#bagel’s blurbs

[anderscim]

// spoilers for ch2 ep 12

• • •

at the very least, it seems like J has an alibi on both ends, so for now i can’t really have her as my prime suspect like i always have—unless other information comes up which incriminates her again.

in that case, i think i’ll finally have to turn away from eden denial. oh god. （ ; ; ）

[anderscim]

okay, in that case i may have overreacted a bit too much. sorry about that (-.-;)

thank you for sharing this! this makes much more sense.

https://x.com/DespairTime/status/1832885413209411891

Around 14 minutes into episode 12, I think many people misunderstood what David said here. He is saying something like, "Anyone should be able to recognize Xander without having met him." He is not trying to imply that he doesn't have amnesia.

For example, it's like the case at the beginning of the chapter like "Anyone should be able to recognize Mariabella without having met her."

Everyone but Teruko recognizes Mariabella, but rather than this implying that that everyone but Teruko has regained special memories, it just means that Teruko was living under a rock.

It's rather unfortunate that such a critical misunderstanding became commonly accepted, I'm sorry for not conveying it clearly.

[nottsangel]

since it's almost and basically summer, consider this: a warm afternoon cuddle in bed w theo n u start lazily rubbing your ass into his hardening cock. and he's groaning in your neck, kissing along your jaw ..... UGH

ohhh… he’d have his arms wrapped tightly around you, the humid room so quiet you could hear his slow heartbeat thumping. you feel peaceful, the occasional cool summer breeze through the open windows feeling nice against your hot skin as you softly hear birds chirping. with the damp sheets barely covering you both, you unintentionally push against him, your ass pressing against his cock, instantly eliciting a groan from him. “hmm.”

with a sly smile spreading on your face, you now purposely press further against him, wiggling your ass as his hands trail to your hips, gripping them tightly. you know exactly what that means— he’s warning you that if you continue teasing him, you’ll have to face the consequences as well.

“theo…” you murmur, feeling his hot breath against your skin before he gently leaves a trail of soft kisses on your neck and jawline, making you more needy for him as you let out a soft whine. “my pretty girl.” his hands roam over your body, roughly massaging your tits as he presses himself against you, feeling his boner gradually grow harder.

“fuck, i— i need you, theo.” you plead, unable to wait any longer. you hear him chuckle at your eagerness, his hand slowly moving to your core, rubbing your clothed and already soaked pussy. you feel so desperate, yearning to feel more of him as soft pleas leave your lips. “shhh, i got you, bella. gonna make you feel so fucking good.”

ੈ♡˳

[bagelist]

now, im gonna release a poll to get a more diverse result. Due to tumblr's character limit, I will type them out as the "text" part of the post and the poll will just contain numbers

1: "The first angel made itself deaf out of fear of hearing evil. The second made itself blind, and the third made itself mute."

2: "Inside pitch black, a single lantern shines brightly. That is when you should be wary of it."

3: "Solitary confinement, six feet under."

[anderscim]

i love how every single one of us collectively noticed this, and then proceeded to not connect it to Eden despite the fact that we all suspected it ＿|￣|○

expect the unexpected, i guess.

FF.

The fork was in the clock. The fork. Was in the fucking

Clock.

It was right in front of us for a fucking year

I KNOW! I'm kinda mad it's the one damn theory I didn't bring up in the LGI video, because I did see a few posts at the time speculating this particular twist, I just thought it was too unlikely. I did get the connection to Xander, but assumed it was calling Xander "a broken clock that's right twice a day" considering the context of the MV. So close.

What I'm getting from this is that I should suspect Eden more. Not only is she the CH2 culprit and the one who ripped out Xander's eye, she's also the MM and the CH1 culprit somehow! This means Min wasn't executed, so she'll come back, trust (/j).

[midnightwind]

I rise from bed with the sound of a thousand cracking joints and an exhaustion so deep it's buried in the marrow of my bones

[bbina]

if u ever come to europe ill be ur European tour guide 🙂‍↕️ my knowledge will come from google but ill make sure youll run into ur people

PLEAAASEE DOOOOOOO. madrid and barcelona are my top europe destinations ‼️‼️‼️ i’m gonna bring myself there one day 🤞

[sturniqlo]

PRETTY GIRL SOFT LAUNCH- MATT STURN

summary: reader and matt love to soft launch in their instagram posts SOCIAL MEDIA BLURB

cw: FLUFF

an: thank you so so so much for 2k!! here is my gift to you guys😕💋 | read pretty girl here

masterlist | join my taglist

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

it's been several months since matt and y/n have made it official. even though they've never publicly said that they're together, everyone knows. something they love to is post mini soft launches in their instagram posts and stories and watch the fans go crazy in the comments.

liked by matthew.sturniolo, nicolassturniolo, oliviarodrigo, ariana_greenblatt, christophersturniolo, and 804,742 others

y/n/y/l/n: lately🌚

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madisonbeer: need the first photo framed in my room

| y/n/y/l/n: i love youu

nicolassturniolo: 🌊

| matt&y/nfan: WHAT DO YOU KNOW?!

sturniolofan7: the third slide omg

jennaortega: okay, where is that ice cream from?

y/nsgirl: is that MATT?!

matthew.sturniolo just uploaded to their story

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matthew.sturniolo: painting is not for me

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christophersturniolo: your painting didn't even look like a cat

y/n/y/l/n: 🖼️

sturniolo26: matt soft launching?

nathandoe8: paint on the $50 shirt is crazy

y/nfan48: y/n's comment omg

| hater8: it's just an emoji

liked by matthew.sturniolo, ariana_greenblatt, nicolassturniolo, conangray, madisonbeer

y/n/y/l/n: ☀️

comments have been turned off on this post

liked by y/n/y/l/n, nicolassturniolo, christophersturniolo, nathandoe8, quenblackwell, and 634,472 others

matthew.sturniolo: slumped in nyc

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nicolassturniolo: bring me back a bagel

y/n/y/l/n: 🗽

christophersturniolo: i think you forgot to take me

sturnfan38: the fact that they love going to new york together now😭😭

| sturnfan01: how do we know?

| sturnfan38: they've been seen in ny together like 5 times in the past few months

y/n/y/l/n just uploaded to their story

time jump (kinda)

liked by matthew.sturniolo, sabrinacarpenter, christophersturniolo, jennaortega, nicolassturniolo, and 947,482 others

y/n/y/l/n: around the sun with him :)

comments have been limited

matthew.sturniolo: ❤️❤️

nicolassturniolo: so cutee

conangray: omg

christophersturniolo: me when?

jennaortega: matthew.sturniolo i want her back😭

| matthew.sturniolo: sorry :/ we're locked in

liked by y/n/y/l/n, nicolassturniolo, christophersturniolo, jennaortega, madisonbeer, and 853,382 others

matthew.sturniolo: 365 days with pretty girl :D

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y/n/y/l/n: ily

sturniolo58: boyfriend matt boyfriend matt boyfriend matt

christophersturniolo: my parents fr

sturniolo37: it's actually official now

y/nfan95: he calls her pretty girl oh my gosh😭😭

[anderscim]

...it was that simple. are you actually kidding me right now.

i'm glad this was finally solved, though! and the message makes perfect sense in terms of xander and david's dynamic + individual characterization. kudos to you for figuring that out! (edit: actually, just realized something. this message is somewhat of a contradiction with one of the earlier points in the MV, but tally5 fills in the full reasoning behind the contradiction—i guess i'll have to analyze that later.)

...but my god, DRDTdev chose what was possibly the most misleading moment of all time to put this code. i guess that's the point of a puzzle, but it's kinda hilarious to see how wildly off i was because of everything else that jumped out at me when i was initially taking a crack at it. (jabberwocky jabberwocka... you have changed my life forever.)

boosting this post for everyone else!

Danganronpa: Despair Time - LGI numbers

Danganronpa: Despair Time spoilers (up to ch2 ep11), including the associated MV for that episode

so I remembered DR:DT's version of Literature Girl Insane and apparently from what my friends told me there isn't a place with an explanation for the numbers at 3:50 associated with note 14. I guess I'll explain it here because I DID figure it out

the MV shows two numbers on screen like [number] & [number] = ???:

the numbers are a little hard to read off but if you do it correctly it's

14631484268173741020143036451175923368636278930404923743082436772069705217326 & 43607886503718811525798764321686495628071353085956330717581498375291444100526 = ???

now, the hint in the description is [14] Hint: word length of 256, like 2^8. so it's binary which should be converted to text

taking the bitwise AND gives this in binary:

10000001001001001000000110100001100001011101100110010100100000011000010110110001110111011000010111100101110011001000000110110001101111011011110110101101100101011001000010000001110101011100000010000001110100011011110010000001111001011011110111010100101110

now, if you convert this to binary on its own, it looks like gibberish, but that's because the alignment is off. the length of this isn't a multiple of 8. so if you add two 0s to the start:

0010000001001001001000000110100001100001011101100110010100100000011000010110110001110111011000010111100101110011001000000110110001101111011011110110101101100101011001000010000001110101011100000010000001110100011011110010000001111001011011110111010100101110

THEN split it apart and convert it from binary to text, you get an actual message. it's not the biggest thing ever, but still cool, and it has exactly as many question marks as the screenshot above wants, so it's definitely the right answer:

I have always looked up to you.

[anderscim]

very happy to hear that DRDT will be coming back!

now, it’s time to see how many of the theories i’ve made over this hiatus turn out entirely wrong (￣^￣)ゞ

[tastesousweet]

⭒ blurb : fwb!hamzah x grumpy!reader

summary: short lil fic for these two lol , based on this request thank u for ur patience anon!!!!!

warnings: friends with benefits relationship, mentions of sex, um yk what hell yea

a/n: hamzah is way more high energy here than irl but this is a character based on hamzah (and with his face) so !!!!!

hamzah is freezing his ass off. it's actually unbearable. he's got to the point where he's mumble-lecturing (with a slight uncontrollable chatter to his mouth) himself as he walks down the crowded sidewalk, "shoulda' put another fuckin' layer on" or "no hat? really? it's 26 degrees and i don't even have protection for my poor ears" or a dragged whine under his breath of "i'm sooo cold."

he wastes no time, practically ramming through the cafe's petite glass door with a gentle but welcoming "we're open!" sign. as soon as he’s inside he holds his hands up to his mouth and hoards any heat he can into them as he sifts through the lingering line. hamzah is always grateful for your strict earliness (or more so allowance for his tardiness) that gets him a hot coffee and fresh everything bagel without having to wait in an egregiously long line, though he honestly thinks he wouldn't mind standing and taking in the delicious coffee bean scents and twinkling, colored christmas lights dripping around the walls.

he approaches the table you sit daintly at with ease (he'd recognize your unapproachable and blunt aura in even the most comforting places), "hello m'lady." he slouches into the chair across from you; with your scarf wrapped perfectly around your neck and knit sweater warming you well.

your gaze doesn't leave your book as you reply, "awe, you showed up."

hamzah has both hands wrapped around his mug of coffee in hopes that his fingers recover quickly, "uh huh. and this is why i always say don't ever let an alarm clock rule your life. i hit snooze three times and my coffee's still hot." he raises his mug towards you.

you dismissively breathe a laugh and finally look at him; he's leaning back casually in the somewhat small chair, his legs spread without a care, he's wearing the same wrinkled shirt with his old high school mascot (he must've worn to bed) and nothing but a zip-up hoodie thrown over. though his hair somehow remains curled into its perfect brown swoops which you simply can't spite. you tilt your mug towards his to give them a soft clink together, making hamzah smile. "you look cold," you comment.

"'m fucking freezing. don't know what i was thinking- a fifteen minute walk feels like hell when my toes are frozen in place and the wind is ready to blow me away." he speaks through his bites of his bagel. "mm! did you finally try their coffee?" he points to you as you sip.

you look into his large doe eyes, "you know i hate coffee, hamzah-"

"see, you always say that but the coffee here is like no other!" he taps the table in excitement and you smile slightly.

"i'm glad you like it but i'll stick with my hot chocolate," you take another sip of the rich drink and finally tuck your thick book back into your bag.

༉‧₊˚.

you both agree that friends with benefits simply works best for the two of you. there's a reliability you both get from knowing you'll always have a best friend- a wingman, a supporter, a person to have movie marathons and early morning cafe talks with, the person who knows your deli order by heart. but in that friend you have someone you can makeout with when life is too frustrating to even think and your eyes can't leave their lips, someone who knows your body, someone who can go out to a bar with you and would like nothing more than to fuck you afterwards (if no successful hookups come out of the trip).

it's beautiful. it makes you believe in true friendship, honestly.

you're sat with your legs crossed and nothing but a hoodie that swallows you whole and boy-short underwear on as you squint at the flashcard in front of you with a slim red pen dangling between your lips. you try to remember the exact definition for the drawn out vocab word but your mind can't focus anymore. you've spent the past three hours studying notes, writing out flashcards, and going over endless slideshows. your brain hurts and your mouth is dry and it's all just sort of pissing you off now.

you throw the pen from your mouth and climb out of bed, the sudden movement scattering and mixing the cards that were once separated based on your knowledge into one big mess. it's times like this where you wish you were obnoxious enough with your emotions that you'd just scream and yell to get this feeling over with, but instead you walk into your bathroom to rinse your skin with water and stare at yourself for an extra second in the mirror.

you breathe in deeply when you hear an infamous ringtone coming from your bedroom (hamzah stole your phone once and created a ringtone specifically for himself involving a cover of paparazzi performed by him with adlibs of you laughing in the background). sure enough when you walk back into your room, hamzah's face lights up the screen and you accept the facetime call as you sink down onto the bed.

you're surprised he called, you know he had a badminton game tonight and went out afterwards with the team- you figured he'd be to busy to talk and would just end up texting you "im home" close to midnight like usual.

hamzah's distracted when you answer the phone, his face turned the opposite way as he laughs with wide eyes. you just stare, "hamzah."

he's quick to look down at the phone in his hand, his eyes a little puffy, "oh shit! hey." his grin is huge and you can't help but smile slightly which he notices, "a smile?! my god, you must be happy to see me or somethin'!"

"shhhh," you hush him and lay down on your bed, making yourself comfortable.

he's surrounded by blue lighting and randomly-timed white flashes, which give you a proper look at his features, all coated in the large bass of the overbearing pop music. hamzah gets close to the screen to ask, "did'you get my text?" he pulls back from the phone to quirk his eyebrow curiously.

"no, i'm studying."

"where?!" he laughs at his own joke. you quickly turn your phone in your hand to show him the mess of books, cards, and your laptop scattered next to you on the comforter. hamzah sees it all but smirks a little extra when he gets a glimpse of your soft legs curled up and your pair of light blue underwear peeking from beneath your hoodie. "right, right." he nods, "how about you look at my text now that you're here," he exclaims over the music.

you sigh, "mmmkay."

the text reads: mangomango mango plzzz

mango, being your code word for leaving events- or simply just meeting up, to ultimately have sex.

when you return to the call you have a reluctant smile, "you can come over after you're done."

he smiles and raises a thumb up in agreeance.

"don't come over drunk, please."

he kisses his teeth and rolls his eyes, "alright, girl. i'm gonna go do some karaoke and then i'm headin' your way."

"oh i'm jealous i wish i could be in the crowd."

"i know." he jokes, "byeeee." he flutters a few fingers at you.

"bye, h."

༉‧₊˚.

hamzah shows up two hours later (he got caught up in the extravagant environment; he ended up taking a couple more hits from a teammate’s bong, talking to strangers, and dancing to trashy music you’d probably hate), climbing from the rickety brass ladder onto your tiny patio (he was a mess: laughing to himself and only laughing harder when he thought of how inappropriately loud he was being for one in the morning) and opening the glass door with a key hidden inside your old watering can.

he giggles through his declaration as he throws his large coat off onto your small couch, “i’m home!” he wipes over his cold yet clammy face before calling out your name.

hamzah tucks his lip into his mouth as he walks through your dark hallway, toeing off his sneakers and pulling his shirt over his head before he even reaches your bedroom.

he finds you at your sweetest- despite your grumpy, cold attitude, you’re laying down on top of your comforter with a small smile placed on your lips. he takes a few more seconds watching your figure move with your breaths before closing the door behind him and climbing next to you in your bed.

he whines a quiet, “mmm-sorryyy” into the kiss he places at your temple before leaning away to tug a blanket over the two of you. he knows that in the morning he’ll have to properly apologize for keeping you waiting like that … preferably with his tongue.

[harrysfolklore]

ring hard launch - blurb

the content we got today just SCREAMS fiancé!harry for me so i came up with this, enjoy !

gif by @sunkissedlouis <3

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

If there was something that was definitely at the top of your list of favorite activities, was spending time with Harry.

It didn't matter if it was getting groceries, joining him for a bike ride or simply laying on the couch together, every moment that you spent together brought you contentment and joy that you couldn't find anywhere else.

And now that he was your fiancé, it was safe to say that both of you wanted to be glued to each other every single minute.

Harry proposed the morning of New Year's Eve, in the comfort of your home with both of you in your pajamas as you enjoyed homemade breakfast bagels, and it was absolutely perfect.

Ever since, you had been happier than ever, sharing the news with your family and closest friends and enjoying your engagement in private without prying eyes from paparazzi, fans and media.

"We better win tonight," Your train of thought was interrupted by Harry's voice, you were currently heading to the Luton vs Man United game, and even though you couldn't care less about football, your need to be close to him all the time made you say yes when he asked you to join him, "Thank you for tagging along, baby. I know this is not your scene so it's nice you came."

"I'm just here for the drinks and snacks," you teased, watching him roll his eyes at you, "And to enjoy the evening with my handsome fiancé, of course."

"There we go," he smiled now, grabbing your hand and placing a small kiss to the ring on your finger.

Ever since you got engaged, that had became his favorite habit, and it made your heart flutter every single time.

"It sucks that I have to take it off," you said, making him look at you with a raised eyebrow, "The ring, I mean. I have to take it off before we get out of the car, otherwise headlines will go crazy and Jeff is going to freak out."

"Mm-hmm," he paused to think, eyes darting for the road to you, "What if... you don't have to take it off?"

"What do you mean?" you said, noticing that you were about to enter the back of the stadium.

"I mean..." he grabbed your hand again, tugging the ring affectionately, "What if we let the world know about it? I talked to Jeff and the rest of the team last week, they said we could make it public whenever we felt like it, at our own terms. So why don't we do it today?"

Harry parked the car at the spot that was reserved for him and turned to look at you with a wide smile, waiting for your answer.

"Are you sure?" you smiled back at him, noticing the glow in his eyes that almost made you melt.

"Couldn't be more sure, love. Besides, the album is coming soon and everyone is going to connect the dots as soon as they listen to the first song, might as well give them an early heads up."

"Let's do it," you said, leaning over to kiss him, "I feel like everyone is going to focus on the fact that you're finally outside and with brand new hair, they won't even notice the rock on my finger."

Harry rolled his eyes again and gave you another kiss, "I swear to god, woman. You're something else."

You headed inside of the stadium to the VIP suit you were going to watch the game in, walking hand in hand with your engagement ring glistening on your finger, cameras around filming and taking pictures of both of you.

"Do you think twitter is freaking out yet?" you asked Harry as you settled on your seats.

"No idea, baby, I don't use that app," he shrugged, "Do you want anything to drink?"

"Would you get me something fruity that has alcohol that doesn't quite taste like alcohol? That's the only way I won't be bored to death."

"Sure thing." Harry laughed and kissed the side of your head before standing up to get your drink, coming back a few minutes later with exactly what you asked and a bottle of sparkling water for himself.

"So we're rooting for Man U, right?" you asked as you took a sip from your drink.

"Seven years together, months away from getting married, yet you still don't know I'm a Man U ride or die," he put a hand on his chest, "I don't think this is going to work."

"I was just teasing, drama queen," you pecked his cheek, "I know your true loves are Man U, the Green Bay Packers, peas and Fleetwood Mac."

"And you," he winked, making you roll your eyes with affection and take another sip from your drink.

A few minutes into the game, you found yourself quite invested on it, constantly asking Harry about the stuff you didn't understand and getting nervous when the other team was about to score or your team missed a goal.

"Lord, I don't want to watch," you said as a player from the opposite team was getting ready to hit a penalty, hiding your face against Harry's shoulder, "Harry! You're supposed to be watching the game, you've been staring at me for half of it now."

"Sorry, you're just too cute," he kissed the crown of your head, "You can watch now, he failed it."

"Thank god."

By the end of the game, you were both on your feet, cheering as Man United secured a win. Harry was ecstatic, and you found yourself caught up in the excitement, cheering alongside him.

While you were engulfed in your own bubble during the game, cameras has caught up on the ring of your finger, and Harry and you immediately became a world trending topic, with fans speculating whether you were actually engaged or not.

As you laid in bed scrolling through the millions of tweets about the game Harry finally emerged from the bathroom, ready to get in the covers.

"Are you reading about us?" he asked, sliding into bed beside you.

"Yeah," you replied, showing him some of the tweets, "But I don't think it was quite clear for some of your fans, some of them don't think we're really engaged."

"Well, I guess it'll be clear when the album comes out."

[defututus]

Even When I'm Not With You

Through Snow & Sleet

masterlist

modern!Eddie Munson x AFAB!reader, college AU, strangers to friends to lovers

Summary: You meet someone in one of your college classes and it's love at first sight.

content warnings: swearing, it's a very modern AU

word count: 5.6k

author's note: this is technically my first fanfic. I began writing it in April of 2024 and only got around to posting it now. This is the backbone of the AU I've maintained in my head since I fell in love with Eddie. It takes place at the university I went to, involves all my friends, and some personal experiences. Once again, thank you to my two best friends @corroded-hellfire and @munson-blurbs for encouraging me to write and helping me out when I got stuck. Hopefully you guys like it because I have more to share in the future! ❤️

The cold February air was biting at your face as you hurried across campus, slow enough to avoid the ice that no doubt sat in the dark waiting for one careless student to step on it and fall flat on their ass. The walkways were lit just enough to allow you to see where you were going but not enough to help you spot any icy spots so this was as fast as you were willing to move. What should have been a relatively easy day turned into a nightmare the moment you woke up. It had snowed overnight and the university grounds crew had neglected to salt the sidewalks once again so you nearly fell twice just trying to get from your dorm building to the dining hall next door. Once you had a decent breakfast you made your way to work and learned that there was a bad cold spreading among the employees and had claimed three of your coworkers that you expected to work with today, thus leaving you with only your team lead to help you in your department. A good chunk of your morning was spent unloading consoles set to be released soon and left you exhausted. There were a fair share of unhappy customers that you had to deal with, and it only got worse when you finally got to go on your lunch and realized you left your wallet in your room so you had to eat the day-old bagels left in the break room. Five o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.

Your university was located in the middle of a metropolitan area so you were fully aware that the rush hour traffic was bad. To avoid the inevitable panic of wondering if you could be held up in traffic and be late to class, you built your class schedule around your shifts to leave an hour and a half for you to get home when the longest it could possibly take is twenty minutes with heavy traffic. Tonight’s class, Physical Anthropology, was on the other side of campus so you also had to factor in the time it would take to walk there. Still, you would be left ample time to get home, change out of your work clothes, and even have dinner without the need to rush. You were thankful that this was the last week before spring break so at least you could relax when you weren’t working.

Your careful planning had worked perfectly up until today because you couldn’t possibly account for the accident on the highway. Everyone was trying to get home before the storm came back to make the streets undriveable, but one driver was in such a rush that they lost control and caused a small pile-up. The drivers were all alright, thankfully, but this left you sitting in traffic for over an hour and your anxiety slowly creeping up. You were close to emailing your professor to tell them you weren’t going to make it even though the university was right in front of you. By 6:15pm, you were finally moving and rushed across campus. You weren’t even going to change out of your uniform and decided to just keep on the sweater you wore under your coat. All you had to do was grab your bag right by your door and make the trek across campus. Unfortunately once you grabbed everything you needed, you were now left with 15 minutes to make the 11-minute uphill trek to your classroom, assuming there were no obstacles in your way. 

You made it inside the building and into your classroom with two minutes to spare, but in your mind you were basically late to class. You preferred to get there ten minutes early so you could choose a decent seat and get yourself situated, but by the time you were inside all the good spots were taken and the professor was already setting up for her lesson. The only seats left were in the back so you made your way over and put your stuff down at the first open spot you see. As you begin unpacking your things, the professor turns some of the lights off and puts on a video on osteology that you had been focusing on for the last two weeks. 

You were never a very social person in school, always preferring to keep to yourself and only talk when other people initiate a conversation. This class was only on your schedule because it fulfilled a requirement, nothing else. Your only friends here were within your small program and none of them were in this class with you. You didn’t know anyone's names or faces, especially not the person you just sat next to. His only acknowledgement of you was in the form of scooting a little bit so he wasn’t taking up all the space at the table you were now sharing. He was focused on whatever he was frantically writing down in his notebook, a curtain of curly brown hair concealing his face from you. However, you were able to see what he was writing in. It was a beaten up spiral notebook full of carefully organized notes with color coded tabs. There were flowcharts, sketches of what looked like maps, and character information. He also had some pages printed out that were tucked between the pages. None of those things really stuck out to you, instead your eyes were drawn to a hastily drawn creature in the corner of the left page. It was a scaled, humanoid figure with wings and horns. You could almost mistake it for a gargoyle if it weren’t for its stature and flames surrounding it. It’s something you’d recognize almost anywhere.

You whisper to the person next to you, “That pit fiend looks really good.” His pen stops mid-sentence and his head shoots up to look at you. A woodsy smell mixed with a hint of tobacco and mint wafted towards you with his movements. It was almost intoxicating.The first thing you looked at were his eyes. They were wide open with shock and they were the richest, most beautiful shade of brown you had seen in your entire life. His lips were full, a little chapped either from biting and wetting them or the cold weather sucking all the moisture out of everything. He had light freckled across his nose and a small, faded scar on his forehead. The rest of his hair that wasn’t previously obscuring his face was tied back into a bun. You both sat there in silence for a moment as he struggled to put words together. He’s wearing chunky silver rings and a worn Slipknot hoodie. You could even see the edges of a tattoo peeking out from under the collar and another of a goat skull on his left hand. 

���Oh, thanks. Um…” He looked down at the page for a second, ringed hands fidgeting with the pen he was holding before pointing towards the large flow chart, “It’s for this week’s campaign. I didn’t have a lot of time this week to plan so I’m trying to get it all done right before we meet up tonight. My friend, Jeff, his character looted these cultists…” He glances up to check and see if you’re listening and smiles when he realizes you’re actively paying attention, leaning in to get a better look at the pages. He continues with a little more confidence in his voice.

“So his character, this Triton named Kaglas, found a really old book on one of the cultists. Turns out this book was a cursed tome belonging to a demon prince and well, he cut his finger trying to pry the book open because it was being held shut with these really sharp teeth. The blood from his finger dripped onto the book and opened a portal so a prince of hell kidnapped him and now they’ll have to get past this guy to gain access to the prison… I’m just trying to finish up the encounter tables for the rest of the prison because I always leave those until the last minute.” Before he can delve further into the story, the lights come back on and papers are being handed out to each row of tables by the professor. “The goal of this lab is to identify the species of hominid based on everything you’ve learned so far. I’m not going to pull anything funny by giving you two of the same species so don’t worry about that. Each skull is numbered. Work with the other person at your table to identify the species, write the number down, and explain your reasoning. Please be careful with these.”

The papers make their way back to your way and you hand one to your new lab partner. He accepts it, mouthing ‘thank you’  and quickly scrawls Eddie on the top of the page. Good, you tell yourself. You know his name now, progress. There’s some shuffling in the back of the room as the professor goes off on some tangent. Both yours and Eddie’s attention is drawn back to the topic of his campaign. 

You began speaking to him in hushed tones, “Your friend doesn’t seem very bright. Who in their right mind would try opening a book bound shut with fucking teeth? And they got it from cultists? Are they trying to get their characters killed or are they just dumb?” Eddie stifles his laughter and shakes his head. You’re sure the professor is saying something as she moves to the back of the room but your focus is only on the man next to you. His laugh is more beautiful than any song you’ve heard before. He begins to rock his stool back and forth as he continues to speak.

“Honestly? I’m not sure. We’ve been playing together for years and I think they’re getting more and more reckless as time goes on. At this point they can recognize when I’ve set up a trap and they take it every time just for the hell of it…”  so, do you play?” 

There’s some shuffling going on in the cabinets in the back of the room as the professor begins pulling out skulls and placing one on each table. Eddie takes the skull and begins looking it over. You hear a quiet, “These are really cool.” You glance over at it and note the size of the skull overall and the lack of a brow ridge, quickly jotting those down before moving your paper closer to Eddie so he can write them down as well.

“I just started recently, it’s me and a few friends. We just saved this sweet little dwarf bookseller named Barnes when these half-elves stole his book cart with him inside it.” You watch Eddie examine the skull, running his fingers along the area where the sagittal crest should be. His rings catch the warm light of the old overhanging lights of the classroom. There was black ink on his hands, or was that oil? You couldn’t tell. His fingers were calloused and you could only guess he was also a musician. 

“Barnes, the bookseller, huh? What’s his last name, Noble?” The only response he gets is an eye roll before putting the skull down. “By the way, I think it’s a homo erectus. There’s no crest and its teeth are smaller.” You nod and Eddie hands the skull over for you to examine. You open its mouth to get a better look at the teeth and nod to him, writing ‘homo erectus’ on the paper. The skull remained in your hands and you began inspecting it out of curiosity. 

You bring the skull up to eye level and respond to Eddie with a small smirk on your face, “As a matter of fact, it is. Y’know, it’s actually a family business. His father started it and he has a bunch of brothers with the same name. They all have their own book carts in different cities. Honestly, I think they’re gonna be real successful in the future.” The story makes you laugh. The book cart wasn’t meant to be anything more than a place for your crew to gain information on the area but your insistence on “getting to know the locals” to annoy your DM, Emma, led to them creating a character that you felt attached to right away.

He rests his head in his hand and gives you a look that you can’t quite read. He has this smile on his face and this soft look in his eyes that you’ve only ever seen in romance movies when the main characters are starting to fall for each other. It wasn’t something you had the chance to experience yourself, always too nervous to ask people out yourself. Dating apps were totally out of the question because you had only heard horror stories from your friends who had tried it. You open your mouth to continue telling the story and maybe ask Eddie about his own campaigns when your professor pipes up from the front of the classroom.

“Guys, just as a reminder. These skulls are REAL and are ON LOAN TO THE UNIVERSITY and they are VERY EXPENSIVE. Please be careful with them.”

If you were being honest, you should have realized this sooner. It didn’t feel like plastic at all and had small indentations and ridges on it. This was a person. The realization nearly has you dropping the skull that once held someone's brain but thankfully, you were holding it right above the table so there was no chance of it being damaged. A laugh rang out from the seat next to you which took your attention away from what you held in your hands. He’s smiling at you. A big, toothy, beautiful smile and you wish you could look at that smile all day long. He hasn’t been in your life very long, maybe 5 minutes in total, but you were infatuated with him. Once he manages to calm himself down, Eddie slowly reaches out and takes the skull out of your hands.

“Let me take that from you. We can’t have you hurting this guy, can we?” Once the skull was out of your hands, you hang your head low in embarrassment. You feel your face growing warm and pull at the loose strings of your sweater sleeve. You bought it when you first started attending the university and it had been through the wash more times than you could and somehow created a hole in one of the sleeves. The hole was just low enough so you would stick your thumb in it and pick at it, like you were doing right now. Eddie lowers his head a bit to get a better look at you and asks, “So I guess you never realized these were real.”

You reply, face still feeling slightly flushed, “I never really thought about it, but it feels weird… I mean, that was a person,” you reply, pointing to it with your pen as you begin noting the state of its teeth and the sutures on the top of the head, “this guy had hobbies, he had a family, he lived a full life!”

Eddie interjects, turning the skull around to the back to reveal a massive crack in the middle of it. You cringe at the sight of it with Eddie bluntly replying, “I don’t think this guy had a full life. Looks to be cut pretty short to me. This is probably from an axe or some other tool.”

The rest of the class period was spent finishing the lab and learning more about each other. The two of you  talked about majoring in history and your love for classical antiquity while he told you about his band and working as a mechanic with his uncle. You also learned that your music tastes were pretty similar, you had a love for rock and metal and even complimented his hoodie (“I’m gonna be completely honest, you do not look like a Slipknot fan.” “Wow, rude.”). It felt as if you had known Eddie your entire life by the time class was drawing to a close. You two were so immersed in your conversation that you didn’t even realize you were one of the last people in the classroom. Eddie unlocked his phone to check the time,  allowing you a quick glance at his lock screen with a red guitar on it. Your musician hunch was right. He shoots up from his stool, hissing “Shit shit shit” and begins shoving his stuff into his backpack. You look at him bewildered and he says, “I’m sorry, I need to go. Our session is supposed to start in five minutes and I need to be on the other side of campus right now!” Once his bag was hastily packed and he was pulling his jacket on, Eddie looks at you one last time and gives you a sheepish smile. “I’ll see you next week, right? No, two weeks. I’ll see you in two weeks. It was great to meet you!” You don’t even get the chance to properly say goodbye before he leaves the classroom in a blur of black leather and denim. All you hear is the sounds of heavy boots running through the hallway and out the nearest side door.

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The walk from Eddie’s class to the student center Tuesday night was usually a leisurely one. He always made sure he got out the moment class ended so he would be able to fetch the keys for the multi-purpose room down in the basement and unlock it before everyone else arrived. Eddie always preferred to have everything set up so it was less likely someone could sneak a peek at his notes. He learned his lesson after he arrived a few minutes late and Grant got a peek at his screen and saw their Arakocra guide that was helping them navigate enemy territory was actually a spy for the local warlord. Eddie was a stickler for punctuality (ironic considering how he was always absent in high school) and would rag on anyone that was even five minutes late. Hellfire was meant to start at 8pm sharp and Eddie was rounding the corner in the basement, keys in hand, by 8:07.

By the time he has the key and rounds the corner to their room, he sees everyone standing outside and their heads all turn at once. He honestly found it kind of disturbing. 

“Well, well, well. Look who finally arrived,” Gareth said with his arms crossed, “we’re glad to see you could make it.” Eddie doesn’t bother trying to justify his tardiness to him and pushes through to unlock the door and set his stuff down at the end of the table. 

Everyone agreed that the drama room back in Hawkins High was definitely more comfortable than their current room and was more aesthetically pleasing. Eddie thrived when he was sitting on that throne. He would have taken it home with him if he could. However, there were some cons to that location that were rarely brought up. They had to lug extra chairs into that room every week and always had to keep their voices down. Sometimes they’d arrive and find out the space was being used for something else that week and they had to cancel the meeting. It was also located in the one part of the school that lacked air conditioning so it became unbearable once the weather started to warm up. Also, the wifi was horrible.

Eddie considered this room to be an upgrade. It wasn’t as nice as the drama room with its white painted brick walls with absolutely nothing on them and the uncomfortable chairs, but he always knew this space would be open since he reserved it for them every Tuesday night. He also appreciated the monitor hanging in front of the tables so he could display the maps and character art he did himself. Yes, they did trade in a very hot room in Hawkins for a very cold one in a basement, but everyone thought it was worth it. 

Everyone began to filter into the room and take their respective seats at the long table. There was only one seat open since one of their former players, Ronnie, had transferred to another school at the end of the fall semester so her seat was being used by Jeff. Eddie is working quickly to pull up the necessary resources and load up the map they were using last week with twisting pathways and lakes of lava. He’s filtering out all the chatter around him in order to get everything set up as quickly as possible. Jeff sits down next to him with a box of pastries from the local Dunkin Donuts. They could usually get them for free in the evening since they were about to be thrown out and Jeff was friends with one of the cashiers. 

“So… what happened to you?” 

Jeff’s question is only heard by Eddie and Doug, Hellfire’s newest member. The rest of the club were busy getting their own materials out and digging dice out of their bags. Eddie could vaguely hear Gareth complaining about losing his own set and having to use one of the sets Eddie brought because ‘Munson always has the weirdest dice, I don’t want to spend tonight staring at dice with a bunch of tiny baby heads in them’. Without looking up from his laptop, Eddie simply replies, “I had a lab and lost track of time, that’s all.”

Jeff doesn’t believe any of this. He and Eddie had been friends since they were both gangly teenagers who got detention for trying to skip gym class. Jeff knew when Eddie was lying - Eddie would always bite at his lip when he wasn’t telling the truth. It wasn’t just a lab. Something must have happened.

Jeff begins to probe Eddie with questions. He knew the only way he’d get Eddie to confess to whatever was going on was by guessing until he got a reaction out of him.

 “A lab, interesting… So you weren’t able to finish it in time and that made you late?” Eddie says nothing. 

“Did you drop something and get in trouble?” Someone else almost did, but not him. No reaction. 

“Did you eat something and get in trouble?” Eddie reaches over to the box of pastries and grabs a boston creme donut.

“Did you meet someone? You found your soulmate?” Eddie pauses as he’s sitting back down in his chair. Bingo. Jeff is shocked. Throughout all the years he had known Eddie, the man was never known to believe in love. There was a girl he met when he was 18 but that never worked out so Eddie assumed he’d live the life of a bachelor. He grew up with parents who hated each other and always seemed to be fighting so he never knew what a healthy relationship looked like. Whenever someone asked about his love life he would brush them off and say it just wasn’t for him. He said it so much that everyone couldn’t help but believe him. 

“Oh my god, Eddie Munson is in love.” Jeff says this slowly with a shit-eating grin on his face. He also said this loud enough that everyone else in the room could hear him so all the conversations being held ended at once in favor of learning about this mystery person in Eddie’s life.

“You’re WHAT?” 

“I didn’t know you were capable of that.”

“What are they like? What’s their name?”

The group questioning turned into an interrogation that yielded no results. Everyone only stopped once Eddie had finally located the music he needed and drowned their questions out with the sounds of a haunting violin, creaking, and muffled screams.

“Ok, so where were we? Uh, Tayr,” Eddie looks up at Jeff and points his pen at him, “you’re still imprisoned deep underground. You had 7 hit points when we last left off and you said you were planning to break both your ankles to get out of your shackles so I’m holding you to that.” Eddie then turns to Grant and Gareth who are looking annoyed that their friend is ignoring them, but he persists. He has a campaign to run. “Hylbaez, I believe you and Ariver were going to attempt horse stacking to get up to that open window. I don’t know how the two of you plan on doing that without your horses and how you’re gonna reach the 7th floor even if you had your horses with you. You’ve had a week to figure that out.” He looks over his notes one last time before looking up at the group. Nobody appears to be ready to play. No pencils in hand, only a few papers out. Hellfire won’t start until they get what they want. Eddie was really hoping they’d all drop the group questioning but that doesn’t seem like it’s happening anytime soon. With a huff, Eddie rubs his face and gives them all a look of resignation. “Okay, fine. You want to know? There was a girl that sat next to me. She complimented some character art that I’ve been working on and we talked about D&D for a while. I’m gonna try to get her number after spring break. THAT’S IT.”

It’s almost like everyone’s ears perked up when they heard him mention Dungeons & Dragons. Doug puts a hand up as if he’s in class and asks the question that everyone is thinking. “Are you going to invite her to join Hellfire?” It’s a question that Eddie had been asking himself on the hurried walk from class to the student center. Sure, the campaign they were playing had already begun but he could find a way to write you in. He knew he was a good storyteller so it would be a great way to impress you. Sure, he’s no Matthew Mercer or Brennan Lee Mulligan, but he never struggled to keep everyone’s attention and he’s proud of the stories he created. 

“I’ll think about it.”

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It had begun raining by the time their session was concluded (the student center was closing) and the shuttles weren’t running tonight so Eddie had to make the mile trek on foot. He didn’t even care that the elevator was broken again. He’ll, he wouldn’t care if it was broken for the rest of the year because he’s pretty sure he found the love of his life today and nothing could dampen his mood. He rushed up the four flights of stairs and fumbled with his keys before coming inside and slamming the front door shut behind him. His backpack was thrown onto the floor with a wet fwump and his bomber jacket followed close behind as he hastily shucked it off him.

Eddie had a routine he usually followed after each Hellfire Club meeting. He would always change into his pajamas, heat up the food he had brought back from the dining halls and make that his dinner, and retreat into his room where he’d go over what happened during their session and tweak his plans for their next meeting if necessary. He did this every week for the past three years he’s been DMing at this school and the only time he ever broke this routine was during finals his freshman year where he was convinced he’d fail if he didn’t dedicate all his time to actually studying. This was the second time he would ever break that routine. Instead of making himself comfortable, he stormed down through their small living space and walked past his own room to barge into the other bedroom.

This was the second year that Steve roomed with Eddie and the first year that they got their own rooms. Since they were so used to sharing a room together, it was second nature for Eddie to rush straight to Steve when he had to tell him something. Thankfully for him, Steve never locked his door so Eddie was able to rush in unannounced and blurted out, “You will NOT believe what happened today!”

Steve was sitting at his desk, still dressed in his red school scrubs from his clinicals earlier in the day with his nose buried in his textbooks. His hair was tied back in a small ponytail, wearing his glasses, and headphones over his ears. When Eddie forced his way into the room, Steve nearly jumped out of his seat and ripped his headphones off his head and was glaring daggers at the other man.

“Do you ever learn to knock?” Eddie ignores the comment from Steve and goes to the other side of the small bedroom to sit down on Steve’s bed, still wearing his damp clothes and definitely tracking mud across the apartment. Steve is only angry for a moment until he sees the giant smile on his friends face. Eddie wasn’t exactly a grumpy person, but Steve hadn’t seen him smiling like that in a long time, probably not since Eddie got Metallica tickets from his Uncle Wayne as a graduation present. He was smiling so much that Steve was sure his face actually hurt. Eddie was beaming just like he was all those years ago.

Eddie’s leg began shaking from excitement as he began speaking, “I think I met my soulmate today. I was in my anthropology class and she sat down next to me and she’s perfect. I mean, first of all, she’s beautiful. She plays Dungeons and Dragons and we like the same music and she’s so fucking funny.” The metalhead then gets up from Steve’s bed and takes the few steps it takes to stand right in front of him. He’s wildly waving his hands around as he recalls everything that you two talked about during that lab. Steve swore Eddie didn’t stop to breathe even once during this entire recollection. As the story starts to wind down, Eddie removed his hair tie from his hair and ran his fingers through his dark locks. He sighs and says, “Honestly man, I didn’t think after Paige that I’d find anyone who I really connected with but she’s different. I don’t feel like I need to hold back when I’m talking to her.” Eddie finally stops talking and takes a breath before moving back to Steve’s bed and flopping down to lay on his sheets, wet hair and all. 

Steve fully turns around to face Eddie with an impressed look on his face as he closes his books, asking the other, “I’m happy for you, man. So what’s her name? Did you get her number?” Eddie hears this and his eyes widen, opting to look up at the ceiling rather than Steve. He realizes his horrible, horrible mistake and is kicking himself for hurrying off rather than taking an extra minute to get your name and contact information. His silence prompts Steve to scoot closer in his chair as his tone turns more serious. “Eddie, did you get her number?” Silence. “Her instagram?” Silence. “Snapchat??” Eddie purses his lips, too ashamed to say anything. “Munson, did you get ANYTHING from her??”

Eddie groans and sits up now, rubbing his face and tries to defend himself. “Listen. I was going to be late to Hellfire and I didn’t want to listen to anyone complaining about being late so I just told her I’d see her after spring break. I wasn’t thinking straight! I swear I’ll get her number the moment I see her in two weeks.”

It’s now Steve’s turn to groan and he shakes his head, getting up from his chair and moving to sit next to Eddie and begins to try to reassure his friend, telling him, “Ok, here’s what we’re gonna do. There’s like a missing connections instagram page for the school. You just need to message them and tell them you want to find her and get her contact information. Maybe she’ll see it.”

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You spent the rest of the week hopelessly searching for Eddie in the massive crowds of students. There were a couple instances of spotting a head of curly brown hair only to be disappointed when you realize it’s not him. There’s about 40,000 students in this school so you wonder why you figured you could just find him casually walking around campus. Your roommate, Elena, suggested looking at your school portal page to see if you can find him on your class page but your professor didn’t enable the ‘Students’ section, only opting for pages that were vital in completing coursework. One of your friends spent two hours scouring Instagram and Facebook convinced that they could find Eddie but came up empty handed. You told everyone you knew what he looked like and what his name was, but he wasn’t in anyone’s classes or in anyone’s dorms. It was like he just vanished into thin air. Elena reassured you that you’d see him in two weeks so all you had to do was wait.

Your search was paused during spring break and put on an indefinite hold when things went downhill. People all over the world were getting sick and you watched in horror as the virus slowly creeped closer to your home state. Then into your county. Spring break was extended for an extra week as the school administration worked to find a solution to keep the staff and student body safe. Schools around the country were shuttering their campuses while yours promised in-person classes would resume shortly but they soon changed their mind. You received an email by week three stating the remainder of the semester would be spent online and you needed to pack up your dorm room. The administration was unable to confirm if you’d be returning to campus in the fall. At this point, both you and Eddie came to the conclusion that you’d never see the other person again and it would take a miracle for you two to reunite.

————————————————————————

I’m not sorry

[messyemmy]

How would y/n be around a very soft and shy Harry?

"SOFTBOY HARRY STYLES DRABBLE/BLURB"

(... So I fucked up, got carried away... H turned from very soft to sometimes soft-mostly shy, slutty boy. I apologise for my filthy brain!)

Other Writing

🍭

Ooh, an opportunity for the energetic, boisterous Y/n to tease and dote on him?? 

How could she turn that opportunity down?

Especially since this handsome and aloof specimen- all wrapped up in soft curls and a new knitted jumper each day- is the most interesting thing to happen at their workplace for god knows how long. 

Shy Harry who Y/n finds just so very cute- whenever she catches his gaze, always doe-eyed and seemingly caught by surprise, whenever any attention is sent his way, and a strong rosy blush creeps across his sweetheart face- she thinks he is simply adorable! 

Her coworkers are just as intrigued as she- fascinated with the new data analyst and his standoffish demeanour. He keeps to himself, mumbling greetings and questions with a shortness that leaves most wondering who the hell his deal is. 

Especially when he always declines invitations for lunch and drinks after hours, even after almost six months of employment, he seems to be as curt as day one. 

So, naturally, it becomes Y/n’s mission to win over his affections… and with the knowledge of his favourite bagels and preferred coffee, it’s not hard to soften him when she delivers them so casually to his desk each morning. 

Well, ‘soften’ means that he no longer jumps when she sweetly sings, “Mornin’ Harry!” and now, he even smiles timidly and thanks her. 

So she starts to add in little quips, jokes about the weather, and Pete, the worst secretary of all time.

Then it turns to offhand compliments, "those glasses really frame your face", "you have such nice handwriting!", "Where'd you get such pretty eyelashes, huh?" Anything to get his juicy cheeks to swell with basfulness.

Harry’s unsure of what to do in these situations- no matter how many nights he’s thought over how and what he could do in response, every single time Y/n greets him- her eyes as bright as her personality- he feels the words slip from his tongue, too busy revelling in her crooked smile. 

There’s gotta be some way for Harry to show his appreciation for her gestures… he has ideas of simply buying her favourite coffee, or perhaps asking how her day’s going… and he has ideas of grandeur, gently squishing her chubby cheeks between his palms and planting the most grateful of kisses on her always-glossy lips… or getting on his knees for her, saying thank you like the goodest of boys. 

It’s only late into the end-of-year corporate party when Harry is a glass and a half down the finest whisky that’s ever graced his tongue- and Y/n is over there by the fireplace, the back of her legs bare, facing the fireplace, greatly engrossed in a conversation with a colleague- that he finally finds himself in her hold.

Maybe it’s the fact that they’re no longer in a ‘work’ environment, or perhaps it has to do with that sparkling silver draped so perfectly across her curves… What ultimately encourages Harry to make his move is the anything-but-subtle glances- even winks- she keeps sending his way. 

He finds himself unable to stop the gravitational pull that lures him straight into her arms, which are quickly slung across his shoulders. 

Once he has her slotted between himself and a wall, she’s too receptive for his shyness to regain control, pressing such sweet, sloppy kisses along his clavicle, up his neck, behind his ear- a quick flick of the tongue to his lobe. 

He’s a shuddering mess, but he can’t feel an ounce of shame as her skin so easily goosebumps under the strokes of his wandering hands. 

Her little sighs and near-moans are like a melody, it has Harry forgetting about anything and everything outside of the feel of her leg hooked to his thigh, the tantalising tugs and scratches her nails leave at the nape of his neck. 

What Harry is most grateful for is her lack of questions. She doesn’t bring up their ‘awkward’ encounters, too fixated on the excitement of his sudden surety to mock his switch in demeanour.

So, even when the drive back to her apartment is rather quiet, the scalding pressure of her soft palm in his own is surety enough. 

 It’s like she knew without words and soothes his racing thoughts to a silence that leaves him rushing with arousal and endearment. 

And then, oh boy. 

Nobody said Harry was shy in the bedroom. 

The opposite couldn't be more true. He’s a chatty little thing- while he slowly unzips and strips her of her dress, in between hasty kisses, praising her each time a new part of her stands exposed to him. 

Y/n revels in the way his eyes are devoid of their usual doubt, oozing dark desire at the mere sight of her- the only thing he questions is where to start- where to lick and nip and squeeze at first. 

Y/n underestimated this- but she shouldn't be surprised by his eager and ambitious desire to please. To do a good job- the best job. 

He has her everywhere- bent over, back arched, his hand curled in her hair; his expansive palms squeezing her hips as she bounces above him; her thighs clamped around his head; fisting the sheets and suffocating him with both her thighs her moans. 

And he’s all, “You’re such a good girl”, “Taking me so well, “Like it when I make you squirm, sweetheart?” 

So, naturally, Y’n’s all, “Please please please please”. 

In the break of day, waking up to the gentle rays of sun, the faint snores of Y/n snuggled against him, all of that anxiety comes rushing back to Harry and he’s close to exploding with embarrassment, thoughts spiralling of what a huge mess he’s just made. 

But Y/n unknowingly soothes him- moments away from a panic attack- with the promise of freshly brewed coffee and brekkie. She only comments on his verbal enthusiasm once, simply stating that she liked his voice. 

Back at work on Monday, Harry can’t help himself from slipping back into his comfortably isolated bubble. 

It’s not like the world changed- even if the only thing he can truly be certain about is how much he’s come to like Y/n, and how badly he wants to spend more time with her- to let her listen to him ramble on… about anything and everything. He’s sure she’d listen… maybe even enjoy what he has to say.

When he greets her the same as every day before, it leaves a little sting in her heart, and for the first time, she feels doubtful about how Harry sees her. 

Y/n is elated with the new developments between her and Harry- she likes that he trusts her enough to break his vow of silence, even if it did take some coaxing. But she’d be silly to think he would suddenly do a 180 and turn into a chatterbox. 

During lunch, when Y/n finds herself frustratedly fighting a fruit juice bottle for access, her mind is a mess of questions upon questions. 

But just as she never left Harry to feel insecure for long, he does the same for her as he quietly slinks behind her, reaching out for his own OJ, his upper body bowing so his strawberry lips press to the shell of her ear, cool and minty breath fanning her features as he mutters lowly, “Been thinking about you. A lot.” 

And then he’s gone and she’s a fireball of relief and thick desire. 

This becomes his new thing; Soft and shy Harry catching Y/n alone whenever the chance permits, whispering filthy, tantalising, sweet nothings for only her to hear- sometimes letting his fingers sweep the curves of her jaw, or her lower back, once he even risks a kiss to the corner of her lips- which are always parted in surprise around Harry. 

And now, Y/n's the blushing mess… it’s only fair. 

🍭

(You can send me more requests/suggestions for how Y/n and *insert trope* Harry would interact! -Emmy 💞).

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

“cream cheese” - mid meeting, Hotch crosses a line you didn’t think he would

Hotchner x gn!reader, 500 words

I’m trying blurbs! Drabbles, whatever you’d like to call them. Lmk if you like it ok love you bye

——————————

You’re sitting beside Hotch at the round table. The conference room is usually where you start the day, and today is no different - except for the fact that Penelope, bless her heart, brought everyone bagels.

It doesn’t even matter that there’s a grisly photo of a murder victim on the TV in front of you.

Compartmentalization is key when working for the BAU, so you just avoid looking at it and instead chomp down - an Asiago bagel with chive cream cheese? You eat it like a sandwich, the massive amount of cream cheese you put on it spilling out the sides.

“You’re gonna need to brush your teeth after that,” Derek said when you assembled your bagel. You just playfully flipped him off and carried on, earning a chuckle from Hotch - Aaron, he insists you call him.

Being your boss’s significant other does not have the perks that the movies say it would. He does not show you special treatment on a daily basis, nor does he pull you off to the side for spontaneous interludes in the middle of the day. Hotch is very black and white. He likes rules. He likes sticking to those rules.

And you love him for it.

“What’s the geographical distance between the first two victims?” You ask as you glance down at your paperwork.

Spencer spouts off the answer like he memorized it on a flash card the night before, and you quietly thank him. You open your mouth to ask another question, but the feeling of a thumb swiping across your upper lip stops you from speaking.

You freeze, looking up slowly and turning your head to the culprit. Aaron’s thumb catches a chunk of cream cheese, and he wipes it off onto a nearby napkin. You’re completely flabbergasted by this, for the very straightforward reason that Aaron does not touch you at work. He doesn’t even let you rest your head on his shoulder on the jet.

Your eyes meet Aaron’s and your cheeks turn immediately red. “You were about to lose it,” Aaron explains softly. He seems to be shocked by his own actions. You can tell by the way his eyes soften. He doesn’t blush, though, and you kind of hate him for it.

Your gaze darts to the rest of the team.

Spencer is totally oblivious to what has happened, but Derek leans back in his chair with a smirk in his face, Emily and JJ are grinning at each other, and Penelope is very clearly stifling a giggle.

Rossi is the one who breaks the awkward silence. “Twenty miles between victims one and two, that’s fascinating,” he proposes.

Aaron clears his throat and looks at you briefly. It’s a fleeting expression, but you will forever have it ingrained in your brain - his lips curled in the smallest smirk, a twinkle in those dark brown eyes. As he turns in his chair to scoot closer to the table, you feel the tips of his fingers just barely graze your thigh.

“Right, let’s debrief more on the jet,” he suggests, stacking his folders efficiently and rising from his desk chair. “Wheel’s up in 30.”

[pedriache]

OKAY. SHORT MARC GUIU BLURB WHERE okay, where when him and reader kiss, he always presses his fingertips under her shirt and like, rubs circles on a small area of bare skin, the first time he did it, she’s like ??? oh wow hello, but when she notices he does it all the time, she slowly begins to grow accustomed to it! I love you and your writing Lmk. Xx

Kiss me — Marc Guiu.

Pairing: Marc Guiu x Fem!Reader

Summary: Marc had a habit of rubbing circles on your hips every time you kissed, but over, you’ve grown accustomed to it. And dare you say, loved it?

Word count: 308

Disclaimer/s: kissing + fluff !

A/N: draft from like july idk

The smell of chocolate chip bagels wafted throughout your apartment. You’d been baking all day while your boyfriend was out with his friends, and the aroma had taken over the whole apartment by now, not just the kitchen.

The clicking sound that came with the door open, had a smile growing on your lips. “I’m in here!” You announce loudly, and he follows your voice into the kitchen.

Marc grins, “how long have you been doing this for?” He motions toward the pans with uncooked dough on them, waiting for you to put them in the oven.

Shrugging, you feel your boyfriend pull you toward him, his hands swiftly turning you around to face him. “All day.” You chuckle, “how was your day out?”

The brunette shrugs, eyes flickering to your lips. “Fun. How was yours?”

“Almost perfect.” You smile, pressing yourself closer to him.

“Almost?” Marc quirks an eyebrow, “how can I make that a definitive perfect?” He knew what you were waiting for, he simply wanted you to say it.

Rolling your eyes, your head tilts back. “Don’t make me say it.” But, after Marc stays silent, you give in. “Fine, a kiss perhaps. From my annoying boyfriend.”

Marc laughs before his lips collide with yours. It’s a long, love filled kiss, one that had your mind flooding with a haze. Marc’s fingertips press into the exposed skin on your hips, rubbing slow circles into it.

Humming into the kiss, you mumble, “now it’s perfect.”

Your boyfriend pulls away, only a few centimeters though, his breath still fans against your lips. “Are any of the bagels done?” He asks in a hushed whisper.

You gasp, “oh! Yes!” Pulling away from his grasp, you rush toward the oven, grabbing your oven mitts in the process. “six! Have as many as you want. I made like, a dozen.”

Likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. Let me know if you want tagged in any of my posts <3

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !