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#but sometimes that's seriously what it's like
mysteryshoptls · 1 day
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SSR Ace Trappola - Room Relaxation Voice Lines
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When Summoned: Yaaaawn, sooo sleepy... But it's a waste to keep sleeping! I think I'll roll around in bed some more.
Summon Line: Since it's my birthday, that means I can pretty much get away with askin' for whatever I want, right? Wonder what I should get my roommates to do for me...
Groooovy!!: No way, I overslept!? No way I can hit up the school with bedhead on my birthday of all days!
Home: Whew, now I'm feelin' fresh~
Swap Looks: Guess I'ma go wash m'face...
Home Idle 1: I couldn't find the shirt I was gonna wear tomorrow, but it ended up being mixed in with my roommate's stuff. Annoyin' how that happens sometimes.
Home Idle 2: Ruggie-senpai forced some vegetable seeds into my hands. He said I better share some with him when I harvest 'em... Would this even grow that much?
Home Idle 3: You wanna know about this hoodie? I bought it at a clothing shop in Foothill Town. It's pretty comfy, and also perfect to wear as loungewear, don'tcha think?
Home Idle - Login: Don't birthday mornings just feel special? I'm so jazzed I even get really into doin' up my hair!
Home Idle - Groovy: Kalim-senpai threw me a huge party as a celebration even though I'm not in Scarabia... Maaan, he's always so insanely nice!
Home Tap 1: Sometimes I'll play darts or card games with my roommates. 'Though, there's one loud-mouthed, thick-headed idiot that's always gettin' in the way!
Home Tap 2:I can't even imagine what kind of present Malleus-senpai could pick for me~ I guess I got nothing to lose by asking him... Nah, never mind.
Home Tap 3: I got softer hair, so I get bedhead super easily. Man, I've been late so many times 'cause of it!
Home Tap 4: I was messin' with Sebek, pushing his buttons and sayin' he probably sucks at gift-giving, when he shouted, "I'll show you what I can really do!" Ahaha, oh, I totally can't wait to see what he comes up with~
Home Tap 5: Eh, my hair's sticking out in the back!? Ugh, seriously? I thought I fixed it up. Guess I'll hafta fix it up in a flash during break.
Home Tap - Groovy: You like my taste in loungewear? I knew you'd get me. And see, I even picked these sandals in the same color to give it an overall coordinated look!
Duo: [ACE]: Can't wait to see how you'll celebrate with me, Kalim-senpai! [KALIM]: Let's dance, sing, and party hard, Ace!
Birthday Login Message: Oh hey, did you come to celebrate my birthday? Nice timing, we just finished morning basketball practice! My clubmates all wished me a happy birthday, too. Jamil-senpai said it as soon as he saw me, and by some miracle, Floyd-senpai gave me a very normal birthday greeting. I'm sure glad he was in a good mood~ Oh, hey. We should hit the Mystery Shop between classes. ...Hm? Why're you tensin' up? Huuuh? C'mon, I didn't say nothing about treating me, now diiid I? Hehe, see you later~
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Requested by @thelonepearl.
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alostwanderernotfound · 19 hours
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HIV and COVID
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A major barrier to preventing the spread of HIV is accurate test results.
There is a high chance there are many people with HIV that have it and do not know. We do not know how long this undetected time period is (lentiviruses are often associated with long periods of time of virus activity that goes undetected- 5 to 10 years or more), but there is a chance many individuals with HIV go undiagnosed for many years. Individuals during this time before an HIV diagnosis complain of fatigue and many undiagnosed disabling symptoms during that time period. HIV is able to cause changes to immune cells that prevent HIV tests from finding the infection. Some people get negative HIV tests when they are HIV positive. This means you could be HIV negative, but still have HIV in your blood and can spread HIV to other individuals.
Getting a COVID vaccination (and sometimes other vaccinations like the flu vaccination) can help the body identify HIV hiding in the body. This allows earlier treatment and intervention. Once HIV has been identified, it also reduces the risk for all individuals in our population to be exposed to more severe infections.
Getting tested regularly for HIV used to be part of our federal public health recommendations.
This just further emphasizes why this information is so important to know and healthcare needs to start testing for more diseases in more people and do these tests more often.
People often assume their infection came from an unfaithful partner, but in reality HIV has been spreading unknowingly to many in the medical community and still in the public sphere no one is talking about it like the huge deal it is.
This potential means people could be raped as a child, never have sex again, never encounter drugs, and then be miserable & living with an active HIV infection into their early 20s and they would never know. Once they got a positive test result they would have no idea where the infection even came from.
Our entire understanding of these types of diseases has to change and the seriousness of this topic has to be addressed by the world. This was theorized as a mechanism of HIV spread due to how many people were getting diagnosed but had no identifiable cause of their HIV, but now it’s proven and right in front of us. This is disastrous.
To everyone that told the truth about how they didn’t know how they got these types of diseases & how they had no idea where they got it from then faced judgement from others and even the medical community- you aren’t crazy.
On behalf of everything these types of diseases did to destroy families, relationships, and your body, I’m going to apologize right now for all the individuals that I know won’t ever give you an apology for what they did and what they said.
I believe you. I always did.
Without you telling your truth , we never would have been able to figure this out about HIV.
HIV is spreading in “HIV negative” individuals to other individuals as some researchers theorized.
The mRNA vaccination technology developed is now the foundation for the next generation of HIV treatment and disease control. We must continue to push and advocate for improving the lives of all people with disease and we all just took a huge step forward.
You do not have to be sexually active to develop HIV. Your sexual trauma doesn’t have to define your life for the rest of your life- you are stronger than you know and braver than you feel.
Find a place to get tested for HIV here:
I still recommend getting a NAT or “viral load” test done as the first test to see if you have HIV.
I think considering what we know about HIV and in consideration of all the things we still don’t know that this is the safest option. Any other test for this condition available today has too high of a chance of producing a wrong result. I find it extremely uncomfortable we still use the other types of tests in the hospital and doctor office settings.
If you choose to order a test through an online service be aware some tests only tell you about either HIV-1 or HIV-2 and will not always provide you information related to type 1 and type 2.
For example, here:
This will provide you information related to ordering a test that looks for both types of HIV instead of just one strain of HIV.
Stay safe.
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luveline · 4 hours
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hey!! I'd love to see one where maybe jack and hotch try speaking to the baby in pregnant!reader's tummy :))
thank you for requesting! fem, 1k
You sniff Aaron’s hair. It’s your right as his wife to enjoy his smells. You’re too tired for subtlety. “You know how many weeks I am today?” you ask. 
You’re in a bubble together. Aaron answers with his usual calm tenor. “You are twenty seven weeks today, honey.” 
It’s endearing that he knows. It’s nice to have found a good one. To never have to worry about compassion or care. Which isn’t to say he’s perfect, he makes wrong decisions, and he disappoints you sometimes, but still, he’s a good one. You aren’t perfect either and you don’t have to be, all you need to do is love and respect one another as much as is physically possible, and you do.  
“Mm,” you hum, drawing a heart into his arm, “and you know what they say around this time?” 
“I’m not sure.” 
“She can hear you, if you want to talk to her.” 
“Really?” 
“That’s what I read earlier on. That if you talk to her through my stomach, she can probably hear your voice. By full term she’ll have hearing like me and you.” 
“Is that true?” he asks, resting his hand on your bump. Sometimes when the baby is in a bad mood and her foot feels like it’s making a bruise through your skin, all Aaron has to do is touch you, and she stops. 
“Well, according to the baby book. They say by twenty nine weeks it’s a sure thing.” 
“Can I speak to her?” 
You brush through his hair with your pinky nail. “Sure, sweetheart. You can talk to her all night long, I’m sure she’d love to hear your voice.” You push the hair from his forehead. “I like hearing you talk.” 
“Lay back,” he says. 
Aaron sits up and you lay down, your head in the pillows, your pregnancy cushion a support on your left side. He slides your t-shirt up slowly as though giving you time to say no. He begins to rub slow circles around the bump, before laying his head flat to he bed, his lip less than two inches from your distended tummy. 
“Hi, baby,” he says, unabashed. “How are you feeling?” 
You laugh. He peeks up at you. 
“Sorry, it’s just funny.” 
“It’s okay. I’d laugh if you started asking my stomach questions too…” He smiles. “But my baby’s in there, so you’ll have to forgive me.” 
“I won’t laugh again, promise.” 
“It’s fine if you do. I’m finding it hard to take myself seriously.” He slows his rubbing. “Baby, if you can hear me, please say hi… I love you. I’m so happy you’re getting bigger.” 
The longer he talks, the less funny it becomes. His melodic murmuring turns praising, he talks of you and Jack and every amazing thing waiting for the baby in the world when she’s done cooking. He tells her he loves her, loves you, that she’s beautiful even though she’s shaped like a GMO kidney bean. He’s totally relaxed. You fall in love with him all over again. 
“And it looks like your big brother wants to say hi too,” he says. 
You perk up. Footsteps rush down the hall to the master bedroom, and a knock echoes fast. Jack doesn’t wait for an answer, bursting in with a happy gasp. “I knew you were still awake,” he says. “Please can I come watch TV with you?” 
“Sure, buddy, but we aren’t watching anything right now,” Aaron says. 
“What are you doing?” 
“I’m talking to your sister.” 
Jack leans against the bed, fingers screwing in Aaron’s shirt unthinkingly. “You are?” 
“I read in my book today that she can maybe hear you when you talk to her,” you tell him. “Would you want to talk to her, bud?” 
“Can I?” 
“Sure. I don’t mind. I’d love for you to say hello, ‘cos how special is that? For the last few weeks, all she’s been able to hear is me. She doesn’t know she has a whole family waiting for her.” 
Aaron straightens and helps Jack climb onto the bed. He settles at the pillows with you, leaning down briefly to kiss you, lips misaligned but no less gentle. 
“What do I say?” Jack whispers, putting his hand carefully on your bump. 
“You can say anything you want,” you whisper back. “You can say hi, or you can tell her something. The best thing about babies is that we get to teach them about everything.” 
“Okay, um… well,” —he braces himself with two hands on your tummy and leans in— “you can’t see, but we have a dad with brown hair and brown eyes, and we have a super pretty mommy who smiles all the time at me…” Jack’s cheek tips toward his shoulder. “On Sunday they take me to the library and we stay there all morning. And for dinner we always have, um, one hand of vegetables and one hand of chicken, or pork, or pasta. But it’s okay if you can’t finish everything.” 
He looks at his father. “Is that okay?” he asks. 
Aaron offers his hand. “Buddy, that’s perfect. You can tell her anything that you want. She just wants to hear your voice.” 
“Can I tell her about teenage mutant ninja turtles?” 
You laugh. “Sure,” Aaron says. 
Jack starts to talk about Donatello. You try not to laugh as his little hands tickle you, turning your face into Aaron’s side. 
“I have so many things to say to you right now, but I’m worried it’s too saccharine,” he says. 
“Save them for later,” you say, hugging his waist. “Can I nap here? Would you rub my arm?” 
Aaron rubs your arm as you’ve asked. You fall asleep to the sound of your stepsons mumbled rambling and Aaron’s occasional breathy laugh. 
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spidybaby · 3 days
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Leaked
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Summary: A few leaked pictures revealed the truth about your relationship.
Warnings: cursing, mentions of cheating, gaslight.
"One pic." You smile at him, eyes begging. "Just one, c'mon."
You try to take the polaroid of him, but his hand brings the camera down.
"Kylian!" You pout. "It's for me. I won't show it." You smile. "I wanted a picture of you with the beautiful sunset." You say, hugging him and bumping his nose with yours.
He shakes his head, smiling at you.
You love him very much, even tho sometimes you feel like being secretive about your relationship was a big burden.
He tries his best to make you feel loved and to let you know that no matter what, you are important to him.
"It's so pretty." You say, admiring it.
"Pretty like you, mon amour." He says, smiling at you.
You blush at his comment. You love compliments, especially if they came from him. Even better.
"Want to go back to the house?" He asks, taking his key out of his pocket. "Want to see my driving abilities?"
"No, sir. I would love to make it to dinner." You laugh. "Can I drive?"
"Maybe later." He smiles.
You two walk closer to his car, he opens it, giving the key to his chauffeur. He opens the door for you.
You grab a bottle of water from the small cooler the car has. You love Madrid, but the weather not so much.
It was hot as hell, even if Kylian says he loves it because he gets to see you in more sexy clothes, you just can't agree.
"I feel sticky." You joke with him. He places his cheek on top of your shoulder. Moving it up and down. "Iugh, Kylian!" You laugh.
"Now I'm sticky too." He laughs with you. "And I smell like paradise." He sniffs the air.
You roll your eyes at him. Placing your hand on his cheek and moving your head to give him a kiss con his forehead.
"Want me to make dinner?" You ask.
He nods, he loves your cooking. It was something he always asked you to perform. "I'll miss you when you are back in Paris." He pouts.
"Me too, baby." You copy his pout. "I can be here for your first Champions League match." You smile at him.
"I'll get you the ticket as soon as we get home."
That's the easy part, you mention something and he get it for you.
Do you like the new Van Cleef bracelet? Okay, it's being delivered to your door in the next few hours.
> But Kylian, it's over 11k euros <
It doesn't matter, that's pocket change for him.
Did you retweet something about a Kelly bag? Done, it's yours.
You loved that. It was amazing how he would spend anything just to see you happy. The best part was that he never expected anything in exchange.
He did it by heart. Even when you tell him that it was too much, that it was just a tweet, it was just a like on a insta post. It was just a comment about his new bracelet.
He didn't care, he would get it for you.
You sometimes wished that he could do that with his time. It was the downside, a weekend, and then back to Paris. A game and back home.
You loved that he got you vip tickets. You loved the first-class airplane tickets. You loved that he would look for you at the stadium.
You didn't love the rumors about him and other girls. Influencers who wore his jersey were making headlines about a possible romance.
He always reassures you. It's all a lie. You trust him. Plus, he was with you.
"Can you pass me the pijama that's on my closet? Please." He asks, seating in bed after eating.
You nod, walking to the closet. You turn the lights on, being greeted by a big white bag with golden letters.
"Seriously?" You ask him, walking with the bag in hands.
He looks at you smiling. "It's nothing." He chuckles.
"This is a lot." You whisper. "You just gave me one when we were in Paris." You remind him.
"But this is a tote. You can take it with you to class, or if you want to go out and take a lot of things." He smiles. You take the box out of the bag, open it, and take the bag out. "Don't you like it?"
You nod. "Thank you." You say walking over to him, kissing him.
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"Do you like the orange one or the white one?" You ask him.
"We are using the white one, but that orange one is gorgeous on you." He takes the white one away from your hands carefully.
He throws the jersey on the bed, taking the orange one. He asked you to lift your hands, dressing you with his jersey.
"You look amazing." He smiles, grabbing your waist and kissing your lips. "My gorgeous queen."
You turn to the mirror, his hands on your waist, his face on the crock of your neck. You smile at his reflection.
"If I score, it would be for you." He says.
You blush at his comments, you love the way your cheeks heat up for him. It was something so normal yet so personal.
"Are we doing something after the game?" You ask, hopeful that he would say yes.
"My family is at home." He says, separating from you. "And I have a recovery sesion very early tomorrow."
"Oh." You mumble. "It's okay, I get that you are busy."
He nods, kissing your cheek. "The driver I hired for you is downstairs, just call him when you are ready to leave. He'll also wait for you to take you back here after the game and then to the airport." He instructed.
"Wait, I'm leaving today?" You ask, confused.
You understand that he would be busy with recovery, having his family who you don't know at home, and even being tired after the game.
But when he booked you the ticket, he asked you to bring clothes for more than just a night. So you did, you have a suitcase with different types of outfits.
"Yes, mom wants me to spend some time with them. Sorry." You just nod, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. "Wish me luck." He smiles.
"You don't need it, Kyks." You smile back. "Go, it's going to be late for you." You say, grabbing his cheeks and kissing his lips quickly.
You see how he leaves the room, leaving an empty feeling behind. It was starting to feel like a pattern.
You brush the thoughts out of your mind. Waiting for the right time to leave. He sent you over the contact of the driver.
You feel weird. It's been a good time since you two became a thing. Sure, he never asked you to formalize anything, but you thought that maybe by now you won the meet the parents prize.
He always talks about them, how he loves spending time with his little brother. He talks about his niece and nephew.
You hear him ramble about them, their little adventures. How much he loves them. And you are happy with that. You love hearing those stories.
You just feel that after a year and a half, you were meeting with them at some point.
You aren't going to ask him. If he wanted, he was going to invite you to meet them. It didn't have to be forced by you.
You retouch your hair and a little bit of your makeup, texting the driver that you were ready to go.
The stadium felt so alive, it was the teams' first champions league game. The vibe was high and the feelings were too.
realmadrid
Estadio Santiago Bernabéu
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Liked by 1,100,384 others
realmadrid 💥 KYLIAN MBAPPE💥 #UCL
The game was good, it was crazy how the second half was so different from the first one. Kylian scoring just seconds after it started was unreal.
You texted him that you were back in the hotel, picking your things to leave to the airport. You thank him for inviting you to the game and asked him to text you when he was free.
> it's like being a ghost <
You remember the words of your friend. She was the only person who knew about him and you.
You shake those things out of your head. He was busy and wanted to spend some time with his family. They lived in Paris and he barely even see them.
You can always come back.
You take a quick shower, taking the sweat away. You need to be fresh and clean for the flight and also because as soon as you land, you want to go home and sleep.
You pack the things you took out, making sure you won't forget anything. He texted you back, wishing you a safe flight and to text thing when you are home.
The driver took you to the airport, kylian texted you the plane ticket right after he left the hotel room.
You call your friend to ask her to pick you up from the airport. You already know what she's going yo say.
"Hey, how's Madrid?" She asks, happy to hear you.
"I'm actually waiting for my flight to Paris." You say, trying to act as if you planned it. "I have to be on an important meeting, and I have to cut short this trip."
"What?" She says. "Your boss doesn't have another employee to bother?"
"He does, but I have the documents, and he felt like having a meeting." You lie. "Kylian was very understanding tho."
"That's sad. Do you need me to pick you up?"
"Can you?" You ask, tired. "If not, I can order an Uber."
"Nono, text me the ticket info so I can pick you up." She says. "See you."
You say your goodbyes to her, hanging up the call and texting her what she asked. You waited a good hour before your flight took you back home.
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"Do you want to try paella?" Kylian asks you.
He kisses your shoulder, he scoops water from the pool into his hands, and wet your head. You laugh, shaking your head.
"Is it good?" You ask, turning to him.
You hug him, bringing him as close as possible to yourself. His warmth combined with the water of the pool and the salty air is making you feel in paradise.
"It's so good." He smiles.
He presses his hands on your cheeks, smiling at how cute you look with your hair all natural, you blushy cheeks that are colored by the sun.
"You will love it." He says, kissing your cheek. "I know an amazing place, I can order it and we can eat it here while drinking something nice.
You frown lightly. "Isn't it more comfortable if we eat there?"
"Don't get me wrong, it is." He sighs. "But I don't want people to ruin our night."
You understood that people know him very well. So, for him, it was easier to order the food, order the things, or ask his chef to make it.
"Okay!" You smile, pecking him. "Order it now so we don't stress or go hungry later." You push him lightly, swimming away while you smirk at him.
You two enjoy the rest of the evening on the private pool you have. It was so fun getting to travel with him to where the games are taking place.
"Do you think you are winning this game?"
"I think we have a chance." He says, passing you the towel as you two exit the bathroom after a shower. "Don't you?"
"Don't get me wrong, but this team is really strong, I'm surprised."
"They are." He laughs. "But they don't have me on their team." He smiles cocky.
You laugh at his cocky self. You find funny and kind of cute that he is, he really believe in himself and trust his instincts.
You change as he orders some drinks from the bar of the hotel. You get your hair ready even if you were just staying in the room with him.
"I order you a piña colada pie." He smiles, hugging your waist. "Love your pajamas." He chuckles.
"I know, they match yours." You laugh, hip bumping his. "They have cute fish on it."
"The food would be here in a few, I think it would be a competition between the food and our drinks."
"Do you want me to pick it up from the lobby?" You ask, applying your cream.
"I'll ask my bodyguard. Don't worry, amour." He says, texting his bodyguard. "That cream smells amazing." He sniffs you from afar.
yourusername has added to their story
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"I'm tired." You yawn.
You rest your head on his chest, the sound of his heart is calming you even more.
"Sleep, mon amour." He whispers, hands caressing your back and your arm. "We can sleep until late tomorrow."
"That sounds amazing." You whisper back, eyes shutting off.
You feel his heart and his hands on your body. Relaxing you enough to fall asleep.
The only thing that takes you out of your relaxed state is the vibration of your phone. You open your eyes, searching for your phone.
You kick it with your hand, making it fall from the bed. You groan, letting the phone vibrate while you throw the blanket over your head.
"Ky, can you turn the ac off?" You ask, morning voice very evident. "Ky?"
You take the blanket off of you, turning your head to his side, he wasn't there.
"Ky, are you in the bathroom?" You ask, a little louder.
You shrug, not giving it mind. He sometimes has an early meeting before a match. It was a common thing.
You were about to fall back to sleep when your phone started vibrating again. You groan, stretching to pick it up from the floor, it was your friend.
"Good morning sunshine." You joke with her.
"Check my message." She says, stern tone.
You frown, putting her on speaker and opening your messages. "Are you okay?" You say while searching her message.
"I am, I just want to make sure you will be." She says as her tone stays the same.
"What?" You noticed she was texting you very early. Without success to get an answer from you. "What is this?"
You click on the link she sent you, the wifi from the hotel making it very hard.
"Girl, it's not loading." You say.
"Then try again, fuck!." She nervously say.
After a few tries, the page finally opened. You feel your heart sink.
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Leaked pictures?
Leaked video?
Who was this girl who people now say is his girlfriend?
"Y/n?" Your friend calls you. "Are you still there?"
You don't answer, scrolling down to search the pictures. The page doesn't really show them.
"I'll call you back." You say, voice cracking. "Just give me a minute." You hang up the call.
You open X to search for the info you want. His name is a trending topic on X. Different variations of it. The name of the girl is also trending.
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You press with shaky fingers on his last name.
The first thing you see is a collage of the "leaked" material. A compilation of very risky and sexy Polaroids.
The video, but not one, two.
Even when she has dark hair on the pictures and videos, she is the girl from the article. It was obvious.
One is this girl filming herself adjusting her clothes, she smiles at the camera and shows her middle finger, she then rotates the camera showing kylian sitting on a chair he has on his room in Madrid.
You know that chair, you helped him pick it up when he moved.
The other video is him filming, the girl now has a red lingerie set, you can't really see her face but you know the hands are his.
He was putting her in handcuffs, her hands on her back as he maneuvered to click the cuffs with only one hand.
What's sticking in the video is the gold bracelet you know he has. That because you were the one who give it to him.
She has pictures with his family, with his nephew and niece, and with Ethan. She has a picture with his mom and dad.
You can't help but cry, feeling sick. You let the phone fall back onto the floor. You sob the hurt your heart is feeling.
You don't know how much time you spend in the same position, crying. You heard the door opening. Making you shiver.
He closes the door slowly. Maybe he thinks you are still sleeping. He walks slowly to the doors that reveal the bed area.
He finds your eyes looking at him. The tears in your eyes, your wet cheeks. You take your sight away.
There's no point in lying.
You want to ask him, want to confront him, but you don't even know what to say, what to ask.
He sits back on the bed, he's silent.
The room would be dead silent if it weren't for your sobs. You have your head in your hands as you cry.
You get up, walking towards the bathroom. You slam the door. You keep crying there. You don't want to be in the same room as him.
You wash your face and brush your teeth. You try to get it together, even when you look like shit. Even with puffy eyes and a red face from crying.
You open the door, walking towards your things. You start packing your things. He's just looking at you.
"How long?" You turn to see him. "How long were you pretending to have me like this?" You ask him.
He doesn't answer. He only hang his head low.
"We were together for a year and eight months, Kylian." You sob. You try to calm yourself, taking a deep breath. "And I know, you never asked me to be anything, but I thought that after all the time we were together, you somehow cared about me."
"I do." He finally answer. "I care about you."
You shake your head, not believing his audacity. "You call this." You point at him and then back at you several times. "Caring?"
He shrugs. "She doesn't mean what you mean to me."
You laugh. He shivers at how your laugh sounds so different from your usual one.
"You can tell yourself that I mean a lot, but you introduce her to your family, you take her to your family trip, she knows the kids of your brother." You start to point all the things he did with her. "I don't even know your friend Tchaga." You whisper.
You feel humiliated, how you really thought that you matter for him. How you told yourself time after time that he didn't introduced you to his family because he wasn't ready.
"I feel so stupid." You whisper, trying not to cry. "I thought you loved me." You sob. "Cause I do, I love you."
He gets up from bed, walking over to you, but you shake your head no, taking a few steps back.
"I love you." He says. "I really do."
"I don't believe you, Kylian." You shake your head. You can't even look at him for longer than ten seconds.
"I hide our relationship because it was nobody's business." He explains.
His excuses felt like knives on the heart.
"Does she have any humor?" You ask, making him frown from how random was your question. "Does she laugh at your jokes? Can she look past the rumors? Does she know how it goes?" You keep asking him.
He doesn't even have time to process the questions you asked before you start questioning him again.
'Did you ever feel bad while you were doing what you did?" You question him. "Did you ever think of me while you were with her? Did you ever cared that I was in Paris, waiting for you?" Your eyes fill with tears. You try to blink them away. "I am in love with you."
"I'm in love with you too." He whines. "You need to believe me."
He tries to get closer once again. You walk away from him. Grabbing a change of clothes as your lock yourself inside the bathroom.
You quickly change off of your pajamas, not wanting to spend any more time with him. You were going to accept that he did what he did and that you can't change the fact that he lied to you.
When you exit the bathroom, he stands up from the bed. "We can fix this, please." He begs. "Don't do this to me."
You scuff. You push him away from you as you grab your shoes and put them on. You throw the pajama inside your luggage.
"If I ask you something, can you at least be honest?"
He nods, the glossy shine from his eyes almost making him look innocent.
"Was she worth losing me?"
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simplygojo · 1 day
Text
I Like Your Tie...
A/n: OMG ONE OF MY FAVS REQUESTED! I loved this request; thats why it took SO LONG I’m sorry my friend I hope you enjoyyyy!! <3 I needed another Nanami request so bad so you did me a favour with this one, LOLLL.
Request: “Your last Toji fic got me frothing like a rabid dog. Lol. in all ways it was very uniquely him indeed ! The same for Gojo and Witch!Reader. Could I shy request a fic with the song 'Talk' by Hozier paired up with Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader ? Something sensual steamy but ever so romantic for the blonde? I can practically see him saying or thinking such lyric quotes as "I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things we'd do... So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you. Imagine being loved by me". May she's a fellow Special Grade sorcerer, and their friendship keeps building up, but neither wants to cross the line ? So they dance around it, until something happens ? Idk. >\\\\\\\\\\\\\\< I'll leave it to your artistic hands and imagination what to do with this? If you feel inspired to. In any case, please delete if this seems rubbish. Anyway, thank you for your stories ! Thank you so much. ♡” - @erebus-et-eigengrau (lurvv uu)
My requests are always open :)
Pairing: Kento Nanami x f/reader
Word count: 3.8K
Warnings: 18+ Content, SMUT!, intercourse, light choking, control kink(ish), pet name
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The late-night quiet of Jujutsu High was comforting in a way—no students rushing through the halls, no teachers around to monitor. You had been grateful for the peace, retreating to your room after a long day.
But as you reached your door, you stopped in your tracks.
There he was. Nanami Kento stood in front of your door, leaning casually against the wall. 
You and Nanami had been friends for what felt like a lifetime, though it all began back in high school. Back then, you had a bit of a crush on him—not that you’d ever admit it. He wasn’t the type to flirt or give much attention to relationships, but there was something about him that always caught your eye. 
You had your moments, too—shared laughter, and private conversations late into the night, when the walls between friends almost seemed to blur. 
But Nanami never made a move, and neither did you. You knew how seriously he took his role as a sorcerer, and you didn’t want to complicate your friendship with feelings that you weren’t sure were mutual.
As you both graduated and eventually became high-level sorcerers, those moments of potential intimacy became even more distant. You grew into your own roles, taking on increasingly dangerous missions and fighting curses that most could barely comprehend. Nanami was often assigned to the same missions as you, his calm, steady presence a source of reassurance when things got chaotic.
There were times when his professionalism would slip, just for a moment. A fleeting look, a brush of his fingers against yours, his voice dropping an octave when he spoke your name. You always wondered if he felt it too—that same tension you tried so hard to ignore. But you never dared to ask, afraid of what it might mean if the answer was yes.
And now, standing in front of him in the quiet after everything that had just happened, you realized just how deeply those old feelings still ran.
There were times, though, when your old crush resurfaced. 
Sometimes, it was the way he’d look at you across the battlefield, silently checking to see if you were okay, his eyes filled with a concern that was more than just professional. Other times, it was the rare, gentle touch when he’d help you after a fight—his hand brushing your arm or waist as he steadied you after a particularly tough encounter.
But you always pushed those feelings down, refusing to acknowledge them for the sake of professionalism. 
The sorcery world didn’t leave much room for distractions, and you knew that Nanami was as dedicated as ever. He was the picture of control, never letting emotions dictate his actions, always focused on the mission at hand. You convinced yourself that whatever crush you had on him was just remnants of your high school days, a fleeting fantasy that had no place in your current life.
His arms were crossed, his tie long loosened, and the top buttons of his shirt undone. The dim lighting of the hallway cast a shadow over his sharp features, making the intensity in his eyes even more pronounced. He looked every bit the composed man he always was, but something about the way his gaze followed your every movement made your heart stutter.
“Nanami…” His name left your lips in a quiet murmur, not expecting to see him there, not like this.
“You’re out late,” he observed, his voice steady but lower than usual, as if the stillness of the night demanded it.
You nodded, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. “Well, one of the first-years wanted some late-night training…What are you doing here?”
He didn’t answer right away, eyes flicking down to your lips before settling back on yours. 
You could feel the tension in the air, thick and palpable, making it hard to think clearly. His usual restraint seemed to falter, just slightly, but enough to make your pulse race.
“I was waiting for you.” His voice was steady, but the words made your breath hitch.
Your heart pounded in your chest. 
“Waiting for me?” You said quietly, a heat beginning to pool between your thighs.
Nanami pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer to you, his movements deliberate. The space between you closed as his tall figure made its way toward you—the tension that had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks finally came to a boil. 
“Why were you waiting for me..?” You questioned, “I need to talk,” He responded, his voice barely above a whisper.
He was close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, the faint scent of his cologne filling your senses.
“I used to try to talk so refined, in fear of you finding out…” He admitted, his voice lower now, almost rough around the edges. His eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. 
“Finding out what, Nanami.” You breathed, watching how his lips parted just slightly while he paused. “How I’ve been imagining you." 
The air between you was thick with tension, so heavy you could almost taste it. Nanami stood inches away, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. His normally professional demeanour had cracked, revealing something raw, something primal. The careful distance you both had maintained was no longer there.
"Imagining me…?" You repeated, your voice barely more than a whisper. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you were certain he could hear it.
Nanami’s eyes darkened, and his gaze roamed over you in a way that left your body practically squirming under his scrutiny. His jaw clenched for a moment as though fighting some internal battle, but when he spoke, his voice was low and hoarse, filled with a desire he was no longer trying to hide.
“Every time I look at you,” he confessed, his hands flexing at his sides, like he was resisting the urge to touch you, “I think about how you’d feel under my touch… under me.”
Your breath caught, your throat suddenly dry as his words sank in. The image of his hands on your skin, the weight of him pressing against you, the feeling of him between your legs—it sent a wave of heat through your body, leaving you borderline trembling with anticipation.
“Nanami…” you whispered his name, your voice trembling with the same desire that was now coursing through you. The distance between you felt unbearable.
The professionalism you both held onto so tightly was crumbling, and the temptation to give in was overwhelming.
The hallway was too quiet, too intimate, and it felt like the rest of the world had fallen away. It was just the two of you, standing there on the precipice of something dangerous and irresistible.
“I won’t deny I’ve got in my mind now all the things we’d do,” he confessed, his voice barely a whisper as his thumb traced your jawline, gently tilting your head with two fingers. His eyes darkened with want, and the weight of his words hung heavily in the air.
That was all it took. The pull between you snapped, and before you could think, your hands were fisting in his dark blue shirt, pulling him down to meet your lips in a kiss that was heated, desperate—inevitable.
His hand swiftly opened your door before pushing you into it, causing both of you to stumble into the dimly lit room. With a loud thud, Nanami kicked the door shut before pushing you back up against your entryway wall.
Nanami groaned softly into your mouth—your pussy practically throbbing at the sound—and his hands immediately wrapped around your waist, tugging you closer as if he couldn’t stand the idea of any space between you. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that you hadn’t expected, and it left you breathless.
You gasped when his hands gripped your hips firmly, pushing more firmly against the wall. The cool surface against your back was a stark contrast to the heat that radiated from him as he pressed himself closer, his lips never leaving yours.
His kisses were deliberate, slow—but rough—as if he wanted to savour every moment of this. 
"Mmf…Nanami," you breathed, pulling back just enough to look at him, your lips swollen from the kiss, breathless. "What are we doing?"
His forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged as he looked down at you. There was something raw, unguarded in his expression. “What I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”
Your heart fluttered at his words, and before you could say anything else, he was kissing you again, deeper this time. “Now be a good girl for me, y/n.” He practically purred against your lips, as he lifed you so your legs wrapped around his waist. 
His hands moved with more confidence now, sliding up your sides while you were pinned against the wall, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You tugged at his hair, your fingers desperate to feel more of him.
His hands, rough from battle and years of work, were surprisingly gentle as they slid beneath your shirt, fingers brushing over your painfully hard nipples, teasing you. You arched into him, your body responding to every touch.
He made quick work of your jacket—and that tiny tank top you wore underneath it, his hands roughly reaching for every bit of exposed skin.
Nanami growled softly with your legs wrapped around his waist, his lips trailed down the column of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that had you moaning his name.
"Do you want me to stop?" He asked, his breath hot against your neck, but the fire in his eyes told you stopping was the last thing he wanted to do.
"Don’t," you whispered—pleading with him for more, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. "Don’t stop."
Nanami’s eyes darkened further at your words, and a slow, subtle smirk spread across his lips. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. 
His hand moved up to the tie hanging loosely around his neck, fingers working quickly to loosen it even further. Before you could register what he was doing, he slid the tie off entirely, his movements deliberate and slow as he looped the fabric around your neck.
The silk felt cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your body. His eyes never left yours as he gently tugged at the tie, pulling you closer, the pressure on your throat light but enough to send a thrill through you that went straight to your now-soaked pussy.
“There,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over the side of your neck as he admired how the tie looked wrapped around you, it falling on your bare chest. In a moment, his lips were back on your skin, trailing lower this time as his free hand continued to explore your body. He kissed a path down to your chest, the tie around your neck tightening just slightly as he pulled you even closer.
He brought you to the couch in your small room with one hand while the other held the back of your head as his tongue explored your mouth.
“You look so beautiful like this, do you know that, y/n? With my tie around your pretty little neck…” He murmured against your skin, his voice laced with raw, unfiltered need. 
Hoisting you up onto the back of the couch, his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your skirt, fingers brushing against the wetness between your thighs, and the contact made you gasp. 
With one swift but gentle movement, Nanami slid your skirt and tights down your legs, and now you sat in front of him—completely vulnerable.
“Nanami—” Your words were cut off by a moan as his fingers returned, pressing more firmly, the slow, torturous circles he drew making your entire body tremble. The tie tightened just a fraction more as he leaned back to look at you, his thumb brushing against your clit in a way that had your heart racing even faster.
“You’re so responsive for me,” he growled softly, his fingers entering your dripping cunt slowly, making sure to feel every inch of your interior. “It’s driving me insane.”
You could barely breathe, the combination of his fingers between your legs and the light pressure of the tie around your neck leaving you a trembling mess in his arms. You clung to him, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as you fought to hold on, your body betraying you with every ragged breath and every desperate moan.
"Nanami, please..." You barely recognized your own voice, hoarse and breathless as you begged for him.
He smirked against your skin, clearly pleased by your reaction. “You want more, don’t you?” He asked, his voice thick with amusement, but the tension in his body told you he was just as desperate as you were.
You nodded, your head falling back as your body arched into his touch. “Please…”
The sound of your begging seemed to snap something in him. With one swift motion, he lifted you up with one arm and spun you around before setting you on your feet in front of him, your ass pressing up against his bulge as the cool leather from the couch pressed against your lower abdomen. 
He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as his fingers slipped inside you again, making you gasp loudly at the sudden (welcomed) intrusion. 
“I want to hear you beg for me again,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin as his fingers moved with agonizing slowness, teasing you, driving you to the brink of insanity. His other hand subtly undid his belt, lowering his pants just enough to expose his desperate cock.
You moaned, arching into his hand, your body betraying you as it responded to every touch, every whisper of his breath on your skin. “Nanami...hmmf…please...I-I need you in me.” You managed to get out between moans.
“That’s it,” he growled, his fingers exiting you, but they were quickly replaced by his dick as he inserted himself into you—feeling you stretch around him caused him to throw his head back in pleasure, and he gave a little yank on the tie, your head jerking backwards as your stomach pressed harder into the couch, provoking a pornographic moan to exit your lips.
“Fuck,” he growled, his breath hot against your skin as he buried himself inside you, again and again, each stroke thrusting deeper into your gummy walls, sending waves of pleasure through your body. “You feel so good.”
His pace quickened, and the slow, deliberate rhythm gave way to something more primal and desperate. His control was slipping, and you could feel it in every rough thrust, every growl that rumbled from his chest as he claimed you completely.
The tie tightened again, the silk digging into your skin just enough to heighten the pleasure, and the sensation sent you spiralling toward the edge. Your body trembled beneath him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you gasped for breath, the intensity of it all overwhelming.
He leaned forward, the new angle allowing him to go even deeper into you. He gently moved your hair off of your shoulder as his delicate fingers traced the border of his tie and your skin. “You really are such a good girl.”
His thumb pushed into clit as he thrusted into you at a dominating pace—the sensation was nearly enough to push you over the edge—but you held on a little longer. You cried out his name, your entire body shaking as his pace quickened, he tightened the feeling around your throat with the tie around your neck pulling you closer to him.
Nanami’s body moved behind you, the warmth of him pressing against your back as his hands gripped your hips. Bent over the back of your couch, with the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your flushed skin. “Mmhf–Nanami…Oh please.” You moaned out, practically begging him for more as he fucked you with a controlling pace
His breath was heavy, ragged, as he leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, making you feel the sheer size and strength of him as he dominated you completely.
Nanami’s fingers wrapped around his tie nicely wrapped around your neck, pulling it taut. The sensation made you gasp, your head tilting back slightly as the silk tightened around your throat just enough to send a jolt of pleasure through your already overstimulated body. Suddenly he took his soaked dick out of you letting it land on your ass, rubbing his hand over the smooth skin.
“You look just perfect like this,” he growled low in your ear, his voice thick with lust as he tugged the tie just a bit tighter, your chin tilting up as he whispered in your ear. “Bent over—begging for me.”
Your legs trembled beneath you, your body quivering with anticipation, but before you could respond, he was inside you again. 
The stretch was immediate, deep, and overwhelming as he thrust into you from behind, filling you completely with a single stroke. You cried out, your fingers gripping the edge of the desk as he pulled you back against him, the tie keeping you tethered, under his controlled.
“Nanami…” You moaned his name, your voice barely more than a breathless whisper as he began to move, his hips snapping against you in a relentless rhythm. Every thrust was harder than the last, his grip on the tie tightening with every movement, pulling you back into him, forcing you to feel every inch of him.
His pace was brutal, his control slipping entirely as he watched the way your body reacted to him, the way you moaned his name with every stroke. His free hand found your hip, gripping you so tightly that you were sure there’d be marks tomorrow, but the thought only sent another wave of arousal through you.
“You feel so good, y/n,” he growled, his voice rough as he leaned over you, his lips brushing against the back of your neck. “My good girl...”
His words are what sent you over the edge, the stimulation of your orgasm turning your vision white. 
Your body was on fire, every nerve alive with pleasure as he drove into you again and again. The tie around your neck tightened even more, the pressure just enough to leave you lightheaded, completely at his mercy. You felt every inch of him inside you, the sound of skin against skin filling the room, along with your breathless moans as pleasure washed over you.
Nanami's body pressed closer as you shuddered beneath him, the waves of your orgasm still coursing through you. 
But he didn’t stop. 
Even as your body trembled, oversensitive and breathless, he kept thrusting into you with the same relentless intensity. His pace didn’t falter, and each stroke seemed deeper, more demanding, as if he couldn't get enough of the way you clenched around him.
Your moans turned to gasps as pleasure mixed with the overwhelming sensation of him continuing to push you past your limit. Your fingers clutched at his back, nails digging into his skin with a painful force, but he didn't slow down. He leaned over you, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and ragged.
“Look at you, taking it so well," he groaned, his voice dark and full of praise. "You feel so good, I don’t want to stop.”
Your legs shook around him, your body still pulsating from your release, and the overstimulation had you crying out, your nails leaving marks along his back. 
"Nanami... please..." you gasped, unsure if you were begging him to stop or to keep going. You felt like you were being consumed, every nerve on fire, and yet your body responded to his touch, desperate for more.
He shifted slightly, angling his hips to hit that perfect spot inside you with every thrust, his hand still pressed firmly against your clit drawing rough circles. The tie around your neck tightened just a bit more, enough to remind you of the control he had, the control you were willingly giving him.
“I’m not done with you yet," he growled, his thrusts growing rougher, faster, his body taking full control over yours. "You can come again for me, can’t you?"
You didn’t know how it was possible, but the overwhelming pleasure began to build again inside you. His touch on your clit was insistent, his hips snapping against yours in a rhythm that left you breathless, teetering on the edge of something even more intense than before.
Your body trembled beneath him, the overstimulation and pleasure merging into something maddening. Every nerve was alight, your body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control. You were already too sensitive, your mind spinning as he pushed you closer and closer to the brink once again.
Nanami could feel it—he knew exactly how close you were, how your body tensed around him. His lips brushed your ear as he spoke, his voice low and commanding. “Come for me again, y/n. I want to feel you fall apart around me baby.”
With that, his fingers pressed harder against your clit, and his hips slammed into you at a brutal pace, each thrust sending you spiraling further out of control. The pressure inside you coiled impossibly tight, and with a cry of his name, you shattered once more, the intensity of your second orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.
Your body shook uncontrollably, your moans turning to sobs of pleasure as you convulsed around him. The sensation was too much, too overwhelming, and yet you never wanted it to end. Nanami’s name fell from your lips like a prayer as he continued thrusting into you, his own breathing growing more ragged, more desperate.
"That's it," he growled, his voice thick with pleasure as he watched you unravel beneath him, his pace rapidly increasing. "So fucking beautiful."
He wasn’t far behind. The way your walls clenched around him, the way you shook with each thrust, sent him over the edge. 
His pace grew erratic, his grip on your waist tightening as he buried himself deep inside you one last time, groaning your name as he came. He tugged at the tie harshly, yanking you up form your bent over position so yoru back was against his sweaty chest, his hand gently holding your chin up. 
“You were so good for me,” he breathed, his voice hoarse, igniting a spark in you again. You remained silent for a few moments, breath staggered as you tried to catch it, still shaking with pleasure as he held you upright in front of him. 
Finally, you opened your mouth to speak, a cheeky smile playing on your lips, “I like your tie…”
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tsukii0002 · 12 hours
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Imagine the contrast of the coexistence between Mc and Solomon, a human who did not know that magic was real until relatively recently and another human who has lived for centuries and who uses magic as if it were breathing.
Imagine that little things at home where Solomon is always willing to use magic to solve it, while Mc always beats him to it in the most common and least magical way possible.
But above all imagine, Solomon's frustration, how can his magic be rendered useless in such a way? And if he has no magic, what can he bring to that home?
Solomon: Remember that blanket I told you had a hole in it, I think it's time to mend it *opening one of his books*
Mc: I've already mended it, with a few stitches it's as good as new.
Solomon: Oh…
Solomon: Mc, what was the table that was broken?
Mc: Oh, don't worry, I fixed it.
Solomon: Really? What spell did you use?
Mc: Ha, ha, Solomon, you don't need magic to wedge a table.
Solomon: Mc!! With this spell we will solve our rat problem!
Mc: *smiling* I've already taken care of that, no for nothing Barbatos is so happy with me.
Solomon: That's how you earn your premium tea leaves?
Solomon: Please tell me you didn't fix the shelf that was sagging *with a book under his arm*
Mc: *eating a muffin* Oops.
Solomon: Mc, I told you I'd fix it *pointing at the. with the book*
Mc: Solomon, it was tightening two screws, it's going to take you longer to look up such a mundane spell than to fix it manually.
.
Solomon: Mc… you're a sorceress, you should use magic more!
Mc: *funny* And you should use magic less!!! You're still a human, old man. By the way, remember those yellow spots on the tablecloth that bothered you so much?
Solomon: Yeah?
Mc: Well, I've already made them disappear and without magic.
Solomon: How????
Solomon is sitting, somewhat annoyed, on one of the balconies
Mc: Hey…
Solomon: …
Mc: Are you upset?
Solomon: … No.
Mc: *sighing as they stands next to him* Let's talk, tell me, why does it bother you so much that I solve things without magic?
Solomon: I'm not upset, we don't need to talk at all.
Mc: You know that communication is part of living together right? We are two people with different ways of living, if we don't talk how are we going to have a good cohabitation?
Solomon: … With the brothers you never had that problem.
Mc: Sure I have, maybe not with these things because Lucifer encourages certain stuff to be done manually, but we had to set a lot of guidelines when I started living with them.
Solomon: ...
Solomon: *sighing* I'm not upset… it's just that I'm used to doing everything with magic, even the smallest things, it's easier, faster.
Mc: Well, sometimes yes, but sometimes it's easier to do it without magic, and in my case I'm used to not use magic.
Solomon: *looking at them* I know, but there are things I can't do without magic.
Mc: But that's what I'm for, isn't it?
Solomon: *doubting* Then' what do I bring to our cohabitation?
Mc: *realizing*
Solomon: You cook, you do a lot of chores because you are faster, and you take care of a lot of things that allow you to have a routine… I feel that instead of living together, I am a guest...
Mc: Solomon...
Solomon: And if I can't even use my magic, Am I useless? without my magic I…
The two are silent for a moment
Mc: I'm sorry, I've minimized how you feel… and I've done things my way without taking you into account.
Solomon: Ha, ha, don't worry, *now kind of sad* It's not that big of a deal.
Mc: No, I told you, communication is part of living together and you should tell me what bothers you.
Solomon: *looking at them*
Mc: We can try to find a middle ground.
Solomon: How?
Mc: *thoughtful* Well, the day to day things we can do manually and the things that are very difficult or tedious we can use magic?
Solomon: *considering it seriously'* You could also teach me how to do tasks without magic, like how to wedge a table… and I could teach you spells that I usually use, like the one that sweeps the house by itself.
Mc: *smiling* We can also make a schedule so we don't step on each other's to-dos.
Solomon: *smiling too* And create a chat room exclusively for house stuff where we can let each other know if we're going to do something.
Mc: That sounds like a great idea Solomon.
Solomon: *more lively* And I'd also like to do certain chores together, like laundry or cooking.
Mc: … *feeling bad at Solomon's happy face* Yes… we can do that too.
.
.
This turned out to be longer than I thought, and what started as something funny has turned into a drama😅. I'm not going to lie to you, I love domestic dramas, day to day problems… so this post has turned into that because Solomon is used to live in a very different way than Mc, and living together for the first time is always complicated and habits are hard to change, and co-living is not always so great. Give me domestic situations between Mc and the rest of the cast please!!!! 🥺🥺
Anyway, if you've made it this far, thank you very much for reading🩷
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kaahgyuya · 3 days
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You and me
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, kinich x gn!reader
♡ . . . kinich fluff h/c's cuz there's js smut and stuff so I've had enough!!!
SYNOPSIS : : kinich has a crush on you!!
WARNINGS/NOTES : : he might be a lil ooc..
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Kinich, who has a crush on you, but doesn't say it aloud. He makes subtle hints, but otherwise he hides it. (Really well actually...)
Kinich, who likes to watch you from afar. Not like stalking, but he just likes admiring you. He has a gentle gaze whenever he looks at you hanging out w/ somebody or just alone.
Kinich, who gets bullied by ajaw because he can't admit his crush/accept his feelings for you.
"Just say it! You'll never grow the balls to say it to them if you just hide your feelings forever!... heh, not that you even had balls in the first place—"
"Shut it."
Kinich, who finishes his commissions in a flash before running to your usual place to greet you. If you ever ask him, "don't you have work to do?" He'll just say "I'm off for the day."
Kinich, who hides his flustered face/smile whenever you say or do something he might find insanely adorable about you.
Whenever you eat, he thinks of you like a hamster or a squirrel eating food.
"Hm? What's wrong, Kinich?"
"... Nothing."
Kinich, who lets you lean on him whenever you're tired. He doesn't mind at all, and sometimes he brushes some hair out of your face. Or maybe sometimes does your hair like how kachina does mualani's on occasions.
"Since when did my hair look like this?"
"Ajaw did it."
"What?! This son of a bean did it— not me!! Wait, you're seriously going to believe this guy!?"
Kinich, whenever you're hurt in battle, he priorities you first. Sometimes his hands linger on your wounds, gently caressing them and looking at you making sure you're not in any pain or stress.
Kinich, who likes comparing his hand to yours. He likes to bring your hand to his heart as if to make sure you can feel his heart beating like crazy.
Kinich, who sometimes takes his headband off and covers your eyes with it to tease you. Sometimes if you're being noisy or maybe yapping too much, he does that.
"So— hey, why'd you do that?!"
"Pfft, stop being so noisy."
Kinich, who genuinely likes to smile or laugh with you. You bring out his true nature, which makes ajaw and the others a little surprised.
You, who drives kinich crazy sometimes. He's so head over heels sometimes he tries to be in denial about it. Sometimes you make him blush a little too hard, or sometimes his makes his ears go so red.
Kinich, who's sometimes very straightforward with answers.
"Kinich, do you have a crush anyone?"
"I do, on you."
"Huh?"
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a small drabble, I have been freed from my scaranation chains and now in my kinich phase. Kinda silly and it's been awhile since my last post so sorry!! 😓
@kaahgyuya . 9/22/24 . 2:18 am
@ copying is not allowed in kaahgyuya area!!!
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glorious-spoon · 1 day
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the moon don't hang quite as high [9-1-1 | Buddie | 1/1]
12k words | explicit buck/tommy break-up | feelings realization | first kiss | first time | emotional hurt/comfort | background eddie/ocs | open ending
After Bobby and Chris leave, Buck breaks up with his boyfriend, tries not to punch his new boss, and worries about Eddie.
the moon don't hang quite as high [On AO3]
Buck and Tommy break up three and a half weeks after Chris leaves for Texas, which is a correlation that he could probably read into if he felt like it.
Correlation, not causation. He took a statistics class once upon a time during his ill-fated attempt at college. Failed it, but a few things did stick. Correlation is not causation. Winning streaks aren't real, and neither are losing streaks. It's all just a glitch of the human brain, finding patterns where there are none. Eddie, dedicated skeptic that he is, would definitely tell him that in the same fondly condescending tone he uses to explain to Buck that jinxes and hexes and the wrath of the gods aren't real, seriously, cursed bracelets and q-word shifts from hell notwithstanding.
He wonders sometimes if Eddie has changed his tune on that now, but he's definitely not going to ask him. There's a Christopher-shaped hole in their conversations these days, and the edges are still sharp. And Buck doesn't want to know if this has finally made Eddie come around to the idea that maybe he's cursed.
Three and a half weeks without Chris. Three weeks of Eddie's increasingly tight-lipped, stiff-shouldered responses to Gerrard's unsubtle jabs. Buck hates watching it. Hates it. Bad enough that Eddie is hollow-eyed and distracted when he's off-shift, glancing at empty corners and open doors like he's expecting Chris to walk in at any minute, but now even work isn't a respite. Buck does what he can to draw the heat, though he's not sure it's actually helping. And then today: Gerrard came across the two of them laughing at a stupid meme on Buck's phone and made a snide remark about fairies flocking together that made the too-rare smile on Eddie's face wither into the same icy stoicism he uses for the cracks about taco trucks and deadbeat dads.
Buck almost spun around and decked Gerrard right on the spot. Might have actually done it, had the bell not gone off when it did.
So it was a good thing that they spent the next four hours hauling hoses at a warehouse fire in East L.A. today, with Gerrard too occupied to needle any of them. No casualties, so he doesn't even have to feel bad for thinking that.
Continue reading on AO3
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writingescapades · 24 hours
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Falls First, Falls Harder
Multiple characters: Rafayel x reader, Pinocchio x reader, Aventurine x reader
Rafayel:
Of course he fell first. You saved him. You befriended him. You encouraged him. You supported him. You bestowed your heart in his hands with a smile on your face. And you betrayed him. His love haunts him, for only he recalls these memories. And yet! And yet, he finds himself unable to detach from you. An urge beyond a mere bond. Your relation in the modern day, a palimpsest of new experiences atop old emotions. It’s new and old, scary and nostalgic. He doesn’t know if this path will end the same as every other path. He is a god. His every act demands a grand sacrifice, even from himself. And yet, he chooses to fall.
You fell harder. Who was this strange, charming, enticing man? Initially a job turned into best friend. You couldn’t imagine being in a position where you find yourself reaching out to someone you barely know but fully trust. Rafayel was surprisingly fun. Always keeping you looped and eagerly seeking for you to entwine back. Touchy. Deep, and very caring. His loyalty astounds you when surrounded by the lights and smiles of admirers. No matter how high to the gods his talents take him, he always seems to look down only upon you. It’s a different sensation, yet very familiar. Too familiar as your dreams are too eager to play on familiar faces and memories. You really don’t know where life with Rafayel will take you, but you’re slowly finding it impossible to imagine it without him.
Pinocchio:
You fell first. How could you not? A sweet, quiet, gentleman-puppet with a mischievous streak. In the wreak of Krat, this sole life drew you in. Pinocchio shone for he remained every enchanted, ever curious with the world, no matter how decayed it was. It was addicting. He taught you to experience life anew. You couldn’t help the resurgence of feelings you thought died with Krat. But you held back. He was a puppet, brand new to life. You could not possibly foist such emotions onto someone so, young – emotionally. Instead you savoured the friendship, and bitterly swallowed back your feelings, hoping they would go away one day. But they wouldn’t. So you fell harder.
Pinocchio is new to emotions, yes, but he isn’t a fool to himself. He may not be able to express himself as articulately as he imagines or desires, but he understands what he feels. The more he grew, the more he discovered. And so, to him, it made perfect sense to read a book and instantly connect the couple to him and you. And it made perfect sense to show you the book, point to the couple, and then move his finger back and forth indicating the two of you. He didn’t understand your frown and shake of your head. He didn’t understand your words or disagreement. Yes, you are friends. Yes, very close friends. But to Pinocchio, you are also what this couple was. Why else would he scrounge around for odd bits for you after a battle? Why else does he go to you first when he comes home covered in oil, mechanical hand in bad need of repair? What did it mean to you to be this couple? Yes, he would like to hold you. Yes, he does seek you out. Would you let him in?
Aventurine / Kakavasha
You fell first, but it took a long time. Aventurine would not show you any side of him beyond his persona of the gambling manipulator, and you could care less. For the longest time, he was just that guy you sometimes worked with. You worked surprisingly well together. Mostly because you let him plan everything out, putting in a voice when you knew your idea would work. It surprised you that he seriously considered your inputs. It surprised everyone else too, which was why you were unofficially Aventurine’s work partner. People really learn about one another when they’re exhausted, and their lives are on the line. Aventurine slipped his mask a little, but it was enough to see that there was more to him. You didn’t call attention to it, but quietly responded. If he noticed, he didn’t draw back. It was really the small things like holding his cup while he played, making sure no one slipped anything into his drink. Or carrying him to bed when he fell asleep at his desk again. You were just being a good person, until that moment. He was gambling, again, and you saw it. It was almost imperceptible, but after working alongside him, you knew when something was off. The stakes were high, and his hand started to tremble. You found yourself holding onto his hand. In shock, he let the dice go as he turned towards you. He won the game but attained a better reward. You.
Aventurine doesn’t pride himself on how long it took for him to let you in. He exaggerates kind acts because his life seemed to abstain from it, but he knows to be wary. That every open hand conceals a dagger. Which was why your nonchalance surprised him. You didn’t fawn over him, nor did you detest him. He was his himself around you, and he couldn’t bear that. But you were useful, and so easy to be around. So he pushed you and tested you, but it seemed that he was the only one who tired out. Aventurine cracked and Kakavasha peeked out. He expected a complete rejection, but you, you held his hand, and he has yet to let go.
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minus-plus-zer0 · 3 days
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Jealousy
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♡ Genre: Hurt/comfort, very fluff ending ♡ Pairing: Pro Hero!Bakugou x Reader ♡ Tags: Aged up, established relationships, dating (Jealousy on both sides, it's all unfounded so don't worry! You two are loyal like dogs to each other)
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Bakugou was the jealous type.
Everybody in the entire country knew that. There was nothing Bakugou hated more than imagining you leaving him for somebody else. You wanted to tease him about it sometimes, but his jealousy made him so distressed that you ended up comforting him instead.
Currently, Bakugou was still seething at the man who last flirted with you. The guy disappeared into the street's crowd under Bakugou's contemptuous gaze. His anger could only be distracted by you and your words.
"It's okay, Katsuki," you said, while hugging him. "I only love you. I didn't even flirt back, you know?"
"...I know," Bakugou said. He kissed you on the lips, somewhat possessively. When he opened his eyes again, he looked so sad. "One of these days I wonder if you're gonna find somebody better than me."
"Katsuki!" You glared at him. "I could never find someone better than you! You are the sweetest, most loyal guy I've ever met! Even if you do have a temper." You giggled, poking his forehead.
"Dummy." Bakugou rested his forehead against yours, his arm close around your waist. "Sorry. Shouldn't have gotten jealous."
"No, it's okay! Always tell me when you're jealous, always!"
That's how most of Bakugou's jealousy fits went. Over time, Bakugou became less and less easily aggravated, but he still had his possessive moments. But no matter what, he'd never take his anger out on you or try to control you out of fear.
Meanwhile, you rarely got jealous of Bakugou, mainly because you weren't the type but also because there wasn't much to be jealous of. Bakugou made it crystal clear to everyone what he did and didn't like, and you were one of the few things included on the "like" list. In fact, you were the only person ever included on the "love" list.
But despite Bakugou's poor reputation with the public, he still occasionally found fans who fawned over him. These fans sometimes made you uncomfortable.
One day, you two were out in public together in a quiet side path of the town, walking between various shops. Coincidentally, you caught some of his fawning fans exiting a store. Bakugou paid them no attention but you couldn't take your eyes off of the potential "predators" on your relationship. The fans soon passed but not without some loud screeching and several pictures taken without Bakugou's permission. Initially it irritated Bakugou, but you noticed by the end of it he was paying more attention to you.
"Are you jealous?" he asked, seriously. You two walked in the opposite direction of the fans, their voices getting less loud with more distance.
"Of course not..." you lied. "They're just random fans, it doesn't matter."
You didn't want him to tease you for this. This was one of the few times you had to deal with jealousy, and it took you off guard. It was irrational too, and you knew it. Still, you didn't always like being actively reminded that Bakugou could be wanted by others.
Bakugou wasn't having this. He stopped you in the middle of the side path you walked down, his expression focused.
"Don't be jealous, alright?" he said. You opened your mouth to speak, but he interrupted. "And don't deny that you are jealous! I've been jealous of you tons of times, so I can recognize that shit anywhere. But it's just your mind playing tricks on you. You're still the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I only go for the best, ya hear me?" He started beaming at you, and you could tell he really meant it. "I'd rather throw myself off a cliff than go back on my promises to you."
That did warm your heart. He caught your lips turning up and his hand brushed against your cheek, but you still shied away from him.
"I just don't get why you chose me," you said. "You've got so many fans. Sometimes I wonder if there are better options for you out there..."
"I fucking doubt it. I have the best judgment and the best taste, so if I chose you, that fucking means something. It means you're as great as me... or better. Now don't go saying that negative stuff about my girlfriend. Or else."
"O-okay! Alright!"
You didn't know what the heck he could be threatening you with, but you didn't want to find out. Regardless, he still looked after you and made sure nothing the fans did ever bothered you. He would never tease you for your jealousy, because he personally knew how much it hurt. You were one of the few people he could trust, and because of that you two were dead loyal to each other no matter the odds.
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Note
Hi! Could you talk more about "character development exercises", please?:]
Character Development Exercises
Character development exercises are writing exercises you can do to help you explore and develop your characters. This isn't a required part of writing or character development, but many writers find it helpful. Here are some that I like to do when I'm struggling to get to know a character:
Character Interview - imagine that you’ve pulled your character out of a story into the room and now have the opportunity to interview them. What questions would you ask them? What do you want to know about them that you don’t already know? What do you think the reader would want to know? What might be pertinent to the story that you haven’t thought about yet?
TV Crew follow around - Imagine you’ve dropped an invisible TV crew into your story’s world to follow your character around through an average day (even if it's anachronistic). Follow them from the moment they wake up until the moment they go to bed that night. What are they like when they wake up? What is their morning routine? What do they eat for breakfast? How do they get ready? What do they do throughout the day? Who do they interact with? What else do they eat and drink? What do they do for fun or relaxation? How to they make money or meet their basic needs? What is their bedtime routine like?
Letters or Journal Entries - Look at your character's back story, off-screen events, etc. and find something for your character to write about in a journal entry or a letter to another character. What would they say about this event? How does it make them feel? What do they think about it?
Use Your Character in a Writing Prompt - Look at some writing prompts and do one using your character as the main character. You can keep it within your story's world or plop them into a whole different world. Whatever works for you and your story. This is about getting to know this character in a different context than the events of your story provides.
Create a Character Mood Board/Aesthetic - Mood boards go a long way in mentally fleshing out a character for me. Being able to have a visual representation of their style, their vibe, things that are important to them, etc. really turns them into real people in my mind.
Create a Playlist for Your Character - I think playlists can also be a really great way to mentally flesh out a character in your mind. Sometimes, just having a particular song or a playlist of songs that makes you think of them gives them some dimension they wouldn't otherwise have.
Happy writing!
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!
♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here
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lleeanarr · 7 hours
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pt 2.
summary: The relationship was unexpected not only from the fans, but it was unexpected to the both of them as well.
genre: fluff, smau
paring: Lando Norris x Influencer!reader
warnings! : swearing, attempted humour
fc: Lani Pliopa
a/n: part two! sorry for the long wait😞😞
prev | next
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landonorris : hello??
-
landonorris : …
landonorris : its been a day🙃
-
landonorris : answer me?
landonorris : pls?😔
-
landonorris : day 65 of asking you to answer me🫠
landonorris : ANSWERRRRRR‼️‼️
catsuperior111 : what in the desperate male😨😨
landonorris : im not desperate.
catsuperior111 : u sure????
catsuperior111 : looks and sound very desperate to me🤷‍♀️
landonorris : 🙂
catsuperior111 : its okk everyone just wants to slide into my dms😌✨
landonorris : weren’t you the one sliding into mine🤨
catsuperior111 : I-
catsuperior111 : me is 🤏 close to blocking tu😃😃
landonorris : NO
landonorris : and why the fuck did it take you a whole week to answer me🤨🤨
catsuperior111 : uhhh
catsuperior111 : my phone was dead..??
landonorris : bullshit who can survive a week without a phone
landonorris : and you suck at lying.
catsuperior111 : BOO TOMATO TOMATO📣📢‼️
catsuperior111 : THIS IS SLANDER😠😠
landonorris : no slander
landonorris : just the truth🤷
landonorris : now answer my question why did it take you so long?
catsuperior111 : i was too lazy😔✊
landonorris : THAT WAS THE REASON?!!!
catsuperior111 : yes.
catsuperior111 : you were too boring for me to reply to🤷‍♀️
landonorris : bullshit
landonorris : i know deep inside you enjoy my attention😍✨
catsuperior111 : WHO in their RIGHT mind would ever enjoy your attention😨😨😨
landonorris : rude.
landonorris : and fyi MANY would😒
catsuperior111 : mhmm sure keep lying to yourself
catsuperior111 : sometimes being delulu is the solution😍🙏🙏
landonorris : man fuck you.
landonorris : did you even check who you messaged😭😭
catsuperior111 : in all honesty no☺️
landonorris : SO YOU JUST HAPPENED TO DM ME FROM CURIOSITY?!
catsuperior111 : OMG I DIDNT KNOW YOU HAD THAT IN YOU TO FIGURE IT OUT😨😨‼️‼️
landonorris : WOMAN YOU ARE SOMETHING😭😭
reacted with : 😮‍💨
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yourusername
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liked by alexandrasaintmleux, bsfuser and 23,689 others
yourusername small dump📷🍪
view all comments
bsfuser THE CATSSSS😍😍😍
yourusername I KNOW RIGHT?!!!!
yourusername I WAS LITERALLY SHRIEKING WHEN I WALKED DOWN THE STREETS AND SAW THEM🥹🥹🥹
bsfuser LITERALLY THE CUTEST🥹🤏
alexandrasaintmleux 😍😍
liked by author
user17 y/n and her constant post on her lego builds
user35 l literally love her aesthetic😩🤌🤌
user31 she’s literally GLOWING📢📣📣‼️‼️
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
catsuperior111 : do you seriously not post anything??
landonorris : why do you care if i post something or not🤨🤨
landonorris : and who are you to question i post something or not when you have ZERO POST
catsuperior111 : WDYM😠😠
catsuperior111 : i post stuff on my main😒
landonorris : THIS WAS A BURNER ACCOUNT!!
catsuperior111 : yes?
catsuperior111 : did you really think i was going to talk to you using my main🤨
landonorris : most people do
landonorris : yes
catsuperior111 : well i have a burner account for research purposes😍😍🤌🤌
landonorris : WOW
landonorris : no wonder you asked a weird ass question😭😭
catsuperior111 : BINGO✨
catsuperior111 : my main is @yourusername
catsuperior111 : im tired of switching accounts back and forth😪✋
landonorris : lazy ass
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yourusername posted a story!
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caption: me and my gang😍🤌🤌✨
view replies!
landonorris why did it take me a while to spot you💀
landonorris you blend in
yourusername YOU THINK I LOOK LIKE A CAT🥹
yourusername Im honoured🫶🥹
yoursister How did you manage to take that with my cats😨😨
yourusername they just love me😩😩✨
bsfuser the cat obsession is getting crazier...
yourusername 🤫
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
yourusername : oi
yourusername : i accidently bought two tickets to the eras tour😞😞
yourusername : no wonder they were so expensive!
yourusername : can you come with?
landonorris : do younot have any friends?
yourusername : i do...
yourusername : they ditch moi for they're boyfriends
yourusername : def didn't stand up to bros before hos😕🙄
landonorris : when?
yourusername : OMG UR ACTUALLY WILLING TO GO????!!!
landonorris : its charity work😥
yourusername : ....
yourusername : fuck you
landonorris : also who is stupid enough to decline an eras tour concert ticket WHICH WAS PAID FOR☺️☺️
yourusername : having you as company better be fucking worth it
landonorris : dw it will😗
landonorris : if ur being serious about me going when?
yourusername: 18th of october
landonorris : where?
yourusername : miamiiiii
landonorris : wtf you expect me to fly to miami for you???
yourusername : yes
landonorris : ur paying for my flight ticket
yourusername : WHATTTTT????
yourusername : i am too BROKE for that😔
yourusername : i paid for ur concert ticket...
yourusername : at least pay for the flight
yourusername : give some justice to my bank account☹️🤚
landonorris : fine
landonorris : the things i do to see taylor swift😞😞
yourusername : wow what about meeeee
landonorris : thanks for the ticket🙂
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a/n: i'm literally so sorry for taking so long to release the second part i will be posting more frequent hopefully...😓
taglist: @iamahallucinationnn , @hurtblossom , @papaya-twinks , @kami10471633 , @ahnneyong
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luveline · 1 day
Note
pleaseee anything angsty with bombshell!reader and spencer!! love you
love you!
When Jason Gideon dies, it’s alone with his murderer. Isolated from friends and family, years after you last heard from him. Spencer hasn’t spoken to him since he left, and yet the ruin on his face when it’s confirmed to be Gideon churns your stomach. 
He rushes out of the room. 
You look at Gideon, dead, and regret that you never got along. You barely knew him. So when Derek leaves to follow Spencer out, you don’t go with them, thinking Derek has better common ground. 
“You okay?” you ask Hotch quietly. 
He nods, solemn. “Do you want to go check on Reid?” he asks, equally hushed. 
“I think Morgan has it for now.” You turn away from Gideon. You don’t want to see him dead, it’s too scary when it’s someone you know. It reminds you that it could’ve been you, or Spencer. 
You don’t find time to speak to your poor bookworm until later that night when you’ve been forced to retire in dinky motel rooms. You and Spencer used to share because you were the only person normal enough not to complain when he infodumps, and because you were fond of him. Then because you were best friends, and now because you’re in love. How lucky you’ve been. 
He’s always had it rough, though. 
You’d asked him multiple times throughout the day if he was okay, and every now and then he’d nodded or sniffled, but now he’s alone with you his facade fades completely, and you want to have a real talk. 
His shoulders rock. You reach out for him. He breaks for the bathroom. 
“Spencer?” you ask, startled. 
The door shuts hard between you, frame shaking.
“Spencer, are you okay?” 
You cross the brown carpeting to grab the handle. You pause there, heart dropping as the weak sound of muffled sobbing reaches your ears. “Spencer,” you say, soft, and without any teasing. You’re capable of seriousness sometimes. “Sweetheart, are you okay?” 
“Can I be alone?” he asks.
He sounds strained. 
“I’d rather you weren’t. I don’t know what you’ll do.” 
“What?” he asks. 
“People do strange things when they’re upset. I just want to be with you, that’s all.” 
“I’m fine,” he says shortly. 
You’d be offended, but like you said. People do strange things when they’re upset, and this is worse than just being upset. This is grief. Intangible, cruel. Spencer has a history of doing things that aren’t good for him when he’s hurting. You’ve no interest in leaving him alone. 
“Spencer… I love you. I want to be near you.”
Your straight-forwardness pays off. 
“Okay,” he says. “It’s not locked.” 
That’s reassuring. You open the door, find him standing at the sink with his cheeks wet with thick tears. He crumples when he sees you, hiding his face in his hands. 
You’re not sure what to do. Loving someone, you tend to love all of them, and you’ve yet to find parts of Spencer you couldn’t adore, but he just lost somebody important to him and you have no idea how to handle it. You decide to try, whether jumping into it will do any good or not. You walk right into his chest and hug him. 
“Sorry,” you murmur, “I love you. I’m so sorry.” 
“It’s okay.” He takes a shaky, odd breath, like he might laugh. He tries to as he holds your shoulders. “God, it’s okay, don’t be sorry.” 
“I am. It’s not fair. I never want you to lose anyone.” 
He presses his lips into a hard line and nods, prompting tears down his cheeks one after the other. “It’s okay.” 
It’s not okay. Spencer cries and you watch him, his hands weak on your shoulders. His hair is greasy at the roots from all the heat of being upset, his face pink, his eyes swollen and sore. His lashes are sticking together in dark triangles, while his sclera turns bloodshot. It’s clear that today has been extremely hard on him, and you should’ve done more. “I should’ve come after you, I’m sorry. I thought Morgan would have a better chance at making you feel better.” You wipe his cheeks, and tuck lank hair behind his ears. “I need you to know I’m here for you.” 
He’s putting on a brave face, slowly but surely. “I know that.” 
“Listen, do you want to shower?” you ask. 
“I want to sit down forever.” 
“We’ll shower first. I’ll come in with you, alright? We can wash your hair, the warm water will be good for your eyes.” You frown sympathetically. “You’ve cried all day.” 
“I can’t believe he’s gone. I wish I’d tried harder to see him. To talk to him again.” 
“You can… I know it’s not the same, but you can tell me. Anything you wanted to say to him, I’ll listen. You can tell me everything.” 
He nods again. More brave face, more unnerving, fake smile. 
You run your hands down his hair, and use your hands to tilt his head forward gently. “You can be alone if you really want to, but I just can’t have that closed door. You understand?” 
“No, I want to shower with you.” He sniffs. “Sorry if I scared you.” 
“It’s not scary.” You curl your arm behind his neck to pull him in for a careful hug. You hold him without moving, relieved when he holds you back, though his hands are limp where they’d usually be rubbing at your shoulders. “It wasn’t scary, I mean. I didn’t mean to suggest you’d do something, but I think the last thing you should be right now is alone. Thanks for letting me stay.” 
He breathes in your neck. “This is nice.” 
You bend back to encourage him further into your arms. “You’re doing so well,” you murmur, rubbing his back in a slow stroke, “you can get through this. We’ll do right by him, I promise. You’re not alone.” 
“I used to feel it. He was the first person who… really looked out for me, before he left.” Spencer sniffles, glassy eyes softening where he looks down at you. “Nobody’s ever stayed with me. No one.” 
“Well, I’m not going anywhere.” 
He sniffles again. “I know… Will you still shower with me?” 
“Mm-hm. Wash your hair for you, if you want me to.” 
“Please.” 
“Costs a kiss,” you say softly. 
“You want one from me right now?” he asks. He’s joking, because he knows you always want one. 
Your spirits finally begin to recuperate. “Plant one on me, handsome… only if you want to.” 
He turns away from you to wipe his face, both of you laughing, him wetly, you in relief. Both with a little bit of guilt. Maybe because life goes on without the people who pass, and that will always feel wrong. 
He turns back to you. Sadness darkens his eyes, but he closes them and leans down tentatively to kiss you. 
You take his soft one, borrow a firmer one, and wrap him up in another hug. Love you, love you, love you, you think. You’re going to make sure that he’s okay. 
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petersnya · 2 days
Note
u should do the nsfw alphabet thing with Anakin 👀 👀 👀
Anakin Skywalker NSFW alphabet pt. 1
A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)
With aftercare Ani is very gentle and tender with you. Like as soon as the both of you come down his gently kissing all over your face as he pulls out of you slowly; caressing your face and telling you how much he loves you and how good you are to him and how you make him feel. He cleans you up and after he makes sure you’re okay (cause that mane can get pretty fuckin carried away with you that’s just how much he can’t control himself when he’s with you). He loves to hold you and lay his head on your bare chest while his arms hold you. Sometimes he’ll fall asleep or he’ll talk to you. This is one of his most valuable times.
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner's)
I feel like his loves your tits and so such in them or kiss them gently. When you two are making out “innocently” he’s sneak his hand up your body and grip and grope at them softly but it’s soon gets rougher.
Even though he loves to play with your tits, he loves just as equally to grope your ass and kneed it while he kisses you and your body. He also loves your legs. When he puts one or both over his shoulders he’ll kiss them tenderly; but even when you two aren’t having sex, he’ll just rub your thighs or your legs and caress them with his finger tips.
I slick think he likes to pinch your cheeks too.
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically... I'm a disgusting person)
Ok so I’ve already talked about the taste of it so I’m gonna talk about the place of it. He loves to cum on your ass the most, but when he’s being very… lewd is your tongue. He’ll jerk off while his tip is resting on your tongue as he pumps out load after load.
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Anis dirty little secret is that he has a love hate relationship with sneaking around because of the Jedi council and the order, but he more so loves it. Being sneaky and touching you with the force while you are in meetings for senator/princess/Jedi business. He can be across the room from you, staring as he moves his two fingers in a “come here” motion with a dirty smirk on his face; through the force he’s pumping his fingers in and out of you slowly. Anakin enjoys pulling you behind walls and doors and pillars in the temple to kiss you softly/roughly before pulling back and walking away. He love the thought that you have to act as if nothing happened and that you have to come up with lies because you are not supposed to be together.
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)
He’s a tad bit experienced but not really because of the restrictions of the Jedi, but when he’s with you and you two are having sex or doing other things he seems much more experienced to you. I think the only reason why he seems so much more experienced than he really is is because he gets so carried away with you. He just starts doing whatever he feels. 
F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)
His fav position is missionary cause I feel like he’s a very simple man. He loves to rock his hips into you slowly and getting rougher with each thrust while he is either: a. Propping himself up on his forearm on one and hand either the other holding neck as his lips press to your ear so you can hear every grunt and moan or even whimper — b. Hugging your body as close as possible with his with one hand on your ass pushing it to hit the deepest part of you.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
Anakin is naturally a very serious person and very emotional. He can be goofy in the right moments with you but during intimacy, he takes it a little bit more seriously. There are times where he might laugh at how you look with cum on your cheeks and your wide eyes looking at him, but he’s laughing out of complete adoration of how cute you look to him like that. He’ll also grin while biting his lip at you as he’s plunging deeply into you at the look on your face. 
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
I think the curtains match to drapes but just a tad bit darker than his natural hair colors which is like a really dirty blonde/brunette. He doesn’t normal shave down there (but he does trim usually) but he does often consider the thought that you try and keep yourself all nice and pretty for him so he feels he should do the same, right? Even though you’ve told him multiple times it doesn’t bother you.
I= Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)
Anakin in the moment is always watching your face, wanting to see every single face you make to every thing he does to you. He’ll often catch himself smiling as you shut your eyes tightly as your mouth slack open as silent moans come out. Just as much as he watches your face he watches his cock slip in and out of you in awe.
J= Jack Off (Masturbation head canon)
Okok, so naturally he jacks off alone to the thought of you or the pictures/videos of you on his halo pad that he’s taken during sex or things like that (sometimes it can be a picture of you smiling or off guard and he’ll cum all over your face on the halo pad). But something that he seems to be damn near obsessed with doing is just jerking while looking at your naked ass while you lay on your stomach or your tits when your laying on your back and cumming all over you. He’ll grunt and moan out in a low but loud tone while his brows furrow. Idk I guess he loves to jack off to the real thing instead of a picture.
K= Kink (One or more of their kinks)
I know for sure he has these two kinks: 1. Dirty talk. Ooohh that man loves him some dirty talk. Every time you make a noise, he’ll say “yeah?” or “shhhh” (even though you better not stop making those pretty noises for him) in a low voice. Really his kink is him doing the dirty talking cause he knows how much you love it. This also kinda plays in with humiliation which only happens when he’s really losing control. 2. Chocking (when I was thinking of this one I couldn’t help but think of the scene on mustafar… sorry.) He doesn’t actually choke you but sometimes he likes to put pressure on your throat and he likes to look of his hand wrapped around it. Sometimes he’ll even use the force to do so just to feel powerful while doing so.
L= Location (Favorite places to do the do)
Anis favorite place is obviously his bed or your bed but sometimes he’ll let you ride him in his star-fighter… plain and simple.
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drgnflyteabox · 1 day
Text
lament [1]
part one -> honey || part two -> tbd
pairing: john price x fem reader summary: as you recover from prolonged illness, you meet a man on a hike in the woods just as strange things begin happening around you. tags/warnings: creepy / horror vibes, slowburn, phone sex, masturbation, injuries, mention of hospitals, pneumonia, mobility aids, softdom!price (for now), dubcon due to intoxication, tags will update as the story does w.c: 5.9k
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The woods are a peaceful, meditative thing. You’ve been spending your mornings there walking with Diva, meandering through the local trails and venturing off for pictures of red mushrooms or Diva in her little yellow raincoat, sniffing something or other.
The trails were scarcely used and took a couple of hours to finish, a longer trek in taller trees that closed off the sunlight and created peace through insulation, like an echo chamber of wet pitter patter from rain the night before and the gentle calls of birds, broken only by the sounds of your hiking shoes crunching gently through pebbles and leaves.
Quiet. It’s just what you need, slowly erasing memories of bright fluorescent lights and the smell of antiseptics. The trail isn’t elevated, it’s long, but not elevated. That’s important for your recovery, two months spent in a hospital bed attached to breathing apparatus.
Relief, freedom, as slow as your steps are and as beleaguered is your breathing, it’s pure relief. You’re no longer breathing through a straw, building strength walk by walk, spending time with Diva and watching her little tail wiggle under her coat. This time is good for her, too. You could sink to your knees and praise a higher being for the time off and sick pay policies your job has - so could Diva.
The shaking continues, your limbs still weak, muscles unused to standing and walking. You often find yourself sitting, on a log or a rock, and taking time to breathe and recover. Sometimes a granola bar makes its way into the mix, sometimes a handful of trail mix.
The last few times, there’s been a man. Tall, imposing, walking much quicker than you even with a brace around his knee. His posture tells you he takes himself pretty seriously, or he’s military, if there’s any difference.
Mutton chops, mustache, cargo pants. He’s been coming up behind you with sure steps, barely a limp even with his knee, and going by you so fast there's a breeze, makes you a little nervous to get mowed down.
Diva is weary of him. Her hackles raise, though she doesn’t bark, and she tucks close to you when he goes by. You don't feel unsafe, just a little surprised at the break in monotony no matter how tiny it is.
Doesn’t help that it’s pretty nice watching him go, that broad back and tight shirt, those well sculpted legs. Hey, you’re still sick and weak, still recovering. Sue me, you think, leaning on a tree when your lungs start burning again a little too much.
He stops, a few feet in front of you.
“You broken?” His voice is just as you imagined, rough maybe from smoking, maybe from overuse.
“What?” Broken?
“You alright?” He repeats, turning then. The quiet is a little oppressive now, with your struggle. You’re wheezing.
“Yes, yes, I’m fine-” you cough, dryly. “Just asthmatic.” It’s an easy explanation, you’re trying to get him to move on. You’ve never felt in danger, but it’s still the middle of the woods and he’s still a strange man.
“Need a hand?” He has to look down at you, even from a distance. His head is tilted down, arms folding across his chest, biceps calling to you like sirens.
You shake your head, squatting down as best you can, taking the breaths learned from your doctor and pulling out your steroid inhaler. One puff, two puff.
The man looks at you skeptically, eyes small and narrowed, flitting once to Diva who would fail as a service dog, but tries her best at guarding you despite being so small. Her gaze is pinpointed to him, as stiff as he is.
”Right, then,” is all he says before he’s back to his soldiers march.
You imagine him with horse blinders on and pulling a sled behind him, wheezing a laugh into the empty air.
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Recovery is not linear. That’s what your doctor tells you, what you were told before you left the ICU, before you were discharged all together. There’ll be ups and downs, moments where you feel you’ve backslid to the point of having to start all over.
You get it, really. It’s a mantra. Recovery is not linear.
What they don't warn you is that it’s different when you’re actually feeling it, waking up weaker than ever and coughing, burning in your chest. It’s jarring, every cell in your body crying for oxygen and yet you aren’t low enough that you need to go back to the ER, just sit up in bed and stare out the window to the fortress of green that surrounds your house.
Recovery is not linear. You watch comfort shows - animated Halloween specials, a couple months too early. They fit the cooling temperatures, the slow yellowing of the trees.
Food is hard when you can’t stand for long periods of time, so you order in. Soup, and an extra chicken crunch treat for Diva on her dinner.
It’s only when you turn Charlie Brown off that you hear it.
Tap tap tap. Deliberate, timed taps, like a mini hammer on a mini nail. Quiet enough that your ears strain, and yet you can just barely catch the sound. It’s coming from the side of your house, opposite to your bedroom and closest to the living room you were just in.
Tap tap tap. Maybe it’s the vibe you put yourself in, but you shiver with apprehension. Could be an animal, you do live fairly far out, and by the woods. Your driveway is long, separated from the highway just outside of town.
Diva is usually a false alarm - she raises her hackles at the stove, she’s not trustworthy when it comes to alerting you. And yet you look, and find her standing straight up and staring at the wall the sound is coming from, lips peeling back.
Only there's nothing you can do. You aren’t gonna go check, not with your weak limbs and thin breath. Theres a landline in the kitchen with a long cord, and your cellphone. The best you can do is lock the windows and doors, which you do, shuffling so as to make the least amount of noise possible.
Next the lights and curtains, drawn and shut. You tuck a knife under your mattress, more for reassurance than anything, and close your bedroom door behind Diva.
The only reason you’re able to sleep is the bedroom door locks. The handle has one, and there’s a chain above that. You tuck into bed under the covers like a child hiding from their closet, straining to hear the tap tap tap. Sometime between you locking all the entries and exits, it stopped, but you’re still unmoored.
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Your lungs fare better the next morning, eased by rest. You’re back in the woods by late morning, driving up to the trailhead through the canopy of trees. It really is beautiful, part of the reason you moved here, other than peace and quiet.
There's another car as you pull up, a reliable model in a dark colour, a surprise since you’re usually the first one there. 
You park away from it in an effort to not be creepy, but still sneak a peak while Diva does her post-car ride shakeout and pee.
It’s the man from before, sitting in the front seat, talking on a phone. He looks serious, frowning, talking in a measured way but you can still hear the volume as you pass by.
He waves, and you wave back, giving him a little smile.
Diva leads the way, prancing into the woods without fear even as the leaves start blocking out the sun. She inspires you - a little dog, brave, braver than you were last night.
God, it was probably a rabbit or a possum stuck somewhere. Maybe a mouse, and though you hope it isn’t it is the season for them. Cooler temperatures means creatures trying to enter your house. Means you have yet to drive down to town and pick up insulation supplies for your windows before fall really hits and you’re freezing.
Making a mental note of that, you lean heavily on your walking stick and pause. It’s one of those days, needing more aid than usual after yesterday and more breaks.
Crunch.
“Sorry, honey,” the army man holds his arms up, seeming sheepish as you flip around to face him. “Didn’t mean to scare ya.”
“Oh, no, it’s okay,” your cheeks burn in embarrassment. “Just jumpy today.”
“That’s alright,” his eyes crinkle at the corners, softening at the edges. He’s approachable today, not speed walking through the woods like there's a pot of gold at the end. “Mind if I join you?”
Unexpected, but with your eyes at pec-height it’s an easy yes. You deserve a handsome escort for the second half of the trail, and your emergency alarm is tucked in your front sweater pocket if you need it.
“Sure,” you nod. “I’m pretty slow, though, just to warn you. Recovering.”
“That’s fine, I should be taking it easier anyway. Make my physio happy for once,” he gestures to his knee with a chuckle. “John.”
You tell him your name. John. It suits him, the masculinity of it, the simpleness too. He gives the impression that he’s careful about how he presents himself, that outside of this sudden friendliness he’s very closed off - the way he was when you’d come across him before. Now he calls you honey, and touches his fingertips to your back as you navigate a patch of rough terrain warped by roots.
“I’m off until my knee is battle-ready, again,” he says it like it’s a joke, but there’s a steel edge beneath his words. You ask about his job: contract work, he says, not self-employed but with pockets of free time.
“Did you move here recently?” The wind shivers the trees, chillier than last week, as you meander.
“Ah, didn’t move here,” he scratches his thumb with his nose. “Staying with a friend. Needed the fresh air.”
“I get it,” your shoulder brushes his arm. “That’s why I moved here too.”
“Helps your asthma?”
You pause for a moment, confused. And then.
“Oh!” You’re a little embarrassed. “I don’t have asthma, actually. I mean I could have it, or develop it. But really I had pneumonia for a while, really wiped me out.”
“Ah, I see,” his voice says surprised, but his face stays the same. You wonder if he notices. “Terrible, that. My mum had a bad bout of it a couple years back, gave us a scare.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” you aren’t sure how old John is, but you can assume it was dangerous for his mother to have caught such a bad infection. “How’s she doing now?”
“Much better. Healthy as a goat.”
“A goat?” You’re laughing, then. A giggle that has him smiling back at you. “Haven’t heard that one before.”
John hums when he doesn’t reply verbally, and nods like you’re giving a university lecture. The attentiveness is nice, but it makes you self conscious, unused to having so much attention so focused on you. And he is so focused, like you’re discussing nuclear launch codes or what a quark is or something important. Honestly, it makes you hide your face in an embarrassingly shy way, avoiding eye contact.
He walks with you slowly, patiently down the path, arms crossed behind his back. Every once in a while either or the two of you laugh, which seems to bother Diva, whose been looking back at John suspiciously or trying to get between you the whole time.
“So sorry about that,” you really don’t know what’s gotten into her. Sure, she’s a pro at finding innocuous things suspicious, but you’ve been walking for a while now and she usually warms up when she realizes you’re okay with the offensive person or item.
“Don’t worry about it, honey,” honey again. He sure knows how to make a lady flustered. “She’s just looking out for her mama, right?”
If your pussy reacts to that, it’s no one’s business but your own.
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The air chills, day by day. John has begun joining you on your walks every other day, and sometimes you catch him jogging to the trailhead from the road instead of driving it. It makes you wonder where he’s, whether it’s close or he’s really pushing his knee, and whether or not he’s flirting with you when he shows up all sweaty in a tight shirt.
Another anomaly is that the tapping has returned, nearly every night. You’re scared every time, won’t even let Diva out for a final pee and have stuck to walking up at the buttcrack of dawn to make sure she’s taken care of.
Tedious, is what it is. Ridiculous. And yet when those little taps come, in different places around the house now, different walls, you hide under the covers with Diva growling her little growl at the bedroom door and try to sleep.
When cabin fever starts to set in, anxiety and insane thoughts like, what if someone is trying to break into my house? You decide it’s past time for a visit to town.
The trip serves many purposes, anyways. Diva needs treats, kibble, and a new ball. You need groceries, tampons, new socks. Overall worth it outside of the fresh air and human interaction with more than just one person.
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“Hey! Hey you!”
You’re in the bakery, weighing with your hands two loaves of artisanal bread. Just the one will do, since your freezer is small, but you want both. Pumpernickel or dark rye? Which will go better with the honey ham sandwich slices?
“Hello? Earth to-”
Your deliberation is interrupted by a waving in your face. You realize Jo, your only real friend in town, has run across the street to catch your attention.
“Oh gosh, my bad,” you look down at your shoes, then reach for a hug. She squeezes you.
“That’s okay, babe, off in your own world?” She’s dazzling, too cute for such a small town. Her ringlets bounce on her shoulders and her mouth, which is always smiling, is stretched wide with mirth. Makes you feel warm inside that she cares for you.
“Trying to make a hard decision. You know, end world hunger or stop all wars.” Stupid, but she laughs. You love making her laugh, and if you were lesbian you’d have made a move on her. Maybe you were, just a little.
“Why not both?” Her hands find your shoulders and squeeze. It’s then that you notice someone behind her, a much taller someone. At first the muscled chest and thick neck make you think it’s John, and a small squeeze of jealousy grips your stomach.
Then you see the mohawk, the difference in height. This man is looking at you with a similar intensity, though, all piercing blue eyes, thick furrowed brows, pin-straight posture.
“You’re right,” your laugh is more awkward, then, motioning with your eyes to the man.
“Oh, I’m so rude,” she turns to him. “This is Johnny, we met a few weeks ago.”
A wink. Ah, they met a few weeks ago. You picture them in the only bar in town, low lighting and Jo looking like Botticelli’s Venus, plump cheeks and red lips. And yeah, Johnny’s pretty good looking. You’d laugh about the mixup and the names if it wasn’t rude.
“Nice tae meet ya,” his accent is thick, palm warm and rough against yours. “Shall we, lass?”
He’s talking to Jo. They exchange glances, him looking at you once so fast you almost miss it. There’s something uncomfortably familiar about the look he gives you, but you shake it off. Nerves, you think. From the taps.
“Right,” Jo looks a little sheepish, then. “We’re off to the movies, but nice to see you!”
You raise a brow. You can’t help it, it’s 10am. Jo laughs and they leave.
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You bake, sometimes. It’s a good hobby for someone on a leave of absence with nothing much else to do but read, walk and play with her dog.
The oven sometimes scares Diva, and she curls up in your room indignantly until you’re done using it. You’ve always wondered why, since she came to you as a puppy and hasn’t got a single reason to be upset with the appliance. 
Oh well.
You decide to bring brown butter chocolate chip cookies on your hike, hoping to see John and give him one. Your interactions haven’t progressed past leisurely chatting and walking together, but he’s a handsome man and you're still a little stir-crazy. At least with work, it wasn’t just hours on hours of uninterrupted alone time.
Funny how that works, isn’t it? You spend every day at work wishing not to be at work, and once you have the opportunity you have no idea what to do with yourself.
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John loves the cookies. He takes two right out of the Tupperware, flattering you by groaning as he eats. The recipe is that good, but you think he might be putting it on a bit anyway.
It’s sweet.
“Fantastic,” he says, licking his fingers. You try not to look. “You bake often?”
“Just something to do, keeps me busy.” Diva has growled at John again, her second offense. She’s being a real heel today, rude and fussy. You elect to schedule a vet visit for a checkup soon.
“No one to keep you company in that house?” He stops when you need to stop, takes the opportunity to stretch his bad leg.
“What?” You take a puff of the inhaler, frowning a little.
“Are you lonely?” A weird question, but you chalk it up to small town weirdness.
“A little, but that one over there keeps me company,” as if she knows, she turns and yips. “What do you mean, that house?”
“You mentioned you live in your grandfather's house, no? Inherited it.” He chuckles at Diva.
“Did I? I don’t think…” you fully frown, thinking back to your conversations. Did you mention that? You haven’t even thought of it yourself for a while, not wanting to revisit painful memories. Your grandpa did pass you his house, but you’re usually more private than offering more than surface-level information to strangers.
“I believe so,” he looks deep in thought himself, squinting up at the umbrella of trees above you. That comforts you, the fact that he’s trying to recall. You’ve been so anxious lately.
“I must have forgotten, sorry. I’ve just been so scrambled lately.” John perks up at that, turning towards you as you finally continue walking.
“Scrambled?” His palm finds the back of your arm, the meat of it. He squeezes you, and it fills you with warmth. “How so?”
“Ah, well, just some animals around my house. I think,” you meet eyes, and he gets the best of you, so you elect to stare between his brows.
“Want me to take a look?” His tone is very serious. You shiver.
“I don’t think it’s necessary… I think there’s just some mice making a home for winter. I gotta call an expert,” He slides his hand down to your elbow, holding it gently. You’re nearing the end of the trail, the woods getting brighter around you. Diva marks her territory here more than anywhere else and yips at John again. 
“I could do it for free though, honey,” the air drops where you are, a gust of wind creating a symphony of sound all around you. A little romantic, you think. Ridiculous.
“Well,” far be it from you to pass up free help. “Only if you let me pay you back somehow.” 
“You have already,” he holds up the cookie Tupperware, shaking it gently. 
“Then let me make you dinner. Whatever you want!” The enthusiasm in which you say it has you cringing at yourself, but mentally you justify it; it’s completely normal to invite a friend over, especially to pay back a favour. You’re not being obvious that you’re attracted to him at all, no sir. Definitely not scared and in need of comfort, Mr John sir. 
“Sounds like a plan. I’m free after 7 o’clock.”
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You elect to be cliche and make British food. Good British food, a proper roast. Something you’d had a few times with friends in pubs or that time you’d visited London as an exchange student. Hot, smothered in gravy, salty and perfect with a mug of beer British food. You really hope he likes it, that he doesn't think you’re weird or making fun of him for his accent.
John is a proper gentleman, so punctual that he knocks on your door the very second it turns to 7:30 on your oven timer.
Diva has to battle her hatred of the stove with her need to announce a guest, staying in hallway purgatory barking at both.
The smell of garlicky roast beef, rosemary and thyme, salt and boiling potatoes is rife in the air, no doubt spilling into the woods through your badly insulated windows.
The moment it hits John, you can see it. Your door opens, creaking, and his eyes fix to you so quickly it’s almost physical.
“Hey! Thanks for coming,” you open it, motioning for him to come in. “Don’t mind Diva, she’s not a fan of the oven being on.”
He toes his boots off, still staring, like you’re a prize heifer and he’s set on buying you at the farm auction. A little sexy, mostly nerve wracking. Diva peeks around the corner at him and the sound of her little nails on the hardwood breaks the tension.
“Smells like home,” he leans closer to you to put his coat up on the rack. “You really went through all this trouble?”
“It’s the least I can do for your help.” At that moment, he seems to remember.
“Right, the mice. Want to show me where you heard them, or can I not steal you away from the stove?” His voice deepens as he talks, intensifying, grating hot coals and growling like a bear. Blue, focused eyes find the half-apron you’re wearing. You swear his pupils dilate, but he shakes his head before you’re sure.
“I can show you, there’s still a few minutes left for everything.”
The air is biting outside, cold with the evening breeze and dark already. So dark you equip your biggest, brightest flashlight and walk around the house with him, explaining the taps all around.
“I figure it’s them trying to dig holes so they can get in,” you hand the flashlight to him, feeling your fingers brush, and shivering in response. “I’ve been too chicken to check, to be honest. I keep thinking it’s a person walking around, not some animal.”
John nods as you speak, squatting by your little tool shed, looking diligently and moving items as he needs to. Then, he looks up, smiling a little.
“Why don’t you head inside, darling? Let me take care of this.”
“Sure,” you squeak. Squeak. Your stomach makes a knot and you scurry like one of the mice he’s looking for back into the house to mash the potatoes and make the gravy.
You are quite proud of this meal, not a proper cook by a long shot but it looks and smells pretty good. The Yorkshire puddings are alright, too, and that was the hardest part. Plus, you think, it’s free food. He’s gotta be happy with the effort, even if he winds up not liking it, right? That’s something your mother always told you. Someone’s put in a lot of effort for this meal, she’d say, pointing at you with a long nail. Better eat it.
“Think I found the little buggers,” John startles you just a little as he comes in, toeing his boots off again. You’re plating his plate, huge portions of mash potato and roast carrot and brussel sprouts nestled to the beef. His eyes look at the plate, then to you, then down to your apron, and you pretend you can’t see him adjusting his pants.
This isn’t what you think it is, you remind yourself. Two friends, one lending a hand and the other paying them back. You don’t even know his last name.
“Oh god, how bad was it?” You ladle gravy over his portion, then yours, pretending to be unaffected when he walks into your kitchen and takes a huge sniff.
“Not too bad. I’ll have to come back with some traps, if that’s alright.” You want to say John, you can come back anytime, but you don’t.
“Glad to know it was mice at least,” that’s the truth. A feeling you didn’t totally realize you had turns from paranoia into relief. “I was really scared it was some creep walking around my house, trying to get in.”
“Here,” John takes his plate when you hand it to him, but puts his phone into your hands before you can get yours. “Put your number in there, honey. Call me if anything like that happens.”
Honey. You fucking love that, so much it renders you temporarily mute as you punch in your number. He doesn't let you bring your own plate to the table, picks it up while you’re busy and comes back to shepherd you there with a palm on your lower back.
“Thank you,” you say, struck timid by his casual and yet firm guidance of you.
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Diva makes an appearance for supper, summoned by the smell of beef and the oven being turned off. Her little claws tip tap against the hardwood as she circles your chair, tucks herself under the table looking for scraps, and whines at John while he’s trying to eat.
You nudge her away from him with a socked foot, stuttering that she isn’t usually like this, honest, only for him to brush it off kindly.
After supper, when you’re full and you can’t handle him looking at you with those half-lidded, well-fed bear eyes anymore, you move to pick up the dishes and bring them to the kitchen.
“Ah ah,” John cuts in front of you, stealing the plates and cutlery. “You cooked, I’ll clean.”
Useless to argue - he’s built like a brick shithouse. You’re forced to pack up the leftovers, one container for you and one for him to take home. For no reason other than you’re feeling especially soft and gooey, you wrap up a few homemade fig and date granola bars for him to take too.
“Thank you,” he gruffs, rolling his sleeves to his elbows, flexing his forearm muscles, making you hot again.
“It’s really the least I can-”
Snap. Fuck, the day that creepy noises don’t happen near your house is the day you convert to whatever religion that’ll make it happen. Both your heads turn to the living room window, where the sound came from, a crack in the otherwise quiet night air.
Anxiety curls in your stomach, sharp and dreadful. You try to remind yourself that you live in the woods for gods sake, there’s gonna be sounds, but that awful sense of danger is back and if you were Diva your hackles would be raised.
John frowns, wiping his hands on a towel. He doesn't seem as phased as you are, probably because he’s not worried over boogeymen haunting the forest like you are, but when he looks back at you and sees your fright he leans in and murmurs that he’ll go take a look.
“It’s okay, it’s probably one of my furry friends,” you try, but he shakes his head, putting a palm on your hip for a brief moment as reassurance and then he’s out the door.
God, you’re so nervous you whip out a bottle of wine, desperate for a little courage. The feeling is so strange, you’re used to feeling safe and cushioned by your home, by the forest. Even your little dog whimpers, tapping her way into the kitchen, rubbing her face on your leg like a cat. She’s a comfort still, something about there being a more nervous person (or animal) that inspires bravery. Still, you won't peek out the window.
The wine is good. A little too dry, but still good. A housewarming gift from your mother, even though she knew you didn’t drink unless it was social.
Or unless you were nervously waiting for some man to come back, having dealt with your problems for you. She’d weep to see you, aproned and wringing your hands and sipping red wine too quickly. Whatever, you think. There’s nothing wrong with letting him help.
John comes back in, maybe a few minutes later or maybe a half hour, you can’t tell. Your wine is half empty, and you feel awkward about it so you pour him one without asking.
“Think you’ve got more than one furry friend,” John says, laughter in his voice. In his fingers he’s got tufts of light brown hair, which he holds up. “Dinner, if you hunt.”
“Ah, I don’t,” and you wouldn’t. You’re fine eating meat or even purchasing it from a local hunter to eat, but there’s something in you that’s deeply uncomfortable with the idea. Maybe it’s cowardice, unable to do the dirty work and yet enjoying the fruits of someone else’s labour. Maybe you’re putting stock in something that really isn’t worth stressing over. Either way, you’re overthinking, and only stop when John steps into your space.
“Hey- you alright, darling?” You like darling too, just as much as honey.
“Yeah, sorry,” your hands find the wine glass you poured for him, and you hand it over. One thing about abstaining is that it hits you quickly, even with the big meal. “Want to sit? I’ve got a fireplace.”
You cringe at yourself, not meaning to sound so suggestive. Oh well, he doesn’t seem to mind, just nods and takes you by the elbow again to your living room.
“This all the heading you’ve got?” John asks.
“Er, no. I have to get my windows insulated for winter, then I can turn the heating on without it all going to waste. For now, I make do with the fireplace,” when you sit, Diva runs to you both and demands to be swaddled in her blanket. It’s an old knitted one, a college project finished between essay assignments and readings. There’s sentimental value there, especially with your pup who doesn’t even let the presence of a strange man come between her and her cozying up.
“I can help with that,” John says. Briefly, Westley pops into your head shouting As you wish! and it makes you smile.
“That’s okay,” you sip, tasting spice. Would’ve been good with dinner. “I owe you double now for helping me again.”
“Not at all, sweetheart.” Oh, he’s full of names - and getting bolder. 
The conversation ebbs and flows naturally. Sometimes you both sit in silence, sipping, refilling glasses, staring at the fire. He’s easy to talk to, soothing, his confidence and sureness leaving you relaxed.
“I better get going,” he grunts as he stands, extending a palm to you.
“Are you okay to drive?” You’re half worried, half disappointed. There’s been a steadily building sense of heat between your legs the entire evening, brought on by his touches and his pet names and his taking care of you
“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. I live close-by.” That’s one mystery solved.
“Well, okay. But will you call when you get home?” If you weren’t three glasses in, you might be embarrassed. John crinkles his eyes at you while he puts his boots on.
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“John?” You’re in your pajamas, face hastily cleaned with a makeup wipe. Your door is double locked again, anxiety beaten down by the wine.
“I’m home,” he sounds distant. You can’t really hear anything, just his breathing, the sounds of him taking off his coat and his boots. “You tucked in bed, sweetheart?”
“I am,” you breathe, eyes slipping, drunker than you thought you were. “Did you drive okay?”
“I did,” he laughs. His keys jingle and make a clamor as he tosses them. You imagine him in a house that fits him, a log cabin or a house built by hand, before remembering he’s talking with someone. Disappointment dampens you a little.
“I guess I should let you get to bed then,” you try to keep it out of your voice, but you’re curled on your side with a hand pressed against your clothed pussy and it’s hard not to be sad at the fact that you have no idea if he’s actually been flirting with you, or just being friendly.
“You sound disappointed,” either he’s perceptive, or you’re more obvious than you’re trying to be. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you without saying goodnight.”
A pulse, between your legs. You rub with all four fingers, moving the phone away from your mouth.
“That’s okay, I don’t want to keep you,” you scrunch your eyes shut, trying to stop, not being able to. You’re starved, really, haven’t been touched or talked to like you’re desirable in quite some time and he makes you feel safe. Taken care of.
“You touching that wet little cunt, sweetheart?” A shockwave, from your nipples tightening to your toes tingling, curling. You stop hiding, breathing whines into the phone.
“I’m so sorry,” you mumble, biting your lips. It feels like permission, and maybe it is or maybe it isn’t, but you stuff your hand into your pants and start focusing on your needy clit. “I’m so-”
“Shh, sh, sh,” you hear a mattress creak, a grunt, and imagine him laying back. Maybe palming his cock. “That’s okay, baby, I could tell how needy you were.”
Panting, you stuff two fingers in your soft hole, grinding your palm into your clit. You hear him making sounds, quieter than you, but you’re straining to hear them. He starts talking you through it, murmuring into your ear, calling you sweetheart and honey and baby, telling you to put three fingers in and to play with your tits.
“Go ahead and touch your nipples, sweetheart, go on,” his breath is growing laboured. “Needed to come so she could sleep, did she?”
For a moment, you think he’s talking about you.
“Poor little pussy needed some attention,” his voice gets rougher again, like when he walked in and saw that you had made him a roast. “Give it to her then, baby, go on, let her come.”
That’s all you need. You squeeze your nipples one last time, letting your tits out of your shirt and turning over to hump your hand unashamedly. Your clit drags against your palm still, hips desperately moving, listening to him grunting and groaning on the other side of the call, waiting to hear him come before you let go.
You shake, shiver, curl into yourself as your core tightens and explodes like an elastic band snapping. It’s great, just what you needed, and you’re half asleep by the end of it
“John..” you mumble into your pillow, just enough consciousness left to pull your hand out of your pajama pants.
“It’s alright, it’s time to sleep now, alright? Close your eyes.”
“Alright, John.”
“Good girl,” his voice is distant, sleep taking you, muscles more relaxed than they’ve been in so long.
You’ll deal with the rest in the morning.
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mysteryshoptls · 10 hours
Text
SSR Ace Trappola - Room Relaxation Vignette
"Happy Birthday"
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[Exterior Hallway]
Ace: Well, it's gettin' about time. Guess I'll head to basketball practice… Hm? Who's that over there…?
Ace: Yo, Kalim-senpai! How's it going? Hey, hey, do you know what tomorrow is?
Kalim: Tomorrow? Hm, what's going on tomorrow…? Is there a dance competition? Oh, or is there some sort of feast planned?
Ace: Ooh, you're getting' close! The correct answer is… My birthday~!
Kalim: Woah! Tomorrow's your birthday!? That's awesome!!
Ace: Yeah, it's totally awesome! There's gonna be a party back at my dorm, and everyone'll get me a gift. It'll be a blast!
Ace: But, y'know, the crazier the party, the more lonely it feels the day after my birthday…
Ace: I always feel like it'd be great if these sorts of days come around two or three times more a year.
Ace: …Don'tcha think, Kalim-senpai?
Kalim: Oh, yeah, I feel you! It just doesn't feel enough to only have one birthday a year.
Kalim: Hey, I just had a great idea! I'll throw you another party the day after your birthday.
Kalim: That way you won't feel as lonely, right? It sounds super fun, so let me do this for you!
Ace: Ehhhh, you sure!? I'm tickled pink! Kalim-senpai, thanks so much!
Kalim: Yeah! I'll make it the best, most outrageous party you've ever seen, so I hope you look forward to it!
[Kalim leaves]
Ace: Nice, I got Kalim-senpai to celebrate my birthday! And he's making it an outrageously awesome party…
Ace: That might get a veto from Jamil-senpai, though…
Ace: But regardless, I at least secured a promise from Kalim-senpai for a celebration. I can't way for the day after tomorrow~!
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[Heartslabyul Dorm – Ace's Room]
Ace: Huuurgh, today's basketball practice was insanely hard… Floyd-senpai just wouldn't quit guarding me!
Ace: Usually he just gets bored and disappears off to who knows where… Ugh, I'm so tired~ I just wanna pass out…
Ace: My roommates sure got it easy. Doesn't sound like they got any upperclassmen that cause problems or nag all the time…
Ace: …Augh, I'm definitely gonna fall asleep if I just keep zoning out. I'm gonna go jump in the shower.
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[Heartslabyul Dorm – Ace's Room]
[roommates chatting]
[Roommate A greets Ace]
Ace: I'm baaack. Why did I take so long…? Y'see, Trey-senpai cornered me while I was brushing my teeth in the washroom.
Ace: He made me re-brush my teeth, and then handed me some floss and mouthwash. Then…
「Survey on Quality of Life Improvements for the Student Body」
Ace: Right, so he handed me this survey to fill out too. Ugh, it's short answers! Better if it was multiple choice or something.
Ace: Hey, can't any of you guys fill this out for me? I'm real tired from practice today, 'cause it was reeeal hard.
[Deuce refuses]
Ace: …Do it myself without tryin' to slack off? Fine, fine, guess that's what I shoulda expected from you honor student types. You're takin' it waaay too seriously!
Ace: Maybe I'll just jot down that it sucks to be stuck in a room with guys I don't vibe with, or something.
[Deuce argues]
Ace: …Oh, shut up, I was just kidding. Whatever, I guess I'll just start filling in the form.
Ace: First off… The dorm rooms are way too small! That's the worst thing, so I definitely can't leave that out.
Ace: Sure, we can ask each other to swap dorm duties, or help each other when we can't remember a specific Queen of Hearts' rule…
Ace: So I guess it's not the end of the world that there's four of us in here. But it'd be better if the room was just a bit bigger.
Ace: It's practically impossible to study in here. Sometimes someone else's stuff'll end up in my personal space, too.
[Roommate B speaks up]
Ace: …Huh? Pot, meet kettle? No way, I'm always tiding up after myself…
[Roommate B interjects]
Ace: Eh, you found my pen mixed in with your stuff the other day? Uhhhh…. Oh, dang, look at that, it's lights out time!
Ace: I gotta hit the hay! Mmkay, night!
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Ace: Aaand, that's the way to shut them out! This is why I love canopy beds.
Ace: As soon as I draw the curtains closed, I can have secure myself a small, little private space…
Ace: The thicker curtains help to keep light and sound down, so even if I'm playing with my phone all night long, it's not bothering anyone else.
Ace: When I think of it that way, I think the only thing I really have to complain about my room is just that it's small.
Ace: …But once I step outside my room, I gotta deal with strange rules, scary upperclassmen, and insanely hard homework.
Ace: Oh, right, I have homework… I need to do that… But first, I think I'll take a bit of a breather and play on my phone for a bit!
Ace: Ooh, my middle school friends uploaded something onto Magicam. They look like they're havin' fun back in the Queendom.
Ace: I feel crazy jelly seeing that, especially since I'm stuck in the middle of nowhere on Sage's Island… Hm?
Ace: Wait, what's this video at the bottom…? Oh! It's an ad for the magic shop I was looking into the other day!
Ace: Woah, how'd they manage that trick? Yooo, I bet I'd look real cool if I could master that!
Ace: I really want that magic trick. Maybe I should ask for it for my birthday.
Ace: Oh, hey, that next manga chapter is out. I gotta check that out.
Ace: Oh, and there's an event going on in that one mobile game. Guess I can log in for that. Oh, and…
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[Heartslabyul Dorm – Ace's Room]
Ace: Urrrgh… Mm… It's too bright… Is it morning already? I guess I fell asleep playing the game.
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Ace: What time is it…? Huh!? It's already this late!? Hey, why didn't anyone wake me up!?
Ace: Didn't my alarm wake me? You opened my curtain for me? …If you're gonna do that much, you coulda woken me up!
Ace: At least I don't have morning practice today… But I gotta get ready on the double!
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[Heartslabyul Dorm – Washroom]
Ace: My face is washed and my skin-care routine is done.
Ace: Ack, my hair's all over the place! Ughh, c'mon, I hate how my hair is…!
Ace: Maybe I can just fix it with some wax… Oh, but I want to make sure I have time to fix my makeup…
Ace: I got no choice, I should just use magic to set it! I screwed it up last time, but… I can totally do it today! Definitely! Hyah!
[poof!]
Ace: AAAAAAAAHH!? IT GOT EVEN WORSE, THIS SUCKS!!
Ace: What can I even do about this now!? Okay, first, let me try this spray to fix the bedhead!!
[spritz, spritz, spritz]
Ace: Ack, did I spray too much? Okay, I should just be able to rub it in here with my fingers… Guess I'll just have to see how it looks later.
Ace: I gotta set my makeup while I wait for my hair to loosen up. First, I gotta slap on some sunscreen…
Ace: Now, my eyebrows are the priority. I can kinda let everything else be half-done, but this's gotta be on point.
Ace: Back in middle school, I remember we were all laughing our heads off at this one person who did a terrible job drawing in his eyebrows, tryin' to look all fashion-y.
Ace: …I mean, not like I'd ever or will ever make that kind of screw up, though.
Ace: I saw a video yesterday that says that thicker eyebrows are in right now, so I'll just try to follow that tutorial and draw in where it's lacking…
Ace: Okay, nice. Not bad! I think I did pretty good for just trying to copy what I saw.
Ace: Now all I got left is my eye makeup… What should I do for the suit? I'd like to use something with a bit of lamé in it, but…
Ace: I bet the Housewarden'll get all huffy if it's too fancy. Guess I should just do what I normally do.
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Ace: How's my hair looking…? Nice, it's tamer now! Probably was a good thing to spray too much on it.
Ace: Just gotta put some hair wax in to set it… Done. Whew, I feel a bit more presentable now.
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[Heartslabyul Dorm – Ace's Room]
[roommates chattering]
Ace: I gotta get my stuff together ASAP… Wait, huh? If the rest of you are all here, does that mean we still have a bunch of time?
Ace: Maan, then I coulda worked on my hair a bit more. I think I'll dip into the washroom again… Huh? My enigmatics homework?
Ace: …AAAAAAAAAH!! I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT IT!!
Ace: Oh man, I'm so screwed, Crewel's gonna tan my hide if I don't do anything… What should I do!?
Ace: …Hold the phone. I have enigmatics in the afternoon. That essentially means I'll have my lunch break before I have to turn it in.
Ace: I think the other classes might be ahead of us, so maybe they've already finished the homework already?
Ace: Even if the questions are slightly different, as long as I can figure out how they solved it, I should be able to bang it out… Oh yeah, it's all coming together.
[Roommate A speaks up]
Ace: Wheeew, I got all worked up over nothing~ Mmkay, then I'm heading out… Huh, what is it? You want me to help with your homework?
Ace: Hahahah, no waaaay! Here, I'll open the curtains up for you, so why don't you figure out the rest~?
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[Main Street]
Kalim: Oh, there he is. Ace! Good morning!
Ace: Ah, Kalim-senpai! Good morning…? What's up? Isn't the party tomorrow?
Kalim: Yeah! But your birthday's today, right? That's why I thought I'd come wish you a happy birthday in person.
Kalim: So, yeah… Happy Birthday, Ace!
Ace: Haha, you really are the type of guy to show up the day of just to wish someone a happy birthday, huh.
Ace: Thanks a bunch! I can't wait for the epic party tomorrow!
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Requested by @thelonepearl.
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