#but i like how im so self aware of my own ups and downs it kinda feels like a method to the madness

[theokusgallery]

I hate that I have reoccurring themes in everything I make. YES this guy has a complex over the fact that everyone prefers his sibling AGAIN. YES he was ostracized by his peers since he was in primary school and never knew why until years later. URGH

[futurewife]

.

every month i lose my sex drive (with my cycle) then it comes back and it surprises me everytime. i go from #fucksex #desireless to wait i need my hole pounded. i need a man sweating and groaning on me disgustingly with his entire body weight. urgently!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[kitten4sannie]

dolce and gabbana

pairing: san x guest! reader (fem)

genre: pure smut with a tiddlywink of plot

summary: san can’t seem to get you off his mind after sitting next to you during the latest D&G showcase, so he has no choice but to get you on his dick instead.

w.c: 3.3k

warnings: some alcohol use, subby until he’s not! san, dommy mommy who folds instantly when san asserts himself! reader, both reader and san mutually go after one another despite knowing one of them is MARRIED (hoes will be hoes what can i say <3), reader’s husband is a dick ofc, misogyny (from said husband), cheating, seduction, exhibitionism, mommy/daddy kink….. (i’m weak okay,,), teasing, ITS BIG BTW AND CURVED……, only praise and pet names (omg who hacked k4s???), groping, fingering, kissing, dry humping on a couch in a very crowded room, one neck bite, san cums untouched, oral (receiving), squirting, one singular pussy slap, san puts reader into a mating press on her husband’s side of the bed just for funsies, manhandling, size kink, breeding kink, creampies (sannie cums a lotttt)

a/n: as a pudding since day 1 i am in absolute shambles thanks for asking <3 and YES im very aware i posted yesterday but the fic demons cannot be silenced!!! and just fyi i’m sure san was very grateful and absolutely brimming with excitement to be at the show!! the way i wrote him here does not reflect his actual feelings towards anything,, its just a silly fic and i wrote what i wanted lol. also i wish i could tell you how many times “dolce and gabbana that’s on my titties~” played in my head while i typed this out 😭😭 (also i did not proofread this whatsoever so forgive me if there are errors) but anyways, i hope you enjoy :33

song recs: la romana by bad bunny, rover by kai, planet goddamn by mac miller

San knew eyes would be on him. Why wouldn’t they be? He was dressed to the nines, his hair slicked back to showcase his alluring, feline-like eyes, his sharp, angular features that could give someone a fatal cut if they looked for too long, and most importantly, he was all decked out in a sleek black custom-made top that perfectly adorned his broad shoulders and chest, one that even cinched securely around his impossibly tiny waist. Of course it did. It had been custom fit and made just for his body. Even the tailor had jokingly mentioned that Michelangelo himself must’ve sculpted him to perfection in the heavens before San was born, but San wasn’t laughing. He perfected his body through his own sheer willpower and determination alone, to be the best that he could be for his own self — and if people just so happened to drool over the results of his hard work, then that was simply a perk.

Holding his hand up to shield his eyes from the many camera flashes, he continued to make his way down the walkway, offering many of the starstruck guests a courteous, though charming smile, wondering if their wandering gazes were due to his breathtaking ensemble or what was sitting just below it. The thought tickled him. It continued to amuse him throughout the afternoon, taking picture after picture with eager guests and wealthy tycoons alike, quite pleased with himself when neither man nor woman could seem to control themselves around him, their eyes always drifting downwards to look San up and down like he were next up in an auction, their mouths pressed to their champagne flutes in an effort to quell the thirst they felt, their free hands lingering just a little too long on the small of his back when they bid farewell to him.

San relished the fact that these poor starving individuals could never get a taste of him, no matter how incredibly rich or influential they were. None of them would get a bite of the forbidden fruit without permission from God.

It was then that the show started, various eye-catching models sashaying their way across the aisle to showcase the latest D&G collection, all displaying their own unique set of features and charm. All flawless and angelic in their own right, but they were almost predictable in that way — like mannequins made solely for the rich and beautiful to gawk at. San couldn’t help but look past them, only focusing on the expensive, tailor made clothes that were framing their perfect bodies. And after a while, he almost seemed to grow bored. Of what, exactly? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the sheer gaudiness of it all, the lack of self awareness for things that really mattered in the modern world, and the almost nauseating amount of self-sucking the rich individuals around him seemed to be fond of doing. San would’ve pondered it more when somebody near him gently patted his thigh, causing him to look down at the small manicured hand, the diamond ring around your finger glinting in the light like a warning sign.

“Are you bored like I am?” you whispered softly into his ear from beside him, giving him a quaint smile when he turned his head to face you.

San blushed, leaning slightly in your direction. “Am I that obvious?”

“No, don’t worry. None of these drones will be able to notice.” You motioned your head to the crowd around you, their phones in hand, all whispering to each other about how revolutionary the new collection was, despite it looking eerily similar to the fall one from the year before. “You could whip your cock out and no one would bat an eye.”

“Oh?” San studied your flirtatious smile, then looked down just to make sure his eyes hadn’t deceived him. Yep, the ring was still there — and it probably cost more than a starter house. Delighted by your forwardness, San took it upon himself to tease you, reaching down to slowly unbutton his slim-fitted pants. “Well, if that’s the case…”

Your cheeks turning bright red, you reached downwards to shield his crotch from view, looking up at him with wide eyes, your faces now impossibly close. “I-i was fucking with you! Don’t actually take out your dick…”

San’s sharpened eyes flitted from your gaze to your cherry red lips, letting go of his zipper to gently take your hand in his, pressing it firmly down onto his thigh. “Yet…?” he challenged huskily, wondering if you were like all the others and would yank your hand back, scoff in disgust, and pretend as if it had never happened. It was then that San felt you squeeze your warm hand into the meat of his thigh, your fingers just barely pressing into the inseam of his pants.

“You can be a good boy and wait till the after party, can’t you?” you asked in a lower, sultrier tone, pressing your lips to his cheek to leave your mark on him, your hand moving further up his thigh, only pulling away when you felt something hard press into your palm. Smiling sweetly, you leaned in again, this time allowing your lips to brush over his. “Good things come to those who wait.”

And just like that, you turned forward to focus on the models all gathering onto the stage at once along with the designers, clapping along with the rest of the crowd when they all took a bow. You blew a kiss to one of the designers who caught it and pretended to put it in his pocket.

Still breathless from your short encounter, San nudged your thigh with his own, biting into his lip and tasting the sweetness of your lipstick. You nudged him back, glancing at him through the corner of yours eyes, licking at your own lips, like a predator would before pouncing on their prey.

San couldn’t believe he had finally met someone like you. There was a serpent in his garden — and he couldn’t wait for it to swallow him up.

-

The after party was predictable as always — strangers binge drinking and snorting powder off of your previously pristine marble tabletops, others telling embellished stories about their latest trip to their private islands to various locked-in acquaintances, some off doing god knows what in your many empty guest rooms, and you could not, for the life of you, care about what your husband was currently cackling over with his close friends, focusing on the crackling wood sitting inside the fireplace you were all huddled near. When you inevitably ran out of champagne, you patted your husband’s leg so that he could remove his arm from your waist.

He looked down at you with indifference. “What is it?”

“I need more champagne, honey. I’m going to get some.”

Your husband’s face scrunched up. “Haven’t you had enough? If you drink anymore, you’re going to lose your nice figure.” He looked to his friends for validation who simply nodded along in agreement.

Your husband’s chauvinistic comments didn’t bother you anymore, just his persistent presence in your life. He was like a mosquito that was always trying to drain you, one that you could never seem to swat away. Well, nothing a little dick couldn’t fix. “That’s funny, because I seem to recall the tailor coming in this morning for an emergency visit to alter a certain suit,” you mentioned, this time pushing your husband’s arm away from you, surveying his now quiet friends with an unbothered look, before wandering off, not registering the insecurity driven ramblings that your husband was sending your way.

Once you made your way into the crowded loft, you searched your surroundings for what you were looking for, humming at the sight of the pretty boy from earlier sitting on the large plush couch in the corner, a half-empty champagne flute in hand, his attention on one of the models that had walked for your husband’s collection a few hours earlier. He was even more handsome now that you could study his captivating details, your eyes drifting over his bulky frame, from his large arms and shoulders, to his delicate waist, and down to his spread thighs, zeroing in on what was between them, knowing that the beautiful stranger was blessed in more ways than one based off what you had felt earlier.

Without hesitation, you slowly made your way across the room, your stiletto heels digging into the fur carpet below with each concentrated step, licking your red lips when the model placed one of her hands on San’s thighs and squeezed it, his suddenly submissive expression causing more knots to form within your core. You were going to make him yours.

San could barely hear the pretty model’s words over the loud music and the many overlapping voices inside the loft, not knowing what to say when she moved closer to him, clearly going in for the kill. It was then that someone stood over him, their heel nudging into his loafer. He looked up, his once hazy eyes opening wide at the sight of you standing above him with a bottle of champagne in one hand, your other hand already cradling his face. “M-miss…there you are…”

“Here I am,” you purred, running your fingers along his jaw, satisfied with the fact that your lipstick print was still visible on his tan skin.

San gulped, just about spilling the drink he was still holding onto, unknowingly spreading his thighs open further, as if he was giving you an unspoken invitation to climb onto his lap.

Humming, you lowered yourself into his lap, your plush thighs and ass pressing snuggly against his lower half. “Look at you,” you cooed softly into San’s ear, not caring to give the now fuming model any attention, lowering the cold champagne bottle in between your bodies, chuckling at the soft whimper he let out when it pressed into the exposed sections of his skin. “You’re such a good boy, saving a seat for Mommy like this. Aren’t you, baby?”

“Y-yes, I am, s-so good for you…”

“Then, be good and open your mouth,” you purred, lifting the almost empty bottle and pouring some into your mouth. San’s jaw slowly dropped, not knowing that he was already beginning to drool. You didn’t mind, clutching the sides of his heated face and pressing your parted lips onto his, transferring the sparkling alcohol to him, but not without running your tongue over his.

San brought his hands up near the sides of your ass, his fingers trembling, not knowing if he was allowed to touch you, whimpering into your mouth when you sucked the alcohol off of his tongue.

“You can touch, baby.” You reached for his wrists and brought his hands underneath the hem of your short dress, gasping when he squeezed the softness of your ass in between his ringed fingers and began to slowly guide your hips, your clothed cunt rubbing back and forth over his stiffening cock. “Mm, someone’s eager, hm? You’re a naughty one, making the main designer’s wife grind on your cock like this in front of everyone.”

“It’s…Mommy’s fault…” San murmured near your ear, rolling his own hips up into yours, making you feel every inch of his trapped throbbing cock each time he ground himself into you, biting into his lip at the sound of your breathless moans, swearing he saw your grimacing husband from over your shoulder.

“My fault, huh? Mommy should make up for it, shouldn’t she?” you sighed back onto his heated skin, pressing kiss after kiss onto his collarbones, dragging your tongue along the constellation of freckles he had on his neck, making him shudder underneath you.

“Uh-huh…” San moaned out, your hand suddenly squeezing into and sliding back and forth over his erection, your thumb repeatedly rubbing over the pronounced tip, knowing he was staining his expensive pants with sticky pre-cum. “F-fuck, I’ll cum if you keep doing that…”

“So sensitive, baby, you’re so cute…but you’re not the only one, you know? Look what you did to Mommy~” You gave his balls a gentle squeeze just to hear him whimper, before letting go, instead reaching for his hand again and leading it between your legs, moving your soaked panties to the side just in time for San to fill you up with two thick fingers.

“You’re so wet…” San groaned, unable to keep himself from adding another digit inside your slick hole, beginning to pump them in and out of you, allowing the both of you to listen to the obscene squelching sounds your cunt made each time he finger-fucked you. Something switched inside of San when you began to whine and whimper, and fuck yourself back on his fingers, your eyebrows screwed upwards, begging him for more with your teary, half-closed eyes. “So fucking wet just for me, huh? Hey, Miss, did you know your husband is standing just across the room? Think he’s hard knowing I just got his pretty little wife wetter than she’s been in her entire life?”

“B-baby, don’t tease me like that,” you whispered, not wanting the control you had over him to slip out of your grasp, grabbing onto his shoulders, accidentally causing pieces of his solid outfit to fall off and land onto the leather couch.

“It’s San, Miss, but you can call me Sannie if you wanna be a good girl for me,” he chuckled, shoving his fingers into you up to the knuckles, rolling your clit around underneath his heavy thumb. “And, I’m not teasing you, my love, he’s really watching us, and he looks like he wants to kill me.”

Just as you looked behind you to catch your husband’s displeased gaze, San began to ram his soaked digits into your spasming cunt, feeling his lips, tongue, and teeth on your neck. “O-oh my god, Sannie, oh, fuckkkk…”

Just as your warm arousal began to pour out onto his fingers and lap, San bit down into the area where your neck and collarbone connected, letting out a few stunted groans, his hips jolting up into yours, coating the insides of his designer pants with white.

“Did you just…?” you began, before San stuffed his fingers into your mouth, growing quiet and sucking your arousal off of them. He pulled them out with a pop, but you didn’t even get the chance to continue your question because you were suddenly being lifted up into the air, strong hands clutching your thighs, your legs hooked around San’s waist.

Your defeated, emasculated husband was just a blur when San carried you through the crowded room and up the stairs, not stopping until he got to the largest room at the end of the expansive hallway.

“Which side does your husband sleep on?” San asked, once he stood at the foot of the kingsized bed.

“On the right. Why do you–O-oh,” you gasped as he quickly laid you out on the right side of the bed and lifted your dress up, forcefully spreading your thighs open so that he could bury his face in your cunt, repeatedly lapping at your slit and clit over your soaked panties until he couldn’t take it, reaching up to tear your panties off with ease. “Sannie, baby boy, what’s gotten into you?”

San looked up at you with dark, dilated eyes, reaching up to his broad body to rip off the rest of his outfit, his solid muscles flexing as he closed his fingers around your waist, yanking you lower so that your cunt was closer to his face, looking like he was about to eat you alive. “Daddy’s hungry,” he simply replied, diving back into your cunt to lick and slurp up your juices, tonguing your hole just to feel you clench around him, his nose nudging your clit as he ate you out like a starved man.

Sooner or later, you began to shudder and pant, tugging at the ends of San’s sweaty hair, your thighs pressing into the sides of his head until he forcefully held them down, quickly moving his head up and down as he dragged his tongue roughly over your throbbing clit, his focused eyes never leaving yours. “S-sannie, I’m really, fuck– I’m gonna cum…!”

“Cum for Daddy,” he demanded gruffly, stuffing three fingers into your cunt and pounding them into your g-spot, lifting your ass up with his other hand so that he could catch the stream of arousal that suddenly squirted out of you, some of it inevitably soaking into the satin sheets below you. San licked your juices from his lips, going down to give your puffy cunt one last lick to savor your taste, before standing up from the bed and unbuckling his pants.

“Y-you….Did you get possessed by a demon?” you asked half-jokingly, unable to keep your thighs from trembling, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your wrist.

“And if I did? You’d still let me fuck you, wouldn’t you?” San smiled devilishly, his dimples appearing, kicking off his pants and running his closed hand along his curved, dripping length. He pressed his thighs against the side of the bed, running the tip of his cock over your lips, watching fondly as you sucked and licked the beads of pre-cum that leaked from the slit.

“I would.” Lifting yourself up so that you could completely rid yourself of your disheveled dress, you reached up for the handsome stranger, licking the saltiness from your lips. “Now, come here and show Mommy just how much Daddy wants her.”

San wasted no time climbing back onto the bed and folding you up into a mating press, leaning back to send a few wads of spit onto your cunt, smacking his hand against the wetness for good measure, before he plunged himself deep inside you.

You just about screamed, not ready for San’s unusual size and shape, the curve of his cock rubbing deliciously along your tightening walls each time he pounded himself into you. “S–ann–ie…! It’s so big, fuck– so good!”

“Aww, poor baby’s never had a big cock stretching out her pretty pussy before, huh?” San cooed into your ear, pulling all the way out, just to slam himself back in, hitting your g-spot dead on, making you cry out deliriously. “You’ll never be able to go back to your husband after this. You’re gonna be begging for me to take care of you from now on….” San pressed his lips against yours, sucking on your tongue as you moaned out for him. “Want you to cum for me again, baby…Squirt on my cock, okay?”

“S-Sannie, it’s too much,” you whined out, dragging your nails down his broad back, your toes curling just as San punched your next orgasm out of you when his curved cock once again came in contact with your g-spot.

As you began to cry from the overwhelming pleasure, San licked your tears away, gently pressing his lips into your cheek and jaw, shushing you. “Don’t worry, baby. Daddy’s here for you.” He clutched you close, holding still inside you, as his cock began to twitch. “Here it comes, princess, just for you.” A hot, creamy stream of cum began to shoot out into you, completely drenching your insides with his load.

You could hardly speak at this point in time, solely concentrated on the pleasure that still had a hold on your sore body and the warmth that was filling you up to the brim, suddenly realizing that your husband really wasn’t going to be happy with you. “Y-you shouldn’t have…nnnngh….”

San continued to roll his hips into you, his eyelids fluttering, groans spilling from his throat, your cunt still milking his pulsing cock for all it had, which was a lot, to say the least. Once there was nothing left to give you, San leaned down, pressing one last kiss to your lips, not caring that you had left your lipstick all over him. “Can I ask you something, baby?”

“Y-yes, San?”

San smiled, his glossy brown eyes glistening in the light. “When you have my baby, will you have the heart to tell your poor husband that it’s actually mine?”

Panting heavily and trying to process what the handsome stranger just said, you finally came to the realization that you let someone who didn’t even know your name possibly impregnate you. Well, at least you had something to talk about over breakfast with your husband, rather than hear him go on and on about his latest collection.

“I’m not sure about that one…”

“Can I ask you one more question?”

“Hm?”

“Should I name our baby Dolce or Gabbana?”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[mariasont]

i loved lipgloss!!! i was wondering if i could pls request smth where spencer walks in the BAU unaware of the lipgloss on his lips from kissing bimbo!receptionist or on his cheeks from being kissed then everyone's like "👀☝️🤨" (english isnt my first language im sorry😭)

STICKY SITUATIONS - S.R

a/n: back with the lipstick trope yeehaw, can't tell you all how much i appreicate u all and how patient u guys are with me when i ghost for like 5 months at a time. thank you so much for the request sug <3

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

warnings: spencer daydreaming about inappropriate things! PDA!

wc: 1.1k

Spencer woke up feeling untouchable, like nothing in the world could shake him. The kind of invincible where even the sky didn't seem like a limit. You had stayed the night, as you often did, and yet every time he woke up with you beside him, it felt like walking on air. Today was no exception.

You made sure he was late today--both of you were. He blamed you entirely, though he didn't mind. You pinned him down with a thousand little kisses, laughing as you insisted that it's essential for a day filled with good luck, and how else was he going to catch all the bad guys without a little charm from you?

Spencer's body vibrated like it was attuned to some invisible, higher frequency, one you alone could set. The smile threatening to break free felt inevitable, like a law of nature, as his mind drifted to thoughts of you--so unavoidable it was as if trying to pinpoint an electron's exact position and momentum in time. 

He had half a mind to swing by the reception desk just to see you. Just for a second. He'd convince himself it was enough, even though it never really was. Today, though? There was no chance he'd make it to his meeting. Not when you were wearing that skirt--his favorite. The one that fit you like it had been hand-stitched by hand for you alone, showing off your thighs in a way that made him picture them around his--

"Reid, you're—," Hotch's voice snapped him back into reality, his brows down turning as he regarded Spencer with a curious frown before shaking his head. "Late. C'mon."

Spencer followed Hotch into the conference room, their entrance as routine as ever--or so he assumed. But the moment they stepped inside, something shifted. The air crackled with stifled laughter, a ripple of poorly contained snickers breaking out across the team.

He froze mid-step, confusion knitting his brow as he scanned the room. His gaze flitted from face to face, trying to uncover the source of their amusement. The laughter, he realized with growing bewilderment, was somehow aimed squarely at him.

His pulse quickened as self-awareness kicked in, and his eyes darted downward, trying to detect the anomaly that had captured everyone's damn attention. A loose thread? A stain? Panic bloomed in his chest as he mentally ticked through a list of possibilities. His sweater seemed intact--no wayward strings. His pants were fine, no errant coffee stains or wrinkles. And his hair--well, his hair always had a mind of its own, but it wasn't that unruly today. Right?

Bastards.

He cleared his throat. "Okay, what did I miss?"

Emily tried--and failed--to stifle her laughter, shaking her head in disbelief. "I think you might need to go to look in the mirror, lover boy."

Spencer didn't bother questioning her. No explanation would be offered, at least not freely. He knew he'd get no real answers from this group, and honestly, he wasn't even sure he wanted them at this point. Instead, he slipped out of the conference room and headed down the hall, his mind a muddled tangle of confusion.

He was so distracted--so consumed with trying to figure out what he'd missed--that he nearly missed the sound of quick, approaching footsteps. It was only at the last second that he looked up, just in time for you to collide with him. His hands moved instinctively, catching your waist as you stumbled forward, stopping you from toppling over.

Spencer's breath caught. Gods know if you'd fallen in those heels, you'd be lucky to escape with just a sprained ankle. But you didn't fall. Instead, you let out a startled giggle as you looked up at him wide-eyed.

"Whoopsie," you said with a smile. "Hi there, handsome."

The instant the words left your lips, you clamped a hand over your mouth, fighting back a high-pitched squeal of laughter.

Spencer, even more bewildered, furrowed his brows in confusion. "Okay, what?"

"Hold still," you instructed, though your voice wavered between stifled giggles. You reached up for him, your fingertips hovering near his face.

He followed your hand with his eyes, still clueless, until you gently cupped his cheek. Whatever it was on his skin drew another wave of laughter from you, and in response, he prodded at your sides, each poke sending you into another fit of delighted squeals.

"Hey, that's not holding still, Dr.!" you gasped, halfheartedly swatting at his hands while you finished wiping away the last bit of whatever had clung to his face.

"Whoopsie daisy," you said again, still brushing invisible flecks from his cheek, your voice reminding him of what he envisioned sunshine poured into a teacup would manifest as. "Aw, Spence, looks like I kinda-sorta-maybe left a tiny little lipstick stain behind."

Your tone was drenched in honeyed innocence, as if this kind of thing just happened and you had no earthly clue how.

Spencer's eyes narrowed. "Is that why I've been subjected to my team's thinly veiled harassment?"

Your eyes went wide, and you gasped as if you'd just witnessed a high crime. "They were giving you trouble? Oh my gosh!" You pressed your fingertips to your lips. "Do I need to have a word with them?"

The determination in your voice sounded all too serious, and he was a little scared that you were actually prepared to march back to that conference room in your pretty heels and give the entire BAU a piece of your mind.

Spencer nearly chocked on a laugh. Of all possible reactions, yours was the sweetest, most fiercely protective--and downright hilarious. He held up a hand in a placating gesture, lips curving into a boyish grin. 

"Hmm, I appreciate the offer," he murmured, gently tapping his chin with a finger as if considering it. "However, I think you might need to have a word with the real culprit who decided my face should double as her personal canvas this morning."

"Me?" You pressed a hand dramatically to your heart. "I would never! I mean, sure, I might've given you a million good-luck kisses before you left, and maybe one or two... or three of my lip gloss stains decided to stick around, but that's hardly my fault!"

You shifted your weight to the balls of your feet and wiggled your fingers in a helpless sort of gesture. "That's just how good my gloss is, y'know?"

"Right," he replied, voice quieter now, eyes warm as they traced your face. "Clearly the lip gloss is at fault. We'll have to issue it a stern warning later."

"Exactly! Don't blame poor, innocent me." You paused, lowering your voice conspiratorially, leaning close enough that he caught the faint scent of your perfume. "And if any of the team give you grief again, you know where to find me!"

Spencer hummed, placing a light hand on the small of your back, steering you gently away from the corridor.

"I'll keep that in mind," he murmured, smiling as if the world had just aligned perfectly in that very hallway. "But for now, maybe we should try to make sure I get back to my meeting... gloss-free."

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join my taglist here!

[charliemwrites]

Part 5 of Obsessive!johnny

(CW: extremely dubious consent; I’d go so far as to say straight non-con. No violence. Please be safe, beans! 💕)

It’s your own fault - or no. That’s a dangerous way of thinking it not your fault. But you got complacent. Got desensitized to that looming sense of danger, the threat hiding in the shadow of his eyes. That little voice in the back of your head became background noise, not the guide it used to be.

All it took was a slip of your carefully crafted mask understanding Johnny’s “love” for you. Just one careless comment, a tone too honest.

You don’t even remember what you said now. Just that the feverish light in his eyes changed instantly. Like a shift in sunlight through colored glass. What frightened you was how his expression changed, shut down hard. His jaw tensing, brows going deceptively smooth.

“Is all this not enough for you?” he asks, taking big, measured steps towards you.

You start backing up, heart tripping over itself. “That’s not-“

“How many ways do you need me to prove it, hm?” he asks. “I’ve apologized a hundred times, bonnie, haven’t I? Is that not enough for you? I’m still not worth it to you?”

You put your hands up, all your carefully crafted and scripted responses fleeing in the face of this new, unfamiliar Johnny. He’s - he’s angry at you. Not because of you, or for you, but at you.

“I’ve been patient, haven’t I?” he continues, low voice wavering with something frightening. “Do you know how hard it is, seeing you cry for a life that wasn’t good enough for you? Do you have any idea how hard I’ve been trying?”

You swallow thickly, try to rally your scrambled thoughts. He just working himself up more and more and that voice that fell so quiet is screaming now. So loud it’s hard to make your mouth work.

“I-I know. I’m sorry,” you manage. “Im just… I lost my temper and said something I didn’t mean…”

His eyes narrow. “Oh, no, hen. I think you meant it.”

He up close to you now, barely a centimeter of space between your bodies. The heat of him is suffocating. You’ve never been so aware of how much bigger than you he is. It thrilled you when he’d loom over you at the bar, cocky confidence and easy smiles.

You meet his eyes.

And for a moment, he softens. You have the briefest golden flicker of hope.

And then he sighs. Deep and resigned. Your stomach flips.

“It’s my fault,” he mutters finally, shaking his head. “Haven’t been treating you right, have I?”

You don’t dare answer.

“Treating you like you’re one thing when you’re really everything.”

You open your mouth, try to speak, to reason with him. He just shushes you with a hand on your cheek, thumb pressing your lips closed.

“Always spoiling you like the princess you are, when sometimes you need to be treated like a slut.”

He jerk’s you around and shoves you onto the bed, plants a big hand between your shoulder blades and presses.

“Soap!”

“Hush up, baby, it’s alright. You don’t have to pretend to be all prim and proper,” he soothes, knocking your feet apart. “I don’t think any less of you for needing cock. Only natural.”

Your underwear rips like wet paper, accompanied by your high-pitched squeal of alarm. He makes a low, rough noise. Pure, animal lust. The fabric of his pants chafes against the backs of your thighs.

“Oh, there she is,” he purrs, “just like I thought.”

You cry out as rough fingers drag through your slit, gathering the slick you can’t believe is leaking from you.

“I’ve been so bad to you, bonnie, not treating you the way you need. No wonder you got all fussy and snappy.” The hazy thought that he might not he talking to you at all anymore burns through you. When you shift, trying to close your legs self-consciously, a sharp slap to your clit collapses your knees.

“We’re gonna set you right, babygirl,” he growls. “Won’t be able to worry your pretty little head anymore.”

He plunges two fingers into you without preamble. The stretch is vicious, but it doesn’t hurt. Not really. You’re too wet. Still, you scream - because Johnny’s spent so many hours playing with you, learning you, that he knows exactly where to press and curl and rub his fingers.

“Wait, wait,” you gasp, tears already collecting in your eyes because he’s being mean about it, twisting to grind his thumb against your clit. It’s too much, you’re not ready no matter what your body says. “Soap, don’t- ngh!”

“Gonna show you why you’re better off here. Right here. Gonna give this pretty cunt what it needs.”

The third finger is a stretch. You try to get away, try to crawl onto the bed to run, but he stomps a boot onto the chain around your ankle and flattens you to the mattress.

“Keep pretending if you want, baby,” he murmurs, “I know what you really need now.”

He’s withdrawing his fingers while you’re still pleading and babbling. You’re horrified to realize you don’t know if you want them back. It doesn’t matter though. Because Johnny’s cock is splitting you open before you can decide, thicker and longer than you’ve ever taken. He curses and groans as he pushes into you, inch by hot inch. Until you feel the fat leaking head tap at your cervix and he grinds, balls kissing your clit.

“T-too much!” you sob. “‘S too much!! Johnny, Johnny, please!”

Heat floods you as he shudders, hips jerking hard and rough. By your head, his fist is white-knuckled in the sheets.

“Did… did you just…?”

“Say my name again,” he snarls.

You blink wetly. “W-wha…?”

“Say. It. Again.” Each word punctuated by a brutal thrust. Something drips down your thigh.

“J-Johnny,” you keen, trying to beg for mercy.

“Jus’ like that.” He’s still hard. Still so fucking hard it’s like you’ve been edging him for hours. Like he didn’t just flood your poor pussy with cum.

“Been dreaming of you saying my name. Haven’t all this time,” he pants, rocking into you hard and fast. Any semblance of restraint is long gone. “Now I know why. Finally fuckin’ earned it. Gonna keep earnin’ it from now on.”

He fucks you so hard the bed leaves dents in the wall. Forces a hand beneath your pelvis to pinch your clit between two fingers and hurtles you shrieking into an orgasm. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t pause for a single beat. Just hitches your knee up onto the mattress and somehow fucks into your harder, faster, deeper. His fingers rub cruel circles into your oversensitive clit and you burn.

“No, no, wait, Johnny- ah! No, I’m gonna - it feels like-”

Wet heat gushes from you, spilling down your thighs, all over the bed and floor. You - you -

“Fuck, you squirted everywhere, good fuckin’ girl, princess.” He slows just a bit, presumably to appreciate the mess you’ve made. You’re too far gone on shock and awful pleasure to do more than sniffle and hiccup pathetically.

And then a death sentence.

“Do it again.”

[fuji-sen]

SaWuWa Headcanon pt. 2 .ೃ࿔*:･

scar-centric headcanon!

(mostly for the readers who are simping or genuinely like his characters)

warning: since i posted this in the first patch, he might seem ooc in the future.

ᯓ★ in headcanon pt#1 in this series, there's a short line where you practically simp for him, this continues on here- plus im biased for him at the moment ehehehehhe

ᯓ★ So they can hear you now, through your frequency, your voice is a bit garbled still but it's understandable. So it was very awkward and a bit annoying for scar when he first made his grand entrance to the rover!

"Guess you won't need need my self introduction-"

and you're probably like "oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!"

and he nearly messed up shuffling his deck of cards when you squeal and dote over him.

"it's scar!" (a line for those who were already aware of his existence through leaks and being updated in the fandom)

"he's so attractive!" you'd dote on his hair, his scars, and his voice.

"what the fuck-?" he looks at Rover who looks dead inside as you continued to gush.

ᯓ★ and again, he's bothered how chatty you are when he fights.

ᯓ★ butttt he gets used to it, and plus the compliments and the doting? he couldn't really complain.

he basically ate those shit up!

ᯓ★ and then in the future he gets so smugged about it, he's sure he is one of your favorites.

ᯓ★ but its a dang shame your frequency is attached to the rover, and he could only hear it clearly when he's nearby.

ᯓ★ Your affection towards him simply proves he was just that charismatic to get a disembodied voice to like him!

ᯓ★ He'll take your positive opinions of him as a sign that his and his group's plan is totally right! and he becomes even more confident!

ᯓ★ He'll probably be more interested and stalky with the rover when scar realizes that the frequency was strongest when he is near the rover!

ᯓ★ its a dang shame your frequency is attached to the rover, and he could only hear it clearly when he's nearby. it's even more a shame when Rover rejects to join him/them.

ᯓ★ So yeah, Rover kinda wishes you were physically there, with your own body ofc, to get that predator off their back!

ᯓ★ speaking of Rover, Scar probably uses the fact that you're so smitten with him to try and coax the Rover to join him.

"don't you want to make them happy?" Scar asked with a smile.

But Rover immediately shuts down that idea, "I want them to shut up about you honestly."

Wrote and Edited on: May 25, 2024 🖌

No rewrites, no translations, no posting or copying the text and posting on here or any platforms please ( • ᴖ • ｡)

[honeytonedhottie]

ways to look after ur mental well being⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧋

mental health is definitely the most important thing that u should work on and prioritize in everyday life so here r some ways that u can look after urself ✨🗒️💕

PEN AND PAPER ;

pen and paper is ur best friend, being able to articulate ur thoughts and get them down on paper is a great way to practice self awareness and is a good skill to have in general.

its best not to keep things harbored or bottled up in ur mind and if ur looking to get into therapy a great place to start getting comfy with ur emotions and thoughts is journalling.

this includes things like keeping a diary, doing shadow work, or prompted journalling. just being able to get comfortable and aware of whats going on in ur head is rly good for you.

CHECK-UPS ;

make a habit of checking up on yourself to make sure that ur doing everything that u need to be doing to function at ur best, to make sure that ur feeling okay and making adequate time for you.

some rly good ways to have little check-ups is just preparing some questions to ask urself sometimes (how do i feel?) is the most basic one but asking urself that does help put ur feelings into perspective.

METICULOUS ;

oftentimes, when we neglect our physical care, we can start to feel the effects of that in our mental health and our mood which is why i think that self care is such a major aspect in mental health.

sometimes when we hit rock bottom in our mental health/healing journey, doing self care can seem tedious and like a daunting task. its important to prepare an alternate routine for times like this when u absolutely MUST do a little something.

to find a good place to start i recommend my posts : the feel better formula. 🍰💗

KEEP A BOOKLET OF REMEDIES ;

sometimes it makes me feel better if i have a little booklet that tells me how to treat symptoms that i might feel, whether thats physical or mental. doing so makes me feel like i have a plan. some notes from my little booklet of remedies include

cuz sometimes, all your missing in ur mental health equation is one thing and its important to know urself and what u need, bcuz you are your own best doctor sometimes.

ASK THE HARD QUESTIONS ;

sometimes we need to be uncomfortable to be comfortable. some questions or some things that i wanna come to terms with/when i need to call myself out on something. THATS LOWKEY UNCOMFORTABLE.

when im doing shadow work and digging deep, THATS UNCOMFORTABLE. but its what needs to be done in order for me to move forward on my journey as a person.

with all this being said its important to never lose sight of urself and to be ur biggest protector, look out for yourself, do what u need to do to heal, HAPPY HEALING JOURNEY GIRLIES ✨

[thestrongestjewel]

The Clip post (the crink fanchild)

OK SOO if u follow me on instagram u probably know of this stupid creature I created:

this is clip! and as the little ref you're seeing there implies yes this is in fact a crink fankid because im cringe like that-

so, you might be wondering why did I create the creature? well thats a good question, it ties up with a comic I already posted here actually (this one) . In the universe in which Clip is born cross moves in with Ink in the doodlesphere after the events of underverse and they (mostly by accident) created clip

after a while the rate at which creators made aus started to slow down, putting ink in an artblock that let him pretty sad :( cross only wanted to help, and so he decided he wanted to help ink by creating something of their own! which ended up in- well- them co-parenting a child together lol

they have no idea of what they're doing but they're happy regardless, mind you they're not even dating by this point they just happen to live together and have a child- no romantic feelings whatsoever I promise guys I promise-

anyway, some facts about clip! (most of these are taken from a Q&A I did about him on instagram):

He's 7 years old in universe, just a small baby! pretty smart and self aware for his age though. he's also pretty small and likes climbing on things like a little bug

like ink, he can eat paint, his favorite flavour is lavender! cross tries to keep him in a somewhat normal diet, but its hard because clip does not like to eat actual food, he really likes chocolate mint icecream though.

his favorite parent is ink, he thinks cross is "too lame" and "booring" while ink is more fun and teaches him how to paint.

of course that's just him being a kid, he loves both of his parents very much! he's very confused about their relationship though

(it is in fact very embarrassing clip)

and that's pretty much all I have about them for now- I dont plan on doing any big comics/stories involving them, its not really my main interest I just really liked the concept

If u wanna make fanart of clip or include him in a comic feel free to :D

anyway back to taking a break from drawing I go woaooh

[nymphomatique]

special affair

dbf!miguel o’hara x fem!reader

art credit: _insomniac_red_ on ig. pictures are for mood setting, reader has no specific race or physical descriptions.

cw: a lil angsty, this is just shameless smut im sorry guys i don’t know what came over me, daddy kink, dbf!miguel <3, unspecified age gap but reader is legal, rough sex, squirting, unprotected sex, miguel is not a good man, conflicted reader, creampie, lowkey breeding kink, degrading language, choking/breath play, face slapping, spitting, mentions of oral (m), overstimulation, crying/dacryphillia, pubic hair grinding? lmao idk, reader is alluded to being in sub space. not proofread lol. 18+ only.

wc: ~1.5k

❤︎ an: hi my loves!! this is a sorta part two to this drabble, but can be read as a stand alone one shot. tbh i wrote this w my pussy.. i’m ovulating rn i’m so ashamed of myself 😔 nevertheless, enjoy! if you guys want more don’t hesitate to lmk!!

from that first night he fucked you from behind, you knew you strayed too far from the status quo in your life, you’re at the point of no return. that night, when he finished pounding you from behind and defiling you further with his seed all over your back and ass, you had laid in that position— spent and on your stomach- for the rest of the night, silently sobbing. you had betrayed your father, that much you were aware of the day you started rubbing at yourself meekly in the dead of the night thinking about his best friend.

you had long come to terms with that guilt, accepting whatever image of a burning inferno there is in the afterlife. what you cannot come to terms with, is the fact that he- miguel- had actually fucked you, indulged in what you considered your own taboo thoughts, ripping them from page and making your crude thoughts a sick reality. the worst part of this all is that amidst it all, the mental beratement, the nights you spent crying, the sick feeling the memories of miguel’s cock stretching you absolutely thin, showing you a climax like no other— you want to hate yourself for it, for being weak. for being such a bad girl. but you didn’t know why your body decided to betray your brain, the physical craving for the older man’s body possessing you whole. you can’t bear this feeling, holding it up inside you and trying to keep it at bay. fuck- you needed to talk to someone, you had to, even if it’s the last person you want to speak to.

nevertheless, you end up two houses down, sniffling and heaving in the dead of the night, knocking the door as hard as your trembling hands would let you. the door swings open and at the sight of him you keen, your body aching at the sight of the burly muscles covered in sun kissed skin. dark brown hair streaked with grey at the temples. a slight five o’clock shadow, he must not have shaved this morning. and then you look into those eyes, swallowing you up whole and you begin to tear up again. miguel is silent, leaning against the door with messy hair, glazed eyes and clad in boxers, and boxers only. fuck, you shouldn’t have come here.

“I-.. Miguel, it hurts,” you sob quietly, aflame with shame and embarrassment at how little resolve you had. He grabs your face with his warm hands and you’re trembling now, ready for him. your lips ghost for a moment before he breathes out. “i’m not a good man, sweetheart. if you don’t say no, i’m gonna break you.” he sounds sincere with his words and his eyes go stern. you wish you had some self of self control, or maybe having better discernment. but the only thing you say to him only confirms what you already knew about yourself; you’re a terrible fucking person. 

“violate me.”

your lips are smashed against each other, tongues dancing and it feels so good to be in his embrace again. your tears fall down your cheeks, meeting at the junction of your mouths in a pool of saliva. miguel groans and you know why, remembering what he had said to you the last time.

“i like when you cry.”

you’re grabbed up at the hips, legs wrapped around a thick torso, pressed up against a firm chest and a heavy cock. the moments up to the bedroom are cloudy, drunk off his lips against yours. you come to slightly when cold plush sheets hit your back and a pair of lips leave yours. you whine, yearning for his touch again. he looks down at you, bringing your right foot to his mouth, he licks lightly up the sole- kissing the ball of your foot before he leans down, caging your between his elbows, face to face.

“you gonna be good for your daddy?” he asks softly, kissing between the bridge of your nose once. 

“y-yes,” you breathe out with a slow nod. 

“mmm. gonna let me violate this tight little body too?” he asks, still soft in tone and you think you’re gonna go crazy by the end of the night. “yes, daddy,” you murmur, lost in his eyes. 

“sick fucking little girl. but that’s how i like it,” he chuckles, kissing you softly before getting up stripping you bare.

“letting your daddy undress you like a good girl. so obedient f’me,” he coos at you, touching you softly and you’re almost in tears. you need him. and you let it be known. a lone tear falls down your cheek and you mewl, “n-need you to make it better down there, daddy.”

his large hand engulfs you cheek, thumb wiping your tear softly before squishing your face, putting his tear stained thumb in your mouth. “you think you’re a big girl now, hmm? telling your daddy what to do?” you look up at him teary eyed, suckling his thick finger.

“you take what i give you, when i give it to you.” he squeezes you cheek a little harder before softly slapping your cheek and you squeak at the contact. a rough laugh leaves miguel’s mouth at your reaction. “you have no idea how bad i’m gonna treat you, baby.”

you’re non verbal at this point, mouth agape and leaking saliva down your jaw seeping into the sheets and the junction of your neck and chest. a hand slaps your cheek again, you’ve lost how many that is now. “i fucked you stupid already?” miguel laughs, hard thrusts sending you flying up the bed. his hands on your hips bring you down back to him each time, poking you right in that sweet spot in your pussy. you’ve lost count of how many orgasms you’ve head, body wracked and numb with pleasure. throat hoarse from the near-violent throat fuck he gave you.

a glob of spit hits your forehead and you groan a bit. the one thing you’re sure of is that you look a goddamned mess. a crude picture of the activity you’ve been partaking in for the past two hours. a hand leaves your hip to wrap around your neck and squeeze roughly, making you gasp for air, your body finally moving.

“there we go, got you moving now. thought i fucked you to sleep for a second.” 

your eyes are glossy, at the lack of air and building pressure. your hand meekly wraps around his wrist as he fucks into you. you know you shouldn’t like the way he toys with you like this, waking the line of torment and pleasure with no care in the world. but you do. and you can’t deny it anymore.

“you’re tightening up on me again. you gonna cum for me again?” miguel asks you, and he laughs after knowing you can’t even answer him. “sick little girl. you like it when i choke you? make you feel weak? worthless?” 

it’s barely audible, but the moan you let out vibrates in your neck and miguel can feel it with the hand pressed against your throat. he throws his head back with a groan. “nasty, naughty girl. fuck baby, gonna cum in that little pussy.”

you’re almost there, and quite frankly impressed that you haven’t fully passed out yet. your head feels light, and you begin to tremble violently, gushing out spurts of liquid as your head falls to the side. if this is hell, you’re not so sure you could give this up for heaven. your eyes close and you feel so close to falling asleep when he removes his hand from your neck, grabbing your head by the nape of your neck, craning you up to where you can see his thick cock slip and slide between your thighs. you groan at the image. 

“need you awake to see me cum in you, don’t i?” miguel groans. “you like watching me fuck you, like letting me dirty you.”

 his tuft of black pubic hair rubs against yours as his thrusts become increasingly sporadic and intense, and it has you trembling at the stimulation it gives your clit. you weakly squirt each time his pelvis brushes against your clit, your body letting you know you have only so much left in you before you’re drained empty.

“fuck, love it when you wet the bed. my pissy little girl. daddy loves the messes you make.” he’s nearly breathless and you pray he’s going to cum in the next minute, the ache in your neck and dull sensation in your pussy building slowly.

“c-cum in me. wanna give you a baby,” you moan, looking up from the fast thrusts and into miguel’s eyes. 

“fuck! so n-naughty, baby. gonna give me another one, huh? fucking take it, then.” with a final thrust, you feel the warmth of his cum shoot and blossom somewhere deep within you. you moan weakly, one final weak spurt of squirt coming out of you. miguel pulls out and you watch him look at the mess he made of you and your pussy, covered in spit, cum and the beginnings of handprint bruises blossoming on your hips and ass from how hard he gripped and spanked you. 

you can feel his cum slowly trickle out of you, and your body feels like it’s no longer your own. after so many orgasms, your limbs are on fire, and you can do nothing but breathe and weakly murmur a “d-daddy..” while your eyes close.

tags: @realhotgirlshitah @obsessed-with-miguels-ass @maxiethestrange

message me to be removed!

[lavenderspence]

unexplained sadness | A.H.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader | Word Count: 2.5K

Content warning: pre-established relationship, depression, mental health struggles, mentions of therapy, angst, supportive!aaron

Summary: you've struggled to find a way out from under the darkness for years, but you were thankful he offered the final push you needed.

A/N: I drafted this a few days, contemplating if I should even post it. it's very self-indulgent. I wrote it at a time when I wasn't able to understand my own feelings, and im still not sure how. I think this is the realest my writing has been, but i do think I'm posting this with the most vulnerability as well. I want you all to remember, just in case you're struggling - you're amazing, you're enough and I believe in you. Life is crazy, but it will get better, allow yourself to be patient, and most importantly, take the greatest, most gentle care of yourself 💕

masterlist

You looked around, well aware of the amount of relief that should be flooding your body right now. It usually did at the end of a case, where another monster was put to rot in a cage much appropriate for its’ sins. 

But even knowing what you should be feeling, the simple truth was - you weren’t feeling anything at all, and you hadn’t for a while. 

And even when you did feel something, you could never explain it. It was a mess, where many emotions fought a battle, but in the end, all it came down to was an endless void where the darkness and despair of the unexplained won out.

The only thing you could feel at that moment was the pressure of the vest compressing against your chest. It stole the little amount of oxygen in your lungs in favor of an overwhelming amount of hidden sadness. 

Even with the sun high up in the sky and the warmth it was supposed to spread all over your skin, you felt cold - no warmth actually penetrated the top layer of your skin. And the chatter - EMTs, police officers, and outlookers, you couldn’t process anything at all. 

It was like you were standing there, like a statue, a headstone to remind everyone of your presence once upon a time, but not anymore. Physically, you were alive and aware, but mentally, you’ve been fighting a battle you could confidently admit you were losing. 

Your thoughts were deeply wrapped in a cobweb of confusion and melancholy, a never-ending cycle that couldn’t stop repeating itself. It felt like you didn’t exist outside the realm of your own despair. Each day the shadows around you persisted in their pursuit of you, dragging in with them this empty feeling, designed to leave you feeling like a loner. 

The string holding you tethered to the person you’d been before was tinning each day as the distance between you grew bigger and bigger. You no longer even felt her presence at all. For weeks you’ve fought a silent battle against your own mind, and even your body sometimes. 

You tried to hide behind a mask of fake smiles and nights spent around the people you trusted most, hoping you’d feel better, but you never did. You only felt this state you were in, as it gained speed and grew in volume. 

But there was a certain pair of eyes that saw the subtle changes in you, straight into a place even you couldn’t see. Warm chocolate, sometimes shining amber in the sun - somehow strict but also oh so soft. 

You thought you hid it well, but you could never hide yourself from him, and you should have known. 

Your hotel room was dark and quiet, safe for the gentle light and sound that came from the TV. A movie was playing, an early 2000s song in the background. The duvet felt heavy over your body, and you longed to kick it off in an effort to feel less trapped, but you couldn’t find the strength to. It was like your whole body was paralyzed in a fatal position with your muscles locked and your eyes open but unseeing. 

Case after case came, and each day it got harder. You had to try and perfect a mask you were getting tired of wearing, tired of hiding behind. You couldn’t skip work, lest you wanted to feel like more of a failure than you already did sometimes. 

You felt scared to admit to your struggles, half unsure what your struggles were to begin with, half unwilling to unload on others. You were willing to suffer and fight this on your own until you either had nothing left to fight against or no strength left to fight at all.

Your mind was working overtime, half empty and dark, half full and constantly spinning, you didn’t even process the foreign sound at first. Only it wasn’t so foreign - a series of gentle raps or someone’s knuckles against the door. Knocking. They were just enough to alert you of a newcoming presence but not disturb you or others in any way. 

You didn’t move a muscle. Even when two more knocks followed, even more gentle than the first, all you could do was blink. Even with the soft call of your name that came seconds later, you couldn’t find the strength to answer or even get up. You couldn’t even twitch. 

You stood there frozen in place, in time. Frozen between the walls of a prison of your own mind’s making. 

The knocks stopped, as did the voice calling out your name, maybe finally resigned to the fact you weren’t answering at all. 

Giving up on you the way you’d given up on yourself. 

You would be surprised if you didn’t feel a tiny bit of relief at being left on your own. Too bad the relief didn’t actually last long - just seconds after the lock beeped, signaling it was unlocked, and the door was slowly opening, bathing the room in the hallway light. 

Even with the small, hesitant steps this person took, you were instantly able to tell by the sounds of his feet hitting the wooden floor who it was. 

“Did you know it’s actually illegal to break into someone’s space?” Your voice came out raspy from misuse. You weren’t sure how much time had actually passed since you made it to your room, but if you had to guess, probably several hours had gone by.

“I do know that actually, it’s criminal law 101.” He retorted before you felt the mattress dip close to your feet, “You missed dinner.” He mussed.

A part of you couldn’t handle having a conversation with him, not right now. Not in the complete darkness, and the quiet stretched between you both. 

“I wasn’t hungry.” You answered simply. You waited for him to say something, and you waited and waited, and he wasn’t saying anything. It was like he was looking for the right words to use, so as not to offend you, or set you off. But you wouldn’t feel any of it if he did - just as the night was dark outside and so was your mind. 

“Just spit it out, Hotch.” You finally used a part of his name, unintentionally closing the distance the smallest bit even when you tried to stay away. Maybe subconsciously you knew you could trust him, if a little.  

“You’re not doing well.” 

You didn’t even hesitate. “Wow, way to show you aren't actually a gentleman.”

“I’m not trying to...” You could almost see him shaking his head, so in tune with his reactions from years of working alongside him, “I’m worried about you.” It left him in a whisper, like he was afraid to admit it. 

“I’m okay, there’s no need.” You denied it like it was your biggest defense against his accusations. Except they weren’t that, genuine worry dripped along with his words, but you had a hard time accepting it. You couldn’t, didn’t want to. Being vulnerable, especially in front of him, could cost you a lot, and with the way you’ve been living, you couldn’t afford it.

Even when deep in your heart you trusted him with everything, even yourself. 

You felt him place his hand on the duvet, enclasping his palm around your calf. “You were okay five weeks ago, and you haven’t been since then. I’ve been watching you wear a mark and barely holding yourself from falling apart. I don’t think ‘okay’ applies right now.” 

“I thought we promised not to profile each other.” You muttered brokenly, feeling parts of the mask he was talking about cracking in places. It was like having him so close, peeling your outer layers slowly, and leaving you exposed, finally making your emotional reactions coincide with your lack of understanding. It was like he was exposing all of you both to himself and you too. 

“Not at the expense of suffering in silence, we didn’t.” He answered with conviction, no hesitation. He was making it apparent your wellbeing was more important to him than any promise he might have made to you or others. He was letting you know he was prioritizing your health over everything else. 

He understood you even without you having to say anything. Just by watching you try to swim to the surface of the ocean and still being pushed by the crashing waves, he could already feel that you were struggling. 

He could see you were self-isolating, even when you were being surrounded by people. He picked up on the signs in the subtle subject changes you made whenever someone asked anything about you. You were unwilling to share, even though you loved sharing any little detail about your interest, allowing others to do the same. 

You let Garcia talk about her software and cute animals and allowed Reid to share any little fact with you he could. But even when you listened, it wasn’t hard to see you really weren’t. Staring into spaces or faking an interest, even though he knew you would be interested in the first place, had there not been anything amis to begin with. 

And slowly piece after piece had started falling together, like a puzzle started, yet left abandoned. 

In the darkness of the hotel room, miles away from your home and mere doors down from the rest of your team, a piece deep inside you started longing for the understanding he was offering. It started building up with worry over the reality of the words you knew you needed to say but were too scared to. It started wishing for a new slate, where the overwhelming amount of confusion and empty darkness no longer followed you like a shadow. 

It slowly started coming to terms with the fact that you weren’t enough to fight this on your own and that maybe you needed help to do so.

For the first time in weeks, months, who knew, maybe even years, you wanted to talk about it. You wanted to admit to your state of mind where reality got mangled with your deepest darkest thoughts imaginable, where self-doubt and the feeling of worthlessness took over. Where giving up sounded so much better than trying out again. Where any positivity was instantly turned into negativity whether you liked it or not. 

For the first time you craved being helped, you wanted to understand your own struggles and get better. You wanted to thrive in the life you were living instead of settling for simply existing. You wanted to talk, and you wanted to tell him all that. 

You rolled your lips between your teeth before you bit down until you tasted blood. One of your hands barely made it out from underneath the warmth of the duvet before you grabbed into the bedding with a tight fist. 

“I don’t think I’m doing okay, Aaron.” You whispered into the darkness. The bed dipped and groaned as he moved closer, settling just centimeters away from your cocoon this time. You were so busy looking over the skyline that you didn’t even see his hand move until you felt his warm palm overtop your skin. He held onto you, trying to prompt you into releasing the bedding, tapping his fingers in a gentle manner. 

He was offering you comfort without really saying or doing anything. He was letting you try and put your thoughts together before you entrusted him with the truth. 

“One minute I’m good, and the next it feels like I lose all touch with my own self and my feelings - It’s all empty, or an overwhelming amount of sadness I couldn’t begin to even understand. I can’t even grasp what prompts this sudden change. I’ve tried fighting it for so long, years maybe, and each time it comes back, I’m left feeling more hopeless than the last.” You explained in a small voice. 

A wave of relief, if small, rocked your whole body. There was something freeling about saying it out loud, ignoring the fear of admitting that had followed you for years. 

“Have you ever told anyone about it?” His voice was just another shadow in the room. A timbre so calm, quiet, and soothing that you knew he was listening with no reservations and no judgments. Just a pure need to help.

You went to shake your head, but remembered you were both still looking towards the window. “I’ve always played it off as a joke. I’ve never let it sound like I really mean it. Not like I do right now.” It was one of the many truths you’d admitted to that night. Even when you played it off, you knew deep inside it was a small cry for help you didn’t want to. You were unwilling to take the right steps in order to get the help you needed. 

“Why joke about it?” You thought about it for a second, trying to clear out the fog of the past.

“I guess…” Your fingers clenched underneath his own. “I guess I just wanted to see if anyone cared enough to ask if I was serious. They didn’t.” Realistically, you knew you shouldn’t wait on other people or expect them to see something amiss before you looked for help. But a part deep enough inside you wanted the reassurance that someone loved you enough to notice.

“But you want to get help?” He mumbled, still tapping his finger against your own.

“Yes.” You didn’t even have to think about it. You owed yourself that much, and all the help possible you could get.

“Okay.” He exhaled in relief, “As soon as we get back, we’ll start looking, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You whispered. You felt his hand squeeze your own in reassurance. You turned your palm up, enveloped his own hand, and gave him one back, “Thank you, Aaron.”

A few minutes of looking at the starless sky passed before he prompted you to move, if just enough to walk into the bathroom and wash your face - and you did. When you came back, he’d made himself comfortable leaning against the headboard, legs stretched on the mattress. 

He spent the night sleeping in yesterday’s clothes, trying to make sure you were doing okay and weren’t left feeling lonely. 

You knew there was a long path ahead of you - the path to self-understanding and acceptance of your own flaws and struggles, as well as the changes you may need to adapt to moving forward. Something you were undoubtedly going to have a hard time with. Where you’d need to fight against the days when you questioned whether it was worth it. Where you’d slowly have to come to terms with the fact that as long as you were making yourself happy and keeping yourself afloat, there wasn’t anything worth more. 

The path to recovery was never supposed to be easy or linear, but you had him to thank for being the final push. You had to be thankful for each minute of the time he gave you. And each grain of love he showed you in the process. 

You needed the help - for yourself, your past, your present, and your future self. And for every second you spent failing to understand the person you were and the feelings you held onto.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!!!

[hellonerf]

this post is going to be my depository for the caname yandere notes i wrote a while ago and im finally posting. below this line is it. if you want you can just ignore the walls of text for this image of ame as miyuki from you and me and her or read through it for my yandere caname braindead details

straightforwardly, they'd be different in approach. dumb in their own ways 🤤 loosely using yandere here okay i know the meaning has changed a lot okay(snoreee)

for a yandere cana, in context to caname. a mumbling withdrawn yandere… just a general big fan of how it can come off as shyness. well i personally love a really messy sadled-by-internal-conflict kind of yandere… i think there’d be a weird type of shame there. always has the feeling that he’s afraid to be perceived. a weird overlap… with his ame-related frustrations “he won’t even look at me… (seethe)” and “ohhhmygod he CAN’T look at me (shaking)”. like he feels in the right but feels afraid simultaneously. and he knows so much about ame but ame doesn’t reciprocate such effort? unfair…(grits teeth).

he can confidently say he knows everything about ame, and then mumble about how ame barely knows anything about him. i want to him to rage internally about that that it bubbles up (>_>) entitlement and yandereness kind of go together anyways. she’s glaring at her with such intensity and she won’t even turn around to notice… can't she at least have this... she rarely gets anything for herself... at least this... i like any case of someone being yandere for ame where they take on a kind of caretaker role. he’s so stupid he can’t do anything he doesn’t know what’s good for him etc… (happy)(happy anytime ame loses control in some way)(ties him to cana like a balloon). loveee the idea of cana hitting him or something and then doting on him right afterwards like he didn’t cause it. HOW’d you get such an INJURY…… so irresponsible 🤦‍♂️

another thing is cana is more comfortable with femininity than ame. this is factual and ame i’d imagine to be tenser about it. i don’t know what this means guys. anyways i think his feelings build up into a climax more... turned into action! whatever it is he does to ame

a yandere ame is harder for me to put into words. because i okay. i like her a lot. i think he’d be so rage jealous upset internally, but also so much so that he can’t keep it in (i don’t think his control on how much of his emotions leak out is very good, i don’t think he has a good enough lid on it) so he’ll come off very spiteful, controlling, accusatory. she’s keeping track of where you go where she can’t see you. she doesn’t believe what she can’t see. ame’s high and fragile ego i think… deep down he can be insecure and paranoid. it’s frustrating for him to feel unsure at all. especially if it contradicts what he believes he heard. and it’s an insult that someones even making him feel so unsure. she’s like stomping her foot… wants her full attention at all times… she won’t and can’t let you get away with fooling around.

in a caname nationverse… i think there’d then already be a lot of interactions ame would consider “the ultimate betrayal” lol… similar in cana that he’d want reciprocation for the attention given, but i think he’d be 10x more blatant in the rage and entitlement. it'd cause more lashing out to the perceived betrayal i think. he's stuck between wanting affection and being so mad that he's not getting it already. demanding of cana's time loyalty and reciprocation... yandere that seethes that the one they love isn't as crazy about them lol... paired with all this… complexes about doing things “right”. communicating “right”. i think ame doesn’t really have a natural intuition in communication, relying on imitating social customs while not understanding them fully. so it'd be even more upsetting to him that he's "done it right" and he still doesn't get what he wants.

and also with that i think he’d be lacking in self awareness so hard… gets into antics… thennn i think he's more explosive in this, feels a white hot jealous rage and acts based on that, but its easy to forget outside of those moments.

in these descriptions i think cana's works prior to dating... if dating ever starts at all lol i think he thinks of it less like a romance endeavor and more like a... well he's already always right next to him! its been building up for forever... for ame's i think these only really get prominent with something "established". he already demands your time but if cana like specifically promised something, or he had some epiphany, that'd cause all these wants to be much more visible. i feel like he tends to need a catalyst for some feelings to come to the forefront

the switching pronouns is cause saying all this im imagining them yandere girl-like no matter what because i have personal feud with male yandere

[feistyvirghoe]

₊˚ෆ𝑾𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑷𝑬𝑶𝑷𝑳𝑬 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬 𝑨𝑩𝑶𝑼𝑻 𝒀𝑶𝑼? 𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑳𝑰𝑴𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑺 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑫𝑶𝑵𝑻 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹 𝑶𝑭𝑻𝑬𝑵? ༉‧₊˚.

!!ᴘɪᴄᴋ ᴀ ᴄᴀʀᴅ ᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀꜱ!!

ᴘɪᴄᴋ ᴀ ᴘɪʟᴇ ᴜ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴜ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ꜰʀᴏᴍ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʟꜱɪɴɢ, ɢᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢᴜᴛ, ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴛʀᴜꜱᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇ��ꜰ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪꜰ ᴜ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ’ꜱ ᴄᴏᴏʟ ʙᴀʙʏ ʙᴏᴏ! ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴜ!

ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ᴠᴀꜱᴛ ᴀᴍᴏᴜɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴘʟ, ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ɢᴇᴛ ᴜʀ ᴜɴᴅɪᴇꜱ ᴀʟʟ ᴛᴡɪꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ʙᴄ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇꜱᴏɴᴀᴛɪɴɢ, ɪᴛ’ꜱ ɴᴏʀᴍᴀʟ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ꜰɪɴᴇ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴡᴀꜱɴ’ᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴜ! <3

ᴇxᴛʀᴇᴍᴇʟʏ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʏ’ʀᴇ ᴍᴇᴀɴᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴘᴜʀᴘᴏꜱᴇꜱ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ꜱᴏ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟꜱᴏ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴢᴇ ᴍʏ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴠᴇ 18!

𝑷𝑰𝑳𝑬 1 >what people love about you guys is how expressive you are with whatever it is you’re doing, like you’re the ones to explore uncharted territory, the people that like to go do out of the box shit, you’re very adventurous, onto the next thing, the next step, i feel like it may be your unpredictability. it’s like a shock to other people, you doing your own thing, how passionate you are about it too. not letting dumb things get in your way, it’s as if you don’t have time for the drama. something about how fierce you are, it seems to wake something up in others. you get people’s attention and i think that scares them, you come off as intimidating but you just got your own, you really need no one to validate your existence. i feel like it’s because you listen, you don’t exclude people, true sweethearts, my lil feisty ass sweethearts. i feel like it may be your brattiness too, you have people engaged, i also feel like it’s the way you love others as well, you show up for people, i feel like others love the way they can count on you. not in a way to take advantage of you and if so clock that shit! i also am feeling you leaving shit behind that does not serve you, you know how people stay in shit situations bc they feel obligated to, well not u babe, you will get your ass up and leave, which u should! you don’t need to stick around and take on shit that’s irrelevant and will waste your damn time. i also feel like people like how you can see through other people’s bs. you’re aware of others weird intentions towards you, like u can feel it and/or see it as well and when u do you it may make you feel like you’re the problem solver, having solutions to the confusion in your life even if u think you don’t. it’s like you re-group, a lot of introspection and pondering, sitting there, listening to your inner self as well, when you put everything together, and it starts making sense you go from there and make the right decisions for yourself.

𝑷𝑰𝑳𝑬 2 > im getting this cool feeling from you guys, like you’re the popular loner, the person who people wanna get close to but they can’t because you’re selective with who you hang around. i know that’s weird but people like how you enjoy your solitude, your peace, how you can keep to yourself, not like you don’t need people but you just don’t need the wrong people all up in your bubble, your safe space. but i also feel like people love how you embrace the chaos, change is like your middle name, you can easily adapt and let go of things that are out of your control, you know how to get out of your comfort zone. you’re someone who’s cutoff game is strong! you simply do not need anyone i swear this is the theme, YOUR INDEPENDENCE, you know that some things never last and shit is temporary. you know how that can irk some people, like they despise the chaos and they think that it’s punishment but you see it as an opportunity to grow and move on from the stuff that was bringing you down, maybe you just can’t take the unnecessary stagnation, like what are you waiting for, i feel like people love this about you, because you know there’s that sunrise that comes the next day. “if you got beef your problem not mine” you’re like a shocker to people, maybe it’s how you look, maybe it’s how your energy comes off to others but you’re just someone who fucking shows people. that shit can be done a different way. yes you know that it’s never really over and this ending or whatever has been broken down in your life is making way for something newer and better. i feel like people love how you can bring balance into your own life, your steady and confident on that tight rope which may be intimidating and extremely intense for others but you can handle that shit, a very transformational pile. people probably love how you bring change into their damn life but yours as well, maybe people are feeling outcasted by you but you just need time to do things alone and on your own, you’re always thinking and creating, some people may think that you’re full of yourself and that you may just want to cause problems but i feel like that’s there insecurity that they may want to rub off on you, like “oh pile 2 hot a big head” oh fucking please. just because you mind your fucking business and because you’re a natural leader, someone who’s in control but also knows that they’re not and that our creator can bring shit down and humble us whenever and you get that, you just fucking get it and if others don’t that’s all on them, you don’t seems to hold grudges and that may make people think that you’re somehow full of yourself because you think you’re better than the stupid drama and negative projections from people. just keep doing you and stay in your damn lane but u already know that! PERIOD!

𝑷𝑰𝑳𝑬 3 > i feel like the compliments you don’t receive is how beautiful you are, you’re such a magical manifestor, someone who takes the bull by its horns and starts doing, how you can create such beautiful things, whatever it may be, your skills, you seem smart as hell and i say that because you take advantage of this natural talent that’s within you, this was so weird but i was just getting like stalker fucking energy, like people like to watch u do shit, probably don’t wants you doing certain things bc they know how much abundance is within you but maybe you can’t see it clearly but others can. anyways, this is about you not those freaks. i feel like you’re such an inspiration to others with how quietly you do things. there is this mysteriousness about you guys. others don’t know too much about you and that seems to intrigue them, like “i need to know more more more about you!”jeeeeez!! its probably why that other shit came out, like people seem to yap a lot about you and what you have going on. people love how assertive you are, you’re not arrogant or rude but you just give off that stable personality. someone who’s taking that leadership role in any part of your life, whether that may be with school, work, home life, your friends, you’re someone who people can count on, you know how to balance your femme and masculine side, and we all need to, we can’t have one side overpowering the other you know, it causes a major disruption inside of us, and i also feel like it’s how you draw people in with how alluring you may be, you can do both, you can be very stern and set in your ways and you know when to take action at the right time for yourself but you also know how to step into that receiving role, letting love come to you, i feel people may love how you love others, like you don’t make hasty decisions when it comes to your love life, you know yourself and how valuable you are. you’re precious boo and for others to try and make u look weird (by them talking mad shit, just yapping nonsense about you) but it’s bc you’re a no nonsense person, bitch you’re literally a fucking star! all of these cards are major arcana’s and with that coming out it’s like your life looks almost perfect from the outside but people don’t know how you’re doing inside, like what’s going on in your head and what’s hurting your heart, you keep up a good face for outsiders and i see why, not everyone deserves to be near you and in your beautiful energy! you guys make balanced and wise choices for yourself and for others too! something about your creativity and character i feel like you just simply make other people happy by you just being yourself without feeling guilty for it, which u should never feel guilty for loving yourself and making you your first priority, you matter my love! also i’m feeling your humanitarian side as well, the way you care so much about other people that’s why i said what i said above, it’s like someone hates that side of you but this isn’t that reading baby, don’t play into that stupid game either, it’s okay to of service to others and want to help your community or just anyone in general but set good boundaries for yourself, remind yourself not to extend a hand to ungrateful, disgusting, DISRESPECTFUL individuals, know who deserves your time and energy and who don’t. you’re a badass baby!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃 𝒶𝓂𝒶𝓏𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒! 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒’𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝓎𝓅𝑒 𝓊𝓇 𝓁𝒾𝓁 𝒸𝓊𝓉𝑒 𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻 𝓊𝓅 𝒽𝑒𝒽𝑒! 𝒾 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓊 𝑒𝓃𝒿𝑜𝓎𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓁𝓂𝓀 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊’𝒹 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓃𝑒𝓍𝓉. 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒, 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓇𝑒𝒷𝓁𝑜𝑔 𝒾𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓇𝑒𝓈𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓎. 𝓇𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝓊 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓇𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒾 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊*ੈ✩‧₊˚

[miraeluc]

i loved ur last hcs about sh so much ! if its not too much, can i ask for u to make a 2nd part (?) including shoto & izuku. please, im begging u, ill sell my organs if needed. thank u <3

dearest, from the depth of my heart, i’m offering my sincere apologies, for some stupid reason, i saw your ask a few months ago, prepared the draft and forgot entirely about it. i feel so bad pls don't sell your organs omg i hope this reaches you.

bnha boys finding out about your selfharm

prompt: /

pairing: izuku midoriya x reader, todoroki shouto x reader

warnings: mention of bad mental state! (reader); selfharming; some crying; pronouns of reader not mentioned (i think? correct me if i’m wrong pls!)

izuku midoriya

izuku, just like bakugou, was aware that you had been struggling with your mental health

but, obviously, he also was not aware of your self-harm tendencies

to be fair, it wasn't something you struggled with for a long time

only two months, to be exact

the first time you put a blade to your skin was your biggest regret - because although it wasn't pleasureable, it was extremely easy to spiral out of control, doing it nearly every day as if it was routine.

and since it was winter - you didn't worry about hiding it since you could wear long clothes without people questioning it anyway

when izuku found out, he was a mess

it went like this

the both of you were spending a cozy evening together

since everyone in your class was out or with their families, you had the entire living area to yourself

you were sat beside him, scrolling on tiktok and he was doing the same, but on his own phone

after a long while of you guys just silently enjoying eachother's company, he wanted to ask if you were hungry, but since he hadn't spoken in a while his voice cracked while doing so, and you were quick to mock him

long story short, you were now underneath him while he was tickling you.

when you tried to push his hands away, he grabbed your wrist - initially only wanting to stop you, but when you winced, he immediately stopped tickling you and, without thinking, pulled up your sleeve to see if he had hurt you

instead, he was met with the red, angry lines littered across your skin, the wounds not fresh enough to still bleed, but they were obviously still open wounds

you froze in place

he gulped, eyes moving to meet yours before he wordlessly pulled you to sit on his lap, arms wrapping around you and caging you in

"-'s ok. don't feel bad. i'm sorry i didn't realise sooner." he choked out, trying to blink away his tears

you were still frozen in place, thoughts running wild as you tried to gather your words to say something 

“izu.. please- don’t blame yourself for not realising sooner,”

he moved to look at you, teary eyes meeting yours “let’s bandage you up, ok, love?”

before you could react, he already stood - hands steady beneath your thighs, carrying you towards his dorm room, placing you down onto his bed before leaving to grab a first-aid kit from his bathroom

he wordlessly applied aloe vera gel over the more or less still fresh wounds, wrapping bandages around your arm securely before pressing a light kiss on your hand

“we can talk if you want to, but let’s get the food i was talking about earlier, hm?” 

you smiled slightly and nodded

although you still had a long road before you, you felt that a tiny burden had been lifted off your shoulders

you no longer had to fight for happiness all alone, - izuku would be by your side every step of the way, rest assured.

todoroki shouto

although shouto was indifferent, he was not stupid

he didn’t officially know of your battles with mental health, nor did he officially know about your self-harming tendencies, but he picked up the signs.

he didn’t want to confront you about immediately - since he also wasn’t a very open person, he wanted to provide you the space you needed until you were ready to open up and talk about your struggles

in the meantime, he tried his best to subtly ask fuyumi for tips on how to comfort someone when the time came

he did begin to get increasingly worried when he started hearing less and less from you - you often didn’t show up to class, and you never answered texts

todoroki, not being one to pry, tried giving you the space he assumed you needed

he didn’t take it personally - he knew you weren’t doing this on purpose, but he was flooded with worry.

and when he found out you haven’t been leaving your room at all, he decided it was time to react and check on you, even if it meant bothering you

when he stepped into your room, his eyes had to adjust to be able to see in the darkness that immediately engulfed him as the door clicked shut behind him

the air was stale - clothes scattered around the floor. your bed was messy, but you were not to be seen

tentatively he called out your name, switching on the small bedside lamp you had

„y/n?“ as he took in the sight of your room, but his eyes zeroed in on something, an object, on your bedside table

he tried again, blood running cold

„y/n? are you in the bathroom?“

he picked up said object, mindful to not cut himself with the small blade, moving to place it somewhere away from beside your bed - out of sight, in hopes that his heart would slow its racing

„yeah. i’m in here. hold on.“ he heard you groggily call out

his eyes closed in relief at the sound of your voice - having assumed the worst and he sighed shakily, dropping to sit on the edge your bed whilst he waited for you, running a hand through his hair to push it back

when you stepped out of the bathroom, his face understandably dropped

you looked so pale, so defeated

so fragile

he noticed the way you were fidgeting, an arm hidden behind your back - probably the reason he heard you shuffling around your bathroom. maybe in search of something to cover up?

he stood again, slowly approaching you. when you didn’t flinch away, he gently reached up a hand to caress your cheek

„did you bandage yourself up properly?“ he whispered, no hint of judgement in his tone - just worry

and alas, that is all it took for your eyes to brim with tears.

your lower lip shook as you quickly blinked up at him, shaking your head and releasing a heart-shattering sob as your boyfriend engulfed you into his arm - caging you into a protective hug

„it’s okay. will you let me help you?“ he whispered

a/n: hi again - i KNOW i disappeared for like 2 - 3 years but i’m about to finish my drafts and post them out, but i want to announce that requests are temporarily closed as i will no longer be writing about anime characters (unless i get an intense surge of inspiration), but there will be more explaining that in a separate post. for now, enjoy the drafts!

[binniebakery]

how to say I love you

Non Idol AU Taehyun x Fem!Reader Fluff! Established relationship ♡ Summary: sometimes you dont have to say the words "i love you" to get the point across ♡ Warnings: reader gets called a pretty girl/beautiful, taehyun being a cutie patootie, tooth rotting fluff! ♡ A/N: this is short!!! was originally gonna post kai next but since it was taehyun's bday (happy late birthday terrance) i had to cook something special up! i was worried about not being able to portray his personally correctly so im sorry if its a little ooc, please feel free to give me feedback on that <3 enjoy! ;w;

You were awoken by a pair of soft lips. "It's almost time for me to go, y/n" Taehyun mumbled against your forehead as the two of you lay in your bed on a lazy Monday evening. A shame really, you were taking the best nap of your life nestled into his chest as he watched a live soccer match on his phone. "Hey you, did you hear me pretty girl?" he nudged you at the lack of your response."Mmyeah.. I heard you. Just let me have this for a few seconds longer." You mumbled as you held your boyfriend tighter. Ignoring the soft sigh he let out, you focused on the soft fabric of his sweater. It was heaven with the combination of his scent and the warmth of his skin. Who needed a blanket when you had this all to yourself?

After about a minute of preparing for your favorite person's departure, you looked up to find that said person was dozing off himself.

"Sleepy baby.." you smiled admiring how someone who presented himself so seriously could look so endearing in a moment like this. This side of Taehyun was all yours. "Not a baby, but whatever you say." You caught the slightest smile appearing before his features became stern. "You know if I don't get home soon my parents won't like me coming over anymore" Taehyun scolded. "Yeah yeah, I know.." you responded reluctantly as you slowly arose from the comfort of your boyfriend's arms. You huffed as you fixed your now messy hair. Suddenly feeling how silent the room got, you realized Taehyun was still. Looking over to him you noticed he had an unreadable look on his face. "Tae?" you tilted your head at him. He was staring at you, and although you could barely see it, his dark eyes were sparkling. Eyes that were filled with so much love and endearment that they highly contrasted the seriousness of the rest of his features. Now self-conscious of how you looked, you rapidly began to brush down the rest of your hair with your fingers. "Hey, I know I look crazy but I just took a nap.. have mercy" you smiled nervously, not knowing what to do with the sudden attention. Taehyun grabbed your fingers softly and pulled them away towards his chest. "No, it's not that" he began. You could feel his heartbeat increasing the longer you stared at each other. "You just look so beautiful, it amazes me you manage to look so lovely no matter what you do" You felt warmth creep across your face. How was he able to say that with such a serious face? He said it like it was such a common fact that you were always aware of. "You- I- what?" you stuttered. Taehyun shook his head and let go of your hands to place his own on both sides of your face. "You're beautiful" he stared, right thumb softly caressing your cheek. "I appreciate you spending time with me like this, even if we aren't doing anything specifically together." In that moment it felt as if time had stopped as you and Taehyun softly breathed with with foreheads pressed. It was always your way of proclaiming your love for each other. No words needed to be said, all you had to do was look into those glimmering eyes and you could see things that words themselves couldn't express. You couldn't help the flustered smile that grew on your face. Nodding your head you leaned in to kiss his cheek. Taehyun stood from the bed and offered his hand for you to take as he helped you stand. Taehyun began softly tugging and fixing your his shirt, treating you with such care as if you were his own personal doll. "You should eat too, next time let's eat together okay?" "Mhm, I'll make us something next time you come over" You grinned. "Though for now I'm really gonna miss you.." "I know, I'll make it up to you, next time I'll see if I can spend the night" he smiled. "Hobak misses you, I'll be sure to send you lots of pictures when I get home, promise." your boyfriend said as he slipped his shoes on and you began unlocking the door for him.

"Sounds good thanks" you chuckled as you hugged him goodbye. "Text me as soon as you get home please" you mumbled as you inhaled his scent one final time. "You know I always will pretty girl." he patted your head and turned to his car. You waved as he drove off, smiling like an idiot leaning against the doorframe. Taehyun wasn't the type to say I love you too often. That never gave you any doubts at all though. After all, with the way he looks at you, the way he treats you, he's saying much more than that. He always managed to know how to get those words across without even saying them, even in saying "I love you".

[definitelynotshouting]

Hi I’m obsesseddddd with your hunger au and after reading the lore doc and the fic I have a couple questions if you don’t mind

Ok first off this isn’t really a question and more like a “huh wouldn’t that be fucked up” thought but uhhhh. So og grian was pretty much trapped in a box and constantly watched while the larva developed right. Did the watchers ever feed off him? Bc I imagine being trapped and just waiting to die wouldn’t be great for your emotional state. Or would they not since he is hosting the larva and that point so they can’t/wont feed on a host? Oh also you said that he made the deal to become a watcher while under duress. I imagine that duress could easily be heightened by some hungry watchers. And having your brain lightly fried would probably make you more susceptible to agreeing to a fucked up situation

And for my second question I was curious how aware the general populace/the hermits are of watchers?? Like are they a known thing and ppl just aren’t sure how they work or what. Because the rescue group had to puzzle out that grian was benefiting from their suffering in some way, but pearl seemed to have some idea of what grian was with the whole “eating our brains” bit so I’m curious what levels of knowledge they’re operating with here

Anyways thanks for reading my silly little thoughts on your amazing au!! It’s so fun I’m having such a good time with the horrible things happening

Im so glad you like the fic, anon!! :DD im always so touched when people tell me they enjoyed it enough to read the lore behind it-- gods ive gotta update that, there are a sizeable amount of newer asks i havent added to it yet, plus my beloved friend @/corvidaearts made a proper carrd for it on my birthday that i plan on replacing the google doc with!!! Just, uh, as soon as i add aforementioned posts dkcjsjdjfj

That would be super fucked up if they fed on him while he was trapped, OUGHHHH.... id say in canon probably not, because feeding off of one Player is really really dangerous for them, and Grian was now a host for their experiment to see if they could bring their population back up. If anything, nobody touched or interacted with him beyond the bare minimum it took to keep him safe from any potential respawns, and it was likely only the colony elders who even had direct access to him in the first place. THAT BEING SAID..... GODS THATS FUCKED UP I LOVE IT. And, well, i suppose one Watcher did feed on him.. which was Grian himself, as he emerged from his Player cocoon. Player!Grian's final moments of agony and terror were amplified to the max as his Watcher-self's very first meal, and that haunts Grian a lot late at night if he lets himself think about it

The duress he was placed under to become a host in the first place involved a significant amount of heightened emotional leverage though, thats for sure. One of these days i need to map out how exactly that went down, but i know that it involved an offer that was not actually an offer, several lies through omission, intimidation tactics that spanned the entirety of Evo in the first place, and using Grian's own fear-- both of them, and for his friends-- against him. Real fucked up situation all around 😔😔😔😔

General populace does not know much if anything about the Watchers!! The Watchers are, aside from this one colony, pretty much extinct; even before that, they relied quite a lot on camouflage and secrecy to keep their presence from being discovered, both by their prey and by the Seekers that hunted them.

Some very very old Players might know whispers of information-- rumors from the tail end of a game of telephone, as it were. And there are for sure a few individuals here and there who know of them due to personal experience (including the entire Evo crew, which was ofc a special case), but because Player information is not centralized in any capacity in this universe, the vast majority of Players have zero knowledge that Watchers even exist, let alone what they do and how they feed.

Pearl, with her previous knowledge and experience with Watchers and how they operated while involved with the Evo server, made some really good educated guesses about how Grian works and what's going on with him. And ofc everyone on Hermitcraft, plus all the lifers, knows that Grian at the very least can manipulate Player emotions to an extreme degree-- putting those context clues together, you can piece together quite a few connections. She doesn't have the full picture, but at this point in time she's basically figured out a good chunk of it. The rest will have to come from Grian himself >:]

[eveningepiphany]

welcome to the final show | H.S, part 2

the girlies asked so I deliver!

read part one here, or check out my masterlist!

summary: after the accidental cafe run in, harry and y/n have wound up with each others numbers. and are quick to go from casual texting to organising another time to meet up. including a cafe trip and an unexpected ice creamery visit.

warnings: fluff, swearing, minor mentions of alcohol, nothing too heavy, just our lovely italyrry who is the sweetest ever.

a/n: thank you all so so much for the incredible amount of support on the first part of this official series. and also for your patience in waiting for me to hurry up and post an update. i know it’s been like 2 weeks since the first part, but I really wanted to give you something i took my time working on <3

———

There’s a certain type of disbelief that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.

It’s the kind that you feel straight to your core. That randomly dumps on you during the day like a bucket of water, and leaves your head spinning like that very bucket came crashing down with it.

It happens in a single moment, but lingers for a long time after the fact.

That’s exactly how you felt after harry texted you first. Because not even a few hours later after you’d exchanged numbers, he sent you through, not only a message, but a photo of all things.

One that made your heart swell with its endearing qualities.

A photo of a plate, filled with the food you’d told him earlier that day was one of your favourites.

Sent with a further little message below it,

Your favourite is currently up for grabs at the family gathering. H

The way he’d signed his intial off at the bottom had you nearly throw your phone across the room at how adorable it was.

Like as if you didn’t even know who you were texting.

Again it strewn your thought— is he aware the kind of mental effect this is having on you? Because you’re borderline going to need to phone for an ambulance.

You’re a simple person. A fangirl, to say the least. This shit, despite being able to say ‘I’ve met and talked with Harry Styles for more than 10 minutes’ does not just disappear.

And you had promised yourself not to tell anyone that this had happened— or was happening? Because there would be nothing worse than this somehow ending up online.

And not to treat him like a flighty deer instead of a grown man, but you would hate for that to place a kind of distrust in his hands.

However, all of that self-agreement doesn’t take away the nagging voice in your head that just wants to tell at the very least your immediate friends and family.

But you’re proud to say— after a long 2 minutes of pacing around your hotel room— you manage to craft a reply back.

Well, only after a few rough and undeniably embarrassing drafts that quickly get deleted out of the text bar.

You’re back to sitting on the floor against the bed frame, facing the window looking out on the gorgeous colours of the evening Italian sky.

Heart pounding, and you’re sure this scene from a third person perspective would look like it was pulled from a hallmark movie.

Girl fawning over man’s simple text. Kicking her feet in the glow of Italian sun, with a glass of wine on the floor next to her.

You stared at your finalised message and decided if you didn’t send it now, you would spiral into a never ending pit of doubt. And just end up overthinking the whole thing.

So you just did it. And now on the screen, under his blue message, was your own grey one.

there’s no way. it looks so good! im gonna see if it’s on my room service menu tbh. consider me inspired.

You bit your knuckles. Acting up like a fucking teenager. Waiting for the shock to subside before you actually get up to find the hotel menu.

After you replied back, you were sweating, honestly. Anxious at the fact you had just sent a text to Harry Styles. And unlike a conversation, that shit is permanent. So too bad if it comes off embarrassing.

Which of course, it didn’t on his end. Unbeknownst to you, he almost physically gleamed at sight of your name on his screen for the first time.

You’d nearly dropped your glass of wine when your phone vibrated up on the counter of the hotels kitchen where it was charging.

It’d been about half an hour from when you replied, you’d since ordered room service and sat in your bed to watch tv.

You made sure to place your glass elsewhere as you ran over to grab your phone.

If it wasn’t already all gone I’d save you some. Any luck with the room service?

You’d replied back swiftly, disregarding any kind of waiting to text back rule. You were all too eager to wait.

i managed to score some up from the room service. didn’t look as appetising as yours, but it was still enjoyed. x

And at this, he smiled, looking at the Italian sunset as he thought of you with a curiosity he recognised as all too unhealthy.

———

If you had told yourself two days ago in that cafe, that you have had several full conversations with harry after getting his number… you probably would have laughed.

Yet its not a joke of any kind. You can pinch yourself over and over again looking at those texts, but all you’ll end up with is a bruise and they will be just as real.

But as you read over the most recently received one, pinching would have not been enough of a reality check.

Maybe a frying pan? Probably would do the trick.

You scanned over his words, rubbing your eyes like you were tired and seeing shit— even though you’d been awake since 9am, which was 2 hours ago.

Unless you have plans, I’m going to try this cafe a friend recommended me a while back, if you wanted to tag along?

[ 1 attachment link]

And there’s simply no way that this is happening? But after 30 seconds without a follow up text telling you he’s accidentally sent this to the wrong person, you sit up straight.

Well, you’re not about to ask him if he’s serious right now, so you channel every fibre of casualness left within you and use it to construct a response.

id love to! I’ll get ready to go soon if you want to meet there before 12:30?

That works perfectly. did you need a lift, or are you in walking distance. I can pick you up if you need.

You almost keel over at his offer, and the absolute gentleman move he just made.

You also realise you didn’t even look where the cafe was. Because if Harry Styles asks you to go somewhere with him the answer should always be yes. Figure out the means of getting there and back later.

Either way you open the link and get taken to google maps, and the cafe in question is literally a 10 minute walk away from you.

im in walking distance, it’s about 10 minutes away. so I’ll just make my way there at about 12:15! thank you for the lovely offer though.

And you move as quickly as possible from your bed to your suitcase, ready to tear that thing apart for an outfit.

You don’t want to be over the top, but you have to go with something on the shorter side because it’s already in the high 20’s and it’s not even afternoon yet. So you lug out the many summer dresses you crammed in there, hoping that one of them will strike your interest.

Some get tossed back into your bag as you filter through them, not making the cut for a variety of reasons— like showing too much of your cleavage.

Yea, a good few of them get ruled out for that reason.

But eventually— and thank god, because you were starting to loose hope— you find one that is perfect for the occasion. It’s all types of flowy and comfortable, but still maintains the pretty connotation that summer dresses are known for.

Before putting it on, you go into the bathroom and do your morning routine— fixing your hair as a final step, but deciding to leave it out since there is hardly any wind outside to make it a mess. Plus it will suit the dress.

You somehow managed to take long enough that the next time you look at your phone you realise it’s nearing 12:15pm a lot faster than you expected. So you hustle to get the rest of your shit together, and make your way out the door.

The walk there is as peaceful as you could imagine, just the sounds of chatter from passer-by’s and birds lingering in trees dotting the sidewalk.

But on the inside you are still panicking. The last time you’d meet him in a cafe was a total surprise. This time it’s planned, and that leaves too much room for your brain to overthink it.

As you finally push through the doors of the cafe you had found your way to, a tiny bell above jingles. But you’re hardly focused on it as you look to the front counter.

Seeing the exact person you were here for already grabbing two drinks from a barista at what you can only assume is a pickup counter.

As he spins around, he catches your momentary surprise, complimented by flushed cheeks. To this he smiles and nods you over with his head.

He looked excited to see you. Like a longtime pair of friends meeting up again after a while apart.

Your feet kick back into gear at his nod, following him over to a table that’s tucked into the corner. He had his pleasing bag slung across the top of the chair.

“Hi lovely,” he says the minute you’re close enough to hear his deep voice.

“Hi Harry.” You smile, heart still beating too fast. The words feeling different as they get spoken from your mouth.

He walks the few steps around the table, closing the gap still between you— and he doesn’t wait for you to hug him, he just pulls you straight into the warmth of his arms.

Wrapping you up in a way that you can smell the cologne lingering on the dip of his neck into his shoulder.

His accent is muffled by your hair as he talks gently, “how’ve you been?”

The common question has your head reeling. In its simplicity is still sweetness.

You pull back, his eyes training on yours, looking keenly at you, awaiting an answer from your almost shy lips.

“I— yes, I’ve been really good thank you.” You nod, how could you not be? Look where your standing, who you’re standing with.

“What about you…?” You ask, watching as the corners of his pink mouth upturn.

He’s freshly shaven, you notice, and your fingers twitch with the need to glide over the smooth skin of his cheek.

You resist as he answers, still relatively closer than you should be out in a public place.

“I’m doing well, even better now.” He raises his eyebrows, a cheeky grin coming on his face.

He revels in blood that rushes into your cheeks, reddening them up like you’ve just run a mile.

“Oh, stop it. You’re a bloody flirt.” You roll your eyes in an attempt to play it off, and you also take a step back to seat yourself in the chair at the table he’d picked.

Maybe he was a flirt at most times. But from his perspective, with you in a dress like that? Not to sound like he’s drawing on the one direction lyrics, but as if you don’t know you’re beautiful.

I mean, sure, he thinks you’re aware that you’re pretty. But in the way it’s working him up, you seem to be clueless.

Because he’s almost stumbling on his words at the sight of you, soft fabric flowing seamlessly over your tan skin, cutting off above your knees leaving him with thoughts that he should not be having in a public space.

But at the same time, he tries to convince himself it’s nothing but a wholesome coincidental friendship. Even though if at any point tabloids get a hold of this, it will be very very far from that.

You’re watching as he looks a little caught up in thought, and you chuckle at it.

The sweet noise breaks him out of it, and he’s grateful for that. It was a rabbit hole he was happy to just not go down right now.

“Can’t help it,” he shrugs, going over to his own seat.

“Now, i need the full story of what happened with your friends luggage at the Singapore airport?”

You let out a laugh, a little surprised he even remembers to bring it up. You had been texting about travel, and told him the time your friend had her luggage lost in a layover between Singapore and London last month.

“I mean, where did it leave it off?” You had explained a partial amount of the story. But told him, if you’d planned another cafe trip it would be a lot easier to explain the ins and outs.

And he was overly excited to watch you tell the tale. Watch the way your hands moved as you animatedly told the story, and the way your eyes get a little lost in thought.

He caught tiny glimpses of it the first time you’d met, but he craved to watch it happen in full. Among other things.

You told him how you’d had 12 hour layover, but that you guys didn’t want to book a hotel since they were so expensive. But you were still meant to collect your luggage— and everyone else but your friend Bonnie got it back.

“She’s Scottish, crazy red hair and she is like a fire cracker. She was actually at the last show, in the front with us, but anyway— so she’s running around Singapore airport accosting all the staff with her stressed out and angry Scottish accent.”

You went back and forth with the many fuck arounds of that day, how you went from halfway across the airport to a misplaced baggage unit per a staffs advice, only for the lady at the front desk to say it wasn’t there— and to go back to the support centre.

“It was not funny at the time,” you said, “but fuck, looking back now it’s pretty good. And it makes a fun story to tell.”

“So where did she actually get her stuff back?” He asks, frowning with a curious smile.

“Oh, like 6 hours after we originally got off the plan. They’d told us to wait up at that little customer support place and after like another hour and a half, some really frazzled guy came running up with it.”

And you laughed at the image in your head, sweaty and looked terrified he’d gotten the wrong bag, “We asked where it had gotten lost, but he just asked if it was certainly ours, then when we said yes he nodded and practically ran the other way.”

Harry was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt.

“God, is that quite a story.”

“See why I said texting it would have been way too hard.” You amend, reaching for the deserted cup of tea you hadn’t even drank out of yet, taking a sip.

Exactly how you like it, and you smile. Watching him watch you drink it.

“Just how you like it, yea?” He asks to confirm. But also lost a little in the way the liquid seamlessly travels from the cup down your throat.

“Yea, perfect.” You nod, clutching the warm cup between your hands, tongue swiping out over your lips.

“Anyways, what about your own crazy travel stories. Since you’ve done plenty of it.” You prompt, unaware of his remaining gaze.

The afternoon went of just like that. Telling stories and sharing funny little anecdotes that had you laughing so hard that tears were about to spill from your waterline.

You slowly forget that it’s Harry Styles you’re sitting with. And of course that sounds weird. But it’s like there came a certain point in the afternoon where he just became simply Harry.

Nothing more, nothing less.

It had been a rather long time you sat in that same cafe with him. So much that the chairs, originally very comfortable, had started to become the opposite as time flew on.

“Are these chairs starting to hurt your ass too?” He asks, humour lacing his tone as he watches you adjust yourself in the chair for the third time in the last 10 minutes.

“Yea, the metal seats are lowkey not it.” At this he laughs, the way you word things somehow being more entertaining than most.

“Well, cmon, I already paid, we can go for a walk if you want?” He rises from his place, and you’ve never stood up quicker.

“Braving the Italian sun at its very brightest are we?” You joke, smiling as he grabs his bag and slings it over one of his broad shoulders.

“Could be a big regret, could also be very scenic.” He says as you grab both your empty cups.

“I forgot to put sunscreen on as well, so might have a different colour forehead to the rest of my body but… oh well.” he shurgs, following you over to the small bin by the cafe door.

You’re immediately thinking of the time he went to a show after going out golfing and he had a sunburnt head.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” And it takes you by surprise that the teasing words made it out of your mouth.

Yet, he seems happily indifferent to it, like it’s of course something you’d know, “Whatever you.”

Your laughing at his response as you hold the door open for him, exiting the cafe into the heat.

A tortured sigh is let out of you both at the swelter of it. The concrete pavement doing nothing but intensify it.

“I underestimate the weather every day here, I’m wearing too many layers of clothing to be dealing with this.”

“Take your hoodie off you dolt.”

He usually keeps layers on so that his tattoos are less visible. Since they’re often a dead giveaway of who he is. So his hands hesitates as they slip to the hem of his jumper.

“Don’t tell me you went out with just a jumper on, no other layers. In Italy?” You shake your head, still smiling as you slowly walk into the shaded part of the sidewalk.

“No— I did.” He laughs, “just m’tattoos usually garner some attention.”

He clarifies, “that sounded really egotistical, not the tattoos themselves, I meant people recognise me easier when they’re out.”

“Oh!” You stumble a little in your thought process. Feeling a little silly for not realising.

“I kind of like… forgot?” You say, coming to a stop as he eventually succumbs to the heat and peels the jumper over his head. Folding it up and popping it into his bag, glancing at you with a tiny breathe of relief at his new found ventilation. Hands moving to tousle with his hair in attempt to flatten it after pulling the jumper over it.

“I mean, i did. too honestly.” He agrees, continuing to walk forward.

You read into that a million different ways. But he makes sure you don’t get confused, “Y/N, don’t look so worried. I just mean you’re a very easy person to get… i dunno, lost in.”

Oh okay? How does one just casually continue putting one foot in front of the other after someone says something like that?

“You flatter me too much.” You roll your eyes, still as awful as ever at masking your shock or adoration for something someone’s said.

“Cmon, you’re just too humble i think.” He bumps you with his shoulder.

You’re laughing at him. But stop dead in your tracks as you stop something across the road.

“H.” You say, and he also comes to a halt. Taking a moment to process your use of his nickname. Like the way it so gently came from you.

Yet you sound almost dire, so he’s looking over where you are, scanning the sunny street for something that could possibly concern you?

For a moment he thinks it may be paparazzi, but this side of town is usually much better in regards to that.

He feels protective of you, “What? Are you okay?”

“There’s ice cream over there.” You say, hand coming up to cover your mouth a little.

A breath of relief fills his lungs, “i— you made it out like this was a life or death situation about t’unfold.”

Your expression turns to a grin, “no, i just love Italian ice creameries!”

“Can we please go and get some?” You glance back to him, and his own smile widens at your face. Gleaming with this unfiltered excitement over something so simplistic.

“Of course we can.” And you’re immediately grabbing his wrist to tug him across the road towards the shop.

“As if I could say no to you, anyway.” He laughs as he keeps up with your quick pace, clearly on a mission.

Once inside the store, with its pink and mint coloured walls and decor, you move to look at the collection of flavours.

The staples such as vanilla and strawberry, but then a small selection of more slightly diverse ones, like peanut butter brownie or salted caramel.

Their cookie dough ice cream looks amazing though, filled with chocolatey chunks of cookie. So you decide relatively fast that’s what you want.

And then you turn to Harry, whose eyes are still darting between flavours indecisively.

“What one do you want?” You ask, and he adverts his eyes to you.

“No I’ll order.” He shakes his head.

“No-no. Let me get this for you, please.” He goes to protest and you nudge him with your elbow, “don’t be stubborn. I want to get you something.”

“I— fine. But know you’re just as pushy as i am.” He scoffs with a laugh.

“I’ll get… maybe chocolate?” He points to it, and you nod.

The older lady at the counter is overly lovely, and you’re rattling off your order to her with a beaming smile.

Harry watches your interaction with her, and how you take a moment to compliment the heart covered apron she was wearing.

His heart trips over it’s own rhythm at the sight.

You pays and he still feels a little guilty, but figures he can make it up to you next time they go out by getting you a cookie or two with your tea.

You come back to his side with the two cones, stacked two scoops tall, and hand one to him.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to though.”

“It’s fine, Harry. Do you wanna find somewhere outside to sit?” You ask, turning to wave at the lady who served you as your slowly exiting the shop.

“Sure, i saw that little bench under a tree a couple shops down near that park.” He nods, taking his turn to lead the way there.

You shortly find the way there, sitting yourselves down on it, looking out onto a small playground with some kids swinging on monkey bars and sliding down the slide.

“Italian ice cream will forever be the best kind of ice cream.” You sigh out with pleasure, licking over the cool scoop.

He unwittingly is blushing at the sight, suddenly batting away mental images at the sight of your pink tongue jutting out of your mouth.

Shaking his head, he pushes them aside. “Definitely. You can tell it’s handmade.”

He busies his own tongue on his own ice cream, only stealing occasional glances to you at his side.

But he can’t help but tilt his cone to you, “Wanna try the chocolate?”

His offer comes as the equivalent of a brick to the head, but you’re invested in making yourself not seem psychotic.

So you nod nonchalantly, “i will, but I have a feeling that’s just because you want some of mine.”

“Mm, maybe I do a little.” He agrees, but any other coherent thought dies where it was in his head at you leaning over to his own cone. Your tongue running over the ice cream, collecting up its sweet residue.

You nod, “That’s so good.” Acting like you’ve got a normal internal monologue right now. Even though she’s hurling things at you that you can’t all process in such a short flash of time.

You just put your mouth where his has been! He is about to do the same thing! His eyes look a little blown out! What the fuck!

Pretty much what it sounds like up there, along with some alarm bells and screaming.

However you just gesture your cone to him, taking mental images of him mirroring what you did just before.

He hums a sound of enjoyment as he pulls back, glancing up at you, pinning you with his green gaze. “Good choice.”

You agree with a slight mumble, shaking your head momentarily to clear your thoughts. Ready to change the subject so you can internally recollect yourself.

“I only regret sitting out here since it’s melting so fucking fast.”

“I know,” he also settles quickly back into the normality of the moment, “i cant eat it quicker than the rate it’s melting.”

“It’s cold though, which is at least a win.”

Conversation trails on as normal while you finish off the ice cream. Discussing if biting the bottom off an ice cream cone is normal or not.

And before you know it you check your phone when you get a text from your mum, asking what time you’re able to call tonight.

She misses you heaps, you can tell. But despite the timezone difference you are making it work.

You also glance up at the time and realise it’s nearing 4pm. And you have just spent majority of the afternoon with Harry.

You also realise you’d agreed to have dinner with all of your friends in one of their hotel rooms tonight.

“Seems like it’s my turn to have to be the one to bail.” You say, popping your phone in your back pocket and looking back at Harry.

“That’s okay, love, what’s the plans for the evening.”

You explain that you’ll go over the the girls hotel room and probably just eat pizza, and then go back to your own room and call your mum for a bit.

He feels a little sad you even have to leave, which is odd, but he nods anyway, “That sounds fun. Solid plan.”

You reluctantly rise from your seat next to him. “So…” you take a tiny breath in, “am I the one picking the next cafe we go to?”

He beams internally at the fact you’re also trying to plan the next time you’re able to meet up with each other.

“I reckon so, Angel.” He stands as well, “I’m good for any day.”

Any plans he has can be rearranged for you.

“Alright!” You feel better immediately knowing you can see him again soon.

“Thanks for the ice cream too, by the way.” He says, walking back over to the pathway with you.

“It’s okay.” You smile, nervously being the one to give him a goodbye hug. A small flutter erupts in your stomach as his hands pull you flush to him around your lower back.

“I’ll see you soon, mkay?”

“Yea. Ill talk to you later.” You remind yourself that he’s easily accessible to talk to. You literally have his number.

“Bye H.” You give him a squeeze, pulling away with a smile, “Bye Y/N.” And you wave as you start the walk back to your hotel. Plenty of things to think about.

———

“Did you guys see the supposed pics of harry today on harryflorals? He was hanging out with someone apparently!” Nina asks everyone.

Only two of you hadn’t, including yourself.

She passes the phone first to you, and you frown.

“I know, looks like it’s taken on a potato.” She says, assuming your furrowed brows are due to the fact the image is really hard to get anything from.

Unless you know that park bench he’s ‘allegedly’ sitting on. And that the blurry figure next to him is almost certainly you— but no one else can tell.

“Yea… shit that is…” You pause, brain freezing a little, “bad quality.”

You hand her phone back. But caption of the post still festering in your head long after the moment is over.

HARRY *SUPPOSEDLY* WITH A GIRL IN ITALY TODAY! but this is the only pic we got 💔

———

ahh and that’s part two! I hope you guys are enjoying this, and I’m so excited to write more about these two. cant wait for you to see what’s in store for them.

thank you again for your patience while waiting for this second part, and to all the lovely people who requested this oneshot to be made into something more.

taglist:

@harrystylesgirlie @purple9950 @teamspideyman @rociolunaa21 @spiritofbuddha @lemonhrry @deamus-liv @lquvlly @kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @hsfanficsrecss

+ all the anons who sent stuff to my submission box, thank you to you guys too, all my love