#someone let him commit arson

[autisticbokutoenthusiast]

not to sound like a ray apologist but thinking about his behaviour after remembering he is in love with his best friend and everyone knows it and also knows he'll never be good enough for it to be reciprocated, hes a shit ton of poor decisions in a trenchcoat and no one cares, he has the glossiest poutiest lips that go chronically underappreciated and unkissed, he lives only because nothing has killed him yet, he's given up on receiving his fathers love to the point that even feeling his anger and disappointment is just a stale experience and a chore, he sleeps one room away from where he found his moms dead body- having chosen to make a home for himself in the same place she caged her misery, and he is 22 years old. all things considered id personally be so much worse.

[windownextdoor]

THE NEIGHBOR NEXT DOOR

plot + sfw + nsfw + slightly!insecure!reader wc: 931 reader has never had a reliable man in her life, so she's learned to do stuff on her own, until simon. pt.1

dull.

that's probably how you'd describe your life. such a mundane routine, such a fucking bore.

but, what could you do? people judged off of your looks, not if you were a serial killer or had commited arson in seven different countries. they judged you off of the size on your jeans. the size on your t-shirt. you'd call yourself easy if it wasn't for the nagging self-awareness that said, 'no, no one would want you.'

as you stood in front of your new apartment door, you looked at the door directly across from yours, a small '1011' over it. your landlord said your neighbor was a 'piece of work'- but, you just shrugged at his comment. you looked back to your door and put the keys in the keyhole and turned.

fresh paint and wood assaulting your nostrils as you stepped in, closing the door behind you as you inhaled once more.

yes.

this was going to be the change you were looking for.

────୨ৎ────

a full week had passed, and you hadn't seen your neighbor once. was he a hermit? did he have medical problems that prevented him from leaving the house? was he-

you are looking into it too much.

that was exactly what you told yourself when you stepped outside of your apartment, getting ready to leave for work when you collided with someone's humongous back.

"oh shit, i'm so sorry, i wasn't looking where i was going-" you stopped yourself as he turned around, finally getting a good look at the man.

line-backer shoulders. muscles. big thighs. dowdy blonde hair. tattoos for days.

way out of your league.

"'s alright." was all you got back in a deep, scratchy voice. he then proceeded to turn back around and walk into the apartment directly across from yours.

'awh shit.' was all you could think as your jaw was slightly open. hot neighbor. good god.

────୨ৎ────

after work that day, you went to the supermarket. you needed to put food in your fridge at some point. you went in and out of isles, looking at your phone for your list, making sure to get everything you need.

maybe you'd make your neighbor something. some cookies or a pie. typical neighborly shit to let him know, 'hey, i'm not an asshole and you can ask for help anytime you need!'.

were you getting ahead of yourself? probably.

but as soon as you got home, you didn't realize just how many groceries you'd bought. you were a 'one trip bitch', or whatever your friend said when you had managed to bring all of her groceries into her house in one go.

you loaded all of your groceries onto your arms, burning as you stretch to close your trunk before-

"y'need help?" that same smoky voice from in the morning.

you laughed sheepishly, looking past your car to see him standing on the sidewalk by both of your apartments, "ah, no, just closing my trunk-"

"gonna knock y'self over the fuckin' head with your groceries while y'do it, hold on," the man spoke, walking over in a few strides, closing your trunk for you.

your arms burned, but you forgot about it temporarily, "thank you so much, uh..."

"simon."

"simon! yes. thank you so much, simon." you smiled, finally knowing your neighbors name, but your arms were screaming at you, "well, i'll let you get back to whatever you were doing-"

"aren't y'going to need help opening the door?" simon spoke, his eyes staring straight into yours, drifting down to the bags that weighed your arms down by the second.

your voice was feathery, feeling slightly bad for taking the mans time. "you're good, i can open the door myself-"

"jesus christ, c'mon, give me your keys. standin' here ain't helping you." he held his hand out and-

you gave them to him. without thinking. he could be a robber. you could've just gave your keys to a serial killer.

but, he walked right up to your door and unlocked it, looking back to you, "you comin' or not? 's your apartment, right?" and you finally started walking towards the collosus of a man.

you gave him another quick thanks as you stepped into your apartment, the cold air hitting you. you placed your bags down, thinking he'd, y'know, leave and just go back to his apartment, but he closed the door behind him, muttering something about, 'not lettin' the cold air get out'. he looked at you expectantly, like he was waiting for a question.

"are you trying to be a good neighbor and help me put up my groceries too?" you asked with a soft laugh, wondering if that was the question he was waiting on.

"got nothin' else better t'do." he replied gruffly, walking into your open layout kitchen, making your apartment seem so small. you just stared at him as he opened your fridge, no hesitance, "jesus, woman, you livin' on crumbs and water?"

that made you laugh. you saw the smallest twitch of his lips. "no, i moved in a week ago, that's why my fridge looks so...bare."

he shakes his head like a disappointed dad.

"alright, start givin' me some groceries to put away. can't promise i'm the best at organization, but you'll have food." he has to physically bend down some to actually put food in your fridge.

'god, he's attractive.' you think as you start handing him food to put in the fridge.

and he's already being such a nice neighbor.

and he's going to stay being a nice neighbor.

right?

────୨ৎ────

pt.2

[sunshineangel0]

-baking, because murder is wrong. ✩‧

pairing- lee felix x reader summary- After a frustrating day, you show up at Felix’s apartment in the middle of the night, demanding a baking session before you do something illegal. genre- fluff, comedy, best friends to lovers word count- 1.6k warnings- mentions of stress/frustration (but no heavy angst), excessive fluff and best friends-to-lovers tension (your heart may combust), mild swearing (a few curses here and there), lots of playful banter and teasing ! not proof read (sorry for spelling mistakes etc.)

2:03 AM – Felix’s Apartment

Felix was enveloped in a deep, restful slumber when his phone began to vibrate aggressively against the wooden surface of his nightstand. At first, he ignored it, burrowing deeper under his blanket. Then it buzzed again. And again. And again. With a groggy sigh, he finally reached for it, squinting at the screen.

Y/N🦋: I’m outside.

Y/N🦋: Open the door before I commit arson.

With a resigned sigh, Felix dragged himself out of bed. The clock on his nightstand blinked 2:17 AM in glaring red digits. Of course. This wasn’t the first time you'd turned up at his doorstep in the dead of night, exuding an unmistakable air of barely contained chaos.

Felix shuffled to the door, rubbing the remnants of sleep from his eyes. As he unlocked it, he was greeted by the sight of you, swathed in an oversized hoodie that dwarfed your frame, your hair tousled as if you’d run a marathon through a windstorm. In your arms, you clutched a bag of flour with the intensity of someone holding a weapon, ready for battle.

“…Do I even want to ask?” he muttered, his voice a mix of amusement and resignation.

You pushed past him, your footsteps echoing off the wooden floor as you marched into the apartment. "I need to bake before I do something illegal," you declared, your tone a storm cloud ready to burst.

Felix just shook his head, closing the door with a soft click. He was completely unfazed, accustomed to your nocturnal baking escapades as an antidote to whatever madness the world had thrown your way.

Felix leaned casually against the kitchen counter, his eyes following your every move as you aggressively swept ingredients from the cupboard and plunked them onto the table with a loud clatter. "So," he drawled, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement, "who's got you all riled up this time?"

You slammed a hefty bag of sugar onto the counter, sending a small cloud of white dust into the air. "My boss is an idiot," you snapped, the frustration evident in the sharpness of your voice.

Felix nodded slowly, his expression one of feigned seriousness. "Mhm."

"And my coworkers are absolutely useless," you continued, grabbing a carton of eggs and placing it beside the flour with a thud.

"Right," Felix said, his tone encouraging you to vent more.

You threw your hands up in exasperation, your voice rising with each word. "And I swear, if one more person tells me to 'just calm down,' I'm going to start throwing hands."

Felix couldn't suppress his grin any longer and reached for a mixing bowl, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Alright. Let’s rage bake," he said, ready to join in the therapeutic chaos.

It started innocently enough, with the kitchen bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun. Felix stood at the counter, meticulously measuring flour with a slight furrow of concentration on his brow. Meanwhile, you were beside him, whisking the batter with a fierce determination, your movements a blur of energy.

Then—

“You know you’re supposed to gently fold in the butter, right?” Felix teased, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he glanced over at you.

You shot him a glare, eyebrows raised in defiance. “Do I look like I care about technique right now?” you retorted, the whisk still clutched tightly in your hand.

Felix snorted, a chuckle escaping as he shook his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You’re dangerous,” he remarked, feigning a look of mock terror.

Then, before he could react—

You scooped up a handful of flour and flicked it at him, watching as a cloud of white powder puffed into the air, settling on his shirt.

Felix froze, his eyes wide with surprise as he processed the sudden attack. You broke into a wide grin, feeling a rush of triumph.

“…Oh, you’re done for,” he murmured, a playful threat in his voice.

With that, he grabbed a fistful of flour and launched it at you, a burst of powdery chaos swirling around you both. You gasped, ducking and weaving just in time to avoid the white storm. “You little—” you began, laughter bubbling up uncontrollably.

Chaos erupted in the small kitchen. Flour flew through the air like snow in a blizzard, sugar spilled across the countertop, and Felix danced around your attacks with surprising agility, a grin never leaving his face. You were mid-throw, about to hurl another handful, when Felix lunged forward. With a swift motion, he wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you momentarily off the ground and spinning you away from the counter.

The two of you crashed gently against the fridge, laughter ringing out as you both tried to catch your breath, the world around you dusted in white. Felix’s face was only inches from yours, his eyes locked onto yours, a soft smile playing on his lips.

And suddenly—

You weren’t thinking about your boss, whose endless demands had been weighing on you. You weren’t thinking about your awful day, filled with stress and frustration. You were just thinking about him, the warmth of his presence and the laughter you shared, and nothing else seemed to matter.

The way his eyes crinkled when he laughed reminded you of the sun peeking through clouds on a dreary day. His hands lingered on your waist, warm and reassuring, as if they belonged there. His smile softened, just slightly, as he looked at you, the corners of his lips curling gently upward. Your heart skipped a beat, a fluttering sensation that you couldn't quite control.

And before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out of your mouth—"…You look good like this."

Felix blinked, surprise flickering in his eyes, before a playful smirk spread across his face. "Covered in flour?" he teased, gesturing to the white dusting on his shirt.

You laughed, a light, airy sound that filled the kitchen, and nudged his chest with the back of your hand. “No, I mean—” You hesitated, your gaze dropping to the floor as you tried to gather the courage that seemed to have slipped away.

Felix tilted his head, his eyes gentle and encouraging. Then, in a quieter voice, he urged, “Say it.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you. This was dangerous territory, a line you had both been dancing around for months. But maybe, just maybe, you were tired of pretending. So you exhaled, your voice barely above a whisper, the words escaping your lips—"…I mean, I like you, dumbass."

Felix froze, his expression momentarily unreadable. Your stomach plummeted like a stone in a pond. Oh. Oh no. What if you had ruined everything between you?

But then, Felix's lips curved into a genuine grin, not teasing or smug, but soft and sincere, as if he had been waiting for this moment all along. Without a trace of hesitation, he said, “I like you too.”

Your breath caught in your throat, hope bubbling up inside you. “Yeah?” you asked, barely daring to believe it.

Felix chuckled, a deep, rich sound, and reached up to gently brush a smudge of flour from your cheek. “Yeah,” he confirmed, his eyes twinkling with warmth.

And then, slowly, sweetly, he leaned in and kissed you. It was a kiss that enveloped you like a warm embrace, tender and unhurried. It felt like all those late-night baking sessions had finally revealed their true purpose, like this was more than just a distraction. It felt like he was exactly where he wanted to be, and so were you.

You perched on the edge of the marble counter, your legs swinging idly back and forth, while Felix meticulously swept up the scattered flour that covered the kitchen like a fresh layer of snow. The remnants of your late-night baking escapade were everywhere—flour dusted the floor, bits of dough clung to the edges of the wooden table, and a sweet aroma lingered in the air.

“…So, technically, I still never got my revenge,” you mused, watching Felix’s careful movements as he wiped the counter with a damp cloth, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Felix paused, glancing up at you with an exasperated yet amused look. “I think you had enough fun throwing flour at me,” he retorted, brushing some lingering white powder from his dark hair.

You flashed a mischievous grin, the memory of your playful battle fresh in your mind. “Maybe.”

Then, as the moment softened, your voice did too, turning almost contemplative. “But I feel better.”

Felix’s stern expression melted away, replaced by a gentle warmth. He reached out, his fingers lightly tapping your knee, a silent acknowledgment of the bond you shared. “That’s why I let you wake me up at 2 AM,” he murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble that made your heart skip a beat.

You rolled your eyes playfully, feeling the flutter of your pulse quicken, and hopped off the counter, landing softly on the cool tile floor. “Come on,” you said, tugging at the sleeve of his floured shirt with a gentle insistence. “Cookies are done.”

Felix grinned widely, his eyes sparkling with a mix of affection and amusement, and allowed you to lead him toward the oven. Together, you both sank onto the floor, the warmth from the freshly baked cookies seeping through the plates in your hands. Sharing the sweet treats and exchanging shy, stolen glances, you couldn’t help but think—

Maybe baking really was better than murder. Especially when it meant discovering a love that felt as warm and comforting as the cookies you shared.

©sunshineangel0 𖹭 if you liked this work, please consider reblogging, commenting or liking! xoxo franzi 💋

[absinthehyuk]

love galore

pairing. ex boyfriend seungcheol + afab reader

summary. when you meet your ex at a charity event, you like to imagine that the universe just wants to kill you. luckily, the mysterious forces of nature have other plans.

w.c 0.9k

warnings. porn with very little plot, car sex, backseat shenanigans, riding, minor tit play, BIG DICK CHEOL!!!! steamy sex, skin slapping, petnames: hers baby, slut his cheol, cheollie — 18+ MINORS DNI!

a/n. exam szn testing my fucking patience. maybe i’m back. maybe i’m not. based off of the song love galore by sza but not rlly 🫶 also wtf we are at 800 followers?? thank you???!!!! also, i surived nnn ;)

this was supposed to be a relaxed evening for you, visiting the charity event in Gwangju just to look at some cute animals and donating for a good cause.

it was supposed to be a few hours that you didn’t spend moping about in your apartment after breaking up with someone who you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with.

well, the word ‘suppose’ doesn’t even cross your mind at the moment.

how could it, when his hands grab at your hips, his lips parted in a groan? when his mouth says your name so beautifully?

you’d not noticed seungcheol at first. not until you were on your knees stroking a moody ginger cat when suddenly someone’s fingers brushed against your own.

at first glance, you wanted to cuss him out. scream, yell, clock him in the jaw, commit arson– every crime under the sun.

but all you could do was helplessly moan like a desperate whore.

seungcheol hastily led you to his car, mouth melding with yours, opening the back door and practically throwing you inside. he tasted like mint and a hint of coffee. just the taste you liked.

nothing about the moment is soft. all that can be heard is his groans, your soft breaths and the lewd dance of your tongues.

“take your pants off,” seungcheol heaves, sitting upright in the backseat as he tugs you into his lap. one of his hands pushes his hair back, eyes dark as he scrutinizes you.

you follow his orders without batting an eye, unbuttoning your jeans with much difficulty in the cramped space and sliding them off.

seungcheol yanks your tank top down, spitting on your nipple as he spares it a lick. “missed you,” he mumbled, teething on your peak as if you hadn’t lost all train of thought the second his lips had met yours.

“missed you, missed these gorgeous tits, and of course, this needy pussy,” his fingers slide between your legs, prodding at your folds. “she’s still mine, right? or did you find someone else?”

you shake your head with a whine when his fingers enter you, feeling your tight walls contract around him. with the pad of his thumb on your engorged clit, seungcheol thrusts his fingers in, a pace that has your mind fogging.

“c-cheollie,” you hiccup, but he shushes you with a bite on your left nipple. “shush baby, just enjoy it,” his words are hoarse, as his tongue lavs over and over your perky mounds.

you can feel the impending telltale of your orgasm the second his fingers curl and they hit that spot inside of you. seungcheol feels a gush of arousal from you, not letting you cum, but just about there to silently remove his fingers and suck them into his mouth.

his cock replaces his fingers, and you just about lose the air from your lungs. no matter how many times you’ve had sex with him, it always feels like the first.

the fat tip pushes past your folds, slowly sinking you down on him. he hisses at the contact. “still so tight f’me... you’ve been a good girl, haven’t you? didn’t let anyone touch what’s mine, hm?”

he knows he’s blabbering, but when he notices the tears spring up to your eyes, seungcheol’s fingers, slightly wet from his saliva wipe them away.

“it’s okay, baby. i love you. i still do.”

you lean into his touch, relishing in the soft moment inside the steamy car when the bastard ruins it.

seungcheol bottoms out inside you, eliciting a moan that sounds so pornographic, you wonder why you’ve not switched careers yet.

the one thrust is enough for you to grab onto his shoulders, lips crashing against his with the power of a sea storm as you begin to ride him.

your tongue swirls with his, squelching noises coming from down below as he meets your thrusts halfway, hands planted on your hips. he sets the pace, your ass bouncing on his thighs, a noise that he has thoroughly yearned for.

“such a good little slut for me,” he whispers against your lips as you lean back, tits bouncing in his face as your thighs start to ache.

but you couldn’t care. not now anyway.

“so big inside me cheol... filling me up all the way,” you moan, eyes rolling as your lower stomach tightens slightly.

the stretch of his cock is too much, splitting your pussy into two in the best way possible. you feel every ridge and vein of his cock, twitching inside you as you praise his size. god, the man’s ego was almost as huge as his dick.

“gonna make me cum like that, baby,” seungcheol whispers, one of his hands leaving your hips to come up and squeeze your mounds. “want me to pull out?” he asks, flicking your nipple with a finger.

“fuck– hah! yes, pull out, pull out!”

with one last thrust and impeccable timing, you feel yourself cum, as he pulls out and releases all over your stomach. the white paints your skin and manages to land a few specks on your tank top.

seungcheol’s breathing is unsteady, as is yours. the sex induced fog seems to fade slightly, as you come down from the incredible high you’ve just experienced.

“stop looking like you regret this, y/n. i know you wanna come back to my place,” seungcheol pushes a strand of damp hair behind your ear, pressing a soft kiss to the sweaty skin of your jaw.

the moment is soft, a rare gem among the monstrous haze that the demon of lust had bestowed upon the two of you.

“what do you think, baby? wanna fuck on the couch like usual?”

oh, how you could you refuse that offer?

© absinthehyuk, 2024

[pathologicalreid]

just for now | s.r.

in which you find yourself helplessly in love with Spencer, and there's nothing left for you to do except finally let him catch you.

[previously]

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst (h/c) content warnings: blowing smoke part FIVE with an alternate ending tehehe, gunshot wounds, hospitals, arson/fire, blood, first aid, burns word count: 1.85k a/n: hahahahahahaha

The last thing you remembered was Spencer telling you he had to see you through, committing himself to watching another girl he loved die out of sheer loyalty.

Though the cool metal of the revolver had left your temple, you now felt an unfamiliar burn in your upper arm coupled with the overwhelming realization that you were still breathing. “Spence,” you spluttered, flipping your head up to see what happened.

While you’d been slowly tearing at your binds with a broken thumbnail, Spencer had managed to release his hands, leaving his ankles still bound when he lunged at the unnamed masked man. The now-empty revolver clattered to the ground, and its handler must have hit his head on something on the way to the floor because his head bent at an awkward angle while Spencer rolled off of him.

You could hear your blood rushing through your body while Spencer nimbly untied his ankles before scrambling over to you. “You almost had it,” he reassured you, pulling the last few fibers apart before turning his attention to your ankles.

Spencer helped you to your feet before gathering you in his arms. Through the cotton of his shirt, you could hear his heart pounding just as hard as yours was. “Are you alright?” You asked, though it was hard to place the fact that you were speaking, it sounded like your voice was coming from a foreign entity. It wasn’t the first time Spencer had tackled an UnSub, but it was the first time you’d seen it happen.

He pulled back slightly, looking down at you with his pupils blown in fear. “We should…” His voice trailed off, taking notice of the wound to your arm for the first time. “You’re bleeding,” he observed, face paling despite the fact that you were the one injured.

You looked over your shoulder, effectively waving off his concern when you heard voices coming from the hallway. “We need to go,” you urged, using your good arm to tug him in the direction of the door, away from the voices.

A stray bullet ricocheted off of the metal walls, striking a pipe above you while you hid behind a wall. Eyeing the burst pipe suspiciously, Spencer herded you through the building. He tried to stealthily hold his hand over your arm, applying firm pressure under the guise of staying together. Spencer guided you through the halls of the warehouse, moving with increasing urgency when you both started to smell smoke.

When the hallway split, another spray of bullets came, causing both of you to dive out of the way. In the chaos of violence, you ran, and in the process, you were separated from Spencer.

Glancing over your shoulder to see if he was behind you, you ran out of the side door. Not looking ahead to what you were running to but instead wondering what you might’ve been running away from.

The wind was knocked out of you when you ran into something—or rather, someone. You scrambled to regain your balance when you recognized the tattoo adorning the arm that caught you. “Derek,” Your voice gasped as you spun, looking around for any sign of Spencer.

There was no sign of the mess of brown curls you were so desperate to see. You tried to dig your heels into the grass, but you were led away from the structure.

“Where’s Spencer?” You asked, pulling yourself free of Derek Morgan and facing him, now joined by Rossi and an EMT.

The look on Derek’s face sent your heart into a freefall; he looked past you—back to the building—before shaking his head. “He came out thinking you’d be out here, but he ran back in when we told him you hadn’t come out yet.”

Blankly, you stared at your two teammates, making the split-second decision to dash to the doors, only to be stopped by Derek yanking you back. “No,” You screamed at him, trying to pull away as you watched the flames in the warehouse grow. “Spencer!”

Everything blurred together there, a mess of tears and a terrible headache that was developing. You continued to scream Spencer’s name while someone prodded at your wounded arm, only stopping when the ambulance doors closed, shutting you out from his fate.

You woke up in more pain than you had fallen asleep in. A sharp throbbing in your upper arm where your gunshot wound had been bandaged pulled you from your slumber, reminding you of the events of the last twenty-four hours. You were surprised when you opened your eyes to find your hospital room completely empty, no lingering members of the BAU waiting to witness those first blinks where you were just getting the crust from your lash line.

Using your good arm, you dragged a hand down your face and wiggled your toes in your complimentary hospital socks, trying to reacclimate yourself with the feeling of being alive by way of touch. You briefly skimmed the whiteboard that bore your name and patient information before looking around the rest of the room, eyes catching on an innocent yellow sticky note.

Written in metallic gel pen on the paper was: S.R. Rm. 207.

Your eyes flittered back to your patient board, finding the room number listed in the nurse’s handwriting—204—perfect.

Thankfully disconnected from your IV tower, you pushed your covers off of your legs and swung off of the bed. Standing on shaky legs, you adjusted the back of your gown, making sure nothing was exposed before walking over to the door.

You cringed at the sound your socks made against the linoleum; each noise seemingly amplified tenfold while you tried to make your escape. In the corner of your floor, you peeked out of the door and scanned the room numbers for 207 before searching for any nurses who might try to steer you back to bed.

It served as some comfort that Spencer was only a cattycorner from you; some of the terror that had been associated with him running into a burning building had ebbed at the realization that he wasn’t in a burn unit. You stepped out of the door, taking sleuth-like steps across the floor until you found 207, cracked open, with nothing but a lamplight to illuminate the space.

Peering into his room, you saw him before he even noticed you were there, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose and a book propped open in his lap. However, what bothered you was that he was lounging in his own clothes, an old academy crew neck and flannel pajama pants. “Oh,” you breathed, accidentally startling him, “Well, that’s just not fair.”

His book snapped closed; you assumed he could simply recall whichever page he had ended on. “What are you doing?” He asked, brown eyes widening behind his lenses, clocking the bandages on your arm immediately.

Your face heated up as a result of his question. In the time you’d spent trying to sneak into his room, you hadn’t considered the possibility that he wouldn’t want to see you. Instead of voicing your concern, you shifted uncomfortably and closed the door behind you. “Really hoping my ass isn’t showing through my gown,” you answered.

Spencer looked around the room as if he were expecting someone else. “You shouldn’t be in here.” His mouth said one thing, but he set down his book with one hand and beckoned for you to approach him with the other.

Tilting your head to the side, you walked over to him until you were close enough to touch—close enough to kiss. The breeze of your exhales caused his hair to move in front of his forehead. “Are you gonna tell?”

His touch was so gentle, tentative fingertips found themselves on the cotton of your gown, careful so as not to harm any injuries he couldn’t see. He swallowed thickly, lamplight gleaming in his eyes as he shook his head once, “Not a chance.” He looked behind him, shifting on the bed and making room for you to join him.

Hospital beds were, of course, made for one, which meant the two of you were in close quarters together on his bed. There was something about seeing Spencer so dressed down that felt more intimate than any state of nudity he could ever be in; with this Spencer, there were no holds barred. With this Spencer, there were no walls to build. “You ran into a burning building,” you murmured, laying down so your injured arm could remain unhindered.

Spencer’s head bobbed, smoothing his thumb across your forehead before responding, “I thought you were in there.” His voice was wary, fully cognizant of the way his feelings had caused you to bolt before.

Taking your bottom lip in between your teeth, you nodded in understanding. An all-encompassing kind of comprehension that suited the circumstances, it was the kind of understanding that only came when you had once been between comprehension and the end. You were still breathing, and so was he, so there was only one way out. Sniffling, you nodded again, overwhelmed by the words that you couldn’t coax out of your lips.

So, Spencer did it for you. “Oh, honey,” his voice dripped with a similar sweetness, guiding your head to his chest so that you could rest. “Please don’t cry,” he pleaded softly. “I hate it when you cry.”

“I love you.” You wept to him, words you had been hellbent on taking to your grave practically slipped off of your tongue. You couldn’t pinpoint what it had been that did you in—his heroics, the way he smelled, your near-death experience—but perhaps it was an amalgamation of your whirlwind of circumstances that caused the three little words to be released into the atmosphere.

Spencer exhaled shakily, a broad hand splaying across your back as he blinked quickly, the rest of the room so quiet that you could hear the soft sound of his eyelids shutting. “You don’t need—”

You sniffled again, effectively interrupting his attempt to convince you otherwise. “Spence,” you breathed, “Haven’t we been through enough?”

He sighed, this time the air released itself smoothly, tugging your body closer to his, your combined warmth bringing you comfort that you had so dearly sought. “Yeah,” he conceded, “We have.”

“I—” you faltered, “I’m done running, if you’ll have me.”

Spencer was silent for a moment, and as his chisel started to pick at your heart, he spoke again before you could bleed out. “You know, you might need someone to help you out around your apartment while your arm heals,” he said, heavily implicating himself in your recovery.

For a moment, you thought of her, the girl hidden in the shadows, but when you lifted your head and looked into his eyes, you weren’t met with his grief. Instead, you found nothing but love, the kind that expanded and tightened your chest simultaneously. With love, you knocked down a final barrier and smiled softly at Spencer. “Oh, yeah. Do you know someone?”

"But we cannot simply sit and stare at our wounds forever." - Haruki Murakami

[kxsagi]

OUGHHHH MAY FIRST CAME 😈 at least here in Poland. You can ignore this if it’s something you don’t wanna write btw!!!

Can I request BL men that are already pro players, and they’re dating a reader that has chronic pain and uses mobility aids because of it? And the media is super weird ab it cause how dare a pro athlete date a disabled person. Maybe he comforts her because she stumbled upon a weird ass article or a hate comment idk.

Uhhh ness shidou bachira and whoever u want 🙇‍♀️ I love you and your writing I hope you have a good day!

SORRY if this is too specific. Shout out to my fellow disabled girlies 😔✊

“𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐝”

a/n: NOOO I LOVE THIS, I LOVE YOU AND YOUR COMMENTS AND I AM SO HAPPY I GET TO WRITE THIS FOR YOU

ft. ness alexis, shidou ryusei, bachira meguru, kaiser michael, itoshi sae, itoshi rin, isagi yoichi

ness alexis

ness is literally the definition of a gentle boyfriend, so the moment he sees that one trashy gossip headline – “Pro Athlete Seen With Disabled Girlfriend: Fans Concerned?” – his jaw drops like someone just slapped him. 

“concerned for what?” he whispers like he’s in a horror movie. 

you find it first, though. you're just scrolling while curled up on the couch, using your heating pad, when you freeze mid-scroll and go, “hey, do you wanna see something funny, but soul-destroying?” 

ness peers at your phone and immediately climbs onto the couch to wrap himself around you like a human blanket. “do not let stupid people ruin your mood. you are my favorite person. also, what is this site even called? ‘goalz4gossip’? this looks like it was made by a 12-year-old with an ipad and rage issues.” 

he goes on a small rant in german under his breath and then kisses your forehead 400 times. 

“you’re literally the strongest person i know. the media can go date each other if they’re so pressed about us.” 

shidou ryusei

shidou finds a comment that says, “how is she even keeping up with a guy like him? she uses a cane 💀” and immediately screenshots it. 

not because he agrees, but because he wants to roast it on his private story. 

his post is just a screenshot with the caption: “buddy she keeps up with me just fine, she made me cry last week for stealing her fries. sit down.” 

shidou doesn’t sugarcoat stuff, but he’s aggressively supportive. like, if someone tries to come at you sideways in public, he’ll bark at them. 

literally bark. 

“you okay, babe?” he says when you look a little too quiet after seeing one of those backhanded articles. 

you shrug and say, “i’m fine,” but he doesn’t let it go. he walks over, squats in front of you, rests his chin on your lap and goes, “wanna egg their office building? or better yet, light it on fire and commit arson together?” 

instead of actually committing a felony, he picks you up bridal-style and plops you into bed. “you’re hot, you’re smarter than me, and you walk cooler than 99% of the population. who cares what some sweaty journalist thinks?” 

he also gets you custom accessories for your mobility aids with little flames or skulls ‘cause you’re metal like that. 

bachira meguru

bachira is completely unbothered by the hate. but super bothered when it makes you upset. 

like you’re sitting in the park one day and overhear someone whisper “is that her? the one with the crutches?” and he notices how you instinctively stiffen. 

he grabs your hand instantly, leans into your ear and whispers, “they’re just jealous you’ve got me wrapped around your finger.” 

always trying to turn the moment silly so you smile again. 

later, when you’re spiraling a bit in your room reading too many mean reddit comments, he flops beside you dramatically. 

“stop. too much screen. i’m gonna fart on your phone.” 

you shove him away laughing, but he tugs you close with a pout. 

“you know… they don’t get to have you. i do. and i think your pain doesn’t make you less, it just makes you stronger and cooler. like a character in an anime who gets up anyway, no matter what.” 

then he insists on decorating your mobility aids with googly eyes and doodle stickers cause “it’s armor now. i’m your sidekick. beep beep.” 

michael kaiser

he acts unbothered in public, but he absolutely loses it behind the scenes when he sees an article titled, “Can a Pro Like Kaiser Settle for Someone Like Her?” 

“settle for– oh okay. okay. no one tell my manager i’m about to commit slander with a side of defamation.” 

you find him aggressively typing in a notes app. “dear anonymous hater from 'SoccerDailyBuzz': how does it feel knowing you could never even get a date with her, much less someone who calls you ‘baby’ while making espresso at 6 AM?” 

turns his anger into sarcasm but also kisses your shoulder after every sentence to calm himself down. 

“i didn’t fall in love with your pain, but i fell in love with the way you live through it. your stubbornness, your fire, the way you still make fun of me even when you’re hurting. that’s what makes you beautiful, you know? wait, that sounds so cheesy.” 

he makes a point to show you off even more. red carpet? he’s holding your hand the whole way, mobility aid and all. interview? he’s saying “my girlfriend is the strongest person i know” before anyone even asks. 

he sees your worth so clearly. and he makes damn sure everyone else does, too. 

itoshi sae

sae’s already got a reputation for being cold and unbothered, so people are shocked when he’s openly soft around you. 

he doesn’t do PDA or gush about you on TV, but the way he always slows his pace to walk beside you, carries your bag without a word, and makes sure you’re seated comfortably before interviews, it’s noticed. and, of course, dissected. 

you show him a headline that says, “What’s Sae Itoshi Doing With Someone Who Can’t Even Keep Up?” 

and he reads it with a completely neutral expression, then tosses your phone face-down on the table and goes, “well, that’s funny. you seem to keep up just fine when you’re lecturing me at 2 AM about leaving the stove on.” 

you burst out laughing, but he looks at you with the tiniest furrow in his brow. “does it bother you?” he asks quietly. 

you admit it hurts a little. and he just nods, slides over, and presses his forehead to yours. 

“they don’t get to know you. they don’t see how hard you fight. how much you endure. they don’t see you the way i do. and that’s their loss.” 

next time you two are seen in public, he’s the one walking with your cane slung over his shoulder like a sword. the caption on the paparazzi pic reads: “new accessory or relationship statement?” yes. yes to both.

itoshi rin

rin already hates the media, so this gives him another reason to despise them. 

when someone tweets, “idk i just think it’s weird for a high-performing athlete to date someone who can’t even do sports,” he literally glares at your phone like it personally insulted him. 

“what the hell does that even mean. i can’t do ballet, but i’m not out here judging people who can.” 

he’s blunt, but he’s furious on your behalf. he’s also the type to go down the rabbit hole of comments and get angrier by the second. 

when you try to downplay it – “it’s fine, i’m used to it” – he looks at you like you just said gravity isn’t real. 

“don’t do that. don’t act like you have to take it just because people are cruel. they’re wrong.” 

then, more softly: “you’re… more than what your body lets you do. and i fell in love with you, not your physical stats.” 

rin shows his love by doing things for you. adjusting your seat. finding the best accessible routes. learning how to help without hovering. 

someone once asked him in an interview, “how does your girlfriend feel about not being able to travel as easily to your matches?” 

rin deadpans: “she’s the reason i win. so unless you’d like to speak directly to my motivation, maybe pick a better question next time.” 

isagi yoichi

isagi is the type who genuinely doesn’t understand how people can be so heartless. 

like he reads one awful comment and goes, “... do they think you’re not allowed to be loved?” with genuine confusion in his voice. 

he’s devastated that you saw it. “you shouldn’t have to read stuff like that. i promise i’ll protect you from it all.” 

you shrug and tell him you’re used to it, and he immediately goes into ‘motivational team captain’ mode. 

“you being used to it doesn’t mean you have to accept it. people suck. you’re brilliant, and funny, and beautiful, and strong in a way most people will never understand. and you don’t have to prove your worth to anyone.” 

he holds your hand tighter when you’re out in public. makes a habit of stopping to adjust your pace so you’re never rushed. 

also, he subtly drags anyone who says anything ableist during interviews. 

“a lot of people think strength is just about running or scoring goals, but i’ve learned from my partner that real strength is showing up every day, even when your body fights you. that’s the kind of strength i look up to.” 

cue the internet sobbing. cue you sobbing. cue him also sobbing because he made you cry and didn’t mean to. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[dokidokidraft]

!!(Bad language)!!

If I don’t get to wife him up soon I’m gonna cry/die/commit arson/murder someone because I need him way too much :)

Wanna kiss his freckles and see him blush like a strawberry, his cheeky smile lighting up the room.

Wanna make him taiyaki (the fish pastry) just to see him grin and eat that shit up happily

Wanna bury my face into his soft, mossy curls and smell his shampoo, massaging his scalp for him or giving him head scratches just to stay near it.

Wanna see his emerald eyes close, as he slowly falls asleep right next to me, the sound of his breathing helping me fall asleep as well.

Wanna take him shopping, get him a new notebook and then refuse to let him pay for ANYTHING.

Wanna treat to his wounds that he gets from his battles, bandaging them or putting on burn ointment.

Wanna trace his scars on his hands and arms, tell him he’s “my hero” while moving to give his back a massage.

Wanna wife him up fr

@kimyoudraft

[causeimcrayzeebee]

Wolfgang Akire through the lens of the law: an analysis

i would like to give a disclaimer that while im very interested in the law, im not a lawyer or in law school. my knowledge comes from the few law classes i have taken, participation in a couple mock trials, and some personal research, so please take this with a grain of salt! if im missing something or saying something inaccurate, please let me know! i am always open to learning more!! not to mention this is my understanding of law in the United States, so this may differ by country.

in the end, this isn’t meant to be too serious, just using the knowledge i do have and applying it to p:eg!!!

okay now spoilers for the prologue and all of chapter 1!

well ig before we get into it let me say rest in peace a king... I will miss you, you hypocritical bastard........

alright, so firstly, let’s consider Wolfgang’s character profile.

two things stand out to me here. the first is how he has “successfully defended over 200 of his clients without dropping a single case.” we can infer that Wolfgang is a criminal defense attorney. it’s possible he could be a lawyer in the civil law sector instead, but considering his strong feelings about murder and crime, and the fact that this is Danganronpa, it leads me to believe he is a criminal attorney for the sake of relevance (I don't think any of us would care if he were a corporate attorney after all).

now, that sentence you just read is particularly interesting in the case of Wolfgang Akire. From the prologue's mock trial, we can see that Wolfgang feels very passionately about murder, condemning the murderer even without insight as to why they committed the crime, instead big on retribution and justice (which the definition of could definitely be debated). Yet, as a defense lawyer, Wolfgang would have been defending people from criminal accusations, from anything to armed robbery, arson, or murder. we’re not particularly sure on his view of other crime, but we can assume he also has a similarly negative view of it that he has of murder. out of 200 people (within such a short time span of finishing law school too), what are the odds that out of all 200, not one of them was actually guilty? of course, lawyers have the ability to drop or not take on cases, but as his profile says, he hasn’t dropped a single case! it’s quite possible he had complete faith that every client was innocent, but with the evidence and files he’d have to go through, he had to have seen something that was damning and prepared accordingly to address in the most sympathetic way possible to avoid prosecution winning their case. and that's the thing with Wolfgang; his job requires building sympathy for the accused, and it requires sowing seeds of doubt in prosecution's case. there had to have been someone that he was defending from an accurate charge(s). so whether he knew it or not, he has very likely defended people guilty of crime; and yet, he still feels very adamantly against them.

Here's where I fall short on my analysis; I honestly do not know what to make of this conclusion. his behavior and his ideals are almost contradictory in a sense. is this insight to wolfgang's clear hypocrisy? but what does that really say about him? I'd love to know what any of y'all think in regards to this :0

Now, the second thing that stands out to me is that he wants to make sure that everyone is fairly represented and make sure logic and evidence drive the discussion. While this does seem to be true, the mock trial shows that he lets his feelings become a big part of the discussion as well. everything he does screams prosecutor to me, so it was shocking to find out he works as defense. Wolfgang has a very interesting way of viewing things, almost dichotomous, unlike what his profile says. it's similar to the format of a trial, where it's not meant to be a team working together to find the complexities and nuance within a certain issue, but rather an attempt to prove your point and disprove the other side. trials aren't supposed to be a discussion where everyone reaches the truth together (Danganronpa trials are not very accurate but of course I don't think they were intended to be in the first place), they are for you to win your case-- as a defense attorney, its poking as many holes into the prosecution’s case as possible. (little fun side note, this is very similar to how debate works; Wolfgang and Damon are a lot more alike than one would originally think.)

Considering all of this, it makes me wonder if Wolfgang was intentionally trying to split the group apart,,,, because it's easier. because it makes more sense. as defense, lawyers may pin the crime on another, but without the burden of proof that prosecution does, they can sling out accusations to increase doubt on prosecutions case without having to actually prove it (that would be left for a separate case). it's easier to divide a group and have a bunch of people follow you while isolating the 'other side', and with that division made, it's more likely someone you isolated will be the 'villian' anyways; and in this case, this was true-- Eva, who has been socially ostracized her whole life, was driven to murder to protect herself from the blinding fear that everyone was out for her (even if that wasn't entirely true). this could be just how Wolfgang has gotten used to going through his life. maybe the bad habits he picked up from his father were the divisive kind of us vs them mindset lawyers have to have in a courtroom.

speaking of his father, let's address the motive-- there's so many things that Wolfgang's blackmail could be about; faking his law degree, not taking the bar exam, defending horrible people, the list goes on. Honestly, a scenario i have considered is that it's about him defending his father for a crime he actually did commit, yet winning the case; or his father commuting a crime in general and winning his case, leaving Wolfgang conflicted as that is the sort of thing he does all the time, yet his father had just taken away his mothers life and gotten free (this is very much just me guessing a possibility though). when Wolfgang was hallucinating, he says he's not like them (to diana who he thinks is someone else) and he'll never be like them; It's most likely that he saw his father. the theory I'm going with right now is that his father was at the very least heavily involved in the likely murder of his mother (thus bring her back in reference to his mom). his father was probably also a lawyer and may have pushed wolfgang into going into the field himself, especially when he sent him to law school as a teenager. maybe Wolfgang wanted to live up to the expectations his father had of him. who knows exactly what Wolfgang wanted everyone to know him as, it was probably a long the lines of a competent lawyer. but, as of right now it's all speculation (objection! haha.... that was not funny my bad), so again, I'd love to hear some thoughts.

Another little funny thing i'd like to note is when Damon and Eva come back to the dinning hall and Wolfgang asks where they've been, Damon responds saying it was for discussing the motive. He's internally smug about how defeated Wolfgang seemed to be by that, and I thought that the funniest shit; very similar to being on cross examination, thinking you have the witness in your hands, when suddenly they wiggle out of your accusation. he's so real for that.

that is pretty much all i've got so far! let me know what y'all think and thanks for reading!!! :)

[gguk-n]

Heart On The Grid (Min Yoongi x Sebastian Vettel's God Daughter!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Y/N was Sebastian Vettel's God Daughter. It came with a lot of benefits; like she practically grew up in racing. She was karting by the time she was 3 and winning races by the time she was 5. She wanted to be like Beb, she could't pronounce his name properly yet but Sebastian was and is her biggest inspirations. That's how she ended up on the paddock. All the drivers would fret and coo over her. She had the entire grid wrapped around her finger. The drivers would be at her beck and call; if Y/N was hot and uncomfortable they had ice and cold juices and ice-cream ready for her, if Y/N was cold, they would either remove their own sweaters or have an extra pair for her ready. She wasn't only her dad's princess but the entire Formula One's driver line ups.

She would interrupt most drivers during their media interviews who would just smile at her, lift her up and continue on with their interview as if it was the most natural thing. You would find a lot of old interviews of drivers with baby Y/N in their arms but as soon as she would spot her Beb, she would scream for him to come over and take her. Most drivers didn't let her off with a bit of a fight with Sebastian since they wanted to hold her. She was smart, she would talk to them like her parents talked to her; "Nando, I'm going with Beb now. I'll be okay. You do questions and then we can tuddle" she would explain slowly climbing into Sebastian arms who would be smirking at Fernando who was glaring at him.

Whenever she would be gone for school or her karting races, the paddock felt empty. There weren't random stickers stuck to their cars or extra ice-creams lying around. Even the interviewers would miss her since she would give an interview with Sebastian during media day. But most of all, Sebastian would miss his tiny shadow.

Sebastian would try to be there for her karting races as much as he could and she would always talk about Sebastian when she would be interviewed on who was her favourite driver. "So, Y/N, can you tell us who your favourite driver is?" the child interviewer asked. "It's Mark Webber, don't tell Sebastian though" she would tease while looking at him. Sebastian never took it too seriously, what pained him was she was growing up and had out grown her Beb. She wouldn't be as overtly affectionate as she was.

As she grew older, her visits to the paddock decreased with school and her interest shifting from racing to academics and then she started university. It was in University when she was pursuing her masters when she met Yoongi on her exchange programme in Seoul, South Korea. She had gone there to earn a new experience and returned with the sweetest boyfriend. Back then BTS had just started finding their footing in the industry and breaking out even in the west. With all the dating issue in K-Pop and with both their busy schedules, they kept their relationship on the down low. Sebastian was just happy his god-daughter hadn't bought some random man home.

Until one fateful day, Y/N had invited everyone to her house. Her reasoning; she wanted them to meet someone special. Both her father and Sebastian were dreading the day. Y/N cheerfully greeted her parents and Sebastian and his wife, Hannah. Her mother and Hannah were thrilled to hear that she was dating someone; and said someone was currently in the kitchen preparing the dinner. "He cooks?" her mother whispered looking at the man in the kitchen's back. "yes" she smiled looking at Yoongi lovingly. "You guys should sit down" she commented pointing at the sofa. Yoongi came out of the kitchen and greeted everyone. Sebastian and her dad were eyeing the poor boy like he had committed arson. "Hello sir. It's nice to meet you" he greeted her father. "I'm a huge fan, nice to meet you sir" Yoongi said shaking Sebastian's hand who had a vice grip on his but Yoongi just smiled and stood there.

The dinner began with out a hitch until they started interrogating Yoongi and the moment he said he lived in Seoul, you could hear the wheels in their head rotating; "Our Y/N isn't moving to Seoul. It's too far away. You can't have her, sorry, but she's ours." the two men screamed. "I'm no ones" Y/N said exasperated. "She's an adult darling, she knows what she's doing" her mother interjected. "But...but" her father tried to reason while Sebastian was shut up by his wife with a glare from across the table.

They finished the dinner without anymore interruptions. "Sir" Yoongi began looking at her father, Y/N was busy catching up with Hannah to notice, "I promise to take good care of her. She is the most important thing to me in my life. I promise to always make her happy and never let her cry. I really love your daughter. Will you let me marry her?" he asked. Both of the men sighed, they looked at each other before her father started speaking; "We can't tell her what to do, but if you really mean everything you said, then we will support her. But if you do anything to hurt her" "I will run you over with my car" Sebastian cut him off. Yoongi smiled, "Never, wouldn't even dream of it" he said.

Once everyone had filed out, at the door her father hugged her and whispered in her ear, "He's okay I guess." he lamented. "I wished you dated someone I knew so I could keep an eye on him but he's okay too I guess" Sebastian said begrudgingly as he hugged her good-bye.

Y/N had gone to South Korea to see Yoongi off for his military enlistment. It was the night before he was supposed to start and the pair were laying in each others embrace as Y/N peppered kissed once in a while across his face. "I love you" she stated. "I love you too" he replied suddenly sitting up. "Y/N, you make me the happiest I've ever been. I didn't think someone else could make me feel this way other than music. Will you do me the honour and marry me?" he asked now on his knee. She was in tears and could only nod. Yoongi slipped the beautiful ring on her finger and pecked her lips. "I love you. Can't wait to spend forever with you" he stated in her embrace. "me neither" she hummed as they stayed like that for a little longer since when the sun rose Yoongi would be gone, fulfilling his duty.

[karenandhenwilson]

I wish people would stop pretending or claiming that Bobby is an arsonist. As everyone who brings that up seems to be unable to look up the definition of that word, here is what the Oxford Dictionary says about it: "A person who commits the crime of arson."

And the definition of arson is: "​The crime of deliberately setting fire to something, especially a building."

The important word here is "deliberately", in case you missed it. Bobby did not go and set fire to the building. He did not manipulate the space heater so it would malfunction and cause a fire. He did not disable the fire alarm and fire suppression system in the building which both clearly didn't work.

Bobby left the empty apartment in a hurry and let the space heater run. But he should have been able to trust that the space heater wouldn't shoot any sparks randomly. He should have been able to trust the fire alarm and the fire suppression system in the building to be up to code and do their fucking job, as every single person living in that building should have been able to trust it.

Bobby might have some culpability about the fire getting started because he shouldn't have let the space heater run. But all in all, it was an accident that could have just as easily happened if he hadn't been high and drunk. That could have just as easily happened if someone caused a kitchen fire by accident or any other cause for a fire might have occurred. The real responsibility for the deaths that occurred lies with the building management because the security measures didn't work. And maybe a little probably even with the company who build the space heater.

And honestly, you shouldn't even need the in-canon report that's discussed for a moment and talks about Bobby not being found at fault for the whole situation, no matter what he thinks about it. What he thinks about it is his trauma and guilt talking, not the reality. What Amir thinks about it is his trauma and grief talking.

However, I'm aware of course that from a legal standpoint, a US court of law might rule him partly responsible for the property damage and deaths. I'm not going to do that kind of research for a ranting post into the laws of a foreign country. But they still wouldn't call him an arsonist or call the fire a case of arson or any of the deaths a murder. Because that's objectively not what happened.

So stop calling Bobby an arsonist! (Or just "arson". If you create dumb-ass memes, at least look up the right words.)

[haine-kleine]

dunno if I should call this a headcanon or a theory and I know Horikoshi just went with what looked cool but the more I think about Dabi's initial design when he came to the League in the context of what we learned about him and what we saw happen to him during the second war, the less sense it makes that his body was already in that state.

according to the anime, he was learning by watching Endeavor's videos online. before Sekoto, he wasn't learning from any source at all and went about his training intuitively, but after Sekoto I strongly doubt he would be actively practicing his quirk, for a multitude of reasons. his body was still healing from the skin transplantation, the trauma associated with accidentally burning himself to death, plainly not having a place to train a fire quirk, which tend to be flashy and to use your quirk in public, having a provisional license is required, otherwise he risks getting arrested. he did a very good job staying out of the public's eye for the 7 years since he escaped AFO, who was also implied to be unaware of Touya surviving for so long.

so as far as we know, all he did for those 7 years is lay low and be very online. which makes his remark to Spinner hilarious ngl, at least Spinner sprung up to action as soon as he saw something that had inspired him, while Dabi had spent 7 whole years sitting on his very personal trauma and not going to therapy.

when Giran brings him to Shigaraki, he doesn't share any information about Dabi save for him being very invested in Stain's ideology. no criminal records, maybe, but not even a word of his absurdly strong quirk? no mentions of arson at all? they did discuss Toga making it to the news, so Dabi being left out like that was a bit weird in the context of the conversation, like him seeking out Stain's contacts was enough reason to let him join the League. he won't be useful to you, Shigaraki, but he's got the spirit. please take him in, he has nowhere else to go?

if you really look at the way Dabi uses his quirk until MVA, it's noticeable how he seems to have no idea what he is doing. there's no technique, no finesse to his moves, just throwing out huge blasts of fire with his hands and hoping for the threat to leave him alone.

when Shigaraki attacked him (fully provoked) his reaction was too slow to summon any flames at all, and if it weren't for Kurogiri, that would have been it for Dabi.

When he is fighting Geten and starts going beyond his limit, he scares himself with the increased fire output. because, yup, overusing his quirk by accident was the source of his trauma.

the databook puts his technique as the weakest of his stats. his power is huge and eventually allowed him to become the strongest fire quirk user in the BNHA universe, but his technique was extremely lacking.

all of the above just doesn't paint the picture of someone who has been consistently mastering his quirk for 7 years. rather, it gives the picture of someone who had just started using his quirk for the first time in years, having background training from his childhood.

it's not even that Dabi isn't hardworking as hell or doesn't have the potential to be trained, because he's a complete opposite. continuously going beyond his limit, despite his own body getting in his way, mastering Enji and Shouto's complicated techniques they have worked for weeks/months/years on in a matter of minutes after just observing it. surely, he has been watching Enji and learning the way his father uses his quirk for years, but putting theory to practice? i doubt he even had the chance, before joining LOV.

he had to wait, because starting to actively use his quirk sets the clock into motion, counting down the time he has left. he is like a candle, destroying himself with his fire, until nothing is left at all. he had to make sure his plan of revenge will have a chance to succeed before fully committing to the 'Dabi' route, a slow and agonizing process of cremating himself by continuously using his quirk. because when he really starts using his quirk for long stretches of time? this is what happens to him.

to conclude this post, I know why the final design was chosen (because it's cool as fuck) but after analyzing the crucial points of Touya's story and his relationship with his quirk, I really think him joining the League with post-coma design would have made more sense. once he had started really using his quirk, his body would slowly degrade to the state Dabi's was in, because his fire literally melts his skin. but his body already having 40% surface third degree burns, when he didn't even use his quirk the entire time, perfectly holding up up until the first war arc and then quickly starting to burn down? idk, seems a bit inconsistent?..

anyway, i love the concept of Dabi's skin slowly and inevitably burning down after he had joined the League. him losing more and more skin until there's barely anything left, when he reveals himself to his father and is bitter at the lack of recognition, because burning himself to the point of being unrecognizable was one of the many sacrifices he had made to be finally seen by Endeavor.

also, more of this. because this was bittersweet as hell

[weepingtalecowboy]

Fanfic prompt: the chain wants to make Wind have a childhood and because of that they enforce bed time

And wind instead of fighting them on their decision

Just agrees to go to sleep and at first they are nervous about him lying to them

And all stay at the tavern that night but no matter how much they checked

He didn’t sneak out nor did he wake up the entire time (he didn’t even flinch when someone tested if he was pretending)

Nothing happened the entire time and they checked on him and he truly seemed unconscious

So after a while the chain starts hanging out at pubs while one member stays behind in case of an emergency (usually legend or twilight because they don’t seem like the type to hang around public places for no reason )

Doing adult stuff (the good old life regretting decisions)

Like gambling

Drinking till they pass out

Playing cards

And more

What the chain didn’t know was that Wind was having bird adventures and committing crime (with seagull Marin and the occasional flock of other birds)

Because if you use hyoi pears you are unconscious

A perfect ability to get sleep and commit arson at once (and make people permanently afraid of gulls and birds of any kind)

The chain quickly became aware of a crazy seagull that was spotted stealing important documents and try to find it in case it was trained by a spy

(Legend was even more pissed at the fact that a seagull was used for the purpose of infiltrating a dangerous area)

And that is always an unpleasant experience because you have to be political about it for people (because spies can quickly derail into a full on war because of that they decide not to take Wind with them ( hypocritical because they let WILD and RULIE OF ALL PEOPLE WITH THEM )

Wind seemed unusually happy to not get to come with them and stay

And after seeing the gull behave more cautious and careful than before they took the mission

It only seems to confirm that the spy knows that they are looking

That is a dangerous situation for Hyrule

(Wind is just sending the others on a wild gull chase not realizing that he is about to start a war )

When the chain sees the gull get close to a tavern they are staying at they all freak out badly

Because that was the ONE day that they all had left together and wind is completely alone and a pretty easy target

Because how could they not notice that the spy would target the only person who was part of their group and by themselves a lot

After trapping the gull securely with a magic binding they find Wind not waking up anymore no matter what they do the gull just starts gulling more aggressively by laughing at them (wind is in hysteria because that was not at all what he wanted )

After leaving to figure out what it did to wind

They all start freaking out again because no matter how much they try (and hyrule tries a lot ) wind isn’t waking up anymore

And even the lens of truth show that wind is missing his literal soul

What kind of monster are they dealing with

Wind also starts freaking out because he just realized that he can’t get back to his body and that he is trapped in a bird cage

The whole thing only escalates further when he escapes and snatches Wild‘s slate trying to communicate but instead accidentally bombs a warehouse with important items in it

[minziemoon]

Life Series Rare Pairs I Wanna See More Of

Inspired by everyone else on my tl posting their dream team lineups for a life series season, I decided to do my own by thinking of the most random combinations I can imagine that would be entertaining to witness. Some of these are gonna be more detailed, some are just for vibes, and some for shits and giggles. Also I haven't watched every single pov of every single series, and I have the memory of a goldfish sometimes, so forgive me if these aren't all THAT rare. 🙏

1. Cleo + Jimmy

- This duo materialized itself in my brain after a random wild life episode from Jimmy's pov where he had a near death experience and ran to Cleo for comfort. It's occupied a lil corner of my brain ever since.

- I think Jimmy would really benefit from someone like Cleo on his side. Someone who you know you can rely on and come back to whenever you're in need of help. Unless you betray them, Cleo is such a good teammate and has a mom/older sibling feeling to her.

- I can imagine she'd spend half the season convincing Jimmy not to go poking fun at ppl and making enemies, only for her to snap once someone kills her unjustly and goes on to commit arson apon half the server. Then the roles would switch.

2. Gem + BigB

- The difference between Cleo and Jimmy's paragraphs to these two... I told yall some of them are just fueled by the potential of vibes.

- I have no clue how these two would function together. They barely even interact. But that's exactly why I want them together!!!

- I feel like they'd be really wholesome. Knowing Gem she'd bring out the best in him... but I also feel like B would once again betray or back stab her in some way. Either way I've become too curious and invested now.

3. Grian + Pearl

- The fact that the skyblings themselves are a rare pair nowadays is concerning. They don't interact NEARLY enough. The amount of wasted potential is to cry about.

- I feel like they'd be all up in other ppl's business. If Pearl were to turn red before Grian, I think he'd have the same dynamic with her like with red lifer Scar in 3rd life, supporting and encouraging her crimes from afar, really birthing another menace on the server.

- They'd have the time of their lives while red together and I'd be SEATED.

4. Mumbo + Tango

- One episode they're the most miserable wet cats on the map, the next their trap kills half the server. Their fate as a duo would be a gamble.

- Idk if their combined brain power would cancel each other out or multiple. Most likely cancel out. Because putting an uncontrolable nervous wreck with the ticking timebomb of unhingness CAN NOT turn out positive.

- Still, it would be SO entertaining and probably make for funny quotes.

5. Lizzie + Bdubs

- It felt like my brain glitched a lil when remembering these two.

- I feel like they'd be weirdly wholesome?? Like they wouldn't stress each other out. Maybe Bdubs' vocal coards could finally catch a break from yelling every episode. Also lowkey feel like he'd try his best to protect her.

- Pls Watchers, let them build some cute cotteges in the woods somewhere in peace 🙏

6. Ren + Scar

- Ik they aren't THAT rare to see together, but the fact that they've never been close to teaming before is astonishing to me.

- If Scar doesn't turn Ren's thing with Martyn into a love triangle by the end of the season, no one else ever will. The Red Winter would rise once again, but with two kings this time.

- I just wanna see theater kids have fun, okay? Sue me if you must. Martyn can join in too I would not mind in the slightest.

[justporo]

Hi sweetheart if your request is open I want to request a nsfw and or sfw alphabet for Astarion 🥰

Hello my sweet, Anon, and thank you! Oh exciting, I like these, so I'm happy someone asked me to do this. This will be SFW but maybe I'll do a NSFW version too - if people want it?

I used this wonderful template by @the-coldest-goodbye (thank you for making this!)

Also let's call this

Fluffy relationship headcanons about Astarion and Tav (in alphabetic order)

(Because I know the word headcanon is somewhat of a Pavlov'sch bell for some people here, hihi~)

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Very much so. Once Astarion really grabs onto the concept of having someone he deeply and truly loves, he tells them every moment of every day. He compliments them, showers them in gifts, his flirtatious behaviour never stops. But oh yeah, they also bicker like an old married couple - it's their love language.

Also he’s very keen to keep his hands on you, PDA: oh hells yeah, showing the whole world you belong to him, also you’re just that yummy.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Pure chaotic goblin energy. If you’re best friends with Astarion you’re most likely enabling each other to commit arson on a daily basis – and you love it.

You most likely stumbled over each other, each thought “what a dickhead, looks so dumb…”, figured you were equally sassy and were inseparable from there on out. Because the best friendships start with thinking “ugh, this dumb idiot…”

Also being in a relationship with Astarion means also being his best friend and having chaotic gremlin moments – like for example grouping up on Gale to shittalk him.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Cuddling is a kind of unusual concept for Astarion at first, like with any kind of non-sexual intimacy. But he very quickly figures out he loves cuddling. Just normal hugging, holding you standing behind you with his arms around your waist. But he also enjoys it so so much when he’s being held, just knowing your arms are his safe haven.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Honestly, after everything? Yes – at least for quite some time I guess Astarion wants to settle down, have some time to figure himself out but also enjoying some mundance peace and quiet with Tav – with the biggest worry being what he’ll wear this night.

He’s shit tho at all the domestic shit. He doesn’t know how to cook or anything else and frankly he has never needed to because even before being turned he lived the comfortable live of a noble. Tav’s going to have to teach him a thing or two on how not to be so messy…

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Despite that I am 1000% convinced that Tav and Astarion are endgame… Quickly, I believe, like ripping a bandaid off, but making sure to really get the point across on why.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

The idea of commitment might scare Astarion, the idea of having Tav forever does not. So I guess he would actually come around to the idea although you both assure each other it’s not to prove something. Also Astarion does joke about it – because he loves thinking about it, to have someone who’s loving him until the end of time.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

So gentle, almost chaste, especially at first. Yeah yeah, he knows every trick in the book when it comes to sex, but exploring what a committed relationship can feel like? Sharing small moments of intimacy, opening up his feelings that he never really allowed himself to have before.

That being said I believe the first time Tav and Astarion sleep with each other after he’s freed: it’s like it’s his first time, fully there, bravely letting himself fall into your open loving arms, experiencing for the first time what it means to be this kind of intimate with someone you love more than anything else in this world.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Something he also didn’t really quite get until he shared it with Tav – and then the other ones who became his friends. He relishes hugs as something that really make him feel at peace. And he does become a hugger, at least with Tav: small, quick hugs to full-blown embraces – although these are something he likes to enjoy only with you. Oh, and they’re wonderful hugs: not too strong, not too weak, although Astarion might be a bit of a clinger, especially in the beginning, when he can never get enough.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Tav says it first, but he’s pretty brave and pretty sure about his feelings (at least about how hard he’s fallen once he accepts the initial fact), so pretty quickly. And after that: AT. ANY. POSSIBLE. MOMENT.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Jealous, but reasonably so. Like he can obviously differentiate if you’re just friends with someone or if it might even just be flirty banter (because he’s also guilty as charges with that) but someone hits on you, you’re definitely not interested, the other person keeps pushing? He’ll be ready to rip their throat out. He gets protective. This being said, his jealousy is always focused on the other party pushing a toe out of line, not you.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Everything? Everywhere? All at once?

Of course his kisses are perfect, he likes to kiss every inch of your body and loves when you repay him for that in like. Although like with other intimate moments it’s still something new to him because there are a lot of feelings in it now.

Also Astarion and Tav love to annoy each other with giving each other big wet smooches when the other person is being annoying or just needs a lip-smacking reminder of affection.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

“You’re so gross, Astarion.”

“Why is cute, when Scratch does it, but not when I do it?”

“BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT A DOG, ASTARION!”

“I mean I could bark if you wanted me to.”

Children can be annoying them because “ugh, why are they so loud and smelly… and sticky” but Astarion loves the chaotic energy kids have. And if the other companion’s would ever bring kids over he would absolutely incite them to cause chaos all around, teach them naughty words, give them candy so they get a sugar rush when they should actually go to bed.

And Astarion is good at telling kids captivating stories, so he becomes the resident storyteller when friends with kids come visit.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) (or in his case evenings, I figure)

Slow, full of cuddles and “five more minutes, my love, please” – basically he loves to just hang around with you in bed. He also takes his sweet time getting ready after waking up – A) because he can B) “when you look this good…”; once he figures out what Tav’s favourite hot beverage is in the morning, he’d learn how to brew it perfectly and bring it to them when he’s feeling generous.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) (and here days, accordingly)

Even more cuddles, talking before bed, talking after going to bed, probably having lots of wine while doing so – or just lounging around reading with his head in your lap while you detangle his soft curls.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Slowly at first but then more and more. But there’s just as much for him to unpack as there is for you to learn and take in. But Astarion learns quickly that you’re a good person to open up to: he feels safe and seen with you. And even if it doesn’t fix all his trauma right away – telling you, it really helps.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Astarion has more than a bit of temper. He can get very easily annoyed especially by little, seemingly unimportant things. He can snap at you but he tries to take a quick breather then and work through it and apologises – even though this too is something he learns slowly.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

I think he memorizes a lot about everyone anyway, because it’s a survival instinct to gather all possible information that might become helpful. But besides that: once Astarion is all aboard the relationship train, he will absolutely remember everything – probably even better than you. That’s also why he gets you the best gifts, because he listens, when you tell him something that you would like.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

He holds the memory of this first special hug very close and dear in his heart. Because he remembers how incredibly frightened he was how scary that leap was. But there you were quite literally with open arms and an open heart.

But there’s lots more moments. When you bought the house in Baldur’s Gate and he could carry you inside the first time cheekily in bridal style? The first gift you ever gave him for your first anniversary? There’sso many and he collects them like precious little treasures.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Very, oh he’s so very protective. And he will cut someone if the need arises. He might actually even be a bit too eager about it. And he likes when you’re protective of him as well – and let’s be honest you’re just as eager to keep him safe.

Nobody touches you or him – or they get the sharp end of a knife.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Everyday stuff, oh eeeeh, it’s hard. Astarion is just so not used to it, but he tries. He really does. And gifts, dates and all? Firstly, he finds out that he’s very much a romantic. Secondly, this man does not do things like this lightly, because “if we were going to be basic about it, we don’t have to do it at all”.

And he regularly outdoes himself trying to spoil you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

As much as he tries to be open and learn. The habits of 200 years die hard. Sometimes when he feels backed into a corner he snaps and he can be very much hurtful. And as much as you want to pretend you rationally know it better, you do get angry sometimes, you do feel hurt. And you do have fights.

But at latest when tempers are cooled again, you always get back around to talking it through and learning something from it. The two of you never go to bed angry with each other – that’s an unspoken agreement.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Astarion deeply is a creature of vanity. He cares about his looks almost as much as he cares about Tav. And it can annoying, but then again: he deserves to treat himself and he deserves all the swooning and pining and compliment you can give him – and you happily supply.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Let me cite a fic of mine and although Tav says it, Astarion feels very much the same:

“I love you so much, I would give up everything for you, if only it meant I could still be with you. I would burn this whole world down if it meant, I could keep you safe. I would walk with you to the end of the universe if it was what you needed to be happy. And if I ever where to leave this earthly world behind, I believe my soul would find you again – and again and again – because I’m half and only ever whole with you.”

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

It’s hard to say that he has no regrets. And surely Astarion would never want to go through all his trauma again, but yet… in the end he met you, didn’t he?

In the end he found you and you became his light.

Sometimes he thinks about that as you lay beside him dreaming. He softly moves a strand of hair out of your closed eyes and thanks whatever God has sent you his way

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Plainly, if they saw him in a way like probably everyone did for the past two centuries and if he felt used by them. But you’re you and would never do that.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He doesn’t know it but he tends to be a clinger when he’s in his dreamful trance. And maybe this is only a thing he developed since the two of you have been together, but he sometimes wakes you because in his sleep he pulls you to him so you’re left with nothing but snuggling up to him – becoming his life size teddy bear.

You’d never have it any other way!

(Also sorry for swinging between Tav/you - I'm just so used to 2nd person perspective while writing, oops)

[starchaserwrites]

@jegulus-microfic / february 21: attack / word count: 641 cw: slight nsfw

The moment Sirius hears a stressed Regulus on the other end of the phone, he knows something is wrong. His usually cool and calm younger brother has almost given him a heart attack by asking him, in a tense and overwhelmed voice he has rarely heard before, to get to the hospital as soon as possible, along with the insistent sound of an ambulance siren. When he tries to get more details, he just tells him that he'll explain everything when he gets there and that everything's fine. Oh, and to bring Remus with him.

As he explains the situation to Moony, who has been looking at him expectantly throughout the phone conversation, worry creeps into his face. 

"Let's go now, I'll drive," is all Remus says as he gets up and grabs his keys.

As soon as they pull into the hospital's car park, Remus's phone rings with a message notification, which he pauses to read for a moment. The cackle of laughter he emits leaves Sirius completely baffled.

"What's going on?" Sirius tries to ask, but the taller one has trouble controlling his breathing in the middle of a fit of giggles. "Remus Lupin, my baby brother could be dying in there and you're laughing your ass off in here?"

"Trust me, he's not the one who's going to die!" he replies, when he manages to regain some composure.

"What do you mean?"

"My love, I need you to stay calm, okay?" the taller one asks, grabbing him by the shoulders. "I can assure you Regulus is fine, I promise, but I'm going to let him explain to you the reason we're here."

"He told you and not me?" Remus simply nods.

"Are our parents hospitalised?"

"I wish, but no."

After another failed attempt to get more information, they both meet Regulus in the waiting room.

"James Potter's family?" a nurse asks before Sirius can even ask what's going on. "He's stable now, you can come in and see him." 

James?

Still disoriented and once inside the hospital ward, Sirius can name four things he doesn't quite understand. The first is why James and Regulus (who seem to hate each other) are here together, the second is why everyone except Remus, who looks rather amused, is avoiding eye contact, the third is why his best friend is wearing a neck brace, and the fourth is why his younger brother, who knows nothing about soccer, seems to be wearing a rather familiar Arsenal jersey that barely covers the bruises on his neck. Wait, bruises?

"If someone doesn't explain to me what's going on in the next five seconds, I'm going to commit arson."

"I broke James' neck," says Regulus, while at the same time James exclaims, "I fell down the stairs. Remus laughs and Sirius finally understands what's going on.

"Enough! I see what's happening. Guys, I told you not to fight over me, you both have my affection eq—"

"I sat on his face, broke his neck and he passed out." Regulus interrupts.

The room falls silent.

"Why didn't you stop him, James?"

"Sirius..."

"It was an accident, right?" asks Sirius looking at them all, "Right, Prongs?"

"We've been together for four months."

"'You brotherfuck—"

And Sirius lunges at James attempting to throttle him.

And the thing is, he's happy for them, he really is, but he's angry that the two bastards made him believe all this time that they hated each other, so he had to keep making separate plans to prevent them from killing each other.

For all the weeks James has to wear the neck brace, Sirius avoids eye contact with him so he won't remember why he has to wear it. This proves to be difficult as his best friend in the world tells everyone about the reason as if it were some heroic feat.

[strawberymilku]

Playing Dangerous

featuring: Police!Leone Abbacchio x Fem!Reader

genres: nsfw!, crimes, mention of: thugs, arson, mafia, car sex, oral sex, blowjob, dirtytalk, one night stand, fingering, doggy style, praises, police theme, corrupt, minor gunplay

a/n: i was rewatching jojo, and ive been wanting to write a police smut with lana del rey lyrics as prompt, and my bf wnted to collab so i just had to write it. not proofread yet. might do part 2 for it. word: 4k, a bit long but it was worth it.

The woman was speeding for sure, but Abbacchio could doubt if she was the witness or the culprit for committing arson, Abbacchio heard the sound of the motorcycle approaching, and he turned to face the direction in which it was coming. It was heading straight in his direction-? He wasn't sure if the person on the bike was who he suspected it to be, but he raised his revolver as the bike came closer..it certainly looked suspicious...

"Why you?!" she yelled, cursing, he was brave enough that he did not care if he died to get her, pulling him on the side of the motorbike, with a swift dash, saving his life as he was at the back of her motorbike. It was the work of the Stand for sure, but sadly the man couldn’t see Stands like that yet but just felt someone lift him on her motorbike. That certainly caught him off guard. Was she just riding directly into him? The situation was unclear...Was she trying to run him over? To escape-? He was surprised at how quickly she acted. He could have been killed if it hadn't been for her, which meant..she couldn't be the arsonist, but she still looked suspicious..and yet she saved his life... Yet her actions are justified yet "Kill me later, what is wrong with you, you would be run across in my wheels," she had a gangly Italian accent, still on the motorbike with huge speed. "Am I getting a ticket for speeding too?" she said sarcastically. He looked at her back where a group of thugs were still chasing over her. Leone had a stunned look on his face. She was certainly lively, and rather..crude. He certainly wasn't expecting that attitude from a potential arsonist, but for some odd reason he didn't feel threatened by her- in fact, he was rather intrigued- she hadn't even noticed his police uniform. After a few moments of stunned silence, he finally replied

"Ah...I'm a police officer. But I can't just let anyone ride at such high speeds..why are you speeding away from people?" "They are after me, whaddya think," she went into different roads taking a lot of turns as the gang lost track of her, after minutes of having the stranger at the back, they stopped in a random alleyway, with a big sigh, she realized it was the cop, not that she’s afraid of him anyways. "It's my job to keep the streets safe and look out for suspicious behaviour- like someone on a motorcycle riding at dangerously high speeds in a residential area."

The suspicious behaviour mentioned included the arson incident at the local gas station that happened not a day ago. Although he didn't outright believe her, he decided to look into her claim. For now, he'd only ask questions to get a grip on the situation.

"May I ask what you were doing around that area where the suspected arson took place?"

"Arson? You think I'd commit arson-" Her lighter got pulled from her pocket, he was daring enough to get that from her leather jacket. "No, please, I'm a smoker," she pulled out her cigarettes to counter his proof. The policeman took a second to think. It would be highly unusual for someone to commit a criminal offense like arson just to cover up smoking. At the same time, he had no evidence proving her guilty yet. He decided to ask another more personal question.*  

"Why were they on your tail to begin with? Do you know why these gang members were after you?" That was a sensitive topic for a mafia’s daughter, no way she could leak her identity out like that. "Yes I do, I have my own reasons, which place was getting burned again?" she tilted her head, as she was demanded to show her license, but she looked reluctant to show it.

 There was still the issue of the gang members after her that he had to inquire about.

"The Shell station at the corner of Via Maddaloni and Via Caracciolo."

"I was at a Hilton Hotel I swear, you can get the evidence," she raised her arms, showing everything from her pocket. Everything seemed suspicious to Abbacchio, no way he could get information out of her mouth like that, so the best way was to flip her body quickly, putting her hands at his back as he slapped the metal handcuffs on her wrists, locking it. He was unsure why he did that but he believed this was the best way. She sighed, "My dad will be killing me if he finds out I’m going to be late,” it was too much for just speeding up in a motorbike.

He couldn’t help but raise a small smirk. Her hands being cuffed behind her back gave him a fair idea of what he could do to her.

"I suppose you aren't very much of a good girl?"

*"Everybody knows that I'm a good girl, officer,"* she replied still with her hands on her back as she was forced to walk back to where his car was. He let out a small laugh. It was rather amusing how easily she was acting so calm over being handcuffed and detained. Even if this incident would end up being a dead end for the arson case, he was still curious. She was just detained for being a suspect, just yet. Things are getting exciting.

"And exactly what is your name, miss?" 

“Y/N,” she grunted still feeling her wrist already from the handcuffs. “Well then Y/N, too bad, you will be a warrant for, ‘reckless driving, running through stop signs, driving at dangerously high speeds, running through red lights- and for suspicion of arson. You have the right to remain silent,” he said in a stern tone, he couldn’t help but smile at her rolling her eyes. *"No, I wouldn't do a thing like that, that's for sure,"* she tried to pout her lips to use a charm on him, thinking he would let her go this time.

Abbacchio's smirk grew wider, as he tried not to laugh at her attempt at seduction.

"I don't think a pout will suffice for an excuse in court."

Her attitude was amusing he thought. Usually, people would be acting aggressively, but she seemed to have accepted the situation quite easily.

"Ah yeah, my dad told me not to talk to the police, because I can demand rights for a lawyer," she tried to rethink again, trying to stay silent as they slowly walked back to his car. She had the attitude of a spoiled teenager, but he couldn't help but be amused. Usually, people would be threatening legal action, not talking about their parents, but she was a different case.

"Your father told you not to talk to the police..? Is he one of those who would try to bribe officers to avoid arrest?"

"Oh really, does he?" she grinned, still using her legs to take sweet sweet time back to the car, it was taking so long than usual just to stall time as much as she could. She was certainly being flirty for someone who had just been arrested.

"If you're expecting me to be charmed you certainly have a poor way of showing it."

Though she certainly was charming..but he'd rather stay professional at the moment. He’s a committed policeman after all. "Am I going to jail for this?" her shoulders slouched at him trying to repeat what she committed as if he were his mom. “Like, *the house is already on fire right, I swear I’m not a liar,*” she added to him to second guess his decisions.

Abbacchio gave her a skeptical look. She definitely wasn't being completely honest. But what she said about the house being on fire definitely seemed more believable than her being the arsonist. It seemed like these gang members came after her for something else. He decided to ask just to confirm his suspicions.

“I’m not asking about the arson crime, I’m asking how are you related to those thugs, it’s very dangerous you know,” he tried to squeeze more questions to get more information out of her.

The girl didn’t reply, it was indeed a chilly night, her lips were quivering from the cold, even if she had the leather jacket on her. “Are you cold?” he asked with concern in his eyes, his hands on her handcuffs, yet pulling her close to him, trying to walk back where he came from.

*“Well, I'm a little shaken, but I'm fine, thanks for asking.”* she smiled at him to look up at him with her eye smile.

"Did you owe them money? Did you have their illegal drugs? What's your ties to these gang members?" "Tell me do you always work so late?" she didn't answer his question, as she had the right not to though. She was very charming, but also very stubborn- he almost found it admirable. Maybe he should've taken her up on her earlier offer of charm. She seemed very confident in her ability to seduce him. It could be the right moment to give in to temptation.

"It's my job to watch the late night shift, what does my work schedule have to do with your involvement with gangs?"

*"Do you really have to put those tight handcuffs on?"* she tried to pull it out but it was not to avail. Still, she didn’t give up yet to flirt with him. Abbacchio gave her a small laugh at the girl, this was the moment for which he was hoping. That is, she was very much starting to flirt with him- so now was the perfect time to reciprocate. 

"Are you sure you're not trying to get me to take the cuffs off?"   

It might just be wishful thinking, but it certainly looked like she was trying to flirt. He was hoping for it anyway, and now she had given him the right opportunity by attempting to pull her cuffs off... But he must stay professional right?

*"Let's get in the back of your cop car, officer?"* she asked a question, still finding ways to flirt with him last minute possible. Finally, they arrived at the car that had printed ‘Polizia’ on it. “Playtime is over, get in the car,” he tried to stay in a demanding tone. The ‘officer’ word did get the man inhaled deeply, oh the things he could do with her right now, as he placed her in the backseat of the car, respectfully, restraining himself from touching her. He’s a good policeman, he couldn’t be doing that. *"You can ask me anything you want, anything, like anything,"* she smiled as he slowly fell for her trap, he decided to sit in the backseat, for a while, closing the car door behind him, and locking it, giving her a dirty smirk. Abbacchio chuckled and shook his head at her flirtatious comments, yet he also realized just how tempting the situation was.

"Anything, hmm?"

He thought for a bit. His mind started to wonder as he looked down at her. She was very appealing.

"What would you do, if I decided to uncuff you- right now?" "I don't know, officer," she looked at his lips then back to him. "You do like purple lipstick, don't you, what is it? Givenchy brand?" she joked, in between, giving a mysterious appeal to the policeman wanting to give in to his desires.

"Good guess. Though I may need more than just your beauty alone to convince me."

"Like what, officer?" she leaned closer towards his neck, it was rather a risqué attempt, she was down to play with fire too, from the looks in his eyes. Leone bit his lip slightly but he still tried to hold back, he wanted to stay professional and focused. But his heart couldn't help but race as she got close. He wondered how this would end...if there was a way he could fall for the trap.

The smell of her perfume hit his nose making it that much harder to focus. He was very tempted. She seemed to have been waiting for him to reply for a minute now. *"Do you have a girl? I don't see a ring on your finger?"* she'd be the one asking questions here instead, how the tables have turned, touching his chest on his police uniform, with her fingertips. This made him raise an eyebrow, the question she had just asked was a little unexpected. Though given he was staring directly at her lips he couldn't deny that he was rather tempted to take it as a sign. But he decided to answer nonetheless.

"I don't have a girlfriend..not at the moment anyway." "*Well that's interesting, have you thought of dating a* **mafia's daughter?**" she replied, dropping the biggest hint of all time, until he realized, no wonder why the gang was after her. He should let her go right? The thought of having her as a girlfriend was still tempting..her attractiveness, her flirtatious attitude, it was too much to ignore.

"Are you offering?" "Maybe I am, offering you a taste?" she leaned closer towards him slowly. It was obvious, that she a tease, still not kissing him, just yet, but their faces were just inches apart. Abbacchio held his breath. Her words were tempting, her attitude was tempting..and her lips were certainly tempting- all she had to do was just close the space between them and they'd be locked in a passionate kiss...

He felt like he might die if he didn't go through with their kiss. He wanted to play her game and play it perfectly. Her words had been tempting since she said them and he could only answer with one answer. 

Abbacchio took in a deep breath and nodded his head. **The flames are getting higher, and so is his desire. It's kind of exciting, don't you think?

"Am I playing a dangerous game, officer?" she teased, still not kissing him, just yet, she wanted to see how far this would go.

The policeman was gritting his teeth in anticipation. It was a dangerous game she was playing, and he knew he shouldn't play it. She was involved with the mafia after all. But the temptation was too much to pass up. He had to do it. The smell of her perfume still lingered, making it much more inviting.

"It's a very dangerous game." 

Abbacchio finally caved in. He knew he couldn't control himself anymore. He closed the distance and pulled her towards him, giving in their passionate kiss. She crashed on her lips softly, melting right down on this gothic policeman, without shame, he was worth a one-night stand, but she didn't really care, their kisses became hotter and hotter each second, he gripped her body, forcing her onto his thighs, looking up at her. Their kiss has started to deepen. His lips brushed against hers as he pulled her even closer. This girl..she was too irresistible. Her flirting and teasing, even the danger of her being involved with the mafia. He just wanted more. She touched his badge and looked up at him. "Abbacchio was it?" she kissed him once more, not enough of his kisses, at this point the purple lipstick has been worn off at this point, some even staining her lips.

"That is my name, yes." "So officer~" the way she said was so enticing, 

"What am I supposed to do now?" she felt his hands roaming all across her body, as if he owned her right here, no tonight, he could do whatever he wanted for tonight. 

"Will I be forgiven for this, officer?" she was like a crime he must commit just for tonight, a sin he wouldn't regret doing, for sure.

"I guess I'll have to figure out how to punish you for this..for now though, I'm sure you don't mind my hands on your body, hmm?"

His smile was quite teasing too and even though he was trying to appear professional, it was clear he was enjoying this quite a lot. He leaned back in and began kissing her again. He gave her a look that told her he was enjoying this as his hands stayed firmly on her hips. “Let’s make this exciting for the both of us,” he pulled out his revolver from his waistband, pointing at her head. He must tried it out at least, he needed to have the upper hand as well. "Officer, I will do anything to repent," her words were dripping as if it was made of honey, she wasn’t even fazed the gun barrel was pointed at her head, biting her lips. Things have gotten out of hand. "You will, will you?" he grinned of mischievous how he liked her under his power.

"How about you tell me what you'd do to repent- and I'll think about it and see if it's enough of a punishment for you." "First, I'd unbuckled that belt of yours and..." her eyes trailed downwards at the seat at the bulge forming in his navy blue pants and up to his golden purple eyes, that would be enough for his imagination to do the rest of the work. “Okay then, get to work, don’t just be an all talk,” he pressed the revolver harder on her skin, geez this man was full of sass, which made her actually take off his pants, obeying his orders, just as he wanted her to. "Oh, please don't shoot me yet, Mr Polizia, I will be good," she unravelled his hard cock from his underwear, palming it between her small hands trying to please him, her handcuffs were still on.

"So you'll be a better girl if I don't shoot you?"

He looked down at her with a teasing and tempting look, she was really quite the girl. This was the most teasing, dangerous girl he had ever come across on the job. “You know your small hands aren’t in good use, use your mouth,” he demanded, pointing the gun directly at her and even though he wasn't gonna shoot, she could clearly see the barrel against her. He looked at her with a teasing grin. She looked so pretty under him, and all the power he had on her. She nodded at his orders, bending down, licking his wet tip for a while, which made him have a satisfying moan, his impulse made him push his right hand on her head, pushing her mouth closely for the blowjob. His breath was shaky already as he felt every part of her mouth on his dick, he felt as if he was on cloud nine, it was all worth it. Worth it from a tiring shift, she was trying to suck him good, she looked like she was an expert at this, feeling his tip pushed against her throat, she was trying to be his only little good girl, a good girl just for Mr Policeman right here. Oh, how he’d wish he could possibly want her every night. Her mouth was starting to tire her, as all her saliva was all around his base, “Abbacchio, sir, are you satisfied yet?” she looked up at him for his mercy, for his approval, for his attention, with those orbs. “Not yet, I wanted to cum on your face,” he pointed the gun at her, demanding to resume her lips to work again. Her head bobbed again and again, trying to please him as much as she could, deepthroating him, her tongue twirling on his length. She liked how much vocal he was, praising her, for her good use of the mouth.

“My god, you weren’t lying when you said you will have your mouth in good use,” that was the best blowjob he received in his life so far, feeling every orgasm trying to rip from his heated skin. After minutes of torturing her throat, he finally gave in, painting on her face with his white liquids, with a satisfied smug face. “Uh, uh, uh, mi amore,” he had a menaced look over her with a tsk, “Who said I was done with you?” for a policeman like him, having stamina could be true. He bent her over, his gun still pointing at her. The time to show who is the monster here, not giving her a break.

“Look here, girl, *if you can't stand the heat. Then stay out of the fire,*” he groped all over breasts, throwing the gun away on the floor of the car. She happened to listen all to his command, like a good little girl, he pulled down her bottom clothing, his fingers trying to play her folds through her underwear, trying to tease her. “Oh, your cunt is wet here, *you might get what you desire*,” he put the underwear aside, rubbing on her clit, trying to gain some moans from her. Things are starting to get interesting. “I’m not putting on anything, yeah, just to warn you,” his cock tried to get between her wet folds, just like that. “I-uh, policia, please don’t you have a condom-” her mouth was shoved with the finger he got her pussy juices on. “Lick it up,” she couldn’t deny such requests from the hot officer, licking it, while he kept pounding her behind her back. Not enough, he needed to feel every wall of her just like that. “I’m going raw, so shut your pretty mouth like that,” He had an enormous speed, gripping her waist, her arms against the tinted glass, the car starting to fog up from the movements, “Listen here, little girl, and listen good,” he raised her body good, her boobs all over the window glass at this point, she screamed more as her G spot has been getting all this abuse from the sudden position.

“Please, please, have mercy on me, officer-” her words were cut as he pushed his fingers in her throat, attempting to shut her mouth. This man is indeed wild, the luckiest night for a girl like her. **”Even if you scream, or beg me to stop, or have mercy, I’m not stopping,”** he rutted inside her cunt as if it was meant to be shaped by his large cock.

“Not until I’m satisfied,” he hummed, using it as if she was a toy she was made just for him to fuck her. Her cries and moans filled the whole street, think to their luck no one was in the streets, a few maybe. Do you this man cares? No? **“Not like you can stop me anyways, hmm?”** he didn’t stop his thrusts, her pussy aching from all the movements, their moans were in unison. She was already tired at this point, getting the slaps on her buttocks, his hand making her chin move just to kiss him as he kept railing behind her back, his lusts and desires being fulfilled by this one girl. “If you keep doing like that, I might-” she panted for air, she needed for a moment there, “I might, cum~” her body squealed in pleasure, holding all her sanity.

It was prolonged sex for sure, he finally had to urge to orgasm, he pulled out in time, cumming all over her body, she really looked pretty as if he was the artist, painting more cum on the belly. “Know your place, just like that,” he looked coldly into her eyes, he didn’t have time for this right? The aftercare was little, he threw her tissues and a bottle of water he had in the car, putting on his clothes, he did let her go this time, unlocking her sore wrists, and going back to his driver seat. 

He did drove her back to her motorbike was at, even opening the door for her to get out, after minutes of silence, he kissed her forehead softly, like a gentleman would, before he finally let her go. But one thing for sure is that it was one of the best nights he’d ever had with a girl. A sucker for romance, *lovin’ a hurricane*

part 2?