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[hurlingdown]

        # BEASTFEAST ! — RYŌMEN SUKUNA.

synopsis. in another life, they only knew you as his guard dog. in this one, he's yours to own. or, alternatively: sukuna misses his mate so much that it begins to physically affect his vessel's body. they set off on a little mission in search of you, only to find themselves walking riiight into your waiting jaws. wc. 4.2k

tags. dom beast! reader, bottom! sukuna. reader has a cock. oviposition (eggs), size difference, large cock, i'm not joking around that thing is fucking ginormous, belly bulge, monsterfucking, cum inflation, breeding kink, mpreg, knotting, biting, rough anal sex, warning: sukuna's huge tits, appropriate amount of clothes-ripping, multiple orgasms, creampie, sukuna's hole leaks slick, soft & needy sukuna.

a/n. inspired by this ask. thank you for the wonderful thirst <3

Sukuna was a predator. He did not fear, did not run from measly little things like monsters, because hardly anything could be more terrifying than he was. 

But for the first time in his life, he felt like he was prey. 

Hulking, sharp teeth bared, and with four piercing slit-like eyes, you rose to your full height, a low growl sounding at the back of your throat. Primal hunger radiated from your entire being as you stalked closer and closer, horns lowered in a position ready to strike, your tail whipping the jagged ends of the cave, sending little sparks alive. 

“S-Sukuna, I think we should leave...” Yuuji stammered, starting to back out, but his cheek split open at once and a mouth appeared, snarling out a command to stay. 

“Let me take over,” Sukuna muttered. “I will handle this, brat.” 

Yuuji looked hesitant about giving up control on his body. Still, there were little options to pick and choose from at the moment, and the beast, you, was approaching them with haste. Each heavy step you took announced your presence, causing the ground to quake, crushed rock particles raining down like fine powder. 

Your eyes narrowed in onto the human at the mouth of the cave, no larger than one-fifth of your size, nor taller. Something coursed through you, sharp and warm and instantaneous, like static electricity. 

Familiarity. 

You came to a halt in front of him as tribal tattoos materialised on his skin, stretching across the expanse of his handsome face and dipping into his clothed chest. Two dark bands wrapped themselves around each of his wrists, and you watched intensely as he raised one (not six)—slowly, as to not threaten you, fist unfurling into a gentle hand to press against the side of your muzzle. 

Dark red eyes stared up at you with a bored expression. 

“Silly dog,” Sukuna cooed, fond. 

All of this was familiar territory, and you wanted to sink your teeth into his neck. He was looking at you like he knew what you wanted, too. 

“Sukuna,” you growled, nuzzling into his hand, and he shuddered. 

Closing his eyes, he curled a palm around one of your horns, bringing you down to press his forehead against yours, wanting to be close. You obliged easily, feeling his warm breath against yours, his touch surrounding you. The thrumming of his very much human heart against your lesser human one. You supposed it was a kind of feeling that no other living being could fathom. It wasn’t love, gods, no. It was something much more than that. 

It was something that only the two of you shared. 

“I made you wait,” Sukuna breathed, stroking the side of your face, and you snorted out an agreement. 

He had made you wait for centuries. Centuries of spending night and day in a cold wet cave, alone. You used to spend weeks lying awake at a time, waiting, hoping he would come back, sharp instincts perking up at every slight noise coming from outside the cave, only for it to be a bird or a stupid human traveller. You had hoped so desperately before that hope died with your will to live, and if not for your curse of immortality, you would have ended it all. You hadn’t even bothered to make a proper nest, for all these years. It didn’t matter if your mate wasn’t there to appreciate it. 

He had left you empty of meaning. 

“... I don’t suppose you will want me to apologise for that.” 

You stayed quiet. You weren’t looking for an apology. But that didn’t mean you weren’t angry with him. 

“Words?” he said patiently, looking at you. “Tell me how you feel.” 

“Nest,” you told him, and he watched helplessly as you shrugged his grip off and stalked past him, out of the cave and into the bright sunlight, for the first time in ages. 

You gathered nesting materials as swiftly as you could, taking whatever you could find in the forest—dried-up twigs, leaves, bark strips, bird feathers, all the sort. They didn’t have the softest texture, but they would do for now. 

You returned to a sweet, heady scent seeping out from inside the cave, each whiff sending delicious quivers down your spine. It was the kind of aphrodisiac that omegas in the wild would release if they wanted to attract an alpha, but these things did not matter to you much. Mate, your mind supplied. Breed. You shook it off as your body not being attuned to the unbearable warmth of the outside world. It was getting all your instincts mixed up. 

Inside the cave, Sukuna was sitting on your poorly-made nest like it was a grand throne, thighs spread and arms hung out, exposing his most vulnerable parts—his neck, heart and belly—to you in such a casual manner that it set fuel to the burgeoning fire you had been trying to ignore in your abdomen.

He gave you a lazy look as you noticed, a smirk beginning to stretch across his face. 

“You are back.” 

You felt your fangs itch. 

“I was going to rip these off,” Sukuna continued when you made no reply, pinching his clothes with a look of near disgust. “But I figured you would want to do it yourself…?” 

You growled. You had been suppressing the urge to rip off all his clothes since the moment he emerged in front of you in those markings that you had recognised as yours, and somehow, he knew it. 

“Sukuna,” you said. There was nothing else to say. You could feel yourself trembling with desire. Even he wouldn’t be able to take it, not in this weak form, no. “I need… to fix the nest.” The words came out flimsy and weak. An excuse.

“Take me,” he rasped out, as though reading your mind. He gestured to his stomach. “Forget the nest. I want you inside me. Right here.” 

He watched you, a hint of desperation behind his stern gaze. You looked away. 

“I am angry at you,” you confessed, the real reason for why you were so hesitant. It came out in a growl, and Sukuna shivered, baring his neck with a low whine. 

“I can tell,” he murmured, breathless. “Take it out on me.” 

It was tempting, really, having your mate spread out in front of you in your territory, willing and pliant, with only a thin, negligible barrier between you and what was yours. No, what used to be yours. You glared at his unblemished neck, now empty of a mating bite. It didn’t feel right, and the growing heat within you was telling you to either bite or break something. 

“No.” 

Sukuna cocked an eyebrow. “No?” 

Trying your best to ignore him, you lumbered over, starting to rearrange the nest into something more presentable. As you got closer, the sweet scent intensified, like a field of blooming red roses, each one making you dizzy with desire. Mate, your instincts were telling you. Make him round and heavy with our offspring. Keep him here forever. Who knows where he’ll walk off to the next time we lose sight of him. 

You could feel your cock sliding out from its sheath, steadily hardening as you pretended not to know where the smell was coming from. 

Sukuna eyed you coyly as you moved closer to stuff a few feathers behind him, arching his back subtly as he settled into a more comfortable position, one that exposed the wet patch between his legs. He pulled down the mouth of his shirt to show his right pectoral, the thick black lines enticing you to trace them with your tongue. 

Your cock swung heavily with every slight movement, and you could feel his hungry stare on it. 

He opened his mouth. You stopped and stared back at him, daring him to speak. He sneered. “Your dick clearly disagrees—” 

Sukuna yelped as you ripped his shirt open with your claws in one smooth movement, fully exposing his plump chest. 

“Beautiful,” you growled in appreciation, flinging the shredded shirt away, and he panted out a victorious laugh, eagerly pushing out his tits for you to examine. 

“Fucking finally.” He moaned unabashedly as you groped his pecs, careful not to graze him with your claws, but just as rough nonetheless—just the way he liked it. “Knew you would give in, haah.” 

“Sukuna,” you warned, baring your teeth, but he only arched his neck in response, trying to get you to bite already. 

“Put it in,” he whined. “Want your prick in me.” 

You ripped his pants off next. 

Your gaze raked down his body—this new, unfamiliar body of his that you should despise, because it was so human, so unlike him—but instead of feeling revulsion, you could only taste hunger. Saliva rapidly gathered in your mouth, threatening to spill out from the gaps of your sharp teeth. 

If he belonged to you, then every form and body that he chooses to possess would belong to you, too. And naturally, this one did. 

“Here,” Sukuna panted, reaching a hand between his legs to scissor his hole open for you. Viscous, syrupy slick dripped out, dousing your nest with his sweet smell, and all of this only served to drive you crazy with want. “Fuck me, ruin me, come on—” 

The universe unravelled before you the moment you grabbed him by the hips and seated him on your cock in one violent thrust, and you groaned out loud and guttural, heavens and the earth be damned. You could have never forgotten how it felt, not since then, and never now, a sweltering, almost electrical connection burning through your bodies and sealing them together as one, like you were made to fit inside him, like he was made to be yours. 

Sukuna was letting out a string of broken whimpers, face contorted in absolute bliss and pleasure as his rim stretched impossibly wide around your thick girth, his stomach bulging out to allow such a large intrusion. You yanked him further down the shaft of your cock, and he cried out, body convulsing as came—cock messily spurting on his chest. 

“Shit,” he cursed, trembling as you began to move again. “F-forgot how big this thing is.” 

You snarled. Guess you would just have to imprint your dick inside him to make sure he would never forget again. 

You manoeuvred your grip to the back of his knees, supporting him in a secure hold, spreading his thighs wider so you could slide in deeper with his back pressed against your chest. You wanted to feel every inch of him, wanted him to sheath you, wanted to carve a space inside him that only you could ever breach. Sukuna howled out a profanity, throwing his head back to rest on your shoulder as pleasure overwhelmed him in waves. 

He reached back to grab at your shoulders, horns, anything, struggling to push himself into a better position as you started to slowly thrust into him. Vulnerable was the first word that came to you. The second one was fragile, but that wasn’t the word for it, either. He was so little now—you could fit one hand completely around his waist, and you should be more gentle with him, really, but you knew he could take more. 

“Look,” you said, peeking over his shoulder. Sukuna looked up at you, teary and confused, but before you could clarify, you reached a clawed hand to press against the obscene bulge on his navel, and his eyes rolled back with a loud, shuddering cry as he jerked in your arms, pressure immediately increasing tenfold. 

“F-fuck,” he sobbed. You could feel the slick gushing out from around you and dripping down your thighs as he stared down for the first time, throat dry and unbreathing. “It’s too fuckin’ big.” 

You applied more pressure, just to be cruel, watching as he choked on a moan, thighs quivering uncontrollably. He stared back up at you, as though searching for a reason for that, and couldn’t resist looking down again, at the huge swell over his stomach and abdomen—the print of your cock marking him as yours. He slowly pressed his hands over your larger ones, whimpering as he felt just how deeply you were buried inside him. 

“It is not that big,” you sneered. “You are just small now.”

Sukuna scowled at your taunting words, shivering as you gently stroked his stomach. “Brat. That does not- ah- does not mean I cannot take you.” 

You bared your teeth, trying for something similar to a smile. “I know.” 

You knew that more than anyone. He was the strongest creature you had ever known, and would ever know. The only one you would ever bow down to, the only one you would serve and recognise as king.

You lapped up his tears, and Sukuna leaned heavily into your touch, like he had been starving for it. 

He was starting to roll his hips impatiently, forcing the head of your cock to rub against his walls, lustful whimpers slipping out as he watched you move inside him. “I guess it has been a long time,” he heaved, trying to catch his breath as he worked himself up and down your shaft the best he could. “I am gonna—cum. Again. Hold me.” 

It wasn’t an order as much as it was a plea.

You lifted his thigh high up to your chest, your other arm wrapping protectively around his waist as you violently slammed up into his tight hole, stuffing him full as he screamed. Strips of white painted his chest as he came all over himself, and you hooked your jaw over his shoulder to dutifully lick them up. 

It took him less than a minute to recover, hips jerking in your grip and whimpering pitifully to get your attention.  

“Fuck me,” he sobbed, way too sensitive as you started to move him up and down your cock again, canines grazing his neck. “Fuck me harder.” 

You knew Sukuna wasn’t letting you do this only because he wanted you to let you take out your anger on him. He needed it himself, craved it, even—the violence, the overstimulation, the release. Centuries of not having you beside him. Centuries of being sealed up in a dark, empty space without the comfort of your warmth, the solace in your touch. He needed it now, more than ever, and you needed it too.  

Ignoring his protests, you pulled him off your cock, setting him gently onto the nest on his hands and knees. Yanking his hips up, you forcefully pushed your shaft into him again, shoving him down by the neck when he tried to see what you were doing. He only moaned at the rough treatment, arching his back for you. 

“Let me,” you told him, gently. “Let me take care of you.” 

Sukuna panted, his two left eyes watching you with a strange reverence that only revealed itself when the two of you were alone and being intimate. It wasn’t exactly a promise to behave, but it was enough for you to start again. 

Your tail curled around his thigh possessively, guiding it to spread wider as you rammed your hips against his repeatedly with heavy thrusts, the wet slaps deafeningly loud as they echoed through the cave. Sukuna had stopped trying to fuck himself on your cock, instead laying there and allowing you to position him as you wished, moaning lewdly every time the tapered tip of your cock forced itself against his sweet spot. He was squeezing deliciously around you with every thrust, his insides squelching as slick coated the entirety of your shaft, easing the stretch and glide. 

“Gorgeous,” you growled, entranced by the way his hole greedily swallowed up your length, and he whined brokenly at the praise, trembling hands reaching back to spread himself open for you. You groaned out at the sight, driving yourself deep in before pulling out until only the tip stayed inside, and slamming back in again to drink in his pleasured cries. Somewhere in the middle of that he had cum again, spilling heavily into the nest as his knees gave out, legs shaking with overstimulation. 

“So fuckin’ good,” Sukuna whimpered, no longer himself in the haze of his third orgasm—face smushed against the nest as he drooled. “Missed this—missed you so much, ah—” 

You could feel yourself getting closer and closer, the edges of your vision blurring as you snapped your teeth together, focused on getting him off as much as possible first. Something strange and heavy was churning deep within you, being slowly dragged out from your depths and solidifying at the base of your cock—a feeling you hadn’t felt for a long time, you almost forgot what it meant. 

You didn’t even know if it was possible to impregnate him in this form. 

“Fill me up,” he sobbed out, cockdrunk already. The stutter of your hips had given it away—it didn’t matter if it had been centuries—his body could recognise it coming from a mile, like he was conditioned to be bred by you. “Want your eggs.” 

You let out a hungry, animalistic whine at his words, claws digging into his hips and thighs as you towered over him in a proper mounting position, pounding harder and making guttural sounds of pleasure and want as you blindly chased your release. His eyes squeezed shut as he moaned wantonly, exposing his throat in a clear sign of submission, showing you that he wanted this, wanted you to stuff him full until he was bulging with your offspring. 

“S-Sukuna,” you managed, wanting to bite, wanting to mark him, cock slamming directly into his sweet spot with reckless abandon, as though wanting to mark his insides as yours too. You could feel a knot bloating at the base of your shaft, heavy and swollen with solid weight, an unbearable pressure pushing and growing insistently somewhere down there, slowly travelling towards the rim of your cockhead. It was too much, too good, and you wanted to push deeper, deeper, make him feel it all the way to his throat. 

“Knock me up already!” he wailed, pushing his ass back against you desperately as if that would speed things up. “P-Please. You know I want it. Been waiting for so long. I want it, please, please—” 

He was begging so much that it was driving your instincts into overdrive, sight blurring, breath coming out in rapid, hot pants—he had rarely, rarely ever acted like this even before the two of you were separated—tears rolling down his cheeks as he cried his heart out for you to permanently mark his body as your own, distraught and broken like the only thing that could fix him was you. 

It tore your soul apart to see your mate like this. 

You fought to concentrate, but an invisible force was prying your jaws open, trying to get you to bite, clamp down on his neck and shoulder, taste his blood and drink in it. 

“Bite,” you wheezed out with difficulty as your hips continued to pound into him of their own accord, and you tried your hardest to tell him that you were going to lose it any time. “Please—can—I?” 

“Yes, you fucking fool,” Sukuna choked on a sob as you brutally shoved your knot into him, stuffing him full until he felt like he was bursting. “Mark me up, show me that I belong to you—” 

And you did, jaws latching onto flesh and skin as your teeth punctured the juncture between his neck and shoulder, fangs sinking in deep, snarling, shaking, a burning heat exploding at your core as your vision whited out, emptying everything into him—ecstasy consuming your very existence. 

When you came to be, he was whimpering weakly.

You could feel the cum steadily trickling out of his hole and down the back of his thighs—you had come so much that even the thick knot couldn’t keep everything inside—but you didn’t think that was the reason. 

You could feel a heavy pressure present from your crotch to the gaping rim of your cockhead, pain and pleasuring splitting you apart, and you let out a wounded noise as you pushed the first egg into the body of your mate. 

“S-shit,” Sukuna croaked out, thighs trembling as the egg settled into him, straining at the sudden heavy weight in his stomach. “H-how many are there?” 

“There are two,” you hissed out, and his eyes widened. “Two more.” 

He let out a pained whine, eyes fluttering close as he waited for the next, and the next. “Brat,” he managed. “I might not be able to stay awake.” 

You pulled back the best you could, manhandling him gently so that you could rest him on his side, knot still lodged inside him. “It is okay,” you told him, softly. “I will take care of you.” 

Sukuna couldn’t remember, for the life of it, the last time that he had felt so heavy. 

He blinked his eyes open, and was greeted by the sight of his swollen stomach, now stuffed with three whole eggs, and at least a gallon of your cum. He sighed with contentment, wriggling to settle comfortably into the warmth of the nest, hands settling on his stomach. 

Yuuji was going to try and kill him, no doubt. Not that his vessel would ever come close to succeeding. He found himself grinning evilly at that. 

Sukuna was about to fall asleep again, before he noticed a lack of body heat behind him.

He was breathing in your scent as the entire cave was drenched in it that he hadn't realised immediately, but you were nowhere in sight. A hollow feeling swept over him in waves at the thought of being used and abandoned, and he bit back a whimper. Stupid, useless instincts. He hated how weak you made him.

“Brat,” he called, softly, too tired to sit up. “You are here?” 

You grunted. 

You had been sitting at the far edge of the nest for the past hour, gaze locked onto the entrance of the cave, guarding your now pregnant mate from any foolish intruders. That was… one of the two reasons. The other reason was to guard him from yourself. 

Sukuna called for you again, and you could not resist stealing a glance.

The sight before you was making you light-headed with desire that you could not afford to have, not right now. You stared down at him just as he looked up at you, swollen and bulging with your offspring, mindlessly stroking his huge stomach with cum still trickling down his ass and thighs. 

Fuck. You were so hungry. You would always be hungry for him.

Sukuna’s face split into an arrogant smirk. “Why, after all that, and you still want more.” 

“Do not,” you warned lowly, trying your best to look away, even as he shamelessly spread his legs, showing you the mess you had made between his thighs. “Sukuna. Not now.” 

“Why not?” he leered, taking pleasure in your distress. “Scared you will break me?” 

You growled. “Yes.” 

“Weak,” he taunted. “I do not remember picking a weak fool as my mate.” 

“I am not weak.” You bared your teeth at him, and he simply laughed at you. 

“So easy to rile up,” he hummed. “Come here.” 

“... No.” 

He looked even more amused. “Come over, brat. I will not do anything vile.” 

“So you know you are vile,” you said, and despite your words, begrudgingly strut over and buried your face into his neck, ignoring the dull heat persisting in your lower abdomen. 

Sukuna sighed as you lapped affectionately at the fresh mating bite, closing his eyes and basking in the heat of your body. “I never- ah- denied it in the first place.” 

You pulled back to glower at him, clawed hands settling back on his hips where they belonged—now carrying the weight of your offspring. He reached up to cradle your face now that you were steadying him, unfazed by your glare. 

“And you still love this vile creature?” he murmured, gazing at you with an expression no less than tender.

“Love,” you repeated, like it would make sense if you said it a second time. You felt more for him than just love. If love only made your skin feel warm and your heart beat fast, like the mortals have told, then this feeling was something much, much more than love. 

Sukuna merely grinned, and you knew he felt the same. 

kinktober masterlist! masterlist!

[irndad]

hii dollface, would u write smtg abt hotch being jealous?

like he's trying to hide it from making the team notices when he saw some officer flirting with r?

no pressure in writing, lovey. change it however u want or ignore it if u dont feel like writing it (i completely understands u 🤍)

my love this has lived in my brain so relentlessly <3 i hope you love it!!!! thank you for requesting!! wc: 1.7k

It is incredibly easy to like her.

She’s charismatic in a way that’s almost universally appealing, and he’s memorized the shape of her wide grin. She smiles with her whole face, and Aaron hasn’t really spent too much time trying to make people smile. He’s had success in some ways, but when she smiles at him there’s something in his chest that burns in achingly lovely way. 

At first, he had assumed her kindness was a way to win him over. In her first week, she had noticed there was a rip in his tie (which he’s not sure how could even happen) and she’d whipped out a pocket sewing kit, repairing it. 

He tries not to think about the fact that she’s beautiful. She is, though, in spirit and in appearance. He’s an expert in controlled presentation, but to some extent she must know that’s he’s fond of her. 

When they’d first met (which he can still picture in his minds’ eye- her oversized sweater tucked into her tailored pants, the purple lipstick adorning her beautiful smile) he’d tried to keep his distance. It’s easy to romanticize her, and being her friend felt a little impossible when seeing her as more felt so inevitable.

This plan did not go well, and Aaron had officially tossed it when one day, the babysitter for Jack fell through when he was halfway around the world. She’d picked him up from school and tended to him, and Aaron had come home to a blanket fort on his kitchen floor, and a happy little boy who wanted her to come over every day. 

So it's a little hard to ignore how much he adores her. 

She doesn’t normally want to come out to the scene and they usually don’t require it, but they’re going out to a place she spent most of her twenties, and she knew people in the local PD, so Aaron had asked her to come. 

She’d done so without complaint, although he knows she doesn’t sleep well on the jet. No one knows where the nicer pillows and blankets came from, and Aaron would prefer it that way. 

Anyway. 

The bullpen of this department is chaotic and a certain caretaking is living at the edge of Aaron’s consciousness, a protective desire to keep her from the loudness and violence that she’s typically protected from. 

He’s still thinking this, when he hears her voice over the chaotic hum of the department. 

“Oh my god, Logan!”

Her voice is joyful, and when Aaron turns to see who she’s looking at, it’s an agent. He can tell that he’s not a police officer for many reasons- the fact that he’s got a long, shaggy haircut and a 5 o clock shadow and a leather jacket on his shoulders. The local police would be too strict, and he must be some kind of different authority to be allowed to be here.

He hears the stranger call her name back, and they hug. 

It’s a quick thing, but imbued with deep fondness. Aaron’s not sure he’s ever hugged her for more than a second- just a congratulations when his commendation came in. She’d smelled like roses. 

Now, she’s hugging Logan. 

“Hotch,” she says, a smile still in her voice, “This is Logan! We went to graduate school together. He’s brilliant, I can’t believe he’s down here.”

Her voice is seeped in admiration, and Aaron feels an ugly amount of what can only be described as jealousy. 

“Great to meet you. You’re the unit chief, yeah?”

“SSA Aaron Hotchner,” he offers the man a curt nod, “Have you met the team?”

He goes through the motions of introducing him to the team- he greets Reid with a warm smile and tells him that he’s read his papers. Logan compliments Emily’s shirt, and Morgan’s watch. 

He’s incredibly charismatic.

Is Aaron charismatic? He doesn’t think so. His team, who probably adore him as much as anyone could, still note that he can be harsh, prickly. He never smiles, he knows. He lacks expressiveness. Logan is all fluid movement and easy conversation, and when he takes the jacket off, Aaron sees a great deal of tattoos on his forearm, his sweater sleeves slid up. 

He’d smile for her. 

What should be a good thing, but hurts- Logan is an excellent consultant profiler. He’s thoughtful and helpful and she has an easy rapport with him. Aaron- he’s so bad at talking to women. 

She makes Aaron feel like he’s good at it though. When they drive together, the conversation is easy and feels nice. It’s like sunbathing, basking in the light of her attention and intention. 

With the help of the man that Aaron has decided he hates, the case is finished up quickly. 

He can’t shake the thought they’ve probably dated. It’s not his business- this crush, although this word feels inadequate for the intensity of the way she makes him feel. It’s a private thing he’s never going to act on- he’s older and her superior, and besides- 9 stab wounds and a lifetime worth of issues is a million times less appealing than someone like Logan. Young, exuberant probably not too afraid to ask for what he wants.

“Drink tonight?” Logan asks the team, and a chorus of yes’s and please’s echo through the emptying bullpen. 

“Raincheck,” she says to Logan, “I’ll see you next time I’m in town, yeah?” She beams at him, hugging him in a quick-but-too-long-for-Aaron’s-taste motion, and the string in Aaron’s chest that feels like it’s been pulled all week threatens to pull him under.

After everyone files out, she offers to help him fill out paperwork in his office. It’s just like her, so kind and sweet. Spending her free time filling out reports to make his workload go easier.

About a half hour of amenable silence passes, before Aaron chooses to speak.

“So, you and Logan.”

“He’s great, right?”

Regrettably, Aaron agrees.

“He seems very kind.”

“Yeah, he and his fiancee are really fun. They travel all over, kite-board and do tons of adventure stuff, he’s pretty awesome.”

A moment passes.

It’s like a balloon losing air, the feeling of relief taking the place of panic.

“I thought you two were romantically involved.” He doesn’t know how to verbalize things casually. If he lets it up, he might do something dangerous like tell her that he wants to be someone who romances her, wants to be the person who kisses her after dates and holds an umbrella over her head when she’s caught in the rain. He wants to be what she comes homes to, and it’s a confession living in the back of his throat, threatening to escape at every moment. 

She sucks in a harsh breath, and he wonders if it’s a misstep to have told her- it’s not a confession, really. It sounds like one though- why would he care? What makes it his business?

“Not that that’s relevant to me,” he stammers, “You’re free to engage with whoever you’d like-“

“I know, Hotch.” She doesn’t grace him with his first name, but her voice is fond and warm, her doe eyes meeting his. He likes it, he decides. 

“I’m not seeing him,” she continues, her body shifting to face him, “I think he’s a little…casual for me.”

He thinks of Logan’s leather jacket and unshaven face, rugged appearance and compares it to how he presents himself- clean cut and sharp lines, his suits tailed to fit him like a glove. 

“You prefer something a little more…dignified?” He hears himself say with more confidence then he feels- her implication is clear, but he wonders if he’s mishearing it. 

She tips her head back and he hears her lovely laugh ring through the air like something sacred, and he waits to hear her response. 

“I don’t know, I just know that I’ve been liking this guy for a while,” she muses, looking down at her fingernails, “But he hasn’t seemed to pick up on any of my hints.”

On one of his braver days, he’d told her that he liked that purple lipstick. He hasn’t seen her without it since. She’d always been so kind to everyone that it was hard to notice when her treatment towards him was special, but he thinks it might be. How quick she offers to help with Jack- gives away a Saturday evening to spend with him, even though she sees too much of his face at work.

Her friend from grad school offered to get drinks, and she’s here, telling him what she looks for in a guy.

He tries to be logical about the whole thing, but it’s a bit hard- she’s funny and warm and Aaron loves being around her- loves her company enough to maybe ask for more of it. 

“If this ‘guy’ did like you,” he murmurs, intentionally not meeting her gaze, the precision of which is boring a hole into the side of his head, “How would he go about that?”

He’s not sure what the point of being coy is now, but he can’t seem to stop. He does look down to her and meet her eyes. 

“I think I’d probably corner him,” she says breathlessly. They’re quite close together, now. He wonders if she likes his aftershave. She tugs a hundred through her hair, a nervous but incredibly attractive gesture, “Y’know, if everyone we worked with went to get drinks, and it was just us. If he was amenable to that.”

“If he was amenable to that.”

A rush of emotion licks up his spine- it’s fun, flirting with her. The creep of warmth on her cheek, how her fingers are brushing hers. 

“I think he might be.”

Purple lipstick, rose perfume mixing with the scent of expensive aftershave- he thinks he might be able to kiss her, now. He’s never been good at knowing when to take the jump, but this is something he can do. He can let her know that he wants it. 

She reads him well enough, it turns out, and she kisses him. It’s a surprise and he is so rusty at this and yet- his hand stand on the small of her back, pulling her in and he can feel her lovely smile against him. She’s warm and joyful and she’d kissed him, and all he could do was lean in-

“I think he might be too.” She says, significantly less color on her lips, and more on his, he imagines.

She doesn’t have to wonder, though. When Aaron kisses her again, he decides- he will make her incredibly certain of his affections. 

[ghostiesen]

yandere!ticci toby x male reader

incoming voice message ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|• 0:10 : i am SO sorry for the amount of time u guys had to wait for this, but it's finally here! i tried to stay quite accurate with toby's personality, but well i have a specific vision of him and i can't quite force myself away from it,,, i hope u guys enjoy this either way <3

content includes: swearing, obsessive behavior, unhealthy behavior, possessiveness, carving his initials, kidnapping, murder mention, implied stockholm syndrome, stalking, tell me if i missed something!

art by: antlergrave, shatteredankles

You shut the door closed behind you, your heart thumping loudly against your ribcage as you press yourself against it. You take a deep breath in, trying to calm yourself and your racing heart down.

But, just then, you hear a loud bang against the door, making you flinch. You swallow thickly, your jaw visibly tensing. Now, you wish you never said those words to him.

"I'll show you, baby. Maniac? Sick? Psychopath?" he says, chuckling as he presses his palm flat against the door. "I'll show you psychopath, angel," he says, his voice quiet, but he's so close to the door you can hear him loud and clear, as if he knows how you're pressing right against it, as if he can feel the rapid beat of your heart.

"Is that what you think of me? I'm – I'm out here fucking protecting you from them, and you're calling me a psychopath, angel?" he laughs, pressing his forehead against the door, and you swear you can hear his sick smile as he speaks. It sends a shiver down your spine, and you hate how helpless just the mere sound of his laugh makes you feel, as if he's mocking you, knowing he will win no matter what. Knowing that at the end of the day he will always find you and catch you, like a weak, sick little puppy, too scared of the outside world.

For all you know, he probably enjoys every second of it.

And oh, he does.

What would you even do without him, anyway? He could keep you safe, warm, fed. Maybe not happy, because you can't seem to love him back, but surely that will come too, with time.

But Toby doesn't get it. He doesn't get any of it. He loves you, protects you, makes sure you're healthy, and yet you try your hardest to leave him? How ungrateful. But he will show you. He will show you why you should be careful, why you should crave his love, his touch, his warmth.

You'd call him twisted, no? For purposefully putting you in danger, all on your own, just to show you what happens when he's not there. To show you that you need him, that you can't do anything without him. Will he care, if you do call him sick and twisted?

He won't.

You've been doing it for so long, he will just laugh in your face, watch as your eyes go wide in fear, and tilt his head at you in a mocking manner, knowing you can't overpower him or do anything against him.

Watching him, seeing him laugh as you speak, it will fill your senses with dread. It will make your heart sink and beat rapidly, and it's so loud you swear he can hear it, making him look at you with a predatory nature, making your body freeze in fear.

༺♰༻ Yandere Ticci Toby who swears seeing you so defiant made his blood boil with anger, but now it just makes arousal pool into his stomach. He really started getting fond of your attitude. It will be fun getting rid of it, watching you finally learn to appreciate everything he does for you and begin to love him.

༺♰༻ Yandere Ticci Toby who, despite knowing he will always get you back no matter what, hates it when you leave. It stems from when his sister died, making him feel like he needs to force you to stick with him, and he will not tolerate it if you try to leave. Don't get him started on what happens if you do succeed, temporarily, of course. A person he loved died and left him before, he won't let it happen twice.

༺♰༻ Yandere Ticci Toby who felt like part of him died the day his sister died. And, to some degree, it's true. His past self died, and some could say he turned into a worse version of himself. He would like to call it a huge improvement, though… If you ignore his abandonment issues. You won't leave him like his sister did.

༺♰༻ Yandere Ticci Toby who enjoys the chase. Can you blame him? Sure, he's just a litte sadistic, but the way you whimper in fear gets him going. You always act so defiant at first, and then your fear finally sets in, and you're crying, shaking your head and hoping that he doesn't hurt you again. He thinks it's adorable.

"Just… Just let me go. Please." you whisper, a hint of desperation in your voice as you look up at Toby. You didn't even understand why it had to be you of all people. You hadn't met Toby before you caught him in the middle of the night in your home.

That was why you were still so confused about why it had to be you. You weren't even aware someone was stalking you until you woke up in the middle of the night once because you were thirsty. When you went to grab a glass of water, he was standing in your living room, acting as if you were the rude one for trying to attack him.

He happily took that as a chance to finally take you home and keep you all to himself. He had been so nice and patient, he deserved this reward, really.

Toby had actually been stalking you for a few months before that incident. Originally, he found out about you when you unknowingly saved his last victim — not for long, though — by showing up to his home unannounced.

The guy was your friend, someone you had known for a few months prior to the incident. Well, it was an incident for Toby really… You had no idea. Neither of you did.

Until your dear friend showed up dead on the news, of course. Something something stabbed and bludgeoned to death with hatchets. Not his cleanest work, but he had to rush it since you became his object of interest, soon to be object of obsession.

Originally, you were just trying to show up unannounced to make sure your friend knew you cared about him and his wellbeing after he told you he was feeling weird, noticing objects just slightly misplaced from where he last remembered they were placed. The first few times he convinced himself he was imagining it, that he was just being paranoid. After the twentieth time he was convinced something wasn't right, but no one else would listen, really.

So you tried to be there and believe him, knowing that he lived alone, you wanted to show up randomly knowing that these things would happen at odd times. You knew if something was really off, they would reconsider if there were two people around. Or at least have second thoughts.

Not like it mattered in the end. More so, it fucked you over as well.

Toby was sitting on the fire escape staircase, just outside your friend's window. His mouth guard was on, hiding the sinister smile on his face. The moonlight was shining down on his pale skin, as if accentuating it. In his right hand he held a hatchet, toying with it as if it wasn't the same weapon he used to take the life away from his victims.

Slowly, he glances up through the window of the small apartment, taking note of the fact that his victim was currently vulnerable. He took a mental note earlier of how paranoid he was, but somehow still stupid enough to not think of locking the fire escape window. Some people truly made this too easy, so easy it almost felt like mockery.

With a calculated breath, he quietly slid the window open with his free hand, briefly glancing into the apartment before he carefully jumped over the window sill, making his way inside.

He had been in here several times before, glanced thoroughly at every object inside, he had no need to take a look again and check for cameras. He already knew the apartment like the back of his hand and his victim wasn't even dead yet.

He pressed himself flat against the edge of the wall, noticing his victim sitting down on the couch, completely unaware. His grip tightens slightly on the hatchet, but right when he's about to push himself off the wall, he hears the doorbell ring. His eyebrows furrow in annoyance, yet he makes no noise as he leaves just as swiftly and quietly as he entered.

With a curious tilt of his head, he sits by the window and listens as you speak to his victim. You apologize to him for showing up unannounced, then proceed to voice your concerns.

This was the first time you showed up. It never went like this in the past few months since he has been watching his victim.

His gaze focuses on your frame as you enter the small apartment, taking in your features. At the sound of your name, it's almost like the gears shift in his brain.

Next time he wants to strike, he can't be as slow and calculated. He will have to be fast with it now that his attention seems to have shifted.

This was new, and his patience has been running thin since long. He could not afford wasting more of his time on a victim that held no significance. He did not want to wait until you became a routine to this… useless individual.

Hearing the news of what happened to your friend was like getting a punch in the gut. Every sound around you was completely muffled by the loud buzzing in your ears, so loud you could barely hear your own heartbeat. It was like your vision just became blurry, and you weren't able to even properly feel the couch you were sitting on. You weren't properly able to feel your own limbs.

At first it was more so shocking, what happened hadn't fully set in. It almost felt like a cruel joke. Knowing that your friend, who you saw just a few days prior, was now just… gone. About to be buried next week with no leads on his case.

You didn't go to the funeral, deciding to just visit his grave on your own. How would you feel going to his funeral, seeing everybody else in his life that would feel so overwhelmed with the fact they didn't believe him when he said something was wrong? The guilt these people would feel would no doubt make everything even more hard to swallow. No one said funerals had to be filled with happiness, but this one must've been completely unbearable, as if you were suffocating, slowly running out of breath and yet still conscious to everything around you.

"What the fuck." you muttered under your breath, your eyes filled with pure horror as you stared face to face with a man you did not even know. Of course this had to happen the one time you wake up thirsty in the middle of the night.

"Oh. Hey sweetheart." he inhales deeply, but you can see the corner of his mouth twisting up just slightly. Not only does it make you realize that he has a gash on the left side of his face, deep enough to see his molars and gums, but it also makes your heart beat even louder in your ears, not helping that your instincts were already screaming at you and telling you that you were the prey.

You instinctively take a step back, and his gaze immediately shifts to your feet, a sinister smirk on his face as he takes a step forward.

"God, I've always wanted to see you closer. Not really in this circumstance, but maybe it's a sign." he snickers, and you can feel his predatory gaze rake over your body, sending a shiver running down your spine.

In the blink of an eye, you lunge at him, punching him in the face. For a second, he falters, his head facing away from you, but you can see the corners of his mouth twist upwards, and somehow the act alone makes pure fear rush through your veins.

"I do like them feisty," he says, wiping his nose with the back of his hand before finally standing straight, looking at you. "Honestly, angel, you're really just making the matters worse for yourself. You have been since the beginning." he continues, taking a step forward, then another, slowly getting closer to you.

You're too confused to notice. You haven't seen him in your entire life. You don't know who he is or what he's even talking about.

"Pretty little thing, aren't you?" he whispers in your ear, and it's only then that you notice how close he had gotten. "The world isn't kind to clueless things, angel. Doesn't help how pretty you are," he continues, and your breath hitches as you feel his left hand on your hip, as if keeping you in place to make sure you don't act out again. "Keeping you all to myself might just be the only solution, really. You'll understand, won't you?" he asks, but you notice there's a hint of a threat in his tone. This was not a choice, not at all.

A sob racks your body, and it all just feels like too much. You're frozen in fear, and even then, you wouldn't be able to do much with the tight grip he had on you.

"Please." you begged, voice quiet and yet filled with so much raw emotion, Toby almost felt bad.

"It's okay angel. I've got you now. I'll keep you safe, you'll see." he coos, yet it only makes you sob violently, your whole body shaking in his grasp.

Next thing you know, everything goes black as he knocks you out.

Meanwhile, he felt like he could die from happiness right then and there. You were so perfect, yet so unpredictable. This was the second time you had made him stray off his plans, really, he didn't expect you to just walk into the kitchen the same moment he was there, and yet it just kept feeling like you wanted him to take you with him, to make sure you're all his.

That's probably why you liked interrupting his thought out plans. You wanted him as well, you wanted to be his.

Even if it was a coincidence, Toby was sure it was fate. Even if you didn't want him yet, you'll want him later.

When your eyes finally flutter open, you instantly feel the sharp pain in your head. Bringing your right hand up to feel it, your fingers instantly graze the bandages.

With a sigh, your left hand caresses the soft fabric of the bed sheets, and it almost felt normal if it wasn't for the headache and the bandages. Glancing around, you realize quickly that this wasn't your room, and you take a mental note of the lack of restraints. You weren't handcuffed, tied or chained. In fact, you were completely free to roam around as you wished.

Quietly standing up from the bed, you notice how weak your legs feel, but your determination to find out where you are is stronger than finding out how long you've been unconscious.

Walking up to the windows in the room, your eyebrows furrow in confusion as the only thing you can see is a vast forest. More so, it seems like you're in a cabin. With a frustrated huff, you move towards the door that leads outside this room, but just as you were about to open it, it slides open and your kidnapper — the male you first met in your kitchen — comes in.

"Good. You're awake." he closes the door behind him, standing in front of it. You take notice of that, taking a few steps back to seem like you're going to comply.

"Who are you?" you ask almost instantly, voice slightly quiet, but your tone had a hint of determination in it.

He snickers, and you notice the mouth guard he had on. It gives you hope for a brief moment, that maybe you're not so far from civilization if he wore that. He wouldn't leave you alone for a long time when there was a high chance you'd leave, which means he must've not been gone for long.

"Toby. Now, I understand you must be curious, but first of all, we need rules." he starts, leaning against the door and crossing his arms over his chest. You swallow thickly, glancing away briefly before meeting his predatory gaze. You took the moment to look at his appearance, noting how his brown hair was unkept and his brown eyes were dull, his pupils foggy. It made you wonder what happened to him, but that wasn't important to you right now.

"First, you're not leaving. Don't even think about it. Punishments are severe, I'll leave that up to your imagination, sweetheart," he continues, and you know he's not joking when you glance at his hips, noticing the holster for his hatchets. He could hurt you if he wanted to.

"Second, you're going to behave. Again, punishments are severe. This is the last time I'll repeat it." you swear you can hear a hint of smugness in his voice, and you know it's probably because you haven't talked back yet.

"And third, of course, you'll listen to me. I want my pretty little thing to be obedient, but I'm sure it's fine if you need a little… training." he finishes, pushing himself off of the door and taking his mouth guard off. He was smirking, and it made you want to wipe it off his face so hard.

Seeing him take a step towards you made you instantly step back, and as he sees this, he tilts his head to the side with a raise of his eyebrow. You swallow thickly, but you could tell he noticed you trembling when his gaze raked over your body.

"Oh, come on. I'm not gonna hurt you… too much." he chuckles, then walks over to you. "I said I'd take care of you, didn't I, [Name]?" at the mention of your name, your eyes widen and you gasp quietly. For a moment, all you could hear was your own heartbeat, but your blood was boiling.

Suddenly, you shove him backwards, and you can tell you caught him by surprise when he let out a soft gasp. You glare at him, your fists balled up at your sides.

"How do you know my name? Who – who even are you? How the fuck do you know me?" you stutter, clearly fed up with whatever was going on. It was all so overwhelming.

He scoffs, and the look on his face makes fear rush through your veins, but you ignore it. You wanted to stand your ground. "Who do you think killed your little friend? Really, the first time you showed up was when he was supposed to die, anyway. But my pretty little thing had other plans for me. For us." he explains, and for the second time today it felt like the wind was knocked from your lungs. Your kidnapper was your friends killer.

"Matter of fact, you made yourself mine the second my eyes landed on you. You belong to me now, whether you like it or not. Of course, worst case scenario you end up like your friend, but oh, my dear angel, I would really dislike it if I had to do that to you." he threatens, and by the time you notice, he was right in front of you, leaning down, your faces just inches apart. What instilled more fear in you, though, was the cold blade pressing against your abdomen.

"Shall I give you a reminder? Maybe remember this as… your first punishment." he pushes you down onto the soft sheets, getting on top of you. "I must add, you do look quite good under me." he smirks, and you can hear it in his voice.

Every information, every word he spoke, it all just made you freeze in fear. It felt like you couldn't even move, like you couldn't even breathe. You didn't even notice the tears falling down your cheeks until he wiped them away, giving you a soft kiss on each cheek as if it was going to take away all of your pain.

"It's okay, my sweet. I'll keep you safe." he coos, meeting your fearful gaze. He wasn't smirking, although his gaze did hold a predatory hint to it, his gaze was mostly affectionate.

And then, you could feel his cold hands move your shirt up, just enough to expose the skin of your abdomen to the cold air in the room. He gently caressed your skin, making you flinch away from his cold hands. In turn, he grabbed your waist, holding you down as he brought the tip of his hunting knife to your skin, carving his initials in it painfully slow.

"This, angel, is a reminder that you belong to me. That you belong to Tobias Rogers." he whispers, his voice low and gentle despite his actions. Your entire body was shaking with sobs, pleading for him to stop. He just shushed you and kept going, giving you small kisses from time to time as if it would take away the pain.

When you managed to escape him, the mere idea of him kept you up at night. When you did manage to sleep from time to time, you would always wake up in the middle of the night, more paranoid than ever.

Scared that he will show up just like the day the two of you first met.

And yet, every time you looked into the mirror, your eyes kept wondering to the scar on your abdomen that just wouldn't heal.

You kept scraping it every time. It was the only thing you had left from him.

From Tobias Rogers.

But somehow, you had a feeling it wouldn't be the last you would see of him. He did say you would never leave him, that you belonged to him forever. Maybe it was true. Maybe he was right.

incoming voice message ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|• 0:10 : i procrastinated sm im so sorry this took 50 years omg... anyways the word count is like 3.7k words !!! reminder that requests are open

[mochinomnoms]

Fellow desert dweller!

It's always so exciting to see someone else who understands how hot things can truly be! Where I live, it gets hot enough in the summer that you can fry an egg on the sidewalk!

Just last week, I commented on how nice it felt outside and it was 90 degrees 😭

It honestly remind me of Jade in the Harveston event. Everyone talks about how cold the water is and Jade just says "It seems quite warm to me."

Like imagine yuu comes from a desert/generally hot place and when it gets super hot outside and everyone is sweating and dying and yuu just says "Oh, I thought it was pretty cool out today."

I can just imagine yuu talking about their home and telling anyone from octavinelle, really, about the egg thing. I always bring it up because I think it's funny, but I can't imagine how crazy that sounds to someone from a place as cold as the coral sea.

also sorry i haven't sent anything in a bit! i got my first full time job and it's been a lot to get used too. I still made sure to read all ur new posts tho ;3

Hope you're doing well! ^^

-🦷

Hi teeth anon! it's so nice to hear from you again!! I am def a desert dweller at heart I love hot weather and ideally I'd stay in the desert forever but I do plan to move to the Pacific Northwest in the future ;-; it so cold there....

I like to imagine a desert Yuu coming into NRC and being so fond of Savanaclaw and Scarabia because it reminds them of home. They're there so often they practically become another member of the dorm! The others are curious (some perhaps a bit jealous) that you've become so close to the others because of the sheer amount of time you spend in their dorms.

For the whole egg thing, I think you're right that the octotrio would be both fascinated and mildly horrified at the idea of weather hot enough to cook food on the ground. In my city, we sometimes have people put baking sheets and cookie dough in their cars to make cookies, and I can just imagine the perplexed looks on Azul and Jade's faces and Floyd's look of fascination.

What do you mean it gets hot enough to bake cookies in a car, don't you know how hot it needs to get to bake cookies!?

They really ought to understand where you're coming from, though, they have very similar reactions to describing the cold of the deep sea!

[mommytauriel]

+ · 。~ thunder and tipsy confessions

pairing: finan x female! reader | genre: fluff, drunk confessions, idk tbh | warnings: small fear of thunder, just so much fluff, kissing | wc: 2k |

synopsis: with the help of some ale, finan finds the courage to tell you how he feels.

request: no but it’s for my bestie Lexi 😙

note: i love finan sm, he's the best. This is kinda rushed so i blame that if this totally sucks. now i can start working on some requests!

thank you @dailytlk for letting me use the lovely gifs <3

Finan wouldn't say he was drunk. No, he would say he's ‘Tipsy’. He was alone in his room at the inn, sitting at the creaky wood table, drinking the ale the over friendly woman left him. He couldn't go out to the alehouse and drink with others. The weather outside was bad, the wind was loud and so was the rain and thunder. He couldn't drink with uhtred, sihtric, Osferth or you because you all had retired to your rooms. Getting some much-needed rest. 

They had rode into the town earlier, having to stop because of the weather. Uhtred wasn't happy about losing another day of riding but he knew his men and you needed the rest. Finan was tired all day but couldn't fall asleep when he laid down. So, he resorted to drinking, not the smartest idea, but he needed something to do. And the more he drank and the louder the thunder got, the more he thought of you. 

You wouldn't say you were afraid of the thunder. You just aren't fond of the loud noises. You tried to sleep but you couldn't find peace in the sound of the storm. So, you just laid in the surprisingly comfortable bed, your eyes not leaving the lit fireplace. Your eyes were struggling to keep open and every time they would close, and you felt yourself drifting off to sleep, only for the loud thunder to wake you up. 

It was only when the thunder quitend when you felt yourself drift off again only to be awakened again. But this time it wasnt by the thunder, no it was from someone knocking on your door. Your eyes fluttered open, and you let out a frustrated groan that was covered by the sound of the rain. You sit up and fling the warm blankets off your legs, your bare feet touching the cold floor as you rush to the door. You unlock it and swing the heavy wood door open. 

In front of you stood a grinning Finan, clad in green sleeveless tunic and brown trousers. Finan’s eyes lit up when you opened the door, and he couldn't stop his eyes from raking over your body. You were leaning against your door, dressed in a large white blouse that stopped before your knees, the top string of the blouse untied. Finan quickly brings his eyes back to your face, his cheeks becoming flushed at the sight of you. 

“Are you okay?” You question him, emphasizing you. You watched with tired eyes as he slightly swayed before leaning against the door frame. He definitely has been drinking you think to yourself. 

“I’m a tad bit tipsy” Finan chirped, his hand coming up to scratch at his beard-covered chin, his eyes not leaving yours. “Just a tad” You repeat his words as you tilt your head, the look on your face showing that you did not believe him.

“Just a wee amount” Finan chuckles, bringing his pointer finger and his thumb close together in a pinch; almost touching. You felt your lips twitch up in amusement at his actions, he was cute when he was tipsy. 

“What are you doing here Finan?” You ask with a tired smile.

“I wanted to make sure you are okay, i know how much ya hate the thunder” Finan smiles, a hint of worry in his eyes. He could tell that you didn't get any sleep from the tiredness in your eyes. While he was silently worrying about you, you were silently freaking out by the fact that he remembered your fear and checked on you. 

“I’m okay, jus tired that's all” you said with a shy smile, hoping that he wouldn't notice how flustered you are by his words. 

“Well, if ya ask nicely, a handsome Irish man is more than willing to join you in your bed” He flirts with a coquettish wink, leaning closer to you. His eyes subtly looking over your figure again, he had to stop himself from putting his hand on your waist and pulling you close to him. 

“Well, if you find one, send him my way, will you?” You bantered with a teasing smile, leaning closer to him as well, your blouse moving as well; showing him a clear view of your collarbone that he just wanted to lean down and press kisses against. Finan hides his smirk at the sight and brings his eyes back up to your face. 

“Well, you're just breaking my heart, gorgeous” Finan says with a dramatic gasp as he rests his hand on his heart. You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't stop the smile that spread across your face from his dramatics. 

“Are you gonna let me in?” He says with a small smirk after a few moments of silence between the two of you. Finan’s eyes raked over your face silently begging that you would let him in. 

“You're not drinking my ale Finan” You joke as you step to the side letting him in. Finan laughs and steps inside of your room mumbling ‘no promises’. You roll your eyes again and close and lock the door before turning around to face him. 

You watched as Finan walked towards your bed, sitting down and leaning against your headboard. His eyes scanned over your room, it was almost identical to his, but your bed was far comfier. His eyes stopped on your side table, specifically the wood cup that was on it. 

“One no more drinking and two get your nasty boots off my bed” You sigh in fake annoyance as you take the wooden cup of ale out of his hands, he did not need any more ale. Finan groans and tries to reach for the cup, but you move your arm away and the cup out of his reach. You send him a pointed look before turning around and walking over to the table by the fireplace to set the cup down. Finan’s eyes shamelessly follow your figure. 

“Why do you sound annoyed?” Finan groans, annoyed that he had to sit up, he pulls off his boots, letting them drop onto the wooden floor. His eyes watching as you walk closer to him, standing at the end of your bed. 

“Because you're annoying me” You tease him as you climb into bed and under the sheets. You lay on your side facing Finan, watching as he gets under the blanket and lays on his side, facing you.

 The fire was heating the room, protecting the two of you from the cold of the storm. The rain was getting heavier, and the wind was getting louder. You flinched and closed your eyes at the loud clap of thunder that startled you. 

“The thunder won't hurt you ya know?” Finan said in a comforting tone, his eyes looking over your tired face. Your eyes flutter open, meeting Finan’s brown eyes and before you could say anything he's already talking. 

“I wouldn't let it,” Finan whispered in a surprisingly soft tone. 

“Oh? You're gonna fight the thunder for me?” You whisper back with a smile. Finan brings his hand up and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, his warm but rough hand brushing against your cheek, leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

“I would fight anyone for you, you're worth fighting for” he declared in a serious tone, his eyes not leaving yours. You wanted yourself to believe his words, but you just couldn't, not only was he tipsy he also was naturally flirty, he said sweet things all the time. 

“You're only saying this because you're tipsy” you sigh with a frown, averting your eyes from him to look down at the sheets. Finan frowns and brings his finger under your chin and softly tilts your head up to look into your eyes. 

“I promise to you I'm not that tipsy, trust that my words are true…because they are,” he promised sincerely. He watched as you opened your mouth to say something, only to close it because you didn't know what to say. You honestly didn't expect this to happen. 

“I care for you y/n…so much. I was in my room, and I couldn't stop thinking about how I wanted to be in here with you, telling you that you were safe and that you didn't need to be scared because I would protect ya…i want to be here for you y/n, always.” 

“I know that it might be hard to trust my words, but I promise to ya that the ale just gave me the confidence to tell you how I feel” he said in a joking tone, starting to get nervous at the fact that you haven't said anything. He would like to think that he was prepared if you kicked him out of your bed and room, saying that you did not feel the same way, but he knew deep down that that would hurt more than any wound he could suffer from. 

“Finan…i…” you mumbled; you truly didn't know what to say. You have known Finan for years, years of his sweet talking, his flirting, and years of having to tell yourself that he didn't mean it. That he didn't want you, but now he is here. Laying in your bed telling you all the things you have been wanting to hear.  

“You don't have to say anything if you're not ready…i just wanted you to-” Finan’s words get cut off when you lean forward and capture his lips in yours. The shock he felt from the kiss caused him to pause but he quickly kissed back, moving his hand to your waist and pulling you closer. He deepens the kiss when he feels your hand slide up to his nape, softly tugging at his hair making a grunt escape from his lips.

Finan smirks in the kiss and softly nips at your bottom lip before slowly pulling away from the kiss. During the kiss you somehow ended up leaning against him, your leg draped over his middle. Finan opens his eyes to see you already looking at him.  

“Whoa gorgeous, i could get drunk off these lips” His voice was husky, his thumb rubbing over your bottom lip. You giggle at his words and kiss his cheek before laying back down, your head on his shoulder and your hand on his chest, absentmindedly fidgeting with his cross. 

“I taste better than ale huh?” You say breathlessly with a smirk as you tilt your head to look at him. The fire and the moonlight peeking through the window was giving you the perfect view of Finan. He was so beautiful, you remember telling him that once, that he was beautiful. You were drunk and Finan had laughed and brushed it off, little did you know that he was freaking out on the inside and that that was all he thought about for the rest of the night. 

“Ohh way better love” He laughs, his hand under the blanket resting on your bare thigh draped over his middle. If the amazing kiss the two of you just shared didn't have his heart beating out of your chest, the sight of you definitely did. You were nestled into his side, your beautiful eyes looking up at him, your lips still plump and red from the kiss. You looked so pretty like this. 

“I care for you, Finan” You whispered, you watched as a wide grin spread across Finan’s face. You really did care for him; you have for a while now. With your words you gave Finan your heart. 

“Just promise that you won't regret this in the morning” you mumbled as you looked up at him, Finan sensed the worry in your tone, and he pulled you closer and looked down at you. He didn't like the sadness in your eyes, especially when this was supposed to be a happy moment. Finan leans down to kiss your forehead. 

“The only thing I regret is that I didn’t tell you sooner” he promises as he looks into your eyes, his hand on your thigh tracing random things on it leaving goosebumps. You tried to move your leg, trying to get away from the tickling feeling, but Finan doesn't let you, he just grabs your thigh and squeezes it gently. 

“I promise y/n” he whispers in the shell of your ear, his lip brushing against it. You giggle at the ticklish feeling and hide your face in his neck making him laugh. God you were so cute he thought. You closed your eyes and felt yourself relax in his arms. 

“The thunder seems to be gone” he said after a few moments of silence between the two of you. You were so caught up in your thoughts, all of them being about Finan, that you didn't even notice. 

“You kept me safe” you joked as you snuggled closer to him if it was possible. Finan smiled and kissed your forehead. He would always keep you safe in any situation, you meant so much to him. He was so thankful that he found the courage to tell you how he felt tonight, because he didn't think he could have handled another night of you not being his and vice versa. 

“Always” 

note: okay i kinda hate this, i don't think i paced this well at all. But nonetheless i hope you guys enjoyed it, comments, likes and reblogs are very much appreciated!

I’m thinking about making a Wattpad book that has all my writings for tlk? Title suggestions please? 😫

copyright ©️ 2023, all rights reserved. you can't copy, translate, reproduce, repost my fic, use my plot or layout. 

[dancingtotuyo]

Before | 3. we could live quite happily

A Woman Story

Rating: Mature

Warnings: fluff and happiness

Notes: Thank you @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for reminding me this added something to the story even if I felt like "nothing really happened"

Words: 1167

Series Masterlist | Woman Masterlist | Author Masterlist

“What kind of flowers do you want?”

“Gabe, we’re getting married in November, there’s not going to be any flowers.” You roll your eyes, scraping the last remnants from the salad Gabe brought you for lunch. 

“Mrs. Bleeker always has potted flowers.”

“Oh yes, walking down the aisle with a three-foot potted plant is such a good idea.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Your fiancé rolls his eyes. “Do you not want flowers?”

You laugh. “Gabe, I just wanna marry you.”

“You don’t have any dreams for your wedding?”

“First off, it’s our wedding. Secondly, any dreams I had of my wedding day went down the drain a long time ago.”

“What was your dream?” Gabe leans across the table with an award-winning smile, the one that makes you feel half your age. 

His eyes sparkle under the clinic lights. He’s ready to make some big fanciful daydream and drag you into it. You wonder how he’s kept that approach to life all these years, always building some new world to escape to, figuring out what he could pull from those into yours. It’s one of the things you love about him. 

“I’m not playing this game right now. We have work to do before the doc gets back.” 

You had a doctor wander into Jackson about 6 months ago. Since getting the damn working and electricity restored to Jackson, you and he work on getting the old clinic cleaned up. The wall expansion is almost complete, making it worth everyone’s while to invest in cleaning up the shops and buildings, including the old clinic. Gabe is helping, or supposed to be helping. You have a feeling he’s more interested in wedding planning. 

“Come on, Doleful. We can do both.” 

You grab a bucket, refilling it with warm soapy water. “You know, one would think calling your fiancée Doleful is a good way to end up without one.”

Doleful, you’ve grown oddly fond of the nickname. It reminds you of who you were when you met him and how far you’ve come. It’s a part of Gabe’s magical imagination. It’s how he stays connected to them, the family he lost on outbreak day. 

He kisses your cheek. “Well, you sure as hell ain’t Wistful.” 

You splash water at him. He laughs and you can’t help the smile overtaking your face. “Oh? Is that the 9th dwarf who never was?”

“No, it was the 10th,” he winks. 

You roll your eyes as the two of you settle into silence wiping years of dust and grime from the shelves with lye soap. 

Your brain sits with Gabe’s words. Try as you might to keep it at bay, the wedding you always thought you’d have drifts into your brain. 

“Maybe it’s a southern thing…”

Gabe stops his work, turning to face you. You keep your eyes glued to your task. 

“But I always pictured getting married in a field somewhere with tall grass or wildflowers or something all around.” You shrug. “Something real simple.”

Gabe beams back at you and you roll your eyes. “We could wait until summer if you wanted-“

“No,” you say quickly. Gabe furrows his brow. “I don’t want to wait any longer.” 

He kisses you. “Good. Neither do I.”

“Then why did you offer?” 

“Because that’s the one thing you’ve told me you wanted.”

“Not true. I said I wanted Maria to officiate.”

“That doesn’t count and you know it.” He crosses his arms. “She officiates all the weddings.” 

He wasn’t wrong. There had been a surprising amount of matrimony since the group settled in Jackson 3 years ago. 

“But she’s my best friend.”

“Fine, you win.” Gabe kisses you. 

“Practicing for marriage, Gabe?” Maria enters the clinic with someone hot on her heels. 

“You know it.” Gabe smiles, ever the charmer. You can’t help but smile. That’s your man. 

Gabe stretches his hand to the newcomer, making the introduction before Maria can. “Gabe Rowland.”

There’s something familiar about him. You try to recall where you’ve seen him before. 

“Tommy Miller.” He shakes Gabe’s hand and it clicks.

“Holy shit.” You say. 

Three sets of eyes snap to you. You see the recognition in his, but he hasn’t placed you.”

Gabe introduces you to him. “My fiancée.”

“You’re Sarah’s uncle.” 

Tommy’s eyes furrow. “Haven’t been called that in a long time.” He cocks his head to the side. The implications set a pit in your stomach. It’s not hard to assume the reason. Your name plays off his lips. “Wait a second-“ 

“You two know each other?” Maria asks. 

“You were Sarah’s babysitter.” 

“And you were the reason I made it through college debt-free. Joel always paid me extra when he had to bail you out of county lockup in the middle of the night.”

Maria’s eyes snap back to Tommy. You see the former assistant DA in her come out. “Should I be worried about him?”

Tommy looks a little worried like you hold his fate in his hands as he remembers all the times he teased you in Joel’s kitchen. “He’s good, Maria. No worries. Might be able to help with the wall. He was a contractor in his former life

Maria relaxes, looking Tommy up and down. “Good, I like knowing I made the right call.”

Tommy’s hardly aged. A few more wrinkles but there’s not a streak of gray in his jet-black hair, still cut at the same length from 15 years ago. You want to ask him about Sarah and Joel, but you can’t. Everyone lost people. No one likes to talk about it. 

“Gabe,” Maria says. “Will you finish showing Tommy around? I need to steal your fiancée for a little bit.” 

“Of course.” Gabe kisses your head. “Come on, Tommy, you look like you could use a drink. Maybe I can get some stories out of you about my fiancée.”

“I got plenty.” Tommy grins. 

You shake your head as they leave, curiosity piquing as you follow Maria’s eye line right to Tommy.  

“Those two are gonna be trouble together,” you say. 

“What makes you think that?”

“Tommy was 10 times the troublemaker Gabe is. Somehow, I don’t think that’s changed.”

Maria raises an eyebrow. “As long as he does his share.”

“Are you a part of his share?”

Maria’s eyes snap back to you, narrowing. You bite back a giggle, smile overtaking your face. 

“You know I miss when you didn’t laugh and smile like a schoolgirl.”

“You do not.” You wave her off. “You’re just mad I clocked it so fast.”

“I’ll remind you, I won a nice scarf the night you left the dance with Gabe.”

“I assure you, I stayed much warmer,” You stick your tongue out at her. A little childish for sure, but happy nonetheless. “Looks better on you than it ever did on Rachel anyway.”

Maria's stern expression eases up. You can tell she’s biting back laughter. “Not a word, okay? To anyone.”

“My lips are sealed.”

[overtaken-stream]

Drunk Deeds

Dracule "Hawk-Eye" Mihawk x F!Reader

Notes 1: I wanted (Y/N) to have met Zoro at some point in the pre-time skip as a foe (She lost) and since Zoro is an exceptional swordsman in her eyes, she (forcefully) choose him as her teacher after their brawl, unfortunately for Zoro, Kuma repelled you to the same place as our fav moss head. Note 2: I completely forgot about ages, but reader is older than Zoro, bc I find it funny for a grown woman to beg 19 y/o boy to teach her his swordsman ways. Note 3: It isn't specified if she is a straw hat, I left that open. Note 4: All this does not matter because I never mention it anyway.

Warnings: Oral(female receiving), wine involvement in a sexual activity.

The taste of grapes remains on your tongue, the calm, an almost invisible buzz of alcohol was underlining your headache that's been long forgotten now that the causes are thrown outside, out of your domain of expertise.

Your eyes wander over to the World Economy Newspaper, the major source of information covered in sweet propaganda and untruthful words regarding the newest attraction, the aftermath of the Summit War of Marineford. The monochrome pictures are scattered on the page and long paragraphs cry out for attention. Truly a tragedy to have greed decor and cover the crimes against humanity committed by the Marines.

Whether it's the gruesome pictures or the liquor you drank to rid of your thirst, the dry feeling on your tongue stays unnerved, it returns every few minutes you take in the wine.

It should be a familiar feeling, you think as you, yet again, grab the wine glass by the base of the stem, the clear rim is tinged with the soft color of your lipstick and there is a small amount of fluid remaining in the bowl, which you gulp down quickly, putting the empty glass back on the red tablecloth, you take a moment to swallow the last of the rich liquid. Then spinning the glass stem in between your fingers, you can feel your ears clog as the drunkenness heats your cheeks, though the wine does little to quench your thirst, the pleasant aftertaste left in your throat spreads throughout your consciousness, warm cozy fondness soon turns you drowsy and gasping for air.

Swift slamming of a cup in front of you makes you snap open your eyes (when did you close them?), and before the panic sets in an unknown voice interrupts the alarms going on in your head.

``You should know your limits.`` As soon as it came, the dread you felt quickly disappeared, and familiarity settled.

``S-Sir Mihawk!`` your flustered self is met with piercing Hawk eyes, thanking away whatever excuse that was quickly dancing on your tongue. ``Y-you have an extravagant taste in... Uh, wine Sir!``

The thought of when he had returned, or how you didn't notice his footsteps get lost in your clouded mind as his judgemental eyes wash over you, they settle under your skin, and for a moment you think pouring ice-filled water over yourself in snow would be better than the predatory gaze he sets upon you.

It isn't like he forbade drinking the wine he has hidden in every corner of the castle. Still, a drop of nervous sweat travels down your neck.

You swiftly turn away from his stare, eyes landing on the cold water-filled cup that he rudely slammed against the table, apparently for you to drink. Without words, you pour the water down your gutter, cool liquid satisfies the overheated core within, to the point that your worn-out teeth hurt from the cold sensation. By the time you set the partly empty cup down, Mihawk had already sat at the head of the table, away from you.

``Thanks for the water...``

For an unknown reason, his choice of seat made your heartache.

``Hm.``

Looking at the man, without his signature coat and the hat, felt surprisingly intimate, despite knowing each other for two weeks, all four residents, including yourself fell into a fresh routine quite easily. A routine that Mihawk adapted quickly and religiously maintained.

The hawk's eyes look up from the morning newspaper that he grabbed without your permission, and if it was anybody else, you might have said a snarky remark.

``Hand me the wine bottle.`` You have no issue being bossed around, you are more confident when following the orders of others, as annoying and humiliating as it is for somebody else, it doesn't bother you, especially when it comes to the warlord in the room, his orders are minimal, rare, and you don't feel any control from him, unlike Zoro who seems to get annoyed on your behalf whenever the older man 'dictates' your actions, leading to pointless remarks sent in your way.

Don't you feel lesser?

You stretch out your arm, sluggishly grabbing the exquisite bottle, and gently placing it in the rough hands of the swordsman.

You watch with heavy-lidded eyes as he pours himself the said wine, grabbing the glass and before he drinks, the man tilts his head down in a thankful gesture toward you.

No, I don't feel any lesser. Why? Because Mihawk does not mean demean.

It isn't until he puts his lips onto the rim that you finally recognize the stained glass. Your eyes widened.

``Wha-Hey! Don't drink it!`` you flung up your arms in the air, however, no amount of blushing could stop him in time.

``That's my glass!`` You watch as his eyes open, the wine and glass still resting on his mouth, his incorrigible face is misplaced as you mumble embarrassed whispers his way while hiding behind your hands.

A second passes, ten seconds pass. The silence suffocates your flustered face hidden behind your arms away from the prying eyes of no man.

``Huh.`` The sound escapes his (probably) lipstick-stained lips, it shatters the awkward pause between you two. ``I... apologize.`` A faint blush on his heated cheeks is swept under the rug.

It takes you a bit to let your hands down, even longer to look at him in his static eyes.

Only after he grabs himself a clean wine glass, do you stop hiding your flaming cheeks away from him, sneaking glances at the open ruffled neck his white button-up shirt includes. The residue from earlier sits beautifully on his chapped lips, giving a faint shine from the lack of proper appliance. The color stains the transparent rim, laughing and teasing you, spreading countless unknown emotions that make you shy away and maintain eye contact with a tablecloth.

``Is there something on my face, (Y/N)?`` His double-ringed eyes land on your form, which you realize is too open for sneaky glimpses you've been giving him. Unaffected by your embarrassment.

You don't know if it's a drunken haze that gave you the confidence out of thin air, but you're sure at some point you've lost yourself in the slow hum of alcohol.

``Mm. Yeah actually.`` He raised an eyebrow at your response.

The feeling spreads like a lit steel wool, the fire following your lines of sanity as it leaves only boldness exposed to a hawk. You bet everything, and by everything you mean your life, the only thing you seem to carry that has any meaning in this meaningless world, on this action.

A chair falls onto the ground. Next, you're bending ninety degrees in angle, right arm rests on your knees as you're standing in the face of a gentleman, left hand travels to the man's lips, pale in comparison to the ghostly skin, rough and torn by the sea, the frown adorns his complexion as your pointer finger pad gently smoothes the color that pops off of him. It sticks to your skin, lipstick revealing your fingerprints.

It sticks like the smell of sake clinging onto the man. The scent that only now you've picked up, due to the proximity. He must have had a great time with Zoro outside.

His eyes watch, stern and unrecognizable as you pull your digit away from his mouth, in slow-mo you let him realize what the subtle, teasing smile on your face was about. He tries to gather what decency remains within, tries to not look down as your shirt reveals soft flesh underneath, concealed in the shadows.

By now you must have caught onto the distant smell of sake clinging to his button up, however, it does not seem relevant to either of you.

Sweat dribbles down from his temple, yet his hand moves up to grab your hip, and his body follows after it. Standing upright.

In your slowly widening eyes, he sees your confidence crumble like the boulders he used for training back in his youth, so effortless to demolish under his eye.

He looked down at the roses that bloomed under your eyes, wide and shaken for an unknown reason.

``Are you flustered?`` There are no words that meet him, his question causes your hands, resting on his chest, to tighten. He already knows the answer.

He drags your body closer, feeling your heat under his skin. His thigh drags your nether region unintentionally rubbing the cloth between your bodies. A hiss escapes your lips, his eyes narrow. ``Y-you're so...!`` You say between your clenched teeth, face heated.

Mihawk's arm tightens around your torso, shoving his knee further until he makes your buttocks meet the edge of the table. The wine bottle rocks back and forth.

``So?``

You are trapped.

``...So... Frustrating...`` Your eyes shut tightly as his lips meet yours. The strong aftertaste of Sake hits your wet muscle since the wine was not enough to cover it. His tongue eagerly entangles with yours, leaving you breathless. Through the clothes, you can feel his hand on your waist trail up your ribs and rest across your chest. It grabs at buttons and frees your body to his eyes.

Your heart thunders in your ear. Embarrassed you grab at his shoulders as he grabs at your thighs, kneading it before dragging you up and on top of the table. With great vigor, his hand removes whatever restriction was between your private parts, dragging and tossing it away. His lips never leave you, even when you struggle for breath, he leans over you, caging your body beneath. The lust drowns everything else, the sight, smell, and sense, for a blissful moment.

It ends unwillingly. The golden eyes watch, and yours stare back, both breathe heavily. The connection is broken when he goes down, leaving you leaning on your elbows to watch as he gazes at your folds with dark desire swirling in his ringed iris.

It's too much. Too blush-making for you. Lying flat on the table as your wrists desperately shelter your eyes. The moment goes on for what feels like forever.

And then the sensation hits you like a truck. 

The cold, wet, bright red liquor drips onto your opening, blazing your face in complete blush as the loud sound of wine meeting ground fills the air.

Your hand flies down to hold yourself stable, letting the uncomfortable feeling overwhelm you.

Turning red, you could only gaze into his eyes that stared at your entrance, hungry for something. After a pregnant pause, he put the wine bottle on the floor, leaving your bottom half shining with red tints.

``Are... Are you insane?!`` your eyebrows turned up, voice shook. ``What are you doing?!`` flailing around you try to move away from his grip, inner thighs soiled in alcohol.

``I apologize for startling you.`` a sly glint lights up in his pupil, proving his apology otherwise. His hot breath disappears as he puts his mouth on your labia and quickly presses his tongue inside you without waiting for your response.

His grasp does not falter, instead strengthens and brings your bottom half closer until his nose finally meets your clit, lips gently travel over your folds, pressing sweet kisses on them that sprinkle over to your inner thighs. Tasting the alcohol with no shame in his actions. Tiny whimpers slip by as butterflies flutter in your stomach, pleasure makes your knees weak as he flicks at your opening. His tongue sneaking around your clit, sucking, circling, discovering with determinded precision what would shatter you to pieces the quickest. The wet sounds escape from his pressings, no doubt tasting and smelling the liquor as his tongue gets closer and closer to that one spot.

He sends shivers up your spine and uses his thumb to harshly rub against your clit, but once Mihawk finally found his desired destination inside of you, there was nothing that would get him to look at something but your pleasure-filled face finally unleash and listen to your cry that he compares to a siren's call, designed to enchant a lone pirate such as himself. He nestles and nuzzles his way through your meager whimpers, enthusiasticlly licking your addicting taste.

It's a shame your time together does not last forever.

[panakinthedisco]

PART 2 | TICKET TO RIDE ━━ Joel Miller

summary: becoming the president of the class is the most stressful thing that joel miller ever did in his life but then, you made it bearable.

author's note: i'm shookt with the amount of likes with this mini-series huhu so here you go! if it's your first time in here, please read the part 1 of this series <3

other notes: au, elementary teacher!reader x contractor!joel,  no outbreak!joel miller, sarah lives, single dad x teacher, eventual smut but this is a slow burn romance, maybe angst? reader is a fan of the beatles and a mccartney girlie while joel is a george harrison stannie! age gap (reader is in the middle of 20s x joel miller in his 30s), sarah being a cute matchmaker to her dad!

word count: 4.4k

A few days had passed since the PTA meeting, and you were still adjusting to your new life in Austin, Texas. The town was unfamiliar to you, and the job offer had been the only one available at the time. Thankfully, your cousin lived in Austin and had kindly offered you a place to stay. The apartment wasn’t large, but it was cozy and gave you a sense of security in this new environment.

Settling into your new role at the school, you found that the staff and students were welcoming. The school itself had a warm, community-driven atmosphere that you appreciated. Your class was manageable, and you even began to grow fond of your students. They were eager to learn and showed respect in the classroom, which made your job easier and more enjoyable.

One student, in particular, stood out to you: Sarah Miller. She had a natural curiosity for science and was always eager to help. During science classes, Sarah often assisted you in arranging the flasks and beakers on the shelf, her enthusiasm evident in the way she carefully handled each piece of equipment.

One afternoon, as you were setting up for a lab experiment, Sarah approached with a smile. “Do you need any help?”

You returned her smile warmly. “That would be great, Sarah. Could you please arrange these beakers on the top shelf?”

Sarah nodded and began to carefully place the beakers in their designated spots. As she worked, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for her assistance. It made the transition into your new role smoother and less overwhelming.

“How are you finding Austin so far?” Sarah asked, her voice full of genuine curiosity.

You paused for a moment, considering your response. “It’s been an adjustment, but I’m starting to feel more at home. My cousin has been a huge help, and the school is wonderful. I really enjoy teaching here.”

Sarah beamed. “I’m glad to hear that! You’re a great teacher. Everyone in class really likes you.”

Her words warmed your heart. “Thank you, Sarah. That means a lot to me.”

As Sarah carefully placed the beakers on the shelf, you couldn’t help but notice how meticulous and dedicated she was. Her assistance was invaluable, making your adjustment to the new job much smoother. You watched her for a moment, grateful for her help and impressed by her enthusiasm.

Sarah glanced over her shoulder at you, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Have you had a chance to visit any places around Texas yet?”

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “Not really, Sarah. I haven’t had much time to explore. The only place I’ve really been to is the grocery store near my apartment.”

Sarah giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You know, there’s a great place for horseback riding just a mile away from here. My dad has a truck, and we go there sometimes. Would you like to join us?”

Her suggestion took you by surprise. It felt a bit unusual to be invited out by a student, especially since you were still getting to know them. You felt a mix of flattery and apprehension, unsure how to respond.

“That’s very kind of you, Sarah,” you said politely. “I’ll think about it.”

Sarah nodded, seemingly satisfied with your answer, but you could see the gears turning in her mind. She returned to her task, her expression thoughtful.

Internally, Sarah was plotting. She adored you and knew her dad had been lonely for a long time. What better way to help both of them than by arranging a casual outing? She envisioned them enjoying a day out, her dad relaxing and having fun, and you, seeing a new side of Texas. Maybe, just maybe, her plan would help bring a bit of happiness into both of your lives.

As you continued to prepare for the lab experiment, you couldn’t help but think about Sarah’s suggestion. The idea of horseback riding sounded fun, but the prospect of spending time with Sarah and her father outside of school felt a bit strange. You appreciated the gesture, though, and couldn’t deny a small part of you was curious about the experience.

Later, as you walked around the classroom, checking on the students and ensuring everything was in place, you found yourself thinking more about the invitation. Sarah’s enthusiasm was infectious, and her desire to share her favorite activities with you was touching.

As the day went on, you decided to keep an open mind. You could see how much Sarah cared about both her father and her teacher, and maybe this outing could be a chance to bond with her and better understand the community you were becoming a part of.

“Alright, everyone, time to wrap up,” you announced, bringing the class to a close. As the students gathered their things and prepared to leave, Sarah gave you a bright smile, and you couldn’t help but return it, feeling a sense of warmth and connection.

As you watched the students file out of the classroom, a wave of mixed emotions washed over you. The hustle and bustle of the day was winding down, and you found yourself alone with your thoughts. The adjustment to life in Austin had been challenging, to say the least. Moving away from your parents was a difficult decision, but the job offer had seemed like a beacon of hope at the time. Now, you weren't so sure.

Loneliness had become an unwelcome companion over the past few weeks. Your parents had been supportive, encouraging you with words of wisdom and confidence, assuring you that you could thrive on your own. But their words felt distant in the face of your current reality. Each day felt like a test of endurance, and even the small victories were overshadowed by an overwhelming sense of isolation.

The faculty room, a place that should have been a source of camaraderie and support, only intensified your feelings of being an outsider. You were the youngest among your colleagues, and their close-knit conversations left you feeling invisible during break times. They had their routines, their inside jokes, and you often found yourself on the periphery, unsure of how to break into their circle.

Your thoughts drifted back to Sarah Miller. She had been a ray of sunshine in an otherwise cloudy experience. Her genuine kindness and eagerness to help had been a lifeline. When she invited you to go horseback riding with her and her father, it had been the first time anyone in Austin had reached out to you in such a personal way. The invitation felt like a small crack in the wall of loneliness that had been building around you.

You sighed, leaning back in your chair, staring at the now-empty classroom. The idea of spending time with Sarah and her father was starting to seem more appealing. Maybe it was a chance to break out of your shell, to connect with the community, and to find a sense of belonging that you desperately needed.

"Why not give it a try?" you thought to yourself. "It’s just an afternoon, and it could be fun."

The image of Sarah’s bright smile flashed in your mind, and you felt a flicker of hope. Her invitation was a small gesture, but it held the potential to change the trajectory of your experience in Austin. Maybe, just maybe, it was a step toward finding the connections and support that you had been yearning for since your move.

You packed your things, the classroom now quiet and still. As you walked out, you made a silent promise to yourself: you would accept Sarah’s invitation.

Life as a teacher continued for you. The final bell rang, and the bustling energy of students packing their bags and heading out the door filled the classroom. You busied yourself with tidying up, ensuring everything was in place for the next day. As you straightened the books on your desk, you glanced up and were surprised to see Joel Miller standing in the doorway.

Your eyes quickly took in his appearance—typical flannel shirt, worn out jeans, and work boots covered in a thin layer of dust. He looked as though he had come straight from a job site. Despite his rugged appearance, there was a certain warmth in his eyes that you found comforting. You gave him a friendly smile.

"Mr. Miller, come on in," you said, motioning him into the classroom.

Joel stepped inside, looking slightly out of place in the tidy, structured environment of the classroom. Just as he was about to speak, Sarah and her friends came up behind him, chattering and laughing.

"Hey, Dad," Sarah greeted, a playful glint in her eye. "I’m going to hang out with Maddie for a bit."

Joel turned to her, a familiar, fatherly concern in his voice. "Alright, but remember, Uncle Tommy is picking you up before dinner. Don’t be late."

Sarah nodded, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "Got it, Dad." Then, she glanced at you and back at her father, her smile growing wider. "And Dad, don’t forget to shoot your shot."

Joel looked momentarily confused, his brows furrowing. But then he caught the way Sarah glanced at you, and understanding dawned on his face. His cheeks flushed slightly, and he turned back to his daughter, trying to maintain his composure.

"Sarah, you need to go," he said firmly, though his tone was tinged with embarrassment.

Sarah laughed, a light, carefree sound, and gave him a quick hug before skipping off to join her friends. You watched her go, feeling a mix of amusement and curiosity.

Turning your attention back to Joel, you could see he was still slightly flustered by his daughter’s teasing. You decided to break the ice.

"So, you’re here for the field trip plans, Mr. Miller?" you asked, keeping your tone light.

Joel scratched the back of his neck, a sheepish smile forming on his lips. “You can call me Joel, Ma’am. And yes, here are the plans.” Joel handed you over a piece of paper, and it’s handwritten by him. Ever since the PTA meeting where he was elected class president, the responsibility had weighed heavily on him. He had no idea how to organize a field trip, and the last thing he wanted was to embarrass himself in front of you, the new teacher. Earlier, Joel sat at the dining room table, papers strewn about in a chaotic mess. He rubbed his temples, staring at the tentative plans for the upcoming field trip.

His brother, Tommy, wandered into the room, a look of confusion on his face. "What’s got you all riled up, brother?" he asked, eyeing the disarray on the table.

Before Joel could respond, Sarah chimed in, a knowing smirk on her face as she drank her hot cocoa. "Dad’s trying to impress the new teacher," she said, not bothering to hide her amusement.

Tommy's eyebrows shot up, and he plopped down beside Joel, his expression turning into one of playful mischief. "Is that so? Trying to impress the teacher, huh?"

Joel sighed, feeling a flush of embarrassment. "It's not like that," he muttered defensively. "I'm just trying to get these plans sorted out. Also, she seems younger, you know?"

Tommy laughed, clapping Joel on the back. "You’re making excuses, man. I’ve never seen you this worked up about anything before. Sounds to me like you’re more interested in her than you’re letting on."

Joel shook his head, but he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. "She's just trying to do her job, and I don't want to make things harder for her. That's all."

Sarah giggled, leaning against the doorframe. "Sure, Dad. Whatever you say."

Tommy leaned back in his chair, still grinning. "Look, Joel, it’s okay to admit you find her interesting. But you can’t stress yourself out over this. We’ll help you figure it out. It’s just a field trip. Goddamn, you’re a lot more stingy to this rather than talking to the grumpy old man across the street that you almost cussed out."

Joel glanced at his brother and daughter, feeling a mix of frustration and gratitude. He appreciated their support, even if their teasing was relentless. "Alright, alright," he said, holding up his hands in surrender. "Let’s figure this out together."

They spent the next hour brainstorming ideas, Tommy throwing out suggestions with his usual carefree attitude while Sarah chimed in with practical advice. Slowly, the plans started to take shape. Joel felt the tension in his shoulders ease as they worked through the details. At least, he had an initial idea for your class’ field trip. 

As the last of the students filtered out of the classroom, Sarah gave her father a mischievous grin before heading off with her friends. Joel watched her go, feeling a mix of pride and trepidation. Once the room was quiet, he turned his attention back to you, taking a deep breath. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, handing it to you.

"This is, uh, the rough draft of the field trip plans," he said, his voice a bit strained with nerves.

You took the paper with a warm smile and gestured to an empty chair nearby. "Why don’t you grab a seat Mr. Miller? We can go over this together."

“You can just call me Joel, Maam,” you nodded and looked through the paper. 

Joel hesitated for a moment, but then he dragged the chair over and sat down beside you. You unfolded the paper, smoothing it out on your desk, and pulled out a pink ballpen from your pocket. 

His eyes shifted from the paper to the colorful array of pens spilling out of your pencil case. The case itself was decorated with playful designs and a few strips of washi tape, each adding a personal touch that he found unexpectedly charming. He watched as you reached for your pink ballpen, your fingers deftly maneuvering it as you made notes on his rough draft.

As you started scribbling on the paper, Joel’s brow furrowed, a look of concern crossing his face. "Am I doing something wrong?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

You looked up, noticing his apprehension. "Oh, no! It’s just a habit of mine," you explained with a reassuring smile. "I like to doodle while I think. Helps me focus."

Joel nodded, relaxing slightly. He watched as you continued to make notes. 

He couldn't help but smile as he observed your methodical yet creative approach. The pink ink swirled across the paper, punctuated by little stars and hearts that danced around your comments and suggestions. Joel was taken aback by how much personality you injected into such a simple task. It was endearing.

As he continued to watch, he found his gaze drifting towards you. He tried to be subtle, but his eyes traced the curve of your hand as it moved, the way your brow furrowed in concentration, and the gentle way you bit your lip when you were deep in thought. There was something soothing about your presence, a quiet confidence that he hadn't expected.

Joel's attention was momentarily drawn to the scent of vanilla that wafted towards him every time you moved. It was light and sweet, complementing the warmth of the room and adding another layer to the growing sense of comfort he felt in your company.

He shifted in his seat, trying to focus back on the task at hand, but his eyes kept returning to you. The way the afternoon sunlight streamed through the window, catching the strands of your hair and casting a soft glow around you, made it hard to look away. He was struck by how natural and unassuming you were, yet there was an undeniable spark that drew him in.

As you scribbled another note, you looked up, catching Joel's intent gaze. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the air thick with unspoken words. You broke the silence with a warm smile, your eyes crinkling at the corners. "You okay, Joel?" you asked, your voice soft and kind.

Joel cleared his throat, feeling a flush rise to his cheeks. "Yeah, just... watching you work. It's impressive."

You laughed lightly, “Thanks, Joel.”

Returning to the paper, you continued making notes, occasionally glancing up at Joel to ensure he was following along. He tried to focus, but his mind kept drifting back to the little details—the pink pen, the vanilla scent, the way you looked so at ease in your element.

After a few minutes, you paused, tapping the pen thoughtfully against your chin.

"I really like your idea of taking the kids somewhere engaging and interactive," you said, turning to look at him. "Rather than just going to a zoo or a museum, something hands-on will be much more memorable for them."

Joel’s eyes widened in surprise. "You really think so? I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea."

You nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely. Kids learn best when they’re actively involved. It’s a great way to make the experience more meaningful."

Joel felt a swell of pride at your words. He had spent hours agonizing over those plans, and hearing your approval was incredibly validating. "Thanks," he said, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "That means a lot."

You returned his smile, your eyes twinkling with encouragement. "We’ll just need to iron out a few details, like permissions and logistics, but overall, I think you’re on the right track."

Joel leaned in closer, his confidence growing. "Alright, let’s do this then."

For the next half hour, the two of you worked together, discussing various aspects of the field trip. You appreciated Joel’s practical insights and his willingness to listen to your suggestions. He sat beside you at the small, cluttered desk in the classroom, the map of Austin spread out between you. His rough draft of the field trip plans was covered with your colorful scribbles, and now you were both leaning over the map, discussing potential locations.

"What about this park?" Joel suggested, pointing to a green area on the map. "It's got a nice picnic area and some trails. The kids might enjoy that."

You nodded thoughtfully, considering the idea. "That sounds great. It would be good for them to have some outdoor time."

As you both continued brainstorming, you glanced up from the map and remembered something Sarah had mentioned earlier. "You know," you began, "Sarah mentioned something about horseback riding. She invited me to come along with you two."

Joel's eyes widened in surprise. "She did? What exactly did she say?"

You smiled, recounting the conversation. "She said you have a truck and that there's a place just a mile away. She thought it would be fun if we all went together."

Joel chuckled softly, shaking his head. He knew what his daughter was doing and it’s not even subtle anymore but he did notice that you had no idea what his mischievous daughter was doing. Before he could say more, you interrupted, your eyes sparkling with genuine interest. "Actually, I'm interested. It sounds like a lot of fun."

Joel was momentarily speechless. He hadn't expected you to be so open to the idea. Gathering his thoughts, he finally managed to say, "Well, that would be great. I think it could be a lot of fun, too."

As you both continued discussing the field trip, you glanced at the clock on the wall and realized how late it had gotten. "Oh wow, it's already seven in the evening," you said, surprised. "I think we've done enough for today."

Joel looked at the time and nodded. "Yeah, we should probably call it a day."

As you started packing up your things, Joel looked at you earnestly. "Let me take you home," he offered. "It's getting late, and I don't want you walking home alone. This town has its share of people who might take advantage of someone new."

You hesitated, not wanting to be a bother. "I appreciate it, but I don't want to trouble you."

Joel shook his head firmly. "It's no trouble at all. I insist."

Seeing the genuine concern in his eyes, you nodded in agreement. "Alright, thank you, Joel. I appreciate it."

Together, you left the school, the evening air cool and refreshing. As you walked to his truck, you felt a sense of camaraderie growing between you. Joel opened the passenger door for you, and you climbed in, feeling a mix of gratitude and curiosity about where this new connection might lead.

As Joel drove the truck with you in the passenger seat, he suddenly glanced over at you and asked, "Is it okay if we drive through McDonald's? It's for Sarah."

You smiled and nodded. "Of course, that's fine."

The drive to McDonald's was accompanied by a comfortable silence, punctuated by the hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of papers from the plans you had been working on together. Joel broke the silence, his voice warm and curious. "So, where are you originally from?"

"I'm from Louisiana," you replied, a hint of homesickness in your voice. "This is my first time being away from my family."

Joel nodded, his expression empathetic. "I know it can be tough, especially when you're used to having them around. Just a piece of advice, though: don't walk around at night alone. And if you need anything, you can call me anytime."

You appreciated his concern but didn't want to be a bother. "Thank you, Joel. I don't want to impose, especially since you have a busy work schedule."

Joel waved off your concerns. "It's no imposition at all." He reached out to the dashboard, retrieved a calling card from his company, and handed it to you. "My number is on there. Don't hesitate to call if you need anything."

You took the card, touched by his kindness. "Thank you, Joel. I really appreciate it."

A few minutes later, the truck pulled into the McDonald's drive-through. As you approached the ordering kiosk, the cashier's voice crackled through the telecom. "Welcome to McDonald's. Can I take your order?"

Joel leaned over to the speaker and ordered, "I'll take two Big Macs and fries, please." Then he turned to you. "And what would you like?"

You hesitated, not wanting to add to the order, but Joel's encouraging nod made you feel more at ease. "I'll have a chicken burger, please."

Joel relayed your order to the cashier. "And a chicken burger as well, thanks."

As you waited for the food, Joel glanced at you with a smile. "Louisiana, huh? Must be quite a change coming to Austin."

You nodded, thinking about the differences between the two places. "It is. But I'm slowly adjusting. Your daughter, Sarah, has been a big help since I came to the class."

Joel chuckled. "She's a good kid. Always looking out for people."

The truck rolled forward to the pick-up window. The cashier handed over the bags of food, and Joel passed them to you to hold. As he paid and received the change, you couldn't help but feel a growing sense of admiration for him. His kindness and willingness to help made the transition to your new life a little bit easier.

"Thanks for doing this, Joel," you said as he pulled out of the drive-through and headed back towards your apartment.

"No problem at all," he replied. "I'm glad to help."

When you finally reached your apartment, Joel parked the truck and turned to you. "I'll walk you to your door."

You nodded, appreciating the gesture. As you both got out and he walked you to your apartment, the evening air was filled with the quiet chirping of crickets. When you reached your door, you turned to him with a smile. "Thanks again, Joel. For everything."

"Anytime," he replied, giving you a reassuring smile. "Have a good night."

"You too," you said, watching as he made his way back to the truck.

As you entered your apartment, the cozy familiarity of the small space greeted you. You placed your bag on the kitchen counter, the scent of vanilla lingering from your perfume. Joel Miller's calling card was still in your hand, and you set it down next to the fruit bowl, taking a moment to reflect on the evening.

Joel Miller. He was an enigma. In the classroom, his rugged appearance had caught your eye: the typical flannel shirt, worn-out jeans, and work boots—he exuded a blend of ruggedness and reliability. You remembered how he had seemed hesitant but determined to discuss the field trip plans, his deep voice carrying a hint of nervousness. Despite his rough exterior, there was a gentleness in the way he interacted with you and his daughter.

You recalled his strong hands pointing out locations on the map, the subtle scent of sawdust and pine mingling with the vanilla of your perfume. His genuine concern for your safety had touched you, and his easy smile had made you feel at ease.

But then you shook your head, trying to dispel those thoughts. Joel was a parent, and you were a teacher. It was inappropriate to think of him in any other way. You needed to maintain professionalism, especially since Sarah was one of your favorite students.

You made your way to the bathroom, flicking on the light. The cool tile floor under your feet grounded you as you leaned over the sink, splashing your face with cold water. The shock of the cold helped clear your mind. You stared at your reflection, droplets of water clinging to your skin.

"Cut it out," you muttered to yourself, gripping the edges of the sink. "He's just a parent. Focus on your job."

You took a deep breath and stood up straight, grabbing a towel to pat your face dry. The lingering thoughts of Joel Miller needed to be pushed aside. You were here to teach and not to get distracted by the rugged charm of one of your student’s parents.

You walked back into the living room and sat on the couch, opening your laptop to review tomorrow’s lesson plans. Immersing yourself in work was the best way to push those thoughts away. As you typed away, you reminded yourself of your priorities: teaching, supporting your students, and adjusting to life in Austin. 

Everything else, including your confusing emotions about Joel Miller, would have to wait.

Whatever that even means for you. 

CONTINUE READING: PART 1 | PART 3 ━━ AVAILABLE ON AO3

☆ MASTERLIST | NAVIGATION | SOCIALS | SIGN OFF BANNER MADE BY. @ALDERAANDORS

[knnichs]

feeling like a face in the crowd (i’m reaching for you, terrified.)

unsurprisingly, you’ve fallen in love with your best friend. who, coincidentally, is also the same goro akechi that everyone adores.

c. goro akechi, gn!reader

t. hurt/no comfort, possibly unrequited love, insecurity & self doubt (reader,) childhood friends, no spoilers

reupload from my ao3 :3 posting the part 2 of this tomorrow ,, original notes below the work !! og link is here

The noise had been drowned out long ago, focusing on the detective rambling on and on about the Phantom Thieves (once more) in front of you. He seemed more interested in it than the Phantom Thieves themselves, you’d think he were a part of the Thieves himself. Suddenly, his expression changes to a blank one–almost somber, you panic with the sudden shift, but he opens his mouth to say something.

“This isn’t an appropriate conversation for lunch,” The boy would laugh, a light chuckle reaching only to your ears. “I apologize. How has your week been?” 

“Nothing out of the ordinary. School works are still piling up, I’m a bit stressed, but when am I never?” You put your cup down on the cafe table, half full. 

The ice clinks as it hits the edges of the glass.

Akechi–Goro, laughs once more. Knowing you made him smile is enough to warm the cold you felt that gloomy day. It’s no surprise, seeing him is enough to brighten your day. 

“You’re getting the right amount of sleep though, right? I’ll file a complaint to your headmaster if you want me to, kidding.” 

You nod, picking up the glass to take a sip from it.

You met Goro when you were, what, kids? He’s an old friend you could say. Ever since his popularity started to rise, the gap between you two only grew. You can’t blame him though; he is brilliant with his deductions, keen observations that surpass even some in the police department, and his alluring beauty that only pulls you in... Goro Akechi and his shaggy brown hair, dark red eyes that haunt you in your sleep. His charming personality built for the tv, his words deep enough to ring in your mind. He’s special, everything you could ever wish to be, and maybe that’s why you feel some kind of resentment towards him. 

It’s a horrible feeling–to feel envious of your friend for having all the success in the world. It doesn’t make him any less deserving of all the achievements that he’s earned, you just feel… Jealous of his natural abilities, his talents. You wished to be someone like him when you were young, who knew that you’d be close with someone who has everything you could only dream of?

Still, it doesn’t change the fact that you, unsurprisingly, have fallen in love with your best friend. Who, coincidentally, is also the same Goro Akechi that everyone adores. The same detective prince that has all the abilities you could only dream of, who has everything you’ve ever wanted.

You can’t help but re-read the articles about him. His name in headliners, investigations he’s contributed in, the damned ‘Phantom Thieves and their supposed identity, solved by Akechi’

Detective Goro Akechi, solves another case! 

The second generation Detective Prince, Goro Akechi.

The Phantom Thieves versus Detective Akechi: Who will be victorious?

Akechi’s Hottest Meet and greet!

You love him, it’s ruining your life. It’s caused the walls of your heart to crumble down, the peace you’ve worked hard for turning into chaos, just because of your feelings towards him. His fame has taken up so much of his schedule, of his life, that you can’t help but feel like you’ve joined the crowd. You’re just another fan, he can easily replace you with someone better, someone worth his time. That’s what you felt anyway. 

Now you open your phone, finger hovering over the contact you’ve grown fond of, only to hesitate when sending a quick ‘Hey, how have you been?’.  You want to reach out to him, to grab his hand and run away from the people with flashing cameras–you want to bring him somewhere peaceful, away from Shibuya, away from the Phantom Thieves, some place else where the familiar songs of jazz retell tales of the past with drinks that only taste good because of the atmosphere. You’d screw up your friendship with each other if you actually did that, you think. But a part of you feels as if he would appreciate it, running away from the fame, from the endless interviews that take up his entire day, the cases that take away his highschool years away from his life. 

“Is something the matter?” Concern lacing his voice, he puts down the glass he was holding. 

How are you supposed to say that you’re envious of him? That you want to run away, far from the people who keep his schedule occupied?

How are you supposed to admit that you liked him?

You shake your head. 

“No, no. I just zoned out.”

As you give a soft, somber smile.

Distant, hushed whispers of girls pass through the winds. Isn’t that Akechi?

Who is he with?

Is that… His partner, maybe?

I doubt that! Akechi doesn’t date. If he did, it would be me.

You’re so delusional—Get over him!

“Uh…Sorry,” a girl approaches him, pen and paper in hand. “You’re Akechi, right? The detective?” Stammering, she asks for an autograph.

There is a slight tick in Goro’s jaw. His expression briefly goes from an annoyed one to a pleasant, charming facade. He nods, taking the paper and clicking on his own pen. Quickly, he messily scribbles his signature on the paper with a star at the end. He tries to shoo the girl as politely as he can before he turns to you. Looking at the half unfinished drink, and back to your eyes.

“I’m sorry, we might have to cut this short.” A sigh escapes his lips, he brushes his bangs away from his eyes and fixes his appearance for a few seconds before standing up. This, however, doesn’t stop you from jumping into conclusions.

“Oh. Did I do something wrong?” You ask, finishing your drink before deciding to follow his movements.

He cuts you off, raising his left hand and waving it in the air as he gets his things. “You did nothing, worry not. The crowd has… Unfortunately found me.” 

“Right.”

“Well, I’ll see you around. I will tell you once more when I’m free—oh, and the bill has been taken care of already. Thank you for today,” Goro smiles, “…next time, okay?”

“Yeah. Sure, next time.” You say back, nodding before watching him leave.

Maybe he isn’t the right one. You’ll find another, they all say. You wont lie—crushing on the Goro Akechi is nothing short of exhausting. No matter how many attempts you make to get close to him, he will somehow, always push you away. If this is how it is liking him, you wonder just what exactly it means to be his partner. You do your best to ignore the even louder shrieks of fans outside as he walks through the doors, slowly becoming white noise as you get lost in thought.

What if you were to admit what you felt now? Surely this would ruin everything between you two. he’s dealing with enough fans as is, he doesn't need another person adding to it. God knows how horrible it is to be someone who likes Goro—how almost torturous it is to be with him. You occasionally think about how he might think of you, regardless if you do choose to confess.

Does he think you’re just some other fan like the rest of them? Another person holding the camera, the flash preserving his beauty? 

Easily replaceable if you don’t fit whatever his ideals were, traded in for something much better.

You can recount the way his cheeks flushes when he eats something especially spicy, his eyes watering, and he tries so hard to compose himself but he fails in the end; taking huge breaths of air as his free hand goes up to wave off the heat. The way his smile doesn’t reach his eyes when something in particular bothers him, opting to at least pretend to appease the other person. The way he slightly sticks his tongue out on the side of his mouth, holding his breath, his hair a mess as he stays up another night trying to find the leads he needs for a case. Surely, you wouldn’t even need a camera to retell how he looks at you with such fondness even the best lenses couldn't capture.

This is wrong. You’re placing unnecessary problems onto shoulders that already seem like they’re carrying the entire world. You just wonder if the chance will ever present itself, if he would ever accept how you felt. But that’s all there is to it. You can only wonder, think, dream about having Goro in your arms. 

i forgot how to construct fics lol ,, im still on hiatus but i wanted to write a little something since ive been getting into persona again help. i just want to note that maybe this might get a good ending. yes this has a continuation (as i plan to write another addition in goro's pov). yes reader getting confused on calling him akechi or goro is somewhat symbolizing how they feel distant from him

it might *seem* like i wrote goro a little ooc with his actions, but of course, thats only there because of how the reader views him !! thinking that maybe /yeah. this guy does not care about me at all/ kinda thing. then again, i did my best to write him the way i understand him as !! i didnt purposefully try to make him "cruel" or cold... its just that hes a busy man yk

[causenessus]

fic authors self rec! ♡ when you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. let’s spread the self-love ♡

I WAS GONNA SAVE THIS TOMORROW BUT I KEEP SEEING OTHERS AND IT'S REALLY REALLY MOTIVATING ME <33 (although i don't think i have five other moots to send this to bc idk who else has done it or had it sent to them...)

HAVE I EVEN WRITTEN FIVE THINGS?? I DEF DO NOT POST A LOT OF ONESHOTS 😭

love notes | suna rintarou

OBVIOUSLY MY NUMBER ONE!!! the premise of the smau is so so important to me <3 i love art so much and graffiti just feels so in character for suna?? and he's such a loverboy?? and the photography plot has just really opened my eyes to the amount of time and effort that goes into the profession!!! oh my god i always think about all the lyrics i picked out <3 and just suna and yn dancing around their problems but still flirting with each other some of my fav chapters definitely have to be chapter 3 and 9 (i have been this 🤏 close to reblogging chapter 9 and just saying paragraph 8 like a thousand times. i wrote that entire little excerpt on a tramway in nyc on the way to roosevelt island) <3 my life while i was writing love notes was really nice and this smau is just so so important to me and i was so happy that others also enjoyed it omg i need to stop yapping <3

try again | sakusa kiyoomi

one of my favorites bc it's basically a self insert 😭😭 it's honestly helped me realize so much about myself and is such a comfort fic for me!! i've read a few fics that seem to capture this feeling of like looking back on a time long ago, which is sort of like fond nostalgia? sort of like if you were married and think back to how you married your spouse, or sitting on a rooftop with your best friend and thinking about how you guys were in your younger days if that makes sense. i love that feeling of it being like your reading a story that happened some time ago, and isn't happening currently, and that's what try again feels like to me. the therapist-client dynamic and messy characters is so important to me, AND U GUYS HAVE NO IDEA WHAT KIND OF SELF INDULGENCE TRAUMA DUMP IS COMING SOON <3 (sorry this sounds so aggressive omg)

see you at the altar | suna rintarou

one of my fav fav drabbles!! it was so sweet and once again just suna being a lover boy is so important to me!! it warms my heart just thinking about being his love and aa <3

new grounds | kageyama tobio

literally sparked my love for kageyama!! and this felt like my first actual smau and i'm still very proud of it and in love with it <3 like it was so cozy and all good vibes!! super self indulgent for me writing about a reader in technical theatre and the friend groups and everything we're so special to me <3 i get so many sort of like just big childhood friend groups vibes from this fic lowk i think i may have to look into making moodboards for it...not to mention how much @cr4yolaas' night shift smau is inspiring me... (shameless plug)(ALSO RYE I HAVE TO SEND THIS ASK TO U!! I NEED TO HEAR ABOUT YOUR SELF RECCS AND THOUGHTS ABOUT YOUR OWN FICS <33 I WILL BE IN YOUR INBOX SOON!!)

cold kisses | kozume kenma

life was also lowk a little enjoyable while writing this smau!! like i remember running around fighting for my life the day of prom because i was trying to get ready AND post a chapter of cold kisses <3 i spent so many nights in a cafe writing this smau, i remember the exact seat of the cafe i was sitting in while outlining the smau, i remember working at my last job on dish, and having to stop and pull out my phone to write down ideas, and my manager passing me by and giving me a weird look <3 sorry i guess i associate times in my life a lot with my works although i think that's kind of cool!! i also loved the entire premise of this smau ofc <3 all sparked by how much figure skating tiktok inspired me <3

[gaypeople4itzy]

Coldest night

with Aespa’s Giselle (Aeri)

wordcount : 1,6k

Warnings : kissing, subtle reference to alcohol

I promised you that you would get content soon enough, and here it is <3 I hope you will like it :) take care pretty lovelies !!!

You weren’t sure as to why you had let your friends drag you here; you had told them multiple times already that you weren’t too fond of social gathering. However, since you were already on your way there, you weren’t stubborn enough to take your leave now

It’s not that you disliked socializing or hanging out with friends, in fact, you did enjoy being around others and letting go of the stress school brought you ! It’s just that there were some times where it felt a little bit more intimidating than they should be

You loved your friends, and never could you find yourself be angry at them, though you couldn’t help feeling a little lonely as they all their respective lovers, and you had yet to find yours. You got along well with your friend’s partners, and you were grateful they would enlight your dear friends’ lives, but you did wish you didn’t find yourself alone when they would leave to get some privacy whenever you guys would attend parties or other such kind of events

You weren’t actively looking for a girlfriend yourself, you didn’t even think much of it actually. Although you seemed indifferent about having a lover for yourself, you sometimes did long for the affection and care a romantic partner could bring you. That and accompanying you whenever you found yourself feeling annoyed by the silence you had been living with all throughout your teenage years, as you had never gotten into a proper relationship with anybody

That’s why you found yourself here, close to a window in an attempt to clear your mind with the cold breeze that traveled the outside world. You had been here for a little while, after spending an hour following your friends around. You had lost them some time ago, as they had been going in diverse directions and had disappeared in a span of a few seconds 

You didn’t really mind the peace you felt being in a corner of the room, as you watched a bunch of other students fool around and drink. School dances were quite popular around here, but you didn’t really get the hype. They were more a synonym of hanging out with your friends than partying, which wasn’t bad at all, but not extraordinary or out of your regular routine

And more often than not, they were a bit too much;  

Your head started to ache;

The music was a little too loud, your body hurt a little too much and your vision became a little too blurry. You weren’t really aware of your surroundings anymore, the noise and the suffocating amount of people around were overwhelming you, even though you hadn’t consumed any substances

You weren’t sure of what was going on when you felt something warm wrap around your hands,  

“Hey, is everything alright ? You don’t seem okay”, a soft voice asked

Your vision was still blurry as you tried to distinguish what or who was speaking to you. You started to see come to your senses and see more clearly as your eyes met what seemed like the prettiest girl you had ever seen. She was looking at you with a worried expression on her face. As her hands held yours, you could tell she was waiting for your response

“I’m okay, I think, just feeling dizzy” you responded to her

You expected her to nod and turn away, but instead, her hands went up to your face, making your heartbeat increase. She stared directly in your eyes for a few seconds before she spoke again

“Hmm, yeah. You seem a little sick”

She put a hand around your waist and slipped the other back in your hand as she made you walk forward 

“I’ll take you outside for a bit, how does that sounds ?”

“Sounds good to me.. um? I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name” you told her

“I’m Aeri, nice to meet you pretty” you could feel yourself blushing

“I’m Y/n” you responded to her shyly

As she guided you to a door leading outside, you could feel her breath in your neck. You weren’t sure as to why she was helping you walk and was desperately so gentle, but you weren’t going to complain

“Wait a second” she asked you as you arrived in front of the door

“There” she spoke again, making you wear her own coat so you wouldn’t be too cold

“Oh you don’t need to !” you told her, even if you liked the idea of wearing her clothes

“I’d rather you don’t get cold beautiful” she replied, and winked

You both went outside, walking around the school ground. Holding each other’s hands, you felt somewhat at ease. Yes, she was a girl you had barely seen in the hallways, and you didn’t know much about her aside from her name and the fact that she was in the grade above you

However, it didn’t really matter at that moment. Truly, nothing seemed to matter as she wrapped her arms around you. She smelled so good, and she was so mesmerizing too

“I’m sorry if I seem overly affectionate with you pretty, I just really do find you beautiful, and I don’t wanna lose sight of you. But please, stop me if you ever feel the need to okay ?” she broke the comfortable silence that had lasted between the both of you since you had gone outside

“I really don’t mind it Aeri” you smiled at her

“You’re really pretty too” you admitted to her, clearly blushing, and that didn’t go unnoticed by her

You both gazed at the other for a while, like there was a bunch of words you wanted to blurt out, but nothing was able to come out. It felt good, just looking at the other, nothing else than affectionate eyes and shy smiles. There was tension in the air, like something was about to happen. Your palms were sweaty, and she was breathing heavily, you were both nervous, aware of what could come next

You felt incredibly warm, even if tonight was probably the coldest night of all winter. Time seemed as if it was stopped, like nothing else was left in the world. Unaware of your surroundings, the only thing you could focus on was her

And then, she leaned in

You shut your eyes

“Y/n !! We’ve been looking for you for so long !” your friends yelled, a few feets away

You turned around as Aeri kissed your cheek and glared at your friends. She seemed awfully upset that her moment with you was now ruined

Your friends hugged you, thanking Aeri for looking after you 

“If you don’t mind, we’ll take Y/n back” they said, and didn’t let her the time to even reply anything

You looked at her again, pouting, as you seemingly heard “I’ll see you later” from her, a sly smirk on her face

You were a little disappointed to not be around her anymore, but at the same time, you were glad your friends came, as your heart was finally calming down and you felt way less nervous

It was your first time ever feeling that way

What a strange night!

You hung out with your friendgroup for the rest of the evening, laughing and smiling as they spoke to you. They questioned you a lot about Aeri, though you weren’t sure what to say. Aside from the fact that she was so gentle and made you feel tingly inside, of course

Other students started dancing as music was playing loudly around the room. You didn’t really have the energy to do like the others, but you still forced yourself a little, enjoying the time you had with your friends

A slow started as you suddenly felt hands on your waist, that same perfume and heavy breath hitting you again

“I’m going to steal them for a moment, if you don’t mind” Aeri spoke to your friends, her hand possessively holding you

She dragged you in the middle of the room as she smiled at you all the way to there

“Missed you pretty” she said as she put her forehead against yours, beginning to move in synch with the song that was playing

“May I ask you to dance this slow with me” she asked you, with a little bit of tease in her voice, and a glimpse of lust in her eyes

“Anything for you Aeri” you replied, letting yourself get guided by her movements

You two danced like that for a long while, slow after slow, you were tired but didn’t want this moment to end. You could have stayed like that for years

The last slow was announced as Aeri pulled you closer to her, your lips ghosting hers as she eyed them carefully

“Do you mind if I….” knowing what she meant, you quickly interrupted her with a shy “yes”, wanting to feel her on you

“Anything for you beautiful,” she spoke, before pressing her lips against yours. She was soft, like she had been the whole night, but hungry, she was passionate. You felt something warm in your chest as she kissed you more deeply, her tongue brushing against the insides of your mouth. Occasionally, she would bite your lip, making it sting a little which would cause you to whine. The sounds you’d let escape made her grin, she was having as much fun as you were

You had to pull away for a brief moment; you had to catch your breath

“You taste so sweet, I just can’t get enough of you” she told you, before asking you if you wanted to spend the night together

“Not in a weird way I mean ! I just don’t want to let you go yet” she pouted a little

And you reassured her with another kiss

The wind was maybe roaring outside, your hands were still freezing from earlier and your entire body felt sore; you should have probably gone home long ago,

But that wasn’t enough to pull you away from the warmth that united you two

[broodwolf221]

Happy DADWC! I love the unusual words prompt list! Let's have something for Dorian/Bull, with: "noctivagant - going about in the night; night-wandering" ?

aaa thank you! this was fun <3

@dadrunkwriting

635 words

It had started as a casual suggestion; let’s take a walk. Simple enough. Dorian had to admit that sitting in that library so often was beginning to wear on him - the literature in Skyhold was limited, with most new additions either going downstairs to Solas’ desk or new works that Varric shelved personally. The problem was, Dorian had already read all of them, working through the newest as soon as it was brought up. They weren’t really to his taste, but it was better than reading through yet another book on the southern Chantry.

So he’d started taking trips down to the Herald’s Rest most evenings. Often he drank, but sometimes he just wasted time around people instead. Sometimes he talked with Sera when she was in the mood, and increasingly Bull had invited him to sit with the Chargers, although Dorian always felt woefully out of place there. So a few nights ago Bull had changed tact, asking Dorian if he wanted to take a walk.

There was hardly anything else to do, so he’d agreed. He had regretted that first walk, the wind cutting through his clothing ruthlessly, and even though he realized halfway through that Bull kept trying to carefully - and subtly, all things considered - position himself between Dorian and the wind, it was a useless endeavor. They were too high up and the wind came from everywhere. So when the Inquisitor brought him to Redcliffe, he had spent a fair amount of his own coin on a thick fur coat. Not exactly up to his standard style, but even he would sacrifice comfort to prevent frostbite.

Now they were standing on the battlements, watching the sun go down over the mountains. Dorian was comfortably ensconced in the thick fur, while Bull leaned on the stone beside him. During these walks Dorian had come to appreciate the care with which Bull conducted himself - he’d never once had to dodge those great horns, even when Bull was bent over like now. Were it anyone else, he might have seen the self-awareness as stemming from some anxiety, but with the Qunari it was clearly not an anxious reaction. He was cognizant of who he was, of what he was, and took care with it - without making himself smaller or other than himself.

Dorian admired that. He admired that a lot, actually.

“Never figured you’d get so quiet,” Bull pointed out as the sun finally drifted below the horizon, Dorian laughing. It puffed out in a great white cloud - Maker, but it was chilly up here, especially during the night. He drew the coat up tighter around his neck.

“And here I thought I was sparing you my incessant posturing,” he teased. Bull snorted and gently bumped against Dorian.

“The posturing is nice. Might prefer posing, though.” Dorian felt himself flush and couldn’t entirely bring himself to mind. If nothing else, it made at least one part of his face warm. Besides, this... wasn’t exactly new. He was still figuring it out, still trying to see what Bull wanted from him, but the other man had been patient. More than anything else, that freaked Dorian out. Being desired, being bedded, and nothing afterwards... it was the way it happened in Tevinter. And if he had held out this long with someone back home, they would have gotten tired of him and moved on.

But here they were. Together. Quietly. Gently. “You know,” he said after a beat, “I’m still kind of chilly.”

“Want to go in?” He smiled to hear the sincerity in the question.

“Not really.” Instead he took a step closer, listening to the little huff that escaped the Qunari before a heavy arm settled around him. “Much better.”

“Damn mage,” Bull muttered, Dorian grinning to hear the obvious fondness in his voice.

[the-ultimate-tsbs-kin]

☆TSBS Kin Memories!☆

Foxy

- Dated Puppet

- First getting a crush on Puppet and denying it

- Half Hispanic

- Had a tail (like FC's but more worn out)

- House husband (sorta- I did work, but I did all the housework too)

- Straight (apparently have to clarify that-)

- Lowkey hated Monty (so did Puppet)

Castor

- With Pollux (by earthling standards, both platonic and romantically, but we didn't say things like "date")

- Extremely close bond with Pollux, neither of us ever felt anything remotely close to it with anyone else than with each other

- Pollux loved cuddling and all sorts of physical affection - I did too, but she usually initiated them

- Didn't have the same feelings for Lunar

- Being Gemini felt warm and just... extremely close, in a good way- hard to phrase

- Astrals had a different language, but we knew all the earthly languages so we could communicate with whoever we needed to

- Pollux loved flower jewelry and loved making them for me, so I usually always had a little crown or bracelet or something

- Had telekinesis (idk if that's mentioned or shown on the shows-)

Ruin

- Very flamboyant and fruity, just for fun

- Aroace

- Flirted with anyone and everyone just for their reactions (it was also a great defense mechanism!)

- Me and Bloodmoon weren't dating, but we had- something going on

- Don't know if I really had my own personality because I was almost always acting for my benefit

Killcode

- Very flexible

- Liked to climb up walls on all fours to scare people

- Regularly went on hunts with Bloodmoon

- Actually adored Bloodmoon, who was also very fond of me (I was almost as close to them as they are with each other)

- Had to deal with Bloodmoon throwing tantrums a lot

- Wasn't really fond of Eclipse, I tried to give him the same amount of care and understanding as Bloodmoon but he wasn't taking it so I gave up

- I could not change the smile on my face- it was stuck like that

- Fsr, Bloodmoon was in his newer model in my memories- maybe they were always like that?

Sun

- Had a big thing with Moon, very longstanding, very committed relationship! (Totally wasn't built on trauma-)

- When Eclipse first formed, he had a thing for Moon fsr and only started antagonising us after Moon rejected him

- Had OCD (not my cleaning protocol, I did little rituals for certain things). The main thing I can remember is the lights- before going to bed, I had to switch them on and off a certain amount of times and with certain intervals between switches before it was safe to leave them off. I also had a little mantra I said when I did it. Moon used to be really annoyed by it and I got self conscious and tried to force myself not to do it. Then when he came back after the whole thing with Nexus, he noticed I was still suppressing it and he helped me feel safe enough to do it again <3

- My rays did actually retract with certain emotions. If I got anxious or uncomfortable, they'd go in more. I could technically control it but it happened subconsciously. They didn't spin though

- Wasn't straight- don't remember what I was, but definitely not straight

- Very feminine

- Also house husband

- Always wanted kids

Lunar

- Still hate Eclipse, he unsettles me to no end

- Biggest crush on Gemini and Earth

- Pansexual and ambiamorous

- Actually did enjoy being small

- Age regressed sometimes

- Definitely a femboy

- Loved Earth's hair- very very soft and fluffy >w<

- LIVED off of nutella and ice cream

- Very emotional, never fully got my powers in check :(

[m4ndysk4nkovich]

my thoughts on sandy milkovich:

(buckle up because i have a lot to say, as always)

so, for starters, one thing that i’m not incredibly fond of is how her character isn’t really original. like, it is, but it isn’t. her name is sandy, for christ’s sake- which is literally one letter away from mandy, also not to mention the fact that she was practically raised as mickey’s sister. and in many way’s she’s like a female version of mickey, i’ll explain why:

obviously one way she’s like mickey is that she dated a gallagher, but i think that the way she acts in the relationship is very much like how mickey acts in gallavich. well…acted. more seasons 1-5 gallavich.

she’s a bit less… idk, fearful than mickey was? i mean, it’s understandable why mickey was so fearful- have you seen terry? did you watch 3x666? or 4x11? i would’ve been fearful if i were him, too. we don’t know much about how sandy was raised, but she probably wasn’t raised well. again, she seemingly was raised as mickey’s sister rather than his cousin (he does have a brother who is also his cousin, to be fair, but that’s not what i mean) but sandy’s parents may not have been as threatening or terrifying as terry was. terry does seem to be the most well-known milkovich. everybody knows terry. maybe sandy’s parents were homophobic in a way where they looked down on queer people, but didn’t literally murder them. you can see how much more open she is with the whole “he’s gay, terry. i’m gay. people are gay.”

but sandy can be mean. and so can mickey. i love them both to death but sandy’s fight with debbie in season 11 really reminded me of gallavich in seasons 2/3. specifically “you’re nothing but a warm mouth to me” and “you love me; and you’re gay” she wins the fight by using something to hurt debbie, and it works.

and what was the fight all about? sandy leaving her husband, who she was with as a teenager but felt no love for him whatsoever, and also leaving her kid. sound familiar? ian never held yevgeny and svetlana against mickey, but it’s similar.

and when they break up on the front porch all i, and many other gallavich fans, could think of was “5x12!!!!”

also she was a drug dealer and in juvie and it was implied that she was in prison. this isn’t exclusive to mickey, the only milkovich i can think of (other than yevgeny) who hasn’t been incarcerated is mandy, but we don’t know for sure that she hasn’t been to juvie before. she’s certainly done things that could land her in prison for a very long time.

and i feel like with the same amount of time and development sandy can be as great as her cousin is, because mickey changed A LOT over the seasons which made him even more lovable.

but sandy’s ending was pathetic and i hate the writers for it. it was unnecessary and damaged debbie’s character when she didn’t need it because sandy left literally 4 EPISODES BEFORE THE SERIES FINALE. the only thing that sandy leaving added was the evidence that debbie would stick with franny no matter what, but fuck that, it was too late in the show for most people (not me ofc) to give a shit about that. people overlooked that a lot.

i feel like sandy helped out debbie’s character a lot, while simultaneously fucking her up even more. but i loved sandy for most of her run on the show, i just wish that they had done more- or less. idk. they made her character more complicated than she needed to be, and it’s hard to put my feelings about her into words because they didn’t give us enough to work on.

i think that her relationship with royal was bad, and i think that he was probably a creep who impregnated her, and i bet that he knew she was a lesbian after they got married and things probably got messy. the way that royal described sandy’s choices to prince was good, though. i respected that.

anyway, if they kept making shameless seasons (which they wont) i would love a sandy redemption. possibly like the returns of mickey, jimmysteve, or kelly.

im not reading this over before i post it so if it doesn’t make sense then oh well

[electrikworm]

Avpol April Day 3: Warmth

@avpol-april

Carrying a large amount of stuff with you wasn’t an option when traveling over long times and large distances, so what clothes you took with you had to be carefully considered.

Polnareff was rather fond of his chosen outfit. It suited him and showed off his physique quite nicely, whilst not restricting his movement at the same time.

Okay, sure, it wasn’t perfect. Exposed shoulders and arms weren’t optimal in the intense sun they experienced on their hunt for Dio, especially since Polnareff burned faster than he could put sunscreen on. Black also wasn’t the best colour to wear out in direct sunlight. But overall, it had served Polnareff well and made him look good whilst doing so.

At that point in time however, Polnareff was regretting the way he chose to dress.

That a place as hot as Egypt got that cold at the night was frankly unfair. It would have been fine if they’d stayed inside, but of course they had to stay the night somewhere in the middle of nowhere with no hotel or even houses in sight. He was going to sleep terribly that night.

Sitting up in his sleeping bag, that did little to keep him warm, Polnareff drew his arms around himself tighter. The fire they’d made to cook dinner a few hours earlier had all but gone out by now, only a few glowing embers still rested among the charred wood.

That that was better than nothing. Polnareff moved to sit closer to what used to be their fire, pulling his sleeping bag around his shoulders as he did so.

There wasn’t much heat coming from the embers, but if he got his hands close enough at least he could warm those up. Polnareff had never mixed particularly well with low temperatures, always being the first to be bothered by them and having almost permanently cold hands.

A shiver ran through his body.

A sound behind him stirred him from his thoughts. Polnareff snapped around in alarm only to make eye contact with Avdol. Polnareff had previously assumed he was deep asleep a little way away from where he was sitting at the remains of the fire. It was night, but under the light of the stars and the moon it wasn’t hard to see Avdol. He was laughing quietly.

“Wh- What’s so funny?” Polnareff asked, trying to stop his voice from shaking from the cold.

“Oh, sorry, it’s just… Are you perhaps cold?” replied Avdol, clearly amused.

Polnareff always loved hearing Avdol’s laugh, but right now his situation felt a little too undignified for him to appreciate it. Polnareff felt his cheeks heat up, pulling the sleeping bag to sit better around his shoulders. Maybe if this continued, his own embarrassment would be enough to keep him from succumbing to hypothermia.

“Not all of us wear a school uniform in the desert or have a literal flaming bird as a stand!” Avdol laughed again and Polnareff thought that if any sound was warm enough to keep someone freezing, it would be that of Avdol’s laugh.

“You should have taken a jacket with you. Or something with long sleeves.” Polnareff huffed and glared at Avdol.

“Well, I know that now. I didn’t think we’d be dealing with the cold on a trip to Egypt. If it gets any colder, it might actually start to snow!” Polnareff turned back to the burnt out fire, the sound of Avdol’s amusement still filling the air behind him. “Ha ha, yes, very funny. But please, go back to sleep so at least one of us two is well rested.”

Avdol fell silent after a short while, his laughter dying down. Polnareff thought that maybe he should ask Avdol to have Magician’s Red relight the fire. It would only take a little of his time, so Polnareff was sure Avdol wouldn’t mind. Polnareff turned to face him again.

“Hey, Avdol coul-“

“Would you- oh, you go first.”

“No, no, what were you going to say?” Polnareff was curious now. Being cold could wait.

“I just was going to ask…” Avdol paused and cleared his throat. Them interrupting each other must have thrown him off. “Uh, you see… I’ve been told before that I run quite hot and seeing as you’re cold I thought that maybe… You’d like to come over here?”

“Come over there?” Polnareff asked, trying not to leap to conclusions. Polnareff hoped Avdol meant what he thought he meant. Avdol cleared his throat again.

“You know, share body heat.” Oh, he did mean what Polnareff though he did. “If that’s okay, obviously” Avdol added quickly.

“Oh no, that’s completely okay!” said Polnareff whilst standing up too fast.

When Avdol sat up and pulled his robe aside to make place for him, Polnareff hesitated. It dawned on him how intimate this whole thing was.

“We can’t have you freezing to death, can we?” Now Polnareff laughed, deciding to disregard his worries over the intimacy of the situation. It was, after all, Avdol who offered in the first place.

He sat down next to Avdol, the heavy fabric of his robe being draped over Polnareff’s shoulders. After a moment of consideration from Avdol, his arm followed too. Polnareff quickly concluded that Avdol most definitively radiated heat. The arm around his shoulders added a pleasant weight to the warmth that seeped into his skin at every point his body met Avdol’s.

When Avdol moved to lay down again he pulled Polneraff down with him. It was quiet now. All Polnareff could hear was the rhythm of Avdol’s breathing. He could feel it too, the steady rise and fall of his chest where Polnareff’s cheek was pressed to the soft beige fabric of Avdol’s shirt. And while his heart was racing, Polnareff was certain that he could fall asleep in minutes like this.

“What was it that you were going to say?” asked Avdol after a while.

“Hmm?” Polnareff blinked, not finding it in himself to lift his head to try and look at Avdol.

“When you were sitting at the fire. You were going to say something.”

“Oh. I was… just going to complain about the temperature again.” Avdol hums in response. Polnareff didn’t see the need to mention Magician’s Red now. This was better than a fire.

“You have cold hands.” Avdol said, laying his warm one over Polnareff’s.

Polnareff was glad that Avdol couldn’t see his face because he was sure he was blushing furiously at this point.

But it was nice to feel this warm, this comfortable. Their journey wasn’t an easy one and it would continue to grow harder as they approached Dio, but right now, Polnareff was more than content.

He hadn’t even expected to be alive past his quest for revenge, but he was glad he was.

And as they both started to fall asleep under the light stars and the moon, Polnareff secretly hoped that they’d spend more nights not sleeping at hotels.

[mrn2electricboogaloo]

"Unfortunate" doesn't begin to describe my Splatfest, this game rewards Shiver simps and no one else, I am beyond convinced at this point. After getting my hopes up with the win in the Splatfest sneak peak, losing this way somehow felt even worse than I had thought possible. Our cause was superior, our play was superior, and we lost, so I don't see a reason to continue engaging in an activity where what is within my control is overwhelmingly outweighed by what is not.

I am done with Splatoon 3, and you won't get a fond farewell. This community is infected to its roots with a degenerative disease that grows stronger over time but stops short of killing its host. Spatfests used to have a competitive spirit at their heart, this has been transplanted and replaced with an artificial organ that feeds on vitriol and mockery from insecure simps that heckle by the sidelines and tear each other to shreds over scraps of attention. The environment we fostered has trapped us all like this in a vicious cycle, and escaping it requires acceptance of the harshest reality we all scramble to explain away, that none of the countless straining efforts we put ourselves through here will ever amount to one single shining glimmer of significance. I would make this the end, but my friends want to try out the new weapons, and I would never leave so many great friends out to dry, so I'll suffer through a few more games for them.

One last thing before I leave you all to react with disdain, ridicule, and self-righteous fervor, before you do everything in your power to minimize my words and thoughts, box them up and shove them to some cobwebbed corner of your memory, and hope they disappear forever as a stain on your finite time ground to dust. From this moment on, nothing you say matters to me. The foulest insults you hurl with intent to wound will calmly settle at the earth before my feet, and the venom you spit will bring all the pain of a warm summer breeze. You are less than anything you can conceive, while I carry on, brimming with joy distilled from detachment.