#also she hasn’t looked at my snap stories which she normally does

[leosmasktails]

Y’all okay so my friend from high school goes to the same college as me and we had a class together this semester. She showed up for one day and then I think she dropped out cause she’s not on the list of students in the class anymore.

I texted her asking if she was coming on Thursday and she didn’t respond. I didn’t think much of it.

I text her again a couple hours later asking if she dropped the class just cause I was genuinely curious. No response.

I texted her again tonight and she still hasn’t responded…

Like idk if I did something but I don’t think I did??? It’s lowkey stressing me out cause she usually texts me back pretty shortly after I text her. Like we had a class together last semester and we communicated a lot. I genuinely enjoy being her friend and I’ve known her since like 2019, so this isn’t like her…

The only thing I can think of was me leaving after class to get food with some other people in the class pretty quickly, but I said goodbye and that I’d see her on Thursday-

I dunno if I’m overthinking but it’s making me really sad and stressed for no reason :(

[fangirlwriting-stories]

A Need For Defensive Weapons

Summary: No One Knows AU Part 2, Sam opens up to Danny about something that happened, something he should really remember.

Author's Note:

My Brain: Hey you should continue that Danny Phantom AU

Me: ...Why?

My Brain: I wanna

Me: ...You're not gonna let me stop until the story's done are you

My Brain: Probably not!

Well anyway that whole "this is a one shot" thing didn't even last four days huh

...

Jazz knowing is… weird.

She’s not the most adept at the mechanics of ghost fighting, but after a straightforward talk about it, she lets Danny do most of the main action and backs him up when he asks for it.  And he’ll admit, it’s nice knowing someone will be there to watch his back if he needs it.  Definitely results in less injuries.

But that’s just the very practical reality of Jazz being able to be there when he’s fighting.  There’s other parts of it that are weird too.  For one thing, Jazz is way too terrible at jokes for someone who’s supposed to be related to him.  They really need to work on her banter.  And her knowing looks across the dinner table are a little too obvious for Danny’s comfort.

But honestly, he’s willing to forgo all of it.  Because the other part of it is that he can look at Jazz and be met with a reassuring smile that actually helps him feel at ease.  Or he can talk about ghost fighting freely, as long as they’re sure no one else is around.  He has someone to bounce ideas off of and strategize with, because it turns out Jazz is so much smarter than he’s given her credit for.

It’s a bizarre shift in his normal, but in the end, Danny decides that it’s more good things than bad.  It’s relaxing, having someone to count on.

But it’s also very new, and he’s not sure he feels like he can tell her everything yet.  Knowing he can open up to someone and knowing he can open up to someone are two different things.

He’s also pretty sure Jazz gets that, though, and she’s kept her promise about not pushing him.  He tells her the few things he knows about what happened with Freakshow in short little bursts, and she tells him the things she knows happened while he was gone when he asks, but not otherwise.

This does have some side effects, though.  Mainly being that he comes up with stories that don’t contradict anything in short bursts too, and tells them to Sam and Tucker about as fast.  And while they’re certainly being less harsh with him than they were when he first got back, he can tell it’s starting to irritate them.  Sam, especially.

He doesn’t feel like he can do anything else, though.  And they don’t say anything to him directly, so they all continue to ignore the problem.  Hopefully they can skirt by on that until the problem stops existing and then all move on.

The ghost fighting is slowly picking up again too, and Danny’s starting to have his usual weekly run-ins with Skulker and Technus and the Box Ghost.  It also becomes more and more clear that Amity Park is no longer a fan of Danny Phantom.

Well, granted, they haven’t been a fan of him for a while, but now it’s significantly worse.  It’s a lot harder to find places to hide and go ghost, and a lot of the times Jazz has to cover for him, especially when he’s with Sam and Tucker.  (Another reason he’s glad he told her, actually.)

On the other hand, one thing that definitely hasn’t gotten easier is hearing how Sam and Tucker talk about Phantom now.

It’s not like they were necessarily huge fans of his ghost half before.  If anything, they seemed indifferent.  They brought him up when ghost fights happened near them, which wasn’t always, and they never really had much to say beyond commenting on how that fight move had been cool, or that ghost had been scary, or something along those lines.

But now…

“Okay it’s lunchtime and not after school in the library so you can’t stop me,” Sam snaps as Danny approaches their usual table, late after a detour to fight some ghosts nearby.

He blinks at Sam, feeling like he’s missed the beginning of a conversation.  “What?”

“I need to vent and you can’t stop me!” Sam snaps.

Danny blinks again, and turns to Tucker, who gives him a ‘don’t mess with her’ look.

“Uh, okay?” Danny says, sitting down next to Sam.

“Great!” Sam says, not seeming at all calmer now that Danny’s agreed, and instead turning back to Tucker with an angry gaze.  “Anyway, I need to talk about Invis-O-Bill.”

Oh, great.

“First of all,” Sam says, pointing at Tucker like they’d had this conversation before.  “He has a really stupid name.”

“Ugh, he wouldn’t if people would just—” Danny stops, takes a deep breath, and gestures at Sam.  “Whatever.”

Sam stares at him for a couple seconds, then seems to brush it off and turns back to Tucker.  “But more importantly, I cannot stand his attitude!  You can’t just flip back and forth on a dime between villain and hero and expect people to roll with the punches!  What’s that all about?”

“What’s up with you being so caught up in it?” Danny asks despite himself, managing to hold himself back from glaring at her.  “You never cared about him before.”

“Yeah well he hasn’t been everywhere before!” Sam snaps, glaring the other way.

“So what, you don’t like him because he’s mainstream now?”

“What?  No!” Sam says, turning to glare at him.

“Okay,” Tucker says, leaning in between them.  “Take a breath.  We’re all friends here.”

Danny sighs and looks away.  “Sorry.”

“Yeah, me too,” Sam mutters, looking down at her food.  “I just— I guess it all just has me a little on edge.”

“There have been a few more ghosts lately,” Danny says, though he hasn’t actually seen too much of an uptick.  “You know, if you want, I might be able to convince my parents to let you come over and I could show you how to use some ecto weapons.”

“I… think I’ll take you up on that,” Sam says, which Danny isn’t expecting.  She’s shown total disinterest in ghost fighting before.

“Uh, sure,” he says anyway, because he’s not going to take it back when he was the one who offered.  “You can ride home with Jazz and I today.”

“You sure your parents will let you do that?” Tucker asks.

Danny laughs a little.  “Sure.  All I have to do is say ‘hey guys Sam wants to learn to fight ghosts’ and they’d practically let her move in.”

“Heh, yeah I could believe that,” Sam says with a small smile of her own.

So, after their hour doing homework in the library (Danny is actually making progress, about halfway caught up now), Sam rides home with him and Jazz.  Just like Danny expected, his folks are totally cool with it, and he takes Sam down to the lab to show her some of the ecto weapons.  He just barely manages to talk his dad out of coming along, with a little help from Jazz.

“Okay,” Danny says, feeling more than a little awkward as he leads Sam down to the lab.  He tends to steer clear of ghost stuff with Sam and Tucker for obvious reasons.  “We’ve got a cabinet full of weapons in the back.”

“Cool,” Sam says, turning immediately to look for it.  Danny walks over and she follows close, seeming more than a little eager.

He gives her a look, and Sam smiles, but there’s nerves there.

“Are… you okay?” he asks hesitantly.

“Nothing!  It’s nothing!  Just ready to get started!”

Danny looks at her for a second longer, then shrugs it off and turns back to the cabinet, unlocking it and pulling it open.  “So, you’ll probably want to stick with blasters if you’re just looking for defensive weapons,” he says.  “A small one you can keep in your pocket would be best.”

“Can they be used as offensive weapons?” Sam asks.

“Well, I guess technically,” Danny says, glancing over at her curiously.  “That’s not how I tend to use them.”

“Since when do you use them?”

“Uh, well you’d be surprised how often ghosts come up on family vacations,” Danny says, turning back to the cabinet.  “Okay, I’ve got some wrist rays, lazer lipstick, and a couple smaller handheld blasters.  Any of those sound good?”

“I’ll take the wrist ray,” Sam says, holding out her hand.

“Sure,” Danny says, picking one up and passing it over.  “Those are pretty simple.  You just aim and shoot by pressing the button.”

Sam straps it to her wrist and immediately turns and aims at the opposite wall, pressing the button.  A green beam shoots across the room and blasts a beaker into bits.

“Woah, watch it Sam!” Danny calls, reaching out and pulling her arm back.  “I have to clean that up, you know!”

Sam seems to shake herself, and turns back to Danny.  “I— sorry.  Just testing it.”

“Well we have a perfectly good backyard to test it in,” Danny says.  “You can shoot at some grass or some dandelion fluff.”

Sam looks down and fidgets with the strap on her wrist.  “Yeah,” she says.  “Okay.”

Danny pauses and takes her in.  She’s tense, and her shoulders are hunched like she’s looking for a threat.

“Hey,” he says, reaching out and putting a hand on her arm.  She relaxes a little and turns to look at him.

“Are you okay?” he asks.  “You seem really nervous.  And since when do you want to learn how to fight ghosts anyway?”

“It’s nothing,” Sam snaps, glaring down at the ground.  “You wouldn’t get it anyway, since you don’t stick around enough to know what’s going on.”

Danny winces.

But a second later, Sam sighs.  “No, I’m sorry, that’s not fair,” she says, turning to him with a guilty look.  “It’s really not your fault, and I should stop talking like it is.  Even if it’s still totally crazy that you’re not telling anyone what actually happened.”

Danny is quiet for a minute.  “Did… did something happen to you?” he asks hesitantly.

Sam fiddles with the strap and doesn’t meet his eyes.

Crud.  Something did happen.  Something happened and he wasn’t here to protect her—

“So uh,” Sam says, still not looking at him.  “You know how the last place you said you were going before you were… well, you know, was Circus Gothica?”

“Uh…” Danny wracks his brain and comes up with a vague blurry memory of ditching Sam and Tucker in the library, finding Lancer waiting outside, and overshadowing him to lock him in a broom closet.  “Yeah?”

“Well, Tucker and I followed you,” Sam says.  “We were trying to find out what your deal was.  We never found you, but we did find Freakshow and that Invis-O-Bill guy.”

“Uh, yeah,” Danny says, looking away.  “Following you so far.”

“Well, um.”  Sam takes a deep breath.  “So Freakshow tells me he hasn’t seen you and leaves the tent, and I’m about to follow when Invis-O-Bill shows up and grabs me.”

Danny’s heart drops into his stomach, and he spins back to Sam.  “What?”

“And he puts me up on the highwire,” Sam says, clenching her hands into shaking fists while still glaring at the floor.  “With no net.  And then cuts the wire. If Freakshow hadn’t caught me when I fell I would have died.  He tried to kill me.”

Danny can’t breathe.  “I di— he did?  I don’t— I don’t remember that.”  Why can’t he remember that?

“No, like I said, you were gone already,” Sam says with a sigh, like it’s not a big deal.  “I just, then he just shows up again last week like nothing’s happened and goes back to fighting that stupid ghost with all the boxes, whatever the heck his name is.  I just… I couldn’t take it.”  She looks down at her wrist.  “So I… I think I’ll feel a lot better if I’ve got something to defend myself with, you know?  If he or any other ghost tries to mess with me again.”

“Sure,” Danny says, trying to talk past the sudden lightheadedness.  He hopes his face looks even marginally appropriate for the situation.

Sam looks up at him, and he tries to focus on her and not his racing heartbeat.  “Hey, I— I’m sorry,” she says.  “I know I’ve been kind of snappy lately.  I think I’m just on edge, you know?”

Then, without any warning, she reaches out and wraps her arms around him.  “But I’m really glad you’re okay,” she says, while Danny goes back to staring at the floor and trying to force his breathing to cooperate.  “And I… I’m sorry I got so mad at you when you first showed up again.  It really wasn’t your fault.  I mean, obviously.  I can’t fault you for actually getting kidnapped.”

“It’s okay,” Danny manages.  “I’m fine.  I uh— I need to go to the bathroom.”

Sam pulls back, seeming slightly surprised.  “Oh, okay.  Meet you in the backyard?”

Danny nods and turns to practically run up the stairs.  He doesn’t stop until he reaches the bathroom, then slams and locks the door.  He leans back against it and slides to the floor, burying his head in his knees.

Breathe, you’re fine, nothing permanent happened, Sam’s fine, everything’s fine.

It’s fine.

…

“Alright!” Danny calls, opening the back door with a bang that’s maybe a little too loud, but that doesn’t stop Sam from turning to him with a smile.  “So let’s teach you how to shoot some grass with a wrist ray!”

...

Chapter Two

[hmslusitania]

Paint it Black

@evanbucxley @arrenemris you guys wanted petty, jealous Eddie stuck in an elevator with Taylor during the blackout, right?

Eddie Diaz has been involved in his share of awkward dinners.

This one takes the cake though. It starts with him showing up at Buck’s loft by himself, and Buck opening the door with that stupid puppy-dog confused tilt to his head that makes Eddie want to do something drastic.

“Where’s Ana?” he asks.

“We broke up,” Eddie says. “Figured it would be weird to invite her to dinner after that.”

“Oh, I didn’t know,” Buck says, which yeah, Eddie knows because Eddie hadn’t told him yet. “I’m sorry, man.”

Which makes…one of them.

The night gets worse when Taylor shows up with her latest story of her investigation into – Eddie misses the details, but he’s discovered that Taylor’s voice somehow is at the exact right pitch that he can’t quite hear it most of the time. Weird how that works.

Buck, bless his fucking heart, feels none of the tension in the loft. Or if he does, he doesn’t react to it. He stays chipper and upbeat and positive and doesn’t comment when Eddie and Taylor trip over each other to help him with making dinner or pouring drinks or to sit beside him on the couch while the food cooks.

But, like, the spot on the couch beside Buck is Eddie’s spot, and if it’s not Eddie’s it’s Christopher’s.

And Eddie…loses the fight.

Taylor’s tiny, and for just half a second, he entertains the utterly absurd idea of just picking her up and moving her, but it flits out of his head almost as soon as it arrives. It’s quickly followed by an unfortunate realisation that it must be easy as anything for Buck to just pick her up and move her when – which is then immediately erased by the second-hand memory he acquired from Captain Mehta that Buck had been able to just pick Eddie up and toss him into the engine like he was a sack of potatoes – which –

He’s saved when dinner is ready, but he feels Taylor’s eyes on him the whole way through the meal.

Annoyingly, they end up leaving at the same time. Buck and Eddie have a shift in the morning, and Taylor has a story to cut before some deadline or other. Eddie would rather not walk out with her, would rather not share the elevator with her – he briefly considers legging it for the stairs but they’re at the other end of Buck’s floor and the elevator is right there and it would be absolutely blatant what he was doing – but if the alternative is knowing she’s staying the night at Buck’s, he’ll deal with the elevator.

They’re both quiet while the doors slide open, the soft whisper of the brushed stainless-steel brushing against the dust guards the only sound besides the simmering mutual animosity between them. They step into the elevator, which smells vaguely of Pinesol, and Taylor presses the button for the ground floor with a shiny lacquered red nail.

The doors close again and the shimmering, irritable silence fills the space. No elevator music in Buck’s building, which is probably for the best.

“So,” Taylor says as the world’s slowest elevator descends. “Is it personal or are you just jealous?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Eddie says. The elevator has faux wood panelling, not mirrors, so he can’t tell if she’s looking at him or if she’s staring straight ahead like he is.

“You either hate me on a personal level, because I’m me or something,” she says. “Or you hate me because you’re in love with Buck.”

Eddie gets as far as a spluttered, indignant, “I am not in love with—”

And then the elevator lurches. Stops. The lights flicker and then die. The emergency lights do not kick on.

“Well that’s comforting,” Taylor says, dry.

Eddie pulls out his phone. Usually, it’s still connected to Buck’s wifi by the elevator, and the connection’s gone. So it isn’t just the elevator.

“There’s a button in here that calls the fire department, right?” Taylor asks, pulling out her own phone and shining it at the elevator panel. She presses the button that should connect them directly to the department, and nothing happens.

“Depending on how wide the power outage is, it might have knocked out dispatch,” Eddie says.

“Great,” Taylor says. “You’re a firefighter, you can get the doors open, right?”

“With a Halligan and a fully functional shoulder?” Eddie asks. “Sure.”

She huffs. “Do you think it’s just this building or wider?”

“How would I know?” Eddie asks.

“So helpful, thank you.”

“What do you want me to do, Taylor? Use my magical powers of divination to figure out if we’re in a building-wide, block-wide, city-wide, county-wide blackout?” Eddie snaps.

He can’t see her face in the shitty half-light of their respective phone screens, but he hears her roll her eyes.

“It’s because you’re in love with him, right?” she asks.

“For fuck’s sake, Taylor, I’m not in love with—”

“Because he’s in love with you,” she interrupts as though he hasn’t spoken. Eddie’s heart stops. “It’s weird, I’ve never really had to vie for someone’s affections before. I can’t say I’m a fan, but, see, he thinks you aren’t an option.”

“He told you this?” Eddie asks and hopes to God his voice sounds normal because it does not feel like it.

Taylor snorts. “He didn’t have to. Do you guys have any idea what you’re like when you’re around each other? It’s obvious to anyone who even meets you in passing, and I know both of you and have a journalism degree. It’s not difficult math.”

“Then why are you dating him?” Eddie asks, swallowing back the lump that’s just jumped into his throat that feels suspiciously like his heart.

“Because I like him,” Taylor says. “And because I like a challenge.”

Before Eddie can say anything rude about Buck being worth more than a challenge to someone, she sighs.

“I’d say you’re going to have to fight me for him, but it’s not going to be much of a competition,” she says.

“You really think my chances are that bad?” Eddie asks and he hates how sad he sounds, even to his own ears.

Taylor doesn’t get a chance to answer before Eddie’s phone lights up with a picture of Buck and Chris together and Buck’s name in bright letters. In the sudden illumination, he sees the annoyed, resigned expression on her face.

“That answer your question?” she replies, and Eddie answers the phone.

“Hey, did you make it out or are you stuck in the elevator?” Buck asks.

“We’re stuck in the elevator,” Eddie says. “No idea what floor. Maybe three?”

“Cool, don’t go anywhere,” Buck replies and hangs up before Eddie can ask where, exactly, they might go.

An awkward silence hangs in the elevator in the wake of the phone call.

Until, finally, Taylor says, “For what it’s worth, if I had to lose to someone, at least you’re as pretty as I am.”

Eddie is still searching for some kind of response to that – coming up absolutely blank – when the elevator doors slide open. Buck, illuminated by a headlamp, waves at them and pockets his keys.

“You have an elevator key?” Taylor asks while Buck pulls her out.

“Fire marshals and captains get ’em,” Buck says. “They’re standard across production lines.”

“Fire marshals have to give them back,” Eddie points out.

“Eh, when I was a probie, we got an elevator rescue and Bobby told me to go open the doors, and so I stood there trying to pry them open for like five minutes before he walked up to the elevator panel and unlocked them with his key,” Buck says. “Chim and Hen laughed at me for about a month every time we got near an elevator. So when I did my turn as fire marshal, I may have made a copy.”

“Of course you did,” Eddie says. He rolls his eyes and is grateful for the darkness so Buck can’t see exactly how fond he must look.

Taylor catches him, though, and for a tense second, Eddie thinks she’s going to say something about it. But Taylor Kelly is a lot of things, but “quitter” isn’t one of them. It might not be a fair fight, and the outcome might be rigged in Eddie’s favour, but he understands then that she’s going to make him fight for it. Fight for Buck.

No worthier fight, really.

“We should check in, see if they want us on shift early,” Buck says, already pulling his phone out to text or call Bobby.

“And I should go investigate,” Taylor says. “I’m sure my station is missing me.”

“Okay,” Buck says. “Do you want my headlamp for the stairs?”

“I’ve got it, but, thank you,” Taylor says. She stretches on her toes to kiss him goodbye – much more thoroughly than she had when they left Buck’s apartment. She arches an eyebrow at Eddie once she’s let go of Buck and Eddie narrows his eyes right back. “See you boys later.”

She flips on the flashlight on her phone and waltzes off to the stairs.

“We should tell all my neighbours to stay inside,” Buck says.

“Sounds like a plan,” Eddie says, shooting a text to his abuela and Chris to ask them to do the same. He doesn’t know yet if the blackout’s reached their neighbourhood, but it’s a better policy.

“So what did you and Taylor talk about while you were in the elevator together?” Buck asks in between knocking on his neighbours’ doors to announce LAFD please remain inside your homes.

“We, uh, came to an understanding,” Eddie says.

“Oh! Good,” Buck says. He pauses. “What about?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie recommends. He nudges Buck with his shoulder and gets a grin in response. “Let’s check in with Bobby and see if they need us or if they recommend we just stay inside and stay safe, too.”

“No one I’d rather weather a lockdown with,” Buck replies, as if the second she stepped into the stairwell, Taylor also disappeared from his head. “Well, except maybe Christopher.”

Eddie laughs, and thinks in Taylor’s direction, may the best person win.

[corvysor]

“Uhuh”

Samantha taps away at her phone screen doing the bare minimum to keep the date going until the food arrives. It has been a long week at work for her and she felt she deserved a free meal because of it.

She glances up from her phone at her ‘date’ across the table from her. Not really a date, but more like a free meal ticket. He was attractive enough, and seemed to be telling a story about boats or something like that. It would be nice if he had a boat, she thought to herself. Maybe I’ll keep his number for the summer.

They’d met in the on her way home from work and he had seemed handsome enough. Handsome enough for them to be seen together at dinner, but she probably wouldn’t sleep with this one tonight. Plus, she had 2 more lined up that weekend.

He said something again which felt to be quite conclusive. “uhuh” she repeated again. He was certainly trying, bless him. But it was a bit pathetic. She put down her phone on the table and took a sip of the wine he had ordered. After having refreshed her Instagram page and finding nothing new she was really starting to notice the lack of food.

TING

Her attention snapped to the fork that had just glanced off the wine glass opposite. He seems to have been gesturing wildly, still probably going on about boats or something. As he spoke, her eyes were drawn to the red liquid sloshing still in the glass, still unsettled by the vibrations.

“You listening?” he asked. “uhuh” she replied again, but felt a bit proud that it was in actual answer this time.

She looked around the restaurant hoping to catch a sign of someone bringing the food. There weren’t many people here so it shouldn’t take that long.

TING

Her eyes darted back to the glass as the noise rang out. “All you do is listen” she heard him say and she couldn’t really disagree there. “yeah” she sighed, as if caught in the act, but it didn’t really seem like a problem. People always say it’s a positive thing to be a good listener, so she was definitely being good.

“you like listening to this” he says, oddly confident, tapping the glass once more.

TING

She can’t disagree with that either. It does make a nice noise and watching the wine swash around after was also very pleasant. “Yeah” she admits again. He is certainly not wrong, I’ll give him that. She leans back in her chair taking another sip of her own wine.

TING

“you are really relaxed.” He was right again as she feels her body go warm. It’s probably the wine. God, I’m a lightweight that a few sips makes me this drunk. “yes” she confirms to him almost automatically at this point.

Her body slumps slightly in her chair and she goes to take another sip of wine.

TING

“you like the way the wine swirls” She looks down again at the glass in her hands. By god he is right again. The deep red swirling around the glass seems to just pull her in. She could stare at that for hours.

He seems to go back to talking normally, probably about a boating trip again, but she is not paying attention this time either. Except, rather than her phone, she just stares deeply into her glass as she rhythmically tilts it side to side, making the liquid swirl in tempo. She can’t make out the words he says but they seem to match the speed perfectly of the wine. Wow listening to him is like watching this wine swirl.

TING

“you repeat everything I say” he says, again in a more confident voice than normal. He hasn’t been wrong until now so I guess he’s right now.

“Yes, I repeat everything you say” Oh he was right. I repeated that back. Wow, He is smart.

TING

“You can’t help but follow my commands”

“I can’t help but follow your commands”. There he goes again. He commanded me to repeat everything he said and now I am doing just that. He is so right.

TING

“Doing what I command feels so very good”

“Doing as you command feels so very good” Jesus, what a rush. That felt better than every cigarette I have ever smoked. Am I addicted to this already?

While she has been swirling the wine glass, she has bought her face in closer and closer, until her whole vision is consumed by swirling crimson bringing her so much pleasure.

TING

“Doing as you are commanded is your biggest sexual thrill”

“Doing as I am commanded is my biggest sexual thrill” Her mind races with all the kinky things that she has ever done up till now. The time she slept with her boss at work on his desk, that time with he threesome, the feeling when she used her new sex toy for the first time. Doing as I am commanded feels better than all of that? Blood rushes through her body as it gets more turned on than she has ever experienced in her life.

TING

“Your horny holes need to be filled with dick”

“My horny holes need to be filled with dick” Oh god, ALLof my holes are so horny. I have never been this horny before! Shit, I need some dick in me now or I feel I might explode with horniness. Is that possible. She slams her wineglass down on the table, the splash of red erupting into the air giving her one last wave of pleasure that tips her over the edge. Her eyes lock on to the man across the table.

He has a dick. It must feel as good as his words. I need that cock. Right now.

He stands up calmly and finishes his wine as Samantha scrambles to find her purse. She starts looking around desperately for a waiter, this time eager for a different meat. The rivers between her legs making it uncomfortable just to be in underwear, her holes feeling achingly empty.

TING

She straightens up at that sound and feels like her whole body is on fire. She grabs a fistful of notes from her purse and tosses them onto the table. She grabs this man by the hand and pulls him out the door of the restaurant.

Sam, you slut. You can’t even remember his name and you cant wait to fuck him. Now, there must be an alleyway around here…

[weirdthinkingdragon]

Welcome To The Family (6/???)

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / here

Yandere EraserMic household x reader

Fun fact- Tadao was a sudden decision I made up on the spot after chapter 3 and wasn’t expecting to really make him a character other than a mentioned person with a mold/fungus quirk. I did though, and already love him as an OC more than I should. Oops. 

It might be a long while before the next chapter. I think I may have drained myself a bit from focusing on this story so much. 

Warnings- swearing, slight coercion I think? Not really sure but better safe than sorry. 

I promise the darker stuff is coming soon. 

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

I wake up to someone calling me. Hitoshi? Why is he calling me at… 9 in the morning? Come on dude, I want to sleep more for dinner tonight. My fault for hanging out with Tadao a bit later last night than usual. He’s started walking with me to our apartment for the past few days. I wonder why we haven’t hung out until now. Meanwhile, Ryo and I seemed to drift apart. They refuse to even look at me now when I saw them last night. 

Ugh, might as well answer it. “Hey, Hitoshi. You need something?” I tiredly slur from just waking up. 

“Sorry for waking you…” Apologized the familiar voice of Eri. Wait, Eri? Why does she have Hitoshi’s phone? The wonder why she has his phone wakes me up a bit more. 

“Oh, hey, Eri. Is something wrong?” A slight panic enters me in the possibility something bad could have happened to one of the guys. “Wait, is everyone okay?” 

“We’re good. Just wanted to talk a bit with you before tonight.” Pipes up the familiar voice of Hitoshi in the background. 

Relief floods me. “That’s good. What about?” 

“Our dads!” Eri cheerfully informs. 

My eyes narrow in confusion. “What about them?” 

“What do you think of them?” Hitoshi asks. Huh? Why does this need to be talked about now? Maybe because more likely than not the two adults are asleep, and won’t hear the conversation? 

I’m too tired to be filtered right now, so whatever comes to mind is whatever is going to be said. “They’re… An interesting two, to say the least. Hizashi seems like someone I can rely on to cheer me up pretty easily if I’m ever down, and after that day Shouta was sick, I realize Shouta’s secretly a lot more caring than he lets on. Still wouldn’t want to pi- anger him.” Ugh, it’s too early. I nearly just swore with Eri there! Well, saying “piss him off” wouldn’t have been that bad, but she needs to keep that innocence at least for a while yet. 

Hitoshi laughs, probably catching on with what I almost said. “Seen it first-hand with his class. Can’t say I recommend it either.”

“What about looks?” Eri suddenly asks, catching me off-guard. What do their looks have to do with anything? They’re also a married couple, so whatever I think is invalid anyways. 

“Well, had this weird thought of wondering what Hizashi would look like with his hair fully down when we went to the festival, but that’s really not something that I need to tell him. It’s something I probably shouldn’t be wondering in the first place.”

“What’s the problem in wondering that? It’s just hair.” 

“Says the one who always looks like he stuck his head out a car window and hair decided to stay that way.” 

“Can’t argue with that.” 

I go back onto the topic. “Otherwise, I’m not really sure what to talk about with them. It’s their choices of what they wear. Though it IS pretty funny imagining Hizashi forcing Shouta to wear something he normally wouldn’t.”

“It’s happened more than once before.” 

I tiredly let out a laugh. “I believe it.”  

“Daddy made him wear a dress!” 

An almost inhuman sound comes out of me at the thought of Shouta deeply frowning with a strapless hot pink dress forced onto him, and the only reason he does it is Hizashi would probably keep pestering him otherwise. 

“Maybe sometime we could get him to do it again with you here. It’s quite a thing to see.” 

“Oh, really? How did he not kill you for laughing?”

“He almost did,” he replies jokingly. 

“If he tries to attack me when I’m there, you’re taking the blow.” I joke back. 

He goes silent for a moment. “He wouldn’t dare. If he did, he’d have an angry little girl scolding him.”

“Toooshiiii!”

“What? You know I’m right.” 

“Hmph.” 

“Anyway, want to tell them what you’ll wear?”

“No! It’s a surprise!”

“Right back at you two,” I inform the slightly bickering duo.

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

We both hung up after a bit more of talking about tonight. I could swear there was someone talking in the background for a second, but I brushed it off as the T.V. Eri was probably watching something earlier and forgot to lower the volume. 

After playing on my computer for a while since it’s close to my bed, I decided to just get up and get ready. There are not many fancy things I have, so it’s quite limited on what to wear. Hopefully, they don’t mind if it’s a bit more casual than fancy. There’s plenty of time to shop for something, but I’m honestly too lazy to go anywhere. Just something of my favorite color and slightly more fancy than my daily clothes should work. 

I have to dig much deeper into my closet to find said clothing from not wearing it too often. 

One of my favorite color is grabbed. Nope, that’s not it. 

I move a few more. Wait, there it is! I move a few more pieces of clothing and grab it, pulling it out. Hopefully, it still fits. Welp, time to try. I take off my pajamas. 

.

.

.

.

Like a glove. Perfect! 

Just to make sure there are no new forgotten holes or something, I look at myself in my body mirror. Huh, I actually look pretty good in this! I might have to wear it more often. Something feels like it’s missing though. Maybe a ring or something would help? 

I look over to the select few rings I have, including the forgotten one Ryo gave me. My heart slightly twinges at remembering they gave it as a best friends type of ring years ago. A ring with real blue topaz fitting my middle finger. 

Might as well wear it. I slip it on and decide to leave my room, though they won’t be here for a while yet. Maybe Tadao will be around. 

My body instinctively starts looking around for the familiar- oh, not again. Does he LIKE sleeping on the floor in the hall or something? I walk up to his sleeping form. I gently nudge him to move with my foot. 

He groans, and curls his head deeper onto his arm, also bringing his legs up so he’s a ball. “Come on dude, I know your quirk is related to mold and all, but you’re not supposed to BECOME it.” 

“I am one with the floor… I shall be the floor…” He mumbles, probably sleep talking.  

I nudge him harder, making him open his eyes to look up at me. “Heyyy Y/N. What time is it?” He sluggishly asks. 

I check my phone. “Already half-past noon.” 

That got his attention. Both of his eyes snapped open as he shot to sit up. He grabs his rather cracked phone and looks at it. There are a few messages on the screen without him unlocking it. They’re impossible to read as he seems frantic after looking at them. “Already!? Man, I gotta get ready! I’ll be late for work!” 

I don’t even get the chance to ask him anything since he gets to his feet and sprints off past my door, probably to his. 

Glancing at Ryo’s door, the thought of checking on them arises. No, they’re deciding on acting out like this. Crawling to them could only continue this childish way again at some point. Ugh, what to do now though? It will be boring to just sit around for the next few hours. The park could be good for a few hours. 

The villains around though? Nah. Welp, more computer time.

Familiar brown hair in the corner of my eye catches my attention before returning to my door. It’s the woman that glared at me with Hizashi at the studio. What’s she doing around here? Never saw her around before, and she doesn’t exactly strike me as the type to like parties. Funny if she’s attracted to Hizashi like he told me. 

She keeps her glare on me as she… Knocks on Ryo’s door? Oh hell no. There’s no way Ryo is hanging out with someone like that. I’m proven wrong though as Ryo opens the door and pulls them in without looking at me. 

I- What? What’s going on lately?

Also, okay, what the ever-loving fuck Ryo!? 

Calm down, give them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe the woman hasn’t told Ryo anything about my work, and maybe it can just be a sudden meeting they did at one point, and it’s an opposites attract type of friendship. After all, I haven’t really been around. They were bound to try to find someone else to hang out with I suppose. Should this be a concern to bring up with Hizashi and Shouta though? 

I stand there still staring at Ryo’s door and blink confusedly. They couldn’t have found anyone better to hang out with? Even a villain would have been better than her in my opinion. Sure, more trouble from me being around two- basically three- heroes could arise, but I’d be willing to keep that kind of secret for them. But this? This gives me a bad feeling.

What if she’s the reason Ryo is acting so odd? 

Next Sunday will be the day to get some answers from them. If they will talk to me, that is. 

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

Time seems to slip by while being on my computer. My phone notifies me of a text message. I look at it to see it’s from Hizashi. 

“Hitoshi’s coming in to get ya! We’re waiting!” My eyes widen noticing it’s already past six at night. 

I try to text him ASAP to not let Hitoshi come in. They won’t be happy with my living place. “That will be fine, call him off. I’ll be out shortly.” 

“Too late! Sorry!” 

I sigh. He doesn’t even know which one mine is! I put my computer away and quickly left. Looking left and right, there’s familiar purple hair far down on the right. Obviously, it’s Hitoshi. He is staring with great disgust at the peeling walls and ripped-up flooring.  Oh boy, it’s probably a disaster with what is about to happen in the vehicle now. 

The hallway is rather dimly lit now, making it slightly hard to see, but it’s easy to tell he’s wearing a suit matching his eye color. I’m feeling pretty underdressed now. 

“Hey, Hitoshi. You could have waited outside. Uh… You probably should have no offense.” 

He glares at a piece of wall that falls off onto the floor. “How do you live in this?” 

I shrug. “Eh, you get used to it,” I noticed his frustrated expression. He’s about to ask me why I don’t move or something since I clearly could with my pay. “And before you say anything, I rather like it here. It’s where a lot of my closest friends are.”   

His eyes narrow at me. “You could still visit instead of living here.” 

Someone jumps upstairs, making the place shake, and a piece of the ceiling on this level chips off and falls next to the wall piece on the floor. 

“That’s new,” I comment. It’s true, the ceiling has never fallen before. Makes me wonder when this whole building is going to collapse. Bit worried for my friends here now.

Hitoshi looks at me like I just told him the world is going to end tomorrow. 

I start walking to the exit, having Hitoshi follow behind me too closely for my taste. Makes sense if he’s doing it for my protection, but he obviously doesn’t know these people as I do. He almost could be felt against my back. “You mind standing back a bit? You’re rather close.”

He does, but just barely. 

It doesn't take long for us to get to the vehicle. Just like before, I get in the center and hug Eri. The slight light in the car makes it hard to see her dress, but I'm pretty sure it's a bright silverish blue. The light wasn't on long enough to notice the two up front. 

They do seem to notice Hitoshi in a slightly on edge type of way. For the moment the light was on. 

"What's wrong, little hypno-man?" 

"Their apartment is not fitting to live in."

"What?" Hizashi's tone almost drastically changes. I'm glad I can't see them right now. I focus on the scenery past Hitoshi to try ignoring the growing unease of him whistleblowing to them. 

"It's falling apart. A part of the wall fell to the floor. The inside is much worse than the outside." 

"Why are you still living there? You can easily move with the money we give you." Shouta pipes up. 

"Because I like living there. It's a walking distance from your place, and all my friends are there."

"You could visit them some other time if you moved. We'd pay a bus for you if needed." 

"Exactly! Or I could drive ya to our place! It wouldn't be a problem, and it would give me a little somethin' to do while the grump wakes up in the morning!" 

I don't feel comfortable at the thought of having to rely on them like that. They're already so busy themselves, it really wouldn't be fair to them despite what they say. 

“Uh… no. Thanks for the offer, but my place is good for now.”

The air is rather tense, telling me that they want to push more on the subject, but decide not to for now. 

I decided to bring up what happened earlier.  “Remember that bad woman from before?”

“You mean Chiyo?” Shouta spits her name with such hate, someone would think he’d murder her if he could. Hizashi must have told him about our meeting in his studio. Wait, Isn’t that a first name?

As if reading my mind, Hizashi answers for Shouta. “She doesn’t deserve the respect of last name. What about her?” 

“I discovered today she might be hanging out with one of my closest friends that doesn’t seem to be too happy with me lately. Isn’t it a bit of a concern she might tell them that I babysit for you guys?” 

“That’s confidential information. Like it was said to you before you started, you can’t tell anyone our identities. They can get into serious trouble if they do, and they signed a contract accepting they wouldn’t.” Shouta replies. 

“That’s good to know.” I say, sounding relieved. They could be told how Ryo thinks they’re bad parents for me babysitting so often, but that’s something that probably doesn’t need to be brought up. Especially if she can’t tell Ryo about it. 

Hizashi pulls up and parks in front of the restaurant we must be dining in. wait- fuck, I’ve heard of this place. It’s one of the most expensive restaurants around here! We exit and enter the restaurant. The first thing I noticed was how well-dressed the two men were. Shouta was wearing a navy blue suit, white undershirt, and a light brown tie. Oddly, he’s also wearing glasses. When did he need glasses? 

Hizashi was wearing a cream-colored suit with a dark grey undershirt and a tie matching his eye color. Looking at the four of them and the others around, I am… severely underdressed. Doesn’t feel much better with everyone that stares at me from their tables for a moment. 

Wait- Hizashi’s. Hair. Is. Fully. Down. I whip my head towards Hitoshi and glare in betrayal. 

He notices with a smirk, and puts his hands in front of himself in mock-defense. “Don’t look at me. He was there then, just didn’t speak.” 

My eyes narrow. “So it really WASN’T the T.V.” Seriously though!? That’s so embarrassing! He must have heard everything! 

Him and Hizashi chuckle at me, making me feel worse.

A woman comes up from the counter. “Please tell me the name of your reservation.” 

“The Aizawa’s.” Um… I’m not exactly a part of this family? Well, it does make sense though I guess just to do a last name. Hizashi smirks at Shouta while he glares in return. 

“Right this way please.” She starts to lead the five of us to a table farther in the back. The enormous chandeliers overhead from the really tall ceiling are slightly intimidating if I’m to be honest. Each crystal is taller than Hizashi from the top of his hair in his hero costume to his feet. 

The white and gold walls of the place give a surprisingly calming type of effect. It’s rather cool in here as well. Probably to help combat the ones who wear layers of clothes to be more fancy or something.  

“You couldn’t have chosen anything else?” Shouta hisses quietly enough for the woman not to hear, but I’m close enough that I can. I’m right between them from behind while Hitoshi and Eri are behind me. I can swear Hitoshi keeps trying to nudge me forward closer to them. 

“Aw, don’t worry ‘bout it babe! Besides, you and I both know you’re known much less than me! This way they won’t know us!” He leans even closer to Shouta. “And don’t deny it, you know you like the thought of me bein’ called an Aizawa~” 

I can see red start to cover the side of Shouta’s face even though he tries his best to hide and prevent it. Ha! Now he’s the one to be embarrassed! 

I let out a chuckle, making Hizashi turn and give me a toothy grin. 

We get to a table with booth seats. The color of them is surprisingly similar to Eri’s dress. 

I go to sit with Hitoshi and Eri, but like before, Hizashi grabs my wrist and has me sit between him and Shouta. Why do you keep doing this to me dude!? Shouta is on my right by the wall with Hizashi on my left by the opening. 

Eri is sitting by the wall with Hitoshi by the opening in front of us. I didn’t notice before, but her dress has some candy apple red jewels the shape of diamonds, adorning the dress even more than it already was. Must be new since it’s never been seen by me before.  

… I don’t like the closeness of the two men beside me again. Saying it is uncomfortable is an understatement. A difference than before is the heat of their thighs radiating through their pants onto mine. 

The woman hands us menus. “Someone will be here to take your orders shortly.” 

I try to brush them off while looking at the menu. 

“Hey Y/N, are ya datin’ anyone?” 

“Maybe.” They don’t need to know I’m not. 

“That’s a yes or no question.” Shouta states with slight annoyance. He must have forgotten I told him I’m not the day he was sick.  

“They better not be a villain. We’d hate to have to do something to you and them. Better be honest, you’re not looking the best right now.” Hitoshi accuses. 

What the heck Hitoshi!? You’re just going to turn on me like this!? Why I ought to come over there and smack the back of your head myself! 

My saving grace as the waiter comes- Tadao!? This is where he works!? He comes up to our table with a notepad in front of him. "Hello, I’m Ito, and I’ll be your waiter for tonight. What can I get you started with?” 

“Tadao, you work here?” 

His head snaps up from the notepad, and looks at me. “Oh hey, Y/N!” His face becomes a smirk. “What happened to calling me glowstick?” 

“Well, you’re not really glowing right now in this light, are you?”

“Ha, you got me there.” 

The three men look between us with some look I don’t really understand. 

“Ya know each other?” 

“You could say we’re close.” Tadao informs. They grow rather deep frowns at the news.

He clears his throat and brings his notepad up. “What drinks could I start you guys with?” We each tell him our drinks and he writes them down. “All right, drinks coming right up!” He leaves to go get them. 

“He’s one of the reasons I don’t move out of my apartment. Especially now. We’ve become really close recently.” 

“You should stay away from him. He seems like bad news.” Hitoshi informs. 

??? huh? “Why, do you know he has a villain record or something?” 

“He could be using you. Stay away from him or we might have to make sure he doesn’t do anything.” 

Okay, THAT pisses me off. “First of all, you guys can’t tell me who I can and can’t hang out with outside of babysitting hours. Second of all, I’d really appreciate it if you guys could be less judging of him, because he has never done anything even slightly villainous whenever we met.” My slightly edged tone makes them back off the topic. I wanted to add third of all being he walks with me at night to our apartment place, but that seems like a bad idea if their reaction is this so far. 

It grows awkwardly silent between us all for a moment. Maybe I should have kept the others to myself too, but damn it, they need to have more respect for my decisions they were never a part of, and have no need to be a part of. 

Tadao comes with our drinks. He places them down, and Hizashi immediately takes a big drink of his.

“Here you guys go, and one drink for one special person.” He jokingly winks at me. 

I roll my eyes in response. “Sometimes I truly wonder if I hate you.” I tease.

He rolls his eyes in return. “Admit it, you know you love me.”

Hizashi chokes on his drink. I don’t help him from still being a bit upset. He should be fine anyways after a bit. 

He does, and is able to manage keeping his quirk down as well. 

“Do I?” I question teasingly. 

The three men glare at him. Sheesh, what’s their problem? 

He seems rather uncomfortable by it and leaves in a rush immediately after taking our orders. After I almost had a heart attack from the beyond insane prices, of course. Even the cheapest thing is over half the money I’m given a day for babysitting. 

I’m getting pretty upset with these guys right now. Starting to wonder if they got hit with some odd quirk again or something. 

That calms me down a bit since it would kind of make sense that’s why they’re acting odd. How long will it last though? Better not be long. I don’t know if I can handle them like this without losing my mind. 

“Hey, Y/N. We have something for you,” Hitoshi pipes up, and nods towards Hizashi. 

“Right!” He reaches into one of his pockets and pulls out a… necklace? It has my favorite type of jewel in it, encased behind and around the edges with what looks like real gold. A different shine is on it, like something is covering the gold to prevent it from easily being destroyed by weather or wear. The shape is in a rather large teardrop. It looks custom-made as well. Never seen anything even close to what this looks like before. 

“It’s a gift!” Eri cheerfully chimes in.

“That she helped us pick for you.” Shouta informs. 

Please don’t tell me it’s authentic. It looks real though. I can’t even begin to imagine the price of what it must have cost to create it if it is real. “I’m sorry, but I can’t accept this! It feels too much like I’m just using you guys if I do!” 

The three of them frown. Even Eri seems a bit disappointed. 

Eri asking me my favorite jewel kind of makes sense now, but why would they want to give this to me? 

“C’mon, let’s put it on ya!” He hands it over to Hitoshi and stands up, pulling me to stand up with him. Hitoshi stands as well. 

“Did you guys not hear me? I- I can’t accept it!” 

Hizashi shakes his head. “Don’t be so worried, dear little lovesong! We want you to have it! Ya can’t just say no, we spent too much for it to go to waste now!” 

Hitoshi goes behind me with the necklace and is able to put it on while I’m still rather reluctant to accept such a gift.

Eri’s eyes almost seem to sparkle when the clasp gets shut on it. “You look amazing!”  

I freeze in my tracks to notice everyone is staring at us yet again. This time with slightly different reactions. A couple of them seem to be with envy, making me want to shrivel up and hide in a hole, and others seem to be appreciative I have something more expensive than my clothes now or something.  

At least Shouta seems to give me mercy by pulling me back down in the booth and glaring at them all in such a way that they all stop staring. I’m feeling a bit like a ragdoll at this point. 

Hitoshi joins him, making sure they truly stop. The glare combined of those two could probably curdle the blood of All Might himself. 

The restaurant seems to grow quiet between all of us. 

I decide to escape by using the bathroom. Hizashi didn’t have time to sit back down before it was necessary. “Stay here, it won’t take me long.” They still seem reluctant to let me go alone. 

Getting to the bathrooms, I didn’t have to go, just wanted to get out of the stares and whispers for a little bit. Despite the men’s glares, of course there was still going to be gossip of someone in here who looks so out of place. 

“Hey, Y/N, be careful around them, alright? They’re pretty strange.” Pipes up the familiar voice of Tadao behind me. 

I play dumb. He probably shouldn’t know I know they must have been hit with some kind of quirk. “How do you know? They could just be being cautious since their children are with.”

“I admit, I did watch you a bit at the festival. More so the men you were with when they came. Something about them isn’t... “ He seems to be struggling with figuring out how to explain it. “It’s wrong. I just can’t quite put my finger on what it is. Again, just be careful, alright?” 

I just nod and enter the bathroom. 

A bit after cooling off, I go back to the dinner table, them all still waiting and chatting about school. Well, Shouta being nearly silent as usual. Hizashi quickly stands up to let me sit between them again. Ugh, I really don’t want to. 

Yet I do, just to be kind. The least I can do is sit through this since they went through the effort of such a gift, even though to me it seems highly unnecessary. 

Tadao comes with our food not much later with a secret frown on his face. He’s smiling, but I’ve learned him well enough by now it’s worry he has instead of a cheerful personality. It slightly drops to reveal his true emotions when he notices the guys glaring at him yet again. He doesn’t say a word, just drops all of the food off and leaves. 

This feels like a really ruined dinner, even though this food is incredibly good. The atmosphere has definitely become shit. I seem to be the only one to notice. Hizashi looks over towards me and gives me another grin, not giving much comfort. What’s worse is every time I stop for a moment and rest my hand on my lap, Shouta seems to try to grab it. It led me to just keeping the utensil for my dinner in my hand. 

I’ll have to apologize to Tadao for their behavior tomorrow. Easier said than done since I still can’t exactly tell him who they are. Cursed contract. 

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

taglist-

@dabi-s-whore, @angelicblackwolf, @fuegy-fuegy   

Double fun fact- Did you know slapping someone’s back if they’re choking is actually worse than letting them try to get it out themselves, especially if it’s food? The food can actually get lodged deeper in their throat at the impact. Huh, First Aid is quite interesting.

[crystal-moon-101]

Charmcaster and Mike!💚

I present to you the chaotic magical duo! They were pretty fun to draw with their colours and different body shapes, and these two I've been really wanting to talk about since I've made a lot of rewrite changes for them. Before I get into that, I recommend you read my Dagon Arc Rewrite, to get a better idea of where I've taken these characters, as I involved them quite a bit in that story line. Albedo will be the next redesign eventually, and I'm glad people are liking what I'm doing with these characters so far.

-Mike Morningstar-

Soooo, Mike. He's always been an interesting concept to me, because there are two ways you could make his character go. One way is to just go full out with the creep and power hungry factor, making him a villain through and through, which can provide a very eerie character, which is the route canon mostly too. The other way, which I've taken, is you could make him a very complicated character, tragic even, with the idea of "If someone was born with dark magic, how would the world treat them", and since canon (Both the original series and reboot timeline) as taken the more evil villain approached, I'm taking a much different approach because I think his story can add a lot of interesting dynamics. In terms of his design, I went for the "rich winter" outfit aesthetic, since this lad does know his fashion and tastes.

Mike is an Apotrodite from his mother's side, the dark magic equivalent of Anodites. This means Mike primarily uses dark magic, but unlike other people, his Apotrodite sides means he is in full control of himself, and can't be tainted by dark magic. But that doesn't mean everything goes well...

His parents are Lilith Morningstar and Samael Morningstar, both Plumbers who work in the magical department of things, and since Lilith can use dark magic without it corrupting her, the two get a hefty amount of money working in a field only they can really handle. So they're a very rich family, owning two mansions on earth, and some holiday homes.

Mike was an...accident, not something planned, but his parents wanted to see what it was like, not realizing how raising a child takes a lot of work, especially one that was born half Apotrodite. You see, since Mike was only half, his dark magic didn't come naturally to him for a while, needing to adjust and train himself. There were worries Mike would end up hurting someone, which both Lilith and Samael were nervous about, since Apotrodites didn't have a good reputation anywhere for their use of dark magic. They feared that if Lilith or Mike made a mistake, they'll both be shipped back to their homeworld, which none of them wanted...

Sadly, a mistake did happen one day. Mike didn't mean too, it just happened suddenly, but he ended up hurting two other kids in Plumber Kindergarden, giving one magical burns, and nearly draining the life out of another. He felt horrible over what happened, and couldn't stop sobbing for the rest of the day as everyone debated what to do, and had a long discussion with Mike's parents. Lilith and Samael ended up pulling Mike out from school to homeschool him from now on...and didn't trust Mike to leave the house on his own ever, the fears getting the better of them. So...you could say Mike's childhood was rather lonely and depressing. Eventually as he grew older, he got into lots of arguments with his parents, until finally snapping and running away sometime after his encounter with Ben and his friends. If everyone was going to treat him like a monster, then he might as well be what they say he was and do it being free...

Mike does have an Apotrodite form, much like how Gwen has an Anodite form, but he hardly ever turns into it, even if it would save him energy and make his human form 'rot' less. He doesn't like being reminded of what he is, the reason behind all his problems...

He loves cats, and has always wanted one since he learnt about them.

Mike did end up helping Charmcaster when she was losing herself in omniverse, during the final fight with her. He was one of the few who managed to snap her out of her insanity, and later when she was recovering, she tracked him down with the help of Ben, and managed to convince him to come to Ledgerdomain with her, wanting to repay him for his help. Along with knowing that Mike was really just lonely and tired with the world...something she could relate too...

His hasn't been in contact with his parents since running away from home, and they haven't made an effort to reach out to him, not sure how to approach their son after what he became...

Mike and Hex have a very...awkward dynamic, since neither know how to talk to the other, especially regarding Charmcaster.

Loves scarfs, he just likes the way they look and feel.

-Hope Charmcaster-

Miss Charmcaster, a character who keeps spinning on that plot merry go round. She was defiantly someone who went insane due to how often the writing changed her up, which is a shame since she is a very interesting character, so that's what I'm here for. For her redesign, I've always loved the idea of her being short, plump and very curvy, and entirely confident with her body and looks. She knows she's hot, and owns it. I kept her outfit similar to her original and omniverse style, but played around with the look of it.

Her mother died at childbirth, so her father had to raise her own his own, with the help of Uncle Hex from time to time. Eventually after what happened in Ledgerdomain with Addwaitya, Hex has been looking after her since she was 8, but it wasn't easy, especially when he started tapping into dark magic to find ways to fight Addwaitya, and eventually going power hungry. Charmcaster knows Hex was trying his best, but there are things she can't forgive him for, even if they're getting better during her recovery.

She has black markings on her hands due to her use of the Alpha Rune and dark magic. The Alpha Rune also left a mark on her chest right above her heart. She is subconscious about these things, and tends to hide them from everyone and herself.

Ben 100% had a crush on her as a kid, and she knows it.

Charmcaster has a sweet tooth, and loves desserts. Her favorite is cake, strawberry cake to be precise.

She's still trying to be the Queen of Ledgerdomain, which isn't easy with what's left of it, but she's slowly getting them and creating a new age for the Kingdom, having opened it out to any magic user in the galaxy that needs a place to go.

Gwen and Charmcaster have been building up a nice friendship finally now that Charmcaster is getting help. It's been sweet, with Gwen doing normal teen and girl stuff that Charmcaster hasn't been able to do in years. The little things always remind her that she is human after all.

She is still on the hunt for Addwaitya with the help of Gwen, Hex, Mike and the Plumbers, after the turtle managed to run away during the fight against her.

Later on Mike and Charmcaster do meet other Apotrodites, and visit their homeworld, and does feel bad for their situation. They pair end up letting a good chunk of them move to Ledgerdomain, where it will be safe for them from the outside galaxy, and their contribution of dark magic knowledge really helps Ledgerdomain in the long run.

[adhdeancas]

12x01 Rewrite with Trans Dean

trigger warnings for minor mention of dysphoria. Also minor/negligent transphobia. 

“Mom?” His heart is stopped in his chest, staring at the face he’s kept in his head for all of his life, the face he’s thought of as the only real home he’s ever had. She looks the same, exactly the same. “I… uh, are you really… real?” 

He reaches out without thinking, needing to just make sure that Amara didn’t bring back a fantasy or a ghost or a sick joke. She proves it without him touching her, flipping him in a neat trick he recognizes from his own training and ending up with her foot on his neck, pressing him into the dirt. “Where am I? Who the hell are you?”

She looks so scared. Dean swallows, his Adam’s apple bouncing against the bottom of her foot. He needs to make her trust him, preferably before she does something rash like snap his neck. “I’m Dean Winchester. I’m your son. I’m… Sam’s brother”

The pressure lets up on Dean’s neck even though Mary’s shaking her head. “No. No, I don’t have two boys. They’re- they’re just kids.”

Dean winces, breathing heavily. This is gonna be a motherfucker for her to understand. Still, Mary lets him up, and he stands and rubs his neck, trying desperately to recall every bit of information he’s stored away about his mom. “Mom. Listen to me. Your name- your name is Mary Sandra Campbell, okay? You were born December 5, 1954, to Samuel and Deanna Campbell. Your father, he bounced around a lot for, uh, work, and you bounced right along with him, and you ended up in Lawrence, Kansas.”

Mary flinches, the facts hitting straight-on. “How do you know all that?” 

“Dad told me.” Dean tells her. He doesn’t tell her that he had to gather the story from slurred words, drunken tears in between stories about the perfect wife. That he recited them in his head like a prayer so he wouldn’t forget her. “March 23, 1972, you walked out of a movie theater - Slaughterhouse-Five. You loved it, and you bumped into a big Marine and you knocked him flat on his ass. You were embarrassed, and he laughed it off, said you could make it up to him with a cup of coffee. So, you went to, uh,” God, what was the name of that stupid place? “Mulroney’s, and you talked and he was cute and he knew the words to every Zeppelin song,” A memory of a smiling young alive Mary comes to mind, and he pushes it away because it hurts. She’s right there. “So when he asked you for your number, you gave it to him, even though you knew your dad would be pissed. That was the night that -” You fell in love with- “that you met -”

“John Winchester.”

“August 19, 1975, you were married… in Reno. Your idea.”Dean had always thought that was hilarious. He looks her in the eyes again, pleading with her to not dispute the next part. “A few years later, I came along, then Sammy.”

“No, no. My oldest was a girl, Deanna.” Mary looks Dean up and down, taking in his short hair, wide shoulders, and flat chest. He crosses his arms over that now, uncomfortable, hoping she isn’t looking at his long eyelashes or his delicate cheekbones or his hips. All the places he’s insecure about. 

“Yeah, um… that’s me.” He looks up at her, his jaw clenching, waiting for the ball to drop. “I shortened the name a little, and the- uh- hair.” He tries for the old charming smile as he runs a hand through the spiky hair he hasn’t let grow out in 20 years. It doesn’t quite get there, settling at a more delicate need for approval. Mary doesn’t give it to him. “Do you believe me?”

She bypasses the question, turning her eyes away from him to look at the car behind him. Something changes in her eyes. “I burned.” She says quietly, like she’s remembering the heat. Dean swallows. He remembers the heat too. “How long have I been gone?”

“33 years.” His voice cracks. 

Mary looks back to him, and she moves forward, putting two gentle fingers to his cheek, to the freckles sprayed across soft skin. He’s had them forever, even when he was little. “Dee?” She calls him by his old nickname; Dean’s doubly thankful that he doesn’t use his deadname. 

“Hi, mom.” There are tears in his eyes.

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

“How did he die?”

Dean bows his head. He’s really not selling himself too good here, is he? First the trans thing, now- “He gave himself up for me.” He’ll be surprised if Mary wants anything to do with him. Surprisingly, she chuckles and sniffles. 

“That does sound like John.” He looks over, and she’s smiling. His brow furrows. Killing himself to save Dean’s ass does sound like John, but not in a way that makes him want to smile. “And he was a hunter? And he raised-” She stutters now, looking at him again and looking away just as quickly. “You and Sam to be-”

“Yeah, he did.” A cold weight is settling in Dean’s stomach, and he tries and fails to not let it seep into his words.

“And you said we’ve met before, when you traveled through time,”

Dean nods. It had been horrible and amazing to see Mary and have her see him, just as some guy. A guy, at all. “Twice. Your memory got wiped, so…” So you don’t remember me telling you I was your kid, and you not believing me. I do.

“And you’re… my daughter-”

Dean coughs. He hasn’t been called a daughter in a long-ass time. “No, I’m- I mean. I was. I know it’s a lot. And I’ll explain everything. I will. But right now, let’s get out of here. Let’s get you home. Come on, Mom.”

She doesn’t correct him, which means she must believe, at least a little bit, that she is his mom. 

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

“You live here?” She looks around the cavernous space and he smiles, looking around too. It really is awesome. 

“Yeah, when we’re not on the road. It’s an old Men of Letters bunker.”

“Men of Letters?” She scoffs. Dean grins a bit and looks at her. He thinks he likes her. “They’re a myth. An old hunter’s story.”

He tilts his head. He’s just gonna keep blowing her mind today, apparently. “Not so much. New duds look good.” He gestures to her clothes. He’d lent her some extra clothes he’d had in the trunk, and he tries not to fixate on how they weren’t that big on her. He’s not much taller than her, and he knows part of that even is the heeled boots he’s wearing. 

“Well, thanks. It’s better than walking around in that nightgown the rest-” Dean’s nodding, about to say something extremely awkward like ‘Yeah, nightgowns are a bitch,’ when he finally looks at what she’s staring at, spattered on the floor of the bunker. “That’s blood.”

 “Yeah.” Dean’s heart leaps into his throat, but he goes into autopilot before he can think about freaking out. He takes his gun out from his pants and cocks it, clearing the immediate area. A blurred sigil on the wall puts another bolt of fear through his chest. “Sammy? Cas?” He winces at how high his voice goes.

He takes the Map Table’s gun out from its hiding place and hands it to Mary. She was a hunter too, and he’s not about to leave her unarmed to clear the place. “Take this. Stay here.” Dean takes off immediately. It isn’t until he’s moving on to check the kitchen that he hears the voice. Mary’s clear as a bell, saying, 

“Hands, now,”

Dean’s in the room before he can think about it. His heart practically comes undone when he sees that dumb familiar trench coat. He puts his body between Cas and his mom’s gun immediately, hoping she will trust him enough not to shoot through him. “Whoa, whoa, whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa! It’s okay, it’s okay. He’s a friend, all right?” He meets Cas’s eyes and sees the utter relief in his eyes, and a surge of warmth fills his chest. “Hey, Cas.”

It’s a lackluster greeting when they both thought they’d never see each other again, and Cas shows it when he steps forward quickly and pulls Dean into a tight hug. “Dean!”

Dean grins and pats his back. “Hey, okay. All right,” He comforts him quietly. 

“Dean, you’re alive?” Cas pulls away and looks him over, like he’s afraid Dean might disappear. Dean nods, understanding; he had done the same thing to Mary, after all.

“Yeah.”

“What about the bomb and the Darkness? What happened?”

“I’ll tell you everything. Where is Sam?”

“He’s not here.” Obviously. Dean could smack him, but his face wants to break into a fond smile instead. He represses both urges.

“Are you a hunter?”

“No, I’m an angel.”

“He’s an angel.” Dean says over Cas. They look at each other and then back at Mary. 

“Come again?”

“An angel, with a capital A,” Dean clarifies. He feels, ridiculously, a little bit like he’s showing off. Showing Cas off. “You know, wings, harp.”

“No, I don’t have a harp.”

Dean laughs. “This is Castiel. Cas, this is… Mary. Winchester.”

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

“It’s been kinda weird, here. You know, with mom being back?” And learning that her baby girl is now a full grown man? “It’s like we don’t know how to act around each other, so we just kinda make this small talk, and act like it’s normal, but it’s- it’s so not normal.” Dean can hear the pleading in his voice. 

“What has she said to you?” Cas asks quickly. Dean bites his lip to hide the smile he’s trying to get from hearing Cas get all angry and protective on his behalf. He’s reminded of the time Cas looked him directly in the face and said, ‘Dean Winchester, if anyone is ever transphobic to you, I will smite them immediately and without any remorse.’ And before Dean could make a quip about internalized transphobia, Cas added, ‘Do not make me do that to you.’

“Well, nothing. That’s- that’s the whole point.” It’s the kind of thing most people usually wanna go over, what the fuck gender their kid is? He’s pretty sure no news does not mean good news in this context.

“Okay, what have you said to her?”

“Well, nothing. I’m- I don’t know what to say to her, y’know? It’s like it’s all too much, and I don’t wanna overwhelm her.” 

“Dean, your identity is not ‘too much.’” Cas says immediately. Dean sighs. That wasn’t what he meant, even though he has said something similar before. Something when he was lonely and sad and feeling like explaining his dick to a one night stand was too complicated for him to do to even assuage it that way.

“No- I know. It’s not that. It’s… everything.”

Now it’s Cas’s turn to sigh. “Don’t make things unnecessarily complicated, as you humans tend to do. I’ll call you.” He hangs up. 

Dean lets the phone fall with his arm limp to his side. “Yeah. Great. That’s helpful.” He says to the empty air. “That’s helpful.” Asshole.

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

They’re in the car, and Dean is driving, and there is too much going on. He’s not sure whether he’s happy that Cas is in the backseat for this conversation or not. “So you’re… my Deanna.”

Dean’s hands tighten on the wheel. He looks at them and ignores the voice in his head that says they are petite. Womanly. “Uh, yeah. I was born Deanna Jane Winchester.” He clears his throat and meets Cas’s eyes in the rearview. He gives him a little nod, and Dean continues. “I’m… It’s called trans.”

Dean risks a look over at Mary, and she’s playing with her ring. “So you… wanted to be a boy.” 

Dean clears his throat again. He’s pretty sure he does it every time before he talks, and he’s also pretty sure his voice gets lower every time he talks, too. He swears it’s an automatic reflex. 

“Dean’s soul is- that of a human man.” Cas interrupts, saying it like that clarifies things. The corner of Dean’s mouth tilts up a little bit. Cas did tell him that he could see his soul, and also told him that it was, and he quotes ‘A color more similar to that of a men than women.’ Which, yeah, that tracks. He guesses Cas leaves off the ‘more similar’ part to make things simpler for Mary.

“And so you…” Mary trails off, a finger pointing toward his chest aborting its mission when she realizes it might be rude. 

Dean raises an eyebrow with amusement. “Cut my tits off? Yeah.” He takes a hand off the wheel to raise his shirt, proudly showing off his top surgery scars. Mary trails a hand along them, feeling the raised skin. “After Sammy went to college. It was a bitch of a few weeks, but it was worth it.”

Mary takes her hand away and nods, brows furrowed like she’s trying to wrap her head around it. Dean grins. The grin freezes awkwardly, the edges tilting down, when Mary opens her mouth again. “So you have a-”

Cas coughs loudly in the back seat. Dean meets his wide eyes with a similar expression, and Mary cuts off the question, catching onto the fact she said something wrong. “Don’t think we really need to go there, do we, mom?”

That was a question for him and whatever lucky son of a bitch (gender neutral) ended up in his bed at the end of the night. “Right.” Mary says quickly. She turns her whole body then, asking, “Is that why you like men?”

Dean only swerves a little, he swears. The car coming the opposite direction doesn’t seem to agree, holding its horn long and hard. Luckily, it gives him a moment to stutter less obviously. 

“Sorry, I just meant- since you two are-” Mary gestures between Cas and Dean, and Dean blinks his eyes solidly, trying to convince himself this is really happening.

“No! I mean, we-” Dean doesn’t have the balls (hehe) to look at Cas in the back seat, but he can see the trench coat shifting out of his peripheral. “I’m not-”

“Was John okay with this?”

Dean laughs. It comes out bitter and dark. “Dad didn’t much give a fuck what I did with my body. He’d given up on grandkids about the time he saw how decent I was at hunting, so my long hair wasn’t a personal loss.” He knew I wasn’t gonna live long enough to give him grandkids, not without some self-sacrifice on John’s part.

Mary looks a little shocked at his outburst, and Dean almost feels bad for being so blunt and crass. But then he remembers growing up with John as his male role model, and he tightens his jaw. No, the bluntness and crassness was accurate. “Oh.”

“... Yeah.” Dean bites his lip and risks another glance at his mom. 

“So, you’re okay with this?” He waves a hand at himself. Asking if she was okay with him was just too pathetic, even for him. She looks at him uncertainly, a frown he recognizes as his own on her face.

“I don’t think I’m okay with any of this, Dean. But… I guess I’ll adjust.”

[cinnamonest]

Yandere Profile -- Eijiro Kirishima

Ahhh I finally finished this one! I love my loud red boy bless him

For @shorkbrian !!

Tws:  Fem reader, yandere, delusional mindsets, kidnapping, manipulation, stalking, mentions of death, normal yandere content, mentions of a high school setting

Tws (below cut): Noncon, throatfucking, pain content

This is also the first time I'm including my new severity scale (which I just made a post about before this one) in a profile!

================

Severity Scale

Intelligence/Perceptiveness: 6 Brutality: 5 Physical capability: 9 Mental/emotional instability: 6 Restrictiveness: 5 Sexual sadism: 6 Stubbornness: 8

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

He's actually not one of the yanderes that stalks from a distance - he's not so nervous that he can't approach you, no, he's comfortable enough to talk to you in person. Being away from you physically is almost painful, he wants to spend as much time with you as possible. He's also one you might catch onto a little bit, because he's just on the border of being a little lacking in self awareness to the point that he doesn't always realize when he's smothering you. Of course, it aligns well enough with his general personality that you won't think too much of it, just that he can be a little overbearing or clingy.

That being said, he does do his fair share of information collecting when you're not together. Boy is a master at data collection - he'll find socials you forgot you had, posts you made years ago, every major information collection site there is, he'll use to find everything he can about you. Your socials, your friends' socials, your relatives' socials. Even if you have one of those apps that lets you see who's stalking you on your social media, he's already planned ahead for that, and uses a variety of burner accounts so you never notice a thing.

Especially in later stages, as his mental stability is slowly worn down, he's prone to the classic yandere persona flip. Can go from his usual very energetic, spirited, happy go lucky sort of demeanor and, in very shocking and unexpected moments, become highly aggressive towards others, or even snap at you with an uncharacteristic coldness. However, he's aware enough to know he's doing it, and quickly backpedals once he does, apologizing and telling you he's just having a really bad day. Only these "bad days" seem to pile up quite a bit as time goes on.

Similarly, he becomes more delusional with time. At first he might actually be fairly receptive towards your friends, even male ones, and while his behaviors and stalking is present, it's not over-the-top just yet. It will take a few months but gradually he finds himself slipping into an increasing pattern -- just one more hour sitting outside your dorm room, just one more text, one more post of yours from five years ago, just one more of this or that and soon it's completely spiraled out of his control.

He's also aware enough at first to realize you might not be too keen on, you know, essentially imprisonment. If it weren't so fucked up, it would almost be funny to watch him - rehearsing the whole speech he will have to give to darling when she wakes up to himself in the mirror, nervously pacing, not making eye contact the whole time he's explaining himself and later finishing off telling you you're here forever with a "so, uh, yeah," and a nervous little laugh. He's a bit panicked himself but will do his best to calm poor darling down, and, as he tells himself, your initial reaction will be bad, but you'll adjust.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

He's surprisingly patient and can bide his time. If you're good, he's one of a few where you may be able to prolong your freedom and evade captivity for a very long time, years even. In order to achieve this, though, you'll have to never question his very much questionable behaviors, listen to him when he says not to talk to anyone else, spending every waking moment with him, that sorta thing. So really, it only works for a very naive darling who is already paranoid of others. For most people, who will, you know, call him out on his bullshit, he'll change his mind about letting you be free pretty quickly.

This is especially true if he feels like he's losing you -- if you just get upset that's one thing, but if he senses you're starting to become wary of him or even avoid him, he'll be pushed to the edge very quickly. He's not the brightest when it comes to his methods, most likely opting for a very simple break-in during your sleep or kidnapping you on the way home sort of deal.

He was something of this "waiting period," a time some types of yanderes have where they try to be normal. These types of yanderes are most likely to start of their relationships as normal and organic and only gradually devolve, or snap, into a higher state of delusion and unhealthy behavior. He's no exception to this, and you may get a few months of a very normal relationship with only small red flags that seem to be gradually increasing. 

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape? 

To escape, only moderate difficulty, actually. To stay escaped? That's a different story.

You see, he's got a slight predator-prey thing going on and will most likely give you a window of opportunity here or there (not a lot, only when he's carefully arranged it out). Early on he has a tracking device implanted in you while you're knocked out, but never tells you about it. He'll let you get a little ways, never so far that there's any risk, and always stays within very close proximity. Watching your worried eyes as you can't shake the feeling of something watching you, knowing you're questioning your own sanity in your state of paranoia. It's really cute, watching you dart your head back and forth into the shadows, every which way except for the actual place he's standing. Will wait until you inevitably run into seclusion, when you take that turn onto a corner with no eyewitnesses, when you duck into a business closed for the night for cover, and he'll have a hand around your mouth before you can even make a noise.

He knows he should be mad, but he gets off to it so much it's hard to be genuinely angry rather than just... Roughly exerting the pent up energy into you. Which in and of itself is something of a punishment.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

It's a mix of "more intelligent than he lets on," and "still kinda on the dull side." In particular, he's not very good at telling when someone is lying. It's honestly a coin toss every time you try, which actually makes it more difficult, really. You'll be just hopeful enough that maybe you can deceive him on this one thing, but there's a 50-50 chance it won't work. Unlike a super intelligent yandere who you automatically know better than to try, you'll keep getting your hopes up and trying with him, which ultimately results in more punishments when it fails.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He's moderate on allowances, but still restrictive on contact. As in, he'll get you the things you want, especially once he's making tons of money as a pro. Lets you have a highly controlled phone, complete with internet, but given a lock to prevent commenting or sending or uploading of any kind (aside from messages to him, of course). He doesn't really care too much about the media you consume or whatnot, but if he decides he doesn't like something specifically -- say, youtube videos on lockpicking -- then he'll probably take it away for a time until he can figure out how to better control it.

He's one to let you roam his place to an extent, once again it's a case-by-case basis of "you have this privilege until you do something to lose it." You can cook and access the kitchen until an incident of you hurting yourself or attacking him. You can watch tv and roam around until you break something intentionally out of spite. That sort of thing -- he deals with the problems when they arise, but is generally fairly lenient on your allowances, so really it's very unwise to take that privilege for granted, since it's a lot more than what a lot of yans would allow.

When you're really really good, he'll definitely let you go out with him. As we'll discuss, he likes to emulate normalcy, and really likes the fun kind of dates - theme parks and movies and the like. It'll be quite a while before you get to this stage though, as he has to feel 100% confident you won't try anything at all. Of course, if you do try anything, the privilege will be lost until you earn it back. However, this will also be entirely undercover on his end, probably wearing masks and sunglasses or the like. He doesn't want people to see you with him and recognize him, like a lot of the mha yans, he fears the potential of someone using you against him.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Once again a "make them up as you go" guy. Listen, he didn't plan much beyond the initial kidnapping you and security, so there's a lot he hasn't thought about. From day one, what's made clear is you're not to leave and that you need to accept the way things are as soon as possible, and you know, be a doll and be sweet for him. As time goes on things get added -- don't look up this or that, don't attack or resist, don't backtalk him, don't give him the cold shoulder, etc etc. Over time it will amount to a lot, actually, you see, he's got a very specific image of how you should behave in his mind. Anything that deviates from that will quickly become a rule. So it's kind of like a puzzle for poor darling, you're not given an exact image of what you're supposed to act like or what you're not allowed to do, you just gradually find out with trial and error and an ever-growing behavioral rule list what is and isn't acceptable

.He can't stand isolation punishments, can't take being away from you for that long. He might try at first, but, almost comically, he cracks very early and brings you back out (just went you thought you were gonna get a break from him). It's primarily, (in our sfw section) a matter of losing privileges. To him, he knows that one of the worst punishments is boredom, so he'll take away your things that occupy you and leave you with nothing, potentially restraining you to a single room, so that you eventually cave and apologize.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

He uses social methods or underhanded, subtle tricks to eliminate people rather than killing them. Frames them for stealing, or some other misdeed to get them expelled, ruins their social reputation, fakes messages to make you hate them, maybe even to make them hate you. that's during the school-age stages of things. Now, an older hero Kirishima, definitely uses his status to get things done the way he wants. Come on, who in their right mind would try to take the girl of a pro hero to begin with? They were asking for it. He has a few similar methods -- ruins their public image, frames them for a crime, or, if they're persistent enough, may very well just use a couple connections to make sure they disappear -- potentially disappear entirely, or perhaps get permanently hospitalized from a bad accident, become the random victim of some villains, etc.

That being said, during the pre-kidnapping stages, he's definitely gonna start fights with other dudes for looking at you the wrong way. Even if it's horrifically embarrassing, he thinks of it as a show of manliness. You'll eventually have to pull him off and calm him down before he pummels the poor victim of choice completely. Over time, this earns him a reputation for being insanely protective, and it makes people start to avoid both him and you, which is all the better in his mind.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

With most things, he's pretty slow to anger, tries to be very patient and understanding. You have to wittle down that patience with repeated and deliberate disobedience to get a snap out of him - which is highly possible, considering poor darling initially is given no bad reaction. You'll think he's a pushover since he doesn't get super mad the first time, or the second or third, so when he finally does snap it's pretty frightening - it's all the irritation bottled up and released at once.

He tries hard to project the image of who he's known to be - a chill, good natured, optimistic guy, which is why he manages to be so patient. He doesn't want that image ruined for you, and he's very very particular about, and worries about, the image of him in your mind. He has a deep need for you to see him as a heroic figure, to look up to him, and to see him as above you, so he doesn't want to ruin that with violence and anger.

It's usually a literal snap of some sort - whatever he's holding gets slammed down on the table, or crushed or snapped in half (say, a glass or pen). His voice gets low, and builds up into a snarl. Definitely one to grab you by the hair. Drags you to wherever he deems a suitable place to take care of your issues.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

He doesn't think about these things too much, and really, he's somewhat in the middle or can even fluctuate. A lot of it depends on you. If you're good and obedient, he treats you like you're an angel, says he doesn't deserve you. Now, if you're not being so good, he might sometimes let the frustrations slip out into some bitterness, likewise muttering that you should be a bit more grateful that someone like him loves you so much.

That being said, he does want you to see him as above you, wants you to look up to him and, simply, he wants you to think he's amazing and heroic! He goes out of his way to repeatedly impress you with displays of strength and the like, and, like a lot of the hero yanderes, will frequently subject you to watching the news of him saving people. He exaggerates his heroics significantly and makes sure you know just how many people he saved, and of course, he makes sure to show you every girl that blows up his phone after finding his number somehow, all the adoring females fans, and so on, in a very blatant attempt to make you jealous -- having all those fans does get his ego going a bit.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

Definitely strongly determined. He wants not only your acceptance, but also to somewhat normalize the relationship. He emulates a lot of normal behaviors like aforementioned dates, but also things like "date night" at home (cuddles on the couch and watching TV, playing games, takeout etc), little good morning texts for you to wake up to when he has to leave early, making food together. It's so tender and sweet that sometimes you could almost forget that you're being trapped against your will. It also, of course, is very beneficial for his imperatives, considering that that sweetness will only help you adjust more quickly.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Probably the previously noted extent to which he strives towards a very butchered resemblance of normalcy. It's like he wants to just be a normal couple... but he doesn't, he can't. I'd say that even he himself kind of struggles with it a bit -- psychologically, he's one of the yanderes that deludes himself because he has to. It doesn't come super naturally, it's that, being forced to recognize how unhealthy and harmful his extreme controlling and possessiveness is, to come to terms with the fact that those urges aren't normal... the guilt would eat him alive if he actually stopped to think about that, if he actually allowed himself to admit that reality to himself. So, he doesn't. He will push that thought away, even though it does exist somewhere deep down, until the day he dies. He couldn't live with himself if he didn't delude himself into believing it's all necessary, and that he's good to you. A lot of his more lenient tendencies stem from this.

It's a conflict between parts of his brain -- a duality of sorts. One part says he wants the normalcy -- he wants dates and love and sex and fun and he wants it all organically, he doesn't want to be a kidnapper, doesn't want to have to do these things. But as much as he wishes he didn't have to, the other part of him does, in fact, say that he has to do these things. Yanderes that have these sorts of internal conflicts due to a strong sense of morality (which he DOES have, really) tend to have a "waiting period," as he does, which I mentioned above -- a time where they try to go about things normally but find themselves unable to.

As a result, I'd say he's one of the yanderes that's actually very likely to start off as an actual boyfriend, rather than a stranger or a friend. He's confident enough to ask you out and charming enough to get a yes, but he just can't control himself over time.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

Like some of my other yans I've discussed, he has what you call reactive sexuality. On his own, he's average for a young man, but once he has someone he really has a lot of affection for, that drive goes up significantly in their presence. There's a lot more stimulation, after all, it gets those hormones raging and the urge to fuck goes way up pretty quickly now that there's an availability.

He's moderate-to-heavy on the perversion for what you'd expect from a guy like himself. He's far from pure but he knows exactly how to teeter the line of being just gross enough to make you squirm and blush without being such a horndog that he actually offends you or drives you away. Not that he won't push that line as far as he can, constantly testing your boundaries.

As for touchiness, oof he's VERY touchy. Poor darling. It, like many things, increases with time in the pre-kidnapping stage -- even from the get go he's prone to slinging an arm over your shoulder or leaning on you, but that progresses into gradual soft gropes that you almost feel like you imagined, and extended touches, hands gripping your shoulders, etc. Post-kidnapping, very touchy all the time. Very much a cuddler and likes to grab at everything he can when he does so.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

It's eh, moderate, but ultimately, as in yandere nature, force will be used if necessary. He's so sweet about it at first that it almost doesn't even feel like it. He tells himself you're afraid, and any lashing out is just because of that. Even if you say he's the problem, he thinks that's just because you're embarrassed to admit you're scared. Everything you can come up with, he'll loop back to that rationalization. It helps him get over any potential guilt he'd otherwise have, which he certainly would if he didn't lie to himself.

He's so sweet about the whole thing its nauseating for poor darling. Wiping away any tears on your face, taking a long long time to prepare you up with fingers and touches and words, and telling you it'll be ok, that it only hurts for a second, that he'll make you feel so good, that you'll be happy this happened just as much as he is.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Oral fixation

This boy just... saying he wants you to blow him is understating it. He wants to throatfuck you -- grab you by the hair and use your face like a toy. In the beginning he'll be gentler, but he fantasizes about reaching a point at which he can really just go at it, train your gag reflex to be virtually non-existent. He likes to cum down your throat, but even more he loves pulling out at the last moment and telling you to hold your mouth open and tongue out, jerking off onto your tongue, getting some on your face, and telling you to swallow.

Roleplay/Lingerie

Specifically, he'll get into anything service related. Maid outfits galore. He loves treating you like a doll, really, dressing you up in whatever newest lewdest thing he can find. Definitely keeps up with the newest outfit trends of the egirl type of sphere -- loves the things like thigh highs, virgin killer sweaters, garters, anything of the sort. Very much into the "cutesy" type of stuff on you, expect lots of pastel colors and soft fluffy things. Also 100% will get a tail plug and animal ears of some kind. And it's not just for looks, he likes you to act out the role, too. He's actually super-blushy about the whole idea at first, but he does like the idea of being called "Master," especially when it's all soft and embarrassed coming out of your own mouth. 

Size difference/strength difference

It ties back into the thing of wanting you to look up to him. He loves loves loves seeing the faces and the little squeals you make for him when he gives you displays of raw strength - and he'll be sure to frequently remind you of exactly how strong he is. Standing-fucking, slinging you over his shoulder when he's dragging you back home, picking you up and throwing you on the bed, grabbing you by the hips and lifting your entire body up and down when you're on top of him and using you as effortlessly as if you were a near-weightless fleshlight.

No matter which size you may be, he loves it whichever way. If you're tiny and short it gives him an automatic power rush, but if you're larger and taller he loves that too - it gives him a massive ego boost that he can pin you down and control your body with such ease, bonus points if you thought he couldn't since you're bigger than he is.

Size kink pt 2

Also a size related thing, but specifically dick. Listen I refuse to believe this man doesn't have a girthy, thick dick. And he loves the things it can do to you -- the way you gasp and shudder, even little whimpers of pain. He feels bad if there's any pain, but he can't help but get off to the squeals just a little bit, the tears in your eyes are just so cute. Definitely loves making a visible bulge on your stomach, and will make sure you see it too, holding your head in place to force you to watch your stomach bulge every time he thrusts in. Bulging your throat is equally hot, as mentioned above. And he loves the way that there's just that slightly visible gape for a few minutes after he pulls out as your body adjusts.

Threeways

Perhaps very rare for a yandere, he's one of a few that isn't 100% opposed to sharing, provided it's with special individuals, namely a certain blonde friend. Not so much in the relationship aspect, but a sexual one, and it's very well-controlled on his end, with him having the ultimate power over the whole situation. There will always be things that only HE can do to you that no one else can, of course, and it's all only with those he trusts to never spill about your existence. Still, he just really really likes seeing you get spitroasted, really. Can you blame him?

And of course, he'll make sure to get reassurance from you that you only love him and don't care about Katsuki at all, and if he ever gets even the slightest feeling that that might not be the case, it's a kink he'll give up easily if it means soothing the potential raging jealousy.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

He actually really, really likes the thought of being a dad. It's sort of a pride thing, having a family he can love and support (it's not like you're gonna be allowed to work), showing you off to everyone. And of course, the emotional attachment you'll undoubtedly form, the dependency you'll have on him. 

Getting to watch cum drip out of you and never having to pull out is a nice bonus, too.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Big into overstim. It's perfect because it's a punishment that is both effective, doesn't technically hurt you, and releases all those good chemicals all at the same time. He doesn't initially want to hurt you too bad, but, if you're really bad -- either in terms of the severity of the offense or the number of times you continue to do it -- he can reach a point of anger at which he'll resort to impact-pain-based punishments, too. Ever the sweet one, he actually does research first to make sure he won't go too far and seriously injure you, but once's he's made all the right purchases, I could see him settling on riding crops, he will make you hurt.

And, really, because it all gets him off at the same time -- the strangled little cries and mewls and whimpers are so much hotter than they should  be. He likely blindfolds you the whole time, partially to increase your fear and anticipation, but also so that you don't know he's jerking off to the whole thing.

The aforementioned throatfucking is also an effective and very quick, straight-to-the-point punishment when need be. If he's super mad and doesn't have the self control to take you elsewhere he may very well just dump you on your knees and demand you open your mouth or else you'll be in for a lot more pain. If he's in that kind of borderline-sadist mood he can get cruel with it too -- cumming in your mouth but not letting you swallow, making you hold the gross taste against your tongue for several minutes, or, his favorite guilty pleasure he feels too bad making you do most of the time, slamming your face all the way down and holding his cock all the way down your throat, perfectly still. No matter how hard you try to pull back or beat on his thighs, he has an iron grip and will hold you there until you nearly pass out.

Also, hell, just fucking him can be a punishment if he wants it to be. He can manhandle you with such a brutality and strength that it's genuinely painful. You want to know what it feels like to have a, literally, rock-hard dick ramming into your cervix?

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Very much a thigh boy. Not only are they soft and pillowy, but he loves to bite and suck at the insides of your thighs and leave lots and lots of marks. They're just as much for you as they are for him. He makes sure you always wear shorts or short skirts (or nothing is fine too) to make sure said marks are always within your vision.

[bonesbuckleup]

Lord, this answer got long. I’m a little embarrassed about it, but I wrote it, so it’s getting posted. It’s a literal essay. Sorry but also not?

TLDR: Yes, the show is arguably unfair to Sokka about Kya, but it also follows a pattern where Sokka stays quiet about Bad Feelings and plays by the rules established for his character. Katara, meanwhile, grieves loudly and often, and appears to be under the impression that because Sokka’s grief is silent it doesn’t exist, which also fits her character/interactions completely. Neither of them are right or wrong, but it sets them up on inevitable collisions.

Now. If you want to join me on a cactus-juice fueled descent into madness, proceed below the cut.

Number one. We’re referring to this exchange in “The Southern Raiders,” where the Gaang is talking about Zuko and Katara going after the man who killed Kya, which is vicious and brutal and never reflected on:

Aang: You sound like Jet. Katara: It's not the same! Jet attacked the innocent. This man, he's a monster. Sokka: Katara, she was my mother, too, but I think Aang might be right. Katara (angry, yelling): Then you didn't love her the way I did! Sokka (visibly hurt, softly): Katara.

And that’s it. Upon returning, Katara apologizes to Aang and not, as Anon is absolutely correct in pointing out, to Sokka, who is 100% the more injured party. Now. Is it possible this is one of the rare missteps from the atla writers? Yes. Absolutely. Is that the answer I’m about to write a literal fucking essay about? No. Because it’s more painful fun to take it as face value and talk subtext.

First, a reminder that this show is fucking good at what it does. It teaches you how each character grieves as we go: Aang explodes, often triggering the Avatar state, usually crying or angry, and when he does try to repress his Bad Feelings it rarely lasts longer than a day; Toph either shuts down or gets mad, but either way she doesn’t like people seeing her having Bad Feelings and often storms away, knowing that she can’t control it no matter how much she might want to; Zuko yells at the sky in a rainstorm or yells at his dad in an underground tunnel or challenges Zhao to an Agni Kai or yells at his uncle in a jail cell and generally is an emotive nuclear bomb because the boy has feelings and if he keeps them inside for more than three seconds he might explode okay.

Then we have Katara and Sokka.

Let’s start with Katara, since she has the most textual and straightforward displays of grief. She’s really the only one to talk about Kya’s death in Book 1. If Sokka mentions it, it’s barely in passing. I don’t think we hear Hakoda address her death at all (which I’ll return to in a moment.) Katara’s grief is loud. It’s angry. It’s still very much a living thing for her. She thinks she sees Kya in the swamp and breaks down crying, and tells Aang and Sokka about it with no hesitation. When she’s angry and sad at Hakoda for leaving, she acts out and is visibly upset with him, yells at him, cries at him. She out-loud hates Zuko when she comes to the conclusion that he told her about Ursa and got her to talk about Kya to manipulate her. It isn’t that her grief is performative, because it’s a very real and terrible thing, but it’s a grief that’s to be witnessed.

Then, Sokka. Sokka’s grief is more complicated because it exists almost entirely in subtext, especially in regard to Kya. We really only hear him talk about Kya twice, both in Book 3. First, to Toph, when he tells her that he can’t remember what Kya looks like. Worth noting, however, that even though it is Sokka talking, this is still centered on Katara and Katara’s grief. The next time is when Zuko asks what happened to Kya, and Sokka tells the story that leads into the initial flashback. Sokka doesn’t talk about his mom. This is a fact of the show. It’s such a fact of the show that, in “Southern Raiders,” after the exchange at the start of this post, while Katara and Zuko are on the hunt, Sokka doesn’t bring up Kya again and is messing around with Aang. Like nothing has happened or is currently happening--which I’ll come back to in a moment.

So while we can use Kya as a perfect example of how Katara grieves, we can’t really use her for Sokka. So let’s use Yue instead. Moments we see (or don’t see) Sokka grieving Yue:

In the opening to Book 2, we briefly have a shot of Sokka with the moon imposed behind him.

“The Swamp,” where Sokka’s vision is of Yue accusing him of not protecting her. This one is one of the more textual moments of grief--”I think about Yue all the time”--but what’s awful great about it is how Sokka tells Aang and Katara. Aang, obviously, has no qualms about sharing his vision. Katara openly talks about seeing Kya. Sokka only tells them about Yue when explicitly asked. Even then, he doesn’t mention what she said to him. From this, we can assume that Sokka is still holding onto a lot of guilt over her death--guilt that he won’t let Aang and Katara see. Anyway. Moving on.

“The Serpent’s Pass.” After spending all day panic protecting Suki, he tells her that he lost someone, but doesn’t go much further into detail, just saying that he can’t when she tries to kiss him. Of course, this is all happening in front of the moon. Again, though, Sokka stays vague. He doesn’t tell her any details.

“The Puppetmaster,” Toph posits that maybe the moon spirit has gone mean and is kidnapping people. Sokka snaps at her, in a moment definitely meant for laughs, saying, “The Moon Spirit is a gentle, loving lady. She rules the sky with compassion and ... lunar goodness!” It is a funny moment, but here’s what we can take from it: Toph doesn’t know about Yue. Toph is a Feral Bastard a lot of the time, but she also knows where the line is, and I don’t think she’d’ve said that if she’d known.

“Boiling Rock,” in arguably the most quoted (and well deservedly so!) line in the entire show. “My first girlfriend turned into the moon.” “...that’s rough, buddy.” COMEDIC GOLD. Also, weirdly, the literal only time that Sokka explicitly tells someone about Yue in the course of the show.

“Ember Island Players” which I haven’t hit in my rewatch yet, but I definitely remember a moment where Suki asks Sokka when he was gonna tell her he made out with the moon, and he tearfully shushes her. Again, played for laughs, but the implication is that he still hasn’t told Suki about what happened.

This plays perfectly into the same way that Sokka (doesn’t) talks about his mom. When the Bad Feelings come, Sokka either avoids them and finds a distraction (Goofs with Aang--see, told ya we’d come back to that) or stays silent. When someone explicitly asks him about the Bad Feelings--what he saw in the swamp, what’s eating at him in “Sokka’s Master,��� why he’s panic-protecting Suki--he’ll answer, but often talks around the actual issue. (Interestingly, it’s in regard to Suki we see the most explicit manifestation of Sokka grieving as Azula taunts him during the invasion: he cries, he attacks Azula, he yells and questions her despite the fact he knows she’s wasting their time. I think this one hits him because, as this beautiful post points out, Suki’s the protector in the relationship, and Sokka can actually chill out for 2 seconds. But he let his guard down, and Azula got Suki. Anyway. That’s probably a different essay: back to the matter at hand.) We even see this in “Boiling Rock.” There’s a moment where they think Hakoda is not with the other political prisoners. Sokka’s tense, drawn tight, but the only thing he says is, “No.”

Basically, we’ve got Katara, who grieves loudly and rages and is kinda like white-water rapids that churn and churn and churn. And we’ve got Sokka, who, to quote John Mulaney, looks at his grief and says, “I’ll just keep all my emotions right here and then one day I’ll die.” Iceberg grief, to keep the water metaphor going.

And where did these come from? Yup! Water Tribe gender roles! What we know from the show is that, while the South is typically more progressive (women can train as benders and marry who they want, at least) than the North, it’s still very rigid: the men are warriors/hunters/protectors, the women stay home to cook/clean/child-rear.

Now: subtext! And why I think they are this way!

We’ll start with Katara. The last waterbender in the South Pole. She no doubt grew up doted on. If I say she’s most likely a little spoiled, I don’t mean it in a bad way--I mean it in a she’s the last living remnant of this aspect of their culture kind of way. When raiders come, she’s probably the first priority to protect. Kya dies to keep her safe. Her needs are generally put before the community as a whole. (This isn’t to say that Katara doesn’t contribute or care about her community, because she 100% does). But! Especially in Book 1, we see Katara often considering her opinions as facts (trusting Jet, the waterbending scroll) and doesn’t always pause to consider the larger impact that her actions will have (scroll and Jet again, challenging Pakku, dressing up as the Painted Lady despite the fact the factory will hold the village responsible). And many of these actions are good! But we see a lot of Katara being pretty self-centered--what can I do, how does this impact me, how do I feel about this? And this isn’t a bad thing! This aspect of her character makes her complicated and complex! Katara loves her family and protecting people and caring for them! She’s extremely empathetic! But she also struggles to meet people where they’re at when they emote in a different way than she does (see: her clashes with Toph, her initial problems with Zuko joining the group, the above interaction with Sokka). It’s also worth talking about how Katara witnessed her mother’s death, which no doubt makes her grief about it a sharper thing.

Then, again, Sokka. Also loved in his community! But a normal kind of love, I’d assume. He probably was raised on stories of the Fire Nation dragging waterbenders away. No one exemplifies the Water Tribe ride-or-die mentality quite as well as Sokka, or the gender roles of the man as the warrior/protector, so you gotta believe Hakoda raised that kid to look after his sister at all costs, which we see throughout the show (already preparing to go after Aang in the South Pole because he know Katara’s going anyway, “You burned my sister!”) And he isn’t there when his mom dies. He finds out later. He goes from feeling like a victor who helped chased the raiders away to the worst realization of his life. I have to imagine he’s ashamed by the fact that he thought everything was going to be okay, which leads into his worldview of assuming that nothing is okay ever in any circumstance.

Finally, Hakoda. Who never, unless I’ve forgotten something, talks about Kya. All we know is that their family fell apart after her death (per Sokka in “The Runaway,” learning how Katara stepped up to hold everything together) and sometime after he took the warriors and straight up left. He apologizes for leaving but doesn’t address the fact that he left Katara and Sokka with no parents at all, only the war. This is, uh, not exactly echoing a healthy coping mechanism?

My theory: Kya dies. Since the Water Tribe is so embedded in gender roles, Hakoda probably shut down and/or checked out emotionally for a while. This leaves his kids on their own to deal with their shit, and we learn Katara does everything she can to keep her family going. As the most protected individual in the South, Katara’s probably been taught that emotions equal attention, and uses her temper/caring/sadness to help bring her community closer. Meanwhile, Sokka, who hero worships his dad, watches Hakoda go stoic and learns that “real men” shove their shit down. Additionally, Katara’s grief is deafeningly loud, and Sokka’s number 1 role is to keep Katara safe. He’s taught that the Bad Feelings only get in the way and make things worse, and so he learns to be fine no matter what kind of terrible is going down around him.  Basically, Katara learns to use grief as a needle and thread, and Sokka learns to bury it as deep as he can and avoid it at all costs. Opposite reactions to the same trauma. Katara gets mad and demands to be heard and listened to and seen, and Sokka gets sarcastic and prepares himself for the day the Fire Nation ships come back for his sister.

So. Back to those above lines from “Southern Raiders.”

From a writing standpoint, I do wish the final moment was between Katara and Sokka versus Katara and Aang. They could’ve had an almost identical interaction, but it would’ve been more nuanced. I don’t think that Katara needed to apologize, but I think we needed some acknowledgement from both of them: Katara continuing the lesson she’s learned about how her pain doesn’t entitle her to hurt other people (including Sokka, who is there no matter what she says or does), and Sokka that Katara’s process of grieving had to involve this catharsis.

Or. Maybe not. Because again--subtext. Their grief works in such different ways that I have to imagine this isn’t a new fight. It was probably brutal and vicious for a very long time. Maybe that’s part of what made Sokka try and go with the warriors. Maybe that’s part of why Katara gets mad so quickly in the first episode of the show. But eventually, unable to find an answer, they just...stop talking about it. Because the two of them don’t talk about it. Katara only talks about her mom with people who aren’t Sokka, and Sokka does exclusively to Toph and Zuko.

The only time I can think of Katara and Sokka talking about it together is the exchange at the top of this post, and it gets ugly fast, and it isn’t brought up again. It’s a fight that will never be resolved, because they fundamentally can’t react to one another in a way that can be universally understood.

“You didn’t love her the way I did!” Katara yells, loudly, because if Sokka loved her then why isn’t he raging? Why isn’t he getting his sword and coming to help her? Why doesn’t Sokka want to burn this firebender to the ground and make him see and hear and look at what he’s done to the world? To their family? He must not understand. He must not care as much or he’d be screaming with her.

“Katara,” Sokka says, much quieter, and adds nothing else. Not because there isn’t anything else to say, but because Sokka can’t talk about this kind of thing. Not doesn’t want to, but can’t, because it’s his job to protect people, protect Katara, and if he lets all those old hurts come boiling up he can’t do that, because that ends with losing focus and losing control and people getting hurt or going away. Why can’t she understand that?

And then they do what they always do. They don’t bring it up again.

[neonacity]

HYACINTHE | CHAPTER 3: JAEMIN X READER

SUMMARY:

Na Jaemin is far from being your typical 20 year old. Instead of slaving through college, he wastes away his hours cracking safes. Weekends that should be spent partying with friends consist of illegal races on good days and small scale bombings on bad ones. Na Jaemin is far from being average, unless you consider being a member of Seoul’s top organized crime family normal.

There is no such thing as a sense of normality and peace in his trainwreck of a life, so when he met a barista who was brave enough to call out his dangerous taste in coffee, he was like a moth to the flame. Everything about her is normal, which means she is forbidden to him, in all sense of the word. So why, then, does he always find himself at the front steps of her shop, breaking all his personal rules even if he wishes he could stay away?

A/N + Disclaimer: this is a side story to Black Daisies, my main mafia fic feat. 0T23. While the plot is based on the main story, this can also be read as a standalone fic. As usual, this is purely a work of fiction and in no way am I implying any member of NCT to behave the way I write them here. tw: crimes, heists, potential death, mentions of drugs and other illegal activities.

PAIRING: Jaemin x Reader

TW: illegal activities, gunshot wound, mentions of blood

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

FIC TRAILER

MASTERLIST

"Another bank was looted last night around 11PM, this time in the Geumchon district. This is the second bank that was broken into in the past week and the fourth that is rumored to be the doing of one of Seoul's organized criminal…."

I sighed and put down the pen that I have been using to scribble on a piece of napkin. A frown creased my forehead before I grabbed the offending piece of flimsy paper and crumpled it with my hand. Jeno, who was silently watching the news, looked up and shot me a curious look. He was leaning over the counter lazily, his cup of half finished hot cocoa beside him. 

"You okay?"

I winced. "Yeah... Actually. Actually, no. I am not okay," I said finally as I threw the used napkin to the closest thrash. I have been scribbling all the things I have to pay for the coming month there and couldn't bear to take another look at it. Jeno grabbed his drink and silently took a sip of it, obviously waiting for me to elaborate.

After my initial 'unplanned' meeting with Jaemin's friends, it has become more or less of their routine to drop by the cafe to hangout. Jaemin was initially against it at first, always scowling whenever he would see one of them already in the shop, though it seems like he has gotten used to it lately—or rather, he didn't have any other choice but to simply accept it. They would often sometimes come in groups—Jisung and Chenle are big fans of the pastries—but other times it's just one of them who would drop by to visit like Jeno now. My favorite is when all of them drops by to visit, not only because I've started getting closer to them too, but because customers would automatically flock into the shop whenever the "handsome gang" is there. Honestly, I couldn't blame them.

"I'm a little bit short on money this month. I was supposed to get my monthly allowance from my scholarship but something happened so it will be delayed. I have lab things to buy and well—everything sucks." 

Jeno nodded slowly, though I have a feeling he doesn't really understand my plight with money. Spending time with the seven of them has given me a better understanding of each boys' personalities. Jeno, for example, is definitely the calmer one of the bunch. While the others would cause chaos every now and then—Jaemin included, he would be on the side watching them usually with that adorable eye smile of his. He is different from Mark who would mostly jump in to join the fun before calming everyone once things get overboard, though both seem to share the same responsibility over the group. He also seems to be the closest to Jaemin, so by extension, I am also most comfortable around him. 

"How much money do you need?" 

I gave him a look as I reached out for a paper cup to make myself my own hot cocoa. 

"I heard the same question from your best friend before. Are you also going to offer to be my sugar daddy?" 

Jeno choked on his drink and hid his laughter behind his raised cup. 

"Do you want Jaemin to kill me?" 

That made me inappropriately blush.

"Sometimes I just want to bust out a bank like that group everyone is talking about." 

Jeno didn't say anything and continued watching me from the brim of his drink. 

"You think you can do it?" 

"Do what?" I asked as I poured hot cocoa on my cup. I said that off-handedly, I almost forgot my words the moment they left my lips. 

"Rob a bank. You know, do something illegal." 

I leaned back against the counter and craned my head a little sideways as I thought the question over. I didn't actually think of that before so I had to listen to my moral compass a little bit before answering. 

"It depends on the reason." 

Jeno looked surprised by my reply. He was probably expecting a goody two shoes answer from me, which I don’t blame him for, to be honest. Even I am mildly shocked by what I said. 

"The reason?" 

"Yes. I mean, if the only reason I would steal is because I don't have money to support my studies, then no, I wouldn't do it. I have other options. I can work extra jobs or I can just drop out from uni. But if I didn't really have any other choice, if I had to do it for someone really close to me, for example, then I would do it." 

"That is very…"

"Cliche, right? I know. But that's how it works, at least for me," I said with a laugh. "I do know what's good and bad, but I'm willing to jump the gun if I have to." 

I didn't know if it was my imagination, but I thought I heard Jeno murmur something under his breath as I turned to get back to work. 

"I bet Jaemin wouldn't like that." 

-----

PRESENT DAY, a little over one month after the happenings in the first chapter. 

They disappeared like bubbles. No, he disappeared in thin air, like smoke that was blown over by a strong gust of wind. After that night when Jaemin bust through my cafe door, hiding god knows what and asking for temporary shelter, he hasn't shown himself again, apparently leaving while I slipped into a light sleep. Even his friends stopped visiting the cafe which, for a few days, made me genuinely feel scared. Are they okay? What happened to him? Who was he running away from?

That worry slowly and gradually morphed into anger as the days lengthened. I know it was my way of coping with my emotions, but I couldn't help myself. I tried calling him, but the line was cut. It even came to the point that I had to call each of his friends, but it seems like the numbers they gave me were all temporary ones, too. I felt frustrated. I felt...abandoned. 

Was it really easy for him to just cut off all contact with me? 

Was it foolish of me to think that there is...something deeper here than just friendship?

It was the start of winter when the loud ringing of my phone woke me up from my nap. Eyes still heavy with sleep, my first instinct was to look at the clock by my table which registered 1:19AM. I frowned. I was in the middle of finishing a paper before I decided to take a nap but who could be calling me at such an ungodly hour? 

I blearily reached out for my phone and barely looked at the unregistered number before hitting the answer button. 

"Hello?" 

"Noona?"

I froze. Just like that, I felt the sleepiness slowly melt away from my consciousness. I know that voice. 

"Jisung?" 

"Noona, we need your help." 

I sat up on my seat after registering the panic in his voice. I heard another tone suddenly hiss at him from the background before a rustling sound overtook the speakers. It sounded like someone grabbed the phone from his grasp before he could even react.

"Jisung. What's happening—"

"Hello?" The new voice that spoke on the other line made my heart stop. I stared at my wall, wide-eyed.

"Jaemin." 

"I'm sorry. We didn't mean to—"

"Jaemin, we don’t really have any other choice but her, give me the phone," another one jumped in. It was Mark. 

"No. Hyung—"

"We're losing him," my lips parted in shock at what I heard. His voice sounded clearer now and I could very much pick up the iciness on it. Mark has always been so friendly and warm that it threw me off guard. 

"Give me the phone." 

The authority he held made me assume that Jaemin did as he was told. Next thing I know, he was calling out my name from the speaker.

"Mark, yes, I'm listening." 

"Hey. I'm really sorry about this, but we need your help. We really have no other choice, Haechan is in such a bad state—"

That made me stand up and push away from my desk.

"What the hell is going on? What do you mean about Haechan?"

"I'll explain later. We're on our way to you now."

"Wait, what? You don't know my address."

"We'll be there in seven minutes."

That was all he said before he cut off the call, leaving me standing shell-shocked in the middle of my room.

---

They banged on my door not even five minutes after. I had barely pulled on a cardigan when loud knocks rang through my small one bedroom unit causing me to quickly run and grab my knob open. 

I stood frozen at the sight of the seven boys crowding my doorway. Everyone was covered in some sort of soot, leaving them almost unrecognizable in their black outfits. Mark and Jeno were in the middle of the group, carrying a half-conscious Haechan between them. Jisung, Chenle, and Renjun brought the rear, their eyes moving wildly as if checking for eavesdroppers. Jaemin stood closest to me, his jaw tense and his eyes apologetic. My gaze snapped back to the center of the group when Mark called out my name. 

That's when I saw it for the first time. I didn't notice it at first because of its dark color, but Jeno was holding a towel against Haechan's stomach. Except it isn't black, it was a deep dark red.

Blood. 

"Oh my god." 

"Please help us." 

Maybe it was the shock, but I quickly stepped aside to let everyone in. I had barely slammed the door shut when I heard a crashing sound from my small dining area. Jeno pushed everything on top of my table to the ground as Mark and Jaemin gently guided Haechan on it. 

"What—what is going on—"

"He's been shot. Thrice. We're not sure but I think two of the bullets are still there," Renjun answered me as he grabbed the soaked towel from Mark's hand and replaced it with a new one. Jisung and Chenle worked on closing all the shutters of my windows while Jaemin tore off a lamp from my living room to move it close to Haechan. He closed all other lights other than the ones on the dining area and the small lamp.

It was then when my training finally kicked in. I ran towards the table to peer at the wound, my shaking hands gently moving the new towel that is quickly getting soaked by blood again. Haechan gave a soft grunt of pain before slipping to unconsciousness again. 

"I think there are still foreign objects there. It's what causing the severe bleeding."

"Can you take it out?"

My eyes shot to Jeno. The harsh lights from the lamp threw strong shadows on his stressed features. 

"I'm not a licensed doctor."

"We don't need a licensed doctor right now, we need someone who can patch the hole in his stomach. Please." 

I gritted my teeth. I have a ton of questions running through my head right now, but he's right. We need to act fast or else we will lose him. I rolled up my sleeves then and called out to whoever can act fast to my orders. 

"Somebody get the black box under my bed. I have all my surgery practice tools there. I need hot water and lots of towels. Everyone move. Now."

As soon as I said my orders, each of the boys were moving in a flurry to get everything that I asked for. I was adjusting the small lamp directly over the wound to peer at it better when I felt a gentle hand circle around my arm. I looked up to see Jaemin staring at me. 

"Thank you." 

I didn't say anything at first. I don't know if it was the shadows playing over his features, but he looked different from the Jaemin I knew in that brief moment.

"Don't thank me yet. Say that once we're sure he survives."

---

I was stirred from my sleep by the light snoring of someone to my right. Turning my head, I was greeted by the sight of Jisung who was currently sprawled on my sofa, his legs so long that they were dangling on one end. Chenle was on the floor below him, his face covered by one of the pillows he probably fished from one of my love seats cradling Renjun's curled up form. Mark and Jeno were both sitting upright, the former close to Haechan and the other by the door like a sentinel. They seemed to be in deep sleep too, they're heads hanging low. Jaemin was on the floor next to my seat, his breathing slow and relaxed. 

I blinked slowly as my gaze moved from boy to boy. It took me a painful two hours to do the impromptu surgery, first working on taking the bullets out before sewing everything back together. Haechan was lucky enough that the bullets didn't hit any vital organs or important vessels, and that the extreme bleeding was only caused by the wrong muscle being hit by the impact. He slipped from being conscious to unconscious throughout, and everyone had to work together to help me while I did my thing. 

I couldn’t really blame any of them from crashing the moment we made sure that Haechan’s safe—for now. 

After rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I tried to silently move from where I was curled on, careful not to stir anyone. I still have a ton of questions, but those can be taken care of later. I padded as carefully as I could towards the table where Haechan was still resting and peered at the IV that I had hooked on his arm to make sure everything was moving well. 

They even have spare blood bags with them for emergency transfusions. 

...As if this kind of thing normally happens.

"He's going to be okay, right?" 

I hastily turned to see Jaemin staring at me. His voice was low and was only loud enough for me to hear. 

I stared at him for a bit before looking away. 

"Yes. He'll survive."

"Thank you so much." 

I didn't answer. He also didn't say anything else, though I could still feel his gaze heavily on me. I braced myself before speaking again.

"We need to talk." 

I didn't wait for him to reply. I simply walked towards my room, leaving my door open for him to follow. I only turned back to look at him when I finally heard it close softly behind him.

"Who are you?" I asked, before he could even say anything else. I watched as his jaw tightened and released, his eyes full of indecisiveness. I didn't waver. Not this time. 

"You said…"

"That I will never ask questions? I did. But I can't do it anymore, Jaemin. You disappeared for a month without even saying goodbye then showed up on my door with your friends, one of them with a hole in their stomach. You have blood bags—freaking blood bags. What the hell is going on?" 

I tried my hardest to control my voice, not wanting any part of this conversation to be heard outside. My legs felt weak at the moment but I tried my best to continue standing so I could hold his gaze. 

The look in Jaemin's eyes, however, almost made me want to give up. I knew from the pain and hesitation there that I wouldn't like whatever it is he is about to say.

"I'm a criminal."

My stomach dropped. 

I was expecting it, but hearing it straight from him didn't soften the impact and the shock. 

"A…" 

"We steal. We do illegal things. There is absolutely no good way for me to describe this, but yes, I am a runaway who was stupid enough to bring you into this mess," Jaemin said through gritted teeth as he tore his eyes away from me. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to take a deep breath to steady himself.

"I was stupid and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone back and tried to befriend you after that order of coffee. I'm sorry I ran to you that night a month ago. I seriously thought I was going to die and I wanted you to be the one that I see for the last time. I'm sorry for today, or that I couldn't answer any of your questions back then. It was selfish of me to keep you in my life without giving you anything back," he stopped and forced himself to look at me again. My heart squeezed painfully in my chest when our gazes met. 

"I'm sorry." 

I didn't… couldn't say anything. One part of me had already expected this because it is the only reason that makes sense. Those vague answers, his detachment from normal society, the money, every clue seems to point to one direction, but that didn't spare me from my moral dilemma now. Because while I knew, I didn't exactly consider how it relates to me.

I was afraid to.

Because the truth is, I like Na Jaemin to the extent that I'm afraid of what I can do for him.

"Do you kill…" I asked in a whisper, my voice shaky. A frown passed his already stressed features before he answered.

"No. None of us do," he answered, and I knew then that he was telling the truth. Regardless of what he is or what he didn't tell me, I trust him to not lie to me.

"Am I—am I in danger?" I asked next. He firmly shook his head.

"No. I made sure of that. No one would dare—" he stopped, as if gauging what words he can use to not scare me even more. "You have always been under protection." 

That’s when it clicked. The cafe visits from his friends. The random strangers who seem to spring out from nowhere every time I was out and about and needed sudden help. 

My legs finally gave way and I collapsed on my bed behind me. My mind was trying its best to wrap around the situation, leaving my thoughts in a jumble. There are a million things I wanted to say, but I couldn’t get a single one out at the moment. 

Jaemin seemed to know what I was feeling at the very least because he simply stood there, silently watching me. I'm not sure how long the two of us stayed in that bubble of silence, but it was also him who brought me back to reality when I felt warmth cover my hands.

I looked up to see him kneeling in front of me, both his hands gently enveloping my clasped ones. The look in his eyes made my heart lurch, but I couldn't bring myself to say anything still. 

"I'm sorry if I was selfish… I promise, after this, you won't have to worry about anything else."

No. 

"When I met you, I saw something that's so different from the life that I have. Believe me, I tried my best to leave you alone, but I wanted more of it—more of —you, so I kept coming back." 

Are you going to leave me again?

"But you'll be safe now. I promise. You can go back to how it used to be before I… almost ruined it." 

Please don't leave me. 

Jaemin gave my hands one last squeeze and I felt him move to straighten himself. Before he let them go, however, another gentle warmth pressed against my forehead as he grazed it with his lips. 

"Thank you."

My tears dropped the same time the doors closed behind him. 

---

Chapter 4

[morganaspendragonss]

holly's august extravaganza day 17: you and me (moving through this world as a two-man team)

for both my incredible birthday twin jenny (@laelipoo) and a little bit for myself! i hope you are having a wonderful, wonderful day and i wish you all the love in the world. i'm so glad we became friends and i cannot tell you how glad i am for our conversations 🥰🥰🥰

many, many, many thanks to jenny as well for helping me out with the plot!

ao3 | 3.1k | firefighter carlos, hurt/comfort, pining, developing relationship, major character injury (two of them 😌)

TK does not have a crush on the 126's latest hire.

Carlos Reyes: an Austin local, an incredible firefighter, and—objectively speaking—the most beautiful man TK has ever laid eyes on. Which is, in fact, the entire point; TK has eyes and, yes, he will use them to sneak a look or two when he’s suddenly sharing space with a man who looks like a Greek god.

That does not mean he has a crush, Paul.

(and, sure, maybe he does sometimes dream about how soft Carlos’s lips look and the soft blush he gets when he laughs and those little flecks of gold in his eyes, but he’s only human)

(how TK knows about the gold in Carlos’s eyes is none of anybody’s business)

The thing about Carlos Reyes is that he isn’t only stupidly hot; he’s also just plain nice. TK can’t even make up a flimsy excuse to keep his distance. Carlos is, quite literally, perfect.

He shares recipes and book recommendations with Paul, he spars with Marjan, he discusses superheroes with Mateo, and Judd has had nothing but good things to say since before Carlos even joined them. Apparently they’d worked together a lot before the explosion, when Carlos was with the 116, and he’s ‘one of the best damn firefighters’ Judd has ever seen.

He even makes time to hang with the paramedics, which...isn’t a new development, exactly. But it is recent, and TK is willing to bet they’d still be pretty divided if Tim hadn’t suddenly transferred back to Maryland and he hadn’t taken the leap to be a full paramedic.

Even after that… His friends were hardly going to abandon him after he switched, but Nancy had still only been semi-included at best. She’d called him out about it during their first week working together, but fixing it had been a slow process.

Until Carlos came along, that is. Excluding Judd, they all regularly hang out at his place now, and Nancy’s inclusion had never even been a question. Safe to say, Carlos has charmed everyone in the firehouse, including both captains, and the worst part is, he doesn’t seem to realise he’s doing it.

He’s perfect, from his freakishly toned body to his infuriatingly sweet personality to his incredible skills in the field, and TK does not have a crush, goddammit!

One morning about three weeks after Carlos’s arrival, TK is greeted in the firehouse by the sound of a long, beautiful laugh coming from the kitchen. Three weeks is an embarrassingly short amount of time to admit that he’s memorised everything about him, but he instantly recognises the noise as coming from Carlos, even if he can’t see him yet.

He saunters into the kitchen, where Carlos is standing with Paul, and leans up against the counter. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Carlos turns with a winning smile and holds out a steaming mug of coffee, clearly freshly made even though TK only got in two minutes ago.

He blinks. “How—” Then, taking in the slight pinkness to Carlos’s cheeks, “Are you seriously offering me your own coffee, Reyes?”

Carlos shrugs, forcing the mug into TK’s hands. “I only just made it so technically it belongs to anyone, and I can always make another,” he says. “Besides, you look like you could use it more than me.”

His grin has TK narrowing his eyes and stubbornly refusing to drink even though Carlos is right—he really, really needs it.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that was an insult.”

“Who says you do know better?”

TK splutters, momentarily left speechless in the face of Carlos’s smile and the twinkle in those goddamn eyes. He turns to Paul for help, but Paul...has disappeared. Huh. TK honestly hadn't noticed him go.

He shakes his head and looks back to Carlos, only to be stunned silent again by the way his smile has softened into something else, something more.

TK’s heart skips a beat or two and he swallows, staring down into Carlos’s coffee. “Whatever, Reyes,” he mutters.

It was too late for a witty comeback anyway.

Carlos’s laugh follows him out of the kitchen, and TK wonders when, exactly, he let himself fall this far.

*

“Earth to TK? Hello?”

TK is rudely snapped back to reality by one Nancy Gillian’s hand waving violently in his face. He scowls at her, to which she responds with an eye roll.

“Stop drooling over your man and come help me with inventory.”

“I’m not drooling,” TK argues, following her over to the rig. “And he’s not my man.”

“Right,” Nancy drawls, folding her arms over her chest as she leans against the ambulance. “So you’re just going to deny that weird energy around you two that makes the rest of us feel like we’re creeping on something?”

“Exactly.” TK nods emphatically, then frowns. “Wait, what?”

Nancy casts her eyes heavenward. “You know,” she says, “you’re a lot of things, Strand, but I hadn’t pegged you for oblivious.”

TK’s next words are reflexive, said without thought for the consequences—the story of his life, really.

“I’m not oblivious!”

The grin spreading over Nancy’s face rams home just how much he’s fucked up with those three words. TK drops his head in his hands and groans, unable and unwilling to look Nancy in the eye.

“Not a word,” he warns, which Nancy appears to respect, for now. TK is well aware that there will be words—several of them—later, whether he wants them or not.

The thing is, he really isn’t oblivious. He knows perfectly well what Nancy is talking about and he has often fantasised about all the things he’d do to Carlos given half a chance. TK likes Carlos, way more than just in the physical sense, and he’s pretty sure that Carlos likes him right back. It would be so easy to start something between them and, god, TK wants to. He just… He can’t.

One year—that’s what he promised himself back in New York. One year on his own to sort his head out and figure out how he fits back into the world after the overdose. Granted, his sobriety anniversary is only a couple of months away now, but he refuses to give up on his promise, especially when he’s so close.

Maybe in a couple months, if Carlos hasn’t gotten bored of something that’s clearly going nowhere.

But not now.

*

“He did not ask me out!”

“He totally did, dude, and you know it. You want to say yes, I can tell.”

“No, I don’t. I—”

“Children,” Tommy interrupts from the back of the ambulance. They’re heading to a callout, and Nancy has not let up the entire way about something TK is certain never actually happened. “Either of you want to enlighten me on what the argument is about this time?”

“TK’s too chicken to go out with Carlos,” Nancy jumps in, before TK can stop her.

“I am not!” he protests. “Plus, he wasn’t asking me out, he said we should go over to his place for dinner sometime, which Carlos does all the time. So there.”

“Strand, you are not this dense,” Nancy snarks, probably rolling her eyes. “His exact words were, ‘You should come over sometime’.”

“We were all there! It was obviously the plural you.”

“Oh my god—”

“Alright!” Tommy sighs wearily. “Nancy, can we keep from provoking TK until we’re back at the firehouse and he’s no longer driving?”

“Ha!” TK exclaims, but Tommy’s not done.

“TK, if I weren’t your captain, I’d be telling you that Nancy is right and you should pull your head out of your ass before it’s too late, understand?”

Now it’s Nancy’s turn to be triumphant as TK struggles to form a coherent response. Thankfully, he’s saved from further torment by them finally pulling up at the scene—a warehouse where one of the workers had become trapped after parts of the upper level walkway had broken and fallen. Apparently, the falling metal had caused some of the machinery to malfunction, turning the call from simple to beyond complicated in a matter of minutes.

“TK, grab your turnout gear and your bag; I’m sending you in with them,” Tommy informs him as soon as they’re out of the rig. “Normally, we’d just talk the firefighters through it over radio, but given your training it’ll be quicker and safer for you to deal with our patient.”

TK grins; he’s missed the adrenaline rush of running into emergencies more than he can say. “Got it, Cap.”

“Maybe try and look a little less happy about a serious injury, too.”

“Copy that.”

*

The noise when they enter the warehouse is deafening, an ugly screeching cutting right through TK’s skull.

“Shouldn’t they have shut the machines off?” he shouts, fighting to be heard.

“Apparently they can’t,” Judd calls back. “Something wrong with the control panel, I don’t know exactly what.”

TK groans—just what they need. The sound is lost in the din, but Carlos still looks over and gives him a sympathetic grin, shrugging in a ‘what can you do’ motion. TK can’t help but grin back, the mere sight of Carlos easing the annoyance he feels and the headache already beginning to build behind his eyes.

Their patient, when they reach him, is pinned under a large, heavy-looking sheet of metal. He’s bleeding from a gash on his temple and his skin is worryingly pale, to the extent that TK can tell even from a distance. He jogs to the patient’s side and kneels down, pressing his fingers against his neck.

“Cap, I have a pulse,” he reports into his radio after a few seconds. “But he’s unconscious with a head wound, and I think there are probably injuries I can’t see yet. Possible spinal damage, but I can’t tell until we’ve got this metal off him.”

“Copy that,” Captain Vega says. “Get ready to run a line; he’s gonna need it as soon as he’s free.”

TK nods and moves to secure a c-collar around his neck. “We need to cut this thing off of him,” he says, addressing the team. “Quickly, but carefully.”

Judd steps forward, brandishing the saw. He hands TK a couple of spare turnouts and kneels on the patient’s other side. “Couple of you need to cover him, and yourselves.”

TK doesn’t even have to ask before Carlos appears next to him, taking one of the turnouts from him. He smiles gratefully before arranging himself to provide maximum protection to all three of them as Judd starts working on the metal. The vibrations from the saw are unpleasant, and TK dreads to think what effect it’s having on the already unstable machinery, but it’s the only option they have to get their patient free.

Fortunately, everything seems to go off without a hitch, and soon the team are able to remove the metal. TK immediately gets to work, feeling for any damage. As he suspected, there’s a pretty large gash on the man’s leg which is bleeding badly, though thankfully it seems to have missed any arteries. He also seems to have a broken wrist, but he should heal.

TK quickly wraps his leg, then gets Carlos and Judd to help move him onto the spine board. It feels like, for once, the call has gone as smoothly as possible, and TK allows himself a breath of relief as they prep to get the guy outside to the ambulance.

Naturally, that’s when everything goes to hell.

The machine closest to them lets out a threatening groan and shudders before there’s a loud roar and it explodes. On instinct, TK folds himself over the patient as shrapnel rains down on them, and he sees Carlos doing the same in his periphery.

The downpour seems to last forever, but eventually it slows and comes to a stop. TK cautiously lifts his head, his heart pounding, and sags in relief as it seems that the worst is over.

They need to get out of here, now.

He stands, a brief stab of pain running through his back—probably because of his awkward position over the patient—and turns to Carlos, reaching to offer him a hand up.

Only to see Carlos’s face tight with agony, and then the cause—a jagged piece of shrapnel running right through his hand.

“Carlos,” TK breathes, horrified. Carlos looks up at him, his breathing carefully measured and his eyes wide, and TK drops back to his knees, reaching out for him. “It’s okay, I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

Carlos swallows and nods, his eyes squeezing tight. TK’s heart rate skyrockets, and he’s barely able to keep his cool as he signals to the others to get their first patient out of the warehouse.

“Cap, the team are bringing him out, but we have a problem.”

“Talk to me, Strand, what’s going on?”

“It—It’s Carlos.” TK breathes out shakily and takes a moment to steady himself before continuing, “It’s not serious, but some of the machinery broke apart and some shrapnel impaled his hand. I’ve got to stabilise the shard before we come out to you.”

“Alright, but hurry. I don’t want you guys in there for longer than necessary.”

“Copy.”

Stabilising the shrapnel with rolls of gauze and wrapping Carlos’s hand should be a matter of course—it’s an easy process that TK could probably do in his sleep. But this is Carlos, so his damn hands won’t stop shaking and he almost fumbles and drops his supplies.

He manages though, and soon he’s helping Carlos up, instructing him to hold his injured hand above his heart. Carlos sends him a wobbly smile, which ends up turning out to be more of a grimace, but it’s a comfort nonetheless. Things could have gone so much worse today; TK could have even lost him, and he would have never been able to—

But that’s not important. Carlos is okay, or he will be, and they still have plenty of time to figure out whatever this is between them.

Everything will be okay.

TK’s back and side twinge again as they make their way out, but he brushes it off, too focused on getting Carlos to the hospital as fast as possible. Tommy shakes her head as they make their way over, her eyebrows raised despite the concern clearly in her expression.

“Never a peaceful moment with you, Strand, is it?” she asks dryly, hissing as she inspects Carlos’s wound.

“In my defence, Cap,” he says, more at ease now that they’re safe, “it’s not me who’s injured this time.”

Tommy hums, then directs Carlos into the back of the rig, jumping in after him. “Get back here, TK. Nancy’s driving.”

She has a teasing look in her eyes that instantly makes TK suspicious, but he moves to comply, shrugging off his turnout coat as he does. The movement hurts, which is weird, but he thinks nothing of it.

At least, until Tommy’s eyes go wide and she stands from her seat, holding her hands out towards him. “TK, do not move,” she instructs, her eyes firmly fixed on his right side.

TK frowns, then follows her gaze down, and— Oh.

His grey undershirt is stained with blood, and it’s difficult to miss the large piece of metal sticking out of his side. He has no idea how he missed it, but now that he knows, the pain slams into him full force, causing him to stagger.

“Oh,” he gasps, eloquently.

Then, his legs buckle and the world goes black.

*

TK wakes up to a steady beeping sound, which only exacerbates his pounding headache. He groans, scrunching his face up, before slowly peeling his eyes open, almost slamming them shut again after getting an eyeful of obnoxiously bright fluorescents.

“You’re awake,” a voice says, sounding surprised, then the lights suddenly dim, the room lit by the gentle glow of a lamp. TK sighs in relief and shifts to look at his saviour.

It’s Carlos.

“You… You’re here,” TK states, confused. His gaze drifts down Carlos’s body and lands on the white bandages around his hand, the memories of the warehouse suddenly hitting him all at once. “Shit, you— How are you?”

Carlos shakes his head and comes to sit in the chair by TK’s bed. “I can’t believe you’re the one asking me that.”

“I’m a paramedic, it’s my job.”

“Not when you’re the one in the hospital bed,” Carlos counters, sighing. “If you must know, I’m fine. They gave me some pretty good drugs, so…” He shrugs, and TK can’t help but laugh, which proves to be a very bad idea.

His side lights up, an unnecessary reminder that TK is very much not on the good drugs, and he moans softly, slowly settling back in the bed. “I hate you,” he mumbles, eyes closed.

“You love me,” Carlos says, and TK’s heart seizes in his chest.

The silence after his words is deafening, so TK forces himself to crack his eyes open enough to look at him. Carlos is frozen in his chair, biting his lip hard, and he looks like he either wants to bolt or be swallowed by the earth.

TK thinks he should probably be feeling the same. They’ve been dancing around this issue for weeks now, and he’d thought he had it under control. That he could last that little bit longer until his one year was up; that he could ignore these feelings that have been steadily growing since he first laid eyes on Carlos.

It was a hopeless endeavour; he recognises that now. TK remembers the fear he felt when Carlos was injured back at the warehouse, the desperation for him to be better, and now with his own injury…

He could have lost this chance before he ever got it, and TK isn’t about to let it slip through his fingers now. He reaches out and takes Carlos’s good hand, startling him into meeting TK’s eyes.

“Yeah,” TK whispers, just loud enough for Carlos to hear him. “I think I do.”

The smile Carlos gives him lights up the room, and he doesn’t waste any time in leaning down to kiss TK. And it’s… It’s everything TK had hoped and imagined it would be and more. It’s soft and sweet and gentle and perfect, and he never wants it to end.

But end it does, though Carlos doesn’t go far. TK smiles at him, squeezing his hand with all the strength he can muster.

“That’s a yes, by the way,” he says.

Carlos frowns. “What?”

TK’s smile widens and he flicks his eyebrows at Carlos. “To dinner. Or were you not asking me out after all?”

Carlos huffs a laugh, and the look in his eyes when they lock back onto TK’s melts his heart and makes his entire chest ache. “Does Friday work for you?”

He nods, tugging Carlos down for another kiss. “It’s a date.”

[trippin-over-my-fandoms]

I’ve seen this done before but here are my modern!rdr2 social media headcanons for the Van der Linde gang.

some of these are LONG and then some are shorter. doesn’t mean I love any of them any less however. I just did my best with all of them. 

* I treat the gang as family especially for my modern au 

Dutch

frequently uses Facebook and has dozens of friends he doesn’t even know. like if he gets a friend request he’ll accept it. John tells him he might as well just make his page public and Arthur pleads with him to make a facebook PAGE so that his random friends will stop liking posts that Arthur tags Dutch in. 

Dutch has no idea how to make a facebook page. 

he also has a Twitter and a massive following at that. He’s VERIFIED. 

all of his twitter posts are vague though

are they a joke? are they political? is it what he’s eating for lunch that day? literally no one knows.

Hosea

also has facebook but doesn’t use it because why does he need to look at pictures of events he was at. he only uses it to see things he didn’t partake in

also has snapchat but just to keep up with the kids 

because life360 was too much to deal with for everyone

and snapchat is cool

also he can and will spam you with bitmojis 

Arthur

used to use facebook a lot but stopped because he was tired of his posts getting likes from people he didn’t know and friend requests from people Dutch was friends with. 

plEASE

he has a private facebook for a reason, he doesn’t want other people to know his business. 

he also has an instagram but anything he posts on facebook also goes on there. it’s not aesthetic or pretty or anything and he doesn’t even caption over half his pictures. 

he literally only uses social media so that his friends and family know he’s alive

has snapchat because of Hosea but barely knows how to use it 

doesn’t get why everyone wants to use snapchat when teXTING AND CALLING ARE RIGHT THERE

John

the question is what doesn’t he have.

john has been trying to make it big on social media since youtube came out.

his youtube used to have videos on it but he deleted them because they were cringy and arthur liked to send them to the group text. 

plays twitch games on the weekends and sometimes with Jack but he thinks most of the subscribers are there for his kid since most of his solo streams don’t do as well

has a twitter, doesn’t follow Dutch, literally envies that he’s verified. 

he’s tried everything but no matter what he does nothing pans out

uses tiktok to promote twitch streams

instagram feed is mostly selfies of him but 99.9% of the time he’s wearing sunglasses and the caption is some random quote 

also has facebook but only to appease Arthur and Dutch, he doesn’t even have a profile picture. Claims only boomers use it. 

an avid reddit user. if he’s got problems he’ll go to reddit. claims reddit saved his life. everyone’s tired of the story so they stopped asking. 

also uses snapchat more than he should and the only social platform he has more than 100 followers on. 

Charles

same as arthur and has both facebook and instagram and posts the same on both except his are pleasing to look at. 

they’re unintentionally aesthetic 

he uses a psd on all his pictures and won’t share what it is

has monthly life updates that start with some inspirational or deep quote and then text that pushes the instagram word limit

also has a deviantart , has shared psds there before , constantly tries to convince Arthur to get it. 

used to use tumblr but he forgot about it

Abigail

the definition of a facebook mom. 80% of her facebook posts are about Jack or parenting. 

Instagram is similar but also different, she’s actually a relatively successful influencer with over 1,000 followers. 

all of her friends and family (who have instagram) follow her

has snapchat solely for the cute bitmojis and to send John adorable snaps of Jack playing with all the fun filters. 

she also won’t take a selfie unless it’s with snapchat because she no longer trusts her own camera. 

also uses pinterest and has a collaborative board with all the ladies. 

but in general, on her own, she has too many boards. she uses pinterest for EVERYTHING 

Sadie

bold of you to assume she uses social media. 

she does just not a whole lot. 

checks it once in the morning and once at night. 

except pinterest because how dare Abigail get her into it. but even pinterest she only uses in downtime. 

has facebook and instagram but there’s maybe only five posts.

if anything she’ll post on her story

will only snap Abigail and Arthur otherwise she doesn’t use snapchat

all of the social apps are mostly offloaded on her phone anyways

if she needs to know anything she just checks the group text which she has on do not disturb because they text way too much. 

Molly

she’s verified on instagram 

it’s also the only social platform she’ll use, which frustrates Dutch because he wants to be friends with her on facebook

but she’s happy with just instagram 

she keeps it simple 

and the main theme to her posts are fun outfits in her ever expanding closet

the other posts are usually of plants that she’s managed to grow. she’s not the best at being a plant mom but she’s still a good one to the ones she’s managed to keep alive. 

the only thing she contributes to the pinterest board are her own pictures of her plants which are overly aesthetic. 

Karen

started out with a normal instagram account then made a spam account which she ended up using way more often.

all of her posts are extremely chaotic

and usually reposts from her snapchat

has a reddit just to troll John

reposted his cringy youtube videos to reddit and got hundreds of upvotes

if you wanna see the most raw and chaotic videos of Arthur and John then she’s the one to follow. 

also if you wanna see Abigail when she’s not all put together. 

is the reason there’s so many memes in the collaborative pinterest board

Mary-Beth

has a instagram but also has a second instagram for art and book reviews

or basically anything she’d post on her tumblr

which is her second most used social

also uses facebook but only because she is an admin for one of those multifandom blogs. 

also begs Arthur to get a deviantart. 

uses pinterest most but only second to Abigail

literally the queen of pinterest DIYs

Micah

has twitter

as far as anyone else knows that’s all he has

maybe he has snapchat?

maybe they saw him on snapmaps once? 

all he ever does with twitter though is retweet anything Dutch posts.

yet somehow he has so many followers. 

Lenny

anyone who has snapchat has streaks with Lenny

even Hosea who doesn’t understand why it’s a thing

he also posts a lot on facebook but it’s mostly travel or vacation photos everyone is just a tad jealous of. 

Lenny always seems to be busy but still has time for streaks with his friends. 

he’s also an up and coming youtube vlogger

Sean

also has reddit to troll john

but he also legitimately uses it too. 

he’s also really popular in the minecraft subreddit , don’t ask

also has twitch and also has way more subsribers than John

and a youtube which he’ll upload (overly edited) twitch streams to

everyone subscribes to him but they don’t tell John that.

also has a tiktok and is up to date on all the trends because of course he is

Kieran

got facebook when he was 10 and just never left.

literally doesn’t use any other social media

he’s not in the group text either so he has to facebook message Arthur to know what’s going on. 

but he shares a lot of memes and cute pictures of animals

he used to follow Dutch but unfriended him when he was the only thing he ever had on his activity feed. 

Susan

has facebook but claims she doesn’t have time to use it

Arthur knows this to not be true because she will like a lot of his posts. 

she’s also guilty of liking every single picture in one post or album. 

Arthur has also caught her looking at memes and using recipes she finds on there. 

also part of the pinterest board but never contributes. 

Trelawny

he has an account for everything

like

litereally

everything. 

even whatsapp and linked in and kik

even tinder

the only one anyone knows about are his facebook, twitter, and instagam

but there’s no posts on any of them except twitter

he’s also verified

but for unknown reasons

any posts on his facebook are ones he’s tagged in

he’s also in a lot of facebook groups

Strauss

runs a subreddit

a paid facebook admin of several pages

the only person who actually knows this is Dutch because Strauss has told him about it

he has no online presence whatsoever out side of those.

Javier

spotify king

has over 500,000 subscribers on youtube

uses instagram but as another platform for his music

edits his own album covers

top tier playlists too

Tilly

aesthetic queen

the most put together and pleasing to look at instagram feed next to Charles. 

uses pinterest a lot as inspiration and for making moodboards.

also uses tumblr to share moodboards

part of the sims global community facebook group

she keeps saying she’s going to start a youtube vlog but hasn’t yet

keeps trying to convince John to let her help him with his youtube.

she also uses twitch to play minecraft and sims

oh and she set up a minecraft server for everyone

Bill

facebook boomer

that’s it

I don’t know how else to put it

probably shares heavily republican posts

Swanson

didn’t use social media until tiktok.

he doesn’t do dances or anything but he does post weirdly obscure and chaotic videos that end up trending on more than one occasion

it’s usually drunk ramblings in his car that end up being hilarious

or videos of the others almost dying or ending up in the ER

Pearson

facebook boomer but make it cool.

also shares conservative posts but less offensive ones compared to Bill’s

likes almost every post any of his friends share

also comments on them too

Uncle

does he have social media? no one knows for sure. 

yet somehow he knows what’s going on

even if nobody can find any of his social accounts or have ever seen him using one before let alone doing anything on his phone other than playing cheesy mobile games.

[harryimaginedstories]

on your side

genre: au (while I don’t like the term ‘au-fic’ at all imagine the two characters are in college together and in their early twenties.) angst and some fluff as well.

about 5k words

it’s entirely different than anything I have ever published and I really love it. please let me know what you think and stay safe during these wild and often scary times. 

read more here: my stories

photo: taken from instagram, previously taken by somebody from the movie AWC, which also inspired me (kinda) to even write this.

They started arguing pretty much the second the car door fell shut behind them and even ten traffic lights, countless of turns and getting honked at twice, didn’t stop their heated exchange of words. Harry’s hands held on to the seat tightly, an attempt not to touch her thigh like he normally would, while hers curled around the steering wheel until the white of her knuckles showed. It wasn’t uncommon for them to fight. They had never been one of those couples who didn’t call each other out on their bullshit or who tried hide anger when there was reason to feel it. However, this was the first time that they weren’t on their way home, where their argument could be settled in private. Instead, Harry and Y/N, both infuriated with each other, were on their way to a party. With one generous rotation of the wheel, Y/N parked Harry’s black car in the last free niche on the street of the frat house. The vehicle gave an unpleasant sound and Harry closed his eyes, his nostrils flaring. Before he got the chance to complain, Y/N swung open the door, stepped out and threw it shut hard enough to know it would set him off. 

“Jesus fuck!” Harry shouted, opening the passenger door and stepping out, too. 

She waited long enough to press ‘lock’ on the keys once he was out, then she walked away. With quick strides he caught up with her, and had he not been as angry as could be he would have probably felt hurt at her for not waiting up like she would have any other day.  Walking next to her he turned to look at her profile, trying to catch her eyes, but she refused. 

“Would you mind not taking your crazy out on my fucking car?”

“Oh, so you do care about that then. Good to know,” she snapped back. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Y/N halted and so did he. They were standing on the pavement, one house away from where there could already be heard the dull sound of music blaring and a good meter of distance between them.  Any other night they would be standing there, too. Only not to deliver a few more blows before pretending to be alright while their friends were around. On any other night, Harry would have taken advantage of the warm weather, by letting his hands roam across Y/N’s bare arms. She would have given him a kiss or two and made him a laugh at least as much. He would have reminded her for the fifth time (at least) that she looked beautiful. There wouldn’t be any distance between them, let alone one entire meter.

“There is one thing I’ve been hearing clearly through all of the bullshit you’ve said today,” Y/N hissed, her lips barely moving and her hands curling into tight fists by her side, “which is that you don’t give a fuck about me.”

“Oh my god.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly, his head falling back before snapping forward quickly, “You’re being such a lunatic!”

Wind picked up some of her hair and pushed the loose strands into her eyes, breaking the angry stare she’d held with him and for a moment, Harry could have sworn she appeared to be younger. Then she brushed the hair off with shaky hands and back she was, angry and exhausted. 

“You’re a dick!” Y/N squealed, 

“Well, clearly we could go on,” he snapped and rolled his eyes, “but our fucking friends are waiting for us so do you think you can manage to avoid me for the next few hours so we can at least settle this at home?” 

Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, hiding her cleavage which he had tried not to stare ever since she’d put on the blue dress. That damn dress. Focusing on it now it only irked him further. She knew how much he loved it when she wore this particular piece of clothing. It had spent the night on the floor of his bedroom or over the back of a chair often enough. He was certain she’d put it on specifically to spite him. 

“Fine, let’s go. But since you’re unhappy with my parking,” Y/N stepped forward and reached up, pressing the hard metal of Harry’s car keys into his chest, “you get to be the designated driver tonight.” 

Her fist lingered on the fabric of his black T-shirt. Feeling her touch him momentarily paused his thoughts. All anger was forgotten, as if the wind had picked it up, too, and carried it far away. Harry whimpered and her lips parted, their eyes connecting without any trace of hurt in them. Then his hand found hers and she dropped the set of keys into his palm, snapping them both out of their brief moment of peace. 

“I don’t want to see you right now,” Y/N stuttered, blinking rapidly until her eyes turned darker again.

“Don’t come look for me later when you’re drunk and feeling sorry,” Harry replied, before he stepped around her and walked towards the frat building.

Y/N lost sight of him the second he stepped inside. Despite still feeling angry with him, she couldn’t stop herself from briefly wishing he wouldn’t have left her alone. She didn’t like being left alone at a party. Neither did he, for the matter, but she refused to feel guilty for sending him away. Y/N drew a shaky breath and stepped inside, instantly greeted by the smell of alcohol, smoke and pot. A big banner had been hung from one side of the hall to the other, wishing everybody a cheerful start to the new semester. Underneath mingled numerous students, all of which held drinks in their hands. Already Y/N recognized a few of them from some of her classes, she didn’t feel like talking to them however. To her luck she spotted a few friends of her in the first room she entered and was quickly greeted with hugs and kisses to her cheek. 

Dena, a girl Y/N had grown close with through sharing an equal distain for their econ teacher, pressed a drink into her hand and smiled. “You look like you need at least two of these.”

Y/N smiled sadly. “That obvious, huh?”

“Well, you didn’t cheer in delight upon seeing us like you should have so,” said Clara, another friend Y/N had made whilst talking badly about her teacher.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry.” 

Dena nudged her. “Also, your boyfriend stormed past us earlier so we expected something was up.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Clara asked.

Y/N shook her head and took a long sip from her drink. It tasted of a mixture of beer and vodka, which on any other day she would have refused to drink. “I really don’t.”

“Great. Then let’s just cheer to us.”

The two girls raised their own cups and waited expectantly for Y/N to do the same. Dena grinned at her and cleared her throat. 

“To us, the coming semester, which we will fucking ace. And-” she paused, looking at Y/N, “to knowing when to kick your boyfriend’s ass. Cheers!”

“Cheers.”

Harry stood by the unlit fire pit in the lounge area, where the chairs had been pushed aside to create a dance floor. A scowl was deeply etched onto his face and he had yet to smile genuinely. He blamed the alcohol he wasn’t allowed to consume for how poorly he was feeling, but he knew even if he had drowned his veins in liquor, it wouldn’t be until he’d feel her touch him that he would be in a better mood. He stood back watching with a few of his mates, who were all except one, very drunk, as some freshmen clumsily turned the dinner table into a bear pong station. Matt, the only sober one left, had tried to get him to talk about why his mood was so sour three times already, receiving no answer each time. Harry rolled his eyes upon feeling him nudge his shoulder again.

“Where’s your girl?”

Harry shrugged. “Don’t know.”

He’d been cursing her short height since turning around and looking for her in the crowded hallway thirty minutes ago. She’d slipped past him without him noticing, and while he was too proud to go look for her properly, it annoyed him that he wasn’t able to casually spot her whenever he scanned one of the many rooms that had been turned into a club. He especially didn’t like it since he knew that she was drinking. Blindly he felt for his phone in his pocket, ensuring for the tenth time that its volume was turned up. Should she call him, he wanted to be sure that he wouldn’t miss it.

“Didn’t she come with you?” Matt pressed on, either oblivious to Harry’s annoyance or simply indifferent to it.

“Doesn’t mean she can’t wander off on her own, does it?” Harry replied, his voice rough. 

He’d never really liked Matt. Actually, he’d liked him a lot once. They’d even considered becoming roommates in their second year. He’d liked him, up until he’d gotten together with Y/N and noticed the gleam in Matt’s eyes the first time he’d introduced her to him. Their friendship dissolved fast after.

“I’m sure she can. She’s always been good at enjoying parties, hasn’t she?”

Harry didn’t reply. Once more his eyes scanned the room frantically, detecting every single face in hopes of recognizing the eyes to the one he loved.

“Dude!” Eric, a tall and broad looking bloke who’d just become team captain to the football team, stumbled into Harry’s side, knocking him back. 

“Sorry! Shit,” Eric laughed, doubling over, revealing that he was clearly drunker than he should have been, “I’m sorry, mate. Wow, I need to lay off a little.”

“No kidding,” Harry replied, but smiled when Eric slung a heavy arm around his shoulders. The unmistakable smell of alcohol fanned over his face as Eric talked, and his nose scrunched up. 

“You’ve been wearing a look as depressing as Matt’s sex life-”

“Hey, fuck you, Eric!” Matt snapped, unamused.

“-and I intend to fix that. C’mon.”

Harry didn’t fight it as the taller guy dragged him away, out of the lounge and into another room further down the hall. He certainly didn’t mind getting away form Matt. Regardless of them having been friends once, Matt was the last person he wanted to be around when he was having a rough time with Y/N. The smoke was thicker in this room and the music a little quieter. There were less people dancing and more sitting around on the couches and chairs. A few stood by the wall in small groups and some, the ones Eric was walking towards, were standing opposite a dart board. They cheered upon seeing the two guys approach, making more noise than anybody else in the room.

“You’re on my team and you’re gonna help me win, yeah? M’taking advantage of you being sober as a stone. Your aim is probably better than any of theirs.”

Harry laughed and nodded, accepting to be involved. “I’ll try my best.”

The first dart arrow was thrust into his hand by a guy named Kyle who appeared to be on the same team. Half an hour later and Eric was grinning from ear to ear, writing their leading score numbers onto a makeshift writing board that was really just the coffee table. Something the guys living in this house would be happy to find in the morning.  Y/N watched him. Despite being intoxicated, or perhaps because of how intoxicated she was, she noticed every muscle of his back move each time he raised his arm. Her heart fluttered whenever he laughed and she felt a heat grow at the pit of her stomach whenever he leaned his head to the side, revealing the back of his neck to her. And above his neck was his ear, which hid a spot right under his hairline where he liked to be kissed. Y/N’s lips parted at the thought and her toes curled.  He hadn’t noticed her when entering the room. She didn’t blame him though, since she’d successfully hid herself behind Dena and Eric’s big body also worked wonderfully as a shield. Despite anything she’d said before the party, she was immensely relieved to see him. The vodka-beer mixture which she’d learned had been invented by Clara, was disgusting but also got her drunk faster than she had expected. Or intended. Another round of cheers erupted as Harry scored another point for his team. 

“Not fair. You won’t give them as much as a chance to win.” 

A chill rushed down Harry’s back at the sound of the honey sweet female voice behind him, and Y/N, too, froze in place. Slender fingers touched Harry’s arm, caressing the skin despite being less than welcome to. Upon turning around he was met with Silja, who’s face wore a smile equally sweet as her sly voice. Though standing by the opposite wall, Y/N swore she could hear Silja as if she were standing next to her. She would always be able to detect her voice, especially if the words she spoke were directed to Harry. 

Dena followed her friend’s gaze and raised her brows. “Haven’t seen her in a while. I thought she dropped out.”

“Would have been too nice,” Y/N growled. 

She’d never actually talked to Silja herself and she surely didn’t intend to. Before getting together with him, Y/N had been mostly oblivious to who was genuinely interested in him and who she imagining to be. Only with Silja there had never been any doubt. Even before Harry had become hers, she’d felt a bitter taste collect in the middle of her tongue whenever the pretty brunette girl tried to talk to him. Once her claim on him had become justified, she disliked Silja and her upfront behaviour all the more.

“Hey, you know you don’t have to worry about her, right?” Dena said quietly, reading Y/N’s expression, “Harry has rejected her what, three times already? Even before he was with you. He’s not interested in her.”

“I know. I’m not worried about that,” Y/N said quickly, stepping around Dena to get a better look at her boyfriend and the girl that had yet to remove her hand from his arm, “I trust him.”

“Doesn’t make her less of a bitch,” Clara grumbled, also staring at them intently. 

The three girls watched Harry turn to look at Silja. He gave her a tight lip smile before he stepped away to make room for the next player, conveniently shrugging off her hand in process. To their dismay, Silja followed him.

“I haven’t seen you this summer,” she complained in an uncomfortably high voice, that was laced with feigned displeasure, “Where were you hiding?” 

Harry sighed, wishing Y/N would find him already, and rested his back against the wall. The last thing he needed for this party to become worse were the advances of the woman standing before him. “I wasn’t.”

Their summer had been great. They spent it looking for a flat to move into together. One weekend they’d taken the train out to the ocean and spent two days in a pretty bed and breakfast, where nothing distracted them from each other and everything, even their sheets, held the faint smell of sea salt. He wasn’t about to tell any of that to Silja though. 

The girl pouted, smudging her lilac lipstick at the corners. “Didn’t you miss me at all? Not even a little bit?” 

“No.”

She smiled. Her neck moved to the side as her eyes mustering him. “You and your attitude. I really missed that.”

Harry let his head fall back and for a moment Y/N forgot to eye the girl hitting on her boyfriend and instead stared at his throat. She longed to kiss him there, too. The darkened expression taking over his relaxed face quickly brought her attention back. Thinking about kissing him had made her miss the words Silja had said to upset him. 

“You’re wasting your time missing me.”

At last, Silja’s smile dropped. “You’re still with her, then?”

“Yep,” he replied shortly. 

 “Fine,” Silja pushed the long brown locks off her shoulder and crossed her arms, “maybe if she fucked you right you wouldn’t be such an asshole all the time.” 

“Fuck off, Silja,” Harry snapped, pushing himself off the wall to instantly tower over her.

“Harry! Your turn again, mate.”

Without giving her as much as a second look, Harry turned away and followed Eric’s call. Dena’s hand rested on Y/N’s shoulder, squeezing her gently whilst smiling at her. Y/N exhaled loudly and relaxed. She didn’t doubt Harry’s capability of getting rid of Silja. She’d also truly meant it when she’d said that she trusted him. But after their argument she wasn’t so sure that he didn’t want to receive some affection tonight, be it from anybody. While she would have hated it, simply entertaining Silja’s flirting wouldn’t have been cheating. A warm feeling overtook any worry left in her body upon watching him turn Silja away. He didn’t bother look at her again but walked back to his friends to resume the game, treating her like she wasn’t even there. He didn’t even give Silja the satisfaction of remaining angered by her words. Giving up her attempts, Silja walked away and left the room quickly, her cheeks slightly rosy in embarrassment. 

“Remind me to kiss him later for that,” Y/N said, her voice holding more love for him than she would usually let on whilst angry. 

Clara laughed. “So you’re not mad at him anymore.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me that I was or I might still be.”

“What were you two fighting about anyway?” Dena asked. 

Y/N took another long sip from her drink, before remembering that she’d wanted to not drink any more for the night. Oh well. 

“He didn’t come home last night. Without notifying me. He fell asleep at stupid Rick’s place and neither of them bothered shooting me a text or ringing me about it. I spent all night worried sick.”

Y/N’s expression hardened at the thought of waiting up for him. She’d paced around the living room of their new flat before settling on the couch, vowing to stay awake until he returned. She’d had half a mind not to call his mother or sister, not quite worried enough to ask them. 

“I didn’t see him until an hour before coming here ‘cause I had to work today. So we didn’t have time to properly fight about it.”

“Didn’t he say he was sorry?”

“Sure he did, as well as stating that I was overreacting and not his mother.”

“Ugh, men,” Dena grumbled, then she changed the subject, “Let’s get refills in the kitchen!”

Harry got bored of the game after the fifth round, but stayed to play until the team he’d joined won by a margin. Then he politely excused himself from playing another round. Though she’d told him she didn’t want to see him, Harry really wanted to see Y/N and he figured over an hour of distance sufficed for her to calm down. Maybe she would even allow herself to be happy about him finding her. He strolled around the room, then went looking in the hall and finally searched the lounge. If only she were a little taller, he thought once more. All of sudden he heard a loud shout. It wasn’t one of the usual party hollers, it was one that held no joy at all. With swift strides Harry crossed the room, turned left in the hallway and entered the kitchen. This time he didn’t have to search to see her. Y/N was sitting on the counter, her legs dangling down and her hands curling around the stone surface. Across from her was the kitchen table on which all of the different liquor bottles had been placed. It was also where the single shout turned into several. A guy Harry hadn’t ever seen around campus before stood next to a broken bottle of vodka. His hand curled into a fist and his face was red. Opposite him stood Dena, a girl Harry barely knew beyond her being a friend of Y/N. Next to Dena was a guy named Dylan, his face painted with guilt and worry. 

“You fucking broke my shit!” the stranger shouted. 

Y/N flinched. It wasn’t Dena who’d pissed off the wrong guy, but Dylan who had tried to make a drink for them. She didn’t feel any less involved if the guy were to be shouting at her. The second the bottle had broken and the tall stranger exclaimed that it’d been his, Y/N had felt fear curse through her. She hated it. She hated how a man shouting was so scary that she froze in place.  Just like she always did when afraid, her eyes began to search for Harry. Heavy like a wave and equally overwhelming was the relief when she saw him lingering in the doorway.  Their eyes met. Y/N visibly relaxed. She could read the question in the look he was giving her and she eagerly nodded. There were so few people scattered around the small place, Harry had no trouble reaching the counter.  Once in arms reach she held out her right hand, whimpering when his fingers slotted through hers and holding on tight. Any anger towards each other was forgotten the moment their skin touched. Y/N gave a determined pull until he stood next to where she was sitting, her legs touching his waist. Harry didn’t say anything, but he allowed her to let go of his hand to instead hold on to his shoulder. His own settled heavily on her thigh, relishing the feeling of her bare skin. He didn’t complain when her fingers curled tightly around the fabric of his shirt, nor did she mind how intimate it felt to have his hand on her naked thigh. His eyes quickly scanned her face, waiting for her nod, confirming that she was alright. Y/N smiled gently, relief mirroring in her eyes. Harry returned her smile. His heart clenching when he noticed the faint veil of alcohol before her eyes. Ever so slightly, their heads leaned towards each other, then his nose softly touched her forehead.

“He didn’t do it on purpose,” Dena said defensively, “and these bottles are for everybody to use.”

Harry shifted closer to Y/N but removed his nose form her hairline. Unwillingly he turned his attention back to where the argument grew. The stranger’s head, figuratively doubling in size by the minute, was red and looming over Dena like a balloon hovering in the sky. He had to admit it was impressive that Dena, equally short as Y/N, refused to back off.

“I wasn’t asking you! You and your friend better figure out how to replace my drink and you better do it fast!”

“Mate, lay off a bit, will ya? They didn’t do anything on purpose,” Harry interrupted, his voice calm and steady, “Why don’t you just grab one of the ten other bottles and leave ‘em alone?” 

The stranger, slightly shorter than Harry, turned to look at them. Y/N tightened her hold on his shoulder. She was mentally preparing herself to jump off the counter and at the stranger’s throat instead, should he as much as try to pick a fight with Harry. Noticing her shift beside him, Harry’s hold on her intensified.

“Leave them alone?” the tall guy snapped, “that was twenty fucking quid he broke!” 

“Bit embarrassing that you’re whining about twenty quid,” Harry said, wearing a smug grin, “and picking a fight like some kind of neanderthals who found out somebody’s pissed into his cave.” 

Dena giggled and so did Y/N, along with some bystanders who’d gathered to watch. The bloke narrowed his eyes, first at Harry, then at the girl sitting beside him. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but Y/N interrupted him. “Quit looking at me and spare me any sexist bullshit you’re about to say.” 

The guy rolled his eyes, then smiled. “You’re pretty for a bitch.”

Y/N’s hand yanked Harry back by his shoulder equally fast as he’d pushed off the counter to lunge forward and at the guy. The movement caused him to knock against the counter uncomfortably. She didn’t let go and didn’t move, despite Harry’s enraged breathing getting louder.  

“Fuck you!” Harry shouted, eyes wide. 

Anger oozed out of his pores and heat settled in the small kitchen. Calm and collected only a moment ago, he was all the more scarier now that he was enraged. Scary enough to make the stranger take back a step. Y/N loosened her hold on Harry’s shoulder, sliding her hand down to press against his back instead. She rubbed his spine gently, hoping to ease him by letting him know she was okay. 

"You need to leave,” Y/N stated, her voice calm.

“Definitely,” Dena agreed, her eyes trained on her friend before finding Harry.

He didn’t return her gaze, his eyes remained on the tall blonde. They stayed put until the guy lowered his empty cup to the table, the movement slow and deliberate. He clearly didn’t want it to look like he was leaving because he was told to, so he took his time. But finally he turned away, before at last leaving the kitchen and hopefully the party all together. 

Harry shuddered upon feeling Y/N’s nose against the shell of his ear. “I’m fine, Harry.”

“What a wanker.”

“A fucking wanker,” Y/N replied, her smile practically audible in her voice. 

Harry turned around to face her, all of his attention returning to where it belonged: her. His eyes looked into hers intently, reading every answer to all of his unspoken questions.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes. Are you?”

He nodded. “Did he try anything before I came?”

“I noticed him about zero-point-five seconds before you arrived, Harry. I’m fine, I promise.”

Her hands gently took hold of his face. The fingers of her left hand traced along his jawline as tenderly as one would the rim of a glass in hopes of eliciting a sound. That’s how Harry sometimes felt when she touched him. Like she was being as tender as she could possibly fathom to be. 

“Does that mean you’re gonna go back to being mad at me?” As he spoke, Harry moved closer. His hands rested on each side of her hips, allowing his body to get closer to hers as he leaned forward.

Y/N laughed and shook her head, their faces so close they almost touched. She enjoyed the warmth of his breath fanning against her throat. 

“Are you? You were at least as pissed off as I was.”

He shrugged, then playfully nudged her nose with his. “No.”

“Then I think I’ll let it go, too,” she answered, faking to be coy, “For now, you still owe me an apology later.”

Harry laughed. “That’s fair. Promise to mean it this time, too.” 

Her eyes narrowed. She took hold of his chin, holding him still so she could kiss him without giving him the chance to deepen it. The feeling of his mouth slotting with hers, be it as briefly as it was, ignited her like nothing else could. Any remaining worry was pulled from the corners in her body where it had hidden, and was thrown out not to return. Harry took over. All of the space inside her that could belong to an emotion, now belonged to him.

“I knew you didn’t mean it earlier,” she breathed accusingly against his lips. 

“I meant it a little,” he said, curling his hand around her wrist to pull away the hold she’d taken and he kissed her a second time before she could complain. 

Despite their desperation their teeth didn’t clash together, nor did their noses unintentionally bump. They’d kissed too many times not to blindly meet each other without missing. His tongue glided along her bottom lip, hers pushed his aside so it could trespass into his mouth. Frantic hands held on to her hips and her thigh, eager fingers remembered to be gentle as they settled on the back of his neck. Harry moaned and Y/N pulled away.

“Thank you,” she whispered, just enough space between them so she could speak. 

Harry’s kisses trailed down from the corner of her mouth to her cheek and her jaw, his lips warm, wet and determined. He allowed one kiss to last a little longer, followed by a small lick to her earlobe.

As satisfied as could be as long as they weren’t alone, he raised his head to look at her again. “What for?”

“Being on my side even when we’re fighting.” 

The smile gracing her features was so genuine he could have melted, just like her words were spoken with more love behind them than he could detect. He smiled and willingly moved his head to the side, so she could kiss below his ear. The heat in his belly grew and he let her know by squeezing her hips.

“Ditto.”

[httpnxtt]

Wallpaper - Reid x Reader

A/N: Hello Lovelies! I attempted some pure fluff this time to show my love to my bby, @spencer-reid-in-a-pool​ ! I wanted to shower her with love and this was the only way I could think how, so I hope you enjoy! Shoutout to @imagining-in-the-margins​ for the adorable prompt! You’re amazing and ily! 

Also shout out to my amazing beta buddies, @sunlight-moonrise​ , @clean-bands-dirty-stories​ , and @definitelynotkatesblog​ !

Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: FLUFFY FLUFF

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 4.2k

Masterlist

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In the world of darkness that surrounds our lives, it’s important to find the light in the world. Luckily for me, our paperwork days meant being sat across from my best friend, Spencer Reid. The man whose smile lit the entire room, who could drop everything in an instant for someone he loves; who makes my days brighter at the simplest, “Hi.” The curly-haired genius spends his days surrounded by the worst humans in existence, using his brain to help the world before helping himself. With his IQ of 187, his mind works a million miles a minute, but sometimes he still needs help. That’s where my job comes in. 

I joined the BAU a year ago, and was instantly drawn to the resident genius. He was timid when I first met him, as if scared the world would break him with everything it decided to throw at the sweet man. Slowly, I captured the heart of our resident genius, who was now my best friend. Over the course of the years, he became my favorite person. On cases, I would make sure he took time to drink water and rest when possible, bringing him snacks when his brain was wrapped in his geological profile. I made it my mission to teach the genius to love himself as much as he loves others. 

Paperwork days were when I really got to see his bright smile and soft laughter. It became a running joke between us. Whenever Spencer would get up to grab us coffee from the kitchen, I would steal his phone to change the wallpaper to something silly. Every time he would check his phone for updates, he would see a new silly picture and grace me with a shining smile and chuckle. Even for these split moments in time, I knew I had distracted him from the morbid things littering our desks. His smile lit up the bullpen, leaving butterflies fluttering around in my stomach, my own smile gracing my lips. He would always shake his head before changing it back, already knowing he would find a new wallpaper later that day. Luckily for me, today was a long, dragging paperday which means I had plenty of time to meet my Spencer-Smile quota for the day. 

First thing this morning, I got my hands on his cell. Pre-coffee brain, the only thing I could think of was the most ridiculous picture of our own Derek Morgan. The image was one Penelope graced me with, a photo he attached when shamelessly flirting with her during our downtime. As quickly as I could, I set the lockscreen and gently placed the device back on his desk, almost in the right spot although I’m sure Spencer would notice it had been moved. I sit back in my chair, slowly starting to spin as I see Spencer make his way back to our desks, two mugs in hand as his glasses begin to slide down the bridge of his nose. I shoot up to wrap my hands around the steaming mug, the warmth like a warm hug. I pull the mug up to my face, smelling the delicious scent of coffee created perfectly to my specifications. Sometimes boy genius’ memory has its perks. Settling back at my desk, I sort through the mound of files for the day in anticipation. 

Looking up from my own cases, I look across to Spencer who has his face buried in a file, his finger trailing down the pages taking my mind into places it shouldn’t go. After an hour he still hasn’t seen his wallpaper, plastering a frown on my face. I pull out my own device, immediately texting a gif of Stitch saying hi to “Pretty Boy”, hearing his phone ding almost immediately. Looking across to Spencer, he almost spits out his coffee seeing the ever flirtatious Derek Morgan gracing his screen. The reaction sent me into a whirlwind of laughter, my head thrown back, almost cackling at the poor man. 

As I calm down, wiping the tears from under my eyes, I see Spencer looking at me with his signature smile, making my heart flutter. 

“That was a good one, Y/N. You really got me this time.” He chuckles, looking at this screen again before looking back at me. “Might have been your best one yet,” he says as he works to change it back. The poor technophobe had to learn because of me how to change his wallpaper since he realized I wouldn’t stop anytime soon. He’s still a tad slow but watching him try to work through it makes my heart happy as I return to my own files. 

As I try to work through my own files, an IM from the tech queen herself pings my computer. 

P.Garcia: “Changed Boy Wonder’s wallpaper again? When are you going to tell him?! Your puppy eyes give you away, darling. You can’t lie to me.”

Y/N: “Darling Penelope, I would never lie to you. Alas, you continue shipping something that will never sail..” I reply to her, hoping she gets the gist.

Although Spencer lives in my thoughts rent free, that’s where he’ll stay. As much as I wanted him in my arms instead, it simply wasn’t going to happen. I close my messages before trying to actually get some work done. I’d rather not stay late yet again due to my tendency to be a bit scatterbrained. 

***

Coffee break number two rolls around and I already have the perfect picture planned. Reid scurries into the kitchen desperate for more coffee and I rush to his desk. Pulling out his phone, I send an image to it before saving it. It is one of my all time favorites. A movie night Spencer and I shared. I convinced him to let me pamper him under the reasoning of some well deserved self-care. Surprisingly, the man went along with my antics, although fighting me on this gem. The image is a sneaky one that Reid doesn’t even know exists. During our self-care night, I tried to take pictures of him looking as cute as ever, but he kept blocking me. Luckily, Spencer fell asleep before his mask came off leaving the perfect opportunity to snap the evidence. There is Spencer in all his glory, curled up on my couch in the light blue robe I saved for him that was covered in little clouds, a purple face-mask clinging to his cheeks, trying to avoid his eyebrows.To top it all off, he wore a bright pink headband to push his hair back decorated with bunny ears. The picture shows the soft side of our boy, a side I wished he would show more. 

Throwing his phone back on his pile of files, I sit back at my desk, nonchalantly sipping my now cold coffee. Seeing Reid shuffle back to his desk, I wait for him to pick up his phone with my mug resting against my mouth. Spencer readjusts his frames as he settles in his chair, looking me in the eyes before looking at his phone. Instead of his normal chuckle, a pout graces his plush lips. Although his lips are normally a favorite of mine to stare at, the pout twists my gut. 

“I thought you didn’t get any pictures of me that night,” he mumbles, giving me puppy eyes that could give mine a run for their money. 

Despite my pride in the picture, his tone makes me feel just a little guilty. “I’m sorry, Spence, I thought you were so cute when you were napping. I didn’t want to make you upset.” I pout, the butterflies disintegrating as the moments pass. Rummaging through my drawer, I find my sack of trail mix and toss it to the dark-eyed man. “Here, take my trail mix, I know it’s your favorite,” I offer, a small smile painted on my face. Spencer’s eyes land on me, lips turning up once more into the smile that never fails to take my breath away. 

“I appreciate it, but I can’t take it. I know it’s basically the only thing you eat on your lunch break.” His call out causes heat to rise into my face. 

I stay insistent though. “I want you to have it. I don’t like making you sad.” I shoot back, giving him my infamous puppy eyes. Even Aaron Hotchner falls for them, there is no way the doctor could resist. 

“Okay,” he starts, automatically having me rush across to his desk to give him the snack. “On one condition,” He finishes, making my face fall once more. Spencer never lets people just give him a present, he always does more for others. “Since you’re giving me your snack, you come with me to get a proper lunch since you need food and I could use the hour away from these files.” He smiles at me, already munching on the trail mix so I have no choice but to agree. 

“Deal. BUT, I want pancakes if we’re going,” I reason with him, plopping back in my chair. 

“IHOP it is.” He chuckles, the sound resonating in my brain as we both hurry through our respective files. 

***

At coffee break number three, Reid stands from his desk, scrunching his nose to fix his glasses as he reaches across to snatch my mug from my desk. Hiding my face in the file until he walks away, I turn to see him shaking his head, knowing I’m about to change his wallpaper yet again. 

Once I see him turn the corner, I stretch over to grab his phone he conveniently left square in the middle of his desk, giving the man yet another excuse to talk to her. Flipping through the camera roll, I hear a chuckle from the desk a few feet away. Looking over, I find the one and only, Derek Morgan shaking his head at me. 

“What’s so funny, Thunder? Sad the attention isn’t on you anymore?” I tease him while trying to find the perfect picture. 

“I just find the pining that goes on between two supposedly brilliant people entertaining.” He chuckles as my jaw drops, turning to him. “Come on, Princess. You don’t think we don’t all know you and Pretty Boy fancy each other, do you? It’s obvious to everyone except the boy himself.”

I shake my head. “He’d never see me that way, Morgan. This is just for shits and giggles.” I breathe out, settling on an image of our feet in front of the TV screen, mismatched socks adorning our feet while “Beauty and the Beast” plays in the background. He sports a neon pink sock along with a navy blue sock covered in planets, while my feet claimed one sock covered in different moon phases, the other covered in little alien creatures. Placing his phone on his desk, I settle back at my own, shooting Morgan a closing, “You’re just seeing things, Morgan.” before burying myself back in the file at hand. 

Moments later, my mug is sat directly in front of me before Reid sits at his own desk. Automatically picking up his phone to check, my tummy flutters at the smile he releases while staring at the screen for a moment before looking at me. Making eye contact, I notice a slight pink tint to his cheeks, before he looks back at the image.

“This might be my favorite one yet,” he murmurs, adjusting his glasses without looking away from the screen. I feel my cheeks heat up, getting warmer by the second, but I cannot tear my eyes from the man who holds my heart without even knowing it. 

***

“Hey Y/N. Ready for lunch?” Spencer asks, tearing my eyes from the IMs Garcia floods me with daily. 

“Ready when you are!” I reply, jumping at the opportunity to get away from the files scattered on my desk. You’d think serial killers would take a day off sometimes. Shuffling to my feet, I grab my keys from my desk and grab Spencer’s hand, dragging him to the elevator with me.

“Seems like it’s more ready when Y/N is.” He chuckles, straightening his glasses once he comes to a stop in front of the silver doors. As we step in, Garcia frantically waves at us, before sprinting into the bullpen as the doors close.

“Well, you’re in luck, Pretty Boy. You get me as your personal chauffeur to lunch.” I beam at him as he goes bug-eyed.

“Lucky? In your death trap, Y/N?” He chuckles, putting a flabbergasted look on my face.

“Hey!” I yell at him, playfully elbowing him in the ribs. “My car has lasted 15 long years I’ll have you know, and she runs as smooth as ever,” I shoot back, immediately leaving him behind when the doors open. “Maybe I’ll just go get pancakes without you then.” It’s playful when I lock all the car doors except for mine, and he knows it.

That doesn’t stop him from playing along. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry Y/N! Will you ever forgive my poor soul?” he jokes, holding both his hands over his heart as he begs for forgiveness. Unlocking the doors, I giggle at his antics before heading to the restaurant. 

***

“Y’all ready to order, or do you need a few more minutes?” The server returns to the table with our coffees, along with an apple juice for my inner child. 

“Yes ma’am. Can I get the plain pancakes with eggs, as well as a side of bacon and sausage?” Spencer asks while gathering both our menus for her. “Of course, sugar. What about you darlin’?” she turns to me as Spencer dumps almost the entire sugar container into his mug. 

“I’ll just have the chocolate chip pancake, please!” I smile at her as I steal what’s left of the sugar from the man across from me. 

“No problem, that’ll be right out for y’all.” She smiles at us before heading off to the kitchen. 

“Did you know chocolate chips were invented by Ruth Wakefield because she decided to chop up a chocolate bar and add it to her cookie batter?” Spencer looks to me as he starts with factoids. “And white chocolate isn’t even truly chocolate! White chocolate is made with a blend of sugar, cocoa butter, milk products, vanilla, and a fatty substance called lecithin. Not that it’s a surprise, considering it doesn’t even taste like chocolate. Probably because it doesn't contain chocolate solids.” he rambles as I stare at him with stars in my eyes. “However, dark chocolate is loaded with organic compounds that are biologically active and function as antioxidants. These include polyphenols, flavanols and catechins, among others. Dark chocolate also has a list of different benefits proven from consumption.” He finishes, taking a sip of his coffee as I continue staring at the man.

“What ever would I do without you, Boy Wonder?” I say, seeing Spencer’s face heat up at my remark as he hides behind his mug. 

“M-me?” He asks, as if he couldn’t believe it. He shakes his head in disbelief before I could respond, showering me with many more factoids while waiting for our food rather than accept my compliment.

“Alright, here’s your food darlin’. Let me know if there’s anything else I could do for y’all.” The server tells us, shooting us a smile before moving onto another table. Spencer takes his time cutting up his food, dousing his plate in more syrup than pancake. Meanwhile, I dig into my pancakes as if it’s the last thing I will ever eat. 

Halfway through my own pancakes, I look up to see Spencer looking directly at me with a look I couldn’t quite distinguish. 

“Why are you staring at me?” I ask him, almost seeming to pull him from a trance before responding. 

“Oh. Uh, you have chocolate on your face.” He tells me, seeing my face flush at the information. I grab my napkin and quickly wipe my lips making sure not to miss a spot. Little did I know, there wasn’t a single speck on my face. 

“Is it gone?” I ask him, hoping not to embarrass myself further. 

“Oh, yeah it’s gone.” he smiles, returning his focus onto his own plate. 

Going back to eating, I keep sneaking pieces of the bacon off Spencer’s plate, causing him to smile each time. 

“Hey Spence. I have a question for you.” I tell him, shoving a piece of bacon in my mouth. 

“And what would that be, Y/N?” He asks me, sipping his coffee. 

“Why is it every time we come here you order sausage and bacon, if you never touch the bacon?” I ask him, looking at him with a puzzled expression. 

“Would you like my honest answer?” He pushes back, as if I would want anything else from him. I nod with a mouth full of pancakes, earning a smile while he responds. “Because I know you’ll always steal the bacon from my plate but will never actually order it yourself.” He smiles at me, returning to his own food leaving me speechless and even more red.

Finishing up our plates, Spencer takes initiative to organize all of the empty dishes so our server has less work. Giggling at his antics, I pull out my phone to check the time, seeing we still have plenty of time before our break is over. 

“Are we getting milkshakes?” he asks me, sipping the last of his coffee before adding the mug to his carefully organized dish-pile. 

“Of course we’re getting milkshakes, what kind of question is that, Spencer?” I look at him, almost appalled he would assume we weren’t. “We each have a sweet tooth I’ve ever seen matched by anyone else, why would you ever assume I would say no to a milkshake?”

“I wasn’t sure if we had the time, I didn’t want to make us late.” He explains, shaking his head yet again at my child-like antics. 

When the server returns, we both order the largest mint-chip shakes they had before returning to our usual banter in waiting. Not long after, the server returned with a single shake. 

“I’m so sorry sugar, apparently we only had enough ingredients for one mint-chip. Can I get y’all something else?” The server asks us, feeling bad she couldn’t fulfill our order. 

“You take the mint-chip, Spence. I’ll order something else.” I push the shake toward him as he blocks it from getting to him. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m not worried about it.” He replies, fighting me over a milkshake. 

“Spence-” I begin to argue before he abruptly cuts me off. 

“Would you like to share the shake with me, Y/N?” he asks me, looking me directly in the eye. I froze for a moment, taken aback at the offer from the germaphobe in front of me.

“If that’s okay with you, Spence. Then, sure!” I respond, checking if it was okay with him. 

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t okay, Y/N.” He shoots back, chuckling at me before asking the server for two straws. The man in front of me steals more and more of my heart with every passing moment.

***

Going up the elevator to the BAU was a constant battle between us. Spencer secretly gave the server his card so I wouldn’t even have a chance to fight him on paying. 

“You gave me your trail mix, Y/N! That’s the whole reason I asked you to get lunch in the first place! Why would I let you pay when I extended the invitation?” He shoots at me as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Shooting him a look of discontent, we both sit back at our desks, feeling 2 pairs of eyes staring at us from a few desks over. 

“Don’t look now, but I think Tweedledee and Tweedledum are staring at us.” I lean over to whisper. Reid tries his best to look up at them, nonchalant as possible. Despite the boy being a genius, he is anything but sly, looking just in time to see Derek and Penelope snap their heads to whatever was on his desk. Giving them a smile, Reid picks up his own file to return to his own tasks for the day. However, the task only lasted so long before the genius needed yet another cup of coffee for the day. Heading off to the kitchen, I quickly grab the phone he left on his desk on his break, trying to plan the perfect image. 

Before I could get far, I was abruptly stopped in my tracks. Staring at the homescreen on his phone, I couldn’t understand how I hadn’t noticed this before. Had this been in front of my face the entire time? Staring at the screen, I see myself and Spencer from our weekly movie nights. I had all of our silly photos, yet I had never seen this one. I see myself, puffed out cheeks with my eyes crossed, pulling at my ears to make myself look like a monkey, but my eyes can only look at Spencer. He hadn’t made his silly face. Instead, the man before me is staring directly at me, the sweetest smile across his lips. His little nose scrunch in full effect, his beautiful hazel eyes creased in the corner from his smile. That smile that could melt my heart in two seconds flat. Staring at the screen for what felt like centuries, I refocus on my surroundings when I hear his soft voice behind me. 

“Wow, Y/N. Getting a little slow with the changes now, are we?” He laughs, before noticing the look on my face. Stopping dead in his tracks, he looks at me confused more than ever. Not being able to form words, I raise my hand to show him the wallpaper, the perfect image of us. His eyes go wide, his mug almost slipping through his fingers.

“Y/N, I-” He starts. 

“Spence… Where did this picture come from?” I ask him, looking back at the screen before me. “I’ve never seen this one before,” I whisper, before Spencer puts his hands over mine, the mug now living on his desk. 

“I, uh. I took this one before making a face, I just couldn’t resist.” He whispers, pulling my chin up gently between his two fingers, looking me dead in the eye. “Y/N…” He starts, glancing down before gazing back at me with the same look I saw at the restaurant. “I couldn’t resist because I wanted to keep a physical copy of one of the happiest moments of my life. And I care about you... More than care about you! You make my days so much brighter when you’re around. You’re the only person to ever know me, the real me. And I..” he trails off, working his confidence up to finish his thought. “I love you, Y/N. And that picture was saved, locked away on my phone so I could be reminded how much you mean to me, and how much you care on some of my darkest days. I love you, Y/N. It’s the only thing I have locked away because it’s the moment I knew I was in love with you.” He finishes, breathing out as he waits for me to react. Stunned into silence, I stand there looking at the man, seeing his face turn to panic. “It’s okay if you do-” He starts, stunned when he is cut off by his plush lips being covered by my own. He slides his hand onto my cheek, holding my face as he returns the affection. 

Pulling away, I look him dead in the eye, I pull out of his embrace to my own desk, grabbing my phone. Returning to his side, I unlock my phone to show him my own hidden homescreen, a grin spreading on my cheeks from the flood of emotion. From our self-care night, it is quite possibly my favorite image of the man. He was in his robe, bunny headband and mask, but he was trying to block the images from being taken. His hand was raised in an attempt, but I could hear the laughter radiate from the image, the smile making my heart swoon at every glance. Looking between me and the image, Spencer’s jaw drops at my own revelation, before pulling me into a bone-crushing hug. Burying my face in his neck, I murmur my own “I love you.” Before a whistle from the peanut gallery beside us breaks it up. 

Shooting a look to Penelope, I see she has the biggest smile plastered on her own face, her rosy cheeks probably stinging from the sheer joy painted on. Morgan sitting beside her lounges back in his own chair, shooting a wink our way. 

Returning to our respective seats, I can’t help but steal glances at the man beside me. When he catches me, I can’t help but giggle.

“Hey Spence. How long was I oblivious to your homescreen?” I ask him, curious as to how much of a dumbass I truly was. Seeing his cheeks flush pink, he turns to me with guilt in his eyes, 

“Y/N.. as much as I would love to take the credit, I don’t know where the wallpaper came from. I can barely change it back after you mess with it.” He confesses, a shy smile on his face. Laughing at his technophobe ways, it finally registers that he didn’t actually set the wallpaper. 

“Wait, then who changed it?” I ask him, before hearing stilettos and boots scurrying down the hall, laughter trailing behind them. Looking back at my boy, those eyes stole all my words away, and that smile… the smile I had seen so many times before but never knew the intention, the smile I fell in love with, I knew he would forever be my always.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @spencer-reid-in-a-pool​  @redbullchick​  @samanddeanstolethetardis221b​   @reidetic​ @gretaamyk​ @sunlight-moonrise​ @prettyricky187​ @rileysann​ @itslatinamagia​ @timey-wimey-lovi​  @pinkdiamond1016​

[bluewhale52]

RED (M)

Things you need to know about this fic:

1. Hobi is tied up during sex 2. This piece is inspired by a prompt I saw on @creativepromptsforwriting: “Can we go on one date without you causing someone trauma?” “Babe, I’m a demon. What do you expect me to do?” (Submitted by: welcome-tothe-mystery-shack)

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x female reader

WC: 6.4k

Rating: Explicit. NO MINORS ALLOWED!

Genre: idol!au, fantasy!au, supernatural!au, estabished relationship,

Warning: one of the characters is a demon, mention of Hobi’s red suit (yes, THAT one), oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, kinda rough sex but not that crazy rough, slight choking, for once Hoseok is not the dom.

A/N : thank you to the lovely @illneverrecover who really boosted my confidence and enjoyed the story when I wasn’t even sure about it!

Taglist: @gee-nee​

Just over two years ago, Hoseok met you in an upscale club.He remembers the moment he saw you as if it was only yesterday. He remembers seeing you all by yourself at the bar in the VIP section, your finger circling the mouth of your martini glass lazily. He remembers the blood red dress you wore- how it was so conservative that it covered you up completely, but it hugged you in all the right places. He remembers the way you looked at him- as if you were hungry for him- and it still sends shivers down his spine to this day. 

You approached him that night- nothing unusual for him, men and women flock to him because of his idol status- and he was instantly enraptured. The piercing gaze you gave him rendered him immobile. The swaying of your hips hypnotized him completely that he forgot where he was. And somehow, SOMEHOW, he found his members all gone- to the bar, to the dance floor, to the restroom, who knew. Then you sat yourself next to him, your long fingers trailed from his shoulder down to his thigh. Your mouth whispered such filthy things in his ears and he thought he was going to come in his pants.

Hoseok agreed too easily at your invitation to go back to your place. He had never gone to anyone’s home for a hookup- it was simply too dangerous- but he did not even think twice when you invited him. There was something about how you drew out his desires, almost as if you were feeding off them to satiate your carnal hunger. Though the night was a blur to him, he remembers the lustful, searing passion he had with you. He also remembers waking Jimin up when he returned to the dorm in the early morning, begging him to help cover up all the marks you had left on his neck and collarbones; he was too embarrassed to face the stylists later that day. 

That one night hook-up turned into several nights, and ignoring Namjoon’s warning, Hoseok continued to see you whenever he was in Seoul. Before he knew it, he started developing feelings for you, and he gathered his courage to ask you out on a proper date.

He could see the shock in your face when he asked, but you eventually agreed on one condition. He had told you he was going to New Zealand for Bon Voyage, and you dared him to do a bungee jump there. If he did it, he got himself a date with you. 

And a date was won, for he faced his fears and took the plunge. You both agreed to have your first date in your apartment, a place you both were comfortable in and also for privacy obviously. Dinner was delicious, conversation flew effortlessly, and Hoseok’s feelings grew even stronger. 

He confessed to you as he was pinning you down on your sofa, kissing you hungrily and passionately. You pushed him away, looking worried and confused.

“Babe, are you all right?” He stroked your hair. “I’m sorry that came out of nowhere, I just wanted to let you know, I really want us to pursue this.” 

His heart dropped when you looked away. Then in a small whisper, you replied to him.

“Hoseok, I’m a demon.”

Hoseok stared at you for a few seconds before bursting out laughing. He looked at you once his laughter had subsided, then laughed again, albeit a little more unsurely at the sight of your serious expression.

“Wait, no, there’s no such thing.” He paused. “Right?”

“I really am a demon, Hoseok.”

He eyed you skeptically, figuring out which way your joke was going to. 

“Seeing is believing, right?” You snapped your finger and produced a red flame on your palm. 

Hoseok’s eyes widened. “How.. how did you do that? That’s such a cool magic trick!”

However, he gulped audibly when your facial expression fell. Anyone would be excited to show off a cool magic trick, but you looked… dejected? 

“Hoseok,” you said softly. “You trust me, don’t you? You know that you’re safe, as long as you’re with me.”

“O...kay….” he chuckled nervously.

You stood up and took a deep breath. The apartment turned pitch dark, and your body was bathed in red flame, providing the only source of light. Your eyes turned red, staring him down as your mouth turned into a wicked smile. Hoseok sat frozen on the sofa, fear paralyzing him, finally realizing this was indeed no mere magic trick. Then you raised your arms, and luminous green shadows appeared behind you, ugly and vicious. You leaned down toward Hoseok, and he immediately tried to back away. With a gesture of your hand, two streaks of green slithered around his body, holding him in place. 

“Trust me, Hoseok.” you whispered, then you placed your palm over his heart, and to his horor, you drew out a thin black smoke out of his chest. You then twirled it around your long finger. “This is fear,” you explained, “I pulled this out of you, just a little bit, not all, because I… well I like it when you’re a scaredy cat.”

The green shadows were growling, hungry. “They like negative emotions. Fear, jealousy, greed, they feed on them.”  You blew the black smoke towards the shadows behind you. The green shadows screeched and fought to gobble up the smoke in no time, then you sent them back to the dark abyss with a soft chant. The light came back on, and the flame around your body disappeared. 

You turned to look at Hoseok, once everything was back to normal. He was patalyzed still- eyes unblinking, ears ringing, heart beating fast and brain malfunctioning over what he had just witnessed. 

“You… you’re..” he finally snapped out of his shock, “you’re a demon.”

You nodded and kneeled before him. “I am, Hoseok. And I think I have feelings for you too.”

Hoseok gasped. Then it all went black. 

Hoseok finally came to, and he found himself in your bed, tucked underneath your blanket. He slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes and his head. He tried to recall what happened before he fainted, but he was distracted by the sounds from  outside your bedroom.

Hoseok gingerly got out of bed and walked out, still rubbing his head. Then he found you in the living room with... Yoongi?

“Hyung?”

Yoongi gave him a silent wave as a way of greeting.

“What are you doing here?” Hoseok sat down on the sofa. He noticed you were keeping your distance from him. “What’s going on?”

“Hoseok,” you called his name gently, “do you remember what happened?”

Hoseok tilted his head, trying to recall. He remembered having dinner with you, kissing you, and then…. Hoseok recoiled at the memory of red flame and green shadows. You winced at his reactions.

“Hoseok, please calm down, don’t faint on me again.” You pleaded. 

Hoseok snapped his head towards Yoongi. “Hyung?”

“She told me what happened, Seok-ah, down to the scary bits that knocked you out.”

Hoseok found your eyes again. “So, it’s true then, you’re really a demon?”

“Yeah…” you shrugged your shoulders. “Technically a succubus, but I prefer being called a demon.”

“How… what... “ Hundreds of questions ran through his mind. He looked back at Yoongi for help, and he was shocked to see how unaffected Yoongi looked. “Hyung, did you know all this while? And, why are you here? How can you be so calm?” Hoseok gasped. “Wait, are YOU a demon too?”

“Weirder things have happened.” Yoongi answered nonchalantly.

“Did she show you all the flames and shadows? And they didn’t bother you?”

Yoongi shook his head. “She said I’d be safe, so no, it didn’t bother me much. A bit scary, yes, but I was okay.”

Hoseok stared at Yoongi in amazement, confused at how he was taking the news so easily. So instead, Hoseok stood up to pace back and forth, trying to gather his thoughts. “Okay. So you’re a demon, technically a succubus…”

You nodded.

“... so, did you ever suck my soul? Or tried to? Do I still have a soul?”

You wrung your hands. “I never did, well, I mean, when I first saw you in that club, yeah I wanted your soul so badly because I could smell its purity. You were so tempting. And I did take you home planning to suck it out of you, but I couldn’t do it. Not that night and any nights after.”

Hoseok looked  at you, hearing what you said but not fully comprehending it. He looked at Yoongi for help, but his friend simply shrugged again. “I admit this is a lot to take in, but, she hasn’t hurt you so far.”

“Okay, so you don’t want my soul.” You shook your head. “And what about my members? Do you want their souls?”

“No, of course not! If I wanted theirs, I’d have slept with every single one of them. And I didn’t. Nor do I ever plan to. I just… I just want to be with you.”

Hoseok swallowed hard at your confession. Despite everything that had been revealed to him, he still wanted to be with you too. But he had so many questions yet to be answered. “So, you’ve sucked other people’s souls before?” 

“Well yeah, that’s my job. I have a monthly quota to meet.”

“A quota? What do you mean, a quota?” Hoseok asked, his curiosity peaked. 

“Do you honestly think I’m in this world, just for fun? If I want to keep this amazing apartment, and the amazing fashion labels I have in my wardrobe, I have to work for it.”

“How does it work?” Hoseok asked. “You just go around seducing humans, then suck their souls and... file your report?”

“Basically, yes. But, I don’t do all that seducing anymore, not after I met you.” Hoseok’s eyebrows rose. “I don’t want to have sex with anyone else. So I had to find other ways to keep my job performance up.”

“So what do you do now?” It was Yoongi who spoke.

“Well, I don’t like being called a succubus because, honestly I’m much more than that. Since I don’t partake in any.... activities… anymore, now I’m more like a wicked cupid, if that makes sense?”

Hoseok pinched his nose. “It doesn’t; explain to me? To us?”

You took a deep breath. “Basically, I play matchmaker to cheaters. For example, I set  up a man cheating on his wife with a woman cheating on her husband. I do that a lot these days. It’s boring, and their souls are already corrupted, so they’re not valued as much as purer souls.” you pouted. “It’s a lot more work but it’s the only way to keep myself just for you.”

“So you just make people have sex with each other?” Hoseok asked.

“Yeah, I have to watch them do it,” you made a disgusted face. “It’s easiest to suck their souls out in the moments when they lose control, you know?”  

“So… you watch them?” Hoseok was embarrassed that he was more intrigued than disturbed. 

“Yes....” You narrowed your eyes at him, “... do you... want to watch too?”

Hoseok blushed at your question. “No, no, I don’t, of course not!” He paused for a second. “But, if I wanted to... I could?”

“OKAY!” Yoongi piped up before neither Hoseok nor you spoke. “So the gist of this conversation is that you” Yoongi pointed at you, “are a demon who doesn’t do all the demonic things anymore so that you can build a relationship with him. Correct?“  

You answered Yoongi with a nod, and Hoseok felt a squeeze around his heart; he felt happy that you were willing to make changes to be with him. His brain, however, kept sounding the alarm, screaming at him to step out of this abnormality. 

Hoseok excused himself, and then dragged Yoongi to your bathroom. 

“Hyung, this is crazy, right? I’m crazy that I still want to be with her right?” 

“Honestly, Hobi. If you want to be with her, be with her. If she wanted you soulless, or dead, she’d have done it a long time ago. You were so into her before finding out her true-self. And so far, I think she’s been upfront, as honest as she could.”

“You’re right,” Hoseok paced in the small space. “I do like her, a lot. And I don’t feel… threatened? Or scared? Like it’s a shock, but I’m surprisingly okay with all this.”

“Good, then. So you guys just need to work it out. Maybe ask her what her weakness is, you know? Every demon has that one weakness, right? It’ll be like an exchange of trust. You trust her not to take your soul, and she trusts you not to annihilate her.”

“Hyung, that can’t be healthy, to hold each other at gunpoint.” Hoseok chuckled nervously, but made a mental note to bring it up to you. “Hang on, why did she call you here?”

“I’m the most sensible of the seven of us.” Yoongi answered confidently. “Would you rather Jin Hyung be here screaming his heart out?”

Hoseok waved Yoongi off. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks for being here, Hyung.”

Yoongi opened the door. “I’m leaving now, You guys talk it out, okay?”

Hoseok stayed with you that night, asked you all the questions needed to be asked, and when the sun rose, you became his girlfriend.

“Hobi Hyung!” Jimin bellows from the door. “Noona is here!”

You follow him inside the apartment. Once you and Hoseok became official, he was only too excited to introduce you to his members. Your real identity is still a secret however, except to Yoongi. 

You linger in the kitchen, waiting for your boyfriend. “So, where are you guys going today?” Jimin asks.

“Just dinner, at that Japanese place he went to a few weeks ago. Then maybe some night shopping” 

“You know,” Jimin rubs his chin, “I don’t understand how Hyung does it. Whenever he’s out with you, no one, and I mean, no one is able to spot him.”

You shrug. “He disguises himself well behind his mask and hat.”

“Yeah right,” Jimin snickers as Hoseok comes out of his room. “You’re telling me no one recognises him in THAT? That screams J-Hope of BTS, Noona.”

You look over to where Jimin is pointing. Hoseok is wearing a bright blue jacket with a large FILA across the back. His beanie is maroon red, and his pants are moss green with colourful accessories and pins. His signature little bag is slung across his chest; today he has chosen yellow with rainbow flowers. He will probably wear his orange sneakers to complete the look.  

“Then I guess we’re just lucky, Chim.” You beam at Hoseok as he comes nearer. You are lucky indeed. 

“Ready?” He asks after giving you a kiss. You nod. “Don’t wait up for us, Jimin.”

Jimin eyes you playfully. “Not planning too, Hyung. Have fun!”

You and Hoseok walk hand-in-hand leaving his apartment and down to the parking lot. Once inside his car, he asks. “What were you talking about with Jimin, babe?”

“Oh you know,” you fasten your seatbelt. “He wonders why no one recognises you whenever we venture outside.”

Hoseok chuckles as he starts the engine. “Well, the last time anyone tried to take photos of us, their phones burst in flame and you sent them to have an orgy in a dingy bar.”

You cackle. “That was fun. And it helped me meet my target. I should do that again sometime soon.”

“Well, can we go on one date without you causing someone trauma?" Hoseok asks.

"Babe, I'm a demon. What do you expect me to do?" You retort. “If they don’t bother you, I won’t do anything to them, you know that.”

“I never thought I’d have a guardian demon.” Hoseok laughs heartily. “But I’m glad it’s you.”

You shoot him a sweet smile. “But you know, I do miss torturing a human. I miss their cries, their patheticness. How they promise me the world if only I would give them release. I miss that power.”

“Well,” your boyfriend clears his throat. “You can torture me. Like not that painful kind of torture. But you can make me cry and beg.”

You snap your head towards him. It takes all the power within you to tame the ferocious desires suddenly bubbling in you. “You’d do that? For me?”

“Of course, I want to make you happy.” He reaches out to squeeze your hand. “Just… don’t suck my soul.”

“Of course not. I would never.”

“Okay then. Should we just head to your place now?” Hoseok switches lanes, getting ready to make a u-turn.

“Yeah, fuck dinner. Let’s go home now.”

Hoseok thinks he has died and gone to heaven- or maybe, hell?- when you come out of your walk in wardrobe. You have put on the sexiest, the most tantalizing lingerie he has ever seen, and it has the same colour as his red suit, the one he wore in his concert that sent Army all over the world crazy. 

The teddy hugs your body in all the right places; the deep v-neck shows off your cleavage, the lace covering your breasts is cut so delicately, and hangs on a little string to keep everything together. Below the lace, however, is all see through. He can see your belly button, and the mark of Hell just below it. His eyes move further down, and he gulps. He could see your bare sex, already weeping.  The teddy is high cut too, baring your hips and making your legs look even longer. And when you turn, that sorry excuse of a fabric disappears between your ass cheeks only to reappear at your lower back, going up into a series of intricate web on your back. 

Then Hoseok looks at what you have in your hand. A red silk rope. He looks back up to you. You give him a wicked smile.

“What are you waiting for? Get undressed for me, Daddy.” You instruct him.

He immediately takes his clothes off, and you stop him before he removes his boxers. “Those are for me to take off.” You slyly tease, earning a grin from him.

“Get on the bed.” Hoseok obediently does as you ask. “Hands up.” You grab his wrists, and you bind them to the bed posts with your silk rope, tightly enough that he winces slightly. You then straddle him, raking your nails up and down his lean, hard torso. He writhes underneath you. You slide further down so that you rest directly above his now hard cock.

“Oh God,” Hoseok gasps as he feels your wetness through his boxers. You tut in disapproval, and lean down to nip and suck on his chest harshly.

“We don’t say that word in this house, Daddy. You should’ve known better.” You chastise him. You gently rub the purple mark you have just left on his chest. You lay our palm flat against his nipples, rubbing the stiff peaks.

“I’m sorry, babygirl,” he pants, “I won’t say it again.”

You bend down so your face hovers over Hoseok’s. You rub your nose against his, then your lips ghost over his mouth and along his jaw. You smile when you hear him whimper. 

“You trust me, don’t you?”

“I do, baby. I love you. Kiss me, please?”

You kiss him passionately,  the last act of intimacy before you start playing with him. You roll your hips, and you feel his body jerks slightly. You hold him down, as your mouth swallows his moans and your dripping core rubs against his hardness.

You sit back up, your hands back onto his chest, and your hips continue to roll. You watch him squirm underneath you. His hands are balled in tight fists, his arms flexing, showing the sinewy muscles. You trail a finger from the inside of his elbow, down the biceps, and to his shoulder and collarbone.

“You’re so fucking hot, Jung Hoseok. Remember that night we met? Once I got you here, I didn’t even want your soul anymore, I just wanted you to fuck me senseless.”

Your finger goes further down along his pec, and circles around his hard nipple. You flick it gently and Hoseok closes his eyes as he suppresses a moan. You raise your finger to his lips, prodding them open.  

“Suck.”

Hoseok envelops your digit immediately, pressing his tongue flat against it. His head starts bobbing, sucking your finger until he is drooling. You raise yourself up to your knees, and Hoseok groans at the loss of your wetness on his boxers. But then he moans around your finger as you slither up towards his chest. Your sex, covered in the most ridiculously see through material, is right in front of him. He can see clearly how you have soaked the fabric, your pussy lips swollen and ready for him to feast on. He looks up at you, eyes pleading. He is desperate for your taste.

You return his stare, and tilting your head, you pull your finger out of his mouth. Then you run it from the bottom of your neck, down to the valley between your breasts, and further south it goes. Hoseok whines at the wet trail of his saliva down your teddy, and when your finger slides over your covered pussy, he lets out a loud moan.

“Hmmm, what is it, Daddy?” You slide your finger back and forth, his saliva all but replaced by your own juices. “Do you want a taste?”

“Yes, yes please.” Hoseok can’t believe how whiny he sounds. He has never been on anyone’s mercy before. 

You pull the lingerie over your cunt aside, and you watch Hoseok’s eyes widen even more as you slip your wet finger inside you. He jerks forward, only to be held back by the restraints around his wrists. 

“Oh please… please…” he implores, “let me taste you please.”

You continue to finger yourself, ignoring his pleas. You push in another finger, and then another, throwing your head back at the stretch. He strains further against his restraints; his desperation could probably power him enough to rip the ropes off. 

The squelching sounds your fingers make are so loud in his ears.  “Please, please, baby, fuck let me taste you.” He beseeches you. “Please.”

You look down at your lover. You love how needy he is being for you. “Why Daddy? You’re not enjoying the show I’m putting on for you?”

He licks his lips and swallows hard. “I love it baby, I can smell you from here. I just want a taste, please let Daddy have a taste?”

Chuckling, you grab his hair, jerking his head back. Then you pull your fingers out and wipe them on his lips. He pokes his tongue out to desperately lick at the honey smeared around his mouth. You then shove your fingers in, and he immediately sucks on your digits, licking them clean. He closes his eyes and groans at the taste of you. You continue to rut yourself on his chest.

“Taste good, Daddy?” You stroke his hair. He nods meekly. “Do you want more?”

He mumbles his answer around your fingers. “Yes, yes please baby girl.”

You pull your fingers out, now drenched with his saliva. You raise yourself up and shuffle further up so that you’re right above his head. Your teddy is still pushed to the side, and you rub your fingers over your wet slit. 

“Shit baby, let me go, let me finger you, hmm?” 

“Shut up and enjoy the show.”  You plunge your fingers in again, and Hoseok’s moans at the sight drowns out yours. You start to fuck yourself, with your lover underneath watching you, praising you and encouraging you to cum. Just before you reach your peak however, you stop, and you remove your fingers. Wiping them on his mouth, he greedily laps at them again, savoring every drop of your taste you are offering him.

“Such a good Daddy,” you pur, “I haven’t cummed yet, do you want to make me cum with your tongue?”

Hoseok nods zealously. He shifts his body further so that he lies fully on his back, his head flat on your pillows. You can feel his hot breaths on your sex, ready to devour you. You lower yourself to his mouth, and his tongue immediately darts out at your opening, collecting all your leaking juices.  

“That’s right Daddy, drink me up.” You rock your hips above him, enjoying his wet organ exploring you. You reach down and pull back the skin above your pussy, revealing your throbbing clit. He moans and clamps his mouth over your nub. He alternates between sucking and flicking it, determined to bring you to orgasm. 

“Daddy, that feels so good,” you encourage him, grabbing a fistful of his hair again. “Make me cum with your tongue. Make me feel good, Daddy.”

Hoseok goes into overdrive. His body is tense, vibrating, he is focusing all his might to get you to your climax. And finally he is rewarded. He feels your core drip more as your thighs shake, and then you curse loudly, sending the lights in your room flickering. 

Once your heart beat returns to normal, you lie down next to him. Turning his head to face you, you kiss him slowly, savoring your taste on his lips. “Such a good Daddy,” you praise him, “making me cum so good.”

Hoseok beams at your praise. “Untie me, baby girl. I can make you feel even better.”

You tsk at him. “I want to make you suffer more.” Hoseok mewls. You pat his head and look at his bound hands. “Are your wrists hurting?”

He whines louder, mixed with laughter. “I just want to touch you. Please.”

“I like you tied up like this,” you trail your fingers up and down his chest. “I like having you helpless and completely under my control.”

Hoseok shudders all over. He has never felt this desperate before. He just wants to touch you, to pin you down and please you over and over. If only he could get out of the damn restraints. 

You can see the desperation in his eyes, and you decide to reward him. You pull down the straps of the teddy off your shoulders, and you smile sinfully as you peel the lace off your breasts, presenting them for his viewing pleasure, but definitely not for touching. Hoseok bites down on his lower lip. You lean over his torso, to reach your bedside table. In doing so, your breasts brush his chin, and he instantly mouths at whatever flesh he can reach, making you giggle.

You dig around the drawer of your bedside table, angling your chest to Hoseok’s mouth so that he can finally capture a nipple. Placing the perky tip between his teeth, he bites down on it to elicit a yelp out of you, before blowing at it and flicking it with his tongue. After grabbing an item from the drawer, you sit back up, and he cries as your nipple leaves his mouth. 

“See what I have Daddy.” You show him the item in your hand; it is a small bullet vibrator. You turn it on. The soft whirring fills Hoseok’s ears. 

“I didn't know you have toys.”

“Oh, I do.” You shuffle down to his crotch, “I just never need it when I’m with you. You always please me so well. But I think we can have a bit of fun tonight, hmm?”

You place the vibrator on his lower abdomen, just above his boxers. Then you peel the teddy off your body, slowly, giving him a striptease. Once naked, you bring the lingerie to his mouth, and he obediently sucks whatever arousal you have leaked onto the fabric. Satisfied, you then move back down and grab the waistband of his underwear, and you turn to look back at him. His eyes are closed, jaw clenching as the little tremors from the toy run through his body. You pull his boxers down slowly, and his red angry cock pops out and flops over the vibrator, making him groan aloud.

You take the vibrator and run it up and down his length, as you lean down to lick the precum off his tip. His body jerks violently, his hands pulling hard against the ropes. 

“Don’t break my bed posts.” You warn him, tapping the vibrator on his cock. “I’ll be very upset.”

“I can buy you a new one.” His breathing is erratic. “Shit, that feels so fucking good.”

“Hmm, does it? How about here?” You move the vibrator to his balls. He screams at once. You laugh mockingly at him. “Oh Daddy, did I almost make you cum?” Hoseok curses. 

You press the vibrator back on the base of his cock. “How much do you want to fuck me?”

“So so bad, please. Let me fuck you. Let me feel you on my cock. Please.”

“Will you give your soul to me, for exchange of a fuck?” You tease him.

Hoseok whimpers. “Take everything of me, I’m all yours.”

“Tsk tsk,” you tut. “Did you forget who I am, Daddy? You should never say that to a demon.”

“Not fair, not fair.” Hoseok is breathless. You move the vibrator closer to his balls again, and he sobs. “Ah, I want to cum in your cunt, please. Please.”

“You don’t want my mouth, Daddy?” You give his length a fat lick, while pressing the toy harder onto his testicles. His cock twitches and his body jerks. You see the muscles of his thighs tightening. “You’re not allowed to cum yet, Daddy!”

“I’m fucking trying not to!” Hoseok bellows. 

You laugh heartily. “All those times you edged me, this is payback.” You lick the head of his cock, and give it little sucks. He thrashes his head on the pillow.

“Please, please…” he begs again.

“Please what, Daddy?” You are stroking and licking his shaft lazily. 

“Suck me or ride me… fuck I don’t care! I just want to be in you, anywhere, please!”

You hum against his length as you move the vibrator to his inner thigh. His legs shake and he lets out a very loud, frustrated moan. You decide that you have teased him enough. Moreover, your sex is sopping wet and throbbing, completely ready for his cock.

Putting the vibrator aside, you straddle him. You both moan as your soaking center meets his hard length. You rock your hips back and fro, coating the whole of his length with your juices. You press down harder on him, sandwiching his cock between the lips of your pussy and his own abdomen. 

“Can you feel how wet I am, Daddy? You’re making me so wet.”

Hoseok is unable to reply. You see him biting his lip and closing his eyes so tightly, as if the action would help him stop from climaxing early. You reach down and grab his cock, all slippery and lubricated now. You position the head of his cock at your entrance, then you slowly sink onto him. You stop halfway however, and order him to open his eyes to look at you.

Holding his gaze, you slam your hips down until he fully impales you. He hisses loudly as your tightness envelops him. “So tight, ah fuck baby, you’re so fucking tight.”

You roll your hips as your inner walls continue to squeeze him, almost daring him to come. Then, getting your knees in position, you start riding him. You reach out for your vibrator and turn it back on. You pull back the skin over your clit, and you press the little device on your bud as you continue to bounce on Hoseok’s cock.

Hoseok curses- the feeling of your cunt contracting around his cock and the pulses from the toy is pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He is not sure if he can hold out much longer. You see his face scrunching up, a tell-tale sign that he is close. So you toss the vibrator aside and lean down towards him. Your hips falter a bit, their rhythm slowing down at the new position. 

You can hear how wet you are riding his cock. The sounds fill your ears, and combined with the smell of sex in the air, you start to get dizzy. The man underneath you is spewing filth and praises at the same time, heating your body further. Licking your lips, you close your hand around his neck, gently. His eyes widen, but he does not protest. You tighten your grip, and he sucks in a breath audibly. Your thumb grazes his adam apple, before you move up to his pulse point. Your mouth instantly waters at how fast it is pulsating; suddenly, the hunger for his pure soul is getting stronger within you.

Hoseok sees your eyes flash red for a moment, and he calls out your name. “Stay with me,” he whispers. “Baby. I trust you. Stay with me.”

His sweet voice brings you back, and you let go of his neck. Your breath is erratic now, and your hips pause. You shake your head to clear the red haze out of your mind. You look down at your boyfriend, and amidst the lust and the desperation, there is love oozing out for you. You take a deep breath, then placing your hands on his solid chest, you murmur, “Hoseok... Daddy, make me cum.”

Hoseok snaps at your request. He twists his wrists to grip the rope that binds him, and he plants his feet firmly on the bed. Then like a man possessed, he starts jackhammering up into you. You keep your body still above him, giving your body to him fully. You arch your back as his cock continues to bruise your hole, enjoying the sensation as he spears you over and over at a maddening pace. The pressure quickly builds in your core, your pussy clamping down on his member.

Hoseok’s hair is matted on his forehead. Sweat has broken all over his body, his muscles tensing as he feels you getting closer to your climax. He is nearing his peak too, and he wants to free fall with you.  “Baby… baby, please… can I cum?” 

“Yes, yes, Daddy, fill me with your cum.”

Hoseok snaps his hips faster, and he does not slow down when you finally climax. As the powerful orgasm sweeps through you, you let out a deafening shriek, and red flames engulf your body while your room is enveloped in an unearthly green glow with the shadows emerging, eager to be freed to feed on the lust that fills the air. Hoseok gasps at the sight, but he continues fucking you through your orgasm, until, at long last, he cums in your pussy, shooting his seeds deep into you as he screams your name.

You are brought back at the sound of your name. The fire immediately dies out, the green glow in your room subsides and the shadows disappear as you come down from your high. You can feel Hoseok’s cock throbbing inside you, his cum leaking out from your hole. Stilling your breathing, you reach for his bound hands to free them. His hands collapse onto the bed, his whole body now limp.

You take his hands, concerned in your face as you rub and kiss his wrists, all red from the restraints. “Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?”

Hoseok shakes his head, his eyes closed. His whole body is shiny and slick with sweat. “Fuck, that was out of this world.” He manages to say. His chest heaving up and down.

You smile wholeheartedly with relief and bend down to kiss him. “Let me run you a bath, hmm? I’ll give you a nice massage.”

Hoseok opens his eyes. “OK. It’s the least you can do, for almost eating me up alive.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve never cummed so hard before. I totally lost it.”

A tired but proud smile adorns his face. “You should tie me up more often then, you know, to practice your self-control.”

“I can’t agree more.” You kiss him again and again, apologizing between kisses and professing your love to him. The way his lips are melting against yours and how his tongue licks your mouth is stirring your desire again, but you know he will be too out of it. So reluctantly, you remove yourself and head to the bathroom to prepare the bath you have promised.

An hour later, you and Hoseok lie in bed, naked and fresh from your bath together. He spoons you, wrapping his arms tightly around your body. You fall asleep quickly, comfortable and secure in his embrace. When you stir awake at dawn however, those same arms are spreading and pinning your legs down, as his mouth is latched on your pussy.

“Hoseok...” you hoarsely call out his name. You look down to find his eyes staring back at you from between your legs. 

“Ah, Daddy, that feels good.. .” You sigh contentedly, surrendering yourself to your lover. He eats you out lazily, until he brings you to an orgasm, nothing as earth shattering as before, but delicious nonetheless. Hoseok then climbs up your body and kneels before you. You eagerly suck him until he pulls back, and then he flips you to get you on your hands and knees. He kisses your neck softly as he pushes himself into you.

“Why do you feel so fucking good?” He moans against your neck, enjoying the way your walls close around him. “What power have you got over me, baby girl?”

You gasp as he slowly pulls out before slamming back in. He threads his fingers in your hair and he pulls it to turn your head sideways so he can kiss you as he drags his cock in and out of you, rubbing that sweet spot inside. He keeps his rhythm slow but with purpose, and before long, you both climax together, then collapsing onto the bed.

The sun breaks into your bedroom as you relax in bed, basking in your post-orgasm haze. Hoseok remains on top of you, his heart beating out of his chest against your back. You wriggle to turn around so you can wrap your arms around him, protesting when he is trying to move, telling him that you love the feel of his weight on top of you. 

You stroke his hair, and you feel your chest tightens as he nuzzles your neck.

“Hoseok, thank you for staying with me.” You surprise yourself as you hear your voice breaks. “I know it has not been easy at all.”

Hoseok leans up and looks lovingly at you, his thumb wiping a tear that has escaped your eye. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, baby. Demon or not, you’re mine and I’m yours.”

Happy birthday Hobi 💜

Published 18022021

[sassyangelchild]

Mahiru (MILGRAM) and why I voted her guilty

Okay so I know that Mahiru’s trial time has almost ended but I wanted to share my thoughts on her and her crime. English is not my mother tongue so I may make mistakes, sorry in advance.

At first I thought the same as a lot of people, that her and his boyfriend had problems, she pressured him too much and he killed himself... BUT then I satrted to think, and to find her MV a little suspicious.... what if they weren’t even dating?

Ok hear me out.  I’m not saying they didn’t know each other. But I don’t trust Mahiru’s POV. Yes, the PV can’t lie because it’s extracted from their minds but that only means that we are seeing what Mahiru truly thinks and how she viewed the crime. What she thinks happened and what happened could not be exactly the same. 

Now I’m going to analyze the PV to support my theory. Obviously I can’t know if it’s true, I can’t only speculate since we don’t really know the truth, but I’m going to explain the things that made me reach this conclusion. Some parts I would mark them as pure speculation based in if my theory is true. The translation of the diary is a translation posted in the youtube video comments by 猫黒.

So Mahiru’s story is a 16 day story (the number of entries in her diary that appear in the PV). The first two days Mahiru and the man who is supossed to be her boyfriend don’t even know each other, so we are talking about a 14 days relationship/12 days if we take into account the first day they TALKED for the first time. It’s... quite short.

Day 3 is the first time they even exchange a GLANCE and we don’t even know if the “boyfriend” noticed her lol they locked eyes for a moment but it’s not something so unusual. Mahiru felt it was fate, sure, but we don’t have the boy’s point of view.

It’s not until day 5 they really interact. Day 4 is Mahiru seeing him but she doesn’t even talk with him and he doesn’t approach her either so... he probably didn’t even notice her/didn’t know her. Day 5 she finally is able to talk with him. 

Day 8 Mahiru decides to confess waiting for him outside his work. This is... weird. I mean, they don’t even know each other that much but she is already waiting outside his work? To me this seems like she stalked him since she couldn’t get a hold of him by normal means. The most normal interaction if they were already friends would be to call him or something to hang out, this feels more like Mahiru trying to ensure he can’t avoid her since she knows he has to go to work and go home at some point, it doesn’t seem like he is expecting her to be there and for that reason she is early, to make sure he doen’t go home without encountering her. She even call it an ambush. 

Then she calls it a date but based on what I said above I don’t really think it was, although for Mahiru it was because her mind works like that so it’s not a lie for her. I thinks it’s the same as in day 3, for her it was “destiny” but we don’t have the boy’s point of view. Also a very suspicious thing: she doesn’t tell you the boy accepted the confession. We suposse he must have because from that moment Mahiru is convinced they are dating and tells you that but I don’t think Mahiru is a reliable narrator and if they are really going out, why refuse to say “he said yes”? She just says “Not gonna say. But can’t you tell from my face?”. She avoids telling crearly what was the answer.

 And it’s not only that. The diary entries start to become messier, the lines more broken and the text harder to read around day 8, the confession, until they resemble an anonymous threat letter lol. Why would it get darker when supossedly the guy told her yes? My theory is that things didn’t go as well as Mahiru makes it seem in day8. Maybe in her head she is still convinced that things are going to work out in the end but deep down she knows things are not that good and so the diary becomes more of a mess reflecting that.

Day 10, she seems to thinks they are going out and every time they meet she calls it a date, but I find interesting that she says he doesn’t seems to notice her appearence. You could say he is just that sort of guy but come on, they are at the start of the relationship and he doesn’t seem to look at her or tell her she is pretty? Seems to me like he isn’t even interested in her romantically speaking and probably doesn’t even think they are in a relationship lol

Okay in day 11 they go to the same place. Maybe they really went together (which doesn’t mean he thinks about it like a date, he could thinks about her like a friend or a nice girl without wanting to be in a romantic relationship with her) or maybe, since she already said it’s a place from a movie he really liked they could have meet there by pure chance. I can’t really say without more info.

Day 12, and this is the exact moment where I started to find everthing super suspicious. First Mahiru is totally in love with the guy, she talks constantly about him in the diary, she interprets everything he does or likes as fate or something good blablabla.... then why doesn’t she say more about that day? She has been in her boyfriend’s house for the first time and she says she hardly remembers anything? Are you kidding me? She can’t tell anything about the date? They hang out at his house and she can’t even say something like “wow, he finally made a move, I’m so happy” “wow we talked a lot and I had a lot of fun” “we watched films” “I’m a little sad because he didn’t try anything”..... How can she not have anything to say about such a step in their relationship when she usually talks about the smallest interaction they have? It’s super suspicious. And the weird things don’t end there.

The picture of day 12 shows her in his house but don’t you thinks it’s a little weird? Because the boyfriend is not seen anywhere at all. They even put a mirror in there to show you that he isn’t there. Why put that mirror there if not to show us that yes, he is not there welcoming her, we aren’t seeing him and it’s not because he is in front of her because then he would be reflected in there. And then you start to wonder... And realize all the dates and stuff Mahiru talks about where the boyfriend should be... he is just not there. It’s always Mahiru alone with the exception of one day we would talk later. And it’s not because the photos can only show Mahiru because we’ve seen the hands of the person who sells her coffe in day 2, the dog in day 8 and the hairdresser in day 10 that is even shown in the mirror too. Why is the only person who is not shown in the photos the boyfriend? Because he wasn’t even hanging out with her, she probably stalked him and thought about it like a date. 

Day 14 is the only one where we supossedly see the boyfriend, and in case it really is him it only makes it weirder for him not be in all the other photos. Mahiru is always talking about they going out on dates but she is always shown alone. 

Also she says she “really asked him to come along”. Why do you have to really insist if he is supossed to be your boyfriend who loves movies? Maybe because he doesn’t even know you that well and you are not going out...

Day 15 they go to the shrine to pray for the new year. Again he is not shown in the photo, and considering that is quite common to go to pray at the shrine in new year I think (again) that although they may have seen each other there for real it was not a date although Mahiru probably thinks that it was fate and therefore a date of sorts.

Mahiru’s wish is also weird. Why woul anyone get in their way or why is she thinking they are no going to be together? They supossedly just started going out, why is she so paranoic with him leaving? Maybe because they are not really going out and she fears he is going to get taken by other person since he is technically single.

Day 16, the day before the crime, the last entry we have before the scene where Mahiru wakes up with an horrified look in her face. She says she is in his house waiting with the food ready. Ok lovely but... think about it. First, if it’s a surprise it means he doesn’t know she is in his house so how has she entered? Did he gave her his house keys? That’s a little weird since they aren’t going out for that long, Mahiru dind’t even mention him giving her the keys (nor has she mentioned him doing nothing a boyfriend would do like kissing her or telling her he loves her) so they don’t seem so close yet. She says she has jotted down everything he likes, which makes me think that he hasn’t told her, she has deduced it by... basically oberving him which depending on how has she done it could be stalking. 

Okay now think about it. You are a boy who meets Mahiru. She seems nice, sure, but you aren’t really interested in going out with her. Then one day she is outside your work waiting for you, confesses and you tell her no so you thinks everything is okay. She keeps talking to you so you think “well nothing wrong with that I guess”. One day you return home and she is there. You don’t know how she has entered. She is just there, smiling as if nothing is wrong, with dinner ready. That would scare me to death. 

And the next thing we know is that he is dead. 

I think he freaked out, told her she was creeping him out and that he didn’t want her to keep stalking him, that he dind’t love her... and she snapped.

If we listen to the song she is shown as someone who doesn’t really care about his boyfriend’s thoughts. She thinks his distressed face is cute instead of worrying for why is he making that face in the first place, she calls him knowing she would wake him up, she talks about a “breakup ritual” like it’s something normal when it isn’t and even if they were going out if they are constantly breaking up she should be thinking about which are the reason because that is going to end up being a toxic relationship but she doesn’t seem worried at all... In one line she says  "wonder if you’ll get angry soon" and in other she says  "I’m going to start relying on you if you’re kind to me, so please forgive me, thanks!". That sounds like he stayed friends with her (why wouldn’t he at the start if she haven’t done anything bad to him) and she interpreted as permission to start fantasizing about being more with him and start stalking him. The lyrics make her seem emotionally manipulative “ If you don’t hug me, even our hearts will start drifting apart”, “ Giving you love to the point of pulling you down”,  “ We fought sometimes/I was happy to get hurt/Let’s have matching pain, this sickness is pretty bad/This is a claim of responsibility/From the two of us with matching love”. 

I think some of the lyrics fit quite well my theory of them not being in a real relationship “Wanting to know everything about you, but wanting to die because it can’t come true”.

And lastly don’t forget the interrogations we have seen up until know. They ask Mahiru what she would do to atone for her sin and she says she doesn’t even know if  her actions were a bad thing. She also said to Es that if they are not careful she might fall in love and kill him too. When asked what does she want from her lover she says that she only wants for him to accept her love (meaning his previous “boyfriend” who I think wasn’t in reality her boyfriend did not accept her love, making me believe more in my theory). She is also shown to be quite self centered and selfish, always talking about what she wants without caring about what her partner might feel (when asked what is worse than death she replied not being able to love... girl you killed the guy, I think he has it worse and all you are thinking is like “oh, how bad I killed him because I can’t keep on forcing my love on him”)

To sum up, this are the reasons why I voted Mahiru guilty and I seriously think she was not in a relationship with the guy or at least she has distorted the reality in her mind.