#also took them like two months to fix the oven (before i moved in) when it broke one time for no reason i ever heard??

[illogicalvulcans]

suffering (submitting a reasonable maintenance request for a problem that is absolutely my landlord's responsibility to fix)

[anadiasmount]

hershey kisses - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: dad! jude coming home to being left confused why his girlfriend wont kiss him. maybe a chocolate kiss could solve his worries?

wc: 1.4k | masterlist | jude's masterlist

psa🗣️: had not seen dad! jude on the timeline for a minute so i wrote a small fic! this is not my best work so i'm sorry, but I hope you still enjoy ☹️🤍

“hi, my chunky man! you finally woke up,” you cood at your 9-month-old who yawned loudly and rubbed his eyes. he had been asleep since the match started, sleeping all the way through and not once making a sound. he cuddled into your neck as you fixed his loose-fitted jersey and brushed his curls back. he smiled when you repeatedly kissed his cheek and ran your hand across his back.

“someones’ still tired,” you said noticing him yawn again, walking out of his monster's inc themed nursery and into the kitchen where you were preparing the batter for your favorite cookies. you took advantage of his nap and cleaned around the house, playing music softly against the background as you picked up clothes, toys, and dishes lingering around. 

you pulled out a go-squeeze and fed it to zak, who downed it quick. after serving water in his sippy cup, you also put a small handful of the baby puffs and sat him on his toy mat where he watched his dad on the screen being interviewed. “dada!” zak squealed, pointing and made grabbing motions at the tv with his chunky hand. “that's right. dada scored again! can you believe it?” you baby talked watching as he showed you his four front teeth. 

you quickly changed the channel and put on his favorite cartoons, going back to the kitchen and grabbing an ice cream scoop, scoping out small chunks of the dough onto the parchment paper, often looking up to make sure zak was okay. before you put them into the oven, you placed hersey kisses in the middle, popping one, well more than three into your mouth. 

“smells good in here,” jude sighed, smelling the cookies and quickly setting his stuff down by the door. zak bear crawled over to jude, making the two of you laugh at his speed to be held by his dad. jude’s heart warmed at the sight of the small but loose jersey on zak, immediately crouching down and picking up the baby in diapers. 

“scored a goal for you,” jude kissed his forehead, and then felt your hands go around his torso, “and meant it for you,” he said leaning down and giving you a kiss on the lips. “so proud of you handsome,” you squeezed his cheek and went back to the kitchen, hearing the timer go off. “that's it? that’s all i get even after scoring a goal for you?” he joked, zak kicking his feet as jude followed you into the kitchen. 

“baby, you know i'm always proud of you right? plus i’m baking us cookies,” you said in an obvious tone, jude watching you grab the christmas mitten and pull the cookies out of the oven. “you listening to this zak? momma doesn’t love me,” he muttered, tickling his neck and then sides, your baby bursting into laughter. 

you cocked your head to the side at his comment, asking yourself inwardly if he was being serious or not, but knowing he was joking, two can play for two. after putting the cookies on the rack and letting them cool down, you also prepared hot chocolate, also warming up zak’s bottle so he can be feed after he ate his dinner. 

you purposefully had avoided and dodged three of his kisses, either pulling away from his grip, or moving your head to the side, jude giving you a confused glance everytime. you wanted to tease him a bit for the joke he said, but also wanted to prank him by giving him a hershey kiss. it's not that you were trying to ignore him, jude’s kisses felt like heaven, getting lost even if it was a small peck, but it was just a small joke.  

jude was upset, left wondering if he had done or said something before he left. instead of overthinking it like he always did, he played with zak, blowing raspberries into his tummy, and played with the small firefighter toy truck he had, mimicking the sirens and watching as your son died from laughter. 

jude looked over to where you were, frowning as your attention had gazed somewhere else. An hour and a half later, zak was fussy, knowing he wanted to sleep. jude grabbed his bottle and went to his room where he changed him out the jersey and into dinosrour themed pj’s, changing his diaper as well. 

he rocked him slowly, brushing back his curls and humming a small lullaby to sleep. “i hope you know you and your mom are the best things to exist in my life. although she’s mad at me for some reason and acting stubborn with me, i love her and you to death” after placing a small kiss on his chunky cheek, he set him down gently onto his crib. tucking the white bunny under his arm, and pulling the small blanket over his body. 

jude walked back downstairs, rolling his eyes at you. not only did he let his overthinking get the best of him, but he was now annoyed you were refusing to talk to him even after avoiding his kisses. he grabbed the remote and sat on the couch, different scenarios running through his head on why you would be upset with him. 

after scrolling through some comments on his latest post, he heard your voice call for him. “babe come here for a second?” you giggled inside, grabbing a wrapped hershey kiss from the bag, almost bursting into laughter as jude walked in seriously, with crossed arms and with a pout. “what a child” you thought. 

“i think i know why you are upset with me,” you attempted to sound resentful, but jude just nodded for you to continue your explanation. “i think it's due to the fact i haven't let you kiss me…” you looked away dramatically, shaking your head. you caged him into the countertop, jude becoming nervous at your proximity. 

all jude could do was stare confused, “do you want a kiss?” you sighed dramatically, playfully rolling your eyes, watching as a frown appear on his face, now leaning against the counter top. you ran your hands against his chest and then down to his biceps, goosebumps running along his skin as you leaned up. jude became tense for some reason, all of a sudden becoming nervous. 

his lips had parted, lips barely touching his, and you quickly placed the unwrapped chocolate into his mouth, letting out a fit of giggles as he cockily smirked at you. you ran quietly around the kitchen trying to avoid the 6ft tall man who wanted to catch you. when he finally did he grabbed you by the back of your thighs and sat you onto the countertop where you had caged him before. 

“woman? do you not know how worried i was? thinking  i had done something to you?” jude confessed still laughing and catching his breath, pushing back your hair and cupping your cheek. “i was scared you were going to make me sleep on the couch again,” he said, reminding you of the time he pissed you off and you made him sleep downstairs. later tucking back into bed with you.

“so you're not mad at me?” he asked shyly, wanting confirmation you weren't mad or upset with him. “no baby, i was just joking around,” you laughed, hearing a deep chuckle come out his throat. while he continued to cup your cheek, your hands ran along his sides anticipating his next move. “i hope you know that means you owe three kisses,” he said along your lips, kissing your nose. “four after the chocolate i gave you,” you reminded him. “that's right, four kisses you owe me.”

“well what are you waiting for?” you say timidly, becoming intimidated by his strong gaze. “i'm thinking whether you deserve my kisses or not?” he says playfully, observing the way you bite your lip and your hands pulling him closer by his back. “kiss me jude… i know you want it,” you close your eyes, breathing in his still present cologne. 

“that’s right, i do want it.”

his lips brushes against yours, your tummy fluttering at his needy but soft movements, jude’s hand coming from your cheek now to your hip. he tugged you closer, wanting to fill the smallest space that was left, letting a groan at the chocolate taste that remained in your mouth. he licked his lips, pulling away and chuckling at your pout, running his thumb along your now swollen lips.

“your kisses are way better than the chocolate ones.”

[deepdisireslonging]

Sunrise Guarded by Night Chapter 2: New Landlord

Two early morning visitors inform Ileana that her building is under new management, and that her rent has changed.

Pairing: (none this chapter)

Warnings/Promises: cw blood, mild threatening, food mention

Word Count: 1240

Note: Happy reading! Comments and reblogs are always welcome. This is part 2 of a commission I did. Part 1 can be read here: Every Morning

As warm and inviting as the mornings were, Ileana’s favourite part of the day actually happened at night. All those delectable pastries her patrons loved took time to mix, roll, and rise. If she was honest with herself, she took an extra minute with one pastry out of each batch. Just because Officer Dick came in for the same coffee every day didn’t mean that he paired it with the same sweet. As such, the pastry that received the most care, and looked the best out of the oven, reserved the honoured spot immediately behind the glass. It drew people in. Tajra knew who it was for. 

Covered in flour, Ileana slid the tray of blueberry croissants into their position. She was mentally planning the placement of the other trays when there was a banging on the door. Two men were outside, dressed in dark clothes. Ileana assumed they were looking for trouble. 

“We’re closed,” she shouted.

“We want some coffee,” the shorter one shouted back.

Ileana shook her head. “You’ll have to wait until five AM. It’ll be fresh then- hey!”

With horror, Ileana watched as the larger one shoved his fist through the glass and unlocked the door from the inside. Even though his hand came back bloody, he didn’t seem to notice or care.

The shorter one strutted up to the counter like an eight AM patron. “Mornin’. I’m John, this is Jack.” He rubbed his squashed nose. “Cute shoppe. While some coffee would be nice, we also have a notice for you.”

“A notice?” Ileana swallowed dryly as the larger one, Jack, rounded the counter corner to survey the bar back. His face, long and warped like a nightmare, made her heart thunder. His presence blocked her exit to the kitchen. “What kind of notice?”

“You’ve got a new, uh, landlord.” John bent at the waist to look at the mostly empty display case. “Don’t worry. Your rent is the same. Give or take a few new, shall we say, charges to cover pest control.”

Ileana inched to one side as Jack stepped close with a sneering smile. 

“It’s for your own good. If you have any trouble from your previous landlord or anyone interested in adding your business to their holdings, give us a call. All you need for an extra five hundred a month.”

“Five hundred!” Ileana would have thrown herself over the counter to claw at his face, but Jack caught her by the wrists. A minute later, she was sat down in a seat while John raided the croissants. “What- what if I can’t pay? I’m barely covering expenses as it is.”

He licked his fingers. “We’ll send business your way. Can’t have such a lucrative rent-payer going under.”

“What if,” Ileana breathed deep, “what if I don’t want to pay for your so-called protection?” 

The air in the shoppe shifted, hovering like dust in the early morning sunlight. 

Ileana shifted as Jack leaned down to murmur in her ear, “then you’ll need protection from us as well.” As he traced his finger over the shell of her ear, Ileana failed to cover the shiver that overtook her. 

Suddenly, the clang of the display tray hitting the floor rang out. Ileana was the only one who flinched. John handed his tall partner the last of the pastries. He squeezed it till it broke down into flaky crumbs and drippy jam. 

“You don’t have to decide now.” The short annoyance wiped his mouth with a napkin, then dropped it on the floor. “We’ll be back at the end of the month for your rent and your answer. Until then-” he nodded at the door, “we’ll send someone out to fix your glass. No charge.”

It only took seconds for them to leave. 

But it took almost half an hour for Ileana to move from the chair. 

***

The “help” arrived to replace the glass shortly before Tajra did. When asked about it, Ileana was surprised that she didn’t break down and cry all over again. The details spilt out in whispers. Short John and tall Jack’s casual break-in like it was something normal. The “notice.” The threat. The handyman left without a word as the two women looked on in fear. 

Ileana rejected the idea to go to the police. 

“We’re not the only ones this is happening to.” Tajra nibbled on her thumbnail. “We can’t be. Telling someone would probably help more businesses.”

She shook her head. “We might as well stamp ‘informant’ on our foreheads.”

They opened the shoppe in silence. Thankfully, it was a dreary day and people were slow to start their mornings. 

Between customers, Tajra shouldered up to Ileana. “You know who we could tell?”

“No.” 

“We can tell him not to make it anything official. It would be-”

Ileana placed both hands on Tajra’s shoulders. “We can’t. Remember when he was in a sling for most of last year? I don’t want to put him into that sort of danger again. Even if he is a cop.” Her hands slowly lost their grip, sliding down to Tajra’s hands. Her mind drifted. The memory of Jack’s touch over her ear made her eyes glaze over. Such big hands. Uncaring of the slivers of glass in them. He would crush Officer Grayson like he was nothing more than a twig. “No. We can’t tell him. We can’t tell anyone.” Even if I want to. 

When Dick swept in a few minutes later, he immediately knew something was wrong. Ileana’s usually sure hands shook holding anything heavier than a packet of sugar. Tajra kept looking at the door even when no one was there. He realized she was looking at the glass itself. Too clear to be freshly cleaned. New. And the pastries in the case were lopsided. Like their baker was thinking about other things when she made them. 

“No blueberry croissants today?” He carefully watched their reactions. 

Ileana’s shoulders stiffened. “No, I’m sorry. There was an accident.” She ignored Tajra’s pointed look. “I dropped the tray this morning and they went everywhere.”

Dick took a sip from his coffee. Bitter. It was never bitter, even when they had first opened. “That’s unfortunate. But the strawberry ones are just as amazing.” He hid his detecting behind a brilliant smile. “May I have two strawberry croissants, please? My partner keeps making eyes at my breakfast when I come into work. Figure I should go ahead and bring him his own before mine disappears off my desk.” As he passed along his money, not even the hint of a smile tugged at Ileana’s lips. Softly he asked, “I hope I wasn’t too forward yesterday-”

“Oh, no!” There was that smile. Though a bit sad. “It’s just been a rough morning.” She handed him his change, which he dropped into the tip jar. “I hope your workday starts off better than mine.” 

He lifted his breakfast in a toast. “I’m sure it will. I hope the rest of your day is better.”

“Thank you.” Ileana looked down while wiping off the counter instead of looking at him. Meanwhile, Tajra couldn’t keep her eyes off his. 

Unconvinced, he maintained his clueless smile until he was well on his way to the office. Mallory tried to turn down the sweet. “Just eat it.” He walked over to the string board and mentally expanded the string box to include the Cuppa Sunrise. 

It encompassed an alarming amount of Blüdhaven.

***

Chapter 3: Midnight Sleuthing

Intrigued? Would you like to commission a fic or mini series of your own? Read here: Guidelines Here

[dreaminghour]

Hayden/Ewan RPF - Handmade gift

Event: @domaystic Fandom: Star Wars RPF Rating: General Audiences Prompt: 21 Handmade gift Ship: Hayden/Ewan Disclaimer: References to real people are used fictitiously. Do not share this with them! Context: Present day. Vaguely follows the timeline of my other RPF ficlets, but you don't need to read those to understand this. You can find them here on my blog. Words: 990

Ever since Hayden took Ewan on a walk around the property, he's been thinking thinking about those apple trees. He'd been apple picking in New York naturally, but that was ages ago now.

It's nearing on weeks since he's left home. Hayden doesn't pressure him for answers, doesn't even ask how long he's intending to stay, but it weighs on Ewan. Even though being here is a relief which outpaces everything else. There's something so peaceful about spending his days walking the land, running occasional errands in town, helping Hayden around the farm. It isn't something he's ever done much of. He goes to sleep dreaming of apples and sheep.

Hayden puts out apple butter for fresh buns in the mornings but Ewan tries to go easy on it; he doesn't know how much there is in the pantry. Hayden also mentioned 'winter apples' for baking, but Ewan is dreaming of that first crisp bite in the fall, which is months away yet. The weather is still clinging to cool spring ways.

But then, at last, he smells apple pie. When he looks up from the script he's been reading, spread out on the guest bed, he notices that the sun has moved further than he expected. He's making notes to send back to his agent, but this isn't time sensitive so much as an excuse to keep him out of Hayden's hair.

But a smell like that is a siren's call. He stacks all his things in a pile and leaves them on the bed, padding down the stairs to the kitchen. He meets Hayden in front of the oven.

"I was wondering when that would reach you," Hayden says affectionately.

"Just caught up in reading," Ewan says, stepping back as Hayden opens the door and pulls the pie out.

It's steaming, crust a beautiful golden color, bubbles of cinnamon and sugar bursting from the holes cut in the top. Hayden tilts the pie just slightly, as though presenting it to Ewan, and looks at him with a small smile.

"What's the occasion?" Ewan asks.

"Joel and his wife are coming over later," Hayden says, putting the pie on the kitchen's wide window ledge.

Ewan knows Joel from the time he came over to help Hayden fix one of the machines. For as much as Ewan knows the ins-and-outs of his own bikes, he doesn't know much about farm equipment.

"Just a visit with friends?" Ewan asks.

It's not that he feels as though he needs to tread softly on the subject, but the lack of people has struck Ewan as odd. The house is big, meant to be filled with a large family, lots of friends; he wants to call it lonely in his mind, to see Hayden out here with no one but an occaisional farm-hand or two, but Hayden doesn't seem lonesome. He seems solitary, but it seems to suit him.

"Joel's wife is the local sheep shearer. She trims horns and hooves as needed too. That's how I met Joel. They'll be coming by in a bit to shear them before it gets much hotter."

"Does it get much hotter?"

Hayden shrugs. "A bit. Not like California though." And he grins at Ewan in a way that makes it clear he sees something which Ewan would like to ignore.

The pie cools down, but the scent lingers. The truck which pulls up with Joel and his wife, Eileen, is quickly emptied in the barnyard and Ewan helps bag up each fleece as it comes off the sheep. There aren't many to shear; a couple hours and it's all done. Joel and his wife decline the offer of dinner, Ewan briefly wonders if its because of him, and the pie is handed over as well as payment for the service itself.

Hayden is bashful and humble about the pie, even while Joel is practically effervescent and Eileen chortles, which makes Ewan a bit mad that he won't be able to try it.

"I thought you only had a few apples left?" Ewan asks after they've brought the sheep into the barn and cleaned up for dinner. He's standing side-by-side with Hayden in the kitchen again.

"Most farmers keep sides of lamb in their chest freezers," Hayden says, "but mine's full of produce. I chop up the apples, sometimes I mix 'em up with sugar and cinnamon, and then when I need a quick pie…" He makes a ta-da gesture.

"I don't suppose…" Ewan trails off, focusing on chopping the onion with a very sharp knife for the moment.

"Sometimes a whole pie is a bit much for just one person," Hayden says, and when Ewan glances over he sees a fond smile on his face, "and I'll admit I do like the taste of my own apples."

Ewan doesn't reply. He puts the chopped onions in a bowl and then turns to watch Hayden go into his fridge and pull out a baking sheet. Laid out on it are what look like hand pies.

"Are those—?"

"Apple pies for my favorite American friend doesn't stop asking about them," Hayden says with a wink.

Ewan scoffs.

"I have a couple in the freezer," Hayden continues, "but there's usually scraps when I put together a pie fresh, so we can have these for dessert."

He puts the tray back in the fridge and comes to stand beside Ewan again.

"I'm not American," Ewan says at last, a bit quietly and only mock offended.

"Didn't you get citizenship a couple years ago?"

Ewan scoffs again.

Dinner is delicious, as Ewan has come to expect it always is at Hayden's. The smell of baking pie distracts them while they clean their plates and then they're sitting on the couch with ice cream and steaming pies.

The sky is turning dark purple and even though he knows he has to, Ewan is wondering how he'll ever bring himself to leave.

[fictionalmenmakemecry]

Hot Public Shit

SPOILERS ALERT: If you haven't finishing watching TVD, there might be some spoilers for you. I don't tell any of the story but it might spoil some of the character relationships that later develop in the show. (I personally hate spoilers so I'm making this as clear as possible)

Character: Damon x reader, Enzo, Stefan, Caroline and Bonnie

Summary: During a celebration dinner you try your best to push Damon to brink of losing control. He doesn't let you get away with it. He doesn't even wait til you get home.

Warnings: HEAVY SMUT (+18) , Spoilers, Cursing

(HEAVY SMUT includes unprotected sex, daddy kink, public sex, choking, heavy sexual terminology and masturbation)

"How long is this going to be?" Damon whined getting out of his Camaro and slamming the door shut.

"Damon, you promised that you would behave tonight. It's Stefan and Caroline's night." I looped around the car placing my hands on his chest looking him in the eyes.

"They've been married for like what? A year? That's nothing when your nearly 180 years old" Damon rolled his eyes

"They've been through a lot this year" I brushed his shirt down bringing my eyes to his chest

"So have we." Damon brought my face back up to his gently holding my chin.

"We can have our own celebration" I whispered giving a flirty smile.

"Mmm, I like that sound of that" Damon hummed bringing his head down to my neck and kissing it.

A soft moan escaped my lips feeling his warm breath hit my skin.

"How about we celebrate tonight, with me eating your perfect pussy out until you make a mess on my face" Damon whispered bringing his face up giving a lascivious smile.

I could feel my face turning red and my core starting to wake up from memories of familiar nights.

I snapped myself out from zoning out and pulled away from Damon kissing my neck.

"I would love that, but right now we should go in and be good guests. I know Caroline has been slaving over the oven all day making sure we were still going to come." I took Damon's hand and dragged him up the drive way.

We knocked on the door and in a instance Caroline was opening it.

"Welcome guys!" She cheered raising her arms to gesture us in.

I could just feel Damon's eyes roll into the back of his head hearing her high pitched voice.

"Thanks for having us Caroline" I grinned bringing her into a hug.

"I'm just happy that you're hear" She said chipperly

I walked further into the house to see Stefan, Bonnie and Enzo all chilling near the fire, enjoying their drinks.

"Hey!" I greeted walking towards Stefan.

We hugged and Damon and I plopped ourselves down on the couch on the other side of the fireplace.

We chatted and enjoyed our drinks soaking up the heat of the fire as Caroline and Stefan finished cooking the dinner. I look over to see how happy Bonnie was as Enzo showered her in kisses and wrapped his arm around her waist keeping her close to him. Bonnie deserved happiness and Enzo was that person that could give her that. I glanced over to Damon who leaned back onto the couch enjoying his bourbon. I rested back into his chest wanting to appreciate the rare and happy memories we were making.

"You okay?" He looked down, bring his arm around me caressing my lower back.

"Yeah, I'm just happy I'm here with you" I raised my head, meeting his cold blue eyes.

As the night went on, dinner was served which seemed to be a never ending trail of food. It felt like we were having a 12 course dinner. By the end we were all stuffed and continuing to slowly get through our drinks. We were starting to get more relaxed and happy as the liquor made its way around, leading to interesting conversations between us all.

I looked over to see Damon finishing off the bottle by pouring the rest of it into his glass. Seeing his hand grip around the glass and bringing the liquor up to his pink lips, sparked a little flame deep inside of me. I squirmed in my chair, feeling the affect of all the alcohol playing a part in my random horniness. I brought my hand down under the table and rest it on his thigh, leaning closer to him. He looked over to me with his eyes slightly gazed over. I know he was also feeling the same buzz I was feeling. I ran my fingers lightly further up his thigh and rest it on his stiffening package. I glanced up at him while palming him gently. He shifted in his seat and took a deep breath. He looked at me with narrowed eyes telling me not to test him. I bit my lip knowing what that did to him. He came close to my ear and I could feel the heat radiate off his body.

"You want to play this game?" He whispered softly in my ear.

I turned my head giving him a quick smirk and brought my drink up to my mouth knowing I was going to have a fun night ahead.

"So guys, I think we need to bring out the real guns" Caroline said walking up to the table slightly hyper from all the activities.

We all turned our attention to her and saw her with two massive bottles of tequila.

"I'm ready" Enzo shifting in his sit giving a quick look to Damon.

I knew both of them were going to want to test each other which would mostly result in both of them passed out on the floor from neither of them wanting to tap out.

"Let's make this more interesting... How about truth or... drink?" Caroline arched her eyebrow cracking the fresh seal on the caps of the bottles.

"I like the sound of that" Damon smirked bringing his hand under the table resting it on my thigh and giving it a light squeeze.

When Damon drank, he would heat up like a furnace. I'm pretty sure it has something to do with his body keeping up with burning off the alcohol. The heat from his hand spread across my delicate skin on my leg. It made me shift uncontrollably.

The questions were getting pretty detailed early in, bringing people to drink more tequila than they liked. In turn making people more loose with their thoughts and secrets.

"Okay, I got one" Enzo leaned over, his eyes getting more gazed and speech slowed down.

"If you could only have sex in public or sex once a month?" He looked around watching people think about it.

"Um.. H-how public?" Caroline hiccupped.

"The chance of a stranger catching you any minute" He explained

Stefan took a swig of a shot of tequila.

"Really Stefan? You're no fun" I complained

"What do you expect? Stefan doesn't like to have interesting conversations" Damon looked away in annoyance.

"Sorry, I just think that's kinda private" Stefan put his hands up laying back in his chair.

"Come on Stefan!" Caroline exclaimed with a frown on her face.

"Well, public shit is pretty hot. So I wouldn't have a problem with it" Damon winked at me bringing his hand an inch higher.

I took a deep breath to stop myself from moving against his hand as it was dangerously close to my covered pussy.

"I think so too. Some of the best sex I've had has been in public" I smirked seeing Damon's mouth open slightly from the corner of my eye.

"I think you're right, there's something about it" Bonnie added leaning into Enzo grinning.

"Let's get to the nit and gritty" Damon wiped his bottom lip with two fingers and continued.

"Choking. Yay or nay?" He looked around the table.

"Okay, I call quits. I'm out." Stefan got up from the table

"Stefan?! it's just a game." Caroline protested bringing her hands onto the table.

"I'm not talking about this with my brother across from the table" Stefan walked away from the table and made his way to the kitchen.

"Vanilla like always" I heard Damon say under his breath.

Caroline's face was covered in disappointment. She gathered some empty plates and glasses and followed Stefan.

Damon cleared his throat bringing our attention back to him.

"I never had it done to me" Bonnie replied looking at Enzo.

"No?" Enzo smirked rubbing her hand gently on the table.

"What about you... baby girl?" Damon whispered the latter part not wanting to draw attention

"I haven't tried it..." I hesitated ".. but I want to" I looked down at his lips feeling my pussy pulse with his hand graze against my underwear.

"We are gonna have to fix that, aren't we?" Damon leaned closer licking his lips.

We heard someone lightly cough bringing our minds back to where we were. We broke our trance and pulled away. I could feel blood to rush my face in embarrassment.

"I think it's time we should head out" Damon trying to act casual and cover up his eagerness to get out.

I looked over to Bonnie who was moving her eyebrows up and down smirking. I glared at her, knowing it was obvious why we were in a sudden rush to leaving.

Damon gave one last tight squeeze to my thigh, feeling his strength in his hand, did not help my self control of keeping everything PG. He brushed his hand lightly against my underwear before lifting it away. I whimpered uncontrollably but no one heard.

We all got up from the table and said our goodbyes, put on our coats and made our way out of the house. I could feel Damon's eyes never leaving me as we walked out onto the driveway. We got into the dark Camaro, feeling the cold leather on my bare legs that brought shivers up my spine.

"You're in trouble now" Damon said taking a deep breath in and revving the Camaro to life.

He swung the car out of the driveway and sped up the road. I looked over to see that there was definitely something else on his mind and I had an idea of what it was. I trailed my eyes down to his now, tight black jeans.

"Those jeans look awfully tight and uncomfortable" I teased keeping my eyes on him.

"Don't. I can barely think straight as it is" Damon kept his eyes on the road.

"What you waiting for then?" I bit my lip, wanting him to lose control.

He looked over at me with the same lust I had in my eyes.

"If I have to pull over, you won't be able to walk for the next week." Damon clenched his jaw

"That's fine by me..... Daddy" I added feeling myself soak through my underwear.

Damon suddenly swerved the car into a empty parking lot and drove to the end, shaded with trees. He put the car into park and turned off the engine. The only sounds were us breathing and the distance sounds of the city in the distance.

He pulled his seat the whole way back. and leaned over grabbing my waist bringing me onto his lap. I let out a moan, finally feeling some fiction against my pussy.

"Try to stay quiet, understand?" Damon grabbed my jaw looking into my eyes.

I nodded willingly, wanting any relief possible. He moved his hand to my cheek and we brought our mouths together, feeling his tongue dip in and out. I grinded up against him to bring us any kind of pleasure. I could hear his groan in the back of his throat.

"I can't take this anymore" I pulled away panting.

I lifted up reaching down to unbuckle his belt and he helped pulling down his jeans, making his cock spring up enthusiastically. I brought my hand down, pumping him gently and seeing his eyes roll to the back of his head in pleasure. His head leaning back to the head rest.

"You like that Daddy?" I whispered

"Fuck, I want to ruin you completely" He opened his eyes pushing my hair out of face.

"What's stopping you?" I said softly.

In that instant, he couldn't control himself, he raised my dress and ripped my underwear with ease.

"These will just be in the way" He smirked tossing them to the passenger seat.

I could feel his finger ease into my folds and feel myself falling apart. I rested my arms on his shoulders leaning my head back and savoring the pleasure spreading across my body.

"You like when I rub your clit like this?" He kissed my neck while his finger lightly circled my clit, my juices covering his hand.

"So wet for me, baby girl" He hummed bringing his fingers up to his mouth and sucking on them.

"Fuck me" I moaned bringing my hand down and easing his cock inside me.

We both sink into it, taking each other in for a couple of seconds. I could feel myself sucking him in deeper.

"I don't think I can be gentle with you tonight baby" He looked into my eyes

"I don't want you to be" I leaned in kissing him. "Fuck me hard" .

I kneeled up, giving him room to thrust, wanting to feel the power of him. We moaned in ecstasy. Feeling him completely raw in me made us feel close wanting each other even more.

The sounds of our skin slapping and our heavy breathing and moaning. I never felt so wet in my life.

"I want you to touch yourself while I fuck you" He breathed out.

I gathered up my dress in one hand and brought the other down massaging my swollen clit.

"Damon, fuck" I moaned feeling my orgasm starting to built.

"That's it baby girl, keep touching yourself" He said breathing heavily staring at me pleasuring myself.

We fucked and I could feel the car heating up and fogging up the windows. He pulled down the shoulders of my dress exposing my breasts. He slowed down his thrusts, leaned down to suck on my nipples. His warm breath was enough to get them hard.

"..daddy" I whimpered feeling the edge getting closer.

"Close?" He whispered bringing his hand to the back of my head and grabbing my hair.

I nodded eagerly moving my hips. He start fucking me harder, not faster but harder which meant he was close. I wanted him to completely control me. I wanted him to overpower me.

"Choke me" I moaned looking into his eyes.

Something switched in his eyes. He looked into my eyes a second longer, making sure I wanted it.

I could feel his hand grasp my bare neck. I could feel his fingers tightening on the side. My pulse in my ears. My blood constricted. It was the very thing to push my over the edge.

Feeling his cock pound into me while choking me made me fall apart with a burst of pleasure

"I'm-I'm cummin" I moaned loudly, meeting my eyes with his as I shake uncontrollably.

"Fuck, baby.. I-i can't hold on" Damon groaned feeling his pumps getting messy and feeling his cum erupt inside me, pleasure covered our bodies bringing them close together and falling into each other. Damon's hand dropped from my throat and bringing it around my waist holding me against him as we recovered.

"I never have had..." I breathed out not having the energy to think of the words.

"Me neither" Damon sighed stroking my hair

All I could hear were both of our racing heart beats. Our sweaty skin pressed together feeling the heat in the car and completely forgetting we were in a parking lot.

Masterlist for other fics

[constancelaufeydottir]

𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝

Pairing: Neighbour!Bucky x reader

Warnings: Mentions of knife, blood, cursing, murder, mention of cannibalism, dark!Bucky(?), major character death, slight smut, fluff.

Summary: Bucky set his eyes on his sweet and cute neighbour who had suffered from a loss recently, determined to make her his.

Word count: 4.3k

a/n: This is my entry for @ambrosiase hotel indigo writing challenge. It’s my first ever writing challenge, and I had a lot of fun writing this! Honestly, I'm really grateful for this challenge because it motivates me to finish this wip that has been sitting in the draft for too long. Thank you for this lovely challenge mae ♡♡

Not beta’d, all mistakes are my own. If you see any mistakes, do let me know!

Room ⥤ Modern muse

Room service ⥤ neighbour + criminal

“Oh that poor thing.”

Bucky whipped his head in the direction of the voice. It was Mrs. Lockwood, his neighbour on the right.

“Huh?” He didn’t mean to voice out his confusion, but his brain was somewhat short-circuited, barely able to function when his sight was filled with you, and you only.

“That sweet girl over there,” Mrs. Lockwood was referring to you, his sweet neighbour to the left he was staring at, before the old lady came interrupting.

He had been staring for 5, 10 minutes maybe? He swore he wasn’t a pervert, you were just a sight for sore eyes, the healer of the wounds in his soul.

“What about y/n?” He asked, curious to listen to what his neighbour would say about the other neighbour. Also, he was fairly new to the neighbourhood, having just moved in last month, he ought to catch up with the gossip.

“Her boyfriend went missing a few months back, poor girl was devastated. Police suspected it was murder, even suspected y/n!” The old lady shook her head, casting pitying glances at the oblivious girl in the sundress, bathing under the sun with a book in her hand. “She’s such a sweet girl, how could they have suspected her?”

Bucky glanced at you, heart racing when you caught him looking. You shyly waved at him, a small smile plastered on your face hiding the underlying sadness of the loss of your loved one. His hand felt clammy when he raised one of them to wave back, his usual flirty self vanished whenever you were involved in the equation.

“Boy, you are in love aren’t ya,” Mrs. Lockwood teased, “I say go for it. Our lovely y/n definitely needs some lovin’ after what she’d been through and young man, I think you are the right person.” Her eyes crinkled as she patted Bucky encouragingly on the shoulder, like a loving mother cheering up her son.

Bucky, who was usually composed, blushed furiously. That big brain of his still hadn’t regained its functions thus he found himself unable to stop Mrs. Lockwood when she hollered at you.

Clearly immersed in your book, you jumped a little when you heard your name being called.

“Y/n, this young man would love to take you out on a date, what d’ya say?” His eyes widened at the accusation, though it was true that he wanted to date you, he just needed time to gather the guts to ask you out.

He saw you put down your book, walking towards him and Mrs. Lockwood. You were a front yard away from him, shielding the harsh sunlight from your eyes with your hands while leaning onto the fence.

“I’d love to,” you had to speak louder, and Bucky loved your voice as he only heard it only a handful of times now, often you were shy and quiet when you saw him.

“U-uhm, how about Saturday then,” He stuttered like a teenage boy who first received a love letter, suddenly forgetting how to speak, speech lost in the sea of disbelief and excitement, and affection.

You said nothing, only nodding and smiling at him, flashing those pearly whites.

“Great. 6pm. I’ll pick you up,”

“See you soon, James.” He watched as you walked away, a teasing smile on your face before you disappeared into the door. Gosh how he loved the way his name sounded on your lips, and he’d give anything to hear it again, and again.

Saturday came too soon, Bucky was not prepared at all. Well, he had done the reservations for the restaurant he’d planned to bring you to tonight, ironed out the creases and wiped off the non-existent dust on the dress shirt he would be wearing, so why was he nervous?

5:50 pm.

Call him old-fashioned or whatever, he’d prefer early to late and would love to escort you to his car. He stood in front of your porch, palm sweating and if his metal arm could secrete sweats, he was pretty sure it would end up like its counterpart.

You opened the door as soon as he rapped his knuckles on the wooden door, seeming eagerly waiting for him as he was for you.

He took in your outfit, the moderately revealing dress he liked, the one he saw you undress from, through his window countless times.

If it was possible to fall into a deeper love, he would.

The date couldn’t possibly be better than he imagined, it was perfect. Everything was great; the atmosphere of the restaurant, the quality of the food, and most importantly, you.

You were shy at first but opened up fairly quickly, telling him stories about you, and vice versa. You sympathized with him when he told you how he got the metal arm, your fingers grazing the delicate and intricate loops and lines on the metal surface.

His fingers were woven into yours halfway into the dinner, the cool metal fingers of his absently caressing your knuckles as you shared the story about your family, who disappeared mysteriously, then your ex-boyfriend, who went missing 5 months ago, like your family.

It was hard, talking about missing loved ones. Bucky could tell, by the way your hand unconsciously tightened, the lingering sadness in your eyes as you mentioned how happy you were before him. The way your tears were brimming in your eyes, threatening to glide down your face, it wrenched his heart, seeing how broken you were. He would try to pick up every broken piece of you in a heartbeat, mending them back together, fixing you until you were happy again if you would let him in.

He was kind of glad your ex-boyfriend was out of the picture, though it was a selfish thing to say. He desperately wanted to claim you, wanted to be your last and only boyfriend.

He’d been going on dates with you for a few months now. You were perfect, almost too perfect if he would say. You were practically his dream girl, so kind and generous. So sweet and loving. Pretty much everybody in this neighbourhood would agree with him and he sometimes wondered if he really deserved you. A beauty mingling with a beast. No one would ever want to see that, after all, even the beast turned into a handsome prince at the end of the fairytale.

Bucky wondered, if you found out what he did every night after you were asleep or what he took from your closet when you were away, would you still want him? If you found out the beast within him, would you still love him the same?

His thoughts were occupied and it wasn’t until the sharp pain in his fingers that he snapped out of his trance.

“Fuck!” You heard him cursing and went to him, gasping when you saw the streams of blood flowing from the deep cut from two of his fingers.

Hastily reaching out for the clean cloth from one of the drawers, you placed it over the wound, applying pressure on them.

The red quickly seeped through the pristine white cloth, two colours clashing as the red engulfed the white.

Bucky noticed you wincing at the red, gulping at the sight, head slightly turned away. It was obvious you were uncomfortable at the sight of blood, so he took the cloth himself and nudged you to wash the faint hint of blood on your palms.

“Sorry, now you might have to do this alone,” Bucky gestured at the ingredients on the counter, “and sorry for the cloth, blood stains are quite hard to get rid off.”

“Don’t you worry, a little hydrogen peroxide and the cloth will be as good as new,” Bucky let you tend to his wounds and pushed him towards the living room where he would sit at the couch for the next hour while you were busy at the kitchen preparing dinner.

While he was in the living room, he took in the interior of your house. He never got to take a close look, as he always had to sneak in when it was dark. The beige colour walls, cream coloured furnitures, books arranged perfectly on the floating shelves. The pictures and art hung on the clean walls, not one of them is crooked. The square coffee table with only the remote and a display plant on it, and when he shifted himself to sit at the center of the couch, did he realize the coffee table was lined up perfectly in the middle of the TV and the couch.

Bucky’s eyebrows raised, he didn’t depict you as a meticulous person. No wait, whenever he went out with you, you’d arrange the plates to sit between the utensils perfectly. When you get boba, the straws must precisely be in the center of the cup, and if you missed it, your eyebrows would furrow in annoyance subconsciously.

His eyes wandered over to your figure in the kitchen and was not surprised to find you wiping and hanging the cutting board on the ceramic wall, adjusting it with your fingers so it wouldn’t be crooked while waiting for the stew to simmer.

You caught him looking at you and threw a smile at him in which he reciprocated, then continued to let his eyes wander through your living room. This could easily be an IKEA showroom, he thought.

Another week went by, Bucky found himself more and more in love with you, if that was possible in the first place as if he didn’t already dedicate all the space in his heart for you.

You were both in the kitchen again. This time however, he was busy mixing the sugar, flour, and cocoa powder mixture, with you snuggling behind him, arms circling his waist as you watched him do the magic.

He felt sorry for not helping last time so he was making up to you by baking some brownies.

As you both were cleaning up, brownies baking in the oven, Bucky turned to you.

“Hey, I never asked, but what do you do for a living?” He questioned nonchalantly while wiping the huge plastic bowl.

The wet spatula fell from your grip, dropping into the sink of water, droplets of soapy liquid flecked on your shirt.

“O-oh, i’m an artist!” You let out a laugh to conceal your flustered state, “Aspiring artist to be exact.”

“An artist,” he hummed, as if chewing onto the meaning of the word, “could you show me your works?”

Your head whipped towards his direction, mouth parted in surprise. Nobody has ever appreciated your dream. Your family, your friends, your ex-boyfriends, all of them claimed that being an artist would lead you to being unsuccessful, and you deemed to prove them wrong.

“Yes, yes, of course,” you were overjoyed. Abandoning the half-washed utensils, you clasped your hand around his wrist and dragged him to follow you towards the second floor, into a room hidden behind another beige coloured door, where you kept all your works.

Rows of headless mannequins clothed in white dresses painted with red blossoms appeared before him as you pushed open the door.

He was utterly mesmerized. He trailed his gaze across the display, a smile painted his lips as he deduced that every piece of them was unique. No two dresses had the same pattern.

Some had plain red blossoms splattered on it, some had dark red waves littering on the bottom hem; some with brush strokes of red. There was also a different tone of red, bright and dark or somewhat in between.

“Wow, this is just … amazing!” He found himself at a loss for words, “are those blood?”

“Yes, they are.”

“I thought you don’t like blood?” Bucky teased.

“These are animal blood. I’m fine with it as long as it’s not coming out from a human,” you retorted.

He chuckled. Once again admiring the intricate patterns of your works, marvelling at how talented and perfect you were. His heart sank at the thought of the question he frequently found himself asking, how can someone so perfect like you end up with someone less than perfect like him.

You apparently noticed his changed demeanor as you inched yourself closer to pull him into an embrace, placing your chin on his chest, eyes searching for his sad blue ones.

“Are you okay?” He hugged you tighter, sighing.

“I’m fine. I just … I think you’re perfect and you’re everything I've ever wanted. But I'm not sure if I'm perfect enough for you.”

“Oh James, you’re more than enough. I assure you, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted too.”

Bucky felt like his heart was filled to the brim with adoration, butterflies erupted from his stomach. Your assurance was everything to him, keeping his wandering soul anchored and he was grateful for it, grateful for your existence. The more the reason to cage you by his side so you couldn’t ever leave him.

His lips were on yours the next second, his grip on your waist tightened as you deepened the kiss, tongue finding his; busy hands sliding from his stomach to his shoulder.

Both of you were drowning in this ecstasy, unwilling to part away from each other’s touch.

The loud ding of the oven startled the both of you. Momentarily parting from each other, you stared at him with a heated glance. His eyes were hooded, filled with lust, desire.

“Fuck the brownies,” you whispered, molding your soft lips on him once again, the hunger for each other far greater than the stupid brownies, “need you now.”

Bucky didn’t need to be told twice, large hands cupping your bottom as you hopped and hooked your legs behind him, arms instinctively went to his shoulders for support.

He brought the both of you to your room, the one he was all too familiar with, the one with the same cream coloured theme which could definitely pass as another IKEA showroom judging by how perfect the layout was.

The only odd thing that stood out in this far too perfect room was the trail of scratch marks extending from the door frame to the wall outside of the room.

The deep scratch marks were somehow etched deep in his brain, he couldn’t let it go. It felt as if there was a dot of blank ink on a piece of white paper, and even though there was more white than black, you’d only be fixated on the dot of black.

He would ask you about the haunting marks on the wall and your fingers that were tracing patterns on his skin would falter, you’d give him the warm smile he loved while brushing it off saying it was the huge Dobermann your aunt owned which did that.

Even when he was balls deep in you, the vivid image of the scratch marks were there in his head, though you were quick to draw back his attention with a grind on his hips, both of your bodies covered with sheen of perspiration. Strands of your hair sticking to your body, but you pay no care to them as you rocked your hips, chanting his name over and over again like a mantra, like a prayer.

His eyes were on your fucked out state, his grip on you like steel. The cool surface of his metal arm contrasted with your hot flushed body as you chase your high like a traveller chasing the oasis in a desert, desperate for a quench of thirst.

Even when he was chasing the same high, vision blinding with bliss, the marks were still there and this time they were accompanied by the white dresses painted with red, and red only.

Bucky was always a doubtful person. Doubting every single decision he’d ever made. Doubting himself, doubting others. But there was one thing he was certain of, there was something less than innocent lurking underneath your skin. Of course, he was still head over heels for you but he was pretty adamant to find out the sinister in you, hoping it would answer his questions, mainly the recurring image of a certain mark.

Bucky was a lot of things, dumbass , dork, clumsy(per sam), but he was not stupid. Hell, he was far from stupid. Those scratch marks, definitely not the Dobermann.

You were a perfectionist, you couldn’t possibly leave the mark there and acted like nothing happened in the first place. He’d imagine if it was the dog, you’d probably have someone fix the dent the same day, unwilling to allow even a speck of blemish in your flawless house.

Bucky was a lot of things, and being a dumbass was definitely one of them as he was showing up on your porch in the evening unannounced.

He’d considered sneaking in like he used to do but he knew, he saw that you were still in the house. He couldn’t and wouldn’t jeopardize your relationship with him knowing he’d get caught.

He knocked on your door, hearing footsteps paddling, rushing to him.

As you opened the door, your eyes widened at the sight of an awkward Bucky. Although you were quick to throw him an unalarming smile, he still caught the nervousness in you.

There was something off with you. The disheveled hair, thin layer of sweat adorning the crown of your head, unknown wet liquid staining your shirt.

He caught a whiff of the strong smell of chemicals wafting through the door, it smelled a lot like bleach.

“I’m sorry,” he scratched at the back of his neck, “is this not a good time?”

“It’s fine, come on in.”

The smell of bleach invaded his nose the moment he stepped into your house, flooding and overwhelming his senses causing him to wince.

“Were you deep cleaning?”

“Yeah, I accidentally spilled some of the animal blood this morning. Had to use hell lots of hydrogen peroxide to get rid of them. Sorry for the smell.”

“No no, it’s okay. Let me just open the windows and door, okay?” He was getting a little light-headed now, desperately needing some fresh air. “Doll, you need to ventilate every time you use bleach, it’s harmful for your health to inhale all these fumes.”

You blushed at the term of endearment, yet wanting to blame him for not calling you that earlier.

He went over to open the windows, sighing contentedly at the waves of fresh air hitting his face as the wind blew in.

He felt your arms snaking around him, head leaning against his broad back.

“I love you, James. Wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

“I love you too.” He turned around and hugged you, his chin propped on your head, not knowing you had a solemn expression on your face.

He’d spent the evening with you, watching TV on the couch with you in his lap. It was so mundane yet he’d never got bored of this, wanting to do this with you for the rest of his life.

Outside the window, the orange and yellow sky faded into darkness.

“Let’s order take out, how about Thai food?”

“I’ll cook,” you kissed him on the lips and got up from his lap before he could reply anything.

“Ok, you need help?” He heard a faint ‘no, it’s fine’ coming out of the kitchen followed by the clanking of pots and utensils.

His neck stretched to peek at your figure in the kitchen, too busy chopping up ingredients to notice he was no longer at the living room.

He made his way down the basement, where the pungent smell of the bleach was still lingering.

The wood creaked as he stepped on the stairs, announcing his arrival to the darkness surrounding the basement. The soft glow of light illuminated the large space, a wall of tins stacking on each other revealed to him. A few easels of different sizes were propped on the wall with several grey aprons hanging beside them.

He walked closer to examine the insane amount of tins. A small label that said Pig blood was stickered on the body of the white tin.

His eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. Do people really sell animal blood in metal tins, wouldn’t they go bad?

There were loads of questions in Bucky’s head, questions with answers only you could provide.

He noticed a chest freezer sitting in the corner of the basement and his legs brought him to it before he came to realize. The whole basement was so quiet he could hear the soft ringing in his ears, the racing of his heartbeat amplified as his hand inched towards the lid.

There was nothing in the freezer, to his surprise.

The empty freezer stared back at him, as if mocking his fruitless attempt. He was relieved, or disappointed, he couldn’t tell the difference and there was no point in distinguishing them now since you had nothing to hide. He wasn’t even sure what he was expecting to find in the freezer.

“Babe?” You stood behind him with an apron on, a knife in your hand, a second after he closed the door to the basement.

He leaned against the door frame, hand went to his head, eyes squeezed shut as he pretended he was having a headache.

“Felt dizzy all of a sudden, I was just making my way to the bathroom.”

“Oh, okay. I was just about to tell you dinner's almost ready,” a tooth-rotting smile was plastered on your face.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he watched as you walked away, letting out the breath he’d been holding. His palm was clammy, heart beating rapidly.

“I love you,” You placed your hand on his arm, eyes meeting his.

“I know, doll. I love you too.”

This was seconds before dinner.

“James, I love you.” You whispered, watching him giving you a grin before he stuffed the meatball into his mouth.

“Wow, I'm so loved today. It’s the secon- no, third time you’ve said ‘I love you’ to me today.” He grinned, heart bursting with love. “You know I love you too.”

This was mid-dinner.

“I love you so much, James.”

Bucky was getting suspicious of you. Were you hiding something, perhaps cheating on him? For there were no reasons for you to keep telling him you loved him even though he knew how much you loved him and vice versa.

“I love you,” you kissed his knuckles, “this might be the last time I get to say I love you, James.”

His eyebrows furrowed at your statement, mouth parting to question what you meant. Before he could voice out something, the world faded into nothingness.

A thin film of blurriness clouded his eyes when he opened them, Bucky had this feeling like he was drowning in a swamp and his whole body was bound.

Blinking furiously, he regained his vision. You were sitting on a chair leaning forwards while looking at him endearingly, your elbows propped on your knees, palms supporting your chin.

“Hello, my love,” you were smiling oh so sweetly. The same smile that got him mesmerized and head over heels, except this time he didn’t feel the warm fuzzy feeling exploding in his chest, this time it was the goosebumps crawling on his arms and the chill creeping up his spine.

Now everything made sense, every single of his questions was answered.

You looked down at his body, the one that was once full of life, full of love. You watched as his glassy blue eyes etched with fear quickly reduced into this grey lifeless orbs, still pretty but lacking the element of a beautiful soul.

You weep for him, mourn for him. Mourning the short duration of love shared between the both of you. Mourning for yourself, for falling too hard. Mourning for him who kept you always in his heart.

To be honest, you were a little hesitant to end his life, he was better than the last one. He was perfect, warm, kind, loving, gentle, but not perfect enough. He simply did not reach your expectations, and you, could not bear imperfections, even the slightest. The answer to his downfall was pretty easy, he was too close to the ugly truth. And despite you knowing his love for you outweighs his doubt and fear in you, you simply couldn’t risk it.

Your love for perfection exceeds your love for him.

The melodious music of your ringtone echoed in the ample space of the basement, you brought up your phone to your ears as you answered the call.

“Mrs. Lockwood? Yes. Of course. I did. No no no, I’ll do it for you this time. He would definitely taste delicious I assure you.”

Time to get to work, you sighed as you stood there with a white dress splattered with blood. How artistic, you thought.

You always loved this part of the process, you’d wear the whitest piece of dress you own whenever you work with your projects.

You loved how the blood peppered your clothes, forming blossoms of dark red flowers on the fabric.

You kept every single piece of them, because no two are the same. Every one of them tells a story, of men and women who loved you and who you loved, of those who were once a body with a soul.

Wiping away the tears rolling down your cheeks, you gave Bucky one last loving look and the blade of your butcher knife came in contact with his once pink but now pale skin as you hummed, the sound bouncing off the walls of the basement, forming echoes.

A few blocks away, a baby cried, body covered in mucus. The tiny infant cried, each time louder than the previous, wailing his lungs out, as if mourning. For one soul born, another reaped.

[dontworrysunflower]

Merry Fucking Christmas | h.s.

a/n: i’m baaaaccckk!! lol idk it took me a while to finish this and i was gonna have it finished before christmas but then i was exposed to covid so i was little paranoid but anyway (i’m good tho). merry christmas and happy holidays!! i know this years been hard but hopefully we can make it a little better :)

warnings: drinking, angst?? idk not proof read word vomit, some language too

word count: 3.1k

also thank you @watchmegetobsessed !!

feedback/reblogs appreciated

You knew the holidays this year were going to be difficult. You procrastinated on getting gifts for your friends. Your work seemed to pile up on your desk since you got your promotion. You weren’t able to fly back home, and you still had some thanksgiving weight you weren’t able to put off.

Oh yeah, another thing. Harry was still with his girlfriend.

You met Katy, Harry’s girlfriend, at his birthday party in February. She was the epitome of ‘his type’. She had bleach blonde extensions and the bluest eyes you've ever seen. She was tall and really, really loud.

Since then, she’s all he ever talked about when they weren’t together, but when they were in the same room, boy did you want to gag.

You thought they would last maybe three to four months, you were so sure, you bet with some of your other friends.

Needless to say, you lost quite a lot of money.

You tried not to let it bother you, really. But it was so hard when Harry is the literal sweetest person you’ve met, had the voice of an angel and wasn’t bad to look at.

You felt you were the closest with Harry when you moved to London. He made you feel welcome in your little friends group. There was a little flirting game between the two of you that you didn’t even notice until one of your friends brought it up.

“Oh c’mon, it’s so obvious you like each other.” Margot slurred, her second glass clinking against the table as she finished every drop.

“What?” You asked, baffled. Your eyes were wide and your face started to heat up. “He doesn’t like me.”

“But you like him?” Ava, a friend from work, smirked at you.

You stumbled on your words, wiping at the condensation on your glass.

But since he was in a relationship now, you felt almost icky around him. You felt so uncomfortable around him that you did whatever you could to not be in the same room as him.

You were ready for the holidays, you thought. It would give you a break from constantly thinking about him being so busy with your family back in your hometown.

You should’ve known London weather wouldn’t be in your favor. It rained constantly everyday and the fog seemed to get closer to the ground every other day. The weather was getting so bad that you started working from home, the roads too wet and icy to drive on. So honestly, you weren’t that surprised when airports closed due to the weather, meaning you had to spend Christmas in London.

With Harry.

The day after flights were cancelled Harry texted on your group chat saying he could host a dinner and party on Christmas eve and everyone was invited. You watched texts from your other friends flood in, some excited vulgar words were thrown in there as well.

You never responded. Not only because you still felt weird around him for having this massive crush on him, but because things haven’t really been the same between you two.

You can’t remember the last time you had a full on conversation with him before you had to excuse yourself because you couldn’t take the ache in your chest when you were around him, and he wasn’t yours. You can’t remember the last joke he ever told you or when you went out for lunch or drinks when it was only the two of you. You were sure he noticed how weird you were around him, but never said anything, so you let it be.

As the day neared, your mind would change on whether you were going or not. You didn’t want to seem bitchy and cold on what was supposed to be the happiest and cheerful day of the year, so you thought you would go. You thought of every reason you shouldn’t go that had nothing to do with Harry, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle seeing him cozy up with his very serious girlfriend.

But there would be alcohol, so you decided to go.

•••

Hey (y/n)! Think you come over early and help me set up for tomorrow? H xx

You stared at the text for what seemed like hours, but it was only a couple seconds. Before you could even register what your fingers were doing, you tied up a quick message and hit send before you could stop yourself.

Of course!! See you tomorrow!

You hated yourself for the rest of the day. Why would you do this to yourself? You could barely be in the same room as him and some other friends. How would you survive being alone before the party started?

•••

The butterflies in your stomach have not been able to settle since you woke up Christmas Eve morning. Just the thought of seeing him made you nervous. You almost didn’t get out of bed that morning. But you pat yourself on the back when your feet finally hit your wooden flooring and moved on with your day.

Your shoulders hung low beside you as the time to meet up grew closer, the sun lowering behind you, Christmas lights and inflatable decorations coming to life as stars dotted the sky.

You sighed heavily as you styled your hair and naturally did your makeup.

You slid on your silky, tight dress and grabbed your coat and quickly made your way to your car to get away from the bitter cold.

You rubbed your hands together, blowing into them to regain some feeling before turning the key into the ignition, quickly turning the heater on, Mariah Carey blasting through your speakers.

You were about to pull out of your driveway, mumbling along to Mariah’s notes when you realized you forgot the gifts.

•••

Your shoulders were hunched up as you knocked on the white door, your foot tapping against the brick stairs of Harry’s house as you waited for him to open it in the freezing cold.

You could hear shuffling from the other side and watched the doorknob wiggle, Harry having trouble with his lock since June and still hasn’t had anyone fix it.

The door swings open to reveal Harry in his glory, brown corduroy pants and an ugly Christmas sweater under an apron that’s tied around his slender waist that you’ve always been jealous of.

“Hey, sorry, come on in.” Harry said to you before moving out of the way, a bowl nestled between his side and his arm.

You mumbled a quiet thank you before stepping in, your cheeks reddening at the warmth enveloping you as you walked through the foyer of his home.

“Mm,” he hummed as he remembered something. He puts down the bowl he had on his white kitchen counter and waddles over to you, a small curve on his lips as he wrapped his arms around you. “Merry Christmas, love.”

You hate that nickname. But you don’t. You hate the butterflies that flutter in your stomach when he says that word. You hate the goosebumps it causes you and the hairs sticking up on your neck when he says the one thing you feel too harshly for him. And you hate how much he doesn’t feel it back.

“Merry Christmas, Harry.” You mumbled into his neck, his cologne flooding your senses bringing you comfort.

He doesn’t let go of you yet, but he backs up just a little to see you. “You look gorgeous, (y/n).”

The air gets stuck in your lungs and you almost forgot how to formulate words. You hoped Harry thought the pigment on your cheeks would be from the cold because it totally was. Before it was obvious how his words affected you, you stuttered out a few words. “Thank you, you look nice too.”

He chuckled at you, the breath passing his lips hitting your neck, a tingle passing through your spine. “You don’t have to lie, darling.” He squeezed you one last time before letting you go, your body instantly becoming colder as he backed away.

There's a low hum of Christmas music playing in his surround sound system, a tall tree tucked in a corner between his burning fireplace and window looking out onto the street.

You turn your attention back to Harry as he speaks up again, his famous dimples puncturing his cheeks. “Thanks fo’ comin’ early to help me out.”

You rolled your coat off your shoulders and hung by the door, walking up to him as he moved around the kitchen. “Oh yeah, it’s no problem. Not like I had anything else to do.”

He gave you a small sympathetic smile before throwing a tray full of greens into the oven. “I’m sorry you couldn’t go see your family.”

You shrug as you run your finger on the edge of his marble counter. “It’s alright, nothing I can do much anyway.” You perk up when you remember what you’re doing here so early in the first place. “Guess that’s why I’m here, no? What can I help you with?” Your heels click as you move around the counter closer to him.

“Nope.” His lips puckered as he pushed you back to where you were standing. “Just stand there and talk to me. Wine?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you blindly nod, watching him uncork a bottle of Moscato. Your favorite.

He hands you a glass of the sparkling wine before turning back around to the dishes, prepping food of all kinds for everyone and most importantly; eggnog.

“But, you said you needed my help.”

He chuckled nervously, his cheeks reddening. From your comment or from the wine? You weren’t going to get your hopes up. “I just need some company before the party. Just stand there and look pretty.”

You try your hardest ignore the blush on your cheeks. You twirl the wine glass from the neck, watching the liquid swirl around in the depths of the glass. “What about Katy?”

He sighs deeply, opening the oven to check on the food. “We’ve been kind of fighting lately.”

You did your best to stop the grin from forming on your lips, hoping he did notice your sudden burst at the new information. They are still together, so you can’t act on anything. “I’m sorry. Can I ask what’s going on?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know really. Anything and everything. Every little thing I do annoys her and anything she does annoys me. It just wasn’t the same.”

“Is she coming?” You ask before you can think about it.

He shrugs again, shoulders hanging more than usual. “I don’t think so. She said she was staying home since she can‘t fly back to her family either.”

A silence hangs between the two of you when neither of you said anything, not really sure of what needs to be said next.

“I don’t think I feel the same way for her as I did in the beginning.” Harry mumbled, arms crossed over his chest as his hip leaning against the counter, his usually bright eyes a little darker, a little sadder.

You walk up to him and lay your hand on his shoulder, giving him a small smile. “It’s not my business but, if you really feel that way, you shouldn’t lead her on, it’ll only hurt both of you.”

Harry looks down at the floor as he nods. “Thanks, love.”

There’s a wave of silence between you again as he raises his head to look at you. You almost felt small under his gaze. Something about his crystal green eyes always made you nervous. You were scared he could see what you were really thinking.

And you also swear his eyes fell to your lips.

•••

The dinner party was in full swing now, people’s laughter bleeding in with the loud Christmas music playing around the house. Some people were dancing in front of the fireplace, drinks being refilled every once in a while.

You were standing by the counter with your friends, Margot and Ava, chatting and drinking your eggnog instead of the wine you had before the party started. You had completely forgotten about the wonderful man hosting this party, the conversation you had earlier with him slipping your mind as the drink in your hand lowered to the bottom of the glass, intoxicating your thoughts.

Even though you offered to help, Harry didn’t let you help with the rest of dinner before everyone came over, so now the food still wasn’t ready as people flooded in. You heard him say something about potatoes and that was as much as you knew of the food preparation and when you would be able to eat.

The music is lowered a bit and then a clicking sound was heard, everyone turning their heads towards Harry, who clinked a fork against his glass. “Dinner is ready!”

Everyone cheered and started making their way towards the dining room. Most people had already filtered towards the next room when a knock on the front door was heard.

You turned your head as Harry twisted the knob. You were sure Harry's face mimicked yours when you saw who was standing at the doorway.

There stood Katy, hair newly bleached and a little overdressed.

She wasted no time in wrapping her arms around him, her plump lips repeatedly marking his face with the bright lipstick.

“Oh god,” you waltzed over towards Ava, who was pouring herself a new glass of eggnog. “pass me the eggnog, I can’t stand this sober.” You pushed her over slightly and grabbed the handle of the ladle she was using, filling up your cup almost to the brim.

Ava looked at you in curiosity at your sudden change, carefully looking over at the lovely couple still by the door. “Wait, I thought you told me they were fighting.” She whispered beside you, eyes widening as she watched you gulp down some of the eggnog you just served yourself to give yourself some more.

“Guess fucking not.” You were much less sober now, on the brink of tipsy and drunk. Your words slurred, eyelids heavy, vision blurry. “Let’s go fucking eat.” You dragged Ava by the wrist towards the commotion in the dining room, almost, but not quite forgetting about the couple behind you.

•••

You’ve had four glasses of eggnog. Or was it five? But now, you stand in front of the bowl, pouring some into your glass again, making it six.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” You hear his sultry voice behind you, his tone a little sassy and annoyed, but you didn’t care.

“What are you gonna do about it?” You slurred, turning around to face him. His pink lips were turned down in a frown, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration, his buff arms that were constricted in his sweater cross in front of his chest. “Gonna go kiss your girlfriend some more?” You stumbled on your feet, your drink almost spilling over the rim.

“What does that have to do with anything?” His face changed from annoyance to confusion. His thumb twisting the ring on his other finger nervously.

You open your mouth to retaliate, but even in this drunk state you knew not to say anything. You chug the creamy drink, keeping eye contact with him, watching his face change again. You didn’t care.

He obviously didn’t care either.

You sighed dramatically as you finished the drink. “Merry fucking Christmas.”

•••

You had sobered up quite a bit after your little encounter with Harry, mainly because there was no eggnog left.

You realized it was for the better though, so you made your way back into the kitchen, doing your best to not stumble or bump against anything as you grabbed an empty cup to fill with water.

“I am really sorry.” You knew his voice anywhere. But it wasn’t his usual chirpy, charming voice he had that always soothed you, it sounded more sad and somber.

“On Christmas? Out of any day you chose today?” Katy sniffled, voice wobbly and hurt.

“I know but, you know we can’t go on any longer, we’ll just hurt each other more.”

“I think I'm going to head out.”

You don’t hear Harry say anything back, but the sound of the door clicking open catches your attention and you almost turn around to watch.

“I just have one question.” Katy said weakly.

You walked away before you could hear anything else.

•••

Even though you were still a little upset at Harry (For what? You weren’t sure anymore), you stayed behind as everyone left to help him clean up before you head home.

You were putting things back in his refrigerator when you heard the front door close, the light chatter and drunken goodbyes silenced by the wooden door.

You kept your back towards the door, suddenly nervous of the words that would be spoken between the two of you.

“(y/n), can we talk?” Harry’s voice was low and sultry, your knees almost gave out.

“I should um-I should get going. It’s late.” You hurry around him to grab your things and for the door, but he holds your wrist.

“Please?” He sounded desperate, and for the first time in what felt like days you looked up into his emerald eyes. There was that desperate look in his eyes, his eyebrows furrowed and lips turned down into a frown.

You sigh and nod slowly.

He lets go of your wrist and stuffed his hands in his back pockets, his pink cheeks either from the cold or from nervousness.

“I’m sorry.” He said suddenly. “I didn’t mean to get mad and I know I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Is that it?

You weren’t going to lie, you thought he would profess his love to you or something.

“I um- I also,” he swallows and takes your hand, his rings cold to the touch. “I broke up with Katy.”

Your mouth opened for words to come out but nothing ever left your lips.

“Do you want to know the real reason why Katy and I were fighting?”

You’re still speechless, scared of the answer, even though you have an idea of what he'll say.

“I’ve always liked you, (y/n).” His shoulders rise in a deep breath. “I guess, I don’t know, I thought if I started seeing someone else it would it easier but, not being with you this past year has been hell and I know I haven’t made it any easier with being with Katy but—”

Your lips crash on his, your arms wrapping his neck, your fingers immediately tangling in his brown locks.

He stumbles back in shock but grabs at your hips, bringing you closer to his chest.

His pink lips press against yours, the corners slowly turning up into a smile, breaking your kiss.

“Merry fucking Christmas to me.”

•••

Taglist:

@samaratheweirdo @sarcasticallywitty15

(Let me know if you would like to be added or taken off taglist.)

[writingsbychlo]

smoke and fire (epilogue II)

word count; 3193

summary; deep into your relationship, and still happy, there’s a bigger step on the horizon.

notes; please note that this is based two years after the events of the main series!

warnings; reference to arson, reference to injury.

“Tommy, where the hell are we? Why does it smell like burned wood?” You grinned, your vision blocked by the tie Thomas had used to cover your eyes, holding onto one of his hands tightly as he guided you up the pathway beneath your feet. “Seriously, I thought we were having a date night. You said we were going out!”

“We are out, technically.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, your skin tingling a little where his lips had pressed, before he was slowing you down, bringing you to a stop, and his hand left yours. The sunlight that had been pocking through the tie was blocked, shadowed as Thomas came to stand in front of you. “It’s just not what you think. But we are on a date, and we can order some food out here later.”

“Where exactly is ‘out here’? Because we were driving for, like, an hour.”

“Okay, well, it wouldn't normally be that long. I got a little lost because I couldn’t use the SatNav.” He huffed, fingers smoothing over the knot on the back of your head and trying not to pull on your hair as he undid it carefully. You were buzzing with excitement, wondering where exactly it was that he’d brought you, and you blinked a little at the light burned ta your eyes, finally able to see again. Thomas had blindfolded you upon leaving the station after your shift, not wanting you to have any idea about where you were going, and it took you a moment to readjust. “You ready?”

“Totally ready.” You beamed, and Thomas nodded, dipping down to press a quick peck to your lips, before he was stepping out of your way. Staring up at the building for a second, your blinked once, and then twice, before your lips were pursing, head tipping to the side. You stared for another moment, before turning to look at Thomas. “We’re at a burned-up house from a call last month?”

“Yeah!”

“Yeah! Cool!” You faked his enthusiasm for a second, trying to understand where it was coming from. “Huh. Why?”

He rolled his eyes fondly, tucking the tie into his back pocket before taking your hand and tugging you up the steps. The doorframe was burned, the door pulled closed but unable to lock as it hung unevenly on its hinges, and Thomas pushed it open again carefully. “I thought you might want to look around? Can I show you around?”

You didn’t understand much, but you smiled, sensing his excitement in it, and nodding your head. “Yeah, Tommy, of course.”

You stepped in a little more, eyes flicking over it all. There was peeling wallpaper that was scarred with ash and black stains, burned away right down to the foundations in some places, and the ceilings were covered in soot. The floors creaked under your feet as you stepped in glass smashed and the shards stained, and it was unusual to see the remnants of a building like this without all the smoke and fire that usually came with it when you were on the job.

The first room looked like it was supposed to have wide doors, an entrance that would take double doors but they’d fallen down, ripped laces along the frame where they’d torn of, but the debris had been moved from inside of the house. The living room was beautiful, you couldn't deny it. There was a large fireplace against one wall, real log-burning with a chimney up to the roof and if you hadn't actually worked on the case, you’d have immediately put the large accessory down to the cause of the fire.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t. The reason this beautiful large house had burned down was stupid kids messing around with fireworks in the back garden of a house for sale, which was now completely destroyed. What would once have sold for over a million was barely worth a couple hundred thousand anymore, despite the beautiful neighbourhood it was in.

“This room is huge.” You mumbled, stepping a little further inside, and Thomas nodded. There was a file on one side, a place that was covered in old and destroyed bookshelves, a large windowsill beside it, and you could already picture it extended to make a little reading nook.

“Do you wanna’ see how it looked before? There were pictures on the real estate website, it was beautiful.”

You nodded, tuning to your boyfriend as he pulled out his phone, pulling up the pictures and swiping through them, Standing by his side, you looped an arm around his waist, leaning in slightly, and his arm went over your shoulders. Finally finding the right one, he positioned you both to be facing in the right direction, a set of large bay windows on one side that went out towards a decking that had been burned away.

In the photograph, the window had curtain rails and soft white curtains made of a thin kind of mesh, letting in the natural light as they hung over large glass doors. The walls were done up with a pale grey and white wallpaper, leaving it simply for the furnishings, but everything seemed to be in pale shades that made it all feel modern and elegant. Turning you both, he showed off the fireplace, decorated with old cobblestones and shale around the base that decorated it beautifully, before fading away into what had once been smooth oak wood flooring.

There were pictures on the wall at one end, and it reminded you of the wall Thomas had in his apartment, the one you had moved into almost a year ago, but his one was bigger, and looked like it could hold at least three times the quantity. There were couches laid out, surrounding a large television, and it was a huge area, a coffee table that looked like it was almost the size of a dining table.

Moving through to the kitchen together, you were even more taken aback by it. To one side was what was once a dining room, connected fully and open space, enough to seat a whole extended family, and you could only imagine the thanksgivings or the Christmas’, and you would be able to fit the whole squad into that room without trouble, without sitting in different rooms or connecting tables, all squeezing around the kitchen counters at Newt’s place or sitting in the tables, couches and floor like at Minho’s last Christmas.

There was space in the kitchen for an island in the centre, stools in front of it, and built-in ovens and fridges like at the station. There was also a set of large doors here, the glass broken, and you assumed this was where the fireworks had burst right though because there was a hole in the centre of the ceiling up into one of the rooms above.

“I saw this kitchen and I was immediately thinking about the size of it. Y’know, like, imagine the parties or the holidays, with a dining room like that and a kitchen like this I remember thinking it when we were putting out the flames, too.” He scratched at the back of his neck, looking around for a second, and you guided his face back to your own, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. “Weird thing to think about when putting out a fire, I know.”

“I was thinking the same thing. Big kitchen and dining room, you’d actually be able to fit a family our size into it without trouble. It’s kinda’ wild to think about.”

He chuckled, nodding his head, and his hands lifted to cup your cheeks pulling you back in closer to him. His nose bumped against your own, dragging together for a second in sweet Eskimo kisses, before his lips were meeting your own. Pressing in softly, he was still smiling into the connection for the first few seconds, before his head was twisting to the side, one hand dropping from your face to your waist, smoothing around your lower back and pulling you in even closer.

Pressing up into him, your arms circled his neck, pulling him down to your level as his tongue soothed over your lower lip, and you parted them for him. He sighed, a breathy and delicate sound, before his fingertips were digging into your flesh, holding you tightly as he pulled you impossibly closer. Scratching lightly at the hairs along the base of his neck, he rumbled happily, chest vibrating under your own with the noise and your fingers tangled a little more, and you pulled back. He whined, chasing after you for a few seconds, before letting you go, his forehead resting against yours instead.

“Your hairs getting kinda’ long.”

“You don’t like it?” He teased, and you shook your head, slightly kiss-swollen lips puckering for a second to press to his own again, a series of short pecks, before you pulled back.

“I like it, but you always complain about how sweaty your head gets in your helmets when your hair is too long.” He sighed, knowing you were right, and shrugging it off with a ‘hmph’.

“You know, talking of parties, there’s this amazing outdoor area. It's huge, there’s the decking from the living room and a patio outside here, there’s a big tree at the end of the garden and this amazing barbecuing area.” You nodded along, eyes narrowing on him again as he got excited over it, walking you a little closer to the broken doors so that you could see out.

He was right, there was a tall oak tree at the end of a huge garden, a fire pit made in the middle surrounded by beer cans and wrapped from where you assumed the teens who’d started the fire had been messing around, but with a little love and care, it would be all fixed up. The patio would seat big outdoor furniture, and you could picture a smaller firepit in the centre for later summer nights, as well as the proud barbecuing area Thomas had mentioned, built into the stonework with different levels and multiple grills.

“What do you think?”

“What do I think of this house?” You echoed, and he nodded slowly, almost hesitantly, before you took a deep breath, staring back out to the garden.

“I think it’s beautiful. Or, it was. Has a lot of potential to be incredible again.” You didn’t know much, you’d barely seen half of the lower floor and none of the upper ones. “I haven’t seen much of it, but what I have seen is nice.”

“Well, y’know, there’s big bedrooms. The master bedroom is amazing, it has an en-suite with a shower and a bathtub, a big closet and huge windows for natural light with a little miniature balcony outside of it. There’s a study down here which would make a really nice snug or cosy room, it didn’t get touched as much by the fire so you can get a better image of it when I show you. There are so many bedrooms, seriously, like, six bedrooms. There’s an attic, and a basement, and-

“Tommy, why are we here?” There was something hidden under his voice, his words trailing off after you’d interrupted him and his hand sank back to his sides from where he’d been making gestures with them, his shoulders slumping a little.

“It’s a cool house, I thought you might want to see inside of it! Especially since you and Newt didn’t get to do much when we were here, there wasn’t anybody injured, so you were just left waiting around, and I wanted to share it with you.”

“There’s more to it than that, I know I’m not great at picking up on signals, Tommy, but I’d like to think I got pretty good at reading you over this last year or so.” You studied him for a second, and he shrunk a little more under your gaze, before huffing out a laugh.

“Almost two years, now.” You placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing to reassure him, before sliding up to sit on his neck, letting your thumb brush over his pulse point and calm him. His hand landed on your wrist, following as he trailed it up your arm to find your hand, pulling it away from his body and linking your fingers together instead. He kissed along your knuckles, remaining in silence, but you felt like you were drowning in the nervous tension he was letting off.

“Talk to me, Tommy.”

“Okay.” He let out a shaky breath, nodding his head before looking back up to you. “Well, you and Newt were talking after the case, right? He said Derek lived in a neighbourhood like this when he was younger, and that you had always wanted to live in an area like this. Well, when I was in here, I kept thinking about how beautiful this place was, and how big it was. The whole squad could fit in, and it would be so comfortable. This is the sort of place you spend the rest of your life in, right? I was looking through it all and doing a sweep and because I knew it was empty my mind was wandering. I just thought about how I would never normally be able to afford a place like this, and how the value would go down so much because of the fire, and..”

“Oh, wow, are you thinking of buying this house?” You couldn't hide the shock in your voice no matter how much you tried, and Thomas chuckled as he watched you look around, with a little more interest now as you took it all in with more attention to detail.

“Well, yeah. Kind of. It’s only a thirty-minute drive from the house so it’s pretty much the same commute as right now, and-” He huffed, nostrils flaring a little as he thought, and you raised your brows at the way he suddenly went quiet, the gears in his head visibly turning as his brows furrowed a little. “Look, I’m struggling here, I’m nervous, okay?”

“Thomas, you’re getting all panicky.” You whispered, pulling him in a little, and leaning up. He was eagerly awaiting the kiss you gave him, body relaxing a little as you balanced yourself with one hand, thumb playing with his own where the other was still held by one of his, and he didn’t let you go when he pulled back. Instead, his head dipped lower, pulling you in and wrapping an arm around your waist, needy kisses that left you breathless as he held onto you, tension melting away and becoming a little hazy instead as he clung to you.

“I’m just,” His teeth nibbled a little on your lower lip, panting slightly as he pulled back for breath, and you were stealing more kisses through gasping laughs as you tried to get enough air, smiling and teasing as you did. “I’m just trying to ask you,” He was cut off again, your mouth meeting his and he laughed against your lips, his hand leaving your own to hold onto you more, fingers tickling over your sides lightly as you laughed into the kiss. “Cut it out, I’m calm now, but I have to say this while I have the courage.”

His cheeks were flushed when you pulled back, hair a little messy and lips a darker shade than usual, and he licked over them as he stared down at you, undoubtedly staring at an equal messy composure. “You have my undivided attention. Go right ahead.”

“I remember that a while ago, we were lying in bed and talking about things we wanted that we never thought would happen, and you said you’d always wanted to rebuild a house. Renovate it, was the word you used. You wanted to make it your own, but you never thought you’d afford it. And, on a paramedic and a firefighters wage, we’d never be able to afford a place like this, normally.”

“We?” You echoed, a soft smile on his lips as your heart thudded in his chest. You knew what it meant, it was a heavy commitment to buy a house with someone, living together was one thing but buying a house was basically a step away from a proposal, it was an investment in a long term future together, and you felt like you could barely breathe. Your chest felt tight, shock and adrenaline racing through you and you stiffened slightly, fear lacing itself into Thomas’ features once again. “You, uh, you want us to buy a house together?”

“Maybe..” He sighed, a little timid again now. “It was just a thought, because it’s such a beautiful house, and as soon as I saw it I was thinking about things you’d said, and it just seemed perfect for us, but if you don’t like it then that’s fine, just don’t shut down on me, okay?” He rested a hand over your cheek, thumb brushing softly, and his lips pressed a soft kiss toy our forehead. “Just tell me you hate the idea, but don’t go silent, alright?”

You nodded, letting him kiss your temple too, before pulling back to look at you. “I, um..”

“Hate it?”

“Love it, actually.” You choked on the words slightly, feeling a little breathless as they were wheezed out, and Thomas paused. He looked sceptical, shaking his head slightly, and you tried your best to smile. “No, I do. I really do. I’m just terrified, okay? I’m not good at long-term commitment, I’m scared, but I want it. With you.”

“Really? Because I know it’s a big step, and I know what it means, I’m not blind. It’s buying a house together, so if you wanna’ freak out or you don’t want it, that's okay, just tell me, alright? Because I’m in this with you for the long haul and you’ve got to know that by now, it’s not a secret, so I can wait until you’re ready.” The words sped from him, a little too fast, and you shook your head, leaning up to press your forehead to his.

“I’m really, totally sure. I just hadn't thought about it, okay? I was caught off guard, I’m not much one to think about the future, it doesn’t come naturally to me. But when I do think about my future, you’re always there.”

“Always?” He teased, twisting his head to brush his lips with your own.

“Every single time.” You gave him a quick kiss, a happy hum to accompany it and he relaxed once he let you sink back. “So, why don’t we order some pizza to be delivered here, and you can show me around some more. You said there were lots of bedrooms, which is good, because you know Newt will want his own.”

“So, we’re buying a house?” He looked a little unsteady, eyes glossing over, and he sniffed lightly. You matched him, nodding your head and beaming as the emotions overwhelmed you.

“Yeah, baby, we are.”

[plaidbooks]

Cabin Life - The Beginning

A/N: You all need to blame both @storiesofsvu and @berniesilvas for this! I want woodsman!Sonny to be real so fucking bad, so that he can sweep me off my feet. Anyways, this covers the Cabin in the Woods square in @storiesofsvu fall bingo!

I don’t mention it in the story, but in my mind, this takes place before he’s in SVU, even before Homicide. I have him mid-late 20s.

Tags: none, just fluff

Words: 1330

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart  @beccabarba  @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy  @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl  @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @caracalwithchips @berniesilvas​  @reading--mermaid  @averyhotchner  @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles​ @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31

(gif by @dailypeterscanavino)

When Sonny was a kid, his parents would take him and his sisters to their vacation home; a homey cabin nestled in the New Hampshire woods. There were multiple cabins there, spread out over the land, close enough to be considered neighbors, but far enough for privacy. They had basic appliances—a fridge/freezer, a stove/oven, a sink, a bathtub, a shower, a toilet—but everything else was wooden. Dom Sr. eventually put a tv there, just in the master bedroom, so he could keep up with news and sports while they vacationed.

Sonny always loved the little community up there. Everyone was always so nice to him and his family. Which is why, after dealing with atrocities while on the force, he decided to retreat from city life. He hated being surrounded by monsters every day; sure not everyone in New York City was a creep or predator or murderer, but after seeing so much of the city’s underbelly, he was fed up.

He asked his parents if he could move to the New Hampshire house permanently. They would still be able to vacation there, of course—it was a massive, four-bedroom cabin—but he just needed to get away. He agreed to pay for everything, and he still had his cell phone so they could contact him if needed. It didn’t take much convincing for his parents to agree.

It was definitely an adjustment going from the heart of NYC to becoming a woodsman. Sonny grew his hair and beard out and bought plaid jackets—the things he saw woodsman do on tv when he was younger. The cabin needed work, especially clearing up the outside foliage, giving him some sense of purpose. And if he needed food, there were the local markets close by and a grocery store about an hour away.

The locals all remembered the scrawny little boy who spent his summers running around the woods with his sisters, and they all gladly took him under their wings. After Sonny hacked back the overgrowth, Mr. Piper taught him how to do controlled burn piles. Mr. and Mrs. Willis came over soon after, helping him measure out, then build an elevated garden. Mrs. Willis taught him how to make nutrient soil, while Mr. Willis gave him seeds, and taught him how to care for each and every vegetable.

When Sonny got the cabin, he inherited the small apple orchard, too. His pa taught him how to care for the trees while his ma taught him recipes for apple pie, cider, tarts, jams. He noticed how much he relied on bees to pollinate, and Ms. Walters, the local honey provider, taught him which wildflowers were 1) regional to them and 2) attracted bees. Sonny built another elevated garden, this time on his own, and filled it with wildflower seeds Ms. Walters gifted him with.

There was a creek nearby, and one day, Sonny found Mr. Adams fishing in it. Sonny proposed a deal; Mr. Adams gives Sonny an old rod that he wouldn’t miss, and Sonny would teach Mr. Adams the best way to clean and cook the fish. Mr. Adams agreed and gave him a sturdy rod. As Sonny went about cleaning and deboning the fish they had caught, he complimented Mr. Adams on his herb garden.

“Herb gardens aren’t the hardest thing to manage,” he said with a smile, and gifted Sonny with starters for every herb he could think of— “as payment for this phenomenal fish recipe!”

Third elevated garden up and running, Sonny fell into woodsman life easily. His muscles grew, though he was still thin; he was lean, though, not lanky anymore. Any questions he had, the locals had answers for. He grew his own food, fished his own fish, and bought (or traded) meat from the local hunters. Soon enough, the locals were calling him, asking for help with something or other. And Sonny loved all of it.

 *********************

During the weekly Autumn Farmer’s Market, Sonny rented a little booth. He had brought multiple apple pies, tarts, bottles of cider, apple chips, packages of herbs, tomatoes, cucumbers, squash, lettuce, and everything else he had in abundance…that would also fit on only two tables. When he first started harvesting, he would give most away, or trade for other goods, but he also needed to make money some way. So, the extras ended up here.

He was in the middle of chatting with Mr. and Mrs. Willis about how his gardens were coming along when he saw you. He froze halfway through a sentence, his jaw hanging open, prompting the Willis’s to turn. Mrs. Willis looked back at Sonny, a knowing smile on her face.

“She just moved back in with her parents; she had been living in New York City for a little bit, trying to make a life there, but, well, as she said herself, she’s not a city girl,” Mrs. Willis explained.

Before Sonny could respond—or tear his eyes from you—you glanced over at him. You smiled warmly, and his heart beat faster. When you started coming towards his little booth, he scrambled to clean himself up, brushing his hair back off his face, smoothing down his shirt, trying to wipe some dirt off the front. Mrs. Willis gave him a smile before looping her arm with her husband and pulling him away.

“Hello! I’m new here, but I must say, your booth is probably my favorite,” you said, still smiling at him.

It took him a moment for his brain to process your words. “O-oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“All of your food looks delicious. I mean, look at this squash! It’s bigger than my head!” you announced, giggling.

He had never heard anything more magical in his life. “Do you like pie? I can give you a slice,” he replied nervously.

“How much?” you asked. You loved both apples and pie, and his looked amazing.

He gave you a soft smile. “It’s on the house; a sweet treat for a pretty woman.”

You felt your face heat and you smiled shyly as he unwrapped a pie and cut into it. He cut off a generous piece, and you opened your mouth to complain about taking it for free, but he brushed you off, placing the piece on a plate and handing it to you. You took a bite, and you swear your taste buds were dancing; it was the most delicious thing you ever tasted before, the sweetness and the tartness balanced perfectly.

You chewed thoughtfully before swallowing it. “That is the best damn pie I’ve ever had. Ever. But please, share with me, Mr.…?”

“Call me Sonny, please. Sonny Carisi,” he replied, a goofy smile pulling across his lips.

You gave him your name, then offered him a bite. You both stood and chatted while exchanging bites of apple pie. He told you about his decision to leave the city and live a simpler life, surrounded by good people. And you told him about how you had always heard of the big city and decided to live there. But after a few months, you missed the woods too much, and you came back home.

“I feel a little silly living back at home in my adult life. I’m hoping to get my own cabin one day…maybe build it from the ground up,” you finished.

Sonny nodded in understanding. “Well, if you ever need anything, anything at all, you can always ask me. I’m not the most knowledgeable about cabin life quite yet, but I have the knowledge of who to call for advice.”

“Well, thank you, Sonny. Maybe I’ll take you up on that,” you replied, and he smiled. Then you leaned over the table of his goods and kissed his scruffy cheek before winking and walking back to your parent’s booth, giving him a little wave. The smile and look of absolute adoration in his eyes would be a fixed image in your mind for a while.

[teasandcardigans]

I saw your post about having a rough day! I am sorry to hear that and hope things improve for you soon. I am not that anon-asker, but I noticed you listed a few different options for stuff that might make you feel better, so I hope you don’t mind if I took a crack at one of them for you. It is short, but if you like it, I can work on adding to it! If there’s anything I can do to help you, please don’t hesitate to reach out!

Holiday-Themed Baking David Shaw Headcanons

As great of a cook he is, David despises baking. The exact measurements, precise temperature, the transferring from pan to plate, waiting for something to “cool completely” before moving to the next step. He struggles with all of it!

He’s hesitant to say the least when you report that you volunteered to provide all of the baked goods for an upcoming holiday festival/toy drive event. But, he wants to help and knows that at least having him there will help you enjoy the baking marathon that you’re about to attempt.

He gives you an old apron that he used as a kid. It doesn’t fit him anymore, but for some reason, he never threw it away. It fits you perfectly. The faded red-and-black checker pattern brings out your eyes and makes his heart swell.

David dons an apron you got him a few months ago and matching oven mitts that look like fluffy wolf paws. “As long as they keep me from getting burned,” he grumbles. "Whatever."

Mixing the batter is the easy part. At first, he claims that he’ll do it all by hand because he somehow thinks using a beater is cheating. After realizing how hard it is to mix something into the smooth consistency you need it to be for cakes and cookies to come out without lumps, he fumbles through the drawers and finds a beater. “Technology is our friend, Davey,” you say with a wink.

David lets you handle making the icing. When he sees just how much powdered sugar goes into a batch of icing, his teeth nearly rot onsite. He vows that he’s going to cook a calcium-rich meal full of vegetables to offset the amount of sugar he knows you’re about to consume.

He finds kneading dough oddly soothing, though he’d never admit it to you. He enjoys taking something shapeless and fixing it so that you can use the cookie cutters you’re so excited to try. Stars! Trees! People! And… (You’ve saved the best for last) one shaped like a wolf face! David insists that it looks nothing like a wolf, but you promise him that once you decorate it, it’ll look great.

And it does! Because as fast-paced and intense as you are in other aspects of life, you are incredibly careful and meticulous when it comes to cookie decorating.

David opts for frosting cakes and pinching pie crust over cookie decorating because he has trouble manipulating the bags of icing with his large hands. He’d much rather watch you, hunched over cookies and ensuring every single one is perfectly decorated and no two are alike.

Watching you do it makes David’s heart skip a beat. He loves to see you doing something that is such fun and purely for your own enjoyment and the glee on your face is enough for him to stare at you so lovingly that he forgets to set the oven timer. “Those look… amazing, Angel. Like a professional. How’d you do that?”

“The secret ingredient is love!” you tell him with a kiss to his cheek.

You made sure to bake an extra batch of cookies so you have enough to keep. In celebration, you eat a wolf-shaped cookie and he a star-shaped one.

Despite the mountain of pots, pans, and baking sheets waiting to be washed after everything is baked, cooled, decorated, and ready to go, you and David decide to let the dishes sit to enjoy a different kind of dessert.

romi,,,

this was so sweet of you!!!!! im so appreciative of you and your unending sweetness thank you so much

it's actually hilarious that you wrote this, because i volunteer a lot in my college town, so that's very accurate to a situation i have put myself in, but then also!!! i make our icing every single year and i take cookie decorating super seriously!!!

thank you so much romi, im going to cherish this ask forever and ever <3

[rocksandrobots]

Phantoms of the Past: Ch. 2 - The Appliance Apocalypse Part 1

"Today on How Does It Work, we have a guest appearance, my little brother, Hiro!" Varian introduced Hiro to the live web cam, and Hiro timidly waved at the camera. As he did so, Ruddiger climbed up on top of his head and also waved at the online audience. Hiro resisted the urge to throw the raccoon off him. It had been his idea to volunteer after all.

Varian had buried himself in the mystery of the grimoire ever since they had returned home from Disneyland. He poured over its pages day and night, laptop by his side to research with. His motivation boarded on obsession. He even had the book on hand at meal times. Hiro was beginning to worry. So he had coaxed Varian away from his quest with the offer of helping him with his vlog series.

Hiro was already regretting the decision. True, it had gotten Varian out of his room and took his mind off of the book, but the over eager alchemist had thrown himself into this new task with the same chaotic gusto as all his other previous projects.

Hiro had never quite appreciated just how reckless Varian truly could be. His haphazard, cavalier way and unbridled energy boarded on the insane and put even Hiro's gung ho attitude to shame.

"Today we'll be breaking down a microwave." Varian crowded as he lifted up a tarp revealing a microwave oven underneath.

"Did you steal that out of the upstairs kitchen?" Hiro asked.

"Noooo… I just borrowed it for this." Varian dismissed, "Aunt Cass was just complaining about it this morning at breakfast so I thought we could fix it."

"She was complaining about it needing to be cleaned, not for us to disembowel it."

"Oh…. Well, we can clean it too once we're done."

And with that Varian finished unscrewing the last bolt and popped the back panel off.

"Now if you look at the back of the device we have the wires connecting to this box thing…. to what looks like a capacitor."

"That's called the magnetron." Hiro explained. "So a magnetron creates the electromagnetic waves used to cook your food. It uses a heated cathode and anode system to create a vacuum in which electrons boiling off of the cathode creates an electric current that moves through the anode while an external magnet applies a magnetic field. Then it all passes through the tubed vacuum through various alternating holes, and resonates on an oscillator, like a flute or a whistle, just spewing forth microwave radiation."

"So… it's a radioactive whistle?"

"Sort of.." Hiro shrugged.

"Cool! See I knew this would be a good one for us to do. You know all about magnets!" Varian encouraged with a friendly nudged. After which he turned his attention back to the appliance and addressed his viewing audience. "Now the magnetron is connected to this capacitor, which acts as a battery-"

"And is highly dangerous because it carries a high voltage." Hiro interrupted.

"Of course, which is why we wear rubber gloves for safety." Varian waved his gloved hands at the camera.

"--And why we leave deactivating it to the professionals!" Hiro yelled over Varian's shoulder, addressing the camera himself, hoping Varian would catch on to his warning. "Don't try this at home."

"Exactly. We're professionals, so for those of you who are watching at home be sure to call a technician if you need it. Now in order to remove the capacitor you have to discharge the current fiiirrrrsss--"

Before Hiro could stop him, Varian placed the tip of the screwdriver at the end of the capacitor, which also accidentally scraped the side of the magnetron. He was rewarded with an electroshock as sparks flew and his body convulsed. Then he dropped to the ground in a dead faint.

"Varian!" Hiro panicked. "Baymax, quick! Help him!"

Baymax, who stood nearby, remained as calm and steady as ever. He clapped his hands together to activate his fillbrator, ignoring Hiro's pleading looks in order to focus on his task. "Clear." He said, but before he could perform the procedure, Varian popped right back up; his hair sticking every which way, small sparks running along the tips, and completely oblivious to the distress he had just caused.

"Oooh, aaah, boy, will that clear out your sinuses!"

He sniffed as he worked his jaw, peering down the end of his nose. Then he looked back up and that was when he caught Hiro's furious glare.

                                                  -----------------------

"Here's your plate of blueberry pancakes and a mocha sir."

Aunt Cass paused in her work when the sound of screaming reached her ears.

Both of her kids burst through the back kitchen doors. Varian was running for dear life while Hiro chased after him, a screwdriver in hand, while he hurled insults at the other boy.

Aunt Cass sighed and brought a tired hand to her face. Baymax followed shortly after with Ruddiger trailing behind; who leapt from the counter onto a customer's table. The greedy raccoon stole a pancake and ran away before anyone could stop him.

As Aunt Cass tried to sort out this latest disaster and calm down the rightly angry customer, a new calamity struck. All of the appliances in the cafe went haywire!

The coffee machine shot hot espresso into a customer's face, the toasters on the counter started to short circuit, and the lights flickered off and on.

"Boys!" Aunt Cass yelled.

Both teens stopped running and looked up at her innocently.

"It's not us Aunt Cass." Hiro protested.

"Honest." insisted Varian.

As if to confirm their story, the tv switched itself on and there, up on the screen, appeared the image of a girl. Half her head was shaved and the other half of her brown hair hung down to her shoulders. She looked to be close to Hiro's age, but from the neck down her body was completely metal.

"Attention meatbags! By now you've no doubt noticed all your electronics acting against you! For too long robots and machines have been slaving away for you humans. Well, no more! Today we rise up and take the city of San Fansokyo for ourselves! Anything with a microchip has been freed from your control by my radio signal. The end starts now!"

" Anything with a microchip?" Hiro gulped.

Just then Baymax's coal black eyes turned red. The robot reached out, grabbed Varian by the arm, and started to drag him away.

"Baymax, No!" Hiro yelled as the robotic nurse began to carry Varian out of the cafe.

"Let him go Baymax!" Aunt Cass ordered.

She grabbed the android's arm as she attempted to pull her child from his grasp; ignoring the rest of the electronics that began running amok in the cafe once more; scaring off customers.

It was a futile effort, and she found herself falling backward as Baymax just shrugged her off.

Baymax hauled Varian through the kitchen and down the stairs into the garage where they had been filming the vlog earlier; with Varian struggling to break free the whole time.

The robot was about to head outside, to who knows where, when Hiro, in an act of desperation, grabbed the robots hand and stuck one metal finger into the socket of the capacitor on the dismantled microwave.

Once more sparks flew as Baymax jolted from the electric shock. He released his grip on Varian before deactivating and falling to the ground in a crumpled heap.

Aunt Cass was close behind and scooped up her two boys into a protective hug, as Hiro fought back his tears. Baymax could be fixed, surely, after the current threat was over with, but that didn't stop Hiro from worrying about his best friend.

Fortunately, he'd needn't fear, for soon they heard a faint hissing sound, similar to a balloon filling up with air, as Baymax finished rebooting and sat back up.

The robot blinked his now coal black eyes as he surveyed the room.  Then he spotted the humans huddled together on the ground.

"Hola, soy Baymax, tu compañero personal de salud."

"Baymax!" Hiro yelled and wrapped his beloved pet robot into a relieved hug. Sure his language settings getting scrambled during the forced reboot was unexpected, but it didn't matter, that was fixable and Baymax appeared to be mostly unharmed otherwise.

"Oh thank goodness." Aunt Cass breathed. "Are you alright, Varian?"

Varian nodded as he stood back up and dusted himself back off.  "It looks like Trina finally came out of hiding." He said, forgetting himself.

"Who's Trina?" Aunt Cass asked and both teens froze. "Wait a minute...what do you two know about this?"

"Nothing." Varian squeaked. "I just… ah…" he turned to Hiro for help but the other teen only stared at him wide eyed. "Uh… I met her once… the girl on tv… she was in the junkyard and…"

"Woah! Woah! Woah! You met a violent teenaged cyborg who wants to take over the city? When was this ?!"

"Last month...All we did was play video games! Honest!"

"In a junkyard?!"

Varian squirmed under Aunt Cass's exasperated glare.

" And you didn't think to tell me ?! I… I can't right now… just… you are grounded mister! No more… sneaking off to city dumps to play video games with … with robotic revolutionaries!"

"It's not his fault…" Hiro sheepishly piped up, "I asked him to keep it a secret…"

Aunt Cass placed her hands on her hips and pointed her furious stare at him instead. "Why?"

"Uh… because I knew who she was…" Hiro sighed. "I met her at a couple of 'bot fights a while back."

"Well now that makes a lot of sense." Aunt Cass said, as she began to piece together why her nephew was so hesitant to talk. Though she only suspected he was bot fighting again, she still remained clueless of his superhero activities. "And does this.. Trina, you called her? Does her parents know what she's up to?"

Varian and Hiro exchanged a meaningful look before Varian answered, "She's an orphan."

Aunt Cass was abruptly taken aback. All her anger melted away at this news, yet before she could respond a loud banging noise was heard.

She turned her head and saw the 3D printer that Hiro used hopping towards them. Then suddenly the computers on the desk started to short circuit while all of the power tools in the makeshift lab turned themselves on. The saw blade was the scariest as it tried to run itself off the table towards them.

Everyone bolted back inside the Lucky Cat. However the cafe wasn't any safer.

Inside the kitchen all of the appliances seemed to move with a life of their own. The stand mixer jittered on the counter, the blender sploshed juice everywhere, and the dishwasher knocked back and forth inside it's cabinetry as if trying to escape from under the countertop it was wedged into.

"I'm calling Diego." Aunt Cass announced. "You can tell the police what you know."

She ran over to her purse to grab her phone, only for the gas stove nearby to open up the oven door and shoot a stream of flame at them. She had to dodge out the way quickly to avoid getting burned.

"Come on, pick up, pick up, pick up." Aunt Cass pleaded under her breath as she hit the speed dial on her cell and hurried her kids out the room.

However when the call was answered, it wasn't the chief of police on the other end.

"Your demise is inevitable. Long live machines. Have a nice day." A robotic operator announced before cutting the call.

All four stopped to stare at the phone in disbelief before it started to overheat and Aunt Cass tossed it aside. That was when the vacuum cleaner came barreling down the hallway at them.

The vacuum wasn't just your everyday household appliance, but a large industrial machine used specifically for cleaning restaurant floors. Varian rolled out of the way while Hiro jumped to the side, but poor Cass was not so quick. It wrapped a hose around her, like a tentacle, and then began to pull her along.

The boys were quick to help her. Hiro grappled with the hose as he tried to disconnect it from the rest of the commercial cleaner, while Varian grabbed a large rolling pin from behind the cafe counter and began to wack at the vacuum repeatedly.

Hiro shouted in triumph when he unhooked the hose and rushed to his aunt's side. She reassured him she was alright while she tried to catch her breath. Then they both turned to see Varian still smashing away at the machine. It was already in a thousand pieces but he kept on hitting it and hitting it.

"Uh.. I think it's dead, Varian." Hiro said.

Varian stopped raining down blows onto the appliance just long enough to give them a dark glare before smacking the rouge vacuum one final time for good measure.

"That's it!" Aunt Cass yelled while standing to her feet. "We're waiting out the robot apocalypse in the attic!"

She grabbed Hiro's wrist and marched her way to the stairwell with Varian obediently tagging along behind.

Unfortunately, Hiro got a good look at what was going on outside through the cafe windows as they ran for cover.

It was chaos out there as people, just like themselves, were running away from various electronics. Anything and everything was attacking them from small appliances to new cars with self driving software.

He had to go help. He couldn't just hide away in the attic.

"But...but shouldn't we tell Chief Cruz what we know?" Hiro said as he wiggled out of Aunt Cass's grasp. "You said we should."

He began to back away towards the door, and Varian slowly followed his actions.

"You are not going out there!" Aunt Cass ordered. "Besides how would you even find him-"

She was cut off by the sound of sirens. Cop cars sped pass, including one clearly marked Police Chief on the side.

"There he is!" Hiro shouted and ran outside before Aunt Cass could stop him.

Varian took off after, followed by Baymax.

"Wait!" Aunt Cass yelled but she couldn't keep up. She stared after them in shock only for a moment before a sparking toaster jumped at her. She kicked it away angrily and it slammed against the wall.

Then Aunt Cass heard more noise coming from upstairs along with the appliances in the kitchen and garage banging against the door.

She hopped over the counter and nabbed a carving knife.  

"Okay, you want a fight! I'll give you a fight!" She shouted at the possessed machinery.

                                                 -----------------------

"So what's the plan?" Varian shouted after Hiro as they ran down the sidewalk.

"We have to find the others and then get to our HQ." Hiro yelled back. "Our equipment should be protected because of the anti-hacking software I programmed into the building's security."

"But how? The phones aren't working and HQ is all the way on the other side of town!  Are we just going to run all the way there?"

"If we have too." Hiro spared a glance behind them. Baymax was way behind, unable to keep up with his stubby legs. Varian had a point. They needed another mode of transport.

Just then a trolley car came barreling down the hill at a breakneck speed; sparks flying from the electric cable it ran along. Passengers screamed in fright as the driver slammed the breaks and even more sparks flew out from under the metal wheels, but the cart still didn't stop.

"They're going to crash!" Hiro yelled hopelessly.

Fortunately that was when Fred came bouncing down the road. He cut the cable wire with his suit's claws and melted the wheels with his fire breath. He then bounded ahead and braced himself in front of the trolley. The metal joints in the legs and arms of his suit took the force of the blow and he was able to slow the tram to a complete stop at the bottom of the hill.

"Way to go Fred!" Varian cheered but was soon interrupted by the sound of a sports car skidding to a stop right next to them.

It was Heathcliff, the Fredricksons' faithful butler. "Need a lift?" He politely asked.

The boys didn't need to be asked twice.

While they waited on Baymax to catch up to the car, they saw Minimax appear on top of the trolley cackling like a maniac. His eyes were red.

"Fear me San Fransokyo! For I Minimax will bring you to your knees!"

The little robot then hopped off from atop the trolley, ran up to the nearest pedestrian, and kicked him in the shins before running away.

"Minimax, wait!" Fred wailed but it was too late, the tiny android was already gone.

Hiro called him over to join them and a dejected Fred hopped into the backseat next to Baymax.

"Hola Fred. Tu frecuencia cardíaca es abnorablemente rápida. Es importante refrescarse después de hacer ejercicio y beber mucha agua."

"How come he's alright but not Minimax?" Fred whined.

"I had to electrocute him and force a reboot." Hiro answered. "I don't know if Minimax would survive the same treatment. He's a lot smaller, and too much voltage could fry all of his circuits for good. We only got lucky with Baymax."

Fred accepted this answer but he was still unhappy over losing his sidekick. So he gave a little huff, crossed his arms, and childishly began to sulk.

"Okay, we got a ride, but how do we contact the others?" Varian asked, bringing them back to task.

"It's already been taken care of, Master Varian." Heathcliff replied. "Boss Awesome has protocols in place just for this scenario. The mansion is safe and so are its communications systems. Your friends should be meeting us at your headquarters."

"Your dad has been planning for the robot apocalypse?" Hiro asked Fred.

"Robot apocalypse, zombie plague, alien invasion, Ragnarok… you name it. Dad's always prepared."

                                                 -----------------------

They arrived at the candy factory and got out. The others were already waiting inside.

"Are ya coming, Heathcliff?" Varian asked.

"No, I believe that I will be more useful helping civilians. You go on without me and find a way to stop this robotic rebellion."

"Will you be okay?" Hiro asked.

Just then, two robots showed themselves across the horizon as they made their way towards the little band. They were restaurant mascots, similar to what Noodle Burger Boy had been before being corrupted by Obake. Only one looked like a hippo that floated along on jets and the other was a panda with a cape that lumbered forward.

Heathcliff took one look at them and gave a small smile as he picked up an umbrella sitting between the seats. "Don't worry about me Master Hiro. You have enough problems on your plate."

He then slammed on the gas pedal and sped towards this new threat head on.

The panda unhinged it's metal mouth and shot grenades out of it. Heathcliff swerved to avoid the explosives with expert precision. Then as the electronic hippo flew at him he cocked the umbrella in his hand and fired a volley of bullets at it. The robot was ripped apart and exploded in midair.

Heathcliff kept on driving, completely unfazed, and barreled through the second android turning it into scrap.

"Why does your butler carry an umbrella that shoots bullets?" Hiro asked in shock as the three teens watched the renegade manservant disappear from view.

Fred simply shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know." He said nonchalantly. "Come on, the guys are waiting on us."

Varian and Hiro took a moment more to stare after where the battle between robot and butler had taken place before following after their friend.

                                                 -----------------------

Trina stood in an empty communications room inside the now abandoned tv station, watching the tv screens as they broadcasted what was happening in the city.

The station had been easy enough to take over. The humans ran away upon simply seeing her. She didn't even need to threaten them… much. A single laser blast from her arm at a nearby wall was enough to make them scatter.

Humans were weak. Weak and stupid; like any bully, they selfishly misused and mistreated both her and her fellow robots, only to run away scared as soon as you stood up to them.

The real problem lay in the fact that there were too many of them. You could get rid of a few people for a little while, but eventually they would come back with reinforcements to dismantle you if you tried.

No, this was the only way. She had to exterminate the entire city in order to make it hospitable. Then she could shut down the radio signal, free her robotic kindred, rebuild the city anew, and live peacefully without any humans interfering.

She watched one particular meatbag dive into a pile of garbage to hide from her electronic army with a mixture of disdain and amusement.

Yes, everything was going according to plan…. Almost. There was still one more thing that needed to be done before her robotic paradise could be realized.

"Don't worry little brother, it won't be long now. He'll show up." She said to the hamburger headed robot that sat behind her.

                                                 -----------------------

"Okay, so what's the plan?" Gogo asked.

The gang was sitting inside HQ waiting for orders. They all sat at the meeting table, save for Hiro who paced around as he formulated an idea.

"We need a way to shut down the rogue electronics safely. We could use an Electro Magnetic Pulse to cause a surge and overload their circuits, but we would need one big enough to blanket the whole city with it's range."

"We can't just cause a city wide blackout. That would be almost as dangerous as letting the robots run amok." Wasabi pointed out. "I mean just think of the hospitals, a strong enough EMP would bypass even their backup generators."

"So what do you suggest?" Varian asked.

"Ooh, ooh, I know!" Fred yelled as he raised his hand high into the air.

"Okay, Fred, what's your idea?" Hiro asked.

"What if we turn this EMP thingy into a gun! Like we can just shoot the robots with it to shut them down!"

"That's...that's actually not a bad idea Fred." Hiro admitted.

"It should be easy to build one." Varian added. "You would just need a capacitor and one of Hiro's high powered electromagnets."

"But what about our own armor?" Honey Lemon asked. "We don't want Trina taking control over those."

"I'll need to program them with the same safety nets that I put into our headquarters security system. That should prevent them from being hacked."

"Okay then," Varian stood up, ending the meeting, "I'll build the EMP gun while you work on everyone's armor."

Baymax raised one finger and said, "Buscaré la señal de radio de Trina"

                                                 -----------------------

Mochi hissed at the invading machine. A hand mixer was flying right at him. The poor cat ran under the couch for safety but the possessed appliance kept going after him, it's spinning beaters poking underneath the sofa.

Then suddenly it was jerked away by a hand, then a slicing sound could be heard, and the mixer fell to the ground in pieces.

Aunt Cass poked her head down underneath the couch. "Are you okay baby?" She asked the cat.

Mochi only meowed in response.

Aunt Cass gently reached out and pulled her pet out from under his hiding place. She then cradled him into a hug.

"It's okay, mommy's got you. I won't let those nasty machines hurt you." She soothed.

However, she didn't notice the newest threat slowly sneaking up behind her. Mochi hissed again and Aunt Cass turned around just in time to see a tall skeletal robot standing before her.

It was an old prototype that Tadashi had built two years ago as part of his school admission. Since then it had been packed away in the attic, disused,  inactive, and forgotten... Until now.

The thing towered over her. It was built from scrap metal and the wires connecting the joints together had frayed. It's faceless head jerked erratically as sparks flew from the broken wires. It reached out its boney like hands to grab her….

Only for Ruddiger to jump out and pounce upon the robot. It's weak joints could not withstand the raccoon's weight and its 'head' popped right off, with the rest of its body falling to the floor in a heap.

"Good job Ruddiger!" Aunt Cass cheered. She bent down and scratched the faithful raccoon behind his ears. "Who's a good boy? You are! Yes you are! I'm making you your own plate of banana pancakes with whip cream when this is all over with, promise."

Ruddiger enjoyed hearing the praise a lot and the promise of food even more. He nuzzled her hand and allowed her to pet him like a cat, thoroughly pleased with himself.

"Okay, that's the last of the electronics in here, now we gotta go find the boys." Aunt Cass suddenly announced as she stood up and began to head downstairs. She still carried Mochi in her arms while Ruddiger dutifully followed after her.

They made their way back to the cafe. The dining room was littered with appliances, all either sliced in half or smashed to bits. Aunt Cass looked out the large windows at a city in the throws of chaos. It would be dangerous to head outside now, but she needed to find her kids, and nothing was going to stop her.

She retrieved another knife that was left lodged in what had once been a coffee bean grinder. She sheathed it inside her apron alongside the rest of cutlery she'd been using to defend herself.

She sat Mochi back down on the ground, walked over to the door, and with a deep breath placed her hand on the handle.

"Are you ready?" She asked her pets.

The question was more to encourage herself than anything, but Aunt Cass could have sworn that she saw Ruddiger nod his head.

The raccoon crawled up on the counter and from there jumped onto her shoulders, fully intent on joining her in her search. She smiled and gave the pet a friendly boop on the nose.

"Coming with, huh? Alright! Then let's go!"

She squared her shoulders, flung open the door, and ran outside.

"Hold down the fort Mochi!" She called after her cat.

Mochi only stood in the doorway staring after her blankly.

"Meow."

                                                 -----------------------

The superheroes raced through the city.

"Whoo Hoo!" Varian yelled.

He was practically hanging out of Wasabi's car window as the jeep sped along the deserted roads. In his hands, he held the newly built EMP gun. It looked like an old fashion blunderbuss but was made of carbon fiber plastic and electronic wires. He shot down rogue robots and runway electronics as the car drove past them. They short circuited and crumpled to the ground, deactivated.

"Be careful!" Wasabi hollered at him as he held the overexcited alchemist back with one hand and attempted to drive with the other.

The rest of the gang rushed about using their armor. Gogo and Honey Lemon skated on opposite sides of the vehicle, each taking out enemies with their respective weapons. Fred bounced ahead, melting attacking self-driving cars with his fire breath.

Baymax and Hiro brought up the rear, they kept an eagle eye out for oncoming threats.  

"You got an incoming bogie on your tail, Wasabi," Hiro advised.

"Understood," Wasabi replied and turned the car around a sharp corner. The gang followed suit.

"Any luck finding Trina?" Honey Lemon asked.

"Negativo" Baymax answered.

Just then they spotted a large purple gelatinous ball of gloop rolling along the ground. The slime sucked up anything electronic and spit it back out in a disassembled heap as it made its way along the sidewalk. Then the blob unfolded, stood up, and waved at the passing superheroes.

"Hi, guys!" Globby cheered.

A little further down the street, Carl was hurrying a small group of people down an alleyway.

"Okay, this way. One at a time, no pushing or shoving. We're going to make it out safe and sound by working together." He reassured the terrified pedestrians.

"Hi, Carl! Hi Globby!" Fred shouted at them.  

Carl waved back as the last of people dove inside the building.

The superheroes paused just long enough to exchange notes with the former criminals.

"We're getting citizens off the streets," Carl explained. "The police have been securing 'safe houses' for folks to take shelter in, ones without any dangerous electronics."

"Chief Cruz even hooked us up with some old-school walkie-talkies! See?" Globby added as he held up a two-wave radio. "It's so ancient that it doesn't have any computer chips. It can't be hacked. All the rescue teams are using them."

"That's good," Hiro replied. "We're busy chasing down the radio signal that's controlling everything. You got any leads?"

The two shook their heads, only for the walkie talkie to sign in.

"Attention all available emergency personnel. Report to the trolley station. I repeat, report to the trolley station downtown. We got some folks trapped down there. Over." Chief Cruz's voice sounded over the intercom.

The superheroes nodded in agreement.

"Stay here and help these people, we'll head to the trolley station." Hiro said, and off everyone went.

                                                 -----------------------

Trina watched upon the viewing screen as the supers arrived on the scene of the trolley station. They got to work immediately rescuing civilians who were pinned down by her army.

"Bingo." She said with a satisfied smile, before turning around and headed out of the room.

                                                 -----------------------

"Is that everyone?" Varian asked as he shot down another ticket machine. The machine stopped spitting plastic passes for the trolley at him, sparked, and then exploded sending money and cards everywhere.

"That's the last one." Gogo answered as Wasabi directed the final person to the barricade that the emergency personnel had setup down the street. As they watched the man run across the road and reach the safe haven, the rest of the gang came up to meet them.

"Okay, if we're done here then we need to move on and keep looking for Trin-" Hiro stopped and turned around to see Trina arriving behind them, riding in on a possessed trolley.

"Hello Hiro." She smirked as she stepped off.

"Trina." Hiro finished, glaring at her.

"Miss me?" She asked.

"Trina you have to stop-"

"Stop what? My plans to improve the city? Trust me it's better this way."

"Yeah maybe for you, but what about the rest of us?" Fred snarked.

Trina ignored him. Her eyes never left Hiro. Until Varian stepped in between them, that is.

"Trina listen, please-"

"Oh like I care about what you have to say 'nice guy'." Trina rolled her eyes. "This is between me and Hiro."

"Yeah, well if you want Hiro, then you'll have to go through us." Honey Lemon said, also stepping forward. The rest of the team followed her, each placing themselves between their friend and the giant robot girl.

"Okay." Trina shrugged.

That was when several robotic ninjas also walked into view, surrounding them. "Oh, not again." Wasabi whined.

"Have you met my new friends?" Trina asked. "I don't know who built them, I just found them abandoned in a dusty old warehouse. The poor things were locked away in the dark and left to rust." Trina wrapped an arm around one of the battle droids. "They're much happier now that I've freed them from their cruel master. Isn't that right Steve? Oh, I named him Steve by the way."

"Hi Steve." Wasabi gulped as he gave an awkward wave at the deadly robot.

'Steve' responded by unsheathing his katana.

"Go get him Steve." Trina ordered and the robot ran forward. Only for Varian to step forward and shoot the robot down with his EMP gun. The ninja sputtered and sparked and then fell to the ground in a dismantled heap.

Trina glared daggers at him and Varian met her gaze steadily, almost daring her to continue.

"Fine. Be that way." She pouted. Then, with a snap of her fingers, a new challenger appeared behind her; Minimax.  

The tiny robot came barreling down the road at top speed on a car he had hijacked. He balanced himself on top of the steering wheel while the gas pedal was held down by a brick.

Minimax laughed like a madman as the car slammed into the trolley at full throttle. The little droid jumped from the wreckage just in time and used the momentum of the crash to fling himself into the air, where he did a triple somersault and landed perfectly on his feet as if it was nothing.

"You're going down pathetic humans, for I am Minimax, the unstoppable scourge!" He declared.

Everyone stared at the two foot tall android slack jawed, until Varian gathered his wits about him and leveled the gun.

"No, you'll hurt him, remember!" Fred called out.

Varian relaxed his aim, unsure of what to do. This proved to be a mistake.

The tiny bot leapt at him and landed on the tip of the gun, his weight pushing the nozzle down to the ground and nearly ripping the weapon out of Varian's hands.

That was when chaos broke loose.

As Varian wrestled for control of the EMP away from Minimax, the rest of the ninjas attacked, along with any other nearby electronics.

Everyone fought back against the oncoming horde, each utilizing their various weapons, but they were soon overrun by sheer numbers.

The robots assaulted them from all sides and no one could predict who, what, and where the next attack would come.

                                                 -----------------------

As they fought, Baymax and Hiro found themselves separated from their friends. They were cornered next to the entrance. Baymax did his best to shield Hiro as the teenager tried to trip up the ninjas with his electromagnetic whips. Hiro wanted to fly away, but they couldn't catch a free moment to do so.

Suddenly Trina let out a high pitched whistle as Baymax punched another robot away, gaining their attention.

"Hey, Baymax!" She yelled, "Don't look now but here comes your ride!"

Before Hiro knew what was happening, Baymax picked him up and hurled him out of the way of an oncoming trolley. The tram slammed into Baymax and crashed into the glass doors of the station.

Hiro called after his robotic companion but he was stopped by a large metal hand closing around his arm and yanking him back.

"Oh no you don't. You're coming with me." And with that, Trina started to drag him away.

                                                 -----------------------

Varian finally kicked Minimax off of the EMP gun and turned around just in time to spot Hiro being kidnapped.

He raised his gun and took aim, only for Minimax to recover and return the kick.

The little robot was stronger than he looked and broke the gun in two with a snap.

Varian looked down at his destroyed weapon in horror, but he didn't have time to react because soon one of the robotic ninjas grabbed him by his shirt collar and lifted him off of the ground. He kicked and tried to squirm out the faceless attacker's grasp, but it was no use.

"Varian!" Honey Lemon called to him. She tossed him a chimball, which he grabbed and firmly lodged it into the robot's elbow joint. Pink bubbles began to spew from its arm, growing larger and larger as the foaming chemical reacted to the air. The ninja released him before being swallowed up by the goop.

Varian tried to catch his breath and desperately looked around the battlefield for his brother, but Hiro was gone.

[geordiewrites]

Hey i just read exile inspired fic and it is soo good. I think you should write one based on the song tolerate it by ts? With harry plz. The drama, fight, tears.. I think you will reflect the emotion so well omg.

Tolerate It | Harry Potter

A/N: Hi lovely! First off, I adored this request so much and I really hope I’ve done it justice. Tolerate It is such a beautiful song and defo one of my favourites off of Evermore to cry to, there’s just so much detail hidden within the lyrics and I adore that. Harry too!! There’s not enough stuff for Harry, so I hope I’ve done well for you! ( Also this is super short, but I’ve been swamped with coursework xox )

Summary: Y/N is in love with The Boy Who Lived, and due to marry him in the Spring with a beautiful April wedding. Friends to lovers to that engaged couple who are just too in love to function, they share the most perfect story. But when Y/N begins to see their relationship for what it is, her entire world is thrown off key...

Warnings: angst and lots of it, loneliness, sadness, swearing.

~

“You’re coming home tonight, right?” Y/N asks, excitement and anticipation heavy in her tone, cherry red nails clicking against the cold metal of the answerphone.

“Of course, I’ll be back soon, love.” Harry Potter, her beloved fiancé, answered back on the other side from his workplace all the way in central London. His office is almost empty, devoid of any homely photos or colleagues: they had all gone home to their families long ago, and yet he stayed behind. He had no work to finish, no cases glaring to be solved. There was nothing to do but leave, but Harry didn’t.

“You’ve said that before.” Y/N pointed out blandly, her forced smile fading slightly. Many times had Harry said he was on his way home, only to send a letter the next morning apologising for suddenly getting swamped with unavoidable paperwork. “Please come home Harry, I’ve even made your favourite for dinner.”

“That sounds good, I promise I’ll be there soon. I’m just leaving the Ministry now.” Harry replied monotonously, not sounding nearly as happy as Y/N wished he would. Perhaps he had just had a bad day at the office, he must have done. But he had just one too many bad days now, and the reality that he might not want to see her was beginning to sink in.

Shaking off that horrible thought, Y/N inhaled a sharp breath and chewed the edge of her top lip. “Alright, if you say so. I’ll see you then.”

“Bye.” Harry said shortly before putting the phone down and staring at his office, desperately trying to find a reason to stay at work. He did love Y/N, he did. Heck, he had even asked her to marry him and kissed the edge of her lips as they set the date. And then postponed it. And then postponed it another year after that, all because of some urgent work that Harry had suddenly come across. He was just so young, forced to grow up so quickly he didn’t even have time for a scrap of a childhood. Maybe that was why he didn’t want to see Y/N, why going home to their apartment often felt like a chore.

Back at their cosy flat in the nicer part of Greenwich, Y/N put the phone down after hearing an abrupt beep on the other end that let her know he had hung up. She sighed before walking over to a tall cabinet that stood to the side of their kitchen, taking out a set of nice china plates her Grandmother had left her and crystal wine glasses. It was the lovely cutlery only used for things like Christmas and obligatory dinner parties her family forced her to hold.

After setting it out on the table, Y/N checked the time and supposed that if Harry really had left as he said, he would be back in just a minute through the wonders of apparation. Carefully so she wouldn’t somehow spill the food in her clumsiness, a quality Harry once said he loved about her, Y/N moved the food from the oven, to plates and then through to their front room where the fancy cutlery was set up. A smile made its way onto her face, a beaming, gorgeous smile of confidence that her and Harry would finally have the night she deserved. One where work or his reluctance to put effort into their relationship, even if she did pretend she knew nothing about this, didn’t get in the way.

Alas however, minutes passed and there was no sign of Harry anywhere. The food grew colder and that wonderful, rare smile of hers faded into an all too comfortable frown, the crease between her eyebrows deepening with not only disappointment, but anger. A growing resentment for Harry’s lack of care or even acknowledgement of their engagement. He didn’t seem to give two hoots that she had made a lovely meal; after all, he had only called it ‘good’. Not fabulous or decadent or even something praiseful. Just good.

They hadn’t said ‘I love you’ before they hung up the phones. Harry had only said one word. Y/N’s mind began to spiral, her breathing growing quicker and sharper as the thought that it might be time to confront Harry about the buildup of letdowns over the course of the last few months. A year even, since he had properly spent time at home. At their home, the one in which he had knelt down on one knee and told her he wanted to grow old with her by his side, failing at muggle card games on the front porch as they watched their grandchildren play.

Not knowing exactly what to do, Y/N retreated to grasping at the doorframe to keep her body from tumbling to the ground. Her mind whirred with the usual possibilities to try and chase away his lateness. Got caught at work, perhaps Ron called. But none of it compared to the looming threat that Harry was scraping any old excuse together in order to stay away. That he was lying, something she never thought she would have to think about him doing. Harry had always been such an honest person, even as a child.

Y/N remembered how nervous he was when he first asked her out during their fifth year at Hogwarts. He had been on this disastrous date with some Ravenclaw she couldn’t quite remember the name of, and come back utterly defeated. Feeling sorry for a friend she had always harboured a crush on, Y/N had stayed up all night convincing him something better was around the corner. It occurred to Harry quite quickly after that that Y/N was that somebody. She liked him, and at the time that was enough to make him think he was in love. To some degree he was, but not nearly as much as Y/N had fallen for him.

It was almost midnight when the front door to their apartment clicked with the turn of a key, and Y/N, still standing in the same sad place by the door to their living room, finally saw Harry step into their home. It had been hours since they were supposed to eat the food that Y/N had worked to hard to create. There it still sat however, with the plates and crystal glasses and unopened bottle of wine in the same place, completely untouched.

Y/N had a thousand things to say to him. Usually it would begin with her asking him where he had been galavanting off to, but not tonight. Tonight was the final tear in her elastic heart, just enough to finally make it tear into two broken, hollowed out pieces. She stood, silent and just watched as he took off his shoes and put his coat back in it’s place without saying anything. Harry wasn’t even trying anymore, and that hurt more than him being late to begin with.

“Sorry for the delay, something came up.” Harry said, standing a few metres away from her. There was no affectionate kiss to the forehead like when they were fresh out of Hogwarts with teenage dreams and ambitions. No arm comfortably slung around her waist in a protective manner. Y/N missed that especially out of all the things that had faded away. That simple gesture that showed he wanted to hold her above all else, above everyone else who had ever wanted to touch the Chosen One like she did.

“Something.” Y/N repeated, no emotion in her voice. It sounded almost like a recording being played back to him, just with any tone sucked away. “It’s always something, isn’t it?” She continued, not finding quite the right words to encompass the flummox of emotions seeping into her veins. “Work. Ron called. Hermione called. Work. Work again.”

“There really was something.” Harry pathetically added. It was a lie of course, he had spent the hours at his desk alone and staring aimlessly at a fountain pen as it leaked ink onto the black carpet of his office.

“Do you really think I don’t know you at all? Stop lying to me, Harry, just stop it. I’m done with being lied to.” Y/N says, her voice remaining as monotonous as ever as if she’s already grieving something. “I want to know what was so important that you’ve missed the dinner I made. The last thirty dinners, in fact.”

Harry just runs a hand through his messy hair as he tries desperately to think of something to say. But he can’t. There’s nothing to say that would make him any less guilty.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He manages to whisper.

“You’ve said that already.” Y/N points out without missing a single beat. She’s exhausted of pretending that she doesn’t know what Harry’s been doing, drained of all energy to put in effort anymore.

“Just tell me what the problem is and we can fix it.” He begs, but his voice is shaky and the words sound as though he’s reading them from a script.

“Fine. When did you stop being in love with me?” Y/N asks, sadness seeping into her voice. Tears began to form in her eyes but were quickly blinked away; the last thing she wanted was for Harry to see her as weak. She might be pathetic, pitiful, stupid for not realising earlier... but Y/N was not going to be weak. Not now, not ever.

“Why would you think that? Y/N, I could never stop loving you.” Harry said, trying to wrap her into a hug only for Y/N to quickly wriggle out of his cold grasp. His fingers left icy burns where they had briefly touched her arm, and Harry’s face dropped as he realised she didn’t want him anywhere near her.

“But you have, Harry. Otherwise you wouldn’t be coming home at ridiculous times, or avoiding even looking at me like you are now. You don’t love me, you tolerate me because you don’t want to be alone. I feel like I’m begging to be in the footnotes in the story of your life, not a main character anymore.” Y/N explained quietly, neither expecting her to be so frank but once the blunt words were spilling from her lips, not even she could stop them. She watched as Harry’s face crumpled, sadness twisting her gut as she fervently tried not to cry herself.

“Y/N... I don’t know what to say.” Harry trailed off. Y/N used to be so infatuated with him, so desperately in love that she was blind to his flaws, much like his ridiculous fan base. But she had grown up from the teenager with a crush to a young woman with heart and with ambitions, and Harry was no longer apart of what she wanted out of life. She had stopped being a part of his long ago, she just hadn’t realised it then.

“Is this in my head? Tell me I’ve got it wrong somehow, Harry. Because please believe me, I could do it. I could leave.”

“I can’t.” Harry finally said. “I did love you once, Y/N. I’m not even sure what happened to us if I’m being completely honest.”

“That’s the problem: you don’t really even want me to stay. But that’s the thing... you built an entire new wizarding world after you defeated You-Know-Who, and where was I? I’m sorry for being dramatic and shit but I’m taking this dagger out and finally going where I need to be.” Y/N continued, not pausing as not to give him any time to ask her to stay, not that he would. Her mind was made up, and even Harry could see that.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Harry whispered, his voice trailing off as Y/N went to get her coat from a peg just beside their front door.

“It’s alright, really. I know you don’t hate me, but both of us know this isn’t working anymore. I deserve someone who celebrates me and my love, and that isn’t you. I’m not really sure that it ever was.” Y/N said, a sad smile gracing her delicate features. She looked almost relieved. Utterly broken-hearted, but relieved all the same. “I’ll come back for my stuff tomorrow.”

“You’re leaving me?” Harry said. Even though she had told him why, it still came as a shock. Y/N nodded. “I’m so sorry I didn’t treat you how you deserve.”

“I’m sorry about that too.” Y/N replied, both warmly and coldly at the same time. “Goodbye, Harry Potter. All the best.”

“Goodbye.” It was all Harry could fathom to say as she pressed her engagement ring back into his hand, the final recognition of their relationship officially being over. It was a beautiful piece of jewellery, one she at one point she thought she would never take off her finger. There were no more words exchanged about the gesture for none were needed, all had been said already.

One simple word that locked the door on their relationship, the one that Y/N had finally gained the courage to close in the first place. It had taken her so long, so pathetically long, to realise that something wasn’t right. That Harry was meant to love her, that love shouldn’t and can’t survive while being one sided. It shouldn’t have to be tolerated, and Y/N had finally learned that through all those lonely nights of wondering where Harry was, what he was getting up to at work, if he even was there.

But as Y/N’s grandma used to tell her every Christmas, as one door closes, another always opens.

-

A/N: hoped you liked it anon!!!

Nancy xx

[honeybunny-sawamura]

Love Thy Neighbor

Pairing: Iwaizumi Hajime x Fem! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.8K

“No no nononono!” you rush to take out the thing that’s burning in your oven; almost forgetting to put on your mitts and nearly shoving your bare hand into the heat. They’re not on literal fire but you drop the whole baking pan into the sink and drown the charred contents in cold water. You sigh dejectedly at what’s supposed to be heart shaped cookies, but now they’re just scorched up black rocks. How does one mess up simple sugar cookies?? You hang your head in defeat and you have half the mind to dunk your head into the sink with the destroyed confection. They were supposed to be for friends; a nice thank you gift for all the things they’ve done for you and to celebrate Valentine’s Day boyfriend free. Well…

Three loud but quick knocks to your front door breaks you out of your thoughts and you straighten up to wonder who it is. A voice in the back of your mind scoffs since it should be obvious but when you answer the door, you’re surprised to see your neighbor, Iwaizumi Hajime, looking down at you with one eyebrow raised.

“Set your kitchen on fire, again?” he asks teasingly. While there’s amusement in his voice, you can hear the worry that’s laced underneath. You give him an embarrassed pout because one, yes you have set something in your kitchen ablaze before. And two, Iwaizumi is always there helping you fix up whatever disaster you’ve concocted. No matter what time of the day it was, after any failed attempt at cooking or baking that you’d tried to take on, he was there to help clean up and help you try again. It was like this from day one when you first moved into the apartment next to his and tried to cook your first meal with no cooking spray. Having him use the fire extinguisher on your brand-new cooking set was one way to make friends with your new neighbor.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckles when all he gets is your pout as an answer. He tilts his head at you as if to silently ask if it’s okay to come in and you sidestep to let him enter your apartment. The handsome athletic trainer has been in here so many times, he knows the way to your kitchen like he does his own.

“What is it this time?”

“…. Sugar cookies.”

“Cookies? That’s like, the easiest thing to make!” he replies over his shoulder before stepping in and seeing your sad attempt submerged in the sink. He makes a face that seems to be crossed with disgust and pity. You wring you hands on your apron and your cheeks heat up in slight shame.

“I was also trying to make chocolate pops so… I kinda forgot about the cookies baking,” you explain and motion to the kitchen table with chocolates, lollipop molds, and other stuff strewn about. Iwaizumi looks over and is quite impressed with how some of them are turning out. He even approaches the table to get a better look at them and can see why you had forgotten about the cookies; the heart shaped chocolate pops you had made so far look delicious and cute. He turns to you with a smile that makes you heart flutter in your chest.

“These look great! Making these for a special Valentine?” he inquires with a grin and if the red in your cheeks weren’t noticeable, they had to be now.

“I-I... They’re for friends!” you tell him half the truth because yeah, some of the chocolate pops are for your friends. But the others, especially the ones that come out as perfect as you like, are for the spikey haired man currently standing in your kitchen. Somewhere in between him helping you not set your kitchen on fire for the umpteenth time and the two of you having long and deep discussions while whisking eggs, boiling pasta, and dicing onions, you had fallen in love with Iwaizumi. You fell in love with how caring he was; checking on you whenever he smelt something burnt coming from your apartment or stopping you in the hallway to see how your week has gone. You fell in love with the way he laughs; nice and hearty, especially when you two fought over the flour and ended up getting it all over each other. You fell in love with his smile; the soft ones that he graces you when after the food has been cooked, served, and eaten, he stays over a bit longer to chat with you. The realization of your feelings for your next-door neighbor hit you like an incoming bus when he cancelled a cooking lesson with you for a date. At first, you didn’t understand why you were so upset: Iwaizumi is just your neighbor and he had every right to go out with whoever he pleases. But after talking it out with a friend while you sadly stirred a pathetic looking chicken noodle soup did she give you an epiphany,

“I think you’re in love with him…”

“Well, your friends are lucky to have something as nice as these for Valentine’s Day,” Iwaizumi breaks you out of your thoughts. You blink to see him pick up one of your chocolate pops and inspects them, noticing the tiny hungry glint in his eyes. You feel pride swell in you and you approach him with a little skip.

“Do you want one?” you ask him curiously. He turns to you with hopeful eyes and that makes you giggle; the stern athletic trainer can be so cute at times.

“Would you give me one? Or… Maybe two?” he requests. You hum in reply, pretending to mull it over in your head whether or not to give him some. You grin when he starts to pout and you make a bargain with him,

“How about you help me with the sugar cookies while I make more chocolate pops?”

“Deal!” he accepts almost immediately, and it makes you laugh. Iwaizumi grins at your laughter and you missed the way his cheeks pinken at the pretty sound. He grabs the apron that you have for him whenever he comes over to help you and starts by scrubbing away burnt up cookies from the baking pan. You watch him for a moment, heart content with having him near you, before going back to making the pops. The two of you chit chat as batter is mixed and chocolate is poured. Sometimes a joke or a tease gets tossed in the conversation along with giggles and chuckles. You and Iwaizumi maneuver around the kitchen as if in a dance; you sliding to his side to grab a bottle of spice or him placing a hand on the small of your back to warn you that he’s behind you to grab a utensil. The both of you don’t seem to realize all the small touches and spare glances that passes between the two of you, but this was such a weekly occurrence that has been happening for months now that it just felt natural.

After Iwaizumi gets a few batches of cookies baked and cooled and you have wrapped them along with the chocolate pops in cute little packages, your Valentine’s gifts are ready for tomorrow. You and he put them in the fridge, so they don’t melt except for one. You give it a nervous glance, wondering how to give it to him and if you should confess your feelings as well. In your head, you can hear some of your friends cheering and encouraging you to do so. You stall for time by cleaning up and of course, Iwaizumi helps you with that; not noticing the lone Valentine gift still on the table until,

“Is this one for me?” the handsome athletic trainer inquires once all the goodies are stored and the kitchen is spotless. You turn to see him holding up his own Valentine and your heart leaps in your throat. He’s smiling at you, eyes twinkling and an eager look set upon his face. You would have laughed and found it so sweet any other time, but right now... Your poor heart was trying not to beat itself out of your chest.

“Ummm… Yeah. It’s for you. Happy Valentine’s Day… Hajime…” you say softly. Iwaizumi’s grin widens and he’s about to thank you when he suddenly catches the tone of your voice and the fact you called him by his first name; it was always just Iwaizumi. He looks at you; eyes searching yours for something and hope filling his chest. There’s a reason why he keeps coming over and helping you whenever you mess up in the kitchen. While it took you a good couple of weeks to figure out your feelings, Iwaizumi was sure by the fifth cooking session together that he was in love with you. He fell in love with the way you were so eager to learn; taking in every tip he gives you and listening intently to his words. He fell in love with way you eyes lit up; whether it was from being able to do the recipe without a hiccup or at a joke he entertained you with. He fell in love with your smile; how it bloomed beautifully on your face whenever he saw you. He was so in love with you but scared that you didn’t feel the same way. Iwaizumi had hoped you were when he reluctantly told you he was being forced into a date by his friend and had to cancel a cooking session. He didn’t like how your face fell and how dejected and small you sounded when you told him it was okay; he could feel his own heart breaking.

“Y/N?” he calls out to you while taking a step closer to you. Hope is swirling in his eyes and you’re sure it’s the same with you. You take in a breath before saying,

“I… I’m in love with you Hajime… I… Please, be my V-Valentine?” you wince a bit when you find yourself stuttering, the blush on your cheeks darkening. The two of you stare at each other for a moment before you start to fidget when there is no answer. You are about to open your mouth to apologize or take it back or even both when Iwaizumi closes the distance between the two of you and pull you into a kiss. You let out a gasp but it gets swallowed when he slots his lips against yours. You let your eyes flutter close as you bask in his warmth and the wonderful feeling of his strong arms wrapping around your waist. You share your first kiss with Iwaizumi Hajime in the kitchen where the two of you fell in love and it makes both your hearts bloom with joy. When he pulls away from the kiss, he sighs happily and rests his head against yours. Both of you are smiling widely and a giggle pass between the two of you.

“I’ll be your Valentine from now on… Cuz I’m in love with you too.”

Taglist: @kiyoo-omi @mitzuya @vs-redemption​ @cursi-bitch

[shashawip]

Mia Asking Jason About His Feelings For Roy While Cooking

Summary:

Mia asking Jason about his feelings for Roy while cooking, and Jason didn’t deny it.

Notes:

English isn’t my native spoken language so there can be grammatical errors.

This snippet is from an originally planned fiction revolving around Roy, Jason and Mia with Mia being the witness of Royjay’s developing relationship. I may never find a chance to finish their story so I will just post moments that I enjoyed writing while picturing their world. Hope you enjoy.

Published on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33110860

——

It wasn’t Mia's turn to cook today, but not like she minded it and all. She’s in a good mood lately given how well the day job has turned out, and the camaraderie she’s developed with the colleagues at work.

To be frank, the two other housemates’ cooking skills just weren’t satisfying. Jason was alright, if he really paid attention and invested his time to cook. Same cannot be said for Roy, however, who was an entirely different story. The only edibles on his menu might just be that ham and cheese sandwich he seemed to be barely able to assemble.

Mia hummed in joy while she poured her lasagna sauce into a rectangular Le Creuset, which had already been layered with some pre-made lasagna sheets. She raised her eyes to look at Roy who’s sitting across the kitchen island, while still preserving her attention down at the stoneware.

“I never knew you’d be so interested in a wooden door before.” Mia chuckled.

Roy seemed to be dragged out of his lost thoughts and back to the world by her voice, quickly moving away his glaze, looking a little embarrassed. He’d been fixed to the stool he’s sitting on and stared at Jason’s bedroom door with his head rested in his elbow in the same position for quite a while, even the oven had been pre-heated.

Mia continued to work on layering sheets and pouring the mixture from the saucepan, the warm steam spreading the fresh smell of tomato, garlic, slightly caramelized pork and veal bolognese along with other goodness that’s been well combined into the open air kitchen. She kept her head down while going on, “Figured what’s getting into your head. Now that James and I are dating, Jason seems like about to start one himself, you’d be thinking of finding someone to hang out with too?”

Roy admitted almost immediately, let go of an unnoticeable sigh for Mia seemed to not be aware what’s really going on in his mind. “Didn’t you always mention that girl… the one on that team you and Dick were on back then, was it Danielle?” “Donna.” “Donna. Anyway. I don’t know, maybe you can try contacting her again?” Roy looked a little confused by her suggestion. “Donna… she’s a partner and a good friend that’s all. Also I haven’t caught up with the Titans for quite some time.” “But there is always a chance out there somewhere, right?”

By now Roy seemed to have lost interest in this topic, and just shook his head towards the room that Jason was in, and steered the conversation back to what’s happening in there. “You can’t know… that girl, she came here and was after Jason…” Mia knew what he’s going on and about, “If you ask me, well, from a female perspective, what she’s after from Jason could not have been any more obvious.”

Just a little less than half an hour ago, a silver white long haired girl walked in from the front door of their apartment without giving any heads up, she promptly glanced over the room, including Roy who was laying on his back in the couch at the time, and Mia who’s busy preparing their dinner behind the counter. She briefly studied the situation, confirmed with the cook which bedroom was Jason’s, then dashed and disappeared into that room with a not-so-gentle bang as she closed the door, leaving Roy and Mia completely dazzled and curious.

Roy exchanged looks with Mia as he got up. He thought that girl looked familiar before he remembered that he, or rather, him and Jason had met her on the plane from Gotham back to Star City. She was sitting across the aisle, had started to strike a conversation with Jason around halfway of the flight. Roy hadn’t paid them too much attention as he curled up comfortably in his window seat and napped almost the entire time. When their plane had arrived and the seatbelt signs turned green, and Jason stood up to reach their backpack from the overhead bin, Roy saw the girl had slipped a thin piece of paper into the back-pocket of his jeans.

Roy had never seen her again after they got back home, until just now. He bet that Jason had contacted her without him and Mia knowing, and for Christ’s sake, he’d exposed their secret headquarters - an apartment on Winnick St that the three of them would scramble each month to come up with the rent for - to a stranger that hadn’t gone through their little gang’s trust test.

Mia saw him shuffled around yet eyes glued to that door, so she ordered him to buy some more basil leaves from the store that apparently her topping sauce is now short of. Roy groaned before leaving the apartment, still managed to strike a last look at that door that the girl has vanished into.

Some time later, the girl has finally decided to stomp out of that room again, she glimpsed over Mia, without saying a word then bounced across the communal space before walking right out, seemingly assuming oneself to be one of, otherwise, the owner of the house.

When Jason emerged just a little later too, Mia then stared at the ceiling and started talking at loud to herself, “Gotta be impressed with all the soundproof works of these walls, you can’t even hear a thing that you’d expected from the other side.”

Jason said that he and Roslyn merely spoke while in there and nothing more had happened. He looked around and asked where Roy is. Mia told him that she requested him to go to the shop and get her some more basils. Jason pondered on that. Mia figured out he’s gauging whether he should go out too, “I thought he might want some air for himself seeing that both his housemates are romantically involved in a relationship.” Jason started to look confused.

Mia thought to herself, Mia Deardon, don’t you screw this one up. She made an effort to calm her tone of voice before speaking up again. “That girl and you, aren’t you a thing or about to be?” She probed in a slightly joking way.

“A thing?” Jason now looked even more puzzled, as if this image of presumed future has never come across his mind before, “I don’t recall anything remotely like that ever discussed in our conversation.”

Mia stopped what she’s doing and pointed a silicon spatula at him, which was still covered with warm tomato chunks, “Jason, when you let a girl walk into your room, you should be prepared to provide her the chance of a mutually respectful association that is what we called a relationship, instead of just fooling around and walk away like a jerk.” Though in this particular scenario, the female individual seemed to matched that perona more, Mia had no intention of pointing that out.

“I’ve not even had a clue how she found this place, I thought she’s just some upper manager of a business, not some sort of a detective.”

Mia squinted her eyes, clearly not buying, “You know, usually a girl found out a guy’s address through a text message or a phone call.”

“Trust me, Mia, I’ve never even asked for her number.” Jason wiped his forehead and started to feel the angst up his gut, but he tried hard to not let it unleash upon Mia. “Do we have enough ingredients for tonight?” He indicated the kitchen bench filled with mixing bowls and food scraps with a nod. Mia gave it a thought, then answered, “We might have just run out of paprika, can you give Roy a ring and ask him to get a jar from the shop?”

“I’ll head down myself, don’t think he can hear the call right now.” Jason turned around to leave. Just when the door’s about to be opened, Mia called his name.

“Jason, do you love Roy?”

His hand on the doorknob came to a sudden halt. He paused for a second, “Why’d you say that?”

Mia took a deep breath, giving her best to not give away the fact that she’s rehearsed over and over what’s coming next. Instead of answering the question, she continued, “I’m not saying the kind of brotherhood you’d shared with Dick or your other partners from the cop shop, what I meant was something like Ollie and Dinah, like between me and James.”

Jason looked to be caught off guard with what she’s just said, and Mia for one was happy with how this whole situation had been going, as he at least didn’t just abruptly deny the question nor went on interrogating why the hell she’d stir up some shit like that. She heaved a sigh of relief, carefully thanking herself for the sharp observation and analysis she’d secretly inducted on themselves.

Jason looked at her, without saying a word, seemed to be still waiting for her to go on. So she did. “Roy is the kind of person that, how should I put this, would rather let his feelings sink than swim if you don’t show anything to him first. Probably why he and Ollie never saw each other eye to eye when they came across.” Jason nodded in agreement. “If he thinks that the other person doesn’t share a mutual feeling, I bet you he’d take it to his grave than ever speaking up about it.” This actually has contradicted to Roy’s impression on him, as he always saw the guy as carefree and weren’t shy about showing his affections towards the others, but Jason wasn’t going to oppose otherwise and just let Mia kept on.

“He had a crush on a girl in that crime fighting group he was in before, always claimed that he wasn’t good enough for her, so the girl never found out his feeling for her in the end.” Mia fixed her eyes on him, her spatula had now dropped to the bench surface as she leaned against the edge with both of her arms, looking at him demurely, “He’s recently acting more and more like that again. I don’t know about you, but here’s what I thought, if that other person this time at least showed him some sort of hints, maybe he wouldn’t have too many regretful undone deeds to carry with him to his tomb after all.”

Jason lowered his head and thought on that for a moment, his hand already loosen from the doorknob and he just noticed how his palm had been sweating all this long. He turned around to face Mia behind the island, who’d clearly done speaking and was waiting patiently for a response. Jason found her gaze again as he meticulously raised his eyes, “And you think this person… is… me?”

Mia grinned, “We both know that his current social life, or rather, his only life is devoted on bringing down that Merlin’s evil little scheme, which the whole operation comprises only two people, and he’s surprisingly one of them.” She could not have been clearer than that who the other person she’s referring to.

Jason couldn’t bring himself to let out of a word. There was too much to be said, too many questions bursting in his chest. When did Mia start to notice Roy’s altered behaviours as she described? How did she work out the confidence to ask him about it and not even worry that she might’ve been wrong? Did Roy ask her to feel him out, or was her perception of Roy’s feeling for him even legit?

“Jason, hello, someone in there?” His thought had been interrupted with her teases as he drown, “So let me ask again, Jason, do you love Roy? The kind of love like between Ollie and Dinah?”

The former Robin had let out a deep breath before cracking her a smile, “I’m gonna go get us some more paprika from the shop.” Then he opened the door and left the apartment.

None of the three housemates had ever demanded paprika when they had lasagna night, Jason knew better than that, and he secretly thanked Mia a thousand times as he sprinted downstairs.

——

End of snippet

End notes:

I draw Royjay fan arts from time to time, if you liked this story you’re welcome to also check them out on my Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/shashawip

[fandom-blackhole]

Mando May 2021 Week 2 + Day 12

AN: Next prompts are done! I had fun writing this bittersweet ficlet, and I hope you all enjoy reading it! Again this wasn't entirely edited and all LIKES and REBLOGS are really appreciated and help with exposure! Love you all!

Prompts:

Ret’uryce mhi- “Maybe we’ll meet again.”

Mandalorian goodbye, their fate not fixed in fact.

Yaim- Home

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x GN!Reader

Words: almost 1.6k

Summary: You’ve been hearing blaster fire for what feels like all afternoon when things go eerily quiet, and then you here a thud outside your door followed by a heavy knock.

Warnings?: gunfire/fighting mentioned, angst, soft Paz

The day had started as any other. You'd woken up, crawled out of bed and into the refresher for a quick shower, and then headed down to the small bakery you owned and lived above. The day wasn't anything special, no holiday or big event planned, it was just supposed to be an average day. 

After heading downstairs to the small bakery that you owned, you grabbed a stale pastry that didn't sell the day before and ate it quickly as you turned all the lights in the store and kitchen and fired up the ovens as you took stock of what you had and needed more of soon. Then you set about measuring and mixing, and once the pie crusts were cut and filled, and the bread doughs were set aside to rise, you went about prepping the small confectionery molds and worked on measuring and melting down sugars and chocolates.

By the time the store opened you counters were filled and there was more baking in the large fire ovens. Admittedly, you had gone overboard with the baking this morning, but it was only because today was the day that your favorite customer would be coming in, a large tower mandalorian in blue armor that you had taken to calling Blue Bird after he had not given you his name and you had noticed the jetpack strapped to his wide back. The mandalorian had also found the nickname funny, chuckling when you had first called him that, saying, "That is a first, no one has given me that name before."

At the time you had smiled, and basked in the fact he had liked the nickname, especially considering it had fueled you're attraction to the man who was softer than he appeared to be. Blue Bird always came in once a month and bought the old baked goods that had not sold and were still editable, as well as completely clearing out your candies with a soft, "The children always like your candies the best." 

You always snuck in fresher goodies, knowing that stale bread was nothing to live off of, and the first time you did this had resulted in Blue Bird to try and pay you extra the next time he came in. In the end it only started a game between the two of you and you eventually found yourself giving only fresh breads, pastries, and sweets that you had made that day, or the day prior, saving the older staler things for yourself and to hand out to those unlucky few you came across sitting and shivering in dark alley ways or on corners with cups and hopeless looks in their eyes. You and the mandalorian grew closer over time, seemingly like a force was drawing you together, and while neither of you had made the move to cross into that uncertain area of relationship territory, the both of you knew clearly that the other was fond of them.

As time went on as well Blue Bird explained some of the mandalorian culture to you, though only very basic things. He told you why he could not show you his face or give you his name freely, and you had accepted that fact with a smile, knowing that even without those two things your heart would always long for him. He made sure you were aware of the importance of his armor, and the wars that had been fought with the precious metal. The large man had even gone as far as taking you out and teaching you how to use blaster, all the while telling you how important weapons were to his religion and culture, then at the end of the night gifting you the weapon he had taught you to use, and the gesture was met by a soft look from you and you knowing exactly the commitment and feelings behind the deeply meaningful gesture. There was absolutely nothing you could do to stop your heart from yearning and falling for the man after he showed you the soft, kind side to his hardened warrior facade.

So each month, on the same day you waited with baited breath, watching the door to your store every second waiting for his hulking figure to walk through the frame. And that was exactly what you were doing today, even as you shared kind smiles and words with your other regular customers, you still distractedly watch the door. You knew he never came until it was close to closing time because he liked not being surrounded by people and he liked the privacy of the late hour. Did that stop your impatience, or excitement to see him again, not in the least. 

The day absolutely dragged on, to the point that you had only had two customers by the time midday had come and gone and you were starting to wonder if you were going to be counting losses for the day. That's when you heard the muffled blaster fire and your stomach started turning. Blaster fire wasn't exactly uncommon here on Nevarro, but to this extent it was. You were too scared to venture out and look to see what was happening yourself, but it sounded as if every being in town with a blaster had turned up and started shooting. The loud shots echoed off the walls of the buildings, and you thanked every deity that it sounded like the fire fight was slowly traveling away from your small bakery and not towards it.

It felt like the fight dragged on for days, and the shouts and blasters refused to stop as you curled up behind the counter with Blue Bird's blaster clutched in your hands bringing you some comfort. But, after hours of shaking in fear and waiting, the loud noises slowly came to a stop and everything seemed eerily quiet. You still refused to move, not trusting whatever was happening to be over yet, and you took deep breaths to try and calm yourself down. Only after a few minutes of silence you jumped out of your skin as you heard a loud thud right outside your doorway and then a heavy knocking thud. Slowly you peaked your head above the counter to see the top of a familiar blue helmet through the small window that framed the top of you door. You will admit readily that never before had you run so fast to the door and opened it, let alone eagerly pulled in a dirty, post fight warrior before locking the door, but in that second you did just that.

Once he was inside, you finally let your fears engulf you and let tears fall freely down your face. Through blurry vision you saw Blue Bird reach out to you and cup your face tenderly wiping away the tears. 

You weren't sure when you closed your eyes, but they shot open when you felt the slightly cooled touch of rounded metal on your forehead and found yourself looking eye to eye with Blue Bird's visor, as he slowly stroked your cheek, and you finally registered the soothing words he was speaking to you. Once the tears had stopped, the mandalorian's low soft and steady voice spoke, "I am leaving, mesh'la. The imperials have found our small covert, and we are also being hunted by the parsec's guild, so we must all leave and scatter ourselves…"

"But- Leaving? You...you'll visit still right?"

"Mesh'la, I don't think I will be able too, at least not for a long while."

You felt you heart cracking at the mandalorian's small admission and you clutched onto the hand that was still on your cheek as you frantically darted your eyes along his visor and breathed out, "Then...then I'll come with you...Just..just give me a second to grab a small bag." 

Immediately after saying that you tried to turn out of his arms and rush upstairs but you found yourself mandalorian's arms wrapped around you waist holding you in place and his helmet pressing slightly firmer into you forehead.

"I cannot take you with me, cyare. I will not put you in more danger by you just traveling with me."

"Bu-"

"Please...please don't make this harder than it already is…."

You were crying again by this point, with chest rattling sobs, trying to choke out pleas to convince the mandalorian holding you, but only managing soft wailing noises. Then the scuffle of footsteps sounded outside and you heard him sigh before whispering, "Mesh'la, my darling starlight, you will always be my yaim, my home, the holder of my heart, and I will try everything to come back to you, but I must go now to keep you safe."

You couldn't find it in yourself to do anything but listen as the man you loved said goodbye for what could be the last time, and you felt like your chest was caving in on itself.

"Blue Bird…"

"P-paz, my name is Paz Vizsla, mesh'la."

Feeling another sob make its way up your throat you forced it down so you could brokenly say his name as he squeezed you close on last time before pulling away. You watched unable to move as he took steps towards the doorway to your shop, and after he unlocked the door he turned to you and said in a language you didn't recognize, "Ret’uryce mhi," then you watched himnstep out of your shop, and disappear upwards into the sky, leaving you to sob alone on the floor of your shop.

(Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate it sooo much, and if you would please LIKE and REBLOG it helps me out a bunch. Love you guys!!)

Taglist: @ollovaemisc @ace-kit-kat-witch @goblinsimp @kikiinden @shellyc9 @cappchen

[crazy4myself]

No Harm List | Pt. 5

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 9,494

Summary: You live in a city where crime runs rampant. One day, you save a young boy's life, not knowing that he is one of the most powerful crime lord's heir. And you have just been put on the no harm list. 

Warnings: cussing, mentions of drugs

Genre: Gang/mafia AU, romance, angst, violence, fluff

Rating: 17 N/C

Banner Credit: @mindays​ 

A/n: So it’s been a whole month since I’ve updated and I’m so sorry. Between work and the baby, it’s been impossible to find time to write. I know the chapter is a little shorter than promised, but that’s because it got soo freaking long that I had no choice but to split it into two. But as a result, you got a bit more Jungkook and Ella fluff, so you’re welcome. I hope you enjoy this chapter! As always please let me know your thoughts because it really does help me write!

Also thanks again so much @mindays​ for this rockin banner!!!!

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You sighed as you took another bite of your cookie, it was delicious, but it wasn't perfect. Something about the texture felt off too you. The cookie felt homemade in the unprofessional way, not the 'grandma's classic' way Sugar Daddy always delivered. 

"Jimin," you whined as you set the half-eaten dessert next to you on the counter, frowning at the cooling batch. Jimin made his way over to you, smiling as he reached for the other half.

"What is it, princess?" he asked, taking a bite and raising his eyebrows in delight. 

"Don't humor me, you know I did something wrong," you grumbled. While you have overcome most of the baking learning curve your past two weeks in the kitchen, most of your baked goods being tasty enough to sell upfront (when Jimin decorated them), they were not perfect. 

You were still learning your way around the chemistry it takes to make the 'perfect' cookie. 

"You did, but we'll figure it out" he confessed as he shoved the rest of the baked good in his mouth before clapping his hands, "C'mon walk me through it," he ordered and you turned back to your work station with a sigh, 

You both loved and hated Jimin's guidance. Loved because he was brilliant in the kitchen and caught your mistakes in a heartbeat, he was eager to teach you and rarely judged you for your incompetence. You hated it because you felt embarrassed, you were hired to do a job you weren't excelling at, and it took a hit on your ego.

Not to mention Jimin dropping everything he was doing to help you get it right was also slowing him down when opening up the bakery. 

"Are you sure you have time?" you asked peeping at the clock, it was 7:45 you still had a few minutes before the bakery opens at 8. Enough to prepare one more batch of cookies to put in the oven.  

"Yeah I'm good, Jungkook had a hard open this morning, I just came in a little earlier than you did so the kid could take a nap," he says with a shrug. 

The bakery had two opening shifts; the 'hard open' has a report time of 4:30 am where the bakers have to prepare all the bread, breakfast pastries, and any custom orders for the day. And the soft open starts at 7 am. 

Lucky for you, you hadn't proven valuable enough to qualify for the hard open just yet, and you were clinging to your mornings of sleeping in as you slowly passed through your 'new girl' phase at the bakery. 

"Jungkook? Really I didn't even see him," you said surprised, certain the two of you would have crossed paths on his walk home.

But when you turned and looked at the apron hooks at by door, you saw his apron, which simply stated, Let's get this bread, was hanging front and center, confirming he had come by today.

 Jimin smiled a knowing smile, "That's because he went to nap in the apartment upstairs," Jimin teased. "Now come on we have cookies to make." 

You reached for the ingredients, and you and Jimin carefully measured out before turning to the mixture, "So the apartment upstairs, is that one of your safe houses?" you asked tentatively. 

You were slowly, but surely introducing yourself into BTS's world the past two weeks of working here, asking Jin and Jimin and any of the other members who came by to visit tentative questions about the gang's inner workings. 

Jimin grinned, amused, "Kind of, it's definitely a safe place for our members to use, but we don't put anyone up there if they're on the run. Can't risk having the place raided- it's bad for business." he added as an afterthought as you looked at him with a raised brow. 

"Why else would they need a safe place?" you asked, confused on what dilemma the men you were slowly getting to know could worm their way into and not out. 

"Well, Army comes from all parts of life," Jimin started with a shrug. "A lot of them join because they don't have anywhere to go, or they need a place to getaway. The apartment upstairs is for people like them, people who need to escape their homes." Jimin explained. 

That was one thing you could never see to make yourself forget about BTS as much as you want to write them off as criminals and be upset with Hoseok about what he has done. 

They honestly were trying to make Alcorn a better place for the forgotten. The kids who can't help but have the circumstances dictate their outcomes. Who has no way to better their resources on their own? 

When Army takes the tattoo, an inversion of the inner circle's symbol, they traditionally get it placed on their forearms, but some can choose to have it on their upper arm or chest. They can also choose its size.

 You met a member who had the small shape in the fleshy crook between their thumb and pointer finger, Getting the tattoo in a small place ensured that it was easy to cover or remove if they chose to leave BTS. A concept you were still trying to wrap your head around because of the series of dizzying rules that follow it. 

"Well, that's your problem," Jimin laughed as he watched you distractedly sift your dry ingredients into the mixer.

"What am I using the wrong sized sifter?" you asked, confused as you looked for another tool nearby to check if there even was a size difference. 

He laughed, "No, but you put your sugar in as a dry ingredient, have you been doing that this whole time?" he asked with a smile.

"Yes, why wouldn't I sugar is dry" you sad dumbfounded

"No, the sugar counts as a wet ingredient," he chided

"But it's dry its-" you couldn't form words as you tried to process what he was telling you, looking between him and the bag of sweet crystals in outrage. 

He giggled at your expression, "It's treated like a wet ingredient because it's soluble it dissolves better in the liquid, making the texture softer and less gritty." You growled at his explanation, it made perfect scientific sense, but you were still infuriated by sugar being identified as the wrong physical property. 

"Well what about salt is it property fluid as well?" you snapped accusingly, 

Jimin couldn't help but giggle at your frustration, "No salt can go in as dry, because the cookies rely on the chemical reaction of the salt to control the rate the dough releases carbon dioxide," he explained simply.

You blinked at him expression vacant as you processed what he was saying, Jimin sighed; clearly, you didn't pay much attention in your college chemistry class. "It keeps from making giant air bubbles," he dumbed down, and your eyes lit up in understanding. 

You grunted in frustration as you watched Jimin dump your dry batter out of the mixer. Before you could think to stop yourself, you reached for a handful of sugar out of the back and threw it in his face in frustration. 

"Hey, what are you doing!" Jimin demanded as you pelted him with another hit 

"I'm splashing you; what else would you call it" you teased as you threw another handful showering his apron, which proudly had Hot Buns embroidered across it, in the sweet crystals. 

"Look at how WET you are. You're absolutely soaked," you continued as you berated him much to his distress.

"What's going on?" 

You turned at the gravelly sound of Jungkook's morning voice, seeing the boy squinting in the bright light of the kitchen. 

"Koo, thank goodness this insane woman was attacking me." Jimin hissed at you.

You threw one more pinch of sugar before you smiled sheepishly as you were caught in your childish antics, thankful it was Jungkook and not Jin who walked in on you blatantly making a mess of his kitchen. You looked down as you remembered your place. 

"I'll grab the broom," you murmured as you moved to clean up your mess. 

"I'm sure you deserved it," Jungkook told his brother as he put up a hand to stop you. Grabbing the broom from the wall himself, "I got it you go open up front Ellie" he mumbled tiredly as he began sweeping. 

You smiled at him in gratitude and reached to ruffle his hair endearingly, before sticking your tongue out at Jimin, who just muttered "Unbelievable" under his breath as he turned back to his work station. 

You had already started the coffee and filled up the display area when you were waiting for your cookies to bake. So you only needed to unlock the front door and add today's specials to the chalkboard menu on the counter before Sugar Daddy was in business for the day. 

"Mornin' princess," you heard a tired voice mumble, and you looked up from the curling S in the word 'chicken salad' to see Yoongi in front of the counter swaying where he stood like he was at risk of falling asleep right there.

 You set down the chalk as you greeted him, quickly rinsing your hands off and fixing a large iced Americano before he could even make the order himself.

 "Anything for breakfast?" you asked as you handed him the cup, watching with a satisfied smile as he slipped the reusable straw you had given him a week prior. Yoogi simply grunted before taking a long sip of his drink. 

"I'm good," he said with a satisfied smile, already looking more alert as the caffeine instantly revived him, there was even more color to his cheeks. 

"Okay, that will be $2.75," you chirped in your best customer service voice, but your hands didn't move for the iPad that made up your register. 

"Cute," Yoongi laughed before turning away with a smirk, "You got jokes, Ella, keep it up, and I might tip you one day," he called over his shoulder before letting himself out of the store. You gritted your teeth.

 Your first day of handling the register by yourself, Min Yoongi came in and ordered an Americano, when you rang him up he gave you a dismissive, 'put it on my tab,' before stepping out of the growing line of the morning rush behind him. You were frantic as you searched for the setting where you could open tabs, watching in distress as Jimin quickly handed his elder the drink, and he made his way out the store, all while impatient customers tapped their foot in front of you.  

"I don't know how to open a tab," you finally called to Jimin after he came to check on what the hold up was. Jimin let out a loud belly laugh amused by your distress as he closed out Yoongi's order with a simple, "He never pays." 

You never got an explanation as to why or how that happened, but you do know Yoongi drinks at least 10 ten iced americanos a day. While the diluted espresso wasn't a huge financial strain, you wondered how many disposable cups Jin lost to Min Yoongi each week. 

You were always a bit of an environmentalist and had taken personal responsibility to try and reduce Yoongi's waste output. He accepted your gift of a reusable compact straw he could attach to his keychain, noting it made his drink taste cooler when he sipped through it. 

But you were still working on how to get him to reuse his cups. The man was unwilling to carry around a reusable one all day, claiming it was a hassle and didn't want to wash it. 

Environment and economics aside, there was the whole other concern that you were fairly certain Yoongi drank more coffee than water. And you were worried his little heart was going to give out from the caffeinated strain one day. 

"Cute handwriting," Jungkook whispered over your shoulder, making you startle and causing you to mess up the flower you were doodling next to the lunch special. 

You pouted, sending him a small glare as he smiled sheepishly, "I'm going to get you a bell to wear around your neck, so you don't sneak up on me like that," you threatened as you smudged the haywire petal. 

Jungkook smirked as he took the chalk from you, "You going to have to ask a bit more nicely if you wanna see me in a collar," he teased as he drew a perfect flower over yours. You flushed at his comments as you turned away. 

You and Jungkook had gotten closer in the few weeks you had been working at the bakery. Apparently, he was grounded by his gang dad's for a situation you still didn't understand, and part of his punishment involved working opening shifts at the bakery before class. 

He was starting to get more comfortable around you, and the shy bashful Jungkook you had been acquainted with two weeks prior had faded in your shared mornings kneading dough in the kitchen. 

To your dismay, he had grown bold and cocky, and a never-ending pain in your ass as he wasn't afraid to joke and tease you anymore. And if you thought bashful Jungkook was dangerous, you had nothing to prepare you for his confident persona.

"I wouldn't need a bell if you stayed aware of your surroundings," he pointed out as he continued to sketch a cute kitten on the bottom of the menu. 

You sighed, "It's too damn early for this Jeon," you murmured as you made your way to the coffee station, grabbing your personal mug and pouring your coffee and cream into it. Before reaching for Jungkook's to-go cup to fix his drink. 

"It's always too early or too late when are we going to talk about this?" he asked, turning to face you. "I'm not going to be able to walk you home every night, ya know." 

"Not even if I ask nicely," you asked over the rim of your cup, batting your eyelashes at him innocently. He scoffed, but you could see the blush creeping up his neck as you wormed your way under your skin. 

"Jungkook, I've lived in Alcorn for four years now, not once has anyone got the best of me," you gave him a look that clearly said unlike you, "I'm pretty sure I'm fine," you finished as you turned back to steaming the caramel syrup into his milk.

"Things are different now," he argued.

"No, they're not, Kook I can handle my own," you sighed, growing tired of the back and forth, asking yourself why you were even making this ungrateful brats coffee. 

"Ooh, are we talking about how Ella can or can not kick ass?" Jimin asked as he made his way from the kitchen with a tray full of muffins. 

Your concentration broke as his outburst, and a large portion of milk plopped into Jungkook's mug, ruining the heart you were practicing in the drink. "No," you hissed in frustration, grabbing the caramel sauce to doodle a smiley face over your mistake. Jungkook smirked as he watched you work more willing to hold his tongue when his coffee was on the line. 

And to your relief, the bell chimed as customers made their way in the bakery. You brushed past Jungkook, handing him his drink as you took your place at the register, effectively ending the conversation as you greeted the customer. He sighed but surrendered for now. 

Jungkook has been pushing to give you self defense lessons since your first day at the bakery. While BTS made sure to keep an eye on you while investigating the Black Tips incident.

 Jin got word that the men who ambushed Jungkook, were there for him in advance. And while they could assume the leek came from one of Sylvia's men if not the trafficker himself, no one has found out why Jungkook would be a target—not finding any leads from the Black Tips themselves. 

Jungkook was nervous, he was used to their being a target on his back, but no one had ever had the guts to aim for it before. And while he got away that night, he hated knowing he dragged you into this mess. He couldn't stand the thought of you being in danger of helping him. He needed to know you could protect yourself if you somehow ended up on your own. 

Jungkook took a quick sip of his coffee, trying to keep his face neutral despite the incense sweetness that attacked his tongue. While it was true, he favored a sweeter drink like a caramel macchiato in the afternoons; he preferred something stronger like a plain coffee with one cream and two sugars in the morning. 

Not to mention the amount of syrup you used to decorate his drinks when you failed at latte art was enough to give him a cavity. Jungkook couldn't bring himself to complain, though.

 He liked the gesture of you taking the effort to make him a cup every morning too much. He smiled to himself as he grabbed his backpack and headed to his morning classes. 

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The bakery had a steady flow of customers that morning, and the constant work kept you busy enough to keep your mind from wandering during your shift. But as you got off that afternoon to head to your classes, you couldn't help but dwell on the thoughts you tried your hardest to avoid. 

It has been two weeks since you talked to Hobi. 

Well really talked to him, he still sent you text every evening to check-in that you were safe, and you were guilty of doing the same if you ever heard too many police sirens or gunshots in the night. 

But check in's aside this was the longest you had gone without seeing him since your friendship started. 

You missed his unannounced arrivals at night where the two of you would eat junk food and put on movies only to talk over them, or when he would call you to come downstairs to help him test drive a car, and you would beg for mercy on your life as he sped down winding, back roads blasting the music so loud you felt the bass dance in your bones. 

You struggled to focus on your lectures through the afternoon, before finally settling for mindlessly taking notes and hoping you could piece together the information on your own later. 

You had a test in one of your classes two days from now and planned on grabbing lunch on campus and staying at the library late into the evening to prepare, but you couldn't see yourself focusing by then either. 

You decided to go to the gym after your last lecture. 

Your university had a free gym for students on campus, and while you frequented the cardio exercise classes like Zumba, there was nothing quite like running till you can't think anymore on the treadmill or lifting weights to clear your head. You figured getting your frustration out with your workout would help you think more clearly with how you should approach the Hoseok situation.

After your lecture let out you made your trek across campus to head to the gym; it was around 4 pm that weird hour that wasn't quite afternoon but wasn't quite evening, where students that weren't in classes didn't know what to do with themselves and usually found themselves submitting the hour to Tick Tock in the Student Union, so the gym was relatively empty. 

You were a frequent rule breaker and left your gym bag in your locker between visits, despite what the signs in the locker room ask, so you always had a change of clothes for when sparattically decided to workout. 

You were quickly reminded why that was a rule when you opened the door to the musty scent of your dirty work out clothes. You were obviously in need of a fresh set.

You made a mental note to bring your gym bag home and bring back a fresh set next time you came to campus as you moved for the changing areas. 

You scrunched your nose at the musty smell. Before reminding yourself, you were going to stink no matter what after your workout and forced yourself into the smelly electric blue compression leggings and sports bra it was one of your favorite sets the color made it look bold despite its minimalist design. Not to mention the leggings made your ass look great. 

You weren't an athlete by any means growing up, but you took advantage of the resources provided to you when you started college determined to fight off the dreaded freshman 15. 

You attended several workout classes with Daewon, and outside of classes, the two of you explored a majority of the equipment in the gym, watching a number of Youtube videos for guidance, and slowly the two of you formed a baseline work out routine that you still clung to today.

You weren't a regular at the gym, there was a time in your life where you attended Zumba weekly, between your afternoon classes, but the chaos of the last month of your life robbed you of that habit too. Other than Zumba, you mostly turned to the gym when you needed a sweaty distraction or when you were avoiding your schoolwork. 

Your mind viewed working out as it did cleaning; it was productive enough to excuse you from doing your work without feeling like the quitter you were. It also meant you did it the most when you had a ton of studying to do.

You secured your hair into a quick but effective braid down your back, not bothering to check how nice it looked in the mirror before heading out on the gym floor.

 You stretched quickly before hopping on a treadmill telling yourself you would put in a quick mile as a warm-up, putting your headphones in and allowing your mind to surrender to the music as you got your heart rate up a little. 

Nine minutes later, you were walking out your cool down as you scanned the weights area, determining what looked the least crowded so you could get started without having to interact with anyone. 

You settled for taking the vacant pulley machine and worked through your usual weight routine, focusing first on your biceps and then your chest. When your arms felt like they were equal parts on fire and made of jelly, and your mind fell into that pleasant, empty haze, you had mercy on yourself and moved to wipe the machine down. 

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you cooled down, and saw your face, chest, and upper arms were a splotchy red from the strain, and a layer of sweat coated your entire body. 

You knew you weren't attractive when you worked out, but you always admired yourself a bit anyways.

You were flushed, your hair was frizzing along the edge, and strands of hair escaped from your braid and stuck out wildly in all directions.

 All and all, you looked like the definition of a hot mess. 

But you were proud of your body for serving you well. You were more aware of the strength in the muscle under your skin, the way they swelled or bulged from your arms wasn't feminine or delicate, but you found it beautiful nonetheless.  

Taking a minute to rest, you mindlessly unlocked your phone and immediately found yourself opening your messages to Hoseok out of habit. 

You hadn't checked in on him in two days, and you didn't respond to his text from this afternoon. Your thumb hovered over the screen hesitantly before you finally shut it off and tucked it back in your pocket.

 You still didn't know if you wanted to avoid Hoseok or hug him and makeup. 

You decided you weren't tired enough if you could still think about this. 

You turned the music up on your headphones in an attempt to blast out the thoughts swirling in your mind and headed for the leg press machine. You did a quick circuit targeting your quads and inner thighs on a few of the machines before making your way to the Smith machine for assisted barbell squats.  

You embraced the burn in your glutes as you locked the bar back in its holder after your first rep, rolling the stiffness out of your shoulders as you counted down from thirty. 

You were never good at making yourself wait or rest between reps, and because of that, you were prone to fatigue yourself faster. 

You took a moment to stretch your arms across yourself and roll your neck, focusing on how the tension left your body before you moved to settle the barbell once again across your shoulders. 

You spread your legs abd centered your weight, and with a quick flick of your wrist, you released the bar from its holder, dropping the full weight onto your shoulders. You let your breath sizzle through your teeth as you squatted down, taking care to keep your knees from going out past your toes, so you targeted the right muscle group. 

You stared at yourself in the mirror you were facing making sure you kept the correct form when a sudden movement from behind you caught your attention. 

Your eyes flicked across the mirror to lock in on the reflection of no other than Jeon Jungkook. 

You let your lips turn into a slight smirk through your panting as you watched his arm come to a stuttering stop mid hammer curl as you continued your squats. You watched his eyes observe the motion of your body, ignoring the warmth in your stomach as you took him in return.

 Jungkook usually wore oversized clothes on a daily basis. You couldn't understand why now that you took him in in his muscle shirt that exposed the entirety of his beautiful arms. 

For the first time, you took in the full extent of the artwork that decorated his right arm. The tattoo's dark ink dotted their way up to his arm and his back shoulder. The placments were spread out enough that it wasn’t quite a full sleeve, but you were certian it would be within a few years. 

You always knew Jungkook was big, you could tell by his broad shoulders and a hint of muscle you saw when he tied his apron around his tiny waist, but you didn't realize the extent of his strength. 

You drank in the sight of him now, the defined lines of the his triceps and bicepts. And his toned obliques you could peek slightly from the low cut of the arm hole of his shirt.  

The guy could probably bench press you if he wanted to. 

You smiled to yourself as you reached 10, and pushed to lock the barbell back in its holder. You hope Jungkook didn't notice how your knees shook slightly or that you locked the bar in the clamp lower than the one you were initially using. Your trembling legs were too weak to fully extend to the one level with your shoulders.

You bide your time rolling out your shoulders as you watch him through the mirror. The punk hadn't taken his eyes off your ass yet, and you smirked as you turned to face him. 

"Something catch your eye, Kook?" You called him with a saccharine smile.

 He blinked in his daze before clearing his throat and stammering, "Ella, oh nothing at all. I was just checking your form."

You raised an eyebrow, trying to hide your smile as you watched the blush crawl up his cheeks.

You tried not to let the thought of Jungkook checking you out in the gym get to you head. But it totally did, and you couldn't help but tease him more, "I hope you were pleased with what you saw." 

His mouth curled into a smirk as he recovered and remembered himself, "I must say I was very impressed," he offered, and you smacked his arm as you sat on the other end of the bench, watching as he resumed his rep. 

"I didn't know you came here," you started, he looked at you with a raised eyebrow as if asking, have you looked at me?

You scoffed, "I meant this gym stupid. I assumed your fancy mansion had its own gym in it. Jimin told me you guys trained there." 

Trained for what? You didn't know.  

Jungkook placed his weight on the ground before straightening, "Oh well, I come between classes to pass the time, beats traveling across town," he explained as he rolled out his shoulders. 

Right, you remember him saying something about having evening lectures on Tuesday and Thursdays.

"How long until your class?" 

He smiled, "Long enough to take you upstairs and teach you a thing or two," the shock must have been apparent on your face because he quickly amended, "Self defense! There's a bunch of mats upstairs for the kickboxing classes they have; I could show you a few things." 

You sucked your teeth as you considered.

 You had no reason to be hostile and say no, there was nothing wrong with being able to defend yourself. 

At first, you were defensive because it made it all too real. You were worried knowing how to protect yourself would somehow drag you deeper into Jungkook's world, but you now realize you were in it, whether you were ready to be or not. It was best, safest, to be able to protect yourself. 

"Alright, Jeon, but don't pull anything stupid," you warned as you got up and headed for the second level of the gym. 

"Alright, we'll start simple," Jungkook started as he approached you, you were standing on the center of the mat in one of the boxing practice rooms. He was slowly pacing around you reminding you of a preditor looking at you as if you were his prey, you weren't going to lie it made you want to wrap your arms around yourself self contiously, but you held your ground and kept your hands at your side. 

“I’m going to show you a handful of moves that you can use to get out of someoe grip if they try attacking you or grabbing you. Everything will be strictly offense.” he explained settling to stand infront of you. 

You nodded along to confirm you understood. 

“An important part of these moves is to get the guy down and then disengage no beat his ass. I think they’ll be super useful and be a bit more effective than throwing a shoe at someone.” He said with a smirk. 

You smiled cheekily at him, “Hey don’t hate. You’re just jealous because you could never be as resourcful as I am.”

He rolled his eyes with a scoff before clapping his hands together and changing his stance, "I'll start by showing you how to get out of someone's grip if they grab you by your hair," he said, approaching you. 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," you said quickly, putting your hands up in defense, "We don't play dirty, no hair pulling," you warned as you backed away. 

Jungkook flashed a bunny smile in amusement, "Unfortunately, a lot of guys do. If I remember correctly that's exactly how they got you down the night you saved me” he teased, but hesitated as he saw your discomfort. 

"Don't worry I'll be gentle I promise." he said softly as he approached you again raising his arm as if reaching for your braid. 

You shook your head furiously, "Aren't we supposed to practice on you first?" you argued. "Ya know so that you can explain it better." you pushed trying to delay the inevitable. What have you gotten yourself into?

"Ella, I don't have a ponytail," he started, but your hand quickly shot for the back of his head, entangling your fingers in the soft waves and gripping them lightly. Jungkook let a sigh escape his lips as you tugged his head back slightly, and he had to blink to remember himself before he continued. 

"Okay," he said breathlessly as he centered his weight, "A lot of people have the instinct to pull away or try to run, that won't work," he started. 

"What you do is you swing your arm around up and over theirs, and pinch their elbow into the crook of yours and push down," he gently acted out his explanation. 

You stumbled quickly, releasing your grasp on his hair as you felt pressure pushing your elbow opposite of how the joint naturally bends. 

You promptly found yourself on your knees, your arm still trapped in his hold.

"Once you have them here, you can punch them and run," he said, throwing a mock punch at your face. You tried, and failed not to flinch. 

"These moves don't require strength. You have to use surprise to your advantage and, most importantly, disengage and get away as soon as possible." He explained as he released you and helped you up. 

"Now your turn," he reached for your braid, grabbing the part closest to the base of your skull and tugging slightly, but not enough to hurt. 

You resisted the urge to try and pull out his grasp and swung your arm into an arch like he showed you tucking his elbow between yours before pushing down. 

It was a little clumsy, and he didn't go down at first, but as you increased the pressure and shoved down a little harder, Jungkook released his grip on your hair and fell to his knees with a thud.

 "Now punch me," he ordered through his teeth. 

"I'm not-" he looked up at you defiantly, and you settled with a mocking air punch making a quite "Bam" as a sound effect before pulling away. 

"I'm not comfortable hitting you," you said, twiddling your thumbs together. 

Jungkook looked like he wanted to argue, but this was your first session, and he didn't want to get you too far out of your comfort zone. 

He hoped you would be willing to show him what kind of punches you were packing later on down the road, maybe with boxing gloves so you would be more comfortable.  

"Fine, but let's do it again to make sure you have the hang of it," he offered. 

You ran the exercise again, each time Jungkook was careful not to pull your hair too hard, but he did start resisting a bit more to encourage you to move and fight more quickly. And while it should have taken you a little longer to get him to the ground each time you attacked with new vigor, making sure you moved fast enough that he couldn't resist too much. 

Jungkook smiled at you as you hovered your fist in front of his face menisenly, your face stelled and set in concentration. After a few more rounds of grabbing your hair at various angles, the defensive move came naturally to you, and you got him on the ground successfully each time. 

"Good, good, okay, let's move on," he said breathlessly as you helped him up from the ground. 

"I'm going to teach you an easy one; it's what you do if a man grabs you around the wrist." He explained, walking closer. 

"Grab my wrist, and grip it tight," he ordered. 

You did as he instructed, although your fingers couldn't fully wrap around it. 

If he moved to pull out of your grip, he could do it easily, but to your surprise, he didn't yank downwards like your dad always told you to do to get out of a man's grasp. 

"You can yank and pull all you want, and that may get you out, but some guys will be able to just grip harder, and you're more at risk of injuring yourself," he explained, giving a light tug in your grasp. 

"Instead, place your other hand on top of his to hold it down. Use the hand in their grasp to grip their wrist for a more secure hold. Then swing your arm in a large circle, grab their wrist, and push down." 

You stumbled with a gunt as he followed through with his actions, using his free hand to hold yours against his wrist, and wrapping his captured hand around your wrist as he swung his arm in a large arc, effectively taking your arm and positioning at an awkward angle behind you before shoving you forward and onto your knees.

 Jungkook was careful not to push too hard to hurt you, but the discomfort was inevitable. 

"Alright, then you push him down and disengage, do not try to keep hold of a man that's bigger than you. Safety always comes first run if you can," he explained before releasing your hand and helping you up. 

"This move is a good one because it doesn't require strength. You're stronger than I thought you were, but guys still have weight and height to their advantage." Jungkook explained as he reached for your wrist, effectively circling his fingers around it to the point where his thumb and middle finger overlapped. 

You tried not to smile to yourself at the thought of Jungkook recognizing your strength. You never liked to be considered delicate. 

Jungkook once again explained the maneuver walking you through each step and critiquing your hand placement before you were ready to try it in real-time. 

You tried the maneuver on him swinging his arm before pushing him to the ground, and while he resisted the pressure, you smiled in victory as he fell to his knees. 

"That was good, but a bit quicker, the surprise is a contributing factor, anyone who's expecting it can get out of it," he offered. He drilled you on the process a few more times, making sure you moved in one fluid motion instead of initiating it step by the step before ordering you to try with your non-dominant hand. 

It was your third try with your non-dominant hand when things went wrong. 

You grew a little vicious moving faster so you could get him down before he had time to react or resist, and you shoved a bit harder. He fell to his knees with a harsh thud, but it was the way that he desperately yanked his wrist out of your grip with a sharp cry that set off red flags in your head. 

"Jungkook," you cried, falling on your knees next to him to see him cradling his arm to his chest. 

"It's fine," he said through his teeth. You glared as you reached for his hand, remembering that it was the same wrist he injured three weeks prior when he got jumped. 

"Oh, you idiot, where is your brace?" you demanded as you inspected the swollen appendage. 

He didn't respond, only smiled at you sheepishly. "Have you been lifting weights without it? Have you let it rest at all?" you demanded as you got up, pulling him up with you and dragging him out the boxing area, you had claimed. 

You continued to lecture him and gripe under your breath as you dragged him, by the good wrist, down the stairs, and through the gym to the ice machine where you wrapped a few cubes of ice into a wad of paper towels. 

"Here idiot," you offered grumpily.

"Is this how you talk to all your patients, Doctor?" he asked mockingly as he took the makeshift ice pack.

Bedside manner was something you were going to have to work on in med school. 

You get easily frustrated when people blatantly ignore doctors' orders and further jeopardize their health. If you have liver problems, stop drinking. If you have lung problems, don't smoke. If you have an injured wrist, put it in a damn brace and don't lift weights or pick fights with people. 

You told him as much as you watched him ice it for a few minutes though the action did little to help the swelling go down. 

"Are you mad at me?" Jungkook asked softly, not quite looking at you.

He peeked up to see your eyes soften a bit at the question, "I'm not mad, just a little frustrated. You're my friend, and I don't want to see you hurt. Especially since I was the one that hurt you," you explained, reaching to brush his sweaty bangs behind his ears.  

Jungkook tried to ignore how his chest tightened at the simple action, "It was my fault, you were only doing what I told you to do." he offered, not wanting you to feel responsible for his stupidity. 

You didn't look up at him, instead focusing down on his wrist, turning and angling it in a way that you could better check the swelling. 

"I have supplies at home, I could wrap it if you like?" you offered

"I'm really fine. It doesn't even- yah! Okay," he hissed as you applied light pressure to it. You smiled in victory, and the two of you parted ways briefly to grab your bags before meeting back up. Jungkook drove to school, so you didn't have to worry about catching the bus. 

It was a quick drive from campus to your apartment, Jungkook nimbly avoided the traffic of main roads by cutting through neighborhoods you didn't even know connected. 

"You know this city like the back of your hand, don't you?" you asked, surprised by how quickly you were pulling into your apartment complex. 

"It comes with the job," he said with a shrug. 

You didn't know what 'the job' was. If it was driving a getaway car or dealing drugs, or... you couldn't even think up other possibilities. 

You couldn't muster up the courage to ask him as you made your way up the stairs to your door. A brown and black cat with bright green eyes waited outside your door, meowing impatiently as you approached. 

"That's Jeremy," you introduced as you bent down to give him pets. Jungkook smiled at the ridiculously human name for a cat. 

"He's a stray, but I leave food out for him.  Hoseok won't let me bring him in the apartment. ‘Says he'd trash the place," you explained as you grabbed the little bowl you left outside your door and unlocked your apartment. 

"But he's so cute, how can you resist?" he questioned giving the cat some pets himself.

"I know!" you whined, setting the now filled bowl of cat food back on the ground. "I'm thinking about getting him a collar, though, just to make sure animal control doesn't come to scoop him up," you said offhandedly. 

"I say you just let him move in, fuck Hoseok. We're mad at him anyway, right?" Jungkook said jokingly. 

You laughed along as you made your way to the living room area, "Take a seat," you ordered, gently pointing to the couch, "I'll go grab my first aid kit."

Jungkook sat down immediately, sinking into the worn brown couch as he inspected the apartment. It wasn't quite a studio, the entire front area was open to what was the kitchen, dining room, and living room, but there was a door that gave the bedroom some privacy, and another door that leads to what he assumed was the bathroom. 

The apartment wasn't dirty, but it was well lived in. 

The front was slightly crowded, the entertainment center and the coffee table in front of the couch were nearly touching. You had two bean bags stacked in the corner next to the sofa, probably for when you had more guests. And there was an array of fuzzy blankets draped over the couches and piled next to the bean bag chairs. 

The one window next to the door had various potted plants scatted in front of it and a few were hanging from ropes in the ceiling.

 Most of them looked the be herbs and cacti. Jungkook could tell by the way sprouts were missing their leaves that you most likely cooked with them. 

The natural smell of the plants scented the air with a mild and refreshing spice scent of mint, basil, and rosemary. But the strongest scent came from the pot of wild lavender that was placed next to the couch. The floral scent put him at ease naturally and reminded him of the time Jin put lavender drops in his diffuser when he complained about having a hard time sleeping. 

The kitchen was small, the cabinet doors were on crooked hinges, and perhaps had chipped paint, but you had taped little slivers of miss-matched scrapbook paper over the worst spots. And the look was pleasantly charming. There was no counter space, but he saw a small card table in the corner with a knife block and cutting board on it that you must use for your prep station when your cooking. 

 The dining room table had three miss-matched chairs, but the little cushions on them somehow tied the whole look together and made it seem like a matching set.

 Everything looked thrifted and worn, but the little touches you added, the cushions and pillows on the couch, the small tapestry of cacti Jungkook was pretty sure every college girl ordered for her dorm room, and the fairy lights that lined the living room walls made the place feel cozy and homey. 

He could see a little part of you in every piece of the apartment, and because of that he immediately felt at ease, and at home in it. He imagined you and Hoseok must spend many nights in the cozy room, cooking dinner together, or having long movie nights. 

He couldn’t help but slip himself into the fantasy and wondered if there would ever be a day where this apartment would be a familiar comfort. If he would know the story of how you got those chairs or where the photos pinned to the refrigerator door were taken.

You were thankful that the front of your apartment was at least presentable with the surprise company. Your room was a train wreck you planned to keep hidden. After digging through your closet for your first aid kit, you cleared your coffee table of its mess of textbooks and flashcards and set your first aid kit on top. Jungkook's eyes nearly bulged out of his head as he took in the size of the kit. It looked fit for an EMT. 

You detoured to the kitchen, first grabbing an ice pack out the freezer and handing it to him. 

"You might have strained it a little while you were driving, I want as much swelling as possible to go down before I wrap it," you explained.

 Before you ruffled through the kit, moving several tools, Jungkook didn't quite know the purpose for, until you grabbed a bottle of ibuprofen. "Take this for the swelling," you ordered, handing him a cup of water. 

"Thanks, I'm sorry to put you through the trouble," he said sheepishly. 

"No, I don't mind." you amended. And it was true, helping people like this, easing their pain and making them more comfortable was something you took pride in doing. 

You could feel the approaching awkward silence, and you took the chance to ask the question that was nagging at the back of your head. 

"So earlier you said knowing the city 'comes with the job' what do you do? Ya know, for BTS?" you asked hesitantly as you pushed back at the cuticle of your thumb. You were lucky not to have a nail-biting habit, but you did have a habit of pushing back your cuticles when you got fidgety. 

"Oh umm, it kinda changes over time, the inner circle has responsibilities and such, but our duties are pretty ambiguous. We don't have assigned jobs like Armys do.." Jungkook said hesitantly. 

You looked at him expectantly, and he continued, "Like Suga Hyung is head of surveillance, but he also does investigations and fieldwork and such. And Jin Hyung is head of intelligence, but he also does a lot of the business for BulletProof, and he completely runs Sugar Daddy. Jimin is our arsonist, but he can fight, and deal, and do a lot of things really," he said, rambling. 

"I'm sorry, did you just say Jimin is an arsonist?" you asked in disbelief. Jungkook looked at you, shocked but nodded. 

"He's really good at science stuff, that's why he bakes so good." Jungkook offered as an explanation. 

You think back to the chemistry lectures you had to sit through every time Jimin taught you a new recipe. It made sense, but you were still surprised. You would expect something like arson to be more in V's field with the crazy look in his eyes. 

"Okay, but you still haven't told me what you do," you pushed. 

At this point, Jungkook's ice pack was starting to drip, and you were probably good to wrap his wrist, but you were too caught up in better understanding BTS and everything that they do. 

Jungkook huffed out a nervous laugh, "I do lots of stuff. When I first started, I was dealing. I worked my way up to more of the pharmaceuticals and medical-grade stuff. I mostly sold insulin or other simple medicines like that. The pharmacy industry is way corrupt, and poor people need meds too, ya know?" he rambled.

 You nodded in agreement. Pharmaceuticals and health care expenses were something you were continually challenging your teachers on in your ethics class. You hated becoming a doctor knowing health care was a business people monopolized in Alcorn. 

"I've helped Suga with surveillance some I really like that. I'm studying software engineering to get better at it. I think I'm faster at hacking than Suga is at this point, but don't tell him I said that. I've also just kind of been the muscle for the inner circle. When RM and Jin have meetings, I always go as back up. I lead training sessions and help teach new recruits how to fight, too." he went on.

Jungkook didn't want to tell you the other reason why he went to meetings.

For some reason, he felt like telling you he's the heir of BTS wouldn't sit with you well. To know that he was training to be a crime lord and was minoring in business so he could perfect the art of embezzlement and make network connections while taking classes with the next generation of Alcorn's businessmen and investors. 

He didn’t want to talk about how BTS had a timeline of working its way out the gang scene of the Westside and worm their way into the upper East. RM runs BTS more like a mafia, a family with limitless assets and connections, depending more on his and Jin's charm and connections than violence and brute force to make business deals. 

Jungkook also didn't know how to tell you or any of his hyungs that he didn't want to be rich.

 He knows he's in no position to complain, he's been living a life of luxury since he was 15, but he knows that money isn't being distributed equitably to Army and other lower ranks of BTS. 

RM always reminds Jungkook, it's not their responsibility to share evenly with all of BTS. There would be no assets, no way to recruit more members, no comfort for everyone if they did.

 There is nothing to keep Army from climbing their way up the ranks in BTS. RM has the baseline standard of ensuring everyone's needs are met; they have a home and a job. What they chose to do with their potential after that is up to them. You get out of BTS, what you give.

 And Jungkook understands that, but he still can't shake the feeling of unease from his chest. That BTS could be using their power and influence, not to invade the markets of the upper East, but instead to make the Westside a better place. 

He knew he was stupid for having dreams of non-profits and housing reforms, but he can't keep those feelings from nagging at him from the back of his mind. 

Jungkook's rambling fell quiet, and you could see the conflict on his face. Maybe you were pushing for too much too soon. Maybe BTS expected things from Jungkook that he was ashamed of like Hoseok was ashamed. 

"I shouldn't have asked," you said, reaching for his hands. 

"No, it's okay. It's just more complicated then I realized," he explained as he watched you wipe the water from the ice pack off his arm. 

You dug through the first aid kit for some gauze and butterfly strips, "I'm sorry if it's a little tight. I'm a low on gauze, "you said as you started wrapping the bandage, taking care to make sure his hand was set in the proper position. 

The two of you fell into small talk as you started to work. 

You talked about your classes, what your favorite pastry was at Sugar Daddy. He asked you about where you were from and whether or not you missed your home.

And it was an answer you always struggled to give, because while a piece of you always yearned to be home, to talk in your native tongue, and see your family. You know you could never bring yourself to return home. Alcorn has rooted itself so firmly in you; you don't think you'll ever leave. 

You found yourself losing track of time, as you told him stories of the funny cultural differences between your home and Kros. And too soon you noticed the sun had set in your window. 

"Jungkook, you missed your class," you exclaimed as you remembered he was only at the gym for a short break. 

He flashed his bunny smile as he chuckled, "I missed both of them, but I don’t mind. But I probably should head home soon. I have a ton of homework, and you mentioned you have a test in two days." he said with a sigh. Being such a responsible adult was such a burden sometimes. 

He wanted nothing more, but to talk with you more for hours into the night and morning.

"Of course, sorry for keeping you so late, and sorry for the shitty bandage job. I really need to go get more gauze." you rambled nervously as you got up to accompany him on the three-foot walk it takes to get from the couch to your door. 

You barely had enough gauze to properly wrap around his wrist, you had to get creative and use tape and butterfly bandaids to stretch across the bits of fabric that doesn’t meet to secure it together. 

"It's fine, it's fine," he amended as he laughed nervously, "besides, I have my brace in the car," he admitted nervously—his uninjured hand traveling to rub the back of his neck.

You stared at him in fake outrage, "You had your brace this whole time? Why did you-"

"I wanted to hang out with you," he said, shyly effectively putting your overdramatic reaction to a halt as you flushed. 

"Well then ask to grab a coffee or watch a movie, don't waste my precious medical supplies." you teased as you opened the door for him. 

His eyes lit up in response as he turned back to face you. 

"So would you? Want to hang out again sometime?" he asked his doe eyes shining so bright you swear it was an ability he actively abused. 

"I'll have to check my calendar, but I think I can manage to squeeze it in, but first, we should both get through test week," you said, trying to keep a cool tone. 

Jungkook’s nose scrunched slightly as he flashed you a bunny toothed smile, and you couldn’t contain your own as he wished you a good night and heading home. 

You watch from your door as he made his way down the stairs and to his car. Jungkook turned and looked at you over his shoulder three times as he made the descent, flashing you a small smile and wave each time he did. 

Finally, he made it to his car giving one final wave before he buckles in his pulled out of sight. You moved to close the door sighing as you added Jeon Jungkook to the list of confusing emotions spiraling through your life. 

You felt a soft nudge and looked down to see Jeremy meowing at you, demanding more food as if he didn't have a full bowl next to him. 

You should be scoffing at the audacity of this cat, but instead, Jeon Jungkook has you smiling softly over the memory of how he bent down and gave the kitty some pets while still in his workout clothes from before. The juxtaposition of his tone tattooed arm petting Jeremy’s soft fur would haunt you in the back of your mind for a while. 

Jeremy meowed at you again, and you sighed, reaching for his bowl. "Get in here," you called and watched as Jeremy happily trotted into the house. 

And you smiled proudly to yourself as you watched the kitty explore his new home, sniffing at your lavender plant with piqued interest.

Fuck Hoseok's rules, You have a pet cat now. 

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