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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month

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the girl next door 7

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

Your body is stiff. You blame your late-night drawing session hunched over the folding table. You feel it in your neck and shoulder. You sit up and groan, rubbing your muscles as you try to loosen the knots. You roll your arms as you stand up, yawning as you rub your eyes.

A dewy breeze flows in. The air feels like rain but the density has yet to break. You remember vaguely in the middle of the night cracking the window to cool off, your room stagnant and stale.

You near the window in your baggy shirt, dampened slightly with your sweat. It’s caught under your chest as you bulge against the fabric. You pull it free as you stand in front of the pane and blanch as you see movement on the other side. Shoot.

Your eyes meet Steve’s as he closes the window across from yours. He can feel the approaching storm too. He smiles and gives a two-fingered wave. You lift your hand weakly, barely extending your fingers before you tug shut the curtains. How much did he see? How much could he see?

You go out to get the day started. The overhead light of kitchen blares yellow across the space and you put the coffee pot on to brew. As you wait, you tidy the table, once more cluttered with your mother’s forgotten distractions. The crossword book, several pens, a home magazine, and several wrappers.

You slow the pour of coffee into your mug as you hear your mom’s bedroom door. You stare at the doorway until she appears. She limps to the table and sits heavily. You put the cup before her and grab another for yourself. She mutters and leans her head in her hand. She was home late last night.

You go to grab her inhaler from the bathroom. Once more, it’s missing. You return and find it on the counter hidden beside a used plate. It's only then you notice the blackened frozen fries on the cookie sheet. What the heck?

“Ugh, that man,” she croaks, letting it roll into a laugh, “he convinced me to have a little wine after the milkshake.” You put her inhaler in front of her. She raises her head and scowls. She rubs the furrow between her brows. “And then another. And another.”

You don’t even remember her getting home. You were up until one in the morning drawing. She must have been much later. How hadn’t you heard her make all this mess?

You sip your coffee around cleaning up. You wash the glass from the milkshake Steve brought over and set it aside. Your mother hacks and clears her throat.

“Mm, he’s too nice,” she mutters, “told him you didn’t need that. Too much sugar. You don’t even like strawberry.”

You hide your frown. You like strawberry. You’re not sure why she thinks otherwise. She’s never really asked.

“I’ll bring the glass back--”

“You remember your manners,” she girds before she hums into her coffee cup. She gulps through her wet lips noisily. “I don’t need you ruining this.”

“I will, mom.”

“Ugh,” she stands up with a groan, “I need my chair.”

Her hand trembles and the cup with it. She spills a little over the sides but doesn’t pay attention to it. You dump the tray of burnt fries and put it in the sink. You just cleaned this place top to bottom. You don’t think you’re that messy but it’s always a disaster.

You clean the rest of the dishes and put them away. Your mom hollers for more coffee and you bring the pot with you to refill her cup. She leans it on her chest and closes her eyes.

“I’m going to take the glass back now, I guess.”

“Mph, do whatever,” she utters irritably.

You trod back to your room and change into real clothes; straight-legged jeans and a stripped jersey tee. You just want to get this over with. It’s so awkward. You would rather your mom just take it back the next time she goes over but she’s in rough shape. It must be the alcohol. She’s not really supposed to have any.

You grab the glass and put on your shoes. As you come out, there’s a speckling of rain falling from the sky. You go up the walk and around the sidewalk, coming back down the pavement squares to Steve’s porch. You stop and look up at his front door. You climb the steps and drag your feet to the door.

You tap the bell. It’s one of those ones with the camera built-in. You feel overly conscious as you stand before the lens. The door opens before you can prepare yourself.

“Hey, sweetie,” Steve greets, “how are you?”

“Erm. Okay. Here.”

You hold out the glass. He doesn’t take it. He leans on the doorframe and smile.

“Crummy day, huh? Supposed to thunderstorm soon,” he comments, “too bad, I was really wanting to get that pool going.”

“Mm, yeah,” you keep the glass raised before you.

“Oh well, guess I’ll have to figure out what to do all pent up. Maybe a movie night? With all this moving, I’m way behind.”

You look at his chest, staring at the short-sleeved button up with chagrin. What is he talking about? Why is he talking so much?

“You got any suggestions? You youngins always know what’s hip,” he shakes his head and laughs, “sorry, I sound old, don’t I?”

“No,” you answer dully.

“No what? No suggestions or no I don’t sound old?” He challenges.

Your eyes go round and you look him in the face. “I don’t know.”

“I’m teasing--”

“Here,” you wiggle the glass at him.

He takes it, his fingers brushing against yours. You let it go and recoil. You bare your teeth strangely and back away, “thanks, er. Bye.”

You turn and cringe at the grey sky. You trudge off the porch and cut across the lawn, too mortified not to trod over his grass. You clamber up the front steps and quickly shut yourself inside the house. You hiss at yourself as you press your back to the door.

“Don’t slam the goddamn door,” your mother sneers, “Jesus. No wonder this place is falling apart.”

🏠

It’s one of those days where you’re just sad. You can’t pinpoint why. It’s just a vague malaise that won’t leave. Even as the sun beams and deepens to a soft evening hue, you can’t see a light among the dark.

You don’t know how long you’ve been like that. Under your covers, crying for no good reason. It just hurts to be. You keep your arm folded over your pounding head. You just want to sleep and yet you can’t cross the barrier into unconscious.

You give up and roll onto your back, pulling the blanket to your waist. You exhale and stare up at the ceiling. You’re head swims from the deluge of tears. You sop them up with the sheet and sit up. Your head is full and throbbing.

You get up, bleary-eyed, and muddle your way through reality. You pull open your door and find the bathroom on instinct alone. You shut yourself in and blow your nose. The effort has you even more dizzy. You shake your head, trying to clear out the fog, and turn on the cold water. You throw it across your face, holding a wet palm to your forehead to try to ease the tension.

Your ears tickle with a strange noise. A low drone. Like bass on the front television. Now and again, your mom will amp up the TV but it’s unexpectedly loud. You twist off the faucet and stand straight. You dry off and head back into the hall, peering down at the shifting light glaring from the living room doorway.

“Woahhh,” the voice catches you unaware as someone collides with you from behind in the dim hallway. You stumble and turn to face Steve as popcorn scatters onto the floor, tumbling over the brim of the bowl. The smell tugs at your stomach, “sorry sweetie, I didn’t see you there.”

You look at his silhouette, unable to make out any of his features. You didn’t even know he was there. Your mother didn’t even warn you. You suspect that may have been purposeful.

“Sweetie?”

“Sorry,” you back up, “didn’t mean... to get in the way.”

You turn and shuffle back to your room. He follows, “your mom said you weren’t feeling good. Hope you get better soon, but if you’re interested, we’re watching a movie.”

Your bedroom door is wide open. If you’d known, you would’ve been sure to shut it tight.

“No, thank you,” you grab the handle and slowly shift the door behind you.

“No problem,” he calls after you, “offer stands if you change your mind.”

You click the door shut gently and stay on the other side, listening for his footsteps. He lingers, a bit too long, and it’s only as he walks away that you go back to your bed. There’s something strange about him. Or maybe it’s just you.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #series #the girl next door #au #silverfox au #mcu #marvel #captain america

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 1 year

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Be Mine, Please! | Yandere Yor Forger

“Uh hi, Miss. Forger uhm I didn’t realize you were staying with us today.”

The candid question had no effect on Yor, who was still smiling at you with her hands folded underneath her chin. When you arrived at the Forger residence you were under the impression that Anya would be home alone as per the usual schedule. But Yor didn’t follow after Loid in any capacity. Not in a delayed exit or an appointment midday…she never changed out of her casual clothes.

“Nope! I get to spend the day with you and miss Anya!”

This was fine. You collected the remaining plates on the table, making your way to the sink. Perhaps she just wanted some help…who were you kidding Mrs. Forger wasn’t one to hide her desires about spending more time with you. You just wished she hadn’t paid you to do so. She seemed like a lovely woman and you wouldn’t have minded going out for a drink or two. But as the morning went on she sipped on her drink while watching you and Anya play.

It was harder to play spies that morning; you didn’t mind Bond as an audience but not another adult. You couldn’t help your eyes wandering to the reflection of her crimson eyes in the window, watching you with a smile on her face.

“(Y/n)! Why aren’t you doing the sync-up dance? How will we release our powers to complete the mission?”

“Uh, Anya…can we not do the whole dance today?”

“What, why?! You said it’s important we do it every time, with all our hearts!”

“Y-yes but…Yor…is here…”

Anya doesn’t understand your plight, or rather she ignores it demanding you do the dance with her. Reluctantly you did the dance looking away when Yor smiled and giggles at your dancing form. With Anya down for a nap, you were left to deal with Yor without the distraction of Anya.

“Ah (Y/n) you’re so lively with Anya! Do you have children of your own?”

You continued washing the dishes, watching her rise from the table to lean on the kitchen counter.

“No b-but I had plenty of experience with young kids…uh y’know family friends and all.”

You were quick to respond, hoping your answer was sufficient enough to satisfy her.

“Mmmm? Wow, then do you have a partner?”

You didn’t know what this had to do with your prowess with child care but you guessed this might have just been her way of making small talk.

“Uh no not right now…”

She did a little jump-twirling with her cup as she made her way to your side making moves to wash the cup alongside you. Hip to hip she moves to lean her face as close as possible to yours, you back away trying to avoid the waves of heat coming off her body. She only seems to move closer to you, oddly snuggling into you as you finished the dishes.

“That’s a shame,” she didn’t sound sorry.” But you're such a catch! It's crazy to think no one’s snatched you up yet!”

“W-well th-thanks Miss Forger.”

You backed away from the sink to put the dishes away all with Yor in tow.

Finally closing the cupboard you turned to leave facing Yor as she moves her hand upside down holding your chin with the pad of her pointer finger.

“It’s Yor.”

You nodded your head, backing away to walk to Anya’s room. Hardly making any space between you two as she follows you down the little hallway. It was like that for the rest of the day even when Anya woke once more you were forced to include Yor who seemed more than eager to be pressed into your side for as long as possible.

Finally, your timer went off, and right on time, Loid walked into the home. Yor and Anya ran over to greet him, letting you relax for the first time today as you packed up the ‘gear’ you used for your spy games.

“Well, I best be on my w–”

“Won’t you stay (Y/n)? Please I’ve been dying to let you try my stew! It actually tastes delicious!”

Her excitement rivaled Anya’s as she turned back to you shuffling her feet up and down as she awaited your answer. You tried to restrain your grimace, having fallen for the trap of Yor’s cooking before. For assurance, you looked to Loid who chuckled hanging his hat and suit on the coat rack.

“It actually is really good.”

“Yeah! Even Anya didn’t die this time!”

“H-hey!”

You chuckled feeling your heart sway as you tried to think about your choice. You stop when you remember the chores you had to do; so you made your case. Fully prepared for the wobbling bottom lips and tearful eyes of Anya, Bond, and Yor. It’s Loid who puts the nail in the coffin when you feel his ungloved hands wrap around your shoulders, giving a comforting squeeze. When you turn your head you’re met with the sky-blue eyes of Loid who smiles at you.

“We’d love it if you did stay… I’d be sure to make it up to you.”

You didn’t know if it was the implication of money or the manly cologne that was fragrant around Loid: a beautiful man who made just about anyone weak in the knees–you included. You sighed exasperated as you held your hands out in defeat.

“Fine but I-”

“Yay!” “Ahhh~!”

Grabbing your hands and holding them close Yor nuzzled her nose against yours before pulling you along with her into the kitchen with Anya pushing you from behind. Loid let his eyes become half-lidded as he watched you be engulfed in his family’s chaos. He watched you fluster and give in as you let your silliness be released; he makes a note to himself.

“Well a family that sticks together, stays forever.”

#yandere yor forger #yandere spy x family #yandere forger family #yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere loid forger #spy x family #spy x family yor #spy x family loid #yandere yor briar #yandere harem

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kozidraws · 1 year

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Secret Ingredient

Kiribaku | Rated: T (2,448 words)

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Lunch Rush happily stands in front of class A one afternoon in the cafeteria kitchen, clapping his hands together to get their attention. “Gather around students! Here are the details for this afternoon’s lesson. I’ve decided we’re going to do a bake-off! Whoever wins gets a prize! You’ll have one hour to whip up something edible, any students failing this get to stay behind and clean!”

A collective groan rang out through the students.

But not Bakugo. No, he can already feel the feral grin curling his lips. This is going to be one of his easiest victories yet.

Lunch Rush points towards the separated counters. “Two students per counter, off you go!”

Bakugo doesn’t even need to look for who would join him when he picks out the counter closest to the pantry, a few seconds later Kirishima settles beside him. The redhead grins brightly, knocking his fists together to hype himself up. Bakugo shouldn’t find the gesture cute but he does. He quickly looks away, there’s no time to be staring at adorable himbos. Bakugo snatches up an apron to wear then heads towards the pantry to grab the required ingredients, he decides he’s going to make a spiced cake, no need to make anything overly complicated.

Which is why he’s surprised when Kirishima comes back from the pantry with an armful of various items, including potatoes. Interesting.

Oh well, he’ll see what Kirishima makes later. Washing his hands in the sink beside him Bakugo then swiftly grabs a bowl, a mixer and measuring cups and spoons then carefully measures out his ingredients to chuck in when needed he also flips the switch to preheat the oven and lines his baking tray. Preparation is important.

Bakugo is mixing the dry ingredients together in a bowl when his eyes happen to slide over to Kirishima, then gives the redhead a double take.

What the hell is Kirishima doing?

Kirishima had turned his oven on when he saw Bakugo doing it before which was smart but now he’s struggling trying to turn on the gas stovetop. He flicked it on, the gas making a telltale clicking noise but it’s not lighting which makes the redhead grunt in frustration. Hmm. He’s probably not pushing the switch down when he turns it.

Bakugo clears his throat to get his attention, when Kirishima turns to him Bakugo’s hand move to one of the switches and wordlessly demonstrates how to do it properly. Kirishima gives him a short nod and follows suit, finally the gas ignites so Kirishima can put the pot of water and potatoes on top. The redhead brings out a bowl for the next step, he’s not measuring anything, just eyeballing it and hoping for the best. Risky.

The next step for Bakugo was to mix in the wet ingredients, easy enough. Once everything was combined he poured the batter into the lined tray, opening the oven door to slide the tray in. He took his phone out to set a timer. Now all he has to do is wait.

He’s leaning against the countertop scrolling on his phone when a crash on the other side of the table startles him. Looking over he sees that Kirishima had accidentally dropped a bowl containing what looked to be a pasta sauce that upended into the sink, the liquid rapidly going down the drain. Kirishima stares at the scene in stunned silence, as if he can’t process what just occurred.

‘Ah shit.’ Bakugo winced in sympathy.

Bakugo sees Kirishima’s bottom lip start to wobble and a few tears well up and spill he snaps into action. He can’t handle when Kirishima cries, his heart won’t let him. So when Lunch Rush isn’t paying attention to their section of the kitchen Bakugo quickly invades Kirishima’s space, there’s no words coming out of Kirishima’s mouth, just faint hiccups and gasps.

Without being asked to Bakugo whispers advice to him, retrieving a new bowl and adjusting the oven to the correct temperature . Turns out Red was trying to make potato bake. Which is also a pretty easy dish, he just brought over too many ingredients and probably got overwhelmed.

Kirishima sniffles, discreetly wiping his tears on his apron but he follows Bakugo’s instructions as he places lines of sliced potato onto a tray. After a while Kirishima starts to work more confidently. Bakugo quickly measures out the last few ingredients for him and tips them into the bowl then nudges Kirishima’s shoulder in encouragement. The redhead pours the sauce carefully over the potatoes then slides his tray into the oven and Bakugo instructs him to set a twenty minute timer then work on grating the cheese.

Bakugo returned to his work station as if nothing happened, finishing off the final touches of his cake. His heart feels lighter when he sees the small smile Kirishima has out of the corner of his eye.

Thirty minutes later Lunch Rush announces their time is up.

Bakugo wins the contest (no surprise there) but Momo definitely gave him a run for his money. Kirishima came in somewhere just below midway but at least not last place so no cleaning duty for him. The redhead draped an arm over Bakugo while he raised his other hand to give him a fist bump which Bakugo returned.

The winner’s prize ended up being rare imported spices, which was nothing to scoff at, some of them smelled pretty spicy so he’ll have to save them for a special occasion.

—————————————

Over the next few days Bakugo started to notice a slight change in Kirishima. Nothing bad of course, just typically when Bakugo would cook for them Kirishima would be finishing his homework upstairs, playing video games or chatting with the squad until Bakugo would eventually text to get his butt downstairs.

Yesterday Kirishima was at the dorm table messing with his phone but he could see out of his peripheral that Kirishima kept stealing glances at him.

Today though…

Today Kirishima was leaning against the kitchen counter when Bakugo walked in, typing away on his phone again. He wasn’t blocking the counter space so Bakugo didn’t shoo him out. Instead, he went to the fridge to collect tonight’s ingredients. As Bakugo started prepping and measuring he noticed the tapping sounds of Kirishima’s phone stopped. Glancing sideways he noticed Kirishima’s staring once again. The redhead blushed at getting caught, ducking his face down and bringing his phone close to his face, furiously keysmashing and pretending to be writing a very important message.

Trying not to chuckle from such a cute reaction, Bakugo opens a drawer and retrieves an apron, throwing it over Kirishima’s head to cover him, earning a yelp of surprise.

“You don’t look busy, help me with this.”

Once Kirishima slips the apron off his head he finally registers what Bakugo said. “Huh? Oh! Okay!” He perks up instantly, haphazardly tying his apron. Clearly too excited as he invades Bakugo’s space.

Just like the bake off, Bakugo is surprised when he gives Kirishima instructions the redhead quiets down to concentrate. Kirishima is so focused on peeling the vegetables his tongue is poking out the side of his mouth. He’s being too damn cute it almost makes Bakugo crush an entire egg in his hand, shell and all.

————————

It becomes a nightly routine. Bakugo doesn’t even need to remind Kirishima to help once their homework is done, he’s either already tagging along beside him or he’s downstairs tying his apron on or cleaning the bench top in preparation (which Bakugo honestly appreciates).

Kirishima steadily improves, he even starts asking questions and recommendations for what spices work well together and which meats work best in certain dishes.

Bakugo’s proud of his progress.

It’s a few weeks later when Bakugo is walking to the kitchen when Kirishima stands in the doorway, effectively blocking Bakugo’s view of the kitchen. Bakugo crosses his arm and raises an eyebrow.

Kirishima takes a steady breath then puffs out his chest looking extremely determined.

“I’m cooking dinner tonight.”

Bakugo leans against the wall, “Is that so?”

Kirishima nods. “Yup! You’re banned from entering the kitchen tonight.” He decrees, raising his hands to grasp Bakugo’s shoulders to turn the blond towards the dinner table. “I want you to sit and relax. You’ve earned it.”

He can’t argue with that. “Yessir.”

Kirishima turns towards the kitchen again but looks over his shoulder, “and no peeking! Even if the fire alarms go off!”

Bakugo snorts and leaves him to it.

Though he will admit, it’s kinda nice having a break from cooking, and the thought of Kirishima cooking something specifically for Bakugo makes his heart do a weird flutter. To distract his thoughts going down that road again he whips out his phone to distract himself.

Almost an hour later Kirishima pops his head out of the the kitchen with a nervous grin but still blocking the view inside.

Bakugo quickly stands up, alert. “Everything okay?”

Kirishima scratches the side of his cheek, chuckling awkwardly. “So, I may have spilled sauce on my shirt, can you please go to my room and get me a new one?”

“Sure, be back in five minutes.” Bakugo grunts, pushing himself away from the table. He’s sure nothing bad will happen in the kitchen within that short amount of time.

Using Kirishima’s spare key Bakugo lets himself in, eyeing off the redhead’s wardrobe he picks out a loose tank top. He’s sure Kirishima will appreciate wearing less since it can get pretty hot in the kitchen when you have to cook. No other reason…

Walking back down with the top in hand he can pick up the scent of something spicy wafting in the air, it smells so damn good it makes his stomach growl in anticipation. When he gets to the bottom of the stairs through he notices the main light in the dinning room has been switched off, but he could see a soft orange glow flickering.

When he walks into the room though he freezes.

On the dining table a set of candles now sat in the centre, the source of the flicking lights. And there stood Kirishima, standing beside a chair that had a covered plate and set out cutlery in front of it, his shirt had no trace of any supposed sauce stains.

That sneaky bastard.

Bakugo draped the top over one of the other chairs as he walked over, crossing his arms. Kirishima grinned at him, clearly pleased with the ruse. Bakugo couldn’t help smirking back at him.

“Didn’t peg you for a romantic. Gonna pull out the chair for me too?” Bakugo teased.

“You bet I am.” As Kirishima did just that.

Bakugo blushed then sat down, his hand going towards the domed lid but Kirishima quickly brushed his hand aside, taking hold of the lid himself to lift it up and reveal one of Bakugo’s favorite meals. A soft gasp escapes his throat.

He didn’t teach Kirishima how to make this.

“How-”

“Don’t kill me, but I maaayy have texted your mom for the recipe.”

Reflexively Bakugo flinched at the mention of his mom and the thought of both of them talking about him but he took a quick breath to calm himself down.

He picked up the chopsticks set out and paused. There was only one dish at the table, Bakugo glanced up to Kirishima who was still standing beside him. “Where’s yours?”

“I didn’t make enough for two portions, tonight was all about you.” He paused, fiddling with his fingers. “Plus I didn’t want to use too much of your special spices.”

Bakugo can feel his face growing hotter. This was so thoughtful and so fucking sweet he almost feels like he’s going to explode. No one has ever gone out of the way for him like this before. God he loves Kirishima so much.

But first he needs to fix something.

He snags Kirishima’s sleeve and kicks out the chair beside him. “A meal like this is better shared.”

Kirishima takes the hint and sits down beside him, their legs gently pressing against each other. He was also sporting a wicked blush as well, at least they’re equal in that regard.

Kirishima’s hand motions towards the chopsticks in Bakugo’s hand and shyly asks, “May I?”

He nods, wordlessly handing the chopsticks over. Kirishima gets to work picking up a small portion and lifting it up towards Bakugo, the amount of concentration so it doesn’t drop is sweet. Bakugo gently holds Kirishima’s arm, leaning forward to take the bite of offered food.

It’s fucking amazing.

Like holy hell all the spices mingle together perfectly, the meat was so soft and tender it practically melted in his mouth, almost drooling when the familiar burn of spice rose in the back of this throat.

He doesn’t remember closing his eyes but when he slowly opened them he could see Kirishima watching him in awe.

He graced Kirishima with a rare smile, “It’s perfect, thank you.”

Kirishima beamed brightly from the praise, bouncing slightly in his chair from happiness.

Bakugo smirked, reaching over to take the chopsticks out of Kirishima’s hand. “Your turn, Eijiro.”

Kirishima nodded eagerly, closing his eyes and opening his mouth slightly. It gave Bakugo the perfect opportunity to lean into Kirishima’s space and kiss him on the lips. Kirishima let out a squeak of surprise but once he recovered from the initial shock he was eagerly reciprocating, hands flying up to latch onto Bakugo’s shoulders. The redhead quickly let out a breath making Bakugo feel bold, sticking his tongue out to brush against Kirishima’s, mentally cheering in victory when Kirishima let out a whine.

It was absolutely fucking perfect.

Or it was, until Kirishima’s whine grew into slightly pained one, jerking his head away from Bakugo panting. “Ow fuck! That spice is insane!” He cries, sticking his tongue out of his mouth to fan it with his hands.

Bakugo couldn’t stop the cackle escaping his mouth. “You dork.” He chuckles a few more times before grabbing the glass of water on the table and hands it to him, “here.”

Kirishima gratefully grabs it and downs the water within seconds then smacks the glass down with a sigh of relief.

Bakugo props an elbow onto the table, leaning his head into his palm, highly amused as he watches Kirishima recover. “Our first kiss sure was spicy, huh?”

Kirishima huffs and lightly whacks his shoulder. “Who needs fireworks for their first time when I basically stuck my tongue into lava.”

He can’t stop grinning as he loops his arms around Kirishima’s shoulders. “Guess we gotta build up your spice tolerance then.”

Kirishima grins, “ I guess we do.”

#bnha #kiribaku #bakugou #kirishima #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #mha #kozi writes #long post #kiribaku fanfic #posted to ao3 #sorry I don't know how to do the page break thing

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itsaash · 8 months

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Hamptons Cubs: Midnight

Prompt credit to @noots-fic-fests and character credit to @lumosinlove!

Today we're back to the Hamptons featuring some boys just trying to figure it out

Rated M, 1900 words, Read on ao3, if you prefer

Finn didn’t know what to do with his heart. It was 8 sizes too big and yet felt like it was in a vice. He wanted to pull it out and put it on ice and turn it fucking down .

Logan was in his house. With Leo. Going into Leo’s bedroom with him after an awkward evening of talking about careers and apartments and absolutely not college.

Leo must have made himself dizzy from all the darting around his eyes were doing, between the other two men, who were dancing on conversational thin ice. Finn didn’t blame Leo for yawning and pulling Logan into his bedroom with a kind goodnight. Finn had retreated to his own room and tried to force himself to sleep, hoping it would all make more sense in the morning.

But all Friday Logan had been with Leo in the kitchen like an adorable snarky shadow, and god, they were so cute together. Between frittatas and pasta salad and paninis Finn saw Logan cleaning up behind Leo like he was made for it. He saw Leo laughingly take a steak knife out of Logan’s hand (that he was trying to cut peppers with) and guide him to the sink full of dishes instead, with a kiss to the curve of his neck that forced himself to walk away from watching.

Friday, Saturday, Sunday passed with Finn trying to work, trying to not see the extra love that was cooked into their meals with the presence of Logan being around Leo. His parents loved having someone new there and at any meal they ate all together it was easy enough to stay polite but quiet. To only see the love shimmering between Leo and Logan out of the corner of his eyes because to look at it full on felt like it would burn his retinas like the sun.

Logan and Leo .

On Sunday after a dinner of grilled local sausages, a green salad from the garden, and smashed potatoes, Finn grew the courage to offer to help with dishes. Missing the time he usually had with Leo felt like a gaping opening in his heart and so he shuffled into the kitchen and settled in at the sink, aiming for casual.

“Oh hey Finn, thanks sugar. You might want to leave that pan soaking for a bit yet, the meat got nice and stuck on there.”

“Sounds good Leo, happy to help,” Finn said, holding his hands under the running water for just a breath.

“Busy weekend? Seems like you had a lot of work to do,” Leo asked.

“Hmm? Oh, oh, yeah. I didn’t get done what I wanted to this week, so I was trying to catch up. I got put on a new book recently. It’s a really great project, but I’ve just kind of … stuck on it lately, for some reason.”

Reasons including: it’s hard to focus on editing when his mind wasn’t sure what year it was, was time travelling every time he looked up and saw Logan.

Leo nodded in understanding as he finished bringing the dirty dishes to the sink. He put away the leftovers in silence as they worked together for a while. Finn took a deep breath as he scrubbed the extra dirty pan.

“I’m guessing Logan told you all about how he saved me in that history class, huh?”

Leo propped a hip against the counter near Finn, relaxed with his arms crossed. “Well he was actually pretty sure you saved him, so I guess it sounds like you helped each other.”

Finn dropped the sponge and turned to Leo, his breath heaving.

“I’m sorry,” Finn blurted out.

Leo cocked his head to the side, eyes soft. “For what?”

“That I kissed your boyfriend,” Finn said in a rush, making it sound like all one word.

“Oh sugar, Finn, don’t apologise. It’s ok. It was ages ago, I didn’t even know him then.” He picked up a towel and started drying the cookware Finn had washed before continuing. “I’m actually really glad you had each other. It makes me happy to think about the two of you studying, helping each other out.”

Finn managed a half smile at the thought of his and Logan’s study session.

“Is it ok that we’re here, Finn? If it’s weird, it’s totally fine. We can head home for the week. You’ve been … quiet …. this weekend and we really aren’t trying to mess up your week.” Leo hesitated. “Not to get in the middle of it, but Logan did mention you might feel like he ghosted you. Or that maybe you feel some anger towards him?”

“No, no! Did he say that?” Finn ran both hands through his hair, getting it wet, and took a deep breath, shaking his head. “I don’t remember it that way. Please, stay. I was surprised, like shock and awe , like get me a fainting couch type surprised. And I think it made me seize up a bit. But I see the two of you are really happy, it’s so sweet. Please, stay. Have a fun week out of the city.” Finn turned and finished cleaning the last dish and dried his hands.

Leo smiled, towel moving slowly over the dish in his hand. “Thanks Finn. That means a lot to me.”

Finn nodded and turned, meaning to head upstairs. That was about as much of confronting this weirdness that he could handle for today. Logan might be back in from his conversation with his parents at any time.

“And Finn?” Leo called. He turned back, leaning against the wall, hip popped out, listening. “Don’t avoid us, okay? If you don’t want to? I promise there’s no hard feelings on our end.” Finn just gave a small smile and nod, but the worried look lifted, just a bit, before he turned to go upstairs.

~~~~~

Logan had been helping Leo and between frittatas and his pasta salad and peach pie they had been busy all weekend. Logan was so impressed by his boyfriend, was soaking up every moment of watching Leo in his element, and with a backdrop worthy of a postcard too. Leo had even let Logan peel the peaches and mix the salad, although mostly Logan cleaned and organised and prepared while Leo cooked.

But, Finn. Logan didn’t know what to think. The shock had faded somewhat in the past two days of helping Leo with meals. It was a busy gig, an easy distraction. But then he’d glance out the window and catch a glimpse of Finn’s red hair out the window, amidst the beautiful garden and sprawling lawn. And his heart would stutter and he’d forget where he was for a moment. He’d think of books and candles and highlighters until he looked at Leo. Then reality would spin itself around him again and he’d kiss his boyfriend on the cheek as he walked to the fridge to put something away and tried to live in the present.

Sunday night they sat outside to watch the sunset, it wasn’t fully dark until nearly 10, and they sipped their drinks and watched the colour fade from the garden and flowers and trees as colours bloomed across the sky instead. And then those faded too, and the stars started sparkling out of nothingness. They sat in loungers beside each other, gaze shifting from the horizon to the sky. Leo’s hand was still warm in his with blankets over both of them.

Logan turned his head from the stars to Leo, just as awed by the sight of his love, even in the dim light.

“So are we staying the week still?”

Leo hummed. “Yeah, Finn said he wants us to. You ok with it? It’s ok if you’re not.”

Logan took a moment to trace his eyes over Leo’s cupid bow as he collected his thoughts. “I still want to. It’s beautiful here, and I have some guilt about how I treated Finn, but really I have nothing but good memories of him.”

“Yeah? You ready to talk more about it?”

Logan took in the stars. Orion’s Belt, the Big Dipper, the sparkling dots that could tell any story, told them all. When he had gathered his thoughts from the spaces between the stars, he went on.

“It was just a few months. But it’s burned into my mind like when you close your eyes after looking at something too bright. Finn is … bright.”

Leo chuckled and nodded at that, Logan squeezed his hand three times.

“Really, we pretty much just studied. We were in the zone, essay writing and memorising,” Logan continued. “Then we went to a party, and we kissed.” He set his head back against the lounge chair. “And Le, it was such a good kiss. It was a long, beautiful, hot kiss.” Logan sighed. “And I think I said something like I’m not gay ? And then the semester was pretty much over, and I was scared, and I didn’t call for months. And when I did, his number had changed.”

Leo reached over and took Logan’s hand in both of his, running his thumb in circles.

“And I kissed boys after that, and slept with girls, and never felt a hint of the spark I had with him.” He turned his head towards Leo. “Until I met you, of course.” Logan turned onto his side and ran his fingertips down Leo’s cheek. “Remember? We talked, and ate, and when you kissed me, there were the sparks of sunshine filling every part of me.”

Leo smiled, and gripped his hand tighter. “I’m glad you had each other, love. That sounds lovely, and kind of really sad.”

Logan smiled a half smile. “I love you so much. Leo, you are the light of my life. I kissed Finn, one evening, years ago. Today, I’m with you and I want you .”

Leo smiled and they leaned across the small space between chairs to press their lips together.

“You want to stay?” Leo asked.

“Yeah, I do. Let’s have our little vacation, let’s relax, and eat, enjoy the scenery,” he said, waving a hand vaguely around at the dark.

Leo’s watch beeped, midnight.

They sat in the deep quiet for a minute, hands connected between the chairs.

“You told me once your first kiss with a guy had been in college. Was that Finn then?” Leo asked softly into the darkness.

“Oui, soleil, it was.” He made the move to forgo his chair in favour of joining Leo in his. He climbed on top of Leo, pressing them chest to chest. “You were my first everything else, though.”

He leaned down and pressed their lips together and Leo tilted his head up into the kiss.

“I tried with other people in college, but it was never right, never felt good, until it was you,” Logan peppered Leo’s face with kisses. The darkness hugged them as they kissed, making them feel like the only people in the world.

Logan pressed a deep kiss down to Leo's lips, leaving him breathless. Then he stood, one leg on either side of the chair, and pulled Leo’s body down the lounge chair until his hips were near the edge. His long legs sprawled off the end onto the soft grass. Logan backed up and dropped to his knees under the midnight bright stars. The grass was only darkness, but was soft under his knees, cool in contrast to the hard heat that was soon filling his mouth.

“I love this, I never get to make you come on Sundays,” Logan murmured against his skin.

Leo huffed a laugh, arching his back involuntarily. “I think it is Monday by now, baby, ahhh.”

Logan just hummed and swallowed in response.

Leo could hardly see Logan through the darkness, but the stars twinkling in the sky kept him company when stars sparked and exploded behind his eyes.

#o'knutzy #characters by lumosinlove #coast to coast #fic-o-ween 2023 #hamptons AU #midnight

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atherix · 1 year

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hello aci, critically important midnight lore question. what are everyones (mumbo, scar, grian, and anyone else you would like) favorite chores to do? (cooking, laundry, dishes, etc) and what chores (if any) would they rather dive into life threatening danger to avoid? on the off chance this is a repeat question sorry orz

Hi Chel!! <3

Oh this is a fun question :o Hmmm

Scar likes cooking, as we know by now, and would rather punt himself into the sun than do laundry (technology is pretty set back in this world so most laundry is done by hand, which Scar despises, but redstone machines are notorious for the redstone failing if the machine gets wet so redstone washers are generally seen as absolute rubbish). He hates how his hands get all pruney and go numb and afterwards they're all dry and stuff from the detergents and he ALWAYS manages to burn himself on the iron when ironing the clothes and he just despises laundry, really...

Mumbo enjoys dusting and sweeping/mopping and organizing things- he finds it calming and gives him time to think- but would rather set himself on fire than put his hands in dishwater. (He is determined to design and make a dishwasher that won't destroy the redstone components but everyone knows redstone + water is usually disastrous...) Dishwater is yucky, we all know this, but he's loathe to waste water by keeping the tap running.

Grian actually likes laundry- his talons means less wrinkly prune-feeling and his talons don't go numb from running the clothes across a washboard, and he likes the sound it makes. Because laundry's a long process at this point (again, pre-machinery, electricity is still relatively new in this world and redstone + water = bad) he likes to do it at a time when Mumbo is still asleep and Scar is either also asleep or working. Unlike Scar and Mumbo, he actually doesn't mind any chores- as long as he's not the only one doing them. Unless it's laundry, he will actively shoo the others away from laundry. It's the one chore he thoroughly enjoys. (Luckily Mumbo isn't overly attached to laundry bc the moment Grian moved in he took over LMAO)

Mmm as for others... Tubbo doesn't like doing ANY chores, but if he had to pick one it'd be taking out the trash- quick and easy. The one chore he absolutely hates, though- the one he would rather go back to Midnight Alley than do would have to be cleaning the bathroom. Scrubbing the sink, the bathtub, the toilet- he despises it. Definitely bribed someone else to do it when it appeared on his chores list for the week when he was a teen.

Cub doesn't particularly enjoy any specific chore (partly because, you know, he's the King's assistant and doesn't DO chores). This man here does less chores than a literal PRINCE (Scar) and LORD (Mumbo) and GOD (Grian) what the fuck

Lizzie is an "all the chores!!" type person but in reality she, too, enjoys cooking and hates washing dishes. Joel is indifferent to chores in general, and would rather help Lizzie cook, but he washes dishes bc Lizzie doesn't like doing it. So I guess his favorite chore is "help Lizzie/make Lizzie happy" 😌

Jimmy and Scott...... absolutely hire someone to come and clean their house once a week. They're old enough to have enough money to rival Mumbo, I think. Not Cleo, but at least Mumbo. All their chores are done at their bakery, and their favorite chore is definitely setup for the next day. Their least favorite chores are wiping down the counters where the dough was BEING prepared (Jimmy) and washing the dishes (pans and mixing bowls and stuff) (Scott).

Cleo... has other people to do chores. She's there to conduct business, manage the Coven, teach younger/newer Vampires, etc, household chores are generally performed by second, third and fourth tier Coven members (Lord's Turnlings/children, Coven Vampires (unrelated to the Lord) and Coven non-Vampires). However if we include the above among her "chores" then her favorite is teaching new Vampires how to... well... Vampire. And she would rather wrestle a basilisk than deal with the fucking Council-

BDubs likes gardening, of course. He loves maintaining the grounds of their Coven house and connecting with his Fae side. He basically helps support Cleo in his day to day life and also highly dislikes dealing with the Council, but I don't think he'd rather put himself in mortal danger than do it

Etho fucks off so much that he gets away with doing pretty much nothing one might consider a chore. Mans is just "peace out *gone*" and the sweeping's still not done. He brings new seeds home for BDubs' garden and unique and new food for the Coven Humans, though- he enjoys that.

Joe is banned from doing chores.

Ren loves doing ANY chore because he makes a game out of it, and often drags Martyn into it with him. Martyn enjoys anything to do with Renchanting and at least tolerates all other chores, but he hates cleaning the bathtub after a full moon because Ren is such a fucking puppy that when he transforms into a feral wolf with no sense of humanity left in him, instead of trying to hunt he demands Play In Water/Bath Times and thE DRAIN IS FULL OF FUR REN WHAT THE F-

Pearl hated sweeping and mopping. She just did, no real reason. She would rather fight god than sweep. Her favorite chore was to run errands, bc it got her out of the Palace for a few hours.

Grim is a typical 14 year old and groans any time you ask her to do anything (but she's also traumatized responsible and does it anyway). She haaaaaates making beds, because sheets just don't cooperate and you have to do them every day and even change them out which means fighting with sheets again and just- yeah.

Anyway I hope this vitally important Midnight Lore serves you well my friend <3

#ask #midnight series #MidnightLore #posting with friends #The Vault #<3 #long post

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weird-dere-writes · 7 months

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Good morning! I love you💖

I am humbly requesting more Ichidere lore please. 🙏🏾

Where do you guys live?

Do you have any pets?

Who cooks more?

Who cleans more?

Do you guys want babiessss?

I need to know MORE.

Good morrow, Sunflower :3 🫶🏾💛💛💛

I would love to talk about more Ichidere lore with u uwu <3.

Where do you guys live?

We live in a nice house in Japan with a gate in the front. It's a large one story abode with a pretty garden. It is quite licherally this house, but i hate the front of that house so we're gonna pretend the outside looks like the one below.

also below are a few photos from angles not included in the link :3

Do you have any pets?

To be honest I never really thought about this one before 👀. But i think it would be nice to have at least one owo. And y'know what our pet would be??? A HEDGEHOG. Specifically an African Pygmy Hedgehog (the ones people have as pets!). THEY ARE MY FAVORITE LITTLE GUYS EVER!! 🥺🦔

(if i could have one as a pet irl i SO would, but it is not allowed in my state RIP).

Look at these little GUYS!!!! LOOK AT HIM STANCE :((((( <3

AND IF I GOT AN ALBINO HEDGIE AND NAMED HIM KATSUKI???? FUSSY LITTLE DUDE WHO HISSES A LOT??? (Their hisses are literally just aggressive sniffing btw lmao they are SOOOOOO cute)

LOOK AT HIM EEP 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺. And hedgie snores are so fuckin adorable 😭

Who cooks more?

I'd say we come pretty close to cooking the same amount! But I think I cook just sliiiiightly more. Also I do some baking, which he doesn't tend to do owo.

But I like the idea of us spending time in the kitchen together <3

Like maybe sometimes he'll help me bake or we both experiment when making a meal together.

I also also looooove the idea of him teaching me how to make more Japanese or Asian foods! Since, coming from America, I of course grew up making more western foods and Americanized Asian foods.

AUGH imagining his first time trying so many of the foods I love. Like Black soul foods I grew up eating 🥺. And he just loves them so much. So when the seasons are right we work together to go hunting for the needed ingredients which aren't as easy to come by in Japan 🥺🥺🥺.

Also idk about his spice tolerance but uuuuhhh... If it ain't too great we're gonna have to get them numbers up 👀👀👀👀👀 LMAO little by little uwu

Who cleans more?

We both clean, but I feel like I take care of the smaller things and let Ichigo take care of the bigger things if that makes sense?

Like I keep our kitchen pretty clean. There are never dishes in the sink on my watch. And I'm always wiping down the counters n table after someone eats. I also wipe down our sinks and mirrors in the bathroom with each use. Vacuum rooms in the house every once in a while.

I know how to clean the showers and toilets, but I tend to procrastinate on it bc its so much WORK, so Ichi usually takes care of it. Sweeping and mopping the whole house is something we do together, but because it's also so big a task I typically kinda avoid doing it for long periods. So Ichigo usually has to initiate it.

We both take care of the garbage, but most times I am gathering everything inside that needs to be taken out then Ichi is the one to bring it outside (bc i am a somewhat a germaphobe hELP).

As far as laundry, Ichi washes his clothes more often and I wash the bedsheets more often. A bitch will procrastinate the hell out of washing and putting away her own clothes AUGH. So Ichi makes it an activity we do together so it isn't as painful enourhnuiohbneiokr.

Do you guys want babiessss?

Yes indeed we do want babies <333333

Since most of this talk has been surrounding the proposal, they have not come yet BUT in the ichidere selfshipping multiverse, over the years I've been building it, he and I have come to have 5 kids in total :3

You can learn a little more belowwwwww uwu + mention of the kiddies (amongst other ichidere nuggets) + baby names! + Ichigo as a dad (amongst other nuggets about him)

Thank you for stopping by to learn more uwu. Your hunger for my self ship is so so encouraging for sharing my self indulgence <33333.

Kith 😘💋💋💋💋

#ichidere #kweenkatsuki fics 🌸#twy’s inbox 💌

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sirowsky-stories · 2 months

Text

The Flowers Always Know

Chapter 6 - The Fucking Flowers

Description: Coming home wasn't exactly relaxing at first, given how abruptly you'd had to leave the house three months earlier. But as it turned out, the cleaning wasn't your biggest inconvenience.

**Beware! Author chooses NOT to display warnings on the individual chapters of this story. Read at your own risk!**

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Word Count: 2769 (1038 words added) Masterlist (this story)

The bills might have been paid, but the house was still a mess, to say the least. You’d left in a hurry that evening, after things had taken an increasingly sharp turn towards very bad, shortly after your dinner, consisting only of a light pea soup, which you’d been thankful for when it had come back up again some ten minutes later. You’d only just made it to the bathroom, but after the food had been coughed up, a large amount of fresh blood had followed. And although you’d known you were in trouble even before that moment, the blood had finally convinced you to seek help.

Why you still hadn’t called for that ambulance was anyone’s guess, but then, you’d never liked being a bother. And you had been perfectly capable of walking out to the cab. The real problem had been that in the twenty minutes the drive had taken, you’d gotten a lot worse. Your entire body had started hurting, every muscle movement feeling like needles stinging you from the inside, and every attempt to relax met by cramps. You’d started bleeding from the nose and ears, and just as you’d gotten to the hospital, you’d begun to get spasms in your spine and legs, quickly escalading to convulsions.

When you’d staggered into that emergency-room, you’d done it truly convinced you’d leave it in a coffin.

You shuddered slightly with the memory, as you walked through the house, opening all the blinds and pulling all the curtains back again. It was already late, and thus dark outside, but you wanted to wake up to a house which bathed in sunlight in the morning. The kitchen was probably the worst, in terms of the amount of cleaning needing to be done. The remnants of your cooking from that evening were still on the counter and in the dishes, and the amount of mold growing in there was somewhat disturbing.

You couldn’t leave the fungus until morning; you’d lose every ounce of appetite waking up to that crap. So, you set about throwing away everything which had been left out on the counters and in the sink, including plates and cutlery, and then quickly scrubbed all the open surfaces clean, before handwashing some of the glasses, mugs, and bowls, having gotten dusty even sitting in the cabinets in the four months you’d been gone.

Once the kitchen felt usable again, you went to the bathroom to check what state that was in, pleased to find it wasn’t too bad. You flushed all the pipes and let the water run in the sink and the shower for a good half-hour to clean them out and begin to work away the smell of stagnated water. The toilet needed a decent scrub too, and since you’d be using it before bed, it couldn’t wait until morning.

And the bed also needed tending to before you’d feel okay sleeping in it. You ripped all the bedding out, putting the sheets in the washing machine on the longest program it had, and then taking the duvet, pillow and even mattress outside to air them out, using a carpet beater to make sure you got all the dust out of the fabrics. All of which was why it was after midnight when you’d finally gotten the new sheets into bed and settled in for the night.

Several sharp raps on your door woke you after what seemed like mere seconds. But the sun was up, meaning it had to be morning, so you looked at your wristwatch and sighed. It was 6:15 am. Who the fuck would be there at that hour? The only people who even knew you were back home were the people at HQ, and they had no reason to bother you. Grumbling into your pillow, you turned over and decided whoever it was, they’d have to come back at a more decent hour.

“Come on now, mujer, I don’t have all day,” a strong and familiar voice sounded, and you physically jumped under the covers, sitting up on reflex.

It was Anita Moreno. She wasn’t shouting, just applying a good amount of force to her voice, but it was still enough to practically echo through every corner of your house. And it was somehow loud enough to make you feel a size smaller than usual. There were actual legends surrounding this woman, concerning her role in the creation of the Heroics organization, what her powers were, what she did at HQ at all anymore. But for the moment, you were mostly concerned with why the fuck she was at your door.

She was not someone to be kept waiting, you knew that much, so you scrambled out of bed and grabbed a robe which you put on whilst stumbling towards the front door. You had no idea what you looked like, but you hoped there was an air of scarecrow to you. Because while you’d found her intriguing when you’d first met her the day before, she was little more than an annoyance right now. You weren’t a morning person to begin with, and especially not today when your body was tired and sore from the tests.

“I’m not gonna ask if you know what time it is, because you obviously do, and you obviously don’t care,” you grumbled while the door fell open and Anita came into view, looking fresh and sharp-eyed as always. “So, don’t beat around the bush and just tell me what the hell you want so I can go back to bed and finish waking up.”

“Are you always this cheerful in the morning?” she said with a little smirk, further souring your mood.

“Yep.”

“I’ll be sure to let my son know.”

“What does my morning mood have to do with Marcus?” you asked, genuinely perplexed.

“Nothing. Yet…” she countered, and you felt your eyebrows knit together so tightly it hurt your forehead.

What the hell did that mean? But then you remembered Marcus’ warning about her being manipulative, and realized she might just be trying to distract you, so you let it go, refocusing on the woman before you instead.

“What do you want, Mrs. Moreno?”

“Tell me, what kind of flowers do you like?”

Nope. Not a chance. You glared at her, feeling your entire body slump, because you were not going to play along with this. You had no clue what she meant by asking you that, but whatever game she was up to, you were not going to play it at six-fucking-fifteen in the morning.

“Have a nice day, Mrs. Moreno,” you blankly stated, but when you started closing the door, she suddenly barged right past you.

Completely unbothered, she walked into your kitchen while you scrambled after her, shocked and increasingly furious.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” you growled, following her but staying far enough away that her cane wouldn’t reach you, because you were abruptly not at all sure what this woman might decide to do.

“Don’t cuss at me, mujer,” she calmly countered, succeeding only in further angering you.

“If you want me to treat you politely, then don’t barge into my fucking house uninvited,” you corrected, just as she sat down on one of the stools by the breakfast table side of the kitchen island.

“Calm down, I’ll be out of your hair in a minute, I just want you to answer a few questions,” she waved dismissively at you, as if her intrusion wasn’t even of consequence.

Well, it was to you. In fact, it was about as rude a behaviour as you’d ever encountered.

“You’ve got some nerve.”

“I’m old, mujer, I don’t have time for intermissions. Now, tell me, what kind of flowers do you like?”

You were fuming, but this woman was a super. Whatever her powers were, she was still stronger than you, which meant she wasn’t leaving until she decided to leave. So, you took a breath.

“Dahlias,” you answered while crossing your arms, not actually sure it was a truthful answer, but it was the first one which came to mind.

“Interesting choice. Why?”

“What does it matter? What do you want from me?” you challenged, but the woman acted as though you hadn’t spoken at all.

“Do you know the origin of Dahlias?” she asked, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Why? Am I to expect a pop-quiz banging on my door tomorrow?”

“The Dahlia came from my ancestors, the Aztecs, and they called it The War Flower, based on a myth involving a goddess birthing a warrior after sleeping with a flower against her heart,” she carried on, completely ignoring your sarcasm. “Today, it’s known simply as the king of summer flowers, because of its wide range of shapes, sizes and colours. But it has something of a demanding presence, don’t you think? You can never walk past a Dahlia without seeing it. And yet, it doesn’t ask you for much.”

Her gaze drifted away from you while she spoke, eventually landing on the floor somewhere in front of your feet, while a soft smile spread across her lips, as if she’d gotten lost in some imaginary world. Not that you were at all interested in her imagination right then.

“Do you have a point, or is this becoming a lecture on the mythology of flora? Because I will go back to bed and ignore you until you leave,” you challenged, snapping her attention back to you, and the present.

“It’s an observation,” she shrugged, but somehow, you felt like she was trying to hide something much more significant to do with her temporary space-out, although what it might be, you didn’t even wanna guess at. “What’s your opinion on supers?”

“Are you serious?” you groaned, but then unfurled your arms and waved a dismissive hand in her general direction. “Ugh, forget it, of course you are. Fine. I have nothing against them, but I don’t adore or idolize them. They’re flawed just like the rest of us.”

“What’s Marcus’ flaws?” she asked then, and her voice softened at the mention of her son, which took some of your irritation out, and you tried to give an honest answer.

“He’s… too kind for his own good sometimes. He lets people walk all over him if he thinks it might keep the peace,” you said, intending to leave it at that, but then you remembered how he’d sounded that first time you’d heard him talk about what had been done to you.

The children who had been sacrificed in the name of scientific progress.

“He tries to carry the whole world by himself if he can. So ready to take responsibility for anything bad that could’ve been prevented if he’d just known about it sooner. As though he thinks his powers come with a price, or something. And if he doesn’t do enough good with them… he doesn’t deserve them.”

You were almost tearful by the end, but when you looked up at Anita, she was smiling.

“Good. You’re hired,” she chirped, and then hopped off the stool like an excited kid. “I’ll expect you at Headquarters 7am tomorrow morning. Don’t be late.”

Stunned into complete inertia, you just sat there gawking blindly at the room before you, because… What the actual fuck just happened? She patted your shoulder as she passed you on her way out of the kitchen, and she’d almost reached the door by the time you unfroze and ran out to the hallway.

“Wait a minute, what the hell are you talking about?! Hired for what, and why? Do you even have the authority to recruit new staff?” you blabbered, not sure which question was most pressing to you in the moment.

But it didn’t matter, because Anita didn’t answer any of them. She just turned around and kept looking at you with that same smile on her face, as if she knew some obvious detail you didn’t, and it made you feel stupid.

“What makes you think I wanna work for you, anyway? I certainly haven’t asked you for any job.”

“No, you haven’t,” she finally replied, and she didn’t sound smug, like you’d expected. She just sounded happy. “But you need one, and I’ve got one. Take it or leave it. If you’re not there by seven, I’ll know what you chose.”

She nodded politely and then walked away, while you stood in the doorway, watching her disappear into the back of a black SUV, the door held open by Heroics staff in their plain black suits. They treated her like royalty, and you found yourself wondering if maybe she was more important than you’d ever realized. But then they drove off, and your irritation returned.

There was no way in hell you could’ve ever dreamed this shit up, so apparently, it had actually happened. You shook your head, trying to dislodge some of the stagnant thoughts up there. But upon failing, you decided there was no point in going back to bed now, with your entire brain buzzing, so you might as well have breakfast and get the cleaning going.

As you went to the bathroom for your morning toilet, you caught sight of your reflection in the mirror and smiled to yourself. There was definitely an air of scarecrow. Once you were dressed and a little less dishevelled, you headed back to the kitchen to make some tea, unusually turning the TV on while you worked, just to have something to distract you from thinking about what had just transpired with Anita.

You’d always loved coffee before, never started the day without it ever since you were sixteen, but your body seemed to have become oversensitive to it after your cellular breakdown. About a month earlier, you’d tried your first cup and it had really done a number on you. You’d been hyperactive for hours with uncontrollable twitches and insistent trembling in your hands throughout. And giving it a second try a week later, even with just half of a small cup had resulted in the same outcome, so you’d accepted that your coffee-days were over. Thankfully though, you were actually really starting to like tea, especially the spicier types.

Just as your cup was ready, the news showed a highlight reel from the Heroics latest outing, and you found yourself glancing at the footage, looking for a glimpse of Marcus. You saw him flash by as he fought someone, or something, you weren’t sure, and then again when the fighting was over. He looked so confident and strong when he was out there. When he had an enemy in front of him, and a clear task. It was enticing to watch.

Oh, who were you trying to fool? It was fucking hot.

You shook your head at yourself and turned the TV off as you finished your breakfast. There was a lot to do to get the house in order, and you had a plan for how to get it all done as effectively as possible. The problem was that a certain uninvited guest kept popping into your head, distracting you with thoughts about flowers, not to mention what the hell that job was all about.

So, by lunchtime, you hadn’t gotten anywhere close to where you’d hoped to be. You’d managed to wipe down all the surfaces where dust accumulated, and the vacuuming was done. But you’d hoped to have washed the floors and beaten the carpets and cleaned the refrigerator and freezer by then. Oh, well. Rome and all that.

You decided to have pizza for lunch and called in an order. But later, as you were eating said pizza, you had something of a lightning moment, when you realized that you didn’t need to sit there and just fidget and wonder and worry about what you were gonna do tomorrow. You could simply go back to HQ and talk to Marcus. He’d only be happy to see you, he’d said as much when you’d gone to find him to say goodbye yesterday.

It hadn’t been a very long exchange, since you’d been eager to get going, knowing there’d be things you’d have to do before going to bed. Not to mention how hard it was to say goodbye to the man who’d been with you almost every second since you’d woken up. But he had said he’d miss you and that you’d always be welcome to come back for a visit. So, why not? After all, if anyone could tell you what Mrs. Moreno was up to, it’d be her son.

#marcus moreno fanfiction #marcus moreno x female reader #marcus moreno x reader #we can be heroes fic #we can be heroes au #au fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #sirowsky stories #superhero stories

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bichettes · 8 months

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dreaming big (league) || chapter ten

word count: 2625 summary: a bittersweet summer turns into fall and a baby is born. warnings: post-birth/postpartum complications, medical inaccuracies, mentions of bleeding and blood loss author’s note: you've been warned. enjoy! i've never said it before but feel free to give this work some love with likes/reblogs! it can also be found over on my ao3 here 🪴 prev | next

Summer moved at a molasses pace; slow, sticky (thanks to the humidity), and seemingly never ending. Carrie normally loved summer in the city but being in the middle of her pregnancy during the season brought on an irritation for it that she normally wouldn’t have had. She was hot all the time now which made her sweat more and nothing bothered her more than being hot and sweaty. The short walks she took from the subway to the restaurant were somewhat of a challenge, leaving the young mom to be out of breath with sweat on her crown by the time she reached the front door. She had to start bringing an extra shirt to change into for work.

Carrie split her summertime between the restaurant, baseball (her team and the Rockets), and friends and family. It was a busy time and she was determined to make the most of her last summer before she became a mom. And she did.

When she wasn’t working, she was helping her team with practice as best she could; going over strategies and different plays or even just helping set up and clean before and after practice. Her coaches were grateful for the extra hand they had in her, they needed it. The team wasn’t doing so bad but they weren’t where they wanted to be at that point in the season. But once they had Carrie in her more advisory role, things seemed to look up for them. If baseball or work weren’t on her schedule for the day, she’d hang out with her friends or family. They’d go shopping for themselves or the baby, go to the beach if it wasn’t too humid out, or watch Rockets games at RBC Park or at a restaurant. Her summer was booked and busy. It kept her mind from wandering to the what-ifs and what-could-bes.

There were also a bunch of summer birthdays that needed celebrating, including Carrie’s 19th. As happy as she was, it was also a bittersweet feeling for her. It brought on an old conversation she had with Beck the previous year about getting wasted together with their friends on her 19th birthday to celebrate her and the end of summer. As she sat in her backyard with all her friends and family around her and a can of Nestea in her hand, she couldn’t help but think of him at that moment.

Carrie gathered the dirty dishes from the table set up on the deck and carried them into the house. When she walked into the house, she found Beck waving around a serving spoon in the air as he told her papa a story as he washed up. Beck was given the role of putting away the dishes that were sitting in the drying rack for some time. Carrie laid what she was holding down onto the counter next to the sink.

“There’s the birthday girl!” Beckett said loudly, pulling her in by her tank.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and brought her in close so that she was lined up with his side. She could smell the drinks on him he had been downing all afternoon. But that could also just be the one can of Somersby he had accidentally spilled onto himself when her little cousin, PJ, ran into him. He looked down at her with half lidded eyes.

“You are so gone, Beck.” She commented. He squeezed her shoulders and pressed a kiss into her loosely curled hair. Andrew and Catherine shared a smile as more wine was poured into the adults’ glasses.

“For your information, I am not ‘gone.’ You are just sober.”

“That makes no sense.”

“You don’t make any sense.” He parroted back.

“Beckett, can you please drink some water?” Michael asked his son. Before he could open his mouth, Andrew was pushing a glass of ice water towards him. He downed it in a few gulps.

“We’re getting drunk for your birthday next year.”

“All I ask is that you guys are drunk here so we know you’re safe.” Severino commented. Beckett nodded.

“Yes, we are going to drink and get your dads wasted.”

Her papa shook his head. “You are too much, Beckett.”

Her 19th came and went, with her friends and family drinking on her behalf because she couldn’t. She didn’t really mind that she would have to wait until baby girl popped out of her. It was quite amusing watching them getting drunker as day turned into night. Her uncles drunkenly sang her a few power ballads and her parents gave her a slightly slurred but heartfelt speech. Carrie split her time with her cousins and her friends watching them play basketball in the driveway or card games in the living room. It was a nice time overall.

And with that, summer 2017 ended, and in came the fall with its early sunsets and slight bite to the air. Baseball season was also at its end. The optimism that had emerged in early June was long gone as the Thunderbirds were going to miss the provincial playoffs for the first time in four years. It upset Carrie seeing her teammates一 her friends一 cut up about their season coming to an end so soon. They weren’t used to being on the losing side. And the Toronto Rockets? They dragged themselves to the end of the season. It was their fifth losing season in a row, going 63-99, making them dead last in the American League East. It was something Carrie had unfortunately gotten used to. She still loved the team with all her heart but they needed a big clean out from the front office, to the coaching staff, to the players. They weren’t the same winning team anymore from when she was in elementary school and it seemed like they were still holding onto their glory days. Nothing wrong with that but it won’t get you a World Series.

September went by uneventfully. Carrie’s third trimester began and her prenatal appointments were more often. Each one brought no concerns to Dr. Miller who was pleased with Carrie’s efforts and the growth of her baby girl. She was still able to work at the restaurant as she was nearing the end but both her dad and her papa had strictly only let her do tasks that she could do while sitting down. That had been the only kind of “special treatment” Carrie had gotten for as long as she had worked.

Thanksgiving celebrations were had. Their household was in charge of the festivities this time around, her papa and dad’s families all coming to the house late in the afternoon of October 9 to celebrate the day of thanks. Carrie would’ve liked to help but the moment her dad saw her pick up a knife to help cut the vegetables for the pancit, she was banished to her room until family started arriving. They had a feast made of both Filipino and Scottish dishes for both sides that everyone enjoyed. Halloween came and Carrie spent that night with her feet kicked up onto the coffee table, watching old episodes of Scooby-Doo while wearing a skeleton printed onesie that had a skeleton baby on it. Her dad had to be in charge of giving out candy this year (not that he minded).

By the time All Souls’ Day came around, Carrie was two weeks out from her due date, belly round and looking like it was ready to pop at any second. Her parents had suggested skipping out on visiting her mom at the cemetery this one time but the look she’d given them could have sent them six feet under as well. To make her comfortable during the visit they brought a folding lawn chair instead of having her sit on the blanket like normal. Her parents walked ahead of her and set up as she waddled over to her mom’s grave. She had to stop a few times whenever she felt baby girl kicking around in her. Carrie laid a flat hand on the top of her tummy.

“Peanut, I know you’re excited to see lola but I have to get to her first and I can’t do that if you keep kicking.” After one or two prods, she stopped. “Thank you.”

Her dads were looking at her warily by the time she reached the grave.

“I’m okay, peanut just got a little excited about coming.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, papa.”

Carrie walked to the front of the head stone and laid her palm flat against it, index finger tracing the inscription. She said a little prayer and kissed the stone. Although she had no memory of her mother, Carrie had felt more connected to her than she had ever did before. Her parents shared more stories of Lena, especially ones from when she was pregnant with Carrie herself. They even showed her old photos and home videos and it amazed Carrie just how similar they looked with their round bellies and glowing faces. Her dads have commented on it a few times. After they spent their day with Lena, it was pretty much a waiting game.

She never gave much thought on what would happen when she went into labour until she got closer to her due date. Since she was home 24/7 now, Carrie imagined walking through the house or getting off the couch and her water breaking then. But no, that’s not how it happened. It happened early in the morning of November 15. Carrie had turned over in bed and felt a pop followed by a trickle in between her legs.

“Oh fuck.” She sat herself up slowly and turned on her lamp. Rolo’s head popped up from her bed. “Rolo, can you get papa?”

The German shepherd looked at her before jumping off the bed towards her parents’ room. She could hear him barking down the hall. Both her dads came into her room moments later.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Her dad asked.

Before she could answer, her papa turned on her bedroom light and they both saw the mess on the bed. Her papa rushed over to her.

“Your water break?” he asked. She nodded. “Okay, okay. Alright.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “Let’s go.”

Severino had the responsibility of bringing Carrie to the car and staying with her in the backseat while Andrew’s was to grab her go bag and driving to the hospital. Considering it wasn’t even 3 AM on a Wednesday, they made it to Mount Sinai in record time. She was lucky that she was somehow able to get a private room. Her dad made friends with the nurses while her papa set up shop.

This was going to take some time.

14 hours and however many cups of ice chips later, Carrie was pushing. Her feet were propped up in the stirrups, parents on either side of her giving her words of encouragement while her nurse and Dr. Miller coached her through it.

“You’re doing so good, baby.” Andrew wiped the sweat off Carrie’s brow. Severino brushed her hair back.

“Okay, Carrie, just a couple more. We’re gonna need a big one here.” Dr. Miller instructed. She shook her head.

“I can’t do this一 it hurts.” Carrie sobbed.

Severino brought his head down to hers. “Yes you can.” He felt her squeeze her hands. “You got this, anak. Me and daddy are right here to help you.”

Carrie let out a cry and bore down as hard as she could.

“Good! Good job. I just need one more, baby girl is almost out.”

And she pushed.

“Here she is, mama.”

Her nurse, Jenna, came over with her baby all wrapped up in a white blanket and a pink hat on her head. But Carrie couldn’t focus. She felt dizzy and like she was going to pass out at any second. Her head was swimming. She tried her best to look at her baby but it was like her eyes couldn’t focus properly. Her dad took one look at her and knew something was wrong.

“Carrie?”

The tone of Andrew’s voice alerted Dr. Miller. She immediately walked over to Carrie and lifted up her blanket. That’s when she saw the blood saturating the pads underneath her. The doctor alerted the team around her and they kicked it into high gear. Her dads asked what was happening and it was explained to them simply that their daughter was losing too much blood fast and they needed to figure out the source of the bleeding. They were ushered out of the room to give the nurses and doctors space to work on Carrie. Severino held Andrew’s hand tightly.

“This can’t be happening again.” Severino cried.

Andrew held onto his husband. “Shh, it’s not, Sev. It isn’t.”

He couldn’t even begin to think about losing Carrie. Losing her would be the end of him and it would be the end of Severino. Andrew comforted his husband while they tried to drown out the commotion in the room.

Thankfully, Dr. Miller and the nurses were able to find the source of the bleeding and stabilize it. Severino was barely paying any attention to the explanation her doctor was giving them. He only caught the words ‘tear’ and ‘tissues’ but that was about it. All he could focus on was Carrie who was sleeping peacefully while she was being transfused with blood. Jenna wheeled back in the baby as their conversation with Dr. Miller was winding down. They thanked her for all that she did for them and Carrie and she left.

Andrew and Severino walked over to the plastic crib where their granddaughter was also sleeping. She had the longest eyelashes and cutest little nose they had ever seen. They both felt like they were going to cry again, this time for a better reason. Severino picked her up first. He cooed at her when she began fussing.

“Hi, baby, hi. I’m your lolo.” He kissed the top of her head. She had that newborn smell to her. Severino rocked her for a few moments before passing her off to Andrew. He was speechless.

Severino watched his husband shed a few tears as he held their granddaughter. A memory of Andrew holding Carrie for the very first time made its way to the surface of his mind.

“She’s beautiful,” Andrew commented through a watery smile. He said the same thing about Carrie.

When Carrie finally woke up, her parents very gently told her what happened to her after the baby came out. She remembered the pushing and them announcing her baby was out. She even remembered Jenna bringing her over so she could hold her.

“I- I wanted to hold her but- but I felt so dizzy and weak. My eyes were blurry too.” Carrie wiped away the tears from her cheeks, careful not to bother the IV line giving her fluids.

“Yeah, those symptoms were caused by the blood loss.” Andrew explained. “Dr. Miller and your nurses did a good job.”

Carrie nodded but didn’t say anything further.

“What’s wrong, anak?” Severino asked. Carrie let out a shaky breath.

“I couldn’t even hold her as soon as she came out.” She cried

“Oh, honey.” Andrew stroked her hair. “I know you’re still coming to terms with what happened.” Carrie nodded. “But you’re awake now and you could hold her. Do you want to hold peanut?”

“Yeah.” She wiped her face again.

Severino picked her up from the crib and placed her into Carrie’s waiting arms. He gave her a few pointers on how to improve her hold.

“The most important thing is you protect her head.”

Severino and Andrew watched on as their daughter held her daughter for the very first time. A fresh set of tears worked its way through Carrie. She used a finger to stroke her chubby cheek.

“Hi, peanut. I’m your mama. Sorry it took me some time to get here.” The baby continued to sleep. She looked up at her dads, who were trying to stop themselves from crying some more. “She’s perfect.”

“Yeah, she is.”

“Have you thought of a name yet?”

Carrie nodded. “Penelope. Penelope Rose.”

#tricia writes #writing #dbl

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ofpineapplesanddawns · 2 years

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a drabble of any ineffable husbands fluff if you're up to it (if you need more to go on it can be in Aziraphale's bookshop)

I've been drawing stuff with them in their cottage in the South Downs, so I'm gonna go with that.

On with the fic!

Crowley liked the little slice of the world they now lived in, and that included the little town nearby, where he'd go about causing minor problems for old time's sake, and getting the shopping down. He had left Aziraphale alone for a few hours, which was perfectly fine, the two of them loved being around one another but also liked their space.

The demon came to a stop in front of their cottage, parking the Bentley. He stepped out with the shopping bags, looking over his car real quick. She was in need of a wash, the country roads kicked up a lot of dust.

Yes, Crowley could just miracle it away, like he did in the city, but he enjoyed cleaning, especially when it wasn't him stress cleaning. He made a note to come out later in the day to get the Bentley cleaned up, but after he spent some time with his husband.

He stopped in front of the door, about to put his key in the lock, when he tasted something in the air. It was sweet, strong, and warm.

Ah, Aziraphale was baking.

Crowley really hoped that he was using the actual packets of yeast he had in the kitchen and not... whatever grew on some of his books. Again.

Open the door, Crowley could smell and taste the aromas of baked goods, and felt how warm the cottage was. "Angel?" He called out as he walked towards the kitchen, finding the place a bit of a mess with bowls and dishes, utensils and baking items scattered all over their counters and island. "Got a wild hair up your arse and decided to break out the flour, angel?" He commented as he set the bags on the island.

"Oh!" Aziraphale looked away from where he had been bent over, staring into the little window of the oven. "Ah, yes, sorry! I had nearly forgotten I promised the ladies at the local book club that I'd bake for the farmer's market tomorrow. They're doing a charity thing and wanted me to contribute with some of my tasty cakes and such!"

Crowley glanced about after pushing his glasses up to rest on his head. "Yeah, I can see that. I think you made enough for everyone in all the towns and villages around here."

"Oh, hush." Aziraphale huffed and opened the oven, pulling out a pan that contained what looked to be muffins. Crowley could taste bananas in the air, ah, banana nut. He might snatch one of those up.

"Made anything for us to enjoy for tea?" Crowley asked as he put things away with a wave of his hand, too lazy to bother with the task himself.

The angel perked up. "Yes! I made a delightful loaf of honeyed bread for us to try with those delightful jams you experimented with the other day! I'm really looking forward to the pear one."

Crowley made a face. "You can have that whole mess, I'll stick to the strawberry and raspberry ones. But still, sounds good, want me to get things ready while you deal with your mess?"

Aziraphale nodded and the two got about to work, the sound of music from another room, sounded like one of Aziraphale's records, was playing. Crowley glanced over at his husband, who was moving about, grabbing used dishes to put in the sink to be washed after lunch, with a smile on his face.

Sometimes it caught him off-guard to find himself in this situation, where he didn't fear Heaven and Hell finding them together, where they were living together in retirement. And married, to boot.

"What's got you smiling like that, dear?" Aziraphale asked, catching Crowley's attention.

"Ah? Well, just... thinkin', 's all." He turned back to starting the electric kettle.

The angel moved closer, pressing close. "Thinking about what?"

"Don't make me say it, angel..." He groaned. "I've got a reputation."

"I'm sure you do." Aziraphale said, the bastard.

Crowley huffed. "I was just thinkin' about how lucky I am that I can do stuff like this with you, it's... it's nice."

This put a huge smile on the other man's face. "It is, isn't it? Now, get the kettle started, dear boy, so we can have some nibbles!" He then kissed Crowley on the cheek and went back to the sink.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #anthony j crowley #aziraphale #john's drabbles

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army-of-bee-assassins · 1 year

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very rambly sorta laying things out and thinking through things below the cut. about my housing situation. i sorta want advice/opinions but also do not feel obligated to read through all this word vomit

quick background: since i graduated high school almost 10 years ago, i have not lived in any one place longer than 12 months. i hate moving but i keep doing it. and i moved into this place back in august and i want to move again in january (i signed a shorter lease). trying to reason through whether this decision is justified/worth it or not.

i found my current housing at the last minute before i moved states. i was scrambling and just had to take what i could find. it's the upstairs of a lady's house. it's like 300ish sqft with a bathroom. kitchen and laundry downstairs. she has a cat, and chai does not play nice, so the door to the downstairs remains closed and chai cannot leave. it's a bit more expensive than i would've liked but it does include all utilities so really when factoring that in it's somewhat reasonable i guess.

now honestly i didn't hate the lack of space as much as i thought i would. but it is pretty cramped. i had couches that i had to get rid of (they were old and junky but i liked them). i had to bring all my plants in for the cold and now it's even more cramped. chai, in particular, seems stir crazy. she's bouncing off the walls almost every night. i've been wanting to get a second cat for a while because i think she needs a friend (with a properly-done, very slow and gradual introduction so they get along), obviously i can't get a second cat here at all. it's just so small. and i can open only three tiny windows in the whole place (there are a lot more windows that don't open - the house is 100 years old) and something always smells, whether it's chai's wet food or something weird with the plants (i think i have some kinda fungus in the soil) or even chai pissing in the plants (which she somehow managed despite my attempts to cover up the soil on the big pots that she had access to).

something i did not anticipate to be as much of an issue as it was is the kitchen. this is honestly one of my biggest sticking points. it's the landlord's kitchen. i'm paying rent, but it's her kitchen. she has a way she keeps her kitchen. and it is very much not the way i would keep my kitchen. she has the absolute tiniest fucking trashcan for the kitchen below the sink that has to be emptied like twice a week because it's so small. and even though there are two sinks, she uses one ENTIRELY as a drying rack. so there is functionally just one small sink. because she's like. obsessed with not using up any counter space (she has explained that as her reasoning for the way multiple things are arranged in this kitchen). even though there's plenty of fucking counter space!!! there's a whole fucking kitchen island too! i had soooo much less counter space in my last apt and i managed to cook meals just fine. and she doesn't even cook much. there's also dishes. so again, i live here but there's still very much the "not my kitchen" feeling of all of this so i'm always cleaning and loading dishes as soon as i'm done with them. there's a dishwasher which she uses a lot so that's easy, though she often leaves dirty dishes on the counter for half the day before loading it. when i cook, i clean up right away (and wash most things by hand). when she cooks, she often leaves the dishes for a bit and then loads as much as possible (including pots and pans) into the dishwasher. she's also always the one to start the dishwasher, because the one time i mentioned maybe starting it, she wanted to check herself that it was really full because "it's the appliance that costs [her] the most money". like yeah. it fills up so fast bc you put such large things in there that you could just wash in the sink. you're the main reason it's costing you so much money.

just in general, things about cleaning and stuff has been just. no communication whatsoever about what my responsibilities are until there's an issue. and then she will be like "btw make sure you do x". i've mentioned this before but i really feel like a set list of "this is what i do and when and this is what you do and when" would've been really really helpful. but there's been none of that.

really the landlord is a perfectly nice lady. she could have been truly ten million times worse. we do have some differing opinions and philosophies though. i don't want to call her passive aggressive, but to my autistic ass i keep thinking that's what some of the previously mentioned cleaning stuff is. like she leaves something for as long as possible hoping i will figure out what it is she wants and do it, creating lots of anxiety for me. but! there is a substantial possibility that i am fully 100% imagining this and just creating anxiety for myself. one thing that is kinda weird tho is she hates the smell of the breakfast i cook every morning and has been strange about it from the beginning. first she just told me to turn on the stove fan and close the kitchen door. then she added on opening a window in the next room. and then turning on a rotating fan in the kitchen. and she still lights incense (hate this one) and boils lemons sometimes after i finish cooking.

in general she's just kinda particular about certain things and it makes me anxious that she won't tell me until it's already become a problem.

last thing, and maybe the largest motivation for me wanting to move out: i have so much goddamn anxiety about living with other people that i am not close friends or family with. it's not for lack of trying. i have lived with roommates for the vast majority of my adult life (including a 10 month term in americorps where i lived in close quarters with 9 other young adults). the apt i had before i moved here was actually the first time i had ever lived by myself in my life (and i loved it so fucking much). i mostly have anxiety about the kitchen. my room is always the safe place i retreat to (though in my current place i can't be loud bc the door to downstairs is very thin - that's another issue). but the kitchen - i just want to be by myself but i can't be. when the landlord is home she's often moving through it to do laundry or chores or whatnot. i feel like i can't listen to music or podcasts bc she'll hear it in the next room where she's watching tv. so i sequester myself in my room until she's not home. this has always been my pattern with roommates. wait until they leave and then cook what you were wanting to cook. when making my breakfast, i want to be alone, but i can't always manage that. depends on her work schedule. the landlord works full time but will just randomly have days off or work from home. i can't predict it at all, and that drives me just absolutely batshit. it's one thing for me to know the weekend is coming and prepare myself (and i'm always dreading it anyway knowing i won't ever be home alone). but it's another when it's wednesday and i go downstairs thinking i can cook my breakfast in peace but she's actually home. and i know how ridiculous i'm being! saying i can cook "in peace" as if she's actually doing anything to disrupt me! she's not! but my brain is bad and i just can't feel relaxed! i just feel extremely on-guard and it's exhausting.

so all in all, this adds up to why - pretty much from the very get-go - i was thinking i would move this january. given the extra time, as well as the ability to visit places since i'm no longer looking in a city i don't live in, i would find myself a new place to live. by myself - despite that being the financially more expensive option. well i did a lot of research. i drove around visiting places. i found some options. there's a few that would be just slightly cheaper, or maybe around the same price when you factor in utilities. they are not terrible but not great. there was one i was really liking the look of but then they jacked the fucking price up. well there was another one that is juuust under the current price i'm paying. but ofc that doesn't include any utilities so it's probably at least $100-150 more expensive then where i'm at. but it's easily the nicest option within my budget. a nice duplex with lots of space and my own backyard. i'm leaning towards this one now that the price jacked up on the other one. bc the prices are pretty close on those two now, and if i'm gonna be paying that much i feel like i may as well pay that much for the much nicer option.

and that gets into finances. i don't have a job, because i was told that time commitment of the masters program i'm in makes holding down a job difficult, and most people end up getting graduate assistantships anyway. well i don't have a graduate assistantship yet, and the max amount i can get in fed loans covers tuition and that's it. so i've been living off of savings all semester. and i did everything i fucking could to get a GA for the spring (which cuts tuition in half), though i was told from the get-go that it's rare to get a new one in the spring. i met with the lady who awards them and explained my situation, i made straight A's (they do consider grades), and i volunteered to work in a professor's research lab. no such luck. apparently it is way more common to get your first GA in your first summer semester, so that's likely when i'll get one. so i get to go another semester with full out-of-state tuition and living off of savings. i did the math a while ago and i'm gonna run out of money, whether i move or not (only difference is how soon it happens). i'm fortunate though, my parents will lend me whatever i need to get through till the summer. i don't really want to get a job, since starting in the spring i will have even more responsibilities (working in the clinic and doing school screenings) on top of class, but i feel like i should get a job anyway. because it feels ungrateful to just ask for money from my parents without even trying to support myself. though my dad made no indication that this was a requirement. idk. i feel like a spoiled and ungrateful piece of shit about it. that i'm worried about finances and still leaning towards not getting a job because it might be hard and stressful. that i feel stressed about finances when i have no right to be because i have my parents as a safety net.

anyway. my dad has also pushed pretty heavily for me not to move at all. he's not gonna stop me though. i've emphasized to him that this is my decision and i feel firmly about it and he relented. but tonight when i talked to him more about the financial stuff (like the fact that moving means i will run out of money sooner than if i don't), he brought it up again. that i have a good spot and i shouldn't just up and move for something that i don't even know i will like. that moving is expensive and time-consuming. that i know what i have here and the next place just might be absolutely horrible. i pushed back again and explained again that i've really thought it through and want to move. and he relented again and reiterated that he and my mom will support me financially when i need it, whether i move or not. which again, i am extremely grateful for. but now the whole conversation has just got me doubting myself. i applied earlier tonight for the duplex i wanted (and filled out and paid for another application for my dad to co-sign bc ofc i can't actually successfully apply anywhere without an income). but i'm just second guessing it all. what if it's not worth it? are the issues i talked about really big enough issues to move over? what if the next place does actually suck? and the landlord here is definitely not happy to see me go. she clearly really wants that extra income. and she said it would be difficult to find someone else to move in this time of year, which is probably true. i know landlords are landlords blah blah but like she's a person i know who i don't mean any ill will towards. i do feel bad about it.

all i want is a place where i can live in peace and not worry about fucking moving again until i graduate in august 2024. should i just suck it up and keep living here? am i just wasting mine and my parent's money with all this shit?

#you know i called this “rambly” before i even started writing it because i know what i'm like #and now i've written it and yeah #i am very sorry as always for my inability to be concise #j.txt

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cilldaracailin · 1 year

Text

You’re My Best Friend

Hello my Tumblr Lovely’s

Here is the next part in the Robyn and Taron story :)

Love Suze xx

“I'm saying I'm in love with you! I've been in love with you this whole bleeding year!”

Opening her fridge, Robyn was trying to think of what they could make which would be an easy breakfast and while she would have loved to have made waffles for Taron, something quicker was a better choice.

“Right so what are we having?” Taron asked as he walked into the kitchen, fully dressed back in his shorts and t-shirt from the day before. He stood beside Robyn looking into the fridge. “You waiting for the food to talk to you?” He joked.

“Trying to decide what to have.”

“You got eggs?” He asked.

“Always.”

“Poached eggs and toast sound good to me.” Taron closed over the fridge. “I will do the eggs if you want to look after the toast.”

“Yes sir.” Robyn fake saluted him. “Can I also be in charge of potatoes?”

“With you being the only Irish person in this room, I would never dream of touching a potato.”

Robyn gave Taron a gentle but playful push and the two worked away at making themselves a late breakfast or just lunch because it was near one thirty when they sat down to eat outside. The day had a little bit of heat and it was warm enough to take advantage and sit outside at the table, taking up the same chairs they always sat in. Taron had made himself some tea, while Robyn stuck to orange juice.

“So, we can bake after this right?” He asked, buttering his toast.

“We can bake anything you want.” Robyn replied. “Once I have the ingredients.” She added quickly.

“I will stick with the chocolate muffins.” He said dipping his toast into his egg.

“Chocolate chocolate?” Robyn asked.

“Chocolate chocolate?” Taron confirmed. “But we can add white chocolate chunks just to add some colour.”

Robyn grinned. “Quite the baker now, aren’t you?”

“Learnt from the best. Robyn these are delicious.” Taron scooped up another forkful of the potatoes. “And not just potatoes by themselves.”

“You said you’d leave the potatoes to the Irish person so I added rashers to them too with a little bit of onion. It’s kinda like the breakfast we have had before.”

“This is just as good, even better.” Taron spoke with a mouthful.

The finished off their breakfast and took their all too familiar positions of washing and drying the dishes at the sink, including the ones from last night. Counters wiped down and kitchen tidy, Taron then took Robyn’s hand and led her to the stools at the breakfast bar, taking a seat and gesturing for her to sit beside him.

“Before we get into baking, I think we need to have that chat.”

Robyn had been swirling in her chair but stopped and gave him a nod. “Yeah, we do.”

Taron reached for her hand. “I know what I want to say and it is going to be very quick so if it’s ok, I would like to go first.” When Robyn covered his hand with her other, he took it as a yes to start. “I don’t know what is going to happen here and I have no idea how we are going to make it work but I what I do know is that I love you. Very much and that while you already gave me my heart back, you have held it in your hands since you first came to visit me in Aberystwyth because that is when I realised that I loved you. Robyn, even my mother knew it then.” He gave her a little smile. “She told me I was in trouble and she was so right.” He half grinned her way. “I have no idea what tomorrow will bring for us let alone when I leave but I am going to put everything I have into me and you because this is what I want more than anything. To be with you and I don’t care what anyone else thinks, except you because you mean the world to me. What we have as friends will always be with us, no matter what and like we said last night that will never ever change but I really want to give us a go Robyn. We owe it to that spark we have always felt. We deserve to be happy and you make me so happy Robyn.” He reached up to gently cup her right cheek. “And not just ‘cos you bake me cookies.”

Robyn quietly laughed. “So, no cookies is a deal breaker then yeah?”

“Most definitely.” Taron whispered as he learned his head to her and captured her lips in the lightest of kisses.

When he moved away, his hand was still on her cheek, Robyn’s eyes were closed and she licked her lips. She sighed and opened her eyes and Taron was still so close to her. She moved a little closer to him so her forehead rested on his. “You know I will never ever not bake you cookies.” She shook her hand from his and rested her hands on his face, moving back so she could take in his beautiful green eyes. “I want everything you just said. You. This, whatever it will become because I love you too and yes, my mother seemed to know too.” Robyn lightly rubbed his nose with hers, her voice a little troubled. “There is so much that comes with this for us.”

“Forget the media, the fans. They don’t matter to me. You do and you know I will always protect you Robyn.”

“I absolutely know that.” She sat back on her stool. “Being a friend is so very different to dating.” She said in a low undertone.

“Robyn…” Taron used his hand to lift her chin as she looked to the floor. “Starting as we mean to continue, remember?”

She sighed a little. “I feel like a broken record but everyone has just accepted our friendship because of how we met but will that change if our relationship changes?”

“Excuse my language here but Robyn who gives a fuck. You make me so happy. I know when I come to see you that you are safest place in the world for me apart from being with my family. That when you come to see me, I am literally bouncing with excitement and I hope that…”

“I feel the exact same way.” Robyn confidently replied.

“Then forget about it all Robyn. It’s you and me. It has always been you and me.”

“I don’t want to have to hide us.”

“We won’t.” He took her hands and gave then a tight squeeze. “I am all in Robyn and want you by my side as you always have been. They will talk anyway. They always do just this time they will just be right. I won’t let anything stop us from giving this a go because I know it is going to be the most wonderful and exciting and fun experience with you.” He gave her forehead a kiss. “But I do understand if you don’t want to go public. It can be frightening in any capacity.”

Robyn shook her head. “I am ALL in.” She firmly said to him. “If you are walking a red carpet and want me by your side, I am right there with you. I will not hide how I feel about you because I feel so much for you and you are the most important person I have in my life who makes me feel loved, safe and so fecking happy Taron. We don’t know how we are going to work it out but we will. When you leave, sure it’s going to be shit but we have done it as friends, I know we are going to be able to do it when dating.” She chuckled. “Dating. Gosh it’s like we are teenagers.”

“Kissing like them too.” Taron laughed, giving Robyn some wet kisses, both laughing together. Their kisses turned a little deeper as Taron got to his feet, Robyn stretching up to meet his lips. “Cariad, I can’t say what will happen when I leave on Monday but I promise to love you, look after you and be there for you as best I can. I know already it is going to be difficult being away from you but I will do my damn best to make it work for us because Robyn, I need to have you in my life.”

“You have Taron. Always because just as you need me, I need you.” Getting to her feet, Robyn pressed herself right into his body and fused her lips to his, a little moan coming from both of them as lips parted and tongues met.

Robyn pulled away first because she had forgotten how to take in air, completely distracted by just taking in Taron. She brought her hands to his hair and ran her fingers through it, her chest heaving a little as she tried to catch her breath. She gave his head a little scratch, smiling as how he immediately ducked his head for her. After a tiny head massage, she moved her hands from his head to around his back and hugged him. “I want to give it a go Taron. I know it is going to be harder to be apart from each other but we have found a way to do it and we will continue to work it out.”

“We will.”

“And I can still come and visit you and you know you can always come to see me and I am sure we can plan some longer trips together.”

“Hmm…” Taron lightly kissed her neck. “I am glad to hear you say that because I was thinking that after I have finished filming maybe we could do something together. I have some time off and I am pretty sure you have a load of holidays left to use.”

“I do and I love that idea, so much.”

“Perfect. We can make a plan together.” Taron lifted his head to look at her. “I will be so proud to have you by my side as always Robyn as a friend or girlfriend.” A deep beautiful chuckle left his lips. “Well, that will take a bit of getting used to but I like it.”

Robyn scrunched her nose up. “Maybe stick with cariad for the time being.”

“Yeah? Not gonna call me your boyfriend? I think Claire was super excited about knowing you could call me that now.” He winked.

“I knew you heard that whole conversation last night!”

Taron chuckled harder. “It was hard not too Robyn. Your friends are loud!” He smiled at her. “So, cariad, we are kinda official then yeah?”

Robyn couldn’t keep the girly laugh in and nodded. “Yes Taron. We are official.”

Taron sealed their agreement with a kiss. “Hmm we need to tell cwtch.”

Robyn laughed against his lips. “I have a feeling he already knows but there are two people we have to tell first.”

“Our mothers.”

Robyn shook her head. “Close but not quite. Your sisters.” Robyn saw Taron’s head tilt in confusion. “At Mari’s birthday party, Rosie asked me if we were boyfriend and girlfriend and I told her no but if we ever were to become so that they would be the first to know.”

“Well my sisters it is then.”

“And we should probably give Lyndsey the heads up too. I mean…”

“Yeah I guess, she should know.” Taron interrupted her quickly, his voice a little sarcastic.

“Yes as your publicist, she kinda needs to be kept in the loop.” Robyn placed her hands on Taron’s face again, giving his cheeks a soft stroke. “I trust you Taron. I always have since you sat on my couch and had that first conversation with Lyndsey about my name going in the media. For now, it will be me, you, our families and friends and when the time comes, everyone else. We have been seen out together before.”

“Yeah I know.”

“I will hold your hand as much as I want when we are together.” Robyn slid her hands down his shoulders and arms to his hands, linking his fingers with hers. “I will slip my hand around your waist.” Her hands followed her words and moved around his back. “And even get a kiss or two in.” She kissed his cheeks and lips. “Start as we mean to continue, yeah?”

“Definitely.”

“And we already know I am not going to the premier for this movie.” She gave him a tiny smile. “So, we won’t have a public appearance for a long time.”

“Not going huh?”

“Nope. I will not be able to watch this movie, no matter how much I love you.”

“Well I will find something for you to dress fancy fancy for again.”

Robyn smirked. “Stella will have a field day.”

“I believe I picked your dress the last time.” Taron’s hand moved along the waistband of her jeans, slipping the material up so he could get his hands to the bare skin of her back. “Maybe another backless one?”

“I would be just fine with that.”

Taron smiled brightly. “An updo?” He suggested, his face going for neck, his nose brushing her hair out of the way. “Means I can kiss here all night.”

“Then you get to wear a tank top.”

“A tank top?” Taron moved his face from her neck. “What? Why?”

“So I can do this.” Robyn lifted her hand to his chest over his heart. “And I can get to here. If you are wearing a three piece suit, that’s way too many layers.”

His smile was gorgeous as always and his laugh was light. “Stella will not be happy.”

“Meh.”

“Meh?”

“Yeah. Meh.” She kissed his grin. “So we need to make some phone calls.”

“Yeah we do.” Taron lifted Robyn off her feet in a tight squishy hug. “Fuck I would just love a week here with you Robyn. Three days is not long enough.”

Robyn cuddled him tighter. “If you are wishing for time together, I would take two weeks Taron but three days together with no hospitals, no filming, no pool and just us. I think that is the best we could have ever hoped for. We have always wished for time like this together and now we get it and it is fully uninterrupted.”

“Hmm yes because I moved that key.”

Robyn laughed into his shoulder. “You are tosspot.”

“But I am your tosspot.” He informed her, kissing her gently. “Can we leave off ringing my sisters for a while?”

“Cold feet?” She asked.

“No not at all. I just want to enjoy our bubble with just us for as long as we can. Just me and you with no one knowing. Once we say a word, I know the phone calls are going to be endless which I am so happy to take but for now, I want to be selfish and just have you all to myself. You are right. Three days together with no interruptions is always what we have asked for and we got them.” He brushed some loose hair from her forehead. “Even if we can stretch it out until tomorrow, even better.”

Robyn nodded her head in agreement. “I like our little bubble.”

“It’s my favourite type of bubble.”

“Though I do like bubble bubbles too. They are fun to pop and you can get glycerine bubbles which you can eat and they are even more fun to pop and then of course there are bubbles from a bubble bath and speaking of which we still need to run you a bath to use that voucher you brought with you and why are you laughing at me.” Robyn dropped her hands from his back and folded them across her chest.

“You are just adorable when you speak without taking a breath and it’s the cutest thing when you get excited over the simplest things like bubbles.”

“Bubbles are fun.” Robyn replied her arms still crossed.

“Cariad, I know they are.” He pulled her crossed arms open, stepped into her body and wrapped her arms around his back. “And it’s a compliment darling. I promise. Now…” He gently kissed her cheek. “Muffins.”

“Ugh such a one track mind.” Robyn caved to his warmth and hugged him. “But yes, muffins.”

“Woohoo!”

His little cheer was so very cute and Robyn untucked herself from him and taking his hand, led him towards the island. “Let me get the recipe book.”

“You need a recipe?” Taron watched her walk to her book shelf under the fish tank and take out a book.

“For muffins, yes.”

“But they are just big cupcakes.”

Robyn opened the book on the island and searched for the chocolate muffins recipe. “I guess they are but there are differences in the way they are made and the quantities and the baking tin is different too.” She found the page she wanted. “Double chocolate muffins.” She scanned over the ingredients and nodded to herself. “Ok what to you want to be in charge of, measuring or mixing.”

“Mixing.” Taron answered.

“Sure.” Robyn turned around and grabbed her kitchen aid from the counter behind and carried it over to the island. “All yours.”

“And taste testing.” He added, watching Robyn plug in the mixer. “That’s a very important part of muffin making.”

Robyn rose an eyebrow at him, giving him a little nudge so she could set the kitchen aid up so it was ready to go. “Taste testing was not an option.”

“I am adding an extra one. A baker must always taste as he bakes.”

Robyn gave him another nudge, making him move back, and Taron watched as she opened a drawer and routed through it. She closed the drawer once she found what she wanted and turned to Taron. “Well Mr Baker, an apron is a must when baking.” Robyn fluffed out the apron in her hands, laughing at Taron’s face as he frowned. “You want the title of baker, you have to wear the apron.” She walked to him and carefully placed the apron over his head.

“Care Bears?” He groaned as Robyn tied the apron around his back. “Really?”

“Yes really and this is the most perfect Instagram photo.”

“Don’t even think about …” Taron stopped mid sentence as Robyn pulled her phone from her pocket. “Robyn…”

“It’s for my wall.” She replied.

“Just for the wall?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.”

She made him take two as he was still frowning in the first and for the third he pulled Robyn into him. “We can print them later.” She pocketed her phone. “Even though you have taken the job of mixer, which you know the kitchen aid needs no help for, do you want to help me weigh and measure?” She saw his lips lift in a tiny half smile. “But no flour throwing!” She pointed her finger to him. “Not this time. I don’t want to have to clean my whole kitchen.”

“Agreed.”

Robyn stared at him. “You agreed much too quickly to that.”

“Oh no, I am very happy not to have a flour fight today. Just baking and then eating the muffins.” Taron saw the doubt in her eyes. “I promise cariad. Not a pinch of flour will be thrown. I don’t want to be spending the day cleaning either. I would much rather be cuddling on the couch watching TV after this. So, what do we need to do first.”

Together they gathered all the ingredients needed to make the chosen muffins and weighed them out, Taron indeed taking charge of mixing as he watched the attachment go round and round, turning the measured ingredients into a chocolate combination. As he supervised the mixing, Robyn pulled out a chopping board and three packets of white chocolate along with a large knife.

“Oh I can do that!” Taron stepped away from his post and closer to her. “I can cut that up.” He lifted the first white packaging to open it but Robyn took it from him.

“Let me show you a quick way.” She placed the chocolate onto the chopping board, still in the wrapper and picked up the knife. She lay the sharp end of the knife over the wrapper and pressed down, moving down the bar bit by bit until she reached the end. She turned the bar to the left and then did the same thing. “It saves the chopping board getting all chocolate and the bar gets cut up into little pieces while in the wrapper. It does open at one end though but the chocolate normally stays in the wrapper.” Robyn picked up the bar and turning it upside down, let the contents fall carefully onto the wooden boards, small chunks of chocolate falling down. “See? Much easier than trying to cut it bit by bit.” She used the knife to cut three pieces that were still big. “And ready for the mix.”

“Neat little trick.”

“Yeah I use it for when I bake all those cookies for you.”

Taron smiled as he did the other two bars for her and then lifted the chopping board and tipped the white chocolate into the kitchen aid. “Extra important little trick then.” He stretched to put the board in the sink along with the other utensils they had used. “So how long do these take to bake?”

“About twenty to twenty-five minutes.” Robyn turned off the mixer.

“Hey!” Taron turned it on and off again. “My job.” He saw Robyn’s face and bit his lower lip. “Erm your job?” He gave her a little grin. “We are heading into time out territory again, aren’t we?”

She could only smile at him as she shook her head. “Not at all.”

“But close right?”

“I won’t put you in time out but I can put a ban on kisses.”

The gasp that came from Taron was loud and clear. “You wouldn’t. You love them way too much to do that.”

“I adore them but the threat of none makes you behave so let get these filled and into the oven before mischief starts.”

While Taron used an ice cream scoop, Robyn manipulated two spoons and they filled the muffin wrappers in the tray and once all the mixture had been used and scraped from the bowl, they had twelve muffins ready for the oven. Tray popped on a shelf and oven door closed, Robyn hopped up onto the island and picked up the bowl.

“Best part of the baking process. Licking the bowl.” She explained as she dragged a finger through the mix and ate it. “Want some?”

“Of course.” Taron stepped closer to her and titling his head, stole a kiss. “Hmm that’s delicious and so is that blush.”

Robyn had not been expecting the kiss and felt her cheeks flame as his lips left hers, watching as Taron then dragged his finger through the left over muffin mix in the bowl and lick it off. “Really delicious.”

She could see the glint in his eye and that playful smile on his lips as he went to take another taste from the bowl and her stomach was doing the most amazing butterfly dance as he took a third. “Please sir, I want some more.” Robyn said, Taron turning to her with a chuckle.

“More?”

“Hmmm-mmmm.”

Taron stepped to the right, around Robyn’s legs and in-between them. He was holding the bowl but as he brought his body closer to hers, placed the bowl behind her on the island. “Twenty minutes, right? Until the muffins are done?” He whispered in her ear.

“Hmmm-mmm.” Robyn felt a glorious shiver run through her as his voice deepened and his warm breath blew across her neck.

“Fantastic.” The word has barely left his lips as he kissed Robyn, his hands placed on her cheeks. Twenty minutes was so much time to kiss and have uninterrupted kisses and the Welshman kept his kiss firm, his hands moving from her face to around her shoulders and back, his fingers immediately slipping under her t-shirt to get to her skin. Breathing through his nose, he titled his head moving his lips from the right corner of Robyn’s, then to the left, smiling at the tiny moan that came from the woman he was holding. He had been holding in the appreciative noises he had been desperate to make and hearing Robyn’s sweet little whimper made his knees buckle the tiniest bit and he gently swept his lips across hers with a sigh. “Me too cariad.”

Robyn had been taken back a little at Taron’s sudden kiss when she thought he was just going to give her the bowl but his lips were warm and his hands were gently stroking her back and she was melting into him. Yesterday she had been the one taking charge, kissing him over and over but now Taron was kissing her with a longing and hunger and it felt wonderful. She was forgetting how to breathe through the kiss and when he moved to kiss her cheek, she inhaled deeply and the smell of the man who had now moved to her neck mixed with the baking muffins in the oven had Robyn’s body swaying a little, that she reached out to wrap herself around Taron, her legs crossing around his hips, meaning Taron had to step in closer to the counter and her.

Bodies were meshed against each other hard and Robyn found her hands copying Taron’s as she pulled open the bow of the apron strap and pushed his t-shirt up his back, brushing her fingers over warm bare skin, her hands moving as far up his back as she could go.

“A back massage, kisses and muffins in the oven?” Taron murmured against her lips. “You are spoiling me.”

Robyn chuckled as she pulled her face back a tiny bit but kept her lips close enough to his so that a kiss could happen in milliseconds, her hands still deep under his t-shirt, her thumbs making little circles up and down his spine. “I am not too sure some chocolate muffins count as spoiling you.”

“Kisses…” Taron pressed his lips against hers as he spoke the word.

“You are to blame for these ones…” She replied breaking the kiss.

“I take full responsibility for my actions.” He laughed. “And you do spoil me with the most thoughtful things.” His hands moved from her back and he ran then through her hair, pushing it away from her face. “How long again till the muffins are done?”

“About fifteen minutes.”

He answered her with a cute little peck, then resuming his more heated kiss like before. Once again his hands changed position and with them gripping the waistband and belt of her jeans, he tugged her closer to him so she was sitting on the very edge of the counter, his head tilting as their kiss intensified, both sighing hard into each other, Robyn legs tightening around Taron.

He was so thankful for the height of the counter as once again his body reacted to Robyn’s lips, tongue and warmth. He had a need for fresh air, some oxygen and to try and stop the urge to lift her and carry her into the bedroom, Taron gave the side of her lips a kiss, moving across her right cheek, giving her jaw under her ear a soft caress with his lips. Teasingly he made a little trail of wet tiny kisses down her neck, Robyn moving her head as Taron went lower, his nose pushing the material of her t-shirt out of the way so he could kiss her shoulder and along her collar bone.

Tingles of fire filled every part of her and Robyn locked Taron in her legs, so he could not move away from her and while she was trying to distract him by rubbing his back, his mouth was winning and her head automatically lifted higher as Taron’s head ducked lower and his kisses moved from her shoulder and followed the v design of her t-shirt, his nose rubbing over the swell of her chest, right side first and then left. His lips then traced the path his nose had made, leaving the tiniest teasing kisses everywhere his lips touched. The lace of her bra peaked out as he kissed luscious sweet skin and when Robyn inhaled with a little gasp as he very delicately kissed above the cute little bow on her bra, he smirked and did it again.

Taron hadn’t shaved in three days and the rough scruff on his skin was such a new sensation for her after being without a man in her life for years and while it itched a little bit, the gentle kisses he was giving her were like a medicine that cured the prickly feeling. She knew he heard her exclaim when his kisses moved lower, his nose rubbing back and forth over the lace of her bra and she placed one hand in his hair and the other on the back of his neck. She felt the faintest touch his tongue which made her jump, but in the best way and when he did it again, her hands went to his cheeks and she lifted his head so she could just kiss him. While her t-shirt was pulled down slightly in the front, Robyn had Taron’s nearly past his shoulder blades as her hands returned to his back, her finger nails now grazing up and down his spine.

Kisses became more frantic and hands started to roam more freely, both completely lost in each other and Taron went for a second smooch on Robyn’s neck, but this time going straight for that beautiful V, soft and sensitive female skin ready for tasting and touching.

Her head was tilted right back and her hands slid down his back and she stretched a little so she could find the back pockets of his shorts, the same way as he found hers last night and she slipped her hands into both, giving his bum a squeeze. The giggle from Taron was gloriously deep and Robyn felt her eyes starting to roll in her head as he moved her bra strap over her left shoulder and his lips followed as he kissed all the new skin exposed to him.

Both their heads turned when they heard the very loud knock on the door, Taron cursing loudly at the knock and then looking to Robyn after he realised his forehead had hit off her chin when he moved his head so fast when he heard the rattle at the door.

“Shit, sorry.” He placed his hands on her cheeks, his left thumbs stroking her chin. “Sorry cariad. You ok?”

“Yeah I am just…” Robyn’s stopped speaking as the tapping on the door started again.

“Fucking hell.” Taron cursed once more, his head falling back a little before he looked at Robyn. “No interruptions?” He asked.

“I have no idea…”

“Robyn?” A voice called in through the door.

“Oh…” She gave Taron what she hoped was her best apologetic look. “My mam.”

“But the key is gone so we can just pretend…”

“She has a key.” Robyn could feel the frustration building in the man she still held tightly in her arms, her hands still in his back pockets. “She’s my mother Taron. Of course she has a key.”

“But we can be quiet.”

“I may be nearly two weeks out of the hospital but I still get my daily checks and she will come in here.”

“Shit.” Taron’s hands pulled at his hair.

Robyn took her hands from the pockets of his shorts, wrapped her arms around Taron and pulled her into him. “I am sorry but she got a horrible fright when she heard I was in the hospital and she will open the door to come in. She probably thinks I am asleep.”

His sigh was long but understanding and he gave her a squeeze. “So after your friends and your parents, can we expect anyone else?” He asked. “A long lost cousin twice removed?”

Robyn fixed his t-shirt at his back and chuckled at him. “I will run you a lovely hot bath to make up for this, ok? With loads of bubbles and give you a head and shoulder massage.”

The Welshman ended the hug and gave her a smile. “Ok.” He agreed. “But throw in a muffin too.”

“Deal.” Robyn fixed her t-shirt and went to move but Taron stopped her and she rose an eyebrow at him. “You ok?”

He scratched the back of his neck and looked at her through his eyelashes “Not too fast?”

“Too fast?” She repeated. Taron gave her a shy smile and a nod. “Ohhh!” Robyn knew her face blushed again but she shook her head. “Nope. It was the most fun I have ever had while waiting for muffins to bake.”

His laugh was light but the knock came on the door again and his face frowned. “This better be the best bath I have ever had cariad.” He kissed her lips quickly and then lifted her from the kitchen island, making sure he properly fixed her top once he had placed her on the tiles. “To be resumed, once again.”

Taron took off his apron and after he left it on the island, hand in hand, they walked towards the front door, breaking apart as Robyn unlocked the door and opened it to find her mother and father on her door step.

“Robyn! I was just about to get my key out.”

“Sorry mam.” She stepped back to let her parents in. “I have a visitor.

“Oh yeah? Claire still here?”

“Hey Lizzie, John.” Taron gave them a little wave and a smile as he stepped around the door and over towards Robyn.

“Taron!”

The unexpected visitor caused a little excitement and Robyn watched with interest as her mam greeted Taron with a hug and hello but as her dad was shaking Taron’s hand, she noticed that her mam would not meet her eye once she knew Taron was in her home. As Taron and John had a quick chat, her mother was still not looking at her and Robyn continued to stare her way when it clicked suddenly why her mam was acting strange. “Oh my God. You know!”

Lizzie looked to her daughter with a hugely guilty face. “Robyn…”

“How on earth do you know!”

“Robyn?” Taron called her name and took the few steps to come and stand beside her.

“They know about me and you.” She saw the confusion in Taron’s face that she was feeling. She gave her mam a very gently prod. “Explain please.”

“Robyn…”

“Mam don’t even try to deny it. I can see it on your face that you know so you may as well just tell me how you know.”

Lizzie looked to Taron, her husband and then her daughter and knew she had to come clean. “John and I came over last night just before nine to check up on you as we knew you had your friends coming over during the day and when we got here, we heard music. Looking in the window, we saw you and Taron dancing with each other.”

“We have danced together before.” Robyn replied.

“There is dancing and then there is dancing Robyn.” Lizzie laughed. “You were both lost in each other, in the dance and holding each other so tightly. I just knew.”

“Ugh for goodness sake.” Robyn threw her hands up to the sky. “So much for our bubble.”

Taron lightly laughed and wrapped his left arm around her shoulders. “Parents have a sixth sense Robyn.”

Lizzie turned to look at them and her face was filled with joy. “We didn’t want to interrupt you last night so walked away and headed back home. I knew you were in very safe hands with Taron and you didn’t need me coming to check up on you.”

“Lizzie, Robyn asked for a proper explanation.” John gave his wife a light nudge. “You forgot to mention how you went looking for the key under the flower pot to come inside to talk to Robyn and Taron last night but it wasn’t there and I had to convince you very hard when we got home not to get your key to come back.”

“John!” Lizzie’s face reddened, in a very similar way to how Robyn’s did when she was embarrassed. “No that wasn’t the case at all.”

“‘I just want to know!’, I believe were your exact words last night when I told you it could wait until today.” Robyn grinned at her father who gave her a wink. “And look we managed to wait, didn’t we and you still couldn’t pretend you knew nothing.”

“Well John, I… I…”

“Oh mam!” Robyn laughed at her mother and pulled her in for a hug. “Welcome to my bubble.” She took her hands away from her mam and reached for Taron’s hand. “My bubble with Taron.”

“Robyn!” Lizzie looked at Taron and then to her daughter. “Really?”

“Really.” Taron confirmed.

With a little shout of happiness, Lizzie took both Robyn and Taron in for a hug together. “Oh I am so thrilled for you both!” She gave them both a kiss on their cheeks and then let them go. “This is going to be something so special for the two of you.” She placed her hand on Taron’s cheek and smiled at him. “So thrilled.” She repeated.

“Thank you Lizzie.” Taron smiled under her hands. “While I can’t speak for Robyn and I would never ever try, I know I am thrilled too.”

Robyn gave his side a little poke with her right hand. “I am happy too.” Looking to her mam she than crossed her arms. “So you were doing a little sneaking last night yeah?”

“When and why did you move the key?” Lizzie asked her daughter ignoring her question.

“I didn’t move it.” Robyn shrugged. “Taron did. He put it in the fridge.”

“Wait, what?”

Taron looked to Robyn and could see the cheeky smile on her face. “Yeah sorry about that.” He looked to her mother. “Erm, we just wanted a good nights sleep and not be interrupted so I took the key in.”

“And put it in the fridge?” Lizzie questioned raising her eyebrow in the very same way Robyn rose hers.

Taron started to stutter. “Well… I… We… I mean…”

“He was just messing, mam. It was in there about thirty seconds when I took it out. It’s on the counter. We just wanted a decent nights sleep. It has been an eventful day or two.”

“Robyn what are you baking?” Her father asked, stopping his wife from asking another question. He had walked around towards the oven and took a peek inside, the smell of chocolate filtering into the air.

“Muffins. Chocolate ones.”

“Hmm my favourite. Are they your favourite too Taron?” John asked him over the breakfast bar.

“Cookies.” Taron answered with a shrug. “Cookies are my favourite.”

“Good choice but Robyn knows her dad’s favourite are chocolate muffins. Love, these look nearly done. They got long left?”

Robyn glanced to Taron with a little smile. “I’d say about two maybe three minutes.”

“Perfect. Lizzie, tea?”

“Love a cup John.”

“Tell you what Lizzie,” Taron discreetly slipped his hand into Robyn’s and gave it a squeeze. “Why don’t you and Robyn go and sit down on the couch and I will go and help John with the tea and the muffins. I am a baker now.” He smiled at Lizzie. “We can bring over the drinks and muffins to you.” He gave Lizzie a bigger grin. “I am sure you have lots of questions and having already been through this last night with Robyn’s friends, I am excellent at pretending I am not listening in.” He dropped Robyn’s hand and gave her a temple a soft but lingering kiss. “Just call out if you need a rescue cariad.”

Taron strolled into the kitchen, standing next to Robyn’s dad, looked over his shoulder at Robyn giving her a wink, Robyn feeling the blush deeply sinking into her cheeks.

“Let’s go Robyn. I do have lots of questions.” Lizzie linked her arm with her daughter and walked her to the couch, both sitting down and getting comfortable.

#Taron Egerton #Taron Egerton Fanfiction #Taron Egerton Fanfic #Taron Fanfic #Robyn and Taron #Love #Friendship #Kisses #Interruptions #Family #New Beginnings

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