#i am not at all saying we should just leave bodies in the streets lol but like. i wish it was still commonplace to Care for the body in the

[nomaishuttle]

sry 4 being a girl with a special interest in death I just think maybe everybody should have more healthy exposure to death and maybe then wed all be a lot more normal about everything

[hadersversion]

‘tis the damn season.

“so we could call it even, you could call me babe for the weekend.”

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue! reader

warnings: 18+, SMUT, p in v, fingering, begging, overstimulation, use of babe....let me know if i forget anything lol. ALSO in some places in america, thansgiving eve is literally just a holiday to get drunk in your hometown

your home for the holidays for the first time in years. you've been avoiding rafe, the reason you've been away for so long, but after seeing him again all the old feelings come back. when rafe sends a text one night, you end up in the back of his truck like old times.

i parked my car out front of my childhood home, staring at the old exterior.

somethings never change.

being back in the outer banks felt strange. it has been a while since i have been back, avoiding come home for as long as i can. but with a few begging phone calls from my mom and kiara, here i am.

i knock on my front door and am greeted with a bright smile.

"jj?" i ask, confused.

"welcome home, stranger." he says, with a hug and grabbing my bag.

i walk into my living room and see the pogues, sitting with my mom. a homemade 'welcome home' banner hanging above their heads.

my mom comes over and gives me a big hug. "i thought i would never see this face again." she says with a squeeze.

"boston isn't that far, mom." i tell her but i know she would never leave the outer banks. never in a million years. i turn towards the others and smile. "i wonder who could've put this together?" i say, looking at kiara.

"hey it wasn't all me, pope was the one who brought it up." she says, engulfing me in her arms.

"guilty." pope chimes in, joining the hug. i feel jj and john b join in as well. my family.

we break away and hang out in the living room, catching up.

"don't tell me you went all city on us, y/n." john b pokes fun at me.

"not completely. but it is nice having more things to do than hang on the beach and smoke." i wink.

"who could want more than that?" jj asks, making us all laugh.

"speaking of," kiara starts. "there's a little thanksgiving eve celebration happening at the wreck. just some people from high school. nothing big."

"just a chance to get drunk of our asses and go to dinner the next day hungover." jj says, causing kiara to nudge him.

"what do you say? want to join us?" i look around the room at my friends, all eager waiting for my response. with a sigh, i nod and they all cheer. "thank god, i don't think i could've done that alone."

i smile and nod. it should be fun, it will be. but my brain can't help to wonder if the one person who's kept me away from coming home will be there. no, he wouldn't. not with the pogues. but a part of me can't help but hope to see his face.

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i fix my sweater in the mirror in my room, my body fidgeting from anxiety. it's been a few days and i still can't shake that feeling from my body about being home. sure, i'm happy but this place holds so many memories. memories i wish to bury. i stare at the photo booth picture tucked into my mirror of him and i. i guess i forgot to hide this with the rest of the stuff. i take it off the mirror and sigh, examining it.

almost four years since it was taken. almost four years since we called it quits. and yet, he still haunts my memories. his presence making itself known through cheap beer at the bar, expensive men's cologne at the mall, exhaust that leaves motorbikes as they ride down the street. he's always there, whether i like it or not.

the sound of a horn breaks me free of my thoughts.

"y/n, they're here!" my mom calls from downstairs.

"coming!" i open my dresser drawer and slip the photo in before racing downstairs. i kiss my mom on the cheek and slip out the door, rushing into the van.

"ready to get fucked up?" jj asks with his devilish smirk.

i roll my eyes and laugh. "let's go."

we pull up to the wreck, it's already dark outside and a slight breeze fills the air. we all hurry in, greeted by familiar faces. my name is called from every direction, old friends from high school or the beach. all my fellow pogues who i know and love. when i'm done making my rounds, i head over to our table. everyone has some drink in their hand, beer or cocktail, and they all smile up at me.

"who would've though little y/n y/l/n would be a pogue celebrity?" pope jokes.

i flip him off and slide in next to john b. kiara hands me a beer and i take a sip. "i'm not a celebrity, i'm just one of the only people from this island who actually made it off."

they all make jokes at my despair, teasing me in any way they could when sarah walks up. i feel my stomach flip and i smile at her. "y/n!" she embraces me. "i'm so happy to see you!"

i hug her back and smile. "me too, sar. how's everything been?"

"the usual but i can't complain." she sits next to me and lays her head on my shoulder. "it's been forever."

"it has." i sigh. "it really has."

we all share stories and laugh around the table. we take shots, chug beer, and play different drinking games. just like old times sake.

"i need another beer." i say with a slight slur in my voice, standing up. "anyone else?" everyone shakes their head as i excuse myself.

i walk up to the bar and wait my turn, twirling my debit card in my hand. it could be the alcohol but i feel content and happy to be home.

"y/n?"

until that moment.

i don't want to turn around, i don't even want to accept my fate in this situation.

i know that voice, i could recognize it in a crowd of millions of people. it was the voice that lingered in my dreams, my thoughts.

i turn around and look at the man.

"rafe."

he looks older, his hair buzzed and some facial hair covering his face. but those eyes. they are the same eyes of the boy i loved.

we stood there, not saying a word. just taking the sight of one another in.

"i didn't know you were home." he says, not breaking eye contact.

i nod, biting my lip. "i am, i got home monday."

he chuckles to himself and shakes his head. "how long you here for?"

"till saturday. then i'm going back to boston." my throat feels scratchy and my face is on fire. i want to be anywhere but here now.

his eyes continue to study me. "two more budweiser's, please." he says to the bartender. i open my mouth to protest but he shakes his head. "on me, think of it as a welcome home gift."

the bartender hands me the beer and i smile. i turn back to rafe and tip the bottle to him. "thanks."

"no problem." he clinks his bottle to mine. we both take a long sip. my eyes are desperately trying to find a place to land, ending up on the bright sign above the bar. but rafe's are still on me.

"you okay?" kiara asks as she walks behind rafe. she is my gurdian angel.

"yeah, just waiting for my beer. excuse me." i squeeze past rafe and walk back to my table. i look back at him and smiles. i hate him.

a few drinks more and my ears are ringing. it was loud and everyone was far too drunk. i excuse myself for air outside. there are a few people lingering, smoking cigarettes or waiting for ubers. i smile and take in the nostalgia.

"you know, it would've been nice to know you were home." i hear rafe's voice next to me.

i roll my eyes and look up at him. "oh, would it have been? sorry, i didn't think you'd care." i say coldly. that liquid courage is taking control.

he looks down at me. "and why would i have not cared?"

"hmm, let me think." i put my finger to my chin. "oh, right. 'don't ever contact me again. we're so over. i wish i never met you. blah. blah. blah.' do you want me to go on?" i say to him.

i watch as he processes what i said to him, the words of our last fight. he looks guilty, for once in his life. "that was years ago, y/n. w-we were just kids."

"oh, really? then why haven't i heard from you for the past few years? phone works both ways, rafe." i say, shrugging.

he stands there quietly, i got him.

"how's school been?" he asks, nonchalantly.

"are you for real?" i ask.

"what? i'm being nice." he says.

i huff with frustration. "you are such an ass." i push pass him and walk onto the sidewalk.

"where are you going?" he asks, following after me.

"away from you." i say, not looking back.

i hear him run up behind me and he gently grabs my arm. "y/n. y/n, stop."

i turn to look at him. "what do you want from me, huh? you want to torture me even more?"

he stares at me, hand still on my arm. "what? of course not. y/n, i missed you."

"fuck off." i spit out without thinking.

"you're drunk."

"and you're an asshole." i say, flatly. "you...you fucking broke my heart and you expect me to act like everything is fucking dandy?"

"y/n." he tries to plead his case.

"no, rafe. you don't get to waltz in here and act like everything is okay with us. do you know how much you fucked me over? one day you're telling me you love me and you want to move to boston with me and the next, you're dumping me over the phone." i poke his chest. "i did everything you wanted, i kept what we had between us a secret, i took care of you. and nothing was enough for you."

he looks down at his feet in guilt. "i-i know, i'm sorry. i was...i was fucked up back then. with my dad on my case and the drinking...i wasn't okay. i felt like..." he cut himself off.

"what, rafe? you felt like, what?" i ask.

"like i was going to hold you back, alright?" he raises his voice. "you are too good for this place, for me. i didn't want to hold you back. i loved you too much to do that to you." i stare at him and laugh. "what? what's so fucking funny?"

"you, rafe. you." i sigh. "instead of being a man and handling your emotions, you ran and hid. we could've worked that out. but you were too scared." i close my eyes and shake my head. "goodbye, rafe."

i walk down the street, hugging my body as the wind blows. a weight has been lifted off my shoulders but there's still that feeling i get whenever i think of him. that feeling that i miss him.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

thanksgiving flew by, even though i had a hangover that felt like it would last a lifetime.

i helped my mom clean up the kitchen as the pogues did the dishes and took the trash out. just like old times.

once we were done, we sat outside around the bonfire. you would think after yesterday, drinking would come to a halt but jj found a bottle of vodka in the freezer and mixed it with kiara's apple cider. we all enjoyed each other's company but my mind could not help but wander. my last conversation with rafe ringing through my head.

"instead of being a man and handling your emotions, you ran and hid."

i shake my head and take a sip of my spiked cider. as much as it rang true, there was still that part of me that wonders 'what if?'. the more i thought about it, the more i wanted to pick up my phone.

no, i need to be the bigger person. i'm stronger than that. i can't text him first.

then i felt my phone buzz in my lap.

rafe: hey

i stare at the text and bite my lip. i know i should ignore it, let it go unread. but my fingers work against my brain and type 'hi' back to him. i sit there, eagerly waiting for a response.

rafe: can we talk?

rafe: i'm sorry about last night, i'm a fucking idiot.

rafe: there's so many things i could say to you rn

rafe: but i miss you.

rafe: i wanna see you.

i look around at my friends and sigh, they would be so mad at me for this.

y/n: sure, give me like an hour.

y/n: park down the street at the usual spot.

my friends leave my house, mainly due to me faking another wave of hungover puking. i run upstairs and check myself out in the mirror, i look damn good. when i get his text, i sneak out the backdoor and hurry down the street. i see his truck parked under the big tree, the spot he always parked in.

i open the truck door and hop into the passenger seat. i look over at him, he's still in his dressy clothes. a blue polo that hugged his arms right and khakis that made his thighs look exceptionally big. he knew what he was doing and i can't tell if i hate him or love him for it.

we drive in silence for a bit, his radio playing music faintly. his hands grip the steering wheel as his mind looks like he's on another planet. i play with the ends of my sweatshirt, anxiously waiting for him to do something. anything.

he pulls up to the beach, the spot where we would always come to. it was dark and the waves crashed against the shore loudly. he turns the car off and looks over at me.

"thanks for meeting me." he says simply.

"sure."

"i'm sorry about last night. you went out to have fun and i ruined it, i know i did."

i just nod at him.

"and...you were right. about it all." he sighs, running his hands over his face. "i should've manned up, talked to you about how i was feeling. but you know how i get. i get too in my head and just jump to conclusions. it wasn't fair to you." he looks into my eyes. "these past few years without you have been a living hell and i have only myself to blame."

"are you drunk? high?" i ask.

"w-what?"

"are you not sober?" i ask again.

"i'm sorry, what? of course i'm fucking sober." he says. "why would i not be?"

"rafe cameron...taking accountability? i'm sorry, it just seems so...foreign?" i laugh.

"i'm being serious, y/n."

i laugh again. "oh, i'm sure. and...the sky is green. we live on the planet pluto. aliens exist and so do unicorns!"

he pinches the bridge of his nose. "y/n, i'm telling the truth! god, you always joke around."

"yeah, because i know you." i say to him. "and you would rather eat concrete than admit you are wrong."

"eat concrete?" he asks, with a smirk.

"you know what i mean!" i huff with frustration.

he grabs my hand and stares in my eyes. "y/n, i am fully sober. we are not in another universe, it is not opposite day. i was wrong and i am sorry."

my brain malfunctions as i look into his eyes. "y-you mean it?"

"every word i said."

my brain not working means i experienced a lack of better judgment. i grab rafe by his collar and connect our lips for the first time in years. this kiss, the one i have longed for since i left this place, was the missing puzzle piece i've been searching for in my life. everything seemed to make sense again.

his hands cupped my cheeks as his tongue slipped into my mouth. he was hungry for me and i wasn't going to stop him because i felt insatiable as well. his hands roamed from my cheeks down to my neck and onto my shoulders.

i needed more.

i climbed onto his lap and straddled him. my arms connected around his neck as he pressed against me. i felt his cock hard against his khakis and i wanted it. i wanted it all. i rubbed myself against him, causing us both to moan.

he continued to kiss me until he broke away and looked at me. his puffy lips formed a cocky smile as he brushed his nose against mine. "you missed me."

"shut up." i was itching for more.

"admit it, you missed me. you missed the way i made you feel." he states.

"rafe, shut up and kiss me, please."

"ah ah ah." he shook his head. "not until you tell me."

"you're such an ass." i roll my eyes, trying to catch my breathe.

"yet, here you are, rubbing yourself against me in my truck." he says, kissing my cheek. his lips then go to my ear and down my neck. "i want it all with you, right now, babe. but i need to hear it."

"fine! fuck, i missed you. are you happy?" i groan, needing him.

"very. get in the backseat." he demands. i quickly follow his order, hopping in the back over the seats. he gets out of the truck and opens up the back door, sliding in next to me. "come here." he pulls me back onto his lap and we pick up where we left off. i continue to rub myself against him as he sloppily kisses me. "just like old times." he jokes and i hit his shoulder. "c'mon, don't act like you don't think about it."

"oh, i do. but i bet you think about it more than i do." i smirk.

"probably." he laughs. his fingers fall to the hem of my sweater and he plays with it. "now are we only here to kiss or?"

"why? you wanna fuck me in your truck? just like old times." i say, making fun of what he just said.

"i do, i wanna fuck you right here, right now. it's all i've been wanting to do." he kisses my jawline. "do you want me to fuck you?"

this is what i missed the most, our back and forth.

"yes, rafe. i want you to fuck me." i moan out.

with that, he practically rips my sweater off my body and starts to kiss down my chest. his large hands palm my clothed breast. i bite my lip and let my head fall back, missing the way he affected my body. i felt his hand snake around to the back and unclip my bra quickly.

"show off." i say, out of breathe.

i smirks and connects his lips to my nipple, sucking and licking it. his hand massaging my other. "don't pretend you don't like it."

i smirk and shake my head.

he continues to focus on my tits, going back and forth between the two.

"more." i whisper, eyes clenched shut.

"what was that?" he asked in a teasing tone.

"i need more, rafe. please." i beg.

"look at you all needy for me. i knew you missed me." his hand slipped under my jeans and panties, stopping right at my core. i felt his fingers curl inside me, going in and out. "all wet for me, huh? what a good girl." he pushed in, fingering my cunt, when his thumb found my sensitive bud. he added pressure, circling it, and i felt as though i was seeing stars.

"s-shit." i cry out, moving my hips to try and gain some friction.

"feel good, baby? let me hear how could i make you feel." he picked up his pace and a pornographic moan escaped my lips. it's been forever since someone has made me feel this good. rafe knew my body like it was his own, he knew how to get me going. "there we go, like how my fingers feel?"

"u-uh huh." i nod, mouth hanging open.

his fingers worked their magic, rubbing my clit at a pace that'll make me come undone in no time. "love the way you look on top of me, baby. so fucking sexy." he attached his lips to my tits again and continued fingering me.

i felt on fire.

i place one hand on the window and the other on his shoulder, holding on for dear life. the more he whispered about me and the faster his fingers were going, i was cumming on his fingers before i knew it. i rode out my high, screaming his name. once i was done, i felt him pull his fingers out of my pants, my juices getting all over myself. i stared down at him, trying to catch my breathe, as he popped his fingers into his mouth and sucked.

"just as good as i remember." he cleaned his fingers off and kissed me again. my hands ran down his buff chest and stopped at the bottom of his polo, lifting it up. his gold chain laid against his chiseled body, he was perfect. i felt as though i was in a trance as i began to kiss down his chest. i could feel his groans vibrating in his chest and i smirked because i was the one making him feel this way. "i need to fuck you."

"you need to?" i laugh, kissing lower and lower.

"yes, y/n. i need to bury myself inside of you, please." he pleaded.

"i like when you're the one begging." i bite him lightly, causing him to hiss.

"i bet."

i unbuttoned his khakis and sat up so he could slip them off. his grey boxers were discolored from the precum leaking off his cock. he took his underwear off and his cock sprung out. "i-i don't have protection." he said, mentally cursing himself out.

"well, are you clean?" i ask.

"yes. i-i haven't been with anyone since." he openly admitted.

i felt the darkness overtake my eyes as i lower myself down onto him. his breath hitched as he slipped all the way in. he was deep inside of me, causing a few tears to leave my eyes. but the pain subsided as he started to rock my hips with his hands, moving me back and forth. i picked up the rhythm he started with me and placed my hands on his shoulder to steady myself. i felt the truck rocking back and forth as i did so.

his hands found my ass and rested there. "fuck, i missed your pussy. so good, takes me so well." he kissed my chest as i grinded back and forth.

i felt my finger nails dig into his shoulder as his cock hit all the right spots. i looked down at him and he stared at me in awe, like i was some work of art. "fuck, rafe. you're so big."

i bite my lip as i let my head fall back in pleasure. i ride him fast as i keep saying his name. "shit, y/n. you're such a good girl, you're so hot. you feel so tight."

i connect our lips, i feel his hands tighten around my ass. this means he was close. "i want you to cum in me, rafe." his eyes widen as he opens his mouth to ask for permission. "p-please fill me up. i miss it so much." i say, trying to catch my breathe.

with that, he lets out a groan and my name falls from his lips like a prayer. "y/n." i feel him coming inside me, painting me. it doesn't take long for his thumb to find my clit again. with the extra pressure applied to my overstimulated cunt, i feel my head reeling. the air in the truck is hot, making it almost hard for me to breath. it all feels too much, my body releasing onto rafe yet again.

we sit there, panting with our eyes closed. i rest my head on his sweaty chest and he kisses me gently. he rubs my back, tracing circles into it.

"felt even better than i imagine." he says, his voice gruff.

"you thought about it a lot, huh?" i smirk.

"all the fucking time."

i take him out of me and sit next to him in the truck. the windows are foggy and our hands find each other, holding them. i get a sense of weird nostalgia, from how things used to be with us.

"well that was a thanksgiving to remember." i joke, trying not to feel overwhelmed by what happened.

"'tis the damn season." he replies.

i slowly slip my sweater back on and try to find my pants.

"w-wait." rafe says. "is this...is this it? just a single fuck and you're gone."

i look at him, his eyes pleading with me.

"i go back to boston on saturday rafe, we only have like a day and a half."

i wish we could keep this going, i wish this was how things always were. but i had to think realistically. i have to go back home, i have to move on with my new life.

he grabs my hand and squeezes it. "boston is only an 11 hour drive. hour or two by plane."

"rafe." i say.

"i can't lose you again. i can't, y/n. these past few years have sucked without you. i can't wait until you come home for christmas again. now that i've got you again, i can't risk it."

i sigh and kiss his hand. "i know. i know." i close my eyes and shake my head. "we'll make it work. we almost did it before."

"we can do it again." he smiles sweetly. i kiss his lips gently, laying my hand against his chest.

"you'd do an 11 hour car ride for me?"

"y/n, i'd fucking walk if i have to." he smiles.

i roll my eyes and kiss his cheek. "you're so cheesy."

he lays me back against the truck seats and kisses me. "don't act like it doesn't work for you."

[puppetmaster13u]

For any of your cryptid batfam AUs. We know Batman thinks criminals are superstitious and cowardly. So how superstitious should most Gothamites be? What are some of the superstitions and things they do because of that? And what random BS do the Bat kids do to actively encourage the superstitions because they think it’s funny?

Vibrates in headcanons.

Okay, so, this is less just the criminals of Gotham- a lot of goons are just trying to put food on the table after all- and more of, Gothamites in general. Like they have good reason to be superstitious.

Like everyone already knows about the Court of Owls, if nothing else then from the Rhyme they use to get children to behave. But Gotham? Is Weird with a capital W even in canon. There are literal streets that disappear and only reappear on certain days, areas where on specific days gravity just doesn't work right, several portals to hell have been opened just in Arkham alone, and there's enough curses and cults to smother any other place.

Funnily enough I am actually currently working on a story that focuses a bit more on the superstitions of Gotham lol. Like a lot of this stuff? Not shit you're going to see in the more tourist-esque spots, but those are death traps already.

Now a lot of the habits and myths of Gotham start out as a thing about Survival. It started less with things about the Bats and more about the Rogues and how to survive.

Tiny plant boxes meticulously cared for, after one noticed how plants react when Ivy is around. They line the windows of almost every home despite the smog, and some even pray through them for their Mother to not attack today.

Small scarecrow dolls, made of grass balls and cloth hang from overhangs on roofs with rope like a hangman, a charm in hopes that the one walking the streets will leave them alone. It ends with some claiming that if you rip the head from the body of cloth, the Scarecrow will come for you.

Small candles and lanterns begin to appear on the windowsills of children, their own homemade batsignals. Some say if you're very good, gifts will appear beside it, while others claim that if you're very bad, the Signal will appear and take you away.

Tiny shrines appear on rooftops over the years, meticulously carved statuettes within. It started with one for the Second Robin, and some whisper about how the Red Hood emerged from it, was reborn through their prayers and gifts. Now there are more, offerings ranging from snacks to child's drawings to figures of clay. No one dares take things from it, the last time someone tried... well, let's just say it didn't end well.

The thing is? The Bats don't even have to do much to encourage this, and don't usually even do it on purpose.

Everyone knows what happened to the ones who tried to be a vigilante. They know of the first Batgirl, humanity slowly dripped away the longer she huddled in the Bat's shadow until she was twisting around just like it. Any child who had been making their own costumes, their parents burned it that night, terrified that the Bat would take their children to be its own next. The small child, everyone knew about him, a wee little thing with a camera clutched against his chest. They all saw him run after the Bats despite the protests, saw him run towards the Bat as bodies crumbled before it. They saw him grab its arm with such tiny hands, and the Bat, grieving, stopped. They all saw the Bat whisk him away, and once more whispered to their children to never follow the Bats into the shadows. They know of the girl cloaked in amethyst cloth, who chased after them despite the warnings and pleadings of others. She disappeared, and the faceless thing of chittering laughs that raced the Robin that appeared in her stead... Everyone knows what happens to those who offer themselves to the Bats, knowingly or not.

Robin can mimic voices, their own childish giggles and clicks echoing across the stone slipping into another's words. What is merely a game to them is horrific for anyone wandering the streets in the dark of the night. Some say that it can steal your voice permanently if it so wished.

Everyone in Gotham knows that the Bats aren't human. Oh they might mimic and pretend to be as such, or even had been at some point, but they're confident they aren't. Even if they put on an act outside of Gotham, corpse-like skin gaining hints of color like blood is actually rushing through veins, everyone knows that's what it is. An act.

The Bats themselves? Well, it keeps their civilian identity safe- and the shrines have helped them get children out of bad home lives and to safety, so they're not going to just... not encourage it.

[vidavalor]

Thank you so much for all your wonderful metas - I enjoy them a great deal. I hope I am not going over old ground here, but I have just finished your defence of Aziraphale's choice (which I agree with 100%) and it has prompted me to ask your opinion of the following:

Having witnessed the Metatron impose upon Aziraphale's good will and impeccable manners and endless sense of obligation with a sodding coffee, WHY did Crowley allow the angel to leave with this wily, manipulative being?

Now, admittedly, Crowley did get to his feet and follow them briefly (after being on the receiving end of that terrifyingly pointed glare from the Metatron) but is immediately distracted by Muriel and thoughts of breakfast with Aziraphale.

This is the same demon who is never still. Always wary, always on guard, always patrolling. Yet, after that ridiculous coffee conversation, after Aziraphale looks to him for direction ("Ummm.."), after that glare, he just waves the angel off on his way for a chinwag.

I actually wrote the scene out so that I could "see" it differently, but it did not help me come to any conclusions.

I would LOVE to know what you think.

Sorry. I wittered on a bit there. 😊

Hi @vernajarrett 💕 Thanks for reading & asking! I'm happy to chat about what I think is going on in the moment Crowley acts like a pod person and Derek Jacobi's character gets all that Big Damn Villain Music in the score. I've got the coffee brewing. Oat milk and a dash hefty jigger of almond syrup? 😜

To answer why Crowley is acting so massively weird during the part of 2.06 that you mentioned, we have to start a little before it with the arrival of the last visitor to the bookshop in S2:

a character played by Derek Jacobi:

When the last new character to arrive at the bookshop door in S2 first arrives, we are down to six other characters in the shop. Five of them-- Aziraphale, Muriel, Michael, Uriel and Saraqael-- are angels and the sixth character-- Crowley-- is a demon. Upon the arrival of Derek Jacobi's character, all five of the angels fail to recognize this person. This is a true shock to us because we think we know who this is, right? That's The Metatron.

We know what The Metatron looks like; we've seen his head quite dramatically huge and in our face on several occasions. We feel qualified to say that if Sir Derek Jacobi shows up it must mean that we're looking at The Metatron. What we tend to ignore is... well, everything else that happens here lol... all of which says we are incorrect about this.

First off? All of this is just (entertainingly) weird: The Metatron is a floating head who thinks himself above humanity but he's here now in a body on Whickber Street. He abhors food but he's stopped to get a coffee at the shop and have a chat with Nina. We first spotted him outside by Mrs. Sandwich in line-- is there a more incongruous place you would expect to see The Metatron than that? lol. It makes it very engaging to watch but these are also the first clues to suggest that something really odd is afoot here and when this character goes inside the bookshop, we really get that sense hammered home by the fact that this being we thought we had correctly identified really easily is unrecognizable-- to not one, not two, but five characters on our show, all of whom should instantly know exactly who this person is.

It's at this point that I'll mention that we technically still do not know who plays Satan on Good Omens. The first time he appears, he possesses Crowley by speaking to him using the voice of Freddie Mercury-- so, Satan is being played by a voice actor doing Satan-as-Freddie-Mercury. The second time he appears-- in 1.06-- he there for Adam, who is eleven years old at the time. Satan appears as a gigantic, cartoonish, cliched-red-with-horns-and-hoofs monster, voiced by Benedict Cumberbatch. It is completely at odds with how GO usually does its more horrific and frightening elements. You could argue that Satan appears this way in 1.06 because it's how he would appear to Adam-- to an eleven year old boy. Everyone sees Satan as Adam sees Satan when Satan comes for Adam. A parallel to that would then be the arrival of the character played by Derek Jacobi in 2.06.

Why can't these five angels identify the person who just arrived?

It has to be because they're angels. It's the only thing Aziraphale, Michael, Uriel, Muriel and Saraqael all have in common.

They can't recognize the being at the door because they're angels; meaning: they're not familiars of The Devil.

This is not The Metatron. This is Satan:

You might notice that one of the angels-- Saraqael-- eventually catches on. What they do is another huge clue to who this is. If Saraqael's realization was that this must be The Metatron, they would have spoken up and said that they recognized him, if only to suck up to the boss. But they do not so that is not their realization...

Instead, they don't say a word. They look afraid, look Up, fold their hands together and start to pray. Since this being is obviously one of them and not human-- based on what he said to Michael upon his arrival-- Saraqael has figured out that if they, Michael, Uriel, Muriel and Aziraphale all cannot recognize him, it has to be because this is Satan.

Saraqael doesn't tell anyone else what they've figured out. They just start praying in case it's their number that's up today. The irony of all of this, of course, is that three of these angels who can't recognize the face of evil-- Michael, Uriel and Saraqael-- are honestly pretty garbage people themselves and also that there's not much of a difference in level of evil between The Metatron and Satan. But, technically, Michael, Uriel and Saraqael are angels, just as Muriel and Aziraphale are angels. All it really means in this case, though, is that they've never been thrown to Hell and, because of that fact, they cannot recognize Satan. (It also helps to illustrate how being cast to Hell is political and doesn't really have much to do with whether or not you're a terrible person. It's just who has gotten caught while getting in The Metatron's way.)

Demons can recognize Satan, though. The problem is that they also can be possessed by Satan and influenced into not even knowing he's there... which is what starts happening to Crowley upon the arrival of Satan in the bookshop.

Satan can make Crowley's words sound natural and of Crowley's own volition-- and then make it so that Crowley doesn't even remember saying them. This is why Crowley is acting weird when "The Metatron" is in the same room with him in 2.06.

We've seen something like this a bit when Crowley put Sister Mary in a trance so he and Aziraphale could ask her questions back in S1. Sister Mary really looked like she was in a trance and that's because it wasn't really necessary for either Aziraphale or Crowley to instruct her to act any differently. They were the only other ones around and they weren't manipulating Sister Mary's behavior in an attempt to use her to influence other people-- they were only seeking information from her. How she acted when giving them that information wasn't something they were terribly concerned with because it didn't really matter.

When they had all the information they thought she possessed, Aziraphale brought her out of the trance by telling her that she was now awake and had just had a dream of whatever she liked best. As he and Crowley are walking away, we see Sister Mary seem like she just woke up a bit from actual sleep and she looks calm and refreshed-- like she really did just have a dream of whatever she likes best.

In that moment, Sister Mary is unconcerned with the fact that such a thought is completely incongruous with the fact that she is standing, dressed in work clothes, in the hallway of her workplace. She does not remember the two people who were just there asking her questions or what they asked her. She believes she was dreaming because that is what Aziraphale told her to believe had happened.

The point is that while Sister Mary didn't know she had been influenced like this and could not remember what had happened while she was being influenced, the effects of it remained a little afterwards, as she continued to believe what it was she was told while under the influence. Aziraphale's instructions to her were comparatively pretty innocent-- he told her she had a great dream so she continued to believe that to be true. Satan in 2.06, on the other hand, is not telling Crowley that he just had a dream of whatever he likes best.

Satan possesses Crowley from the start of the scene, accounting for Crowley's quiet and stillness in the early moments of it. He not only tells Crowley to identify him as The Metatron to Aziraphale and the other angels but he makes Crowley believe that he is The Metatron for real. He tells him to make it sound natural when he tells the angels who he is so that they will believe it. That's why Crowley doesn't sound like he's in a trance, the way that Sister Mary did in S1.

I want to throw in here something else, too, that's kind of a foreshadowing/paralleling scene to this as well that comes a couple of episodes prior to this one we're talking about and that is... whatever the fuck exactly was happening to Gabriel in the "tempest" scene.

For the record, I do not believe that it was Satan possessing Gabriel in that scene. I actually think it's some witch-related stuff--I swear the voice speaking with him is Anathema-- but I bring it up even though we don't know what this is totally all about yet because it has some paralleling things that we can already see are relevant.

First off? Where Gabriel is when this happens:

He's sitting in Aziraphale's desk chair. I'm not trying to say the chair itself is spooky (though it is as a result of all of this? lol) so much as I'm saying that both Gabriel and Crowley acting weird and taken over while sitting in Aziraphale's desk chair (which is very much symbolizing Aziraphale) is one of the many things reinforcing that Aziraphale is falling because here are these two characters who parallel him the most-- the two, other most important characters in the show, arguably, and the two also living in the bookshop in S2-- and they're both falling victim to darkness while sitting in his chair.

But what I really want to point out here is what happens to Jim after his possession. Watch Gabriel's eyes at the end here:

There are a few seconds more as well in the show when his eyes resettle on Crowley. Gabriel disappears entirely while he's being possessed. He is speaking words that Crowley can hear and that Crowley recognizes as coming from Gabriel's voice... but when Gabriel blinks back into the room and looks at Crowley, he has no idea what just happened.

He doesn't remember what he just said. He isn't aware of the fact that someone was just possessing him. He feels a little disoriented and anxious-- which is also sort of Jim's default state in S2-- but what we and Crowley witnessed him saying? He has no idea about that. Shax shows up outside the bookshop and causes a distraction that keeps us and Crowley and Gabriel from sorting all of this out until S3 but Gabriel's expressions on the other side of his possession indicate that he has no idea where he just was mentally, what he just said or did, or that someone was in his mind. This is another scene emphasizing this aspect of possession on Good Omens-- no matter who is doing the possessing. The exact same effects of possession is what is happening to Crowley in 2.06.

So, Satan uses Crowley to identify him to the others as The Metatron and makes him believe that he is The Metatron to cover up the fact that he's been in his mind. Crowley has no idea that Satan has been in the bookshop. The moment this becomes clear, though, is the first one you mentioned in your ask, which is when Crowley really confirms for us exactly who Derek Jacobi is playing by doing something so wildly out of character that it's almost impossible to justify without considering the idea that he's being possessed:

encouraging Aziraphale to go somewhere alone with who he believes to be The Metatron.

Next time you're watching this scene-- and GO, in general-- look for where the music stops altogether. There are moments in GO when the score just ceases to exist entirely for a period of time so that we can hear the words that are being said without any distractions. I've found that scenes where this is happening are usually pretty pivotal, either from a wordplay perspective or a plot perspective or, often, both. There is basically no music in the whole scene in which "The Metatron" appears to have arrived at the bookshop.

The score disappears upon "The Metatron's" arrival and it only returns with that big bit of organ-y "DUN DUN DUNNN" villain music right at a pivotal point in the scene you're talking about:

The music comes back at exactly the moment that the camera holds on "The Metatron" as he is staring at Crowley. Why here?

They really, really want you to notice this glare that this person played by Derek Jacobi is leveling at Crowley. We already don't trust this character if he is The Metatron and he's been nothing but a dick since he arrived, really-- he used "demon" to refer to Crowley, he called Muriel "dim" (he can rot for that alone), and he was a total prick to Michael and Uriel. As awful as they are, no one should be spoken to like that. No one-- including most of the audience-- sees this as being extra-villain-y because this is just how The Metatron is so it's expected behavior from who we might think this character is.

So, to show us who this really is, they can't just rely on us noticing that he's in a dark coat and tie (why is he in Hell colors?!) or that he brought along a temptation coffee or that he uses language from Mary Poppins ("spit spot") when speaking to the angels. All those are clues, for sure, but the moment the music comes back is when the show is trying to give us the biggest of the clues to who this really is-- when the scene is structured to show us that he is attacking Crowley.

Because this isn't actually The Metatron glaring at Crowley; it is Satan giving Crowley instructions to stay put.

It's why Crowley doesn't follow them afterwards and continues to believe that The Metatron was who was in the bookshop-- even as Aziraphale has figured out who it really is. Look at Aziraphale's response here and you'll see that this is one of the scenes that suggests he is pretty damn sure this is not The Metatron:

Aziraphale's head whips over to "The Metatron" in response to what Crowley said because he knows what the only explanation for that response out of Crowley is. If you are looking at "The Metatron" while Aziraphale is still turning his head, you can see that he's still staring at Crowley because he was instructing him to tell Aziraphale to go and to not come with them. Satan pastes on a fake as fuck smile when Aziraphale looks at him but it's actually too late-- Aziraphale already knows what's going on. He just doesn't want Satan to know he knows.

Aziraphale knows that there's no way in the universe that Crowley-- who was so worried about danger yesterday that he escorted him to, like, Arnold's Music Shop and Mrs. Cheng's restaurant lol-- would ever just chill in the desk chair while Aziraphale went somewhere alone with The Metatron.

Ever.

The Big Damn Villain Music shows up after "The Metatron"'s fake smile to Aziraphale. It is in the exact moment that he looks at Crowley again and finishes the instructions he was giving before Aziraphale turned his head. It's because this is one of the biggest clues to this character's identity-- who can do this to Crowley? Satan.

Based on the scenes that follow, Satan here is telling Crowley something like:

You will not follow us. He will be back soon. Everything is fine. I was never here; I am The Metatron. Aziraphale is not in any danger. Stay where you are.

This scene-- the one highlighted by the music-- where Satan is silently giving Crowley directions is the one most like the time we see Satan possess Crowley in 1.01. It has a similar effect for a moment, which is probably why the music kicks in here as it's the best way to remind the audience of who can do this to Crowley and how.

In that 1.01 moment, there was no one else around and Satan was not possessing Crowley for the purposes of having him speak to influence someone else's behavior. Since he did not need Crowley to speak in the scene, Crowley does not. He is silent and still while Satan speaks in his mind and gives him instructions. We see that Satan can take such full control over Crowley that Crowley is trapped within himself. He can't speak, he can't scream, he can't move-- so, he can't drive the car and his connection to the car is shattered to a point that The Bentley is almost in a head-on collision with a truck. This is our introduction to the level of possession that Satan has over him-- all contrasted with the fact that Crowley is supposed to be on a date with Aziraphale in the sushi restaurant. This is all coming back around in 2.06.

Its return is also foreshadowed by this Shax bit during the bookshop attack... Crowley missing when he's supposed to be safe with Aziraphale and Aziraphale worried that Satan has Crowley because the demons are circling and Shax... who exists to get inside people's heads a bit... as if echoing Aziraphale's thoughts, says:

Shall we send up the sushi?

After all... do we really think that a season that spent all that time on whether or not actual demons (representing a person's inner demons) were going to be able to get into the bookshop (symbolically, Aziraphale, and Crowley & Aziraphale) is going to let those demons into the bookshop and then just... decide Satan is on vacation for the week? Or do we think that it's not coincidental that the offer Aziraphale is presented with also happens to be the one thing in the entire Universe that could ever tempt him to Hell?

Hmm... 😉

Anyway, back for a moment to the scene in 2.06 when Satan influences Crowley into staying behind and telling Aziraphale to go with "The Metatron"... The undersung thing in this scene, imho, is Aziraphale's reaction.

If Aziraphale really believed this to be The Metatron with 100% certainty, he could have responded to what Satan just made Crowley say by pressing this idea of them going for "The Metatron's" proposed stroll. He could have said aloud to Crowley: "why don't you come with us?" or he could have told The Metatron that he didn't want to go for a walk and why didn't they just sit here in the bookshop instead and anything The Metatron wanted to say to him, he could say to him and Crowley together? If Aziraphale really completely believed that this was The Metatron, he could have-- and would have-- tried either of those things or something like them in response to what Satan made Crowley say.

Instead, what does Aziraphale do?

He *immediately* starts for the bookshop door. Why?

Because he knows that Crowley is not speaking of his own free will and that the person he identified as The Metatron is, in all likelihood, actually Satan. Aziraphale immediately starts for the door because Satan will have to follow him out, since he was the one who proposed this stroll. Aziraphale abandons the idea of Crowley coming with them when he sees that Crowley is being harmed. Instead, he goes alone with Satan, immediately luring him out of the shop so as to get him away from Crowley.

He leaves the bookshop with Satan to protect Crowley. It also foreshadows the fact that he's going to fall over a temptation that is related to Crowley's safety.

Look at how Aziraphale looks back to make sure that Satan is following him and quickly... how nervous and shaky he looks. He would be nervous if this were The Metatron, sure, yes, absolutely. In this moment, though, he's just living one of his worst nightmares-- the bookshop that he built that protects Crowley has been overrun and Crowley has been harmed right there in front of him.

This is their house. It's their living room, where Crowley's lounged for thousands of nights. Crowley is in Aziraphale's own desk chair. This is supposed to be the place where they both feel safe but now there is no safe space so Aziraphale is doing the best he can in the moment by just responding intuitively and protectively by saying with his actions: Get away from him. Follow me. You can have me. Leave him alone.

So, they go out, right? What happens next but the other scene you mentioned in your ask: Crowley and Muriel.

Crowley gets up out of the chair basically the second Satan and Aziraphale are no longer in the shop because Satan's hold on him in that moment is gone and he probably unconsciously needs to move, since Satan was literally not letting him get out of the chair. This is where the weird behavior gets even more weird-- Crowley doesn't follow them. He literally watches from within the shop through the window for a second as Aziraphale leads "The Metatron" over to Marguerite's. Why doesn't he go after them? Because Satan told him to stay in the shop. Just like with Sister Mary believing she had been dreaming, what Crowley has been influenced by Satan into doing lingers with him gone, since he was instructed by Satan to stay in the shop until Aziraphale gets back.

Crowley paces a little circle like a caged tiger, going back further *into* the bookshop-- a totally normal response to his partner going for coffee alone with a murderous psychopath. He mutters to himself:

"They'll be back soon."

WHAT. THE...? How is there anybody who thinks this behavior is normal at this point?

Crowley turns around and Muriel is there. He jumps a bit, having forgotten they were still in the shop. So did the audience, honestly. This may or may not be significant in S3. Muriel being there in the background, blending into the walls during this scene also means that Muriel is now maybe the only character who could actually tell Crowley what happened during the scenes we have been talking about here because he doesn't remember anything involving what he said.

If you were to ask Crowley at any point from the time "The Metatron" and Aziraphale leave the shop on in S2 who identified "The Metatron", he couldn't tell you. If you were to tell him he told Aziraphale to go with "The Metatron", he would not remember doing that. He has as much memory of the words he spoke in the scene with "The Metatron" as Gabriel does of his "there will come a tempest" moment-- which is to say, none.

Crowley knows that Aziraphale has gone with The Metatron and that they will be back soon. He doesn't know how that came to pass and he has been rendered by Satan incapable of leaving the shop or considering the idea that he should follow them.

If the being at the door is Satan and if Aziraphale's fall is where we left the end of 2.06, Aziraphale could lose his memory, at least for a time, which means that the only character who was a reliable witness to Satan influencing Crowley in this scene is Muriel. One purpose of having them in the shop during these moments from a writing standpoint-- as opposed to sending them over to Nina's coffee shop earlier-- might be to set up a character in S3 who can tell Crowley what it was that actually happened here. (Lucky Muriel lol.)

As you pointed out, Crowley starts speaking to Muriel casually, as if nothing is going wrong. He tells Muriel that they should leave the shop, too, and Muriel says:

The Metatron-- really: Satan-- did tell Muriel to wait in the shop but he did so just by pretending to be The Metatron. While there's no possession there with Muriel, Muriel's line to Crowley is also emphasizing what actually just happened to Crowley himself to the audience. "The Metatron" has told them both to wait in the shop-- so, they are waiting in the shop. They're both following directions they've been influenced in different ways to follow. By Muriel saying that they've been told to wait-- even if they were told in a different way than Crowley was-- it suggests that following a directive is also the reason why Crowley himself is still in the shop.

Crowley's response to Muriel, though, makes him sound like he's back to himself-- and, in several ways, he is. He is remaining in the shop because of the influence but he is not currently under an active influence so he can say what it is that he chooses to say. When he's a little sarcastic with Muriel, it sounds like his normal speech because it is. What he doesn't understand is that he's been influenced to do the same thing Muriel has been-- to wait there in the shop-- just against his will, as opposed to Muriel's conscious decision to follow the directive.

Here's where we have to consider Crowley's audience when we talk about what he says next. Crowley likes Muriel; of all the angels not named Aziraphale that he's met, Muriel's definitely top of the list. That said... Muriel is still an angel who is desperate to please The Metatron, as they just proved to him again in this scene by being excited to have been singled out to assist who they believe to be The Metatron. Muriel whole thing is that they're an Inspector Constable; they are literally the (supernatural) police and Crowley wisely doesn't trust the police.

Crowley has no doubt that, after Muriel does leave the shop, that they'd tell The Metatron anything he said. Crowley actually does believe that Aziraphale is in big trouble because he doesn't trust The Metatron-- he's just been rendered incapable of realizing that he's staying in the bookshop because he's been instructed to do so by Satan, who is really the person with Aziraphale in that moment. As a result, Crowley's mind has jumped to a plan for when Aziraphale comes back from coffee with whom Crowley believes is The Metatron.

Crowley has no doubt that Aziraphale will come back because he's been influenced to believe this to be true, which is why he keeps saying "they will be back soon" and "when Aziraphale does come back", instead of being terrified that Aziraphale will not come back at all, which is what he normally would have been if Aziraphale were alone with The Metatron. It is, in this case, going to be true that Aziraphale returns because that is part of Satan's plan and one of the reasons why he influenced Crowley into believing so.

So, anyway, Crowley thinks the big threat is The Metatron potentially erasing Aziraphale into non-existence by deleting him from The Book of Life. This isn't actually a thing, as Crowley told Beez back early on in the season, but Beez, being horrified to realize that they might have been manipulated by something they themselves and Crowley made up ages ago, doubled down out of embarrassment on it being real and led Crowley to believe in its existence as a result. Crowley has spent the season terrified that Aziraphale is going to be made to have never existed. The plan he's cooking up to save Aziraphale from that fate-- which is what he thinks is going on-- is not one he wants to share with the police. It's not one he's going to say aloud in front of Muriel because that might as well be saying it to The Metatron, as far as Crowley is concerned. We won't actually hear Crowley's plan until he delivers it to Aziraphale in coded speech in The Disaster Kiss Scene and by that point, everything is going, um, really, really badly.

(It's the reason why there's no music in that moment so you can literally hear the words echo around the room when Crowley starts in on it and basically shouts the "THIS PLANET" part at Aziraphale but that's straying from the scenes you asked about so *focuses* 😊)

So, Crowley instead says what he'd really, truly, honestly love to be doing for the rest of the morning and he does so in the way that he and Aziraphale do when someone who doesn't speak their language is around and annoying them-- he says it in Ineffable Husbands Speak to amuse himself and, probably, to amuse Aziraphale, whom he plans on telling later. (He'll do this again a few minutes later, when Maggie is ticking him off by saying he and Aziraphale don't talk.)

Crowley says:

Does Crowley want a little Us Time with Aziraphale when he comes back? Does he want to go with him to have an extremely alcoholic breakfast at The Ritz? (Ineffable Husbands Speak for boozy brunch and sex after too long without it?) Yes. Eventually. But he knows there's very dangerous trouble to be dealt with first.

Crowley says that because he wants Muriel to think that he is just preoccupied with thoughts of Aziraphale and breakfast-- because that's what he wants The Metatron to think and he knows Muriel will tell The Metatron what it is that he said.

Crowley wants The Metatron to think he doesn't have a plan.

But, really, when we have known Crowley to not have a plan? 😊

The problem is that it's a plan for the wrong scenario.

It's not The Book of Life that's happening; it's Aziraphale's fall.

It's not The Metatron at the door; it's Satan.

This is almost the entire communication mess of That Disaster Kiss Scene. They're being watched and whatever the fuck happened to Crowley, he can't see that freezing time to speak openly is an option so he and Aziraphale are boxed into trying to each convey what they think is happening and their plans to stop it using their cant vocabulary.

The ironic thing is that while they-- like the audience lol-- have two different ideas of who the being watching them is and what the threat is as a result, they actually both have almost exactly the same plan... with one, key, very romantic difference.

But that's another meta. 😜

In the meantime, I'll just leave you with a reminder of what "The Metatron" said in a moment when Crowley was still in the room:

[mxrtixnzwrld]

🩵“got me hangin from the ceilin”🩵

pairing: Jason Todd x Fem! Reader

summary: Red Hood and you have been flirty rivals. You make a mess and he’s there to clean it up and put you away, nothing more to it. At least that’s what you both think.

tropes: secret identity, rivals to lovers, superhero AU, hero x villian

warnings: might be ooc, I just got into dc lol

“Seriously darlin? Do I need to be upside down~?” Red Hood chuckled. Although you couldn’t see his face you could tell he was smirking to himself.

“Yeah, I like you better like this.” You smile as he tilts his head to the side.

“Well I don’t, too scared to look me in the eye darlin?” He said leaning closer making you gently hold his mask.

“I am right now aren’t I~?” You mutter closing the gap between you and his mask, a quick breath being taken as an inch of air was shared between the two of you.

“What’s your plan y/v/n? Tryna sweet talk me?” You quickly lift his mask to be met with his lips just stopping before you can see his eyes.

“Don’t you fuckin dare y/v/n.” He growled. You roll your eyes and looked at his face examining every painful scar scattered on his skin. You rub your hand over every small scratch and scar registering nothing but silence and the tension. Jason’s breath halted but continued as your soft thumb grazed against his rough skin like it was fragile.

“I wonder if you’re as hot as you sound Red~” you hummed subconsciously licking your lips. A bright red flushed his features getting a sweet chuckle from you. Under his mask Jason was conflicted. Risk his identity or.. stop this right now. He didn’t wanna stop. He loved the feeling of your hands and the way your voice swayed him. A warm feeling he loved always overcame his body.

“So what now darlin, gonna expose me to the world?” He growled attempting to escape his restraints. You chuckle and tilt his head back staring at his lips.

“Oh no.. I would never, just let me get one before leave.” You mutter, your left hand held his helmet so you couldn’t see his whole face while the other rubbed from behind his ear to his shoulder. Every second your hand explored his muscles if felt as if it set sparks aflame. He wanted you so bad right now.

“And what do you want before you leave?” He asked sarcastically before you finally closed the gap between the two of you. His lips stayed still for a minute before relaxing and becoming more in sync. You slowly parted leaving little room between the two of you.

“Let me down and I’ll-“ he’s stopped by the sound of the Batmobile roaring through the streets. Specifically the one they are on. You slide his mask up and back away slowly admiring your work with an almost teasing smile on your face.

“Not happening tonight but~ I enjoyed that, we should do it more often Red~” you hum with a wink before sliding out the window and to your escape.

Moments later the door busts down revealing the bat himself.

“Jason what happened-“ he asked as Jason sat silently avoiding the bats eyes.

“She uh.. she got away.” Jason huffed as Batman cuts the wire holding him up causing him to fall. Jason composes himself and stands up before fixing his mask all the way.

“We just found a lead on who she is and who she’s working for.” Batman reveals walking out of the empty apartment. Red hood silently follows listening but also thinking.

Did you mean what you said?

“So what really happened?” Dick asked leaning in the doorway of his room with Tim behind him.

“I told you what happened-“ Jason started before being interrupted by Dick.

“Not all of it. You were barely responsive during the meeting.” Dick said with a smirk.

“She didn’t do anything did she?” Tim asked. Jason held his mask and stared at it reminiscing about the way your hands explored him, cradled his face as if porcelain.

“..we kissed.” Jason muttered aggravated and blushing.

“I’m sorry what did you say~?” Dick said putting a hand to his ear. Jason sighed and asked for his door to be closed. Tim closes it as Dick’s eyebrow raises.

“We kissed.. and I liked it.” Jason sighed tossing his helmet on his bed.

“You what?! Do you know what Bruce would think-“ Tim started for Dick to laugh.

“So what, you two are an item now?” Dick crosses his arms and Jason’s eyebrows furrowed as he thought.

“No.. I just have this feeling..” Jason sighs. Is he in love with you? You two couldn’t be together but he wanted you so bad. You were nothing but temptation and you have him around your finger. What he doesn’t know is that you felt it too.

Authors notes: yall I’ve been playin Arkham Knight and although I hate the controls it got me really into DC. I do have other fanfictions coming out but I may add DC to the Masterlist 👀

©mxrtixnzwrld. do not copy, modify, translate, repost any of my work! reblogging is greatly appreciated!!

[isa-is-asleep]

Disclaimer for my sense of humor, did I tell you I grew up watching comedy theaters. Yeah that's why I can't go 5 seconds in a post without making an offhand joke because most theater humor is not kind. So sorry for that.

Alright so we have it like this:

Imagine you're a Moroccan woman, yeah couldn't be me. I'd rather be a dusty cloud....

But not the matter. You wanna shower and feel hell at the same time since you have adhd.

So you hit up your street shop owner and he hits you up with a soap like supplement called "Saboon Beldi"

Looks like this:

As far as my 5 second google search it says it's made with olive and black olive and is older than one county I can't mention.

And it's literally natural, beldi (بلدي) is a darija word (darija is an arabic slang that will make you lose brain cells, it's the worst best Arabic slang lol).

So you get that and your other girl thingys you use for showering. Idk tell me how y'all do hair care, I wanna grow mine, please 🥺.

And you go to your shower, and or the Public one if you want to shower with your friends if you have ones.

Don't be weirded out by that. Moroccan people (usually women) love these community type things, or just gossip. Yes definitely gossip.

I usually don't go, only when Forced with my brother.

Okay I should stop over sharing.

Now that out of the way, you spread that. I forgot the word for cream, you spread that black thing over you (with water ofc) sinc it makes the process of shedding dead skin easier.

Then you bring out the legendary, exotic Omega weapon that made many Morrocan children weep while getting the life scrubbed because their mothers certainly don't know how to fucking hold back. The glove of truth and power. The legendary Kharka (خرقة) !

Using the Black Glove of Darkness and The Black Concoction that smells way too nice for being made with oil. Seriously how tf did they do that.

You use it to scrub your entire body. Literally.

Can't get to your back? Well you little fucker why don't you just have someone do it for you. And free of Labor.

Isn't it fun?!

And then after 30 minutes or an hour since you're a woman and hair makes things harder if my ass that doesn't know shit knows about long hair shower difficulties is that it will take longer.

Or not cuz your adhd just says fuck it and speed run it.

And when all is finished. You see that the green dead skin or something (I still don't know what it is), you see that You've become the living embodiment of a tomato with how hot the shower and hard you scrubbed your Self.

You end it with doing the Normal shit like doing shampoo, shaving, using soap and the "normal" things you do in a shower.

You leave the shower half faint and in dire need of laying for half a day (seriously it's exhausting, except if you're not me I never get exhausted, just fatigued, wait...shit)

Then when you get your energy recharged. You feel way way better. Like seriously If it was east I'll do it everyday because it makes me feel new and shit but common it's tedious.

If you're interested in learning more Moroccan culture or just weird ass info in a weird humorous way than I am available (probably, if I am not that's cuz school)

Also pray for me that I can make coffee in secret tomorrow.

Goodbye Isa.

Owner of a hell calico cat is out

Also this.

I can't get this song out of my head, been listening to it for the entire day

https://youtu.be/Rec0a1UBz0Q

The black glove of darkness sounds painful, but your skin must be so smooth! Thank you for the bonus cat picture! Your little goblin is adorable

Good luck with the coffee!

[set-phasers-to-whump]

i know, you know

prompt: equipment failure

whumpee: illya kuryakin

fandom: the man from uncle

hiii i will be honest with yall this is not my best work but so it goes. maybe you will enjoy regardless. who can say. (title from the psych theme song lol cause it kinda works and i could not think of anything better)

The zipline has been stretched between the roof of the building they’re currently on and the roof of another, significantly shorter, building which is quite far away. Beneath it is only the street, no minefield, which Illya supposes is rather nice, given his track record with these things. 

Although he’s not sure the street is actually any better. Not that he’s going to fall this time. He and Gaby and Solo are partners now, and they’re not going to leave him stranded halfway through. They’re not going to force him to drop into the middle of the Wall. 

“Line’s secured,” Solo says. “Be my guest.”

He’s speaking to Illya, and Illya knows why he’s doing this. It makes him feel quite warm, actually. Solo’s little gesture of, I won’t even give myself the chance to do to you now what I did to you before. It’s nice. It shouldn’t be, probably, but it is. 

He grabs hold of the handle and jumps. 

He hasn’t been on many of these things before. They are not the most common piece of equipment in a spy’s arsenal, and they’re rarely actually useful. So it’s not immediately clear to him whether the thing is supposed to be making this weird noise, whether it’s supposed to be moving this much. 

Around halfway through, he gets his answer. The line just snaps, and then he’s falling, still holding onto the handle. 

It’s not a terribly long fall, but it’s likely two stories. He tries to land as best as he can, except his leg gets caught under him and he feels something in his ankle snap. 

He loses just a second of time, then. A second of hot pain and shock at what’s just happened. And then it passes, and he becomes himself again. 

He needs to get out of here. They hadn’t been using this zipline for nothing, and he hardly thinks his fall from the sky will have escaped notice, even in the dark. 

He pushes himself to his feet, takes a steadying breath as he puts weight onto his definitely broken ankle, and begins to run. 

He arrives at the rendezvous point later than he should have done. He’d tried not to pay any attention to the pain pulsing through his entire leg, but he supposes he might not have been entirely successful. In any case, Solo and Gaby are already there, looking entirely too worried for Illya’s liking.

“What happened?” he asks, settling down onto the park bench beside them. It feels so good to get the weight off his ankle that he almost wishes he’d stayed standing. He doesn’t want to convince his body to get back up later. 

“I don’t—I don’t know,” Solo says, and his voice is all wrong and Illya does not like it. “It shouldn’t’ve done that. Obviously,” he adds, laughs humorlessly. “I don’t know what happened. God, I’m sorry. Are you—are you alright?” 

“I am fine. Was there any trouble on way here?”

“No,” Gaby says. “But you’re not fine. I saw you limping, and your hands are all bloody.”

He looks down, notices for the first time his own red, raw palms. They sting, he notes. He hadn’t felt that before, but now he does. 

“I think,” he begins, and he very carefully does not look at either of them as he speaks, “that my ankle was broken. It will be fine.”

Solo lets out a low breath and it sounds like he’s hurt, although Illya knows he isn’t. 

“We need…we need a doctor,” Gaby says. “Right?”

Illya shakes his head. “No doctors. Not good for mission. It will be fine. I will make splint, and we will be back in London tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?” Gaby asks. “You’re really sure it will be fine?”

“Yes,” Illya replies. He doesn’t want to feel annoyed, but he is, just a bit. He’s been hurt worse, and they all know it. A broken ankle is hardly anything to be concerned about, in the grand scheme of things. 

Something of this sentiment must read on either his voice or his face, because Solo says, very quietly, “I’m sorry. You have every right to be angry, and I—I don’t know what I can do to make it up to you, if I can make it up to you, but—”

It is at this point that Illya cuts him off, his slight irritation completely replaced by confusion. “Why would I be angry with you?”

“It was my zipline.”

“And? You did not break it.”

“Yes, but…”

“He’s right, you know,” Gaby chimes in. “It’s hardly your fault if the CIA gave you broken equipment.”

Solo falls silent. But only for a few seconds. “When you fell—” he starts, but doesn’t continue. 

“It was really scary,” Gaby keeps going for him. “It was a long way, and we couldn’t do anything, and then you hit the ground and you didn’t move and we thought… But then you got up and we ran downstairs, only you’d already left and so we came here.” Her words are spoken all in a rush, and they make a strange feeling swell up in Illya’s chest. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I did not mean to worry you.”

“Hardly your fault,” Solo says, turning the argument against Illya, now. “Just…we’re glad you’re alright. Relatively speaking.”

“Yeah,” Gaby chimes in. “Now come on. It’s not far to the safehouse, and you had better not think we will let you fix yourself up alone.”

He hadn’t expected to be allowed this. He knows them too well, knows their routines and is familiar with—even likes, though he’d be loath to admit it—the methods they’ve devised to care for each other. 

“I know you will not,” he says, and he thinks that he does not do a very good job of stopping the fondness from bleeding into his voice. 

It hardly matters, anyway. Not when they all stand up and his partners move to either side of him, supporting him easily. Not when he knows they can feel the way he relaxes against them, the way he trusts them, is at ease with them. 

They all know.

thanks for reading! love ya <33

[love-songs-for-emma]

This isn't an ask as such, it didn't seem appropriate to pull it out of the tags to reblog to empathize over our related losses.

Also, I am so autistic, so I worry about going about things wrong so my apologies upfront if this breaks Tumblr social norms, but also I guess the older sibling in me, just couldn't leave that unacknowledged in my tags.

Hi hello I am the op of the Hannibal's defiance of god post

I'm an older sibling, though it doesn't matter the details of how I lost my baby brother, it should have been preventable, and even had it not been, it makes the universe feel stormily unbalanced in my experience, losing a sibling, just a big hole of overwhelming emotions where there used to be so much life

Anyway I don't want to be soppy in your DM's or whatever, I just wanted to send you a big brother hug I guess, some empathy and support at least. No matter how long it's been, there is always that empty place where your sibling is supposed to be

Then I saw that you're also chronically ill & disabled on my way over here, so apparently we have other things in common that are less heart wrenching so I am also generally saying hello, nice to meet you, in the most awkward way possible. *Waves like a strange nervous little gremlin*

(post being referenced)

hi !! first off,, if you'd rather i didnt answer this publicly *pls* lmk and ill remove the post asap. i'm also a gremlin who's unsure of tumblr social norms from time to time lol

secondly,, thank u So so much for reaching out. this was incredibly sweet of u & made me v emotional to read (/positive). *a big hug from a younger grieving sibling right back at you*

there is so much to say about losing a sibling and i worry if i start, i'll never stop (which is already true seeing as it's been years and i've written countless words about this specific grief). i relate so much to the things you've said here; dead siblings are a phantom limb we'll always be trying to move. i don't think there'll come a day where something big happens and i don't think of calling them.

there's a reddit comment i came across years ago talking about grief that i'll never forget and i think it's always worth sharing, especially to someone like you who i think will appreciate and understand it:

"In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don't even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you'll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what's going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything...and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life."

and because i can't shut up about grief, here's a spoken word poem that brings me comfort. particularly the ending,

"We are not created or destroyed, // We are constantly transferred, shifted and renewed. // Everything we are is given to us. // Death does not come when a body is too exhausted to live // Death comes, because the brilliance inside us can only be contained for so long. // We do not die. We pass on, pass on the lightning burning through our throats. // When you leave me I will not cry for you // I will run into the strongest wind I can find // And welcome you home."

i don't know what i believe in this world, but i know that our siblings do live on through us, in all the ways they affected us and the stories we tell. and this pain will be with us forever, but there is a life to be lived in between all of that. and sharing them with others is part of it. and it is a gift to have known them and get to share them in moments like this with others.

gah! i know u came here to comfort me (despite me giving u all these comforting words in return too) but u truly *have*; i feel comforted by being given a space to talk about them. i imagine you feel it too: the way it's a little taboo to talk of the dead at all, the avoidance of statements that make people ask questions. i try to still talk freely about the ones i've lost, but people hear "dead" and don't think of a real person who once was Everything to u and So Full Of Life. (similar to what i was saying in the tags of your god post,, mischa is more than just a Dead Girl Trauma Backstory of hannibal's. she's real. she was there. she was *alive*.)

if you've made it through all that,, well congrats! you've got a peek into our new friendship; i am either silent (overwhelmed/Goin Thru It) or saying All Of The Words Ever! regardless, thank u again for reaching out & i'm happy to have met you, even and especially if thru a lil trauma-bonding. hehe♡ be well, luv!

[shiggyscumrag]

'A Work in Progress'

'Will you show it to me when it's done?' Ushijima asked. His face was stern, yet a look of curiosity and a little desire? You looked away at this point cause you were about to combust.

'Uh yeah sure. It's gonna take awhile though so you might not-'

'I'll wait.' He interjected.

Your breath caught in your throat. Heart beat picking up pace as you felt the heat rise in cheeks. Taking a quick breath to compose yourself you look back at him. You swear eye contact has never been so hard.

'Well I'll gladly show you when it's done.' You smiled. Gripping your hands together infront of your body, trying to keep them from visibly shaking.

'Are you doing anything Saturday?' He asked.

Racking through your schedule in your head as quickly as you can 'I don't believe I am.' You replied.

'Would you like to accompany me too the Cafe down the street from here. I'd like to get to know you better.' He explained.

'I'd be happy too Ushijima.' You replied, a small smile on your face.

Ushijima would be lying if he didn't get a little flushed when you agreed to his proposal. He felt weirdly energetic and fidgety. 'Okay. We will meet at twelve then.'

'Perfect! Well I should be on my way, see you then.' You said smiling and turning around in the direction home. 'Have a good night Ushijima, get home safely.' You waved goodbye before rounding the corner.

'You as well (y/n).' You heard him say looking back one more time. Those hazel eyes once again locking with yours. Those eyes were gonna be the death of you, you knew it. You could feel it in your gut.

On the walk home you felt the urge to tell your friends about the weirdly cool meeting you just had with a very handsome kind stranger.

[You]

So I meet a stranger in a dark hallway and we are now meeting on Saturday at 12 at the Cafe down the street from the studio 🧍

[Best friend 1]

What 😃

[Best friend 2]

Oooo okay bestie

Get it I guess

[You]

I was just rehearsing and when i was leaving i literally ran into him

I almost fell over and everything lol 💀

[Best friend 2]

Dead 💀

[You]

I know right 😭 it was so embarrassingggg

I saw him a few weeks ago so it was cool to see him again and actually talk to him

[Best friend 2]

Ooooo a spicy romance is a brewing

Better snatch him up girl

[Best friend 1]

Are neither of you gonna question who this man is? Ever wondered if he was maybe, idk, A CRAZY MURDERER???

[You]

No no no, he's super sweet!

He said he heard me singing and liked it so he was just listening

[Best friend 2]

Goals

[Best friend 1]

Okay but do you know his name 🤨

[You]

Yes 😒

[Best friend 2]

OOOO WHO IS HE?? DOES HE GO TO OUR SCHOOL???

[You]

I think so, he had a jersey on with our colors

He said his name was Ushijima Wakatoshi

[Best friend 1]

...

[Best friend 2]

Oh.

Oh wow.

[You]

WHAT????

Y'all got me worrying

[Best friend 2]

The Ushijima Wakatoshi?

[Best friend 1]

You do realize why this is a big deal right.

[You]

...no

Am I supposed too

[Best friend 2]

YES

[Best friend 1]

He is literally the Ace and Captain of the Boyd volleyball team. 3rd time champion. One of the top three spikers in the country. On the Japan olympic youth team.

[You]

Shoot.

Now on your bed, phone against you chest staring at the ceiling contemplating your stupidty. HOW DID YOU NOT KNOW THIS MAN?? HIS FACE IS LITERALLY ALL OVER THE SCHOOL?!?!?! Goodness gracious. How are you supposed to go to this stupid Cafe meetup now knowing who he is?

It's okay. You'll be okay. It's not that big of a deal? It's not like it's a date. It's just a meetup to get to know each other. It'll be fine.

——————————————————————

It will not be fine. This is anything but fine. Here you are waiting outside the Cafe ten minutes early cause you'd rather be early than late. Boy was that a mistake. You feel as though you're gonna have a heart attack.

'(Y/n)?' A low voice said making you jump. While spacing out you didn't know Ushijima approach you.

'Oh, hello Ushijima!' You said a bit supirsed.

——————————————————————

End of part 3 lol, the hangout will continue into part 4 so...I hope you enjoyed and will continue to read this when later parts come out :)

[sofiaaaaaaaa03]

Chaotic Foundling

Paring: Din Djarin x teen reader (GN)

Word count: 1,908

Rating : PG

Summary : Din's foundling is a wild thing and poor him has to do his best and parent them.

Warning: I am not really that wild so I did my best to show that they really don't have any boundaries in life lol. I hope you enjoy :)

It only took Din a day after taking you in to realize how much of a handful you would become. Sure, he thought that you were just a little on the hyperactive side…. He was quickly proven wrong.

“Stay put. Stay quiet.” Din sat you on the co-pilot’s seat of the Razor Crest. He was making last minute preparations for their departure off-planet. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” You hummed, swinging your legs in the chair as he walked off.

He made his way over to the sleeping quarters to check on Grogu. The Mandalorian was unable to make a proper check up as the ship suddenly jerked, tripping Din over his feet and face first into the floor. His armor rang loudly in his ears, disorienting him for several clicks before he managed to make a proper stance and run to the cockpit. There, he found you sitting in the pilot’s chair, his chair, a wild grin on your face as you gripped the controls.

You made a disappointed grunt when Din tried to pry your hands off of the controls.

“No!” You swatted at his hands in an attempt to stop him but he overpowered you quickly, landing the razor crest in a fast manner. The pit was silent except for the occasional beeping of machinery.

Din suddenly turned to you. “What was that?”

“You took forever!”

Din paused a moment, seemingly in disbelief despite not being able to see his face. “I was gone five seconds.”

----------

“Y/N! Stay put. I’m coming to get you.” Din stood at the base of a dune, staring up into the sky where you were. He had turned away for one second the next thing he knew was you got nabbed by local thieves who’d made a surprise attack, taken up into the air by one of them mounted on their cruisers as others surrounded him.

“No shit!” Your voice rang from above.

Din was quick to overpower the group around him. They were equipped with menial weapons that were nothing compared to his beskar. After throwing the last of the men to the ground, Din made a move to activate his jetpack when a body fell to his feet. He paused a click, seemingly unaffected by the sudden crack the body made and looked up at the cruiser where you sat alone.

To say that Din was proud would have been an understatement.

“Good job kid,” Din beamed underneath his beskar. “Sit tight, I’m- hey- wait- NO.”

Without giving Din a chance to finish his statement you dove into the air. You had no parachute or jetpack on your own. Instead you dawned a crazed grin on your face and a light in your eyes as you fell closer and closer to the ground. Your mouth opened to yell in joy, but instead made an “oof” sound when Din caught you midair.

“STILL ALIVE!” You exclaimed, dangling upside down from the way Din managed to catch you.

“Maybe if I drop you you’ll have some sense knocked into that head of yours.”

-----

Din thought that after the endless lectures you’d come to realize that you were to stay put where you were told as he went into battle. He quickly realized he was wrong when amidst the soldiers was speck of (H/C). He paused for a moment, unsure of what to think as he scanned the area for whatever it was he saw. Blasters grazed his helmet and hit a droid behind him, Din quickly straightened up and turned to the fallen droid before diverting his gaze back to whoever shot the fire.

There you were, carrying a blaster almost twice your size with Grogu swaddled on your back. And you were… laughing?

“Y/N” Din began marching towards you too.

“I wish I could have seen the look on your face.” You wheezed, jumping up and down. Din worried for the blaster in your hands and whoever was unfortunate enough to receive the next shot, most importantly whether it was to be on purpose or not. “Guess you weren’t ready for me to save your butt just now. You’re getting slow Din!”

A blast shot out of Din’s weapon as a soldier advanced toward the two children. You barely made a reaction as you were in the middle of spinning in joy.

“Where did you get that? I- Y’know what- nevermind. Go back to the ship. We’ll talk later.”

“But we like it here-”

“Now.”

You looked at Din a moment with a small frown. It quickly concerned Din when he saw that frown turn into a toothy grin, but before he could say anything a cruiser zoomed past him and all he could do was watch as you somehow mounted the vehicle mid-air, laughing with a wild glint in your eyes,

“No. Kid get off. No, no- Y/N! Hey!” Din broke into a run and followed the cruiser as you taunted him by sticking out your tongue and shooting the blaster recklessly.

---

The Mandalorian was assigned to hunt down a Bosa that had been terrorizing a peaceful farming village. After leaving you and Grogu to the care of the villagers, he spent the next several days tracking down the beast before he finally found it. What he was not expecting to find was you taunting the trapped beast with a metal pole and a blaster by your side. How you managed to trap it, Din didn’t know. He didn’t even want to know how long you waited before sneaking out of the village. But he turned to find Grogu nearby watching, giggling wildly until he fell over.

Din tried to call for you, but you didn’t hear as the beast roared loudly at you. You bore a crazed grin and screamed back at the creature, your face unnecessarily close to its mouth, and laughed wildly as you poked the creature with a stick. Just as the creature was about to try and bite you from it’s trap, Din picked you up and carried you and Grogu away from the creature.

“Can we cook it??”

----

With the amount of trouble you’ve caused for Din he’s learned to do a routine checkup to make sure that you had all of your limbs intact as they should be. With the amount of trouble you went into, from taking big falls and getting hit by a dewback -long story- he realized that checkups were a necessity as you probably had more mishaps and adventures than you let on.

“YOU’LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE.”

“You need the bacta kid,” Din was hot on your tail as you ran away from him and the bacta spray in your hands. He quickly put you in a corner. “Aha. C’mere, it’ll only sting a little.”

He took some steps forward and knelt down, opening his hand so as to invite you to allow him to put the spray on your arm. For a moment, he saw your eyes soften and thought he finally got through to you.

“SNEAK ATTACK.”

Seemingly out of nowhere you smacked a metal breastplate against his helmet and made a run for it as he was disoriented.

---

For obvious reasons, Din had to find a lock for the armory. He took you and Grogu with him to the local market close to where they were given room and board for the night.

“Put it back.”

Your hand froze, holding a blade in your hand. You quickly stuffed it out of sight even though Din was ahead of you and wasn’t looking in your direction. “Put what back?”

Din stopped after a few paces, his attention turned to a fruit stand and began to pick up some and check to see if they were ripe. “What happened to the credits I gave you?”

“I lost them.”

A sigh. Din wasn’t surprised. “How?”

There was a pause.

“Gambling.” The largest smirk spreads across your face.

Din whipped around. He blinked for several moments and enunciated each syllable, tone almost sarcastic and defeated as though he was trying to not believe what you’d said “Gambling?” You nodded enthusiastically. With a sign, Din decided that he didn’t want to deal with any interrogation and cause a scene, instead he grabbed your arm to lead you in front. “We’ll talk about it later. For now, you in front until we get to the ship.”

The clan made their way down the marketplace until Din steered the troupe to a vendor with an array of weapons on her stall. You were left admiring the pieces as Din made his business. He needed some information regarding his next bounty and thanked the vendor afterwards, paying a little extra for her cooperation before turning to you.

“What?” You stared up at him with widened eyes.

Din held his hand out, “C’mon.”

You stared at his hand for a moment before sighing, fishing a small bomb out and placing it in his hand. The vendor watched wide eyed but said nothing as Din returned the ware to her and returned his gaze to you. “All of it. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

A moment. Then a sigh as you find that you had no way out of it. You pulled out all of the wares you’d stolen from the stand alone, putting them all on a considerably big pile on the stall while the vendor quickly retrieved them to put away.

“There.” You huffed, crossing your arms and turning away from Din.

“Thank you.” Din’s tone was sarcastic.

“Yeah, no problem rust bucket.”

Din shook his head and turned to the woman, “I’m sorry. My foundling hasn’t broken their habit of stealing. I hope you can understand.”

After he made you apologize to the vendor he took you by your arm and walked you back through the streets and towards the ship. He sighed, “I don’t know why I bring you to the markets. If you don’t stop this you’ll end up stealing from the wrong hand. And then what will you do?”

“Die probably”

---

Din knocked on the door of your sleeping cot. It was early morning and he needed you to help him with some preparations for the next trip off planet.

“Y/N. I need you to help me out with inventory. Can you come out?”

The door made a hiss before opening and you bounced out of the hull and zoomed off, ready to tackle the tasks. You were usually ecstatic to go off-planet, despite Din’s dismay as he knew it meant you’d find yourself into more trouble. He chuckled a moment and was going to walk off when the datapad on your bed caught his attention. He picked it up a moment and gazed at the screen.

You perked up at his voice while you were on your way to the storage below the floorboards. “Kid, what’s this?” He had the screen facing you, showing detailed maps of star destroyers and other military projects.

You gave the screen a glance before disappearing under the floorboards, your voice echoing louder from beneath. “I was just messing around a bit with some channels and found that.”

Din stared at the pit where you were for a moment before walking off into the cockpit, falling into his chair. He found himself facing an unprecedented predicament in which he was faced to call for Bo-Katan to inform her that his foundling had hacked into the Empire’s system.

Tag list:

@kiara-is-gay @sagedgeek

[yayeetsonny]

Always Tell The Truth Part 2 ~ USWNT x Reader

Okay so if you haven’t read the first part of this, which I will put here. Always tell the truth part 1 I suggest you do that, otherwise this one will make no sense. Also sorry... again for being gone so long. I hope you guys didn’t miss me too much. :)

-N

Previously...

“Those bruises, Y/N, where’d you get them?” 

“I. Don’t. Know.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Fine then, don’t believe me. First Alex, then Christen and now you. This is just great, my teammates think I’m a liar. Well I’m not and I’m telling you the truth.”

I brushed by her and stormed out of the room, now determined to avoid my teammates so they’d stop asking questions and questioning my honesty.

“I’m not a liar. I don’t know where I got the bruises, I don’t know why they won’t believe me.”

Present

After I stormed out of the room I share with Ali I ran... yes literally ran out of the hotel and out into the street. Well okay it was more like the sidewalk but whatever, I’m going for dramatic story telling here. I was angry, hurt and confused as to why my teammates couldn’t just believe me. I’ve never lied to them before, not ever. If something was going on I would have told them. And I genuinely have no clue where these bruises came from, I don’t remember hurting myself badly in practices or games and I don’t do any other crazy activities that would warrant the sudden appearance of severe looking injuries. I knew I just needed to clear my head so I started walking in a random direction hoping to get my thoughts together.

After a while I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and knew it was probably one of my teammates looking for me so I ignored it. My phone stopped ringing only for a short time before it stared up again. This went on for several long minutes before it finally stopped. After each attempt from whoever was trying reach me there was a separate single vibrate indicating they left a message. I felt a little guilty for disappearing and probably worrying everyone but they shouldn’t have assumed or accused me of lying. Thinking they finally got the message that I didn’t want to speak to them I continued walking god knows where trying to think of what to say when I finally decided to go back. I was really deep in thought, trying to remember if and when I got the bruises. Obviously they don’t just appear like magic. They have to be caused by something, but... what? All the sudden I was hit with a vague memory

“Huh?... Wha- where am I?”

“You fell asleep on the couch dear. Don’t you remember? It was really adorable actually. My mom said super sweetly.

That’s weird, she’s never overly sweet with me, like ever.

“No, I don’t remember doing that.”

I looked around and the tv was on, which is also rare. It was playing a random comedy movie. Comedy? My parents don’t even like comedy movies.

“Oh well you did. Right after dinner, you dragged your feet over to the couch and was out like a light before we knew it.” She said casually.

My dad waltzed in like everything was totally normal. What the fuck is going on. Why don’t I even remember eating dinner? How long have I been here? Why does my body hurt so much?

I came back to the present feeling slightly uneasy. I remembered now a little bit of what happened when I got to my parents house and a little bit of what happened after I woke up from my nap. They managed to convince me everything was fine after that and I left assuming they were telling me the truth because I was too tired and too annoyed to argue. But the more I thought about it the more I wondered just how much of what they said is true. Why were there huge gaps in my time with them? And why do I get the feeling that the weird gut feeling I have isn’t a coincidence? I got lost in thought again but it was peaceful this time and quiet which I was relishing in.

Unfortunately the peace and quiet only lasted for a few minutes when I started to get what I assumed were dozens of texts. I finally got fed up and decided to silence my phone completely. When I unlocked it I saw a glimpse of some of the worried texts from the team. They all pretty much said the same thing;

“Y/N please come back. I’m sorry for saying I didn’t believe you. I’m just concerned about you. I want to talk and I’ll listen to whatever you have to say. Just please come back.”- Ali

“Hey kid, heard what happened. Wanna talk?”- T

“Y/n where are you? I heard what happened and that you left?? please come back, we’re worried.”- Christen

“Bruh what the hell? let’s talk?”- Ash

“where r u?”- Mal

“It’s not safe for you to be out by yourself. Ali told us about the other bruises. Whatever this is we’ll help you. We’re gonna start searching for you if you don’t get your ass back here soon. We love you.”- Alex

And it went on like that as every single member of the team texted me some variation of that and the voicemails they all left were much the same. I started to feel more guilty but let my anger keep me from replying to them. They can stew a little longer.

Meanwhile back at the Hotel...

CHRISTEN PRO//

“Okay, so tell us exactly what happened.”

“I saw the bruises when she was changing, which I happened to walk in on. I don’t think she was expecting me. I asked her what happened and she said that nothing had happened and I asked her about the bruises I saw on her arm, shoulder and spine and she continued to tell me she has no idea where they came from. I told her I didn’t believe her and then she got upset and she just... left.”

“Just like that? She didn’t say where she was going?”

“No, she was so angry she just stormed out and when I tried to follow after her she was already gone.”

“And she’s still not answering her phone. Damnit kid come on, where are you?”

“She’s not safe out there on her own, we have to go look for her.”

“And how are we supposed to find her when she doesn’t have her location on and is doing everything she can’t to ignore us?”

“I have no idea but we have to try.”

“We will, but we should give her a little more time. It’s possible she’s just around the corner cooling off. She’ll come back when she’s ready.”

“You’re right.”

“Guys I hate to steer us back into more serious topics but shouldn’t we be talking about the bruises she has that started all of this?”

“What do you guys think they’re from?” Megan asked.

“I want to believe her when she says she doesn’t know but I mean how can you just not know about bruises as severe as those?” Ash said.

“I mean... I’ve had some pretty bad ones I don’t remember getting from anywhere.” Mal said off-handily.

I saw some of the rest of the team nod silently, indicating that they too had, had the same thing happen to them. And I had to admit that I had my fair share of bumps and bruises that I couldn’t explain because they just seemed to appear but I was still concerned for our youngest teammate as it was getting pretty late and it was already dark outside.

“Oh god, you don’t think it’s her parents do you?” Tobin asked no one in particular.

We all paused for a moment to process what she was implying and I know we were silently hoping, praying that they wouldn’t do that to her. That they wouldn’t beat their own child.

“No, there’s no way. She’s told us that they love and support her and that even though they aren’t around much they still care about her.”

“Right, you’re right.”

“It has to be them though, I mean there’s no other explanation. She didn’t have them before or after practice right?” Alex asked.

“No, she didn’t.” Lindsey said solemnly.

“Do you really think parents can just flip a switch? Just like that? Be caring and supportive one minute and violent then next?”

“It’s possible.”

“No, just don’t even go there. I refuse to believe they would do that.”

“We would have seen the bruises if she had them before, since we all change in the same locker room together for practices and games remember?” I said

“Fuck. When I get my hands on them I swear to god...”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence because Y/n walked into the dining hall where we were all gathered.

“Get your hands on who?” She asked quietly

“Kid...”

“Y/n holy shit, thank god.”

“And she lives!... not the time? Got it.”

“Y/N... we need to talk.”

“Why? There’s nothing to talk about. I don’t know what Ali told you, but I don’t know where these fucking bruises came from okay? I don’t know. I’m sorry, I know that probably isn’t what you wanted to hear but it’s the truth. If you don’t believe me that’s fine but i’m not talking about it anymore.”

“Sweetie please just hear us out okay? We’re worried about you and getting defensive about them isn’t helping your case.” I said, trying to reach out for her but she backed away from me.

“Defensive? I’m just upset because you all still don’t seem to get it.”

“We want to get it, please just talk to us.”

“No.”

“Y/N, please just...”

“No! Okay, just no. I said we weren’t talking about it again and that’s final. What happened to “I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.” Huh, Ali? Good to know that was complete bullshit.”

“I’m sorry baby, please believe me, we just...”

“Oh believe you? For what? You clearly still don’t believe me so why should I give you that courtesy? You know what, this is all just fucking stupid anyways. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

And with that she disappeared up to the room she’s sharing with Ali. Leaving us all more confused and concerned than ever.

“Well... that went well.”

“Shut up Emily, so not the time.”

//End

Okay so yes that is yet another cliffhanger of sorts, I’m sorry but I thought that was a good place to end it. Just know that Y/N genuinely doesn’t remember a lot of what’s going on, just like she says. Her parents are definitely sus asf.

I’m actually writing part 3 rn so that should be up within the next day or so. I know I keep disappearing but my life is totally a mess rn lol. I’m back now tho and am excited to finally get to all the requests I have. Im so sorry for those waiting I haven’t forgotten. Promise.

-N

//

Not edited.

[shycoconutt]

I Found My Light (Kakashi x Reader)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

A/n: Sound the alarms! It’s my first ever writing post! I’ve had this written for a while tbh, and I feel like I’m ready to start getting into this.

Summary: A late-night walk turns into a rekindled friendship.

Word Count: 2300

Warnings: fem!reader, SFW (but might not be later lol)

You opened your eyes for what seemed like the thousandth time tonight. Staring at the white ceiling, you sighed. Sleep seemed to evade you recently, a side effect of the recent dreariness of your life. You found yourself living the same days over and over again. Because of this, the line between day and night started to fade.

The moon was full tonight, you noticed as it shined brightly through your open window. It was the perfect temperature out, warm but chilly enough to feel comfortable wrapped in your blankets. You love listening to the occasional sounds that occurred outside, the noise of leaves rustling in the wind being your favorite.

Your gaze left the moon and landed back on your ceiling. Why is something as simple as sleeping so hard? Gods, all you wanted was an escape. With a huff, you pushed the covers off of you and sat up from your lying position. Trying to force yourself to sleep would do more harm than good right now.

You make your way to your dresser and pull out your favorite pair of black joggers. You love them because they are tight on your ankles, loose on your legs, and have a cinched band at the waist. They are perfect for any lazy day. You slip them on over your underwear, you never go to bed with pants on, and exchange your sleep shirt for a cropped black hoodie made from the same soft, elastic material as your pants.

You turn to face your large standing mirror in the corner of the room to assess your appearance. The all-black look was your favorite, especially since it will help you blend into the night. Your hair was a mess, so you decided to put it up in a loose bun on the top of your head and pull out some strands to frame your face. It felt good to not look so polished and put together. Your jonin uniform was not the most comfortable piece of clothing, especially with the way it hit your figure.

You walked out of your bedroom and across the kitchen to the front door of your apartment. One foot after the other, you slide into your sandals and grab the key to your apartment hanging on the hook next to you. With that, you leave your apartment and head out into the night.

You walked the streets of Konoha at a gingerly pace. It was probably around 3 a.m. at this point, and there wasn’t a single soul on the street with you. You make your way past the line of shops on the main street, including your favorite bakery where you'd treat yourself to a lemon square after coming back from a long mission. You thought about that lemon square a lot when you were out risking your life, embarrassingly enough.

A couple of turns later and you found yourself heading towards your favorite place in all of Konoha, a little area of woods towards the perimeter that contained this amazing koi pond. Although it was nighttime and the fish wouldn’t be as active, you still want to check to see if you can watch any. To your surprise, your favorite koi, who you nicknamed “Nishi'', was out and swimming around by himself. You sit criss-cross in the grass and watch as he glides through the calm water, almost putting you in trance. Nishi didn’t look or act like the others; He was black with white, almost silver-looking spots and he was less frantic in nature. You sway from side to side as you watch him, thinking to yourself about how you would like to be more like Nishi.

“You look cute watching the koi.” You heard a soft, yet unwavering voice declare behind you.

“Holy sh-” You almost jump out of your pants at the unexpected presence. Surprised, you quickly turn your head around to see who’s voice that could possibly be. To your disbelief, there lies a figure perched up by a tree a couple yards away from you. Their feet were crossed, legs extended, one hand in the pocket of their pants, the other holding up what looks like a copy of Icha-Icha, head turned towards you, and wild hair moving with each passing breeze. How did I not notice him?

“Oh I’m sorry (y/n), I didn’t mean to startle you. I figured you knew I was here because you walked right past me.” He brought his hand up to scratch the back of his head and let out a small chuckle. “Guess I should have made my presence known right away.”

Still in disbelief, you get up and slowly make your way towards the figure, stepping into the shadow of the tree to see him more clearly. As you approached you immediately recognized the silver-haired jonin.

“Kakashi?” You say confused. “What are you doing out here? It’s late.”

“I could ask you the same thing.” He states, closing his book and setting it down next to him on the grass. He looked different. He looked… quite hot actually. The jonin uniform you usually saw him in was traded for a pair of comfortable-looking grey sweatpants and a tight, black tank top that connected to his mask. He wasn’t wearing his headband either, just keeping his left sharingan eye shut in a permanent wink. As you observed him, you couldn’t help but notice that he was doing the same to you.

“I suppose you're right.” You smirk and let out a small chuckle. “I couldn’t sleep so I figured that if I was up I should take a walk around the village to clear my head. This is my favorite spot, so I guess I just naturally ended up here.” You exclaimed, still standing in front of him.

“It looks like you and I are having the same issue,” he states plainly, “I came out here a little while ago after tossing in my bed for an hour. I hate trying to force myself to sleep; It’s a battle I never seem to win.” His eyes averted your gaze and moved to his now empty hands in his lap. You couldn’t help but notice a hint of pain in his voice and it tugged at your heartstrings.

You know about the things Kakashi has been through, as it was pretty common knowledge to all jonin in your mutual age group. You were pretty close with his friends, Gai, Kurenai, and Asuma, but Kakashi always seemed to keep everyone at an arm’s length. He also was an Anbu for ten years, which didn’t help the disconnect either. Fortunately, he was relieved from his Anbu position a couple weeks ago, and gradually you have been seeing him a bit more here and there. Though, this is the first time you are able to have a conversation with him in what seems like forever.

“Well,” you sighed, “I guess we have lost the battle together. We must be pretty shitty jonin.” You stated flatly.

Kakashi squinted his eyes and you both laughed. You couldn’t help but take a mental picture of his face at this moment. You really enjoy seeing him happy, as it makes you happy too.

You can’t kid yourself, having a chance to talk with Kakashi alone feels like such a treat. Little genin (y/n) would be ecstatic right now. Of course you had a crush on him back then, who didn’t?

“You’ve always had a natural talent for connecting with people,” Kakashi mused, “I haven’t talked to you since we were teenagers, and here I am laughing with you like we’re long-time friends.”

You could feel your eyebrows furrow at that statement. Yeah sure, you weren’t at his apartment every week for Sunday brunch, but you did have a history.

“Kakashi,” you started, “You are my long-time friend. Just because we drifted apart doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. To be honest, I was relieved when I found out you were no longer going to be a member of the Anbu. It wasn’t good for you.” You stepped closer and sat down next to him, leaning back on the tree stump. The grass felt cool under you, sending a small shiver up your body.

“I suppose you’re right,” Kakashi stated, quoting your words from earlier. “It amazes me that none of you gave up on me. I feel like I am undeserving of everyone’s effort.” You were baffled by his honesty; Kakashi wasn’t known to be much of an open book. It upsets you so much that he feels this way as you couldn’t imagine not caring about him or any of your other comrades in the village. The faces of your closest friends flashed through your mind and you grimaced at the thought of losing them.

Not knowing if you should, you felt compelled to reach over and hold Kakashi’s hand in yours. It's cold compared to the warmth spreading from your fingertips. Hmm, I wonder how long he has been out here. Giving his hand a small squeeze, you look at him in his onyx eye. “Trust me, Kakashi. You are deserving. You are deserving of a great life and people who care about you. I know the world may seem dark, but I promise that a light is always glowing. No matter how small or dim, it’s there.”

You stare at each other in silence for a moment before he changes the position of his hand and intertwines his fingers in yours. The change was small, but it ignites a feeling in your stomach you couldn’t describe. Slowly, you felt your cheeks flush and you turned your face to look towards the sky in hopes he wouldn’t notice. You knew this action was him telling you that he accepts your words, and thanks you for them.

You spent the next hour sitting under the tree together, you looking up at the stars and him looking at you. Your intertwined hands fell between your bodies, resting on the cool grass. You felt him start to graze the back of your hand with his thumb, sending a tingling sensation up your arm. It felt so good to be touched by him, even in such an innocent manner.

A strong breeze ran through the air and hit you suddenly. You began to shiver at the quick change in temperature, realizing that you should have dressed warmer if you were going to be out this long. Yet, you couldn’t have anticipated the situation you are currently in.

“Are you cold?” Kakashi questioned with a hint of concern.

“Yeah a little bit,” you answered honestly, “but I don’t want to go back home. I’m not really tired yet.” Truthfully, you didn’t want this little moment of shared bliss to end. You started to feel like you found your escape, and you refused to be torn away from it so soon.

“Neither do I,” he confessed, “Come here.” He released his hand from yours and slid his position higher up on the side of the tree. He then spread his legs and patted the ground in between, inviting you to sit.

You felt your face get hot again, as the position he was offering you was a very intimate gesture. There was absolutely no way you could refuse his offer. One, because you were freezing and, two, young (y/n) would never forgive you.

You got up and sat down carefully between his thighs, leaning until your back met his chest. He then wrapped both of his arms around you, one around your shoulders and the other around your waist with his hand resting on your stomach. The outsides of your legs met the insides of his and you felt an immediate warmth there. Lastly, your head tilted back and rested upon his left shoulder, with his face nuzzled against your temple. You both fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, no part of you feeling any discomfort against his strong body. Engulfed in his smell and warmth, for the first time in a while you felt completely relaxed.

“Thank you, Kakashi.” You looked up at him with a warm smile.

“Anytime.” He breathed, voice muffled by your hair. You wondered if he truly meant that. I mean, after all, this is the first time you have interacted in a while. Yet, the connection you felt towards him was unquestionable.

Does he feel the way I feel?

“Hey,” you began, “are you tired at all?”

He flexed his arms and held you closer to his chest. “Not really,” he answered, “I’m enjoying this moment too much to be tired.” You smiled, and there was a pause.

“Isn’t this odd?” you questioned again.

“What? You and I snuggled under a tree in a random corner of the village alone at 4 a.m. after we haven’t interacted with each other in years?” he questioned sarcastically, “Not at all.”

“Kakashi!,” you laughed, gently nudging your elbow into his ribs as he laughed along with you.

“Yeah it’s a little odd,” he answered honestly, “but I’m not going to question it. I found my light, and now I’m enjoying it.” He nuzzled his face into your hair and breathed deeply.

Completely and utterly relaxed, you let yourself succumb to the heaviness of your eyelids. Truthfully, this has felt like the longest day in the world and you are happy to end it this way. The sound of Kakashi’s breathing and the rise and fall of his chest acted as your personal sleep machine. It’s priceless.

Before you completely drift off, you swear you could feel the soft, pillowiness of Kakashi’s lips graze the skin of your temple, a soft hum escaping from them.

“Goodnight, (y/n)”

~~~

Queue Hilary Duff’s “What Dreams Are Made Of”. This kind of feels like the beginning of something. Should I continue? Idk if my writing is even good. If you read this, PLEASE let me know if you have any feedback. Again, this is my first story and I would greatly appreciate any feedback, advice, suggestions, etc.! I can’t believe I’m uploading, ah! - Klara

[yee-fxcking-haw]

•Porcelain Obsession•

Summary: Tamaki has a problem, a bad problem. He's obsessed, he's desperate, and he'll do whatever it takes to have you the way he wants you.

Pairing: Pro Hero Yandere Tamaki Amajiki x Reader (both 18+)

Warnings: Yandere, stalking, noncon voyeurism, mild manipulation and sabotage, mild coercive behavior, male masturbation, panty theft, male ejaculation, cum eating. It's just real graphic, strap in.

A/N: I am hopeless, this will have a second part that will be so much more sinful with gratuitous tentacle content. Just tagged those that interacted with the posted about this fic as usual. This little series was inspire by a tiktok I saw, and I'm literally writing it for the sake of putting one zinger of line in it lol.

Playlist

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMJbubhQN/

Word Count: 4,184

Part Two: Love Me Tender

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Stunning, astounding, enchanting. You're an angel, you have to be. That's the only explanation for the way you shine, surrounded by some ethereal glow.

Tamaki Amajiki has a problem. No, it's not a problem, it's completely normal to fall in love, he's under a spell. He can't be blamed for it, he never stood a chance. Although, most people would call this a problem, but only people who don't understand.

An ignorant person would have seen him watching you from around the corner for weeks, following you to your house after work under the cover of darkness, and finally, finally getting a glance into your window at night and label him as obsessed or disturbed. He should have felt dirty for that, but he didn't, not even close. He felt almost holy.

He felt like some chosen follower that was allowed to witness a sacred ritual. He watched you all evening with immeasurable reverence. He took note of the way you ate, how intently you read, but his favorite part was watching you settle into your bed and fall asleep.

As soon as he saw it the first time, it became an addiction. Watching your body curl around your pillow, clutching the fabric as you snuggled into it. How sweet you looked, so soft, so innocent. It made his chest ache, it made him feel starved. He had to have you, smell you, feel you.

That was nearly three months ago. Now, he watches you every chance he gets. The days he doesn't get to, he feels like a pitiful addict going through withdrawal. He has to at least speak with you, know your voice, see your skin up close.

During his patrol around the city he comes to the conclusion that it has to be today. He feels like he's losing breath without knowing you, captured by your existence but suffocated by the distance. He will have you, he will do whatever it takes.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

At your age, you should at least have a friend or two, maybe go out on friday, possibly even work another job. None of that ever seems worth it, not worth the time or the money or the effort to pretend you enjoy it. Here you stay, stuck somewhere in between discontent for your situation and the refusal to do anything about it.

You only have a half hour left of your shift, everyone else has gone home and you’ve been left to do dishes and lock up, as usual. You huff and puff around the shop as you complete the final closing tasks. Anybody else could have stayed and closed, they probably should have too, considering how often you shut down by yourself so they can all go home.

Naturally, you jumped at the opportunity to stay late, where else are you going to go? Certainly not on a date or out with friends. You feel slightly better about making money while you burn the hours away, so you always end up here.

The sun has set already, leaving the illumination of the shop to the awful fluorescent lights that hang from the ceiling. It’s all so mundane, so simple, so dreadfully boring.

Then the bell above the door jingles.

You roll your eyes and throw your rag into the sink, the sign says closed. Why don’t people read? You huff out of the kitchen and into the serving area.

“Hey, sorry but we’re closed right now, we open again tomorrow-” You freeze, it can’t be him, it has to be some cosplayer, some wannabe.

“I’m sorry, I just- my phone died while I was on patrol and I needed to call my boss to let them know I was finished for the day. I was hoping there would be a phone in here that I could use.” His voice is so timid, so unsteady. It doesn’t sound anything like you would imagine the voice of a pro hero to sound.

You try to stay uninvolved with any hero business, all of the flashy quirks and the gossip and the drama. The theater of it bores you to tears, and you lack respect for anyone that uses their ability to save lives as a tool for gaining popularity. You find most heroes to be so incredibly irritating. Most of them, except one.

Suneater, the emerging pro hero that has been the focus of all of your thoughts lately. You've only seen glimpses of him in the news, seen his face on the back page of a magazine, or heard his name from other people. Any evidence of his existence rapidly became precious to you. You are not some hopeless fangirl, you do not collect merchandise or follow him around and beg for autographs.

You admire him, his subtlety, how genuinely different he is from all the other heroes. He isn’t some attention whore, he isn’t some pretty boy that’s always posing for fan service. His quirk is so unique and powerful, unparalleled by any hero on the charts right now. He’s a real hero, and so much of you wanted him to be your hero.

There he stands, right in front of you, in your shop, asking you for help. He’s far more beautiful than you could have possibly anticipated. He’s all porcelain skin and inky hair, deep indigo eyes pear out from under his magnificent hood. He stands so tall, yet comes across so reserved. He’s spectacular, he’s an angel, he has to be.

“Of- of course, it’s in the back, follow me.” You say, motioning for him to come around the corner with you as you tuck back into the kitchen.

“Thank you, this is very kind of you.” He says as he follows, cape swishing behind him as he moves. You don’t know, you can’t possibly know, how badly he wants to take you into his arms and finally know what your body feels like against his, how he wants to bury his face in your hair and inhale your scent. If he could get away with it, he would, oh how he would feel every inch of you. He can’t though, not yet. He has to be careful, he has to be smart.

I will have her, and she’ll have me.

“It’s no problem, it sucks to be stuck without a phone. I’m happy to help.” You say as you round the corner to your shop’s makeshift break room.

It’s not even a room really, just a corner tucked away with a phone on the wall and a few chairs around a cheap foldable table.

You turn to him and motion to the phone awkwardly, heat settling in your chest and all over your skin. Your heart races and you can feel your palms turning wet.

“Take as much time as you need, did you uh- are you hungry?” You ask, “I’m technically closed, but I can only imagine how hungry you are after a whole day patrolling, I could throw something together for you?”

God, you’re so sweet.

“Oh no, you d-don’t need to do that, I can eat at home.” He insists, your mind fixates on the way he stutters, the way his eyes dart down and his feet shift as he talks.

“I would like to. Please? If you’ll let me?” You say softly, heart pounding even faster when he shifts towards you slightly.

How perfect you are, already asking for permission…

“Are you sure, I really don’t want to create more work for you.” He says, eyes flicking up to meet yours. His gaze makes it hard to swallow, he looks at you so intently, you almost feel like you don’t have enough clothing on.

“No! I promise you won’t be. You’d also be missing out on the best takoyaki around if you didn’t let me, and that would be a tragedy.” You say, trying to entice him with your bold claim.

“Well I g-guess, if you put it that way.” He offers you a trace of a smile.

“I’ll get started while you make your call.” You say as you move to squeeze past him in the narrow hall. As you slide by, there’s a brief, precious moment where you stand inches from each other. You don’t dare look up at him as you skate by, You know your legs will fail you if you meet his eyes while standing so close, and you can’t risk the embarrassment of dropping to your knees in front of a stranger, even if he is a hero,

He doesn’t say a word, simple stalks towards the phone as you glide down the rest of the hallway and into the kitchen.

You slip into autopilot in the kitchen, your brain is far too fixated on the fact that Suneater is down the hall, in your shop, using your phone. You clink around some pans, prepare the octopus meat and the batter and get to work. You can’t overhear him talking to anyone with all the noise you’re making, you almost want to apologize for being so noisy.

Your mind settles on thinking about how beautiful he is, how strong he looks, how easily he could overpower anyone… especially you. The thought makes you squeeze your thighs together, it shouldn’t, but holy hell it does.

Out of the corner of your eye you see him come into the kitchen, you immediately start to berate yourself for thinking that way about him. He’s a hero, he would never be interested in something like that with someone like you.

“I think the phone is down, do you maybe have a- a cell phone i could use?” He seems almost ashamed of the question, it makes your chest ache.

“Shit, that line is always being funny. I’m sorry, but I left my cell this morning.” You say, flipping the takoyaki around in their tray so they’ll cook evenly.

“I live just across the street though, I can run and grab it while you eat.” You say, desperate to help him in any way you can.

I know you’re just across the street.

He just shakes his head and bunches his cape in his fists, a very faint blush spreads across his cheeks and it makes your heart do summersaults.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, you’re already doing t-too much for me. You don’t need to make the extra t-trip, I can just call my boss when I’m home”

“Really, it’s not too much, if you’re worried about the extra trip you can just walk me home and use it when we get there. I imagine you would need to call as quickly as possible and get somebody on patrol now that you’re off.” You say, catching yourself a little when you sound too desperate.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable?” As he talks, he shuffles so he can press himself up into the corner of the kitchen, almost looking like he wants to melt into the wall.

“Well, considering your occupation is literally saving people, I definitely don’t feel uncomfortable, it’s not like you’re some crazy kidnapper.” You chuckle a little as you plate up the takoyaki. You try not to give attention to the twisted thoughts that enter your mind when you mention the kidnapping, pushing down the desire to be taken away from the colorless life you live.

If you only knew how badly I want to take you, to have you, keep you…

“I guess you have a p-point.” He says, taking the plate with a soft thank you. He starts stuffing his face with the spheres of breaded octopus immediately, letting a small content sigh leave his body.

“This is incredible, thank you, um, can I ask what your n-name is?” That damn stutter is going to turn your bones to jelly.

You say your name quietly, he responds by repeating it back to you, like he’s checking the pronunciation. You just nod as you open the fridge and pull out a gallon of green tea so you can pour him a glass.

“T-Tamaki, my name’s Tamaki Amajiki.” He says with his shy voice.

A warm, invasive feeling spreads through you. You have to remain calm, pretend that his real name is news to you, pretend that you haven’t spent hours searching through fanfictions listed under that name.

You chat as he finishes his food, thanking him as he mumbles compliments about you cooking in between bites. It doesn’t take long for him to take down the plate. He thanks you over and over as you clean the rest up. He stays glued to his spot in the corner until you take your apron off and hang it on the rack with the others.

“Alright, let’s get you to that phone.” You say as you grab your keys off the hook and switch the lights off.

When you turn to look at him the breath is stolen from your lungs immediately. He looks so celestial in the dark, somehow glowing in the dark. He’s stunning, he’s perfect, he’s painfully out of your league. You remind yourself of that last fact in order to still your nerves.

You turn on your heels and walk towards the door as quickly as you can without seeming rushed. He follows silently, the heavy sound of his thick cloak floating around him makes the hair on your neck stand up. He even sounds powerful.

After you exit the building, he stands with his back to you as you lock the door. His stance is protective, surveying the streets around you like a real hero. You can’t let it go to your head, it’s not for you specifically, he would do this for anyone, it’s his job.

The walk to your house isn’t really uncomfortable, but it is tense. The energy between you is painfully obvious, just not to each other. You both want to speak, ask about each other, know each other, but neither has the guts to make the first move.

While you walk, Tamaki’s head is constantly on a swivel, and he stays so very close to you. It makes your chest ache, the feeling of being so safe next to such an intimidating man. Nobody would dare approach you with him next to you. You would damn near kill to have this all the time, if not all the time at least as often as possible.

You arrive at your house after not even two minutes of tension filled strolling. Silently, cautiously, you both enter your home after you unlock the door.

"It's so cozy." Tamaki says immediately upon seeing all of the soft lights and pastels that make up your decor. He’s nearly trembling with excitement from finally being able to see inside your little world. After watching from the outside for so long, he can finally learn more about you.

"Oh, thanks, I try to keep it soft looking in here. It helps me decompress after a day at a busy restaurant." You explain, setting your keys in their dish before leading him down the hallway to the kitchen.

The house is nothing special, a simple little single bedroom, one story with a relatively open floor plan. It’s small but easy to afford and keep clean. It works for you.

“I’ll go grab the phone from my room, feel free to sit down.” You say, gesturing at the two chairs on either side of your tiny breakfast nook.

He just nods quietly, taking small glances around the rest of your house. You find his hypervigilance charming. It makes you feel incredibly secure to know he’s so aware of his surroundings.

You walk off to your bedroom then, leaving him to stand in your dimly lit kitchen.

Instantly, his eyes zero in on the laundry basket full of clothes that’s sitting on your counter. His body moves without his mind’s permission, his heart thrums in his chest once he catches something pink and lacy.

He can’t help but think you’ve done it on purpose, like you’re some spider sitting up in your web waiting for a poor little bug to stumble along and get all caught up. He’s more than willing to be that bug, and so desperate to get caught up.

He grabs the fabric quickly, as it unravels in his hands he sees what it is and his breathing stops.

It’s a pair of underwear, your underwear.

His fingers go all twitchy as he shoves his hood off to expose his pointed ears, wanting to be able to hear your footsteps.

He brings the panties and takes a deep breath in.

They’re not clean.

He has to choke back the noise that threatens to escape when he finally smells the intoxicating aroma. You smell so fucking sweet. His body reacts instantaneously, goosebumps raise on his flesh as he’s dick twitches in his pants.

God he feels dirty, but why should he? You lead him in here, after cooking for him and being so kind. You left this little gift out for him, you had to know what you were doing.

The sound of soft footsteps jolts him back to reality. He shoves the underwear deep into one of his pockets, he’ll keep them as long as he can, preferably forever.

“Sorry it took me a minute, I’m constantly misplacing everything. One of those ‘lose my head if it wasn’t attached to me’ kind of people.” You give a half hearted laugh, which he returns with a cute little chuckle as he takes your phone.

“Oh sorry about the laundry, I’m a bit of a mess today.” Hot embarrassment fills you as you grab the basket of dirty clothes off the counter and hoist it onto your hip.

“Don’t be sorry, you weren’t expecting any visitors.” He assures you, voice soft and soothing.

“I’ll run this to my room and give you some privacy.” You say, turning once again to leave him alone.

As soon as you’re out of the room his shoulders drop and he lets out a quaking breath. Having you so close after filling his mind with your smell pushed him to the very limit. He wants to grab you and lay you out on the counter, rip your pants off and shove his face between your thighs. He wants to drown in every smell and taste you can offer him. He wants to gorge himself on your sweet little cunt.

He can’t think straight. He’s fully hard, his skin is boiling and his mind is fuzzy. He has to get out of here, he has to get to somewhere hidden, Somewhere he can fuck his fist and think of playing with your soft body. Maybe, just maybe, if he stuffs your panties in his mouth he can taste a trace of you.

When you return he says a very quick goodbye, says something about stopping by your shop again so he can see you again. He doesn’t know for sure what words he uses, he’s too focused on getting out before you notice his erection, before you smell the shame wafting off of him in thick waves.

He has to go before he makes a mistake, before he ruins all of his plans.

You follow him to the door to let him out, bidding him goodnight with your gentle, enchanting voice.

You’ll never know that the phone at the restaurant worked fine, that he never even had to call Fatgum. You’ll never know that he stole from you, that he almost lost it and took you home with him. You won’t ever know that he’s not going home now that he’s left your home.

Urgently, he swoops around the corner of your house, heading straight for your bedroom window. His pants feel so tight it’s maddening, he’s frantic, he’s slipping.

As soon as he reaches the bedroom window, his favorite window, he slumps against the building with one arm as the other shoots down to his pants. He takes a quick glance around, noting that the lights in the surrounding buildings are all out given the hour.

He should be safe.

Then you walk into your room, the image of you is distorted slightly by the white sheers you have up, but only slightly, only enough to make you look like some fuzzy apparition.

She uses these curtains on purpose, she wants me to see.

You have no interest in showering tonight, now exhausted and confused. Did you say something wrong? Why did he take off like that? He did say he would see you tomorrow, though, which gives you a bubbly feeling.

You strip your clothes off, and it shreds Tamaki’s last ounce of self control.

You little fucking tease.

You undress until you’re left in your simple white underwear.

Tamaki’s hand is in his pants the second you crawl into bed. He grabs his aching length, thumbing at his head as he watches you shuffle around in the blankets. His mouth waters when he sees your collar bones, his breath hitches when he sees the way your stomach rolls when you sit. He starts to stroke himself slowly when you leave one leg out of your blankets.

His chest rises and falls rapidly as he remembers the precious gift in his pocket.

He snatches the panties out as he watches you move, as he zeroes in on the meat of your thigh. He shoves the fabric of the crotch into his mouth and bites. He bites your panties like he wants to bite your delicious looking legs.

His hand jerks more rapidly as the faintest flavor spreads across his tongue. His cheeks are pink and his eyes start to tear up as he trembles from the euphoria of knowing you this intimately. His hips thrust into his fist as he claws at the panites, pulling the fabric tight as he watches you drift off to sleep.

His mind races through every possible way he would take you. How he would ruin and claim every inch of you. The idea of you shaking beneath him, moaning his name so sweetly, begging him to keep going, maybe begging him to stop, it makes him want to break down the window.

He tongues at your panties, wishing he could swallow your slick. He feels so unbelievably envious of the fact that the fabric in his mouth has been so close to your perfect little hole. The thing he wants to taste the most, feel the most, fuck the most.

His hand tightens around his dick as he tries to imagine how tight you would feel around him. He rips your panties out for just a brief second so he can spit down into his palm, wrapping it around his cock the second the spit reaches his skin.

“Shit- fuck- shit- fucking love you.” He chokes out as his eyes stay locked on your body.

Once the panties are back in his mouth, the free hand flattens against the window.

Then you shift, hips rolling gently as you adjust your position, exposing your cute little ass to him.

“Slut- bad little slut.” He huffs out as he claws at the window. He feels his balls start to seize up as he focuses on his swollen head, fucking it as fast as he can whle he imagines you with your head buried in the pillows as you stick your ass in the air for him.

He tears the panties out of his mouth and holds the crotch of them in front of his dick, drool slips over his bottom lip as he lets out a high, broken moan while he starts to spill into them.

His body quakes and shivers as he squirts rope after rope of hot cum into his stolen prize. Tears wet his cheeks while drool soaks his chin as he strokes himself through his climax.

He chants your name over and over again, watching the way his seed ruins your pretty little panties. In his orgasmic haze, he brings the panties back to his mouth full of his own release, he laps it up as he eyes roll to the back of his head, pretending he’s made you cream yourself, pretending he’s tasting you instead.

It’s filthy, it’s depraved, but he doesn’t care, he needs it, he’d die without it. He swallows the rest of his own cum down with a greedy whine as he watches your perfect form lay there so peacefully.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there, how many more times he fucks his hand while he watches you sleep, only to leave himself covered in sweat and cum and shame. Somehow, he finds himself walking away, as much as it hurts, he knows he can't indulge himself all night.

Once he’s finally home, he collapses, body buzzing and addicted. He sleeps with your soiled panties clutched in his fist. He wakes up with one thought on his mind, he needs more.

[ahtsumu]

the mystery of love ; kuroo tetsurou

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x f!reader

synopsis: kuroo tetsurou does not believe in soulmates. he believes in science, himself, and sometimes other people. but that doesn’t mean he can’t believe in love.

tag(s): sweet summer lovin’, friends to lovers, inspired by call my by your name, university student!kuroo tetsurou, lab intern!kuroo tetsurou, so much pining lol, fluff, angst, slow burn ; warning(s): profanity, mentions of alcohol ingestion (it’s legal bc they’re in italy!), suggestive themes ; wc: 4.8k

a/n: happy birthday tetsu!! i hope you guys like this. i really enjoyed writing it ♡

Kuroo Tetsurou does not believe in soulmates. He believes in science, himself, and sometimes other people. At least, that’s what he tells you. Sometimes you treat this information as a source of hope; other times, you’re not sure what to make of it.

This, you realise with his shoulder pressed against yours and both your bodies sprawled across his wrinkled bed sheets, is one of those other times. You turn your face to look at his.

“What?” he asks, one side of his mouth curling up in a smile.

For a moment, you wonder what would happen if you just said it. You could blame the alcohol. Get away with it scot-free. While you mull the option over in the dead silence of his room, your brain suddenly registers the music still playing from the living room. The low bass reverberating through the walls. How close your lips are. The sound of his breaths.

“Earth to Y/N?”

And like that, the little what-if that rose in your mind falls back with its tail between its legs. You bite your lip, look around his room like the walls have a script printed on them. Unfortunately, they do not.

“I was just thinking about my shirt.” It’s not great, but it’s the best you can do while still feeling the vodka and orange juice burn in your stomach. And smelling it on yourself.

Kuroo’s laugh booms through the room and you can’t help but giggle along with him. “I said I was sorry!” he says, hazel eyes twinkling with mirth. He pauses and glances at his closet, then nods his head in its direction. “Take a hoodie. Your pick.”

A smile–– one you try to downplay but fail miserably to–– creeps up your face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo replies. “You can also shower here if you want. It's the least I can do after spilling my drink all over you.”

When you emerge from Kuroo’s bathroom in one of his thinner hoodies, a lot soberer and drying your hair, he’s not on the bed anymore. Quietly, you step out of his room and look for him through the house. People are crashed everywhere–– on the sofa, over the kitchen counter, even propped up against walls. The floor is covered with plastic cups and mysterious pools of liquid. Wrinkling your nose, you try your best to step around the messes, looking in every corner in the house for the raven-haired boy.

You find him back in his room, actually. He’s back on his bed scrolling through his phone, the light illuminating his sharp features. When he hears you close the door behind you, he looks up, eyes immediately zeroing in on the black hoodie over your torso. The corner of his mouth twitches up.

“Where’d you go?” you both ask at the same time. He chuckles; you grin. Crawling back onto the bed, you tell him to go first.

“I went around to make sure nothing’s broken,” he explains. “Perks of being the only sober intern in the house, I guess.”

A beat passes.

This house is rented. You forgot about that. All his expenses are paid for by your mother’s lab. You forgot about that. He fits in your world so well, like maybe he’s always had a spot there, that you forgot that Kuroo Tetsurou is only here for the summer.

“Right.”

Kuroo raises a brow. “And you?”

“I went to look for you.”

He smiles and holds his hands out like a magician at the end of a trick. “Well, you found me.”

“Yeah,” you muse. “I guess I did.” Aren’t you lucky.

With that, something shifts in the air. A contemplative expression crosses Kuroo’s face. Maybe he’s realised how his words come out sometimes. Kuroo often says things that sound like they have more than one meaning and it used to throw you off, but now you just go with it. You’ve even picked up that habit yourself. “Do you ever wish that you’d met someone earlier? Maybe under different circumstances?” he asks.

Sighing, you fall back against his mattress and stare up at the ceiling. Telling the truth feels easier when you can’t see him. “Yeah. All the time.” A few seconds pass. “Do you think we would’ve been friends if we went to the same college?”

He also lies down. You’re both back in the same positions you were in an hour ago, but something’s changed. “No,” he admits. You’re not surprised–– that’s what you’d expected. “I’d be a junior and you’d be a freshman. We probably would’ve never met. And even if we had, I wouldn’t be caught dead hanging out with a… freshie.” He chuckles softly at the end. “And look at me now,” he adds softly, more to himself than you. You look over at his face. A contemplative smile rests on his lips.

That urge to just say it returns.

“Kuroo, I think––”

“You’re my favourite p–– oh, my bad. You first.”

And it goes away again.

“Um, uh,” you stutter, “how long do you have left here?”

Kuroo raises his brows. “On this planet? Hopefully a while, Y/N.” He sees your unamused expression and drops the front. “Three more weeks.”

Your eyes widen. Eight weeks have already passed. Blood rushes to your ears. Eight entire weeks have already passed, meaning that in three weeks, Kuroo Tetsurou will leave forever. And in four, you will, too. Except you’ll come back. You’ve done so every summer since you were born, probably will do until you die.

But this place will never be the same as it used to. Not after him.

“Y/N?” Once everything comes back into focus, you see the concern riddling his features. “Everything okay?”

“Hmm? Yeah.”

Say it.

“You didn’t have too much to drink, right?”

Say it.

“I just got buzzed. What about you?”

“The only drink I was planning on having all went to your shirt.”

Say it.

“Kuroo.”

“Yeah?”

Not yet.

“Let’s go on an adventure.”

At two AM, everything is different. The streets feel different, the villas look different, and you–– you can’t put your finger on it but Kuroo Tetsurou has changed, too. He sits behind the wheel of your father’s white 1953 Cadillac with the convertible roof down, unruly hair blown back by the breeze, a euphoric grin stretched over his face. In the passenger’s seat, you sit with an equally large beam and your hands raised into the dark sky.

“Where to, Miss?” he shouts over the wind.

“The stars,” you shout back with a laugh. Kuroo’s cat-like eyes briefly flit over to your side profile, lips curving to form a smaller, more tender smile. But you miss that–– your gaze falls on him just a second after his return to the road.

“I heard you say Jack’s,” he says, smirking.

The 24/7 diner sticks out like a sore thumb in the row of sun-baked stucco and stone buildings with its bold neon lights and shiny exterior. During the day, it seems gaudy, way too American for a small town in northern Italy. But at night, this place feels like home. You’ve been stumbling into Jack’s completely shit-faced since you were sixteen. Of course, all those other times had been with the kids of your mother’s coworkers. All those other times, you could hardly remember what you even ordered when you woke up hours later.

But this time, you walk in with Kuroo Tetsurou at half-past-two in the morning, the chemicals running through your bloodstream epinephrine and dopamine, not ethanol; if you’re drunk then it’s on a feeling and your only poison is the boy next to you. You study his face and consider that thought. No, he’s not poison. He’s the antidote.

“Y/N!” the server exclaims, rushing over with two menus. “And Kuroo! My two favourite customers, but together this time!” Giovanni ushers you two to a booth by the window and takes your orders, purely for show, of course. He knows your orders by heart: the Lorenzo for Kuroo and the Quentin for you.

“With fries on both, please,” Kuroo adds, throwing you a wink. “Aren’t I a gentleman?”

“You only did that to have more for yourself,” you reply drily. Having him over at your house for dinner every night made picking up his idiosyncrasies so unbelievably easy. You know them like they’re your own. You know him like he’s your own.

Kuroo clutches his chest and pretends to be offended, then changes the conversation to what happened at the lab today, or rather, yesterday. That your mother and the other researchers are so close to finding a cure for the strain of virus that’s recently hit crickets in southern Italy.

“You should drop by again sometime,” he says. “Last time you came around was, what, two weeks ago?”

Your face breaks in a grin. “Are you saying you’ve missed me? Chemistry getting boring?” you tease, drawing a loud laugh from him.

“Sodium hydrogen, you little shit.” Your mother’s used this one on you before, but hearing it from him makes you giggle anyway.

Giovanni comes back with two plates, each loaded with fries. You both say your thanks and he retreats to the kitchen again, but not before wiggling his eyebrows at your reddening faces. Wordlessly, you grab your fork and knife and transfer at least half of your fries onto Kuroo’s plate. Kuroo stares at you with the slightest smile. That look sends your stomach into flips.

“What?” you question nonchalantly, cutting into your burger.

“Nothing,” he says, mirroring your actions. “Nothing at all.”

It’s hard to imagine that after spending almost every day together for eight weeks straight that there’s still more to learn about each other, but there is. You tell him more about your real home. Your best friend who called you at 3 AM last night because of timezones. Stories from every summer before this one, when you were a different person in the same place you are now.

He tells you more about Kenma, his best friend from high school. How they played on one of the best volleyball teams in Japan. Stories from training camp, literature class, the metro ride home after school–– you listen to every single one in rapt attention. There’s not enough time in the world for all the things you want to know about Kuroo Tetsurou, so you take what you can get. If only you’d known him before you’d known him.

“If we’d met earlier here, do you think we would’ve been friends?” you ask after paging Giovanni for the check.

“No,” he replies, picking up a few remaining fries with his fork instead of his fingers. The corners of your mouth turn up. That’s your thing. He considers the scenario seriously. “I think we met right when we should have.”

“What about the future?” you press, leaning into the conversation. “Let’s say we meet in two years here, instead of now. Would we be friends?”

Kuroo sets his fork down, eyes you steadily. “What’s this about?”

You blink. “What?”

“What’s with all these hypotheticals today?” Perhaps worried that he came off too harshly, Kuroo adds, “I thought I was the scientist.”

“I just… it feels like I’ve known you since forever.” This feels like it was meant to be, you don’t say. And I want to know you forever.

A sigh–– fond, but still a sigh–– blows through his lips. “Don’t tell me you believe in soulmates,” he says with a wicked grin.

“Are you calling me your soulmate?” The question, shamelessly genuine, painfully hopeful, leaves your mouth without you intending it to and you regret it instantly. Because Kuroo Tetsurou has told you many times that he does not believe in soulmates.

Is it so bad to dream, though?

You watch him carefully but he doesn’t say anything, just continues smiling wryly like you’d intended to tease him. Like he knows that you know better. But you don’t.

“Are you?” he suddenly replies. Sharp eyes hold yours, daring you to respond. Do you dare?

At that moment, Giovanni returns with the check. “Who’s paying?” he asks, unaware of the tense exchange that just occurred across the table. Inaudibly, you sigh in relief. Kuroo is about to say that it’s on him when he catches himself in the middle of his sentence, looks your way, then back to Giovanni. He says you’ll go Dutch. You nod in approval.

“So,” Kuroo drawls once you’ve both paid for your meals. “Where do we go from here?”

Good question.

Kuroo Tetsurou has never been to an outdoor club period. And though he’s been clubbing, he has never once gone dancing in his lifetime. You tell him that’s about to change as he parks the car in a lot near the venue. Before him, all your summer nights were spent here.

“You’ve been here for two months and you haven’t been to an outdoor club yet?” you ask while unbuckling your seatbelt. That can’t be possible. If you’d been in his shoes… an attractive college student in a foreign country for the summer, you would have gone wild.

“Nope. I’ve been a little busy, y’know, spending my days in a lab, handling chemicals, studying viruses, washing lab equipment, writing up reports for your mother and her colleagues, working on my own research on the side… the usual.” He flashes you a bright, sarcastic smile.

“Poor baby,” you coo, ruffling his hair. Kuroo laughs while you continue messing with the dark locks. “Was your first full day here the only tourist-day you’ve had so far?” His weekends, you already know, are spent either lounging around cafés, pools, or the great outdoors with you or the interns. But you’d assumed he’d had time to do some exploring on his own.

Kuroo nods. “And my guide wasn’t even that great,” he mutters, shooting you a dark look. “She sped through every attraction and hardly spoke a word outside of the tour to me. I think she hated me.”

You giggle and open the door, letting the music from the outdoor speakers infiltrate the bubble inside your car. “Maybe she was just nervous!” you say as you get out. That’s a lie.

“About what?” Kuroo follows suit, the gravel crunching beneath his feet. “I was so friendly to you and you just brushed me off each time.” He pouts.

But you don’t reply. Instead, you just grab his hands and pull him towards the venue. As you step into the boundaries marked by fairy lights and rustic wooden fences, Kuroo stops in his tracks and tugs on your intertwined hands. You glance down before up, trying to memorise how his hand looks around yours in the few seconds you can steal.

“Y/N,” Kuroo says. The strobe lights paint his skin pink, blue, purple like it’s a canvas. “Tell me why you were nervous.” Grammatically, it’s a command. And yet it sounds like he’s begging.

“What’s it mean to you?” you ask, feeling your heartbeat speed up in your chest. So what if you just… said it? What would happen?

“Everything?” he replies with a cheeky smile. The odds that he seriously means that are slim. But… they’re there. You shake that possibility out of your mind. That’s just the hope talking.

“Depends how convincingly you say it.” You tug on his arm. “C’mon. Let’s dance.” But he doesn’t budge–– he just continues to stand by the entrance of the club with an expectant look on his face. People are starting to stare.

“Fine,” you say with an eye roll. “I’ll tell you." Kuroo smirks, something self-congratulatory ready to leave his mouth, but then you let go of his hand and dance backwards into the throng of moving bodies. “But first, you’re gonna have to dance with me!” 

You allow yourself to be swallowed by the lively music, the people, the moment. Seconds later you’re deep enough into the crowd that you lose sight of Kuroo. Something in you says that he’ll show up soon, though. For now, you let yourself breathe. Forget about the heaviness of what-if’s, the itch to confess, the dread of the aftermath. Feelings are a lot like gravity. Sometimes they keep you grounded, other times, they weigh you down. This is one of those other times.

You dance up to a friendly-looking group of teens your age. Three guys and two girls. You shout your name and follow up with how it’s nice to meet them, hoping one of them finds you nice enough to keep around. Dancing alone in a club is one of the worst things that can ever happen to someone. Luckily, one of the girls–– the one wearing a purple wig–– pulls you in for a hug, drunkenly shouting back, “Bianca!” Bianca pushes you into their circle next to one of the guys and, just like that, you two start moving to the beat, feeling it in your feet, shoulders, hips. At one point, you turn around and take a good look at his face. The guy’s cute enough, but he’s not Kuroo. Still, you say nothing as he moves closer to you and grabs your hand, lifting it up and motioning for you to twirl.

Suddenly, a pair of hands grip firmly onto your waist and pull you out of the circle. “Hey!” You look down, suddenly realising they’re Kuroo’s. A shiver runs down your spine. He spins you around to face him. His lips are set in a firm line, eyes completely devoid of humour, nostrils slightly flared.

“Hi,” you say quietly, testing the waters.

“Hi,” he replies curtly. His hands are still on your waist. Selfishly, you choose not to point that out. Instead, you try to defuse the situation with a light question. Playful tone.

“Where were you this whole time?”

“Looking for you.”

“Well… you found me.” You flash him a sheepish grin. A peace offering of some sort.

“I did.” He doesn’t take it.

“Lucky you.”

Irritation finally seeps through his features. “You just left me on the dance floor!” he snaps. “And then when I find you after searching the entire venue, you’re dancing up on some random guy!”

“It was in good fun!” you retort, wriggling out of his grip. “And I wasn’t dancing up on him.” You want to ask if he’s jealous so badly, but you take a good look at his face and decide against that.

“Fun?” he asks incredulously. “Worrying about losing you, worrying about myself getting lost, then having to worry about that guy after finding you isn’t very fucking fun to me, Y/N!” The words fly out of his mouth like daggers without pause. Once finished, he looks at you with a disappointed gaze, shaking his head lightly, chest rising and falling with each heavy breath.

“I’m sorry,” you say, looking down at your shoes. It doesn’t matter if you disagree with him–– a sort of shame drills itself so deeply into your conscience that all you can think about is making things right again. “I didn’t think my actions through.”

A second passes. You wonder what he’s thinking.

“Hey, look at me.” Kuroo lifts your chin up with an index finger. Your wide eyes meet his narrow ones. Just as a pink beam glides over his face, his gaze softens, falls down to your lips. And then you feel his thumb on your chin, barely grazing the skin of your bottom lip. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down. The revelry in the background fades to dull beats against your eardrums. Suddenly, you register that he smells of, as usual, blackcurrant and amber.

But now you also smell of blackcurrant and amber.

You’re wearing his clothes. You smell of him.

Kuroo’s eyes crawl back up to yours, wide like he’s just been caught in the middle of a crime. You blink expectantly, ignoring the furious way your heart pounds in your chest. Shallow breaths puff through your slightly parted mouth.

“I am.” It comes out barely a whisper. C’mon. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me––

You gently touch the hand he has on your chin. Kuroo jolts back like he’s been burned. “I’ll, uhm, I’ll be in the car,” he stutters, looking away from your face. He pushes through the sea of people, leaving you all alone on the dance floor, body doused in blue light, fingers touching the area his thumb had been as if preserving its print.

Kuroo hardly notices you slip into the passenger’s seat minutes later. He’s got his forearms hanging over the steering wheel and gaze fixed ahead into the darkness, mind probably running off to a place he wishes his body was, too.

As soon as you’ve buckled yourself in, Kuroo starts the car.

The entire drive home is silent.

Once Kuroo pulls into your courtyard and parks, he turns off the engine, unbuckles his seatbelt, and steps out of the car. Wordlessly, you follow his actions and meet him by the stairs to your door.

“Hi,” you say quietly. He doesn’t look at you.

“Hey.”

The two of you stand outside your front door in silence as you both consider what to say next. This can’t be the way it ends.

“I shouldn’t have… done that,” Kuroo says first.

“Done what?” You choose to play dumb. Call it selfish, but you want to hear him say it. Maybe then it’ll feel as real as it had been. Kuroo sighs and leans his shoulder against the stone wall, crossing his arms over his chest. There’s no way he can dance around what happened. Perhaps the past two months can be summed up as the development of a strong friendship with skilled doublespeak and metaphors and just enough artistic licence, but this can’t. And Kuroo knows that. He can’t feed you an alternative truth like he’s done so many times before. What’s more, he can’t lie to himself anymore. So maybe it’s better just to not speak at all.

Your eyes burn holes into the side of his face. Fine. You’ll concede first. “I was never nervous.”

Kuroo blinks, turns his head around to look at you. “What?”

“I was never nervous. I was playing it cool because I didn’t want to risk befriending you and getting attached.” I’m still playing it cool, you don’t say. And I’m already attached. “Guess I just came off as a bitch instead.” You laugh. “But can you blame me? You were this cute, older guy. Smart, too, since you were interning with my mom. You were my dream guy.”

An amused breath blows out of his nose. “Were?” he questions, grinning, only remembering the fragility of your platonic relationship a second later. “Um––”

“Are.” It slips out of your mouth without you realising. Fuck. Kuroo stills. It’s too late to take back your words now, so you might as well just keep going. “You still are my dream guy.”

Seconds pass and neither of you says anything. Sweat gathers in the palms of your hands. You start to feel your heartbeat through your neck. The buzz of the cicadas grows louder. Oppressive. Behind Kuroo, the sky is starting to turn pale blue and pink in the horizon. That means it’s almost sunrise. The night is almost over, and, hopefully, so is this awful conversation.

“And… you don’t feel the same.” Funnily, you feel like you’re lying. You’re telling Kuroo how he feels and you think you’re lying. Does that make sense? None of this night even feels real. God, you hope this has all just been a dream. Mustering a soft smile, you say, “That’s okay. Thank you for the party. And the adventure.” It was fun while it lasted. You feel the house key in your pocket and turn to unlock the door. “I hope this doesn’t change anything between us, Kuroo. Can we still be friends?” The words leave your mouth feeling like barbed wire. You know damn well you can’t still be friends.

And suddenly, you feel his calloused hands around your cheeks. Suddenly, his hot breath fans over your face.

“Can I kiss you?” he murmurs.

Your eyes close instantly. “Yes, please.”

And suddenly, his soft lips are on yours.

Kuroo breaks the kiss seconds later. “Fuck,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours, touching the tips of your noses together. “Y/N, I don’t want to be friends. Fuck.” A dry chuckle leaves his mouth. He pauses to collect his thoughts but decides that that can wait. Instead, he presses another kiss to your lips so fervently that he backs you up against the wall with no space between your bodies. You wonder if he can feel your heartbeat like this, chest to chest. Kuroo’s hands travel down your waist and rest on your hips. His tongue runs across your tongue, your teeth, the insides of your mouth. You gently suck on it, drawing a satisfied moan from him. When the kiss ends, you see that his lips are red and cheeks are swollen. A warm feeling spreads through your chest. “I thought I could be happy just being friends with you but I can’t. I want you so bad it hurts. Not to mention, when I saw you in my hoodie?” His fingers pinch the material. “I thought God was testing me or some shit.”

“Sure didn’t feel like you wanted me that way,” you retort, still breathless.

“In my defence,” Kuroo says, thumbs tracing your cheekbones, “I was very scared.”

“Of what?”

It looks like he’s about to tell you, but he changes his mind and doesn’t answer. He grabs your hand and pulls you back to the car with a cheeky grin. “I’ll tell you only if you tell me where we can watch the sunrise.”

Kuroo holds your hand, stroking your thumb the entire drive there.

After a short hike, you plop down on the grassy hillside, supporting your body with outstretched arms in the back. Kuroo sits down beside you with one of his hands covering yours, fingers intertwined like a honeysuckle vine around a hazel tree. You tell him that you grew up running along this hill with your parents. It used to be your playground. Maybe, you think, it’s time to make new memories here.

“Beautiful,” Kuroo breathes, a wonderstruck look in his eyes. The sun’s just risen halfway above the pink and blue horizon, the saturated orange casting the entire city below gold. It’s not just the city, though. He’s also gold. He’s just as beautiful. You watch him with a soft smile on your lips, noting how his wide eyes and slack jaw return to normal as he stares off into the distance. After resting your head on his shoulder, you fix your eyes on the sunrise ahead. You wonder what he’s thinking so quietly about.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you finally ask once the sun has finished revealing itself.

Kuroo blinks, returning to reality, but continues to stare straight ahead. “I was just thinking about… soulmates.”

You lift your head off his shoulder. “Don’t tell me you believe in soulmates now,” you tease.

“Hmm.” He turns to look at you, the sun turning his hazel eyes the colour of honey. That same wry smirk from Jack’s returns to his face.

“You wanna know why I was so scared?”

“Pray tell.”

“Because I’ve never felt this way towards anyone.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“No,” Kuroo laughs, laying his head down in your lap, looking up into your eyes. “I’m serious. I used to purposely stay away from girls in high school. Same in college. Same all the way until you somehow wormed your way into my life. That’s why we wouldn’t have been friends.” You cock your head to the side.

“Why?” you ask, running your fingers through his hair.

Kuroo’s eyelids flutter shut. He inhales deeply before talking. “My parents are divorced. The years before the divorce were… very ugly.” 

(He spares you the details of the midnight arguments, the smashed plates, the holes in the walls. He spares you the details of how he only ever knew how to fall asleep with his head sandwiched between two pillows, how he hasn’t seen his sister in a decade, how he’ll curse and snap but never yell because he always feels like a child again around the noise. That’s for another time, if you’ll have any.) 

“I still remember all the fighting and yelling. For the longest time, that’s all I knew about marriage and relationships.”

“Did you think all relationships were like that? Fighting and yelling?” you ask.

“For a while, yeah. I’m still a little scared of that, to be honest. Ending up in a relationship where all you do is fight.” Kuroo sighs. “But that’s not the only thing. I thought I wouldn’t know how to love someone, growing up like that.” At that, your fingers pause in his hair.

“Wait,” you say, furrowing your brows. A wave of immense sadness (not for yourself, for him) washes over you. “You think you wouldn’t know how to love someone else?”

“Thought.” Kuroo cracks open his eyes and smiles up at you. “I’m in the process of changing my mind.”

[lunarflux]

"i felt your arms reach for help, and not a muscle in my body could keep me from holding onto you so tightly"

lee felix x reader

genre — fluff!au

tw: suggested abusive relationship

suggested background music: x

note: i like to put a bit of my life into my writing - i had a dream the other night that i saw my abusive ex and hid behind a member of skz lol

You never usually went out on the weekends. It's always been that way. Maybe once a month, you'd entertain the occasional invite out for dinner and drinks, but it had been a while since you'd gone out so casually with your small group of friends.

Clubs were always dark, and you were never the type to run into the crowd. So there you stood by the bar, watching your friends as you nursed your beverage, the sweat from the glass dripping down to the floor. You wanted so badly to have fun, but this just wasn't your scene anymore.

After the departure of your ex-boyfriend, you realized just how much you missed out on. Your friends no longer waited for you because they'd just expected you to say no. It took over a year to realize your relationship had grown toxic, and no partner should ever keep you from experiencing life. Being in a relationship meant sharing a life - not becoming someone else's.

The need to be alone washed over you, remembering the last argument with your ex over reprioritizing your life. To him, friends came second. You just couldn't live like that anymore.

You're free now - and you still haven't adjusted to that feeling.

Club patrons would stand next to you and try to strike up a conversation, but as cold as ever, you avoided their gaze and sipped from the now watered down beverage, still dripping down your hand.

One in particular didn't try to talk to you. In fact, he stood at the bar much like you did, checking his watch, his phone, whatever he could to seem occupied. He glanced at you every now and then. Through the chaotic lights, he'd catch your eye, and he'd smile.

All you could see were the faint hints of the freckles scattered across his cheeks.

After about the fifth time noticing him check his phone, you leaned over. "Did your date bail on you or something?"

He chuckled. "No. I'm just killing time, so my friends stop bugging me about hanging around their apartment so much."

The conversation died as soon as it started, but you two stayed in place. You'd toast with him to every new glass, and then you'd go back to how you were - standing by the bar, killing time.

"y/n - "

Steadying yourself, you looked past your freckled partner only to find a familiar - unwelcome - face.

Staring your ex in the face for the first time in three months, the only thing you could do was stare. Your legs locked in place, and it felt like this club was just another nightmare.

"What are you doing here -" The familiar stranger took a step towards you.

It was a reflex.

All at once, you dropped your glass and found yourself gripping onto the denim sleeve of your drinking partner.

The blonde looked down at you, noticing the vice grip on his arm. He swore he could feel the tension built up within you as you just stood there, holding onto him like a scared child even though he was nothing but a stranger for the night.

Your view changed, and now you were looking at his back. Your drinking partner stood in front of you, his hand holding yours protectively.

"Can I help you?" He said to your ex who merely examined the sight before him like it couldn't possibly be happening.

"You her boyfriend?" Your ex spat with a matching sneer.

"I said, can I help you."

Trying to maneuver around your shield, he laughed, and it was a cruel sound. "So two years just in the fucking trash, and now you've moved onto this guy?"

You whispered into your protector's sleeve. "Please leave."

"Go - " The still nameless blonde nodded his head towards the crowd. "Before I call security for harassment."

"No need." Your ex took a swig of his drink. "You can have her."

The interaction only lasted a minute, but you swore you couldn't breathe. They never tell you about this kind of aftermath from a bad breakup. You were supposed to feel elated that this villain was out of your life after years of over-controlling behavior and manipulation tactics. This was supposed to be your new life.

Still stuck in place, you followed robotically as your protector pulled you up the stairs and out into the street. It was only then that he let go of your hand to cradle your face, wiping away the tears from your cheeks with his thumb.

"Are you okay?"

"I -" You let out an uneasy breath. The fresh air almost hurt to inhale. "Yes, I'm fine. I just didn't.... expect to see him so soon."

"What's your name?"

"y/n"

"y/n, my name is Felix. Have you eaten yet?" He took off his hat and placed it on your head, securing it tightly like it was a new shield to keep you safe.

Shaking your head, you let him lead you down the street to the closest night market. It was a little past midnight, but it was still crowded. Bumping into patrons, Felix grabbed your hand again and led you through the crowd.

Stopping in front of a dessert cart, he guided you to stand next to him. "Well?"

"It's fine, I should go."

Felix squeezed your hand. "Come on. It's late. You're clearly shaken up. I don't think anyone should be alone like that."

He was right though it pained you to admit it. Your fun Friday night went from decent to shit in less than five minutes, and now this handsome freckled stranger was the one to try to comfort you.

"I have a thing about sweets." Felix looked up at the selection of ice cream. "Brownies and ice cream - it's like my comfort food."

"Mine, too." You finally noticed how warm his hand was.

He held up two fingers to the part-time worker before letting go of you to grab both of the treats.

"I can pay you back." You took a spoonful of vanilla. "I'm sorry. I think I ruined your night out."

Felix shook his head, clearly enjoying the frozen treat. "You didn't ruin anything. I'm just sorry your night got cut short because of... your ex, right?"

You nodded quietly. "I'm sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?"

"Well, I - "

"I've only known your name for ten minutes, and you've apologized to me twice already." Felix's freckles were much more visible now, and it suited him. He looked kind, and his smile was bright before softening to concern. "Did he make you feel like you had to apologize for everything?"

Poking your spoon around your ice cream, you couldn't find the words. Felix took your silence as a 'yes.'

"That doesn't seem like any way to treat your girlfriend."

"I mean, some of it might have been my fault - "

Felix interrupted your excuses with a spoonful of chocolate. "Stop."

"But I -"

"- am single now. And I am not him." He grinned again. "So just erase everything he made you feel like you needed to do, and just be in the moment with me. Okay?"

"It was just," you tried to find the words. "I don't know. I haven't done this in a really long time, and I know not everyone is like that. But I don't even really know you."

Felix placed his hand on your head, his smile still comforting and genuine. He pulled you close to him. "Well, I guess we're going to have to change that."

**

It was another Friday night, but now these nights were taken up by Felix dropping by your apartment with freshly baked brownies and a new movie.

He never passed the boundaries of holding hands and hugs. It almost made you wonder how you ended up here with this person who was nothing more than a fellow bar patron at some point.

"Can I ask you something?"

Felix was scooping ice cream onto the brownies. He offered you a spoonful, "What's up?"

The words got caught in your throat again. It's only been two months. You hadn't returned to the club since, and you were finally sleeping well again. It was almost like having Felix kept the nightmares away. Simply knowing he was there did more healing than anything else ever did.

You didn't want to ruin it.

"Never mind." You grabbed your bowl and settled in front of the TV.

Felix looked back at you. Lately, it was like you always started out tense in front of him, and he was dying to know why.

An hour into the movie, Felix finally noticed that you weren't paying attention. Your dessert was left half unfinished which was unusual. You just sat there beside him, staring at the floor.

He poked your cheek before reaching over to pause the movie. "What's on your mind?"

"It's nothing."

"y/n, come on." Felix sighed. "What is it? Are you having nightmares again? Did you see him again?"

It shouldn't feel odd, but you didn't expect him to find you so predictable. "No, I just have a lot on my mind."

"Okay, so tell me."

The silence filled the room again.

"Is this something you can't tell me?"

"That's not it, I just don't know how to tell you -"

"Try!" Felix laughed. "I haven't seen you this speechless since the night we met."

Thinking about that night brought so many mixed feelings. It was like seeing the evil witch and meeting your prince charming all at once. After your ex said those things, it was like something just held you back. It just always seemed too soon to say anything - no matter how much you liked Felix, no matter what he did you help you heal and just be happy. If this is what a relationship is supposed to be like, you didn't know how to operate. This was a book on love you'd never dared to read before.

"It's nothing." You said quietly.

Felix almost looked disappointed. He looked down at the floor, shuffling his feet together. "Should I leave?"

"What? No -"

"I just feel like I'm bothering you."

"You're not bothering me!" You grabbed his hand. There it was again, one of the two romantic gestures that wouldn't be pushed any further.

Felix held your hand gently, stroking your thumb with his. "So do you want to tell me what's on your mind?"

You leaned forward, resting your head against his arm so he couldn't see how flustered you were.

"I just don't know when the right time is."

"Meaning?" Felix had every right to be confused.

"How long is long enough to be over someone and move on?" You kept your head down. You didn't want him to see you crumble like this. You felt so weak and tired at the thought of exposing yourself like this.

You and Felix sat in silence for a moment. His grip on your hand was tighter than usual, but his demeanor was difficult to read.

"Is that what's been bothering you? You don't want me to think you've moved on too quickly?"

You nodded against his arm, still hiding your face.

He pulled you up and into his arms again, holding you securely. He smelled like vanilla and musk today. He hid his face in your neck, and you stayed like that. This was the safest you've ever felt, and being here with him finally stopped that awful feeling of not knowing what it was to want to share your mornings with someone. Felix wasn't a burden. He was the sunshine, and his warmth was your safety.

Taking a deep breath, Felix finally sat upright nodding to himself. "Okay, so let's talk."

"Talk away." You almost giggled at the flush on his cheeks.

He brushed the hair away from your face, keeping hands cupped on the sides of your neck.

"There is no time limit for being ready, okay?"

Felix's eyes stayed on yours.

"If you're over him, then you're over him. Fuck that guy, he was awful. And I know you think that with the timing - meeting me that night - it was a burden, wasn't it? Because there was no way you could ever tell if you were ready or if you'd just found a distraction." Felix smiled softly. "Do you trust me?"

You nodded quietly, eyes feeling awfully heavy.

"Well, I trust you. And I trust you know that this burden of never knowing will go away on its own, okay?"

"I just don't want to hurt you." You tried to pull away with no avail.

Felix released another heavy sigh.

He searched for something in your eyes before making his decision.

His kisses were like his hugs - warm and comforting. He was gentle, rubbing the edge of your face with his fingers. The small pitter-patters of his breath against your cheeks tickled.

Felix kissed you sweetly in silence. The moonlight had already set on the apartment, but he just stayed with you in the moment, feeling like if there was ever a time, it was now.

Leaving a final kiss on the tip of your nose, he sat back.

"Take your time. I'm not going anywhere."

[meryamthebadassbitch]

𝕯𝖎𝖔𝖗 𝖘𝖆𝖚𝖛𝖆𝖌𝖊 & 𝖈𝖎𝖌𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖘// 𝖆 𝕵𝖊𝖔𝖓 𝕵𝖚𝖓𝖌𝖐𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖋𝖚𝖑𝖑 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖞

Listen, bitch, is it fucking bad that I am addicted to 'Daddy Issues by the neighbourhood suddenly got a whole ass fanfic idea on my mind, so here fucking I am, thank you so much for the likes in my other disgusting fanfics and if you would like to share this one with your friend I would be happy since my mother told me if you have more than 55 likes on the next, I'll buy you a BTS t-shirt, I'm NOT FORCING YOU GUYS LOL, thank you and enjoy! oh, I'm planning on writing a Levi book on Wattpad tell me your opinion @meryamchaline45

Based on a song called: Daddy Issues

Warning: Blood, smoking, sexual harassment, daddy issues, mention of death, slight smut, harassment, Thief!Reader, Skategirl!Reader, abuse, abusive parents, parents cheating, ANGST, swearing!!

abusive parents, parents cheating, ANGST!!

(IF YOU DON'T LIKE THIS TYPE OF STUFF, DON'T READ!! don't report this please you have been warned)

Munching the food quietly she thought of nothing but how Seoul looked beautiful at night, a small scoff escaped her lips as she paid for the delicious food, looking at her wallet sighing, no money left. Taking her skateboard she stole a cap and a mask on her way out her E/C eyes immediately wide at the sound of the cashier yelling at her with a bat in his hand about to catch, slamming the door open she ran down the stairs not looking back, the cold breeze hitting her face as she ran grabbing her skateboard she skated between the cars so the man wouldn't catch her.

Her father grabbed her harshly by the hair followed by her skateboard and bag in the other hand, throwing her out of the house in the middle of the streets, every neighbor not even daring to welcome her even though they could see the pain and fear in her E/C eyes, but worst of all they still dared to watch and film her out of the window, I know it must be rough? damn, right it is.

Jungkook was hanging out with his group as usual and it seems like they got out of the café, but stopped brutally upon noticing cops chasing a H/C haired girl and grabbed her, slamming her face harshly against the car in front of them, a wince left the girls lips as she raised her hand in the air as she yelled out some words "it's a water bottle, please !" but the cops didn't seem to care since they cuffed her and decided to take her with them, as they turned around the girl cold eyes met Jungkook's dark brown ones, and that was his opportunity to study her face, she had beautiful H/C hair which was pretty messy, S/C skin, and had blood running down her nose and a cut on the corner of her soft lips, and it seems like she got into a fight for what? a bottle of water.

Watching the scene happening in front of them he stared as one of the cops broke her skateboard in half earning a bloody scream from her. "NO! how dare you!" she yelled with rage in her eyes as she was about to attack the police officer and punch the hell out of him but couldn't since the handcuffs stopped her from doing so but still the girl fell on her knees trying so hard to grab hold of the broken skateboard.

Sitting in front of the police officer she stared into nothing but emptiness; blinking ever so slightly her throat dry and didn't even dare to ask for water, "can I leave?" she asked her voice cracking as she sat on the chair, wanting to just kill herself. Grabbing her bag, phone, and broken skateboard she walked out of the police station to the place where she usually slept, the park.

Surprisingly she got a job the next day, and that is selling some street food with an old woman, the job got pretty handy, well, at least she would have 10$ to eat something and have a single water bottle for the day and not die from hunger, packing some dumplings in the small box she grabbed one of the bags signaling to the women "I'll go take these and will be right back Ajumma?" a small smile was on her lips as she walked away holding the hot food in her hand, the aged women seemed to be caring for her and would always give her some money even though she was poor and more broke than Y/N was, but still considered her as her daughter.

Knocking at one of the doors, she could hear the sound of music blasting and laughter, smiling at the memory of her being the best dancer back at school she opened the door peaking inside, the sight of a group of boys she recognized when getting arrested she handed the pink-haired boy the bag, "Jimin-ah~ you pay this time!" said a brown-haired boy behind him with a boxy smile, Jimin slightly rolled his eyes before smiling brightly at the girl taking his wallet out, a Gucci wallet which looked expensive, not like she wanted to steal it but these boys must be rich.

Bowing one last time, she walked away making sure to thank them and have a good day, "Ajumma, no I can't take them anymore what about you, you need your medicine so keep them besides I'll be okay for one day?" she said pushing them gently with a small smile, nodded Ajumma defeated but still thanked the girl a 100 times. "it was nice working with you, Ajumma, but I think I should go to either Busan or Daegu, I can't stay here anymore or dad will find me and- you know? so I'm gonna need you to go right now to the pharmacy and buy that medicine, we worked so hard for that now go!" she said pushing her gently toward the pharmacy with a small smile, pulling her into one last hug she kissed her forehead before walking away, waving slightly one last time before continuing her 'travel' in search of some way to escape Seoul before her father takes her back once again.

Sitting beside the boy she took his cigarette from his hand throwing it on the ocean in front of her, as he was about to grab another one she threw the box on the water, "so, do you want me to teach you that this mother fucker is a killer?" she said chuckling slightly at how he hated her already for throwing his precious addiction, "anyways, I need your help?" she said out of the blue, Jungkook raised his eyebrow waiting for her to continue her words "we all know you're rich as fuck, and I need you to buy me tickets to Daegu?" listening slightly to her words he took a picture of the couple kissing inside a laundromat with his camera, nodding slowly she almost squealed but stopped upon hearing his next words "in one condition?" "and that is ?" "I'll help you sneak inside my ex-house and go inside her room, to the drawer and there will be my clothes" "fine, when?" she said agreeing with his plan.

Standing in front of his ex house, she nodded at him before starting to climb the windows and could hear the sound of him talking to that girl more like flirting, looking at the window she could see them making out on the couch she had, opening the room window she did as told opening the drawer and grabbing all his stuff, a ripped book, AirPods, music DVDs and laptop looking at the polaroid with Jungkook smiling she stuffed it inside her pocket before looking at the room one last time.

Walking down the empty road beside Jungkook she handed him her bag full of his stuff, "you give it back tomorrow, you know where to find me? stay cool." she said smiling while flicking him off, the maknae staring at the girl with a small smile, this was her way on how to say goodbye or goodnight, the boy slowly waved back taking his keys from his pocket, opening the door of the black mansion greeting his mother on the way who seemed to smile sheepishly at him "who's the girl?" "mom I just met her" Jungkook looked so done as he stared at his mother dumbfounded

Opening the wagon door she ruffled her H/C hair after doing her routine, jumping down the wagon, she closed the door making sure to lock it with padlock, walking down the road she hid behind the wall watching as the man turned around running she grabbed a croissant, hiding it inside her jacket, thank god, he didn't notice and no one seemed to be out yet this neighborhood was always empty. the girl didn't have anything to think of but only the fact that this month was rough, she would eat once a day or not for a week, the asshole of the policeman broke her skateboard her mother got her before passing away and now she's a very famous thief in Seoul, what a beautiful life?

Nah, she always thought of giving up and standing at the edge of one of these buildings surrounding her, letting her body fall and join her mother. but couldn't, she didn't want to die and also promised her mother. Cursing under her breath Y/N limped to the front door of the beautiful black mansion, the door was suddenly slammed open and a woman stood there with wide eyes full of worry, glancing at the H/C haired leg Jungkook's mother immediately pulled her in sitting the girl down, the girl on the other side was shocked 'is this the wrong house? no, I remember JK saying this is his house' she thought confused but could see him coming out of a room holding a box, the boy slowly sat in front of her and started treating her wound out of as she sat there defeated and stared at him, his black curly hair looked so soft and his perfume was just UGH ravishing.

The food in front of her immediately got her attention as she started eating fastly, Jungkook mom laughing slightly at the girl "how many days didn't you eat something delicious?" "2 months, but don't worry- I only ate ramen 2 days ago!" she said munching slightly, Jungkook could see how her E/C eyes showed hope and slight happiness whenever she's eating, the girl was shining slightly than the last time he saw her, she was about to attack a police officer for breaking her skateboard and next was her handing a bag of dumpling to Jimin.

Sitting in front of the pool they had, she slowly took Jungkook's lighter from her pocket she found back in his ex house, playing with it she wrapped his sweater around her waist to great some heat, it was freezing but she needed to clear her mind a little bit, she was thankful of them, they gave her food, treated her wounds, gave her warm comfy clothes and welcomed her to stay with them...

And how much the girl wanted to kiss their hands for that, they made her feel safe after 8 years of the trauma and problematic life she finally felt home. The sound of someone walking behind made her stop from playing with the fire, wiping her head behind she smiled slightly at Jungkook who held a blanket sitting beside her putting the cover around both their bodies suggesting for her to get closer and not be afraid.

The handsome boy slowly handed her the phone back, it was midnight, thanking him she opened her phone, 1 notification, that's odd. Frowning she looked at the boy asking whenever to do it or not, nodding at her she tapped on the notification, her dad.

-------------------------------- 𝘼𝙨𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙚 🖕-------------------------------

Happy birthday Darling, you turned 19, don't worry you're still my little girl right?

Fuck you.

Dad.

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Just before he could even answer her text, she blocked him and deleted his number feeling calm and free, clenching the blanket around her hand she looked away trying not to let her tears fall, not wanting to show her weak side in front of Jungkook who seemed to know the situation and reason why she was cold and wants to run away. His anger was boiling, how dare a dad do this to his daughter? tomorrow was his final day alive he swore to make him pay for what he has done to his daughter. "it's your birthday?" he asked waiting for her to answer the question or at least look at him, 'why am I feeling empty when she's like that?' he thought nudging her shoulder, nodding she looked at him straight in the eyes tears covered her orbs as she stared at him deeply, her walls breaking down as she finally let them fall after staying strong for years.

살아남아야 한다."~Namjoon BTS (방탄소년단) 화양연화

Jungkook stared at her with guilt in his eyes pulling her into his embrace the girl cried quietly in his chest letting it all out. Not even noticing she fell asleep in his arms.

Holding the notebook in her hand, she knocked on the door of his room, hearing a groan behind the door she opened it looking at Jungkook who was fixing his hair, giving him a poker face she closed the door behind looking around his room, "shit, this place is fire" "I know right?!" he said on the other side trying to tie his hair into a ponytail, chuckling slightly she walked toward him standing on her tiptoe, "give it to me" doing as told he handed her the tie, her fingers slowly trailed down his hair sending a shiver down his spine at how cold her hands are, but a small smirk raised on the corner of his lips as his playboy self started showing Jungkook suddenly turned around before she could even finish his hair, landing on top of her his leg between hers as their faces were inches away from each other, his bunny smile on his face as he innocently grinned at her as if nothing happened.

Her eyes were dull and numb, but they lit upon seeing his beautiful smile

Having an amazing plan, she wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him closer as she leaned in, her nose bumping his, with Jungkook staring at her parted lips not pulling away and liking the way how she pulled him closer, his lips so soft that she wanted to kiss them so badly but couldn't, twirling him around it was now her turn to smirk, she was on top of him grinning innocently while ruffling his black hair

"come on, time for dinner"

Walking down the streets of Seoul while listening to some music, she slowly walked into one of the cafes that lined up the street of Seoul. Pushing the door open the little bell at the door jingled when she walked in and the scent of coffee hit her like a truck, this café wasn't crowded and it was one of her favorites, for these past days both the teenagers got closer day by day and still couldn't open up to him yet, it was so hard. and it would be a terrible lie if she doesn't catch feelings for him. "hello, can I get an iced-americano please?" she said looking at the cashier taking out the money from her pocket she slammed it on the counter before making her way toward one of the tables, playing with the flannel shirt she burrowed from Jungkook the girl waited for her order, phone ringing she slowly answered the call

"Hello? are you fucking kidding me what has he done?!" yelled the girl hanging up, slamming the door open the girl ran down the streets

Jungkook on the other side drove in rage toward where her 'father' worked, sitting down on one of the chairs his feet tapping on the ground nervously as he glared at the ground, a man came toward him with a smirk on his face, Breathless with anger, he stood up and immediately punched the man square in the jaw he didn't care about anything at the

moment but to just make him pay for what he did to his daughter.

Dashing down the streets pushing past the people, everyone at first thought that flash just passed by them while it was just a girl running with panic in her eyes, walking inside the police station the H/C haired girl immediately pulling the boy into a hug, tears covering her E/C eyes, as she pushed the strand of hair from his face staring lovingly at him she cupped his cheek looking for any injury. Sighing she glared sharply at her father "you deserved it" she said spitting in his face one last time before walking out of the police station asking Jungkook if he was okay, driving back home in silence the girl thought 'why did he do that?'

Sitting him down she grabbed the first aid kit and some alcohol, it was now her turn to help him, "this will hurt, so grab my hand" sitting down in front of him Y/N gently pressed the cotton on the huge bruise he had in his hand not caring the fact he's hurting her hand due to the pain he felt, "I'm so sorry" she said out of nowhere not even glancing at him, wrapping the bandage around his bruised hand she tried to ignore how bad she wanted to hug him by trying to get up but Jungkook already beat her to it, with one simple fucking move. Cupping her cheek the boy pulled her back down and made her face him stopping her from moving, his hand pressing on her cheeks as his soft fingers caressed her ear sending a shiver down her spine, her legs suddenly became weak as she stared back into his doe eyes, his gorgeous orbs shining under the moonlight like a diamond in the center of a museum was everything for her

His Dior Sauvage perfume only made it worse, it was her favorite scent aside from coffee, she felt giddy and happy whenever she sees him and just want to squeeze him tight and never let go. but now it was her whole body burning like fire

"Y/N please, tell me what is going on and I promise I'll help you with anything?" he said looking at her E/C eyes back and forth still holding her cheek butterflies dancing on her stomach as she stayed silent not wanting to ruin this moment with her fucked up past, she was about to pull him into a kiss, the same feeling kicked in, she just wanted to feel his lips on hers for few seconds was is a hard thing to ask? the sound of the door slamming open made them snap out of their position and fall on the ground.

"dude..."

There stood the boys staring at them awkwardly, coughing she got up wiping her clothes from any dust making her way to her room "wait, Y/N you promised me!" "I'm sorry Tae but I don't feel like playing..." "no, you're coming now sit down" rolling her eyes annoyingly she walked back down and sat on the ground waiting for the boys to follow her movement. Watching as the bottle spun in front of her, the girl breathing hitched upon seeing the green bottle landing on her, slightly panicking she shot a look that could make the bravest of warriors scream in terror, but Tae who didn't seem to care, challenged her "Truth or dare?" "Truth" "what were you both doing when we came in?" "talking duh." her simple sarcastic answer only annoyed Tae more than he was and that made her smirk proudly 'i'm not falling for one of those plans, Taehyung' she thought raising an eyebrow at the boy who smirked back at her "then why the sexual tension, and you about to kiss him?" grin fading and eyebrow falling she stared coldly at the boy his blood running cold at the look the girl just sent him "i-i take that back" stuttered the boy still feeling her staring straight into his soul, the game continued but surprisingly it didn't land on her anymore.

Sitting on her bed, she pushed the blanket away from her cold body, opening the door slightly trying not to make a noise as possible, making sure to close it behind her before she made her way toward Jungkook's room knocking 3 times. Jungkook jolted up from his bed at the thought of Y/N and immediately ran to open the door, he was right, there she was standing slightly shivering from the cold but before he could even protest to give her something to warm up or say anything, she already pulled him toward the Kitchen, opening the fridge she slowly grabbed hold of ice cream box and two spoons, sitting beside him she stared at the clock ticking in front of her "wanna know why I always throw your cigarettes whenever I see you holding one?" she said glancing at the boy who already stared at her continuing her words "because my mother was so addicted to this fucker, sure, it revealed her stress but it also made her sick, we would always go to the rooftop and talk about anything that comes to our mind, that was until he decided to cheat on her out of nowhere and started going to clubs, she didn't find out by herself, but I did, I told her in our usual ted talk we had at night while watching the stars flicker, surprisingly my mom didn't seem to care since she already noticed his sudden behavior, so being a good mother she wanted divorce and when she told him I told her about the whole thing, of me coming home from school and seeing a bitch on top off him, he started doing it to her. Days passed and mom got weaker day by day and everything was becoming worse as she started smoking 2 packs of cigarettes a day, and I don't want to lose you too after losing my own mother" she said scoffing a little bit at the memory flashing on her mind tears covering her E/C eyes.

Jungkook on the other side listened carefully and couldn't help but to intertwine his fingers with hers, and could feel her tensed up and her hand becoming warmer and not the usual coldness, looking at her he smiled happily at the sight of her looking at the moon through the balcony with a small blush on her cheek, as he was about to pull away afraid of hurting her she grabbed his hand back planting a gentle kiss on his veiny fingers and on top of the smiley face tattoo he had.

What are they?

A couple, close friends, just friends (pack it up, Adrien). She didn't understand why is the constant hand grabbing? cupping cheeks, the almost kiss in his room, He was so kind towards her and being his usual, bad boy self in front of the others?

Why would he like her anyway? she always thought of that which only broke her more remembering the fact she's going to run away and live in Busan and not stay with him anymore, her life was so confusing, should she stay with him or move away?

"Wanna know something?" asked the boy glancing at the girl who nodded at his question "you're living with me from now on, and this is the reason why," he said pulling her toward him by the hand, picking her up easily placing her in front of him and on top of the counter, with her staring directly into his eyes and his hand on both her side, the boy gently cupped her cheek. Heat rose from Y/N's stomach to her chest and behind her back. Jungkook's lips were getting closer and her heart decided to skip a beat, she could tell he heard it since the same bad-boy smirk came back on the corner of his lips. parting her lips she felt him washing over like a wave of warmth, curling her toes, unfurling all her senses as the taste of him nearly silenced all thoughts. The boys silently watched the scene happening in front of them Jimin and Taehyung taking pictures on the other side

the feel of his frame leaning on hers as his arms wrapped around her felt nearly forbidden. He pulled her in, claiming her mouth again, hungry and intense, until her knees gave in. Sure, she was a famous thief but in moments like these she's so nervous, he was her first kiss, what if it's bad?!. Her thoughts were stopped dead when his lips were gently pressed against hers, not knowing what to do she scooted closer toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck following the steps she remembered seeing in kdramas, he puts his hand on the back of her head and reassuringly strokes her H/C hair.

Heaven.

Pulling away gently the girl chuckled "you stole my first kiss-" "-and I'll do it again" he said cutting her off again with his lips on hers, a passionate and heated kiss made her melt in his arms, it was illegal for him to make her fall in love with him more with one simple fucking move. the next movement she made drove him crazy was the way her fingers played on his curly black hair, Picking her up his hand slid under her thigh, as he walked toward her room not breaking the kiss, closing the door behind them with his foot.

Jungkook's head rested on top of hers as he played with her H/C hair, "I never told you this, but do you know how much the Dior Sauvage & cigarette scent drove me crazy whenever I smell it on the outfits, I borrowed from you?" "oh yeah? new kink developed I guess" "yeah, I guess it's my kink," she said glancing lovingly at the boy in front of her, his fingers slowly pushed the strand of hair from her face as he smiled back at her, his fingers under her chin as he pulled her into a kiss.

"I'm in love with you girl with Dior Sauvage kink, Y/N L/N "

"and I'm in love with you too cigarette addicted bad boy, Jeon Jungkook"