole time.” She took a step closer to the bath. “I changed the bed sheets, put on a wash and took my tablet too.”

Taron tugged at the edge of the face mask and pulled it from his face. “And spent the remainder of the time listening at the door, right?”

Robyn bit her lip and nodded. “I was…”

“Worried.” Taron finished for her. He glanced at the bath water again. “You can’t see anything?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Because that fills me with confidence.”

Robyn chuckled. “I can’t see a thing Taron. I filled that bath with so many bubbles, the ratio of water to bubbles is in favour of the bubbles.”

His laugh was light and he gave her a nod. “Well come on over then.”

Robyn walked to the bath and as promised, once she had pulled the bath mat over so she had something soft to kneel on, found position at the back of the bath, while Taron lay back as he was before but his hands were definitely resting on his lap.

“Bath was nice then?” Robyn asked him.

“Perfect. These jets are powerful and the bubbles, bubbly.”

“And you are probably all wrinkly because you have been in here so long.” Taron lifted his left hand from the water and Robyn reached forward to take it, running the tips of her fingers over his. “Like a prune.” She dropped his hand, his arm falling into the bath with a splash. “And you are ok right?”

“I am just fine. I promise. Warm and relaxed and very much needing one of these for my home.”

Robyn smiled at him. “I am sure you can organise that.”

“Probably but it won’t come with the salts, or bubble bath or bath bombs or a Robyn to make it perfect for me.”

Her laugh was light and she knelt to her full height so she could stretch over him to gently kiss his lips and then his forehead. “It is easy to run a bath Taron.”

“Nah-ah.” He replied, loving the beautiful upside down kiss he just got. “I won’t be able to melt the salts properly and probably end up getting all the bubble bath the smells like flowers.”

Robyn stayed kneeling as she was and ran her left hand through his hair. “I can always give you the name of the bubble bath.” She added her right hand to his head. “And the bath bombs.” She waited for him to answer but nothing came. “Taron?”

“Hair…”

Shaking her head, Robyn used her nails to very lightly scratch his scalp. “Always with the hair.”

“My favourite thing.”

“You are going to get cold in that water.”

“Five minutes.”

“Two.” Robyn countered. “And we can continue this in the nice warm bed.”

“Deal.” The two minutes went by in a flash and Taron groaned when Robyn took her hands from his hair. “Don’t even complain to me.” She told him. “The point of the bath was to warm you up, not cool you down.”

“Yeah alright.” Taron agreed, feeling the cooler water against his skin, now that his head massage was finished with. He looked at the water, still full with bubbles and sighed. “You do realise that when I stand up, I am going to be covered in bubbles.”

Robyn lightly laughed as she got to her feet, fixing the bath mat back beside the porcelain tub. “Hmmm I shall leave you to figure that one out yourself then.”

“Robyn…” Taron’s tone was bright but he moved in the bath to kneel, his arms resting on the side of the tub. “Robyn!” Looking down at his chest, as he thought, his skin was covered in the frothy bubbles, his arms too.

When she looked back, she grinned. “That is a good look for you.”

“Cariad…”

“Nearly better than your flour look.” She disappeared from view for about three second and was back with her phone, taking two photos. “For my wall.”

“Why you… Robyn!”

“I will keep the bed warm for you.” She giggled, walking out of the bathroom and closing the door, her heart beating a little fast as she looked at the two photos she had just snapped. Hair brushed to the side and covered in bubbles, she was definitely going to print this one out for her photos above her headboard.

Taron had to brush all the bubbles from his body once he stood up to his full height, shaking his head as he had to do his legs too once he got fully out of the bath. He felt a shiver run through him as he stepped across the tiles to get the towel, the blue fluffy material lovely and warm and he wrapped himself up in it before he tied it around his waist. Reaching over to the mirror, he had to wipe it with his hand to get the condensation off. His skin was pink, his cheeks flushed and his hair a mess and he felt wonderful. The bath was been an extra treat he needed and as he lay, he just emptied his thoughts as best he could, trying to be positive about the last couple of days. While the set work was horrible, he tried to remember it was the last of his pool work and he had about four weeks left before he was done and could take a break. While he was disappointed in himself and his work, he knew Matthew was going to send him the footage and his director was happy with it. He had some time away from set and that always helped to clear his head and he was doing it with one of the most important people in his life who as always loved him and looked after him and supported him in every way she could.

Glancing in the mirror, his face was just smiling and he enjoyed it. Running his hands over his chin, he needed a shave but brought nothing so shave with. Going to set, he took the bare minimum with him, knowing Stephanie would have what he needed if he was required to shave. He had to admit that he was enjoying the reactions he was getting from Robyn with his growing facial hair, especially when he kissed her neck and around her t-shirt. He could feel her sharp intakes of breath and how her heart kicked up a beat and it made him grin to know he had caused that.

A little happy sigh came from his lips and he routed in his wash bag for his toothbrush, his fingers touching something cold and metal and a wide smile came to him. Slipping his hands under the delicate material, he lifted it from his wash bag, the four jewels sparkling in the bathroom light. Robyn had asked him to try and find it for her and in turn he had begged Matthew and the crew in Belfast to keep an eye out for Robyn’s precious bracelet, even though it seemed a lost cause. He was surprised and astonished when he was handed the piece of jewellery in the make-up trailer by Stephanie on Wednesday. He stuttered his disbelief as she explained that the crew from the last time they were at the pool, had found it under one of the deck chairs and kept it safe until the production team were back. They gave it to Matthew who in turn gave it to Stephanie who had given it a shine up and handed it to a thankful Taron. He had placed it in his wash bag, the only place he could think of to keep it safe at the time when his mind was frazzled.

Now as he held it in his hands, he couldn’t wait to give it back to Robyn. He knew how much it meant to her and he felt the meaning behind the bracelet had increased ten-fold since yesterday. Placing it carefully back into his leather bag, he found his toothbrush and using the minty toothpaste from the sink, swayed along to the song on the speaker, bopping his head and stepping from side to side. He had changed the music from Joni to an eighties playlist after he got out of the bath as he found Joni was making him drift off and the upbeat music and the slight giddiness he was feeling felt fantastic.

Robyn leant against the doorframe and watched with amusement as Taron danced in front of the mirror. She had changed into her pyjamas and was waiting for Taron but again he was taking too long. She quietly pushed down on the door handle and peaked around the door, letting it open fully as she saw him in a towel, in front of the mirror, dancing with his toothbrush. Each minute he was with her, his smile grew wider, the unease he arrived with left him and he was his goofy old self. While she thought the bath was a terrible idea, it seemed to have literally washed away his worries and as his moves became more daring, Robyn chuckled, watching as he pointed his toothbrush at the mirror.

When he heard laughter, Taron knew he had been caught and decided there was no point in stopping and kept dancing, doing a twirl with a wink. “You know you wanna join in!”

Robyn walked towards him and picked up her toothbrush. “Nope, just wanna brush my teeth.”

Taron stood as still as he could but his head was still moving in time with the music and they stood side by side as they brushed their teeth and once Robyn was finished, she gave him a grin in the mirror. “Continue as you were.”

“Yes ma’am.”

He finished with his teeth and then rubbed some moisturiser into his face, drying himself fully and got back into his boxer shorts. He took out the bracelet from his wash bag, hiding it as best as he could in the palm of his hand. When he got the bracelet, he had wanted to give it to Robyn as soon as he could and now seemed like the most perfect time. After he gave the bath a rinse down and the bathroom floor a wipe, he made sure to turn off all of the lights in the bathroom before he left, blowing out the candles too, stopping the music and wandered into the bedroom, closing all the doors behind him. He saw Robyn sitting in the bed, the duvet around her, on her side and he took one run and jump, landing on the bed in a heap beside her.

“You are a tosspot, you know that right?”

“Yeah, a tosspot who is getting another head massage.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

Robyn gave him a fake push. “Oh yeah?”

“Erm yeah. Took me ages to get all the bubbles off.”

Robyn grinned and moved so she could run her hand over his shoulders and gently down his back. “Made you as soft as cwtch. Just like I said it would.”

“Always right.” He closed his eyes and lay down on his left side on the bed beside her. “That’s nice.”

“Thought it was a head massage I owed you.”

“Head, back, arms, face, who knows.”

Robyn moved closer to him, lifting his head so she could lay him in her lap and continued to lightly stoke his back in slow up and down caresses along his spine. His skin was silky smooth under her fingers and his back rose and fell in deep easy breathes.

“You want to get under the duvet before you fall asleep?” She asked him.

“Yes, but there is something I have for you first.” Taron sat up and crossed his legs, getting comfortable beside her.

“If you have a handful of bubbles to blow in my face, Taron Egerton you better re-think that plan.” Robyn saw his closed fist and could only imagine what he was up to.

“I don’t.” He assured her. “I promise I don’t.” He reached forward and placed his cupped hand into her right one. “Close your eyes.” He saw her doubtful look. “Cariad, just close your eyes.”

With her eyes closed, Robyn felt Taron place her other hand over his fisted one and she waited for a few seconds, still with her eyes closed. She felt him open his hand and drop something onto her palm and once she heard the little clink, her eyes opened wide and she looked to her hands. Her eyes immediately lifted to look at Taron and he gave her the slightest nod. Glancing to her hands once more, she then threw herself at him, wrapping him up tight in her arms. He was not expecting the hug and when Robyn flung herself at him, he fell over backwards, laughing hard as she placed kiss after kiss after kiss all over his face. He let her kiss him, his body laying flat on the bed, his hands on her back. She gave him a couple more kisses, ending with four on his lips and then sat up, Taron leaning on his elbows, watching as she held her bracelet in her hands.

“How on earth did you find it?”

“I didn’t.”

Her face changed. “Oh no, you didn’t get a new one, did you?”

“Oh no! No!” Taron pulled himself up, shuffling a little so Robyn was now sitting on his legs rather than his lap. “I didn’t get a new one. This is the one I got you for your birthday.”

“Taron, how?”

“One of the crew on set found it, under a deck chair, when they were clearing up the day after you were rushed to hospital. Matthew had asked them to keep an eye out for it and they found it. They minded it until production started again on Wednesday and they gave it to Matthew who gave it to Stephanie, who gave it to me and then I gave it back to you.” Her face was looking down and Taron lifted her chin. “Robyn, wait…” He wiped a tear from her cheek. “Why the tears?”

“Because you found it.” She sniffed, wiping another tear that fell. “I didn’t think I would ever get this back but you found a way to find it. This bracelet always meant so much to me because of the thought and meaning behind it.”

“Cariad…”

“And now well, now it’s just so much more special.”

Leaning into her, Taron held her close to him, laying his cheek on her shoulder. “Technically I didn’t find it.”

Robyn lifted herself from him and lightly thumbed his chest. “Seriously?” She asked with a smile.

“Well, I didn’t, and ouch.” He replied rubbing his chest.

Robyn ducked her head and kissed the spot he had been rubbing. “Sorry.”

“It’s ok if you do that again.”

She grinned and placed another kiss on his chest, moving up to the left side of his jaw and then his lips. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome. Just promise me you won’t lose it again.”

He was expecting the second thump and caught her hand as she went to get him, pulling her into him, kissing her before she could say something, slipped his two arms around her as they kissed. It was slow and silent, Robyn shuffling closer to his body, his chest pressed against hers, bare legs touching. Taron pulled back first, his gasp loud as Robyn tugged his hair so they could kiss again, her lips grazing over his. The scent from the bubble bath had left a wonderful aroma on his skin and Robyn inhaled the clean freshness deeply, her whole two hands running up and down his back, feeling him feed his fingers under the hem of her top, his hands resting on her waist, sneaking up further to feel bare skin.

Taron hummed happily with the sensation of her hands and lips and could feel himself slowly becoming excited. Of course it wasn’t helping that every few seconds, Robyn rolled her hips against his groin and his eyes rolled when she hit a sensitive spot, his fingers digging into her.

“Fuck sorry.” He apologised, his hands quickly rubbing over her sides. “Sorry.” He took his hands from her. “Sorry, just…” He took a shaky breath, his hands running through his hair and down his face. “Robyn…”

Her body was still squashed against his and Robyn leaned in to press her forehead to his, not wanting to move away from him. “I know…” She answered him, hearing her voice tremble. “I know.” She didn’t move from him, but rested her cheek on his shoulder instead, still trailing her finger tips up and down his spine. While she could feel the reason why Taron had pulled away, she needed to stay attached to him because she could use his body to disguise her own urges, though pressing her body against him, maybe wasn’t a good idea but after another mouth-watering sensual make out session, she just wanted to be close to him. She could hear his heart racing and was glad to feel his hands slip back around body and under her top again, copying the circles she was making on his back.

They sat for a while, breathing each other in, Robyn hands moving to the hair as the nape of Taron’s neck, while his stayed roaming around her back.

“Those bubbles bath really made your skin so soft.”

Her words made him chuckle and he gave her a squeeze, moving away and looking straight in her eyes. “I am not complaining, believe me I am not.” He said. “But…” He rose an eyebrow at her.

“Yeah I know. Sorry.”

“Oh no, please do not apologise.” He felt a red hue start to fill his cheeks. “It’s fucking amazing but I don’t want to rush anything for us that we may not be ready for, even if our bodies are disagreeing.”

Robyn took her hands from his hand and cupped his left cheek, her thumb brushing over his lower lip. “Ok well I am not sorry then.” She assured him. “You have freckles on your bottom lip.”

“What?” Taron’s face turn confused for a moment, until she said it again.

“Yes, you do.” She ran her thumb over his bottom lip again. “Little ones.”

He chuckled at her. “Trust you for the most random change of subject when it is needed most.”

“I say it, like I see it.”

“And you saw freckles.” He grinned, pouting his lower lip out trying to see them for himself but that just made Robyn kiss him again.

“I love them.” She said to him. “I love learning all these new things about you.” She said softly.

“Me too.” He agreed “But Robyn…”

“I love feeling all the new feels, Taron and they all feel right but I agree with what you said. Not rushing is a good idea, even though lots of things say otherwise.”

“Emotions and feeling are heightened a lot right now.” He smiled, giving her a light kiss. “And I could kiss you like this all night, in this position.” He grinned, his blush rising to his cheek bones.

Her little giggle made him blush more and she nodded at him. “Me too. I love kissing you and other things about you.” She added.

“Robyn…” His voice was deep and he couldn’t help the moan that came from his lips as she adjusted herself on his lap. “Robyn…”

“Sorry…” She kissed him quickly. “Sorry.”

“Fuck, I love you too.” He pulled her into him and returned the kiss, everything heating up once more. “But…” It took every ounce of his restraint to stop kissing her.

“A little slow down.” She finished for him.

“Please.”

With a nod, Robyn wrapped him up in a hug. “About the head massage instead?” She took his nod into her as a yes and carefully lifted herself from his body. She had dropped the bracelet onto the bed when things got a little heated and picking it up handed it to him. “Want the honours?”

“Sure.” Taron carefully clasped the bracelet back on for her.

“I am going to get a safety chain put it on so if it does open, I won’t lose it.”

“That’s an excellent idea. I don’t know if I can find it again, if it gets lost.”

“That is not going to happen.” She moved backwards and kicked her legs under the duvet, throwing it back a little. “So come on. I don’t think we can get into much mischief with a head massage.”

Taron grinned. “You think?”

“Well let’s give it a go.”

He had taken to laying on his left side beside her, but once Robyn made herself comfortable on the bed on her right side, she opened her arms for him and insisted that he lay his head cross her chest. Taron of course pretended to protest but snuggled deeply into her, slipping his right leg between hers, his eyes closing as he felt her pull the duvet over him.

“Tomorrow you get the cuddle.” He purred, as he rubbed his nose deeply in the V of her string top, feeling Robyn’s hand already starting to run through his hair.

“I am pretty sure there will be a switch during the night.”

“Hmm yeah ok. Sleep now.”

“Sure, sleep now.” She agreed, slowly playing with his hair. “Everything will play however it is meant to.” She whispered to him. “Let���s let it happen as it will.”

His right hand snaked under her top, the same way it seemed to be constantly doing lately, and his hand rested palm down on her rib cage. “Sounds perfect cariad.”

“And please no more apologies for anything that our bodies may betray us with over the next few days ok because I am not complaining either.”

Taron lifted his whole body, placing his hands on Robyn’s cheeks and pressed his lips to her hard, kissing her deeply, his tongue slipping through the tiniest bit. The little smacking sound echoed through the quiet bedroom as he broke the kiss, his whole face smiling. “On board with all of that.” He chuckled, giving her one more light kiss, then cosying back into her as he had been, his hand finding its place again on her ribcage, his leg settling between hers.

It took Robyn a few seconds to adjust to his sudden kiss and after she shook her head, pulled the duvet back over him, knowing her heart was thumping hard as his face sat lower than before, his nose resting neatly between the V of her chest. It felt like he had always belonged there and while she had one hand in his hair, the other was making lazy circles on his back. His sigh was beautiful and peaceful and he was a different man to the one who had appeared on her doorstep two nights ago and Robyn loved every single part of him and as he moved to get completely comfortable, she had a feeling he felt the same way about her.