#LOVE YOU GUYS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

harrystylesfan2686 · 3 months

Text

Alone

Pairing: no one really.

Summary: Reader starts to feel left out in her own family...

Warnings: Neglection. Suicide thoughts. Self harm (in detail) please go back if any of these bother you. Your mental heath matters more.

A/N: I think I need therapy too...

Masterlist Part 2(Azriel) Part 2(Eris)

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

Ever wondered what it's like to be alone?

It's a game, really. A game of utter self degradation. A game where there are only two players, you and your mind. A game where you never truly win and you always have to keep playing because your brain never tires.

A game which no one else realizes your playing until you lose and it's too late.

It's the game you have been playing ever since the Archerons joined the inner circle. You love them all, honestly. Thier different personalities was the first thing that drew you to them. You admir all three of them but the one thing you hate is how you got left alone after their involvement to your life.

Before them, you all relied on all of you for company and support. Now, everybody has their own person.

Rhysand has Feyre, Cassian has Nesta, Azriel has Elain, and Mor and Amren have found thier partners too but in case they aren't present, Mor and Amren, as crazy as it sounds, rely on each other. Just like that, everybody has a person to go home to, to come back safely for, to turn to for comfort.

You don't have anyone.

You hate going home because your bed is always empty. You hate going on missions because you know no one would be worrying about you every minute you gone. You hate celebrations because you have no one to dance with, to drink with, to end the day with.

You love family dinners. Even though you never get a chance to speak, even though you never talk to anyone, even though no one notices your presence. You love family dinners and meetings because it's the only time youre not alone.

It's doesn't matter if you're lonely, at least you aren't alone.

But in the game you're playing with yourself, after a while, you get too tired to challenge back with same force. You don't push back the mean thoughts your mind throws at you as insults. You listen to them, compare them to your situation and realise, you've been trying to win for nothing.

You slowly stop trying to protect yourself all together.

The first time you didn't go to a family dinner, you thought you would regret it later but you didn't, instead you felt glad that you didn't go because no one had come to get you, no one came to ask why you didn't show, no one cared about you enough to think why you didn't go.

So you stopped going at all.

You stopped doing everything with you 'family' and prefered being left alone.

You only met them when you had a mission together or anything related to work.

Just like that, today you had gone to one of the Illyrian camps at Rhys orders. He got report saying things haven't been going as they should there and wanted you to go check. But on your way back you had been ambushed by a group of six men wanting to kill you in the camp, they couldn't of course but you did come out of the fight with a large sward wound on your left side.

All you wanted to do was go home, rest, tend to your wound and sleep. You can give the report to Rhys tomorrow.

You let out a grunt and step in your house, immediately tense seeing a shadow of a person move the dark room. Your hand placing itself in your dagger straped to your thigh, you other hand on the left side of your waist pressing on your wound.

"Relax, it's just me." A familiar voice fills the silence as the fae lights turn on and Rhysands face becomes visible. You sigh in relief and furrow your eyebrows,"What you doing so late in my house?" You nearly snap, but hold back as respect for your high lord.

"You came late you were suppose to be here two hours ago." For minute it feels like he cares for you, and you allow yourself to believe that he was worried for you but you fantasy shatters the second he opens his mouth again. "You were supposed to deliver your report two hours ago. You know how important this is, I have other things to do too." His voice sharp as he scolds you.

"You're right, I'm sorry. I got attacked while leaving, it took time to fight them of. It was six against one but well I managed to survive, eh?" Rhysand's scowl deepens. "Tell me what happened there now."

Your eyes closs for a second whem you feel dizzy. "Look, how about you give me ten minutes to freshen up, and I also have a wound to–," You try to say but he cuts you off saying,"I don't have more time. Tell me right now what happened so I can get started on fixing things, then you can have all the time to fresh up as you want. My office, now." He doesn't leave much to room to argue and winnows you to his office.

You sigh and start speaking, repeating everything you noticed in the camp as Rhysand listens and writes down the report. Near the end, you feel another wave of dizziness hit you and put your head down to rest it against the backrest of your chair and groan when you feel pain shoot up from your injury from the movement.

Rhysand finally notices the source of your pain and his eyes flare,"You're hurt?" You scoff. "Yes. That's what I was trying to tell you before you winnowed us here."

"I didnt notice it. I'm sorry, you should go tend to it." He quickly dismisses you, finally letting you go back to your house.

As you look at yourself in the mirror, thinking how filthy and hideous you seem, you grit your teeth. Of course no one notices you. Look at you. You are ugly and filled with dirt and scars all over your body.

How could anyone look at you when you can't even look at yourself.

Your gaze falls to your wound, the big cut that spread from under you left breast to the start of your thigh. If was deep enough to bleed you dry.

Would anyone even notice if you did? If you don't heal and let the injury bleed you dead. Would anyone know that you were gone? That your body layed unmoving in the bathroom floor. How long would it take for someone to find you? Who would find you? Probably Rhysand when he needs you for his next mission.

You eye your dagger that you unshielded on your way in the bathroom. How long would it take for you to bleed out? Hours? Days? You didn't want that. That was too much. You don't think you can handle that much pain constantly. Maybe if you took that dagger and deepen your cut, you would bleed out faster. Maybe you would have a faster death. Sure it would hurt but at least you would be gone before someone found you.

You would be free. Free of the loneliness. Free of the feeling like you were a burden in everyone's life. Free of wanting Someone to care for you the way you see everyone else care for their loved ones. You would finally be at peace.

You gasp and blink out the terrible thoughts. Breathing heavy, you search for the cotton and Healing cream in the cupboards. You groan out with you don't find any of them.

You turn back to the mirror. Maybe your brain is right. Maybe this is a sign from Mother herself telling you to not let the wound heal and die right here, right now. Your gaze finds the knife again, eyeing the sharp edge. Would it really be that bad?

Your hand grips the handle of the dagger, bringing it closer to the cut. You let the cold mettle edge scrap the skin, an inch afar the start of the cut. The sharp edge slicing through skin like paper, leaving a line of crimson red blood, seeping out of the newly cut skin.

Your eyes widen as you observe yourself, keeping the knife near the cut but not touching it entirely.

It's... mesmerizing. The way blood slowly comes out of the skin, the small and steady lines created by your dagger are engrossing. And the pain, the pain is hypnotizing, slowing raising to the rest of your body. Your body feels electrified, there's snips of pain tingling through out your entire body, your ears buzzing with excitement. Your hands are shaking and eyes bluring but all you can focus on is how much you want to do this again. Feel your skin open beneath you knife again. Feel the pain that slowing raises with each extra inch of cut.

Oh gods. What have you done?

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fandom #acotar x reader #acotar angst #angst #tw: sucidal thoughts #tw: self loathing #tw: self half #your mental health matters #love you guys #azriel x reader #rhysand x reader #cassian x reader #inner circle x reader #eris x reader

734 notes · View notes

psychopacifist-rm · 3 months

Text

Non-standard medicine from X-Twitter

You guys are insane and amazing, you stuffed my ask box whole in two days, shit🤣🥶

#art #sketch #thanks for the question!#16 questions are you serious??#love you guys #buckshot roulette fanart #buckshot roulette art #buckshot roulette game #buckshot roulette dealer #buckshot roulette #horror game #the dealer #game art #creepy creature #horror creature #creature art

477 notes · View notes

hasello · 3 months

Text

I went snowboarding! Surprisingly I was pretty good at it, it was very fun.

Also my exams are over!! So I’m back and can focus on turtle content FINALLY 🐢

#rottmnt #digital #tmnt #fanart #leonardo hamato #snowboard #procreate #tmnt leonardo #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #every time I do something cool I gotta draw it #that’s just how my brain is lmao #im back #love you guys

465 notes · View notes

tusks-and-claws · 11 months

Text

The Death of Peace of Mind

Miguel O’hara x female reader

Summary: "I miss the way you say my name/the way you bend, the way you break"

You think your fearless leader needs help relaxing, but another door is opened entirely

Tags/warnings: smut (18+), oneshot, fingering, blowjob, pronebone, blood, biting, unprotected sex, paralytic venom, dominant Miguel, dirty talk, God there’s so much to list : )

Word count: 3.3k

Can also be found on Ao3 here. Please give it some love if you enjoyed ;_;

"I know better than this, I shouldn't be… we shouldn't be doing this."

Miguel O'Hara sat at the edge of your bed, your room softly illuminated by a candle on the bedside table. He liked the dark. His back was to you, his broad shoulders slumped forward, as you had your back against your headboard. He was still in his suit, his mask off.

"Miguel…" you said, starting this conversation again for the umpteenth time. "You have needs, too, y'know."

He waved a hand dismissively. "What are my needs when compared to all this?" He gestured to nothing. You weren't even at HQ. You were both in your dimension. A vacation, you had said. You could never get him to leave HQ for long. "I know what happens when I try to get what I want. When I go where I don't belong."

You furrowed your brow. "But you do belong here, I invited you."

"You know exactly what I mean." He spoke quickly. Trying to expel the words as fast as possible.

Your arms crossed over your chest as you eyed him. He'd been through a lot, yes, but what Spider hadn't? How long was he going to keep ignoring himself for the greater good? What purpose would he serve if he tore himself apart?

"You're right," you said, finally.

"What?" He asked, peering over his shoulder to look at you, incredulous.

"You're right," you repeated. "You can leave."

"I… well. I suppose I can leave. Do you… want me to?"

You suppressed a smile. "I don't really care," you lied.

"You…?" He turned around at that, hands on the bed as he swiveled his torso to meet your eyes. "You can't be serious. I- I made the effort to make sure Jess could cover me so we could come here, I… it's a huge waste of time. You see that, don't you?"

"I guess so." It was hard for you to break eye contact with him, but you managed to do it, and stared pointedly out the window.

"You 'guess,' I can't-" he rubbed his face with his hands. "You're so frustrating, I can't read you, you-"

Your face broke, betraying you, a smirk cracking your façade.

He narrowed his eyes, fully turning around now, bringing his knees up onto the bed to crawl to you. His claws came out, and they pulled at the threads of your comforter, threatening to tear holes. "Is this what you want? You want to make me mad?"

You blushed as he made his way to you, his sudden intensity stirring you into silence.

"Well?" He asked. "Suddenly so quiet." He reached you now, looming over you with both hands on the headboard on either side of you, his muscular thighs straddling your legs. His huge frame took up your whole vision, his presence overwhelming your heightened senses. Heat was radiating from his body. His scent washed over you. He was all clean musk and warmth and something deeper, something primal. It played to your baser mind, telling you to lose control and give in.

You swallowed. "You have no need to stay here." You weren't done teasing him just yet.

"But you have need, hm?" He looked down to study your form, releasing his hands from the headboard to touch the hem of your shirt. "Don't you?"

You held your breath, nodding.

"Say it." His tone was casual. Flippant.

Your breath left you as your lips parted to speak, the words far from you as your brain grew foggy. He always liked to hear you admit how much you wanted it, how much you wanted him. And he always asked you when he knew you'd struggle to form a response.

"Yes." It was the only thing your brain made abundantly clear. Yes. Yes, you have needs. Yes, in this moment, he was one of them.

"Yes what?"

How cruel. Under his gaze for this long, intense and bloodshot, you grew more flustered and delirious.

"Yes, Miguel, I have need of you." You impressed yourself with the eloquence of your reply.

"Oh? Oh, do you?" His hands finally moved again, snaking under the bottom of your shirt, the fabric of his suit keeping your skin from touching his. "That's kind of selfish of you, isn't it?"

You nodded, biting your bottom lip and closing your eyes as his hands moved to firmly hold the sides of your waist, thumbs stroking soft skin. He was being careful to not scratch you. Though his claws were retractable, you noticed throughout your encounters that he had a hard time keeping them hidden when his passions were running high. But part of you didn't care if he marked you up. Part of you wanted to keep something from him. Something more than awkward passing glances and intimate encounters that were few and far between.

"M-Miguel?"

"Mm? What is it?"

"You don't need to be gentle, y’know."

His gaze flicked to meet yours as he raised an eyebrow. He seemed amused.

"It's just that," for some reason, you felt the need to elaborate. "I'm strong, too. I can handle it. You've been so stressed."

"So… you want me to use you?" His voice was low and level.

Use. The word sent a shock up your spine. He could see the emotions flashing across your face, the thoughts of him, of what he might do to you. Was this safe? Could he control himself? He'd have to. You'd just have to trust him.

You released a breath you hadn't noticed you were holding, meeting him in his bloodshot eyes. "Yes. Please."

He grinned, bearing his pearly fangs in the flickering candlelight. The fog in your head grew thicker at the sight of them. Would he bite you with them? How would they feel against your skin? How would they feel piercing you? Would it hurt? Would it-

The feeling of his bare forefinger, claw retracted, gently teasing your slit quickly shut you up. When did he move his hand under the hem of your shorts? You were so deep within your own clouded thoughts, you hadn't even noticed. He caressed you there before carefully plunging his finger into your heat. The feeling was immediately maddening. You bit your lip to keep yourself from asking for more, for another finger, for his mouth, for his- no. You were following his pace. This was what you wanted, yes, but it was mostly for him. You somehow knew that he needed this more than you did, though he'd never admit it.

The whole time, he kept his reddened eyes on your face, studying every reaction. "You're wet, you're so wet…." His voice was quiet. "So, this is what does it for you, huh?" He pumped his finger at a steady pace. You could hear the wet sounds he elicited with his efforts. You braced yourself on his hulking shoulders, preparing for him to quicken at any moment. But he was agonizingly slow. His free hand gripped the headboard above you as he leaned down to whisper into your ear. "Me, your leader, using you." There was that word again. You lightly arched your back into him upon hearing it, trying to keep yourself calm for now. Falling apart could come later. "I try so hard to hold it all together. But you… you threaten me. The looks you give me, your smiles, your smell, estoy cachondo, fuck." Your eyes widened. He only spoke Spanish when his emotions were heightened. He was unraveling.

Good.

He slipped his digit out from inside of you and circled your clit with a slick fingertip. The feeling was intense and electric, and even though you were still half-pinned by his muscular thighs, your upper body curled into him. "Seeing you like this…" he swallowed, his heartbeat quickening. "Rendering you helpless… It's revenge for how you make me feel when you look at me the way you do. If I can make you feel half of that… that might be enough. You're going to come for me. Feel what I feel."

You nodded fervently, unable to speak under his attention, his words, his touch. That delicious, warm feeling was building up and coiling in your core as he kept expertly circling your clit, until the coil finally snapped and you came, lifting up off of the bed and throwing your arms around his neck as you whimpered. Miguel continued as you rode it out, reveling in the newfound wetness that came with your orgasm, until you finally settled down, your heart still thumping in your chest. You released your hold of him, your arms weak, your gaze heavy. He seemed to match your labored breathing, his chest rising and falling in time with yours. You had hardly even touched him and he seemed as much of a mess as you were.

He stared at you like that for a brief moment, seemingly awestruck at your reaction to this newly opened door.

"God, I need… I need your mouth around my cock." He flipped unceremoniously off of you to lay on his back at your side. "Come here." Before you had time to react, he had a hand on your head, guiding you downward. Despite the forceful movement, he fondly scratched at your scalp with bare fingers, his hand shaking just enough for you to notice. You positioned yourself so your head rested on his hard abdominals while you admired the display he brought you down to see. His hard cock pushed against his nearly metallic suit. The sheen of the fabric left almost nothing to the imagination. You could see his thick shaft, prominent veins like rivers flowing over a landscape, all leading up to the bulbous head. He twitched eagerly as he sighed, trying to calm his heart.

You reached your hand up to touch Miguel through his suit, and his reaction was bodily. He hissed a breath in through clenched teeth. You played with his hard length, running the flat of your palm up and down the underside of his shaft, until he couldn't take it anymore. He seemed to be able to dismiss parts of his suit at will, and he did just that, creating an opening so he could spring free. It was always an impressive sight, sizable and thick. His golden skin slightly red with anticipation at the head of his cock, soft dark waves of short hair at the base. Reaching up, you gently held it. You couldn't quite wrap your whole hand around it. He exhaled at your touch, skin on skin. The hand he had in your hair gently pushed your head until your waiting lips met the tip of his cock, and you accepted it, closing your mouth around it.

Miguel threw his head back, slamming it against the headboard and shaking the two of you on the bed. The sound startled you, but you knew the headboard would've taken more damage than Miguel. He gave no indication that he was hurt, and so you kept going, sucking on the tip of his cock and being as noisy as possible so it would overwhelm that heightened hearing of his. And overwhelm it did. The soft, wet heat of your mouth was nearly too much for him. And as you started to take him deeper, he reached his arms up and behind him, taking the headboard into a vice grip. You could hear the wood splintering.

That should've worried you, you should've cared about your furniture being destroyed. But you didn't. You couldn't, not with Miguel O'Hara melting underneath you. He could destroy a thousand bed frames. So long as you could touch him, could hear him moaning, could watch him as he barely held his composure. This would always be worth it.

You took him further into your mouth, humming around his length at the pleasant, full feeling. You were slow, holding him there, savoring the taste of him and the weight of him on your tongue.

"M-move-" he croaked.

You turned your gaze towards his face, raising an eyebrow. He was straining. Muscles bulging, chest heaving, fangs displayed in clenched teeth. You could see the prominent cracks in the wood.

"Move your shocking head, amor."

His hands came down to tangle with your hair, grabbing handfuls so he could move your head for you. You happily let him, and he bobbed you up and down on his shaft as you opened your throat to him.

"Oh, fuck, yes… that's it. Good girl. You're- you're taking me so fucking well."

Your eyes started rolling into the back of your head fondly. Good girl. He'd never called you that before. You'd be good for him. You'd be so good.

The sounds coming from you were the very definition of lewd, as were the strands of thick saliva that connected you to him. You closed your eyes, continuing to breathe through your nose, when you felt something prick your scalp. His claws. In and out, in and out. He was struggling to keep control of them.

"Ay, coño, I can't fucking do this." His voice barely a whisper. "You're gonna," he paused, swallowing. "You're gonna make me lose control, you know that?" Despite his words, he kept going, kept moving your head, even started to thrust his hips up to fuck your throat more thoroughly. His moans turned into what could only be described as growls, and the sound of them hit you like an electric shock, making you want him even more. If that were even possible.

His claws kept scraping you, threatening to fully unsheath. But Miguel never let them. He finally let your head go, bringing his hands up to his face and rubbing it in exhaustion. You stayed on his cock for a moment longer, carefully lifting your head away and disconnecting from him with a wet pop.

He groaned to himself through his hands.

"Miguel…? You alright?"

"No." He finally said, "no, I'm fucking not."

You cocked your head in surprise at the response, opening your mouth to question him further until you were cut off by him quickly grabbing you and positioning you underneath him. He was pinning your legs again, but you were faced down this time, your cheeks pressed against the soft sheets as he pushed you into the mattress. He finally let his claws out, and with one swift movement, tore your shorts and panties into ribbons. In that moment, you were glad he couldn't see your face. You were grinning like an idiot. Finally. You're finally seeing the side of him that you always knew was there. That you desperately wanted him to let out. Your previous encounters had been tame compared to this. He'd been holding back.

"Because now," he grabbed your waist with both of his large hands, holding firm. "Now I know that you like being treated like a little fucktoy. I know that you'll be good for me and that you'll listen. What a rarity." He started to line up the tip of his cock with your entrance. "And if I thought you took up too much space in my head already, well-" he chuckled, pushing his tip into your pussy. "I'll never have peace of mind again."

He thrusted into you, and you were immediately seeing stars. With each pump, he took himself nearly all the way out of your warmth before plunging all the way back in. You could feel every delicious, hot inch of him. So deep and so filling. He fucked you into the mattress so thoroughly and so hard that you were convinced a crater was forming underneath the both of you. You felt the sharp points of his claws pricking your skin but not quite puncturing you. Your head swam as you grew dizzy.

He released your waist, left hand steadying himself on the low headboard, which was bound to break again. His right arm snuck up underneath your right arm, reaching around your collarbone to grab at your left shoulder, pulling you up so you were close into him. His chest was flush with your back. You reached up to hold onto that arm for dear life, as he brought his mouth down to your ear.

"Wanna bite you so bad, amor," he growled. "You smell so shocking good. Drivin' me up a fucking wall."

"Do it," you said, your voice strained.

"Wh-what?" His pace wavered. "You can't mean that."

"I- fuck- I do. Bite me, Miguel. Please."

"Are you," he exhaled a shaky breath. "Are you sure? It's a paralytic venom. I've- I've used it on Spiders before and we can withstand it a bit, but, shit… I need you to know what you're getting into."

"Do it," you said again.

His entire body shook against you. "Unbelievable…." His voice sounded reverent. "Hold on tight."

You listened, gripping his arm harder, shutting your eyes. His mouth came down to meet the crook of your neck. He inhaled, letting your scent wash over him, before carefully sinking his fangs into your skin. The pain was sharp and fast, and was quickly replaced with a wave of warmth and laxity. Your muscles loosened, allowing him to easily pull you in even closer. He moaned against you, his thrusts quickening, his cock feeling like it was hitting your cervix. With every smack of his skin against yours, he buried himself to the hilt. That incredible, intense feeling was building within you again, deep inside your core.

"Fuck," he hissed into your skin, releasing his jaws and lapping at the light trickle of crimson blood. "Good girl, good girl, I've got you."

He held you and didn't let go, caging you against his huge form, fucking you until that feeling turned into a huge sunburst that sent spots across your vision. Your body trembled involuntarily as you clenched around his cock.

"Yes," he encouraged, "yes, come for me. Give it all to me. I've got you, bebé."

You smiled against the venom, and he was right, it wasn't too potent in your system. It was just enough to comfortably loosen your muscles. You came down from your high as he kept pumping into you, his pace merciless. His body started to shake again, his right hand's grip on your left shoulder tightening.

“Too much for me to handle,” he rasped. “I’m gonna come… gonna come inside you.”

“Yes,” you croaked, finding your voice and gaining back enough control of your muscles to push yourself up into him.

His tempo stuttered as he slammed his hips into you, curling against you as he came. His cock twitched inside of you, spilling hot seed in thick spurts. He held you there for a long while, savoring the feeling of being inside you, like he knew he'd miss the warmth once it was gone. Despite what he wanted, he let go of you and flipped onto his back beside you, placing a hand over his heart as his chest heaved. He closed his eyes, trying to compose himself. Silently reaching for you, he pulled you in so you could rest against his chest, your head rising and falling with each heavy breath he took. He stroked your hair as you stared up at him, his face glowing in the yellow shine of candlelight.

"That…" he started to say, then stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I…. I needed that."

You smiled, nuzzling into him. "Thank you."

"You're thanking me?" He asked, laughing at how ridiculous it sounded.

"Yeah," you said. "I feel like I finally saw Miguel tonight. Not Spider-Man. But Miguel. And I really like him."

He rolled his eyes but still smiled, petting your head until you fell asleep on him.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #my writing #smut #mdom #i've crawled out of my hole for a new fic hi hello #i'm obsessed with him #this wasn't really beta read so my b if there are typos #trying out the new fic format that i see all over the place #someone on ao3 was kind enough to suggest some different words inn spanish so i've edited to include those #i'm not a native speaker so i'm open to suggestions #love you guys #also the ao3 link broke but it should work now lmaooo can you tell i published this at midnight #hold onto your shorts because i edited the spanish again lmao

2K notes · View notes

singlethread · 7 months

Text

Hey so Rosa has been sick this week and she needs to be hospitalized tonight. The estimate so far is 2,500 dollars. I am a vet student, I live entirely off of loans I really don’t have 2,500 dollars, I can put it on a payment plan but that’s still gonna be at least 300 dollars a month.

If y’all wanted to could you donate towards Rosa’s vet bills and if not could you at least share this

My venm0 is @/weallknownow

My p@ypal is @/usersinglethread

Rosa is quite literally my everything and any shares would be appreciated

Edit: 1544/3500 raised

Rosa is staying at the hospital for a third night because while she is currently stable she’s still not eating and her kidney values have started to be a cause for concern. She’s gonna stay on fluid therapy and they’re adding a nasogastric feeding tube and they’re gonna rerun her labs in the morning. Her ultrasound today was unremarkable so we’re still not sure what’s going on. Her estimate for this visit with the added treatment including last night’s stay is 2,500-3,000 dollars. So an ultimate total of 3,500-4,000.

So many of you have already donated and I feel terrible asking for more but I would really appreciate if you shared.

#love you guys

676 notes · View notes

meguemii · 7 months

Text

ˋ°•*⁀➷ M. Fushiguro

Love Sick! Head canons.

navigation station🚊

megumi fushiguro’s playlist

Megumi probably has never had a crush before you, so when you show up his life completely gets flipped upside down and he has NO idea what to do

He clings to you but in a way that doesn’t make him seem like he’s in crazy love with you.. although he is. It’s kinda like following your best friend everywhere you go

puppy love. it is straight up puppy love.

he’s alllllways complimenting you. “Y/N, your hair looks really nice today” he’d say with a straight face maybe a sliiiight smile, which you would obviously thank him with a beam. And if he wasn’t smiling before he definitely is now.

Nicknames. He loves calling you by a nickname like you do for him. “You’re always calling me ‘Gumi’ or ‘Megs’ you should have a nickname too.” he’d randomly say when hanging out in your room. “What’d ya have in mind Megs?”— “hm. N/N maybe? or Angel. I kinda like angel.”

He always finds himself thinking about you— like constantly. Stalking your instagram, watching all your stories etc. The most random things would remind him of you. He’s for sure the type of guy to see something while out with Nobara and Yuji and end up buying it for you because he’d think you’d like it. He’d definitely leave it at your door with a small note. ‘Saw this while I was out today and thought it was cute -Gumi’

Always asking you to ditch the group and just hangout with him instead because he prefers it that way.

HE ASKS NOBARA FOR GIRL ADVICE. ALL. THE. TIME. What’s your favourite food? Where should he take you in a date? How should he ask you out? What’s your type? (hint: it’s him)

When Nobara isn’t around to give advice he’d go to Yuji or Yuuta and gain absolutely no knowledge, then Maki, then Panda and Inumaki who are no help either. Reluctantly he’d finally go to Gojo— smart decision? Probably not. Gojo just teased Megumi about it (in a loving way ofc)

All this guy can do is talk about you. Every single topic of conversation he somehow brings you up, which ends up getting annoying to everyone which always gets him an “just ask her out already dude.”

When he finally does get the courage to ask you on an actual date and you accept everything he did before amplifies by 100. But nonetheless everyone is happy he finally did it. Especially you.

I’ve had this in my drafts for so long i 100% forgot about it LOL. have some more megumi head canons because ILY 😗😗 Might work on some haikyuu stuff after work because i already have a fic in the making :D

Love,

Emi🩵

955 notes · View notes

beck404 · 7 months

Text

Happy Bisexual Awareness Week!!

#happy bisexual awareness week #love you guys #youre valid and cool as hell #remember that #bisexual awareness week #bisexual #heartstopper #nick nelson #kit connor #heartstopper comic #heartstopper netflix #nick and charlie #charlie spring #joe locke #gay #lgbtq #bisexuality is real

605 notes · View notes

honeypiehotchner · 1 year

Text

Will you be my Valentine? (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot

Happy (belated) Valentine’s Day! This one shot turned out to be a lot longer than I was expecting, hence why it’s being posted today instead of yesterday 😭 (Also the first scene with Garcia is 100% inspired by a TikTok I saw and the idea just spiraled from there)

Summary: Each time a new member of the BAU figured out Hotch had feelings for you...and when he finally told you.

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff babes. It’s vile how cute this is

WC: 3.6k

Everyone knew Hotch had it bad from the first day you started working at the BAU.

There was a case on your very first day, so introductions were sparse before you boarded the jet. You met with Hotch, and the two of you talked briefly about how things work in general, though he said you’ll pick most of it up from actual experience.

The case was in Arizona, and it was a long one. But it didn’t take long for Garcia to see right through Hotch.

“So, um. How’s it going with the new agent?” Garcia asked, twirling her feathery pen back in Quantico.

Hotch shrugged. “Why are you asking me?”

“What is that in your voice?” Garcia said. She grinned. Say it ain’t so, she thought. Hotch, the Unit Chief, having a crush? This is too good. “Oh my god, you think she’s pretty.”

“Penelope--” he tried to stop her, to tell her she had it wrong because that would be wildly inappropriate, plus, his thinking that you were pretty had nothing to do with--

“Oh, you totally do!” Garcia giggled, ignoring his protests because he was deep in denial. Finally! A crush! “PG out, lover boy.”

He shook his head as she hung up on him, but he knew the blush was evident on his cheeks. He could feel it, so he knew everyone could see it.

Even you, who walked in a second later to ask him a question.

You saw the red tint on his cheeks, but thought nothing of it as he steeled his face once more before listening to your question.

+++

A few months passed since you began at the BAU, and still Garcia was the only one privy to Hotch’s secret. He thought.

“Have a good night,” Hotch said quietly as he passed your desk. You were gathering your things to head out for the night.

“Don’t stay too late,” you teased, shouldering your bag. You noticed he had a fresh mug of coffee in his hand. “You need sleep too, you know.”

“I’ll try,” he said with a smile as he bounded the steps up to his office. “Sleep well.”

Rossi watched (and heard) this interaction from his office. He waited until he saw you disappear into the elevator before he knocked on Aaron’s door.

“Come in,” Hotch said, not looking up from the paperwork at his desk until he realized it was Dave. “Hey, heading out for the night?”

“Not yet,” Rossi said, sinking down into one of Hotch’s chairs. “So…what are your plans for the weekend?”

Hotch eyed Rossi suspiciously. Every time Rossi began with that, it meant one of three things: 1. He genuinely wanted to know what Hotch had going on this weekend, 2. He wanted Hotch to do something with him, or 3. He was digging.

Digging for what exactly, Hotch never knew. Until Rossi caved and outright asked.

“What do you think of Y/N?”

Hotch shrugged. He continued working on the paperwork to distract himself. “She’s doing really well. She adapted quickly. I’ve been very impressed. Strauss has too.”

Rossi hummed. “Well, that sounded rehearsed.”

Hotch looked up from the papers, giving Rossi a tired stare. “What?”

“I asked what you think of her,” Rossi repeated, smiling smugly. “Not how she’s doing at her job.”

“What’s the difference?” Hotch returned to signing off reports.

“Oh, come on, Aaron,” Dave sat forward, tapping the desk. “I’m not that dense. And neither are you. You think she’s cute.”

“She’s very pretty,” Aaron answered without hesitation, regretting it immediately because it only gave Rossi more ammo.

“I knew it,” Dave grinned, sitting back again and clasping his hands together. “Well?”

Finally, Hotch put his pen down. “Well what?”

“Are you going to do something about it?”

Aaron grimaced. “You make it sound like it’s a problem.”

“It is if you never tell her,” Rossi pressed. He had lectured Aaron many times on the dangers of never telling a woman how you feel about her. Especially when it was clear she felt the same way.

“It’s inappropriate,” Hotch said, reverting to his usual defense.

“You’re both adults, clearly capable of making your own decisions,” Rossi replied with a shrug. Aaron knew that Rossi was the reason the No Fraternization rule existed, but he also knew Rossi was the first to say how much bullshit that rule was ladened with. “I don’t see the problem.”

Hotch glanced back down, scribbled a signature on Morgan’s report and tossed it aside, opening yours. He paused. “For one thing,” he started, flipping open your folder. “I don’t know how she feels.”

Dave stared at Aaron, wondering if the man across from him was being serious. As it turned out, Aaron was.

“If you saw what I did earlier, then you’d know she does,” Dave said.

Aaron shrugged again. “She’s nice to me because I’m her boss.”

“She’s civil toward you because you’re her boss,” Rossi clarified. “She’s nice because she feels the same way you do.”

Aaron sighed. He knew Dave meant well, but it was exhausting to listen to him. Aaron wanted to say something to you, but at the end of the day, he was your boss, and you his employee. It didn’t sit right with him. And if he ever did say something, that would be the first topic of conversation. It was too complicated.

Not to mention, he had only known you for a few months, and all of that time consisted of work settings -- save a few nights at bars or restaurants with some of the team.

“Ah, I see,” Dave said, nodding slowly. He stood up to leave.

“See what?” Aaron asked before Dave made it to the door.

“You’re too far in your head about this,” Dave said quietly. “Once you get out, you’ll know what to do.” And he left.

Aaron stared down at your report, your perfect handwriting. It looked far better than his, and miles better than Reid’s. It was very clearly yours, too. It fit your personality.

He closed the folder. The rest could wait until morning.

+++

Not long after Hotch’s talk with Rossi, Morgan was the next to put the pieces together -- and say something about it.

On the jet returning home from yet another case, everyone slept, except Hotch, Morgan, and Rossi. Reid curled up on the couch. Emily and JJ fell asleep in their seats, and you had taken over two other seats to stretch out. No one minded. Morgan gave you his jacket, against your protests. Hotch wished he had given you his, but Morgan had beat him to it.

Morgan noticed Hotch watching you wistfully while you slept, looking up every now and again from his tablet to check on you. Hotch’s eyes shot toward you impossibly fast every time you moved, watching for a moment to be sure you were alright before he looked away again.

After watching this for an hour, Morgan moved from his spot by Rossi to sit in front of Hotch.

“Hey,” Hotch said, nodding to Derek. “Can’t sleep?”

Morgan shrugged, biting back a grin. “I got a cat nap in. You?”

“I’ll sleep better in my bed,” Hotch replied. “I’m a little too tall for these seats.”

“Yeah, you always looked scrunched up,” Derek teased, jokingly mimicking the position Hotch once tried to sleep in. He woke up with one hell of a catch in his back. “Can I ask you a question?”

Hotch looked up, suspicious and a little scared. “Sure.”

Derek opened his mouth to speak and you shifted in your sleep again, causing Aaron’s eyes to shoot over toward you. His eyebrows drew together as he watched you, waiting for you to settle back down.

By the time Hotch looked back over, Morgan was smirking.

“What was your question?” Hotch asked.

“That right there,” Morgan replied, lowering his voice a little just to be sure you wouldn’t catch any of it. “What’s goin’ on?”

“What?” Hotch asked, feigning innocence, but he could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, and the smile he wasn’t able to hold back. “I don’t, uh-- What do you mean?”

“You should tell her,” Morgan said, starting to grin. “You really should.”

What Hotch didn’t know is that exactly two days before this, you confessed your feelings to Morgan. Only because he caught you smiling at Hotch, and you knew he wouldn’t give it up. Also because you were starting to go a little crazy, holding it in. But you called it a stupid crush and said it would go away. Derek didn’t believe you.

“No,” Hotch said, but he kept smiling. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Derek shrugged. “What’s the harm?”

Hotch stayed quiet, looked back down. He shook his head.

“Hotch, you gotta put yourself out there,” Derek whispered. “And you gotta do it before you’re too late.”

Hotch nodded slowly. He should’ve known you’d have someone else on your horizons. You’re much younger, far prettier than he ever thought to be real. No wonder someone else took notice. No wonder someone else was ahead of him.

“Seriously,” Morgan pressed a little further. “Valentine’s Day is coming up, y’know. Perfect timing.”

Hotch chuckled softly, shaking his head at Morgan’s wicked grin. “Alright.”

+++

Emily and JJ realized it at the same time you did, though you told yourself you were overthinking and making it all up.

Hotch had bought your coffee.

It didn’t seem that strange, or romantic even. You happened to be at a coffee shop down the street, waiting in line to order when Hotch got in line behind you.

The two of you talked while you waited. What a happy coincidence, both of you were there before work. Your heart fluttered with every word he said, every smile he showed and laugh he let slip. Even his jokes, you were flustered beyond belief.

And then he got your coffee for you.

He asked, and you were so shocked that you said yes. You couldn’t stop smiling and neither could he.

Truthfully, Aaron was over the moon. His heart was beating like crazy, and he wondered if you noticed his nervous laughter. (You did.)

When you got back to the BAU, walking in together caught Emily and JJ’s attention. Reid was in the middle of a book, and Derek was nowhere to be found (probably off with Penelope). But Emily and JJ immediately tuned in.

“Hey you two,” you smiled, walking around to your desk.

“Hey yourself,” Emily grinned, keeping an eye on Hotch as he walked up to his office, smiling to himself. “You’re in a good mood.”

“A very good mood,” JJ echoed, propping herself up on the corner of her desk. “You and Hotch got coffee?”

“Yeah,” you replied, thinking nothing of it. “I just ran into him at my usual place.”

Emily and JJ shared a look, raising their eyebrows.

“Just ran into him?” JJ asked, shrugging her shoulders.

“…yeah?” you laughed. “What about it?”

“Did he buy your coffee?” Emily asked quietly, biting back a grin. “That’s…” She cocked her head, giving you a look.

“It’s what?”

“It sounds like he likes you,” Reid piped up, eyes still focused on his book. “It was a romantic gesture.”

Reid had known for a while. He kept it to himself, though, because nine times out of ten, when he first picks up on these things, no one else has yet. And if he mentions it, it’s often invasive and people get defensive, because it’s something they don’t want to think about.

So, he’s kept it quiet. But he has noticed. And now it’s getting obvious.

Your mouth remained open in shock. Hotch? Having a crush on you? That seemed ridiculous. Impossible, even. He’s your boss, for crying out loud. Not to mention, older and…does he even date? He doesn’t talk about his personal life. You know he’s divorced, but that’s it.

“No,” you laughed awkwardly. “I mean, I buy my coffee for my friends all the time. I’ve bought you guys coffee,” you gestured to Emily and JJ. “It’s fine, right?”

“It’s fine,” Emily shrugged. “Yeah, it’s fine, it’s not anything serious.”

“Just a coffee,” JJ agreed, although both of them still didn’t fully believe you.

It was friendly, sure, but the kind of friendly that had romantic undertones and intentions.

But you didn’t want to think about that because it felt impossible. They were reading too far into it, that’s all.

It’s a running joke that joining the BAU is a death sentence for your love life, so it’s a regular conversation, that’s all.

That’s all, you told yourself. That’s all.

+++

The BAU rang in February with a new case, this one in Alabama. It took a week or so to solve, and by the end of it, you were all exhausted. Yet you needed to eat, so the team went out for dinner.

Somehow — you never really know how this happens — the conversation veered toward Valentine’s Day. Derek brought it up, purely because he and Penelope are planning to spend it together watching the worst rom-coms imaginable.

“I don’t know, it just kinda bums me out. I never look forward to it,” you said, expecting to be in the majority at the table, but you weren’t.

“What?” Derek said. “We’ve gotta change that.”

You smiled at him, though it felt like he was pitying you.

“Why does it bum you out?” Hotch asked earnestly.

You hadn’t expected him to say anything, let alone to ask you a question. “Because,” you started. “I guess I just see all these happy couples, and the cards and balloons and flowers and chocolates and it’s— It’s just too much to look at.”

“You know, most of the happiest couples on Valentine’s Day are actually struggling in their relationship,” Reid said, mid-chew.

“What statistics back that one up, pretty boy?” Morgan teased.

“Just an observation,” Reid shrugged, swallowing.

“I know,” you replied. “I know statistically — also just from experience — that they’re not that happy, but still. They still look it. And it’s, you know, it’s sad.” You paused, not wanting to finish your sentence but you knew you had to because you dug this hole for yourself. “Because…I know that I’ll never have that.”

“What makes you say that?” Hotch asked, his voice quiet with concern.

“Yeah, Y/N,” Emily said, her face sad as she shook her head solemnly. “You don’t know that.”

“But…I do.” Your smile was a soft, sad one born from acceptance. “I never have had it, and it just seems so unlikely for me. Besides, I don’t want to be pretending to be happy and in love. That would be worse than being single.”

“Not everyone is pretending,” Hotch said, his eyes soft.

“Maybe,” you shrugged. “I didn’t mean to take over the table, guys. Let’s— JJ, what are you and Will doing?”

The conversation went back into safer territory, as JJ told the table that her and Will would probably do something small after Henry went to bed. Or maybe a dinner, after Spencer offered to babysit.

“Yeah, or I could babysit,” you offered. “You guys should have a date.”

“Uh, you should too,” Emily said. “You’ll find someone.”

“Considering Valentine’s Day is in three days, I doubt it.”

The table was silent for a moment, but Rossi broke it. “You’ll find someone,” he said with his small smile. “You’ll see.”

You rolled your eyes. It wasn’t unlike Rossi to talk like a fortune cookie.

+++

Aaron wanted to throw up.

Well, he wouldn’t go that far, but he certainly was nervous. He didn’t even know if you’d show up.

But he waited. Inside the coffee shop, at a table by the window, he waited. The barista kept giving him this look, like she pitied him because it was Valentine’s Day and he was sitting at a table for two. Alone.

He texted you and asked if you wanted to grab coffee, but you hadn’t texted him back — yet. Still, he needed something to do today, so he came anyway.

Why did he give everyone the day off? He felt ridiculous.

What Aaron didn’t know was that a few miles away, you felt even more ridiculous.

“It’s not even a date!” you cried over the phone. “What the hell am I so worked up for?”

“Because you like him!” Penelope gushed. “And he clearly likes you. Oh, I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!”

You laughed at her as you worked your boots over your heels. “Relax, Pen.”

“I won’t!”

“Okay, well, I need to go because he texted like…an hour ago and I’m not even on the way. God, what if he’s already left? I bet he—”

“Shush! No more! You have a hot date and no room for self-doubt, now go!”

“Fine, fine, I’m going. Let me text him that I’m leaving— Penelope.”

Your heart dropped out of your ass. There, staring back at you, was your text message that you meant to send an hour ago. You forgot to hit send.

“I forgot to hit send!” you screamed, flying toward the front door. “I’m such an ass!”

“No you’re not!” Penelope yelled back. “Call him!”

“I can’t!”

“I will literally add him to this call right now if you don’t—”

“Don’t you dare!” You promptly hung up with her and called Aaron. “Come on, pick up. Pick up, please, pick up—”

“Hello?”

“Hi!” you sounded out of breath. “Hi, I’m so sorry. I’m such an idiot. I meant to text you back, but it didn’t send, and I know that sounds like a stupid excuse, but I swear it’s true—”

“Y/N—”

“If you’ve already left, that’s okay, God I feel so bad—”

“Y/N,” he said again. He sounded like he was smiling. “It’s okay,” he chuckled. “I haven’t been here that long.” He had. But you didn’t need to know that, because it was irrelevant. He would wait years for you.

“I’m on my way now, I swear to god,” you said, laughing a little. “Give me five minutes and I’ll be there.”

“Do you want your usual?” he asked.

Your heart skipped a beat. He knew your order. Your usual. “Yeah,” you said. “Please. Thank you.”

“No problem,” he replied, still smiling. “I’ll have it waiting for you.”

Relief. “You’re the best.”

By the time you made it to the coffee shop, Aaron did, in fact, have your coffee waiting for you. Along with your favorite pastry from their bakery. Today, it had a pink heart on it.

He stood to his feet when he saw you come in. You looked flustered, yes, but beautiful beyond measure. He didn’t know if he was going to be able to stop himself from fainting.

You felt the same way. Seeing him out of the suit never ceased to amaze you. He wore a nice black button down today with jeans. He still looked unbelievably handsome, his hair fluffier than usual, not as slicked down as he does it for work.

“What’s all this?” you asked, sheepish. A red rose laid across the table, your favorite pastry sat next to your coffee. It was all so…sweet. “Aaron, you didn’t have to…”

He shrugged. “I wanted it to be special.”

He sat down after you did, his stomach doing somersaults. He didn’t want to point you in the direction of his question so blatantly, but he was getting impatient. He just wanted to blurt it.

Before he could, though, you turned your cup toward you and saw the writing on the side. There, in Hotch’s unmistakable all-caps handwriting, was one question: Will you be my Valentine?

You gasped, then pouted, shocked by it all, but so, so happy. Deep down, you wanted this to happen, but you never let yourself believe that it really could or that it really was.

“Really?” you asked him, looking up from the writing.

He nodded slowly, a soft smile spreading across his lips. “I know you said you don’t like the holiday, but I thought you at least deserved to have a happy one. At least once.”

You didn’t know what to say. “That’s… That’s so sweet, Aaron, wow, okay. Yes.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Yes what?”

You grinned. He’s so cute. “I’ll be your Valentine.”

“Oh!” he laughed. “Right. Sorry, I’m so nervous.”

“Me too,” you confessed. “I was on the phone with Garcia before I came-- She knows, by the way. She insisted this was a date, but I told her not to be delusional and-- Is this a date?”

“If you want it to be,” he said. “I’d like that.”

“I’d like that too,” you murmured. “A lot.”

“Would you like to…” his voice trailed away. “I am so bad at this.”

Instinctively, your hand reached across the table and rested on his. “No you’re doing great!”

He smiled, his cheeks flushing red at your touch. He turned his hand over and clasped his fingers around yours. “Would you like to do this again? I don’t want this to just be today. I’d like to…see where this goes.”

“Me too,” you breathed, so relieved you could almost cry. “I’d love that.”

“And,” he added, enveloping your hand in both of his. “Penelope was the first to know. She saw right through me.”

“When?” you laughed. It was hard to imagine Penelope Garcia cornering Aaron Hotchner on something like this.

“I think it was your first case,” he admitted, the blush seeming permanent on his cheeks now. “I guess how I spoke on the phone gave me away.”

“The first day?” Honestly, it gave you a bit of an ego boost.

He nodded. “The very first.”

“That’s…adorable.” There was nothing else to it.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #hotch #hotch fluff #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x reader #Happy Valentine's Day #MWAH #love you guys #fluff

1K notes · View notes