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onlyswan · 1 year

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summary: in which your period cramps bring you to tears but jungkook’s gentle hand is warm.

> fluff / wc: 2k

> warnings: boob massage !!, mention of sex, mention of period blood

note: a little sumnsumn for the physical intimacy of it all <3 and my fellow period havers who get unbearable period cramps and sore boobies </3 and before u ask - yes, i’ve been listening to joon’s closer on repeat a lot. like a lot. and it makes me devastatingly emotional. + feedback is always appreciated :DD

—

your head accidentally bumping against jungkook’s shoulder as you curl up in pain is what ultimately wakes him up. out of habit, his blurry eyes gloss over at the time displayed on the digital clock. 3:14am.

he cups your face in concern, which is visibly stricken with agony. two of his longest fingers brush back the strands of hair that fell over your eyes, and they flutter upon shortly after. his lips curve into a frown when he notices your eyelashes that kissed your cheeks goodbye are wet from unshed tears. you fell asleep at 9pm earlier, and he thought you’d feel better when you wake up in the morning, but he turned out to be wrong. your period cramps seem to be particularly bad this month, adding up to the fact that it arrived two weeks early.

“want a massage, baby?”

his deep morning voice sends a shiver running through your spine, and you quickly try to cover it up with a whine. “yes, please.”

he grabs the lavender essential oil from the first drawer of the nightstand beside him, and his hand already turns slippery from barely holding the bottle. you force yourself to lie down on your back, allowing your boyfriend to apply three pumps of the oil on your stomach. he pulls your shirt back down to shield you from the airconditioner before lowering the waistband of your shorts to reach your lower abdomen. he lathers the oil across your soft skin, hoping to ease the tension of the muscles beneath it.

“your hand is so warm.” you mumble with a shaky sigh, at last finding the inexplicable relief you desperately needed. the hot compress that has gone cold too quickly beside you would hang its head in shame if only it could hear. “you’re a godsend. thank you.”

he hums in response, inching closer to give your temple a kiss. his tender rubbing gradually turns into adept kneading, mindful of exerting just the right amount of pressure so he won’t cause you any more pain. next thing you know, he’s lying on his side and using your arm as a pillow as he peppers kisses along the expanse of your jaw and neck.

with your eyelids fluttering open and shut from drowsiness, you lazily grasp jungkook’s wrist to guide his hand higher on your torso. “it’s sore here, too.”

he grazes the swell of your right breast with a feather-light touch. “where?”

“there . . . there. hurts.” you whimper weakly when he applies a little pressure on the side near your armpit, unconsciously digging your nails on his forearm. you despise how your eyes are watering again, and you’re not even sure if it’s because of the pain or simply put, jungkook’s existence. “and under it.”

with courteous gentleness, his four fingers dance across your skin in repetitive movements. he creates circular motions from under your breast to the side, and then he makes his way back to where he started to do it all over again.

“does this feel okay?”

the scent of lavender and your boyfriend’s affectionate ministrations carry you to slumber’s glittering gates, but his voice nudges you away before you can take a step inside the land.

“huh?” you whisper tiredly.

he snickers with his eyes closed. “i asked if this feels okay. are you getting sleepy again?”

his heavenly therapeutic massage doesn’t cease. his thumb brushes against your nipple every now and then, which is why it’s unsurprising to feel it perk up and harden under his touch. he continues with following the loop he made, determined to shoo away the soreness that’s causing his lover to tear up and sniffle in pain.

“so nice. i’m falling asleep soon.” your fingers thread through his dark hair, loosely hugging him to your chest as you drown yourself in the scent of his shampoo.

“does the other one hurt too?”

his innocent question makes you chuckle. this causes your body to vibrate and to trigger the sharp pain shooting up on your sides. holy fucking shit, that hurts. hormones are a bitch.

“yes, but not as much.”

jungkook fights off sleep as he alternates between massaging your lower abdomen and chest. your skin gradually dries up as it absorbs the essential oil, but he doesn’t take this as a signal to stop at all. he keeps going anyway. as sleepiness clouds his mind, however, he impulsively cups your breast in his hand and allows himself a firm squeeze. the two of you knew it was inevitable, really, because it’s obviously a reflex for him at this point. and yet, your breath still gets heavier, as if this is the first time you’ve been touched by him.

“you’re so squishy. want to stay like this forever.” he mumbles almost incoherently. he gives the soft flesh another squeeze, and another, and another, before pressing his fingers on the side to carry on with his massage.

“you know, i’m starting to think you really mean that.” you recount all the other times he hazily uttered the same words while holding your boobs and/or nuzzling his face against them during non-sexual encounters simply because he finds them, in his own words, so comforting. one of these days you ought to ask: does he have the same affinity for them as you do for his doe eyes?

well, not that you mind. clearly, you get more privileges from it than you originally thought.

“mhmm, guilty as charged.” he replies with a toothy grin.

he pulls you closer by the curve of your waist as if your bodies could possibly get any closer than this, but he stubbornly insists and he painfully yearns. lost in a haze— he wants to get under your skin, let his pounding heart cross the distance and meet yours like two penpals throwing caution to the wind. however, your hearts are prisoners to your vessels.

isn’t this the reason we have sex? make love? to be as close as humanly possible? more than what they call an instinct, honestly speaking, is it not an enigmatic ache? a greedy appetite for love?

maybe that’s also why jungkook refuses to stop stealing kisses from your lips despite uncontrollable giggles racking the both of you. he holds himself up on top of you, planting his hands on the mattress. teeth accidentally knocking once, lips landing on the corners of your mouth, the air becomes warmer but he refuses to let go of the moment when he finally aims right. maybe that’s why he still chases after you despite getting reluctantly pushed away, feeling like he just won the nine-digit prize at the lottery when he gets rewarded with one final peck. it’s as if to say i don’t want to be a stranger. i don’t want to forget. let me mold the memory of the shape of your lips onto mine.

“your hair kept tickling my ear.” you tilt your head to the side to escape, gasping for air.

his playful giggles continue to fill the dark hours’ ringing silence, relentlessly moving closer to snuggle with you again. the scent of lavender has hung to the fabric of your shirt, and it soothes him to sleep like a lullaby.

“you made all the blood gush out. i hate you. need to go change before i stain the sheets.”

the loss of your warmth causes him to muffle a groan against your pillow, his hand holding on to yours until the hook of his pinky finger slips away from your thumb. he hears the walk-in closet open and close, and then the same with the bathroom door. the sound of water running from the shower serves as white noise as he loses the battle against the angel of slumber.

feeling refreshed after a quick warm shower, you go back to bed with your pain finally cranked down to a bearable level. however, the sight of your sleeping boyfriend snoring with his mouth slightly open makes you click your tongue with a laugh. the stubborn man somehow always ends up using your pillow, or you as a pillow. with a silent grunt, you carefully carry and drop his upper body to his side of the bed, followed by his long legs. you adjust his head on his special pillow to keep it elevated just enough, so he won’t complain about a sore neck in the morning.

the snoring stops briefly, and then comes back softer this time around. well, that’s good enough.

—

jungkook jolts awake at the sound of his 5am alarm, rushing to turn off the phone tucked under the side of his pillow so it won’t disturb you. as he stretches out his limbs, he rubs away the remaining sleep in his eyes to look at your sleeping figure properly. you’re facing him with your hand curled up around his tattooed forearm. your phone is propped up against your pillow, still faintly playing the ghibli film ‘princess mononoke’. he takes it with him when he soundlessly climbs off the bed. he leaves it turned off on top of the nightstand beside you before stumbling inside the bathroom.

he sleepily stands infront of the mirror as he brushes his teeth, tucking his hair behind his ear to observe the lines that formed on his face, the most probable cause being that he slept on his side again. with his exhausted eyes closed, he starts massaging his cheek with the heel of his palm to increase the circulation of blood and oxygen, which will make the lines fade away quicker. he still smells the traces of lavender from not too long ago. he splashes his face with water, and they get washed away and replaced by the smell of his face cleanser.

it’s already past 6am when he deems himself prepared to leave for work. he turns off the stove and refills your hot compress with the water he heated up, softly singing the words to ‘dynamite’ as he does so. he runs through the choreography inside his head, making small lazy movements, just to keep his body familiar with the dance moves.

with his backpack swung over his shoulder, he goes back inside the bedroom to bid you goodbye. you tossed and turned in the empty queen-sized bed while he was gone, and you’re already lying on your back with your shirt riding up above your belly button.

“aigoo, aigoo! you’re a messy sleeper, i’m a heavy sleeper. we really belong together.” he converses with himself as he pulls your shirt down and places the hot compress over your lower abdomen.

you attempt to turn to your side again but he holds you back, putting your hand on top of the hot compress to keep it pressed against you.

“hey- hey, baby. i’m off to work now.”

you only hum in response, raising your arms to reach for him. he instantly bends down into your embrace, pressing his lips to your forehead for a kiss that lasts a little longer than usual. “mmmm-mwah!”

“can’t- open my eyes. i bought new face masks yesterday. are you wearing it?” you mumble. “the other brand’s strings are too fragile. i fucking broke five of them. don’t wear those anymore.”

he chuckles at the way your voice gets louder while saying the curse word then drops back down to quiet mumbling right after. it’s sickening how being in love makes him fawn over the smallest details about you.

“yup. found them in the living room.” his thumb brushes against your cheek lovingly. “take it easy working today, okay? i love you.”

you nod your head repeatedly. he doesn’t understand the slurred words that manage to escape your mouth after that, and perhaps, he doesn’t need to. he knows that you love him too.

—

taglist! @alanniys @jjkeverlast @queenofdragonsandcats @yvesismywife @enhypenslay @jeonqkooks-main @witchfqllen @virgogentlejk @rkie @jeonwiixard @monilyv @bermudaisy @ameliejeannelaurent @takochelle @the1921-monsters @investedreader @seagulljk @yeow6n @yoonqkiss @hopeworldjimin @lllucere @unnatae @zqynmlk @bxbyyyjocelyn @zkdlllin @koostarcandy @tswisal1 @fragmentof-indifference @laylasbunbunny @jjk-jeongirl @cherishoshi @taexidriver @luaspersona @yn-lifeu @loveejkk @bloopkook + send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

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fatal-blow · 2 days

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actually speaking of that "everything i love causes carpal tunnel" shirt i know! a muscle that causes carpal tunnel-like symptoms!

the bad news is that it's the underside of the shoulder blade, but the good news is that once you figure out how to reach it, it's quite easy to release!

anyways meet the subcapularis

(all images taken from Myofascial Pain and Dysfunction (3rd Edition) by Travell et al)

the subcapularis helps pull the shoulder forward and rotate it inwards, meaning it's involved in many activities which cause the much dreaded carpal tunnel--yes, even though it's nowhere near the wrist. the anatomy of the shoulder makes it easy for nerves and vessels to get compressed, causing all sorts of fun symptoms like pain, tingling, and cold fingers.

this is the referred symptom zone:

obligatory i am not a doctor, just very autistic about musculoskeletal pain, and can't guarantee this massage will help your carpal tunnel symptoms, but I will say that uhhh every time I do this for myself i can feel all blood and sensation rush back into my arm, and it's always best to try massage before more invasive stuff like surgery

1. Find a spot where you can sit, feet planted on the ground, and lean forward and rest your head on something with your arm hanging down between your legs. This will slide the shoulder blade to the side of the ribs, where you can reach the underside.

2. Above is what the subcapularis looks like with the surrounding muscles. Using your fingertips (you might wanna cut your nails) or your thumb if preferred, find the bony edge of the shoulder blade, and start poking around the underside.

3. You'll most likely only be able to reach the edge of the muscle, but that's enough! When you press into it, you will probably feel like you're reproducing your symptoms. Don't worry; you aren't hurting yourself and in fact this means you're in the right spot! Massage it gently, enough to feel it but not enough to wince, until you can't find anymore painful spots (or until you feel better, sometimes you can't get it all in one session).

3.5. If your pain increases overall, don't do it. Though pressure should elicit symptoms, this type of massage should provide pretty immediate relief, and if it doesn't then either some other muscle(s) is involved or it's not muscle related at all.

4. Finish up by rolling your shoulder back, like you're stretching out your chest/reaching behind you, a few times. It's normal to hear clicking--good, actually, that's the sound of your body realigning.

5. I recommend doing this at least daily, even after the symptoms have eased, until it's no longer sensitive to massage. Keep in mind that this muscle has been overused, and that the muscles that oppose it have weakened. It will keep trying to tighten up again until the weakened muscles have recovered, so you need to actively treat it and keep an eye out for habits that cause you to roll the shoulder forward.

And that's it! If you intend to resume carpal tunnel inducing activities ASAP, see if you can take a moment every 30 minutes or so to do a quick shoulder stretch. This helps prevent the muscle from tightening, and you only need to spend moments to do so. Quick breaks like this actually go a long way towards preventing injury, and help you keep working without interrupting the flow to go do some body maintenance :P

#fatals physio corner #i actually dont get wrist pain from this muscle it's only ever made my shoulder hurt #there are a lot of muscles that can affect nerves and vessels leading into the arms tho #so if its not the subcapularis then it might be a different guy #like my mortal enemy the latissimus dorsi #but that's for another post #chronic pain

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visionsofmagic · 7 months

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day 27: bi han [humiliation]

࿓ synopsis • your grandmaster gives you a lesson for the disrespect you have showed in front of others.

―❦ nsfw, ownership, pet names, rougness, possessiveness, fingering, cum eating, weight, power play (kinda), rudeness, sub!reader (much of it), f!reader, no use of y/n, ordering, oversitumulation, sensivity, fluff (at the end), ‘is all I guess?• 1.3k • while writing this I thought about how it would be if he’s the one who is dominated by the reader, so, we can see it in the future! *this bitch needs to be put down, soo* anyway, enjoy this one too because he’s so bi han! [kinktober m.]

“fuuuck! master!”

“that’s it slut, moan it louder, tell me who owns you as if your pussy isn’t telling it enough.”

he growls into your ear as he keeps pounding into you so mercilessly that you swear you will not be able to walk straight the following day for quite some time.

it doesn’t matter though, not when your grandmaster takes care of you with full of his attention even though it means educating you for something you didn’t mean to do in front of others – it just slipped out of your mouth without any control of your brain, instantly regretting it, but it was too late – even now, it’s not enough how he devours you, standing above you, chest touching your exposed breasts – the nipples harden whenever they meet with his cold chest, cock is buried deep inside you – leaving no room – all full.

“m-master!” you say, trying to hold still, be the good girl he wants to have after such disrespectful behavior of calling him by his name, bi han, the title was long forgotten at that moment. he didn’t say anything, face stayed behind the mask, yet, the way his gazes shifted from other assassins to you fast was proof of how fucked up you were – and his thrusts only proved your assumptions to be true. “please – I need – I – aggh!”

“you need?” he chuckles - mocks, hands holding your wrists, pushing them onto the bed beneath you that seems to be made of iron because it can’t be explained how it stands still after such strength coming from bi han – his weight only gives you another wave of pain mixed with the bliss of pleasure.

“what made you think that you can demand anything from me whore? oh right,” he answers his own question by kneeling lower, nose touching your cheek, tears dripping onto the sheets – no fear is bloomed inside your chest, no, yet it is a bit thrilling seeing him like this – even eyes turning ice blue because of how mad he is. “your fucking brain is useless now, isn’t it? too occupied with my cock that you have become my cockslut.”

another thrust, another swear – coming from him even though he tries to hide how good you’re making him feel with your pussy clenching around his length, soaking into it, legs wrapped around his back too, and another moan, coming from you – such sin that it makes you want to hide your pathetic self from his view – but you know he will never let that to happen; you being such a mess only because of him feed the power he has on you.

you are being weak like this is the most beautiful sight to him.

maybe it is the reason why he wants to gather more of the expressions you’re making by holding you from the waist, then, turning you over so that he can fuck you from behind as he compresses your body between his and the bed, the weight gets heavier, it becomes too much to handle – too hard to keep your sanity.

“yeah, cute whore,” he says, shoving his cock deep and hard – yet so slow as his chest covers your back, radiating coldness from his skin to your warm one. difference makes your mind go crazy – eyes looking at his smirking face from the corner, losing it all when his other free hand touches your abdomen, right at where his cock’s outline is appearing. “feel it? feel how my cock is filling you up fully? that’s what you’re made for – to have my cock whenever I want, being a fucking slut for it – for me – your grandmaster.”

he sounds as if he waits for a response from you, however, you know he doesn’t need one – not when you cum undone a few seconds later after his words of putting you so down – so low contrary to him – showing his power, and the weakness you have when it comes to him.

“yes, yes, yes! Master – ohhh – mmhh – yes, I, I – fuuck! aggh!” you say incoherently, your mind is dizzy, tongue rolls on its own, and eyes go white as the highness of climax hits you like he hits all right place – he wants to punish you yet why he keeps pounding all the right stops, giving you a pleasure you have never felt before. the answer is somewhere on your mind, the deepest place of it, waiting for it to be discovered – getting into the surface, but, it turns into darkness when he fucks you through your high, climax – your sensitive cunt squirts.

“say it,” he orders, you can sense it from his voice, “say who’s your owner, slut.”

“you!” you say without hesitation – no shame, a little maybe, full of pride. it would have felt so wrong – it should’ve – but with him, it sounds the right thing to be. “my grandmaster!”

“say my name,” he orders again, a bit calmer down, weight is there still – thrusting roughly into your abused pussy, using the wetness of it to go in and out easier. “moan it.”

and you do it right away, feels like if you don’t moan his name, the life will be meaningless. “bi han! ohhh – bi han!”

crying between your moans, you feel his cum washing your walls after hearing you cry under him, moaning his name, raising your ass up while doing it to make it as effective as possible for him – such a naughty girl for him he likes to break.

your cries stop when bi han’s weight disappears in a sudden movement,

confused, you try to look at him after getting yourself together – only to see him standing on his knees, left hand holding you from the waist to make your ass stay up as the free one getting closer to your core.

“m-master?” you as in a low voice, like a whisper even, understanding what he is about to do and feeling something you can’t put a name on.

his eyes look at yours for a moment, radiating both coldness and warmness, making them flow into your body and finally finding your soul from there.

to see it better, you wink rapidly, getting rid of the last drip of your tears, and waiting for him to do what he wants.

he slowly goes out of your pussy – with each inch, his fingers find it immediately after, and when his cock finally leaves your cunt – you already begin to miss it, his fingers fill up the emptiness by pushing his semen into you in delight, smirking down at the mess he’s making out of your cunt and you only stay on your elbows, ass up, pussy is being wide open so that you can have all the semen he gives to you.

“made for me, just me, mine –“ he says again, reminding, looking at you again as he continues, fingers never leaving, playing with your folds, entering it in and out. “all mine,” he listens to lewd voices coming from your pussy, whimpers and swears that leave your mouth beautifully.

“b-bi han – ooh –“

“pretty slut,” he says again, “my pretty slut though,” then his fingers covered with both your and his cum stays in front of your half-closed eyes, “open your fucking mouth.”

he watches how your mouth opens wide, taking his fingers, and licking them. his other hand stays on your hair now, caressing it, smiling proudly, “be a good girl and obey your grandmaster – know your place.” he says before leaving you free.

the moment your body collapses into the bed, a fear hits you – fear of being left behind, but, he proves it wrong when he picks you up after a while, taking you into the bath that he has prepared.

you look at his face in disbelief – hands on his chest, back and legs wrapped by his arms. “master –“

he rolls his eyes, “just stay quiet. I don’t want to hear any of your babbling about it.” you don’t say a single word after that – just smiling widely, and finding peace and affection under his arms as he takes care of you. you’re his favorite after all.

❦ tagging: @lilvampirina ^^ @snowprincesa1 ^^ @dookiemeshibear ^^ @manuusrw

#☁ second week of kinktober 2023 #kinktober 2023 #bi han #sub zero #sub zero x reader #bi han x reader #mk1 #mk1 x reader #sub zero x you #sub zero x f!reader #bi han x you #bi han x f!reader #mortal kombat 1 #bi han sub zero

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haveyouanytime · 2 months

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jonathan crane taking care of you when you're sick

completely self-indulgent and probably not my best lol!! wrote this in an hour bc i'm sick as a dog

౨ৎ daily click to help palestine 🍉

One night, your throat began to feel sore. It should’ve been a sign, but you simply thought it was your allergies and the cold weather coming together to kick your butt for one night.

But as the night grew into early morning, you couldn’t sleep as the sore throat added on a headache, aching muscles, chills, and sweats. After having the worst chills, making your entire body even more sore-- you were now flushed, warm to the touch, and beginning to sweat.

Luckily for you, your boyfriend was a walking freezer.

You lay beside Jonathan on your shared bed, tucked into his bare chest in just your tank top and underwear, after you had stripped off your clothes following your sudden sweats. Jonathan had done the same, lying beside you in just his pajama bottoms. It was a complete 180 to just moments before, with you layered up and wrapped in two or three blankets to fight off your trembling chills.

All those winter nights you spent pawing at his chest, trying to put as much space between you and his icy hands as possible were far gone; instead, you grabbed his hand and placed it atop your head as a makeshift cold compress.

He chuckled, holding his hand to your forehead as he sat up on one elbow beside you. “Remember not even an hour ago when you told me to not touch you?”

“That was before I felt like I was put in an oven.” You responded, your voice weak with your fatigue and discomfort. Your brows were furrowed, and he wiped away the forming sweat forming at your hairline.

Unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend had a secret side-- he secretly liked seeing you writhe and in some state of pain. He looked down at you, watching as you showed visible discomfort while curling into him, caught in his imagination of what it would be like with you under his fear toxin.

That was, until, your soft mewl of discomfort pulled him from his thoughts. He gave you quiet, comforting shushes, running his cold hand through your hair. He readjusted himself so he laid down, resting your head on his bare chest. His skin was cold to the touch, consoling your body as your body fought against your flu.

“I’m sorry.” You broke the silence, your voice weak and scratchy as your eyes stayed shut due to your relentless headache.

His brows scrunch together, his crystal blue eyes flickering down to look at you lying atop his chest. “Sorry for what?”

“For getting sick, and keeping you up.” You weakly answered, placing your hand atop his chest. “I know you’re tired from work, and you’ll be tired-”

“Shush. I’ll always take care of you.” He answered, wrapping his hand around your wrist. “You’re mine.”

You let a small smile grow on your lips despite your discomfort, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck. “I’ll take the day off, don’t worry. I’ll stay home and take care of you. Just try and sleep, darling.” He whispers, letting go of your wrist to hold the back of your head. He watches as you slowly slip into sleep, pushing the wispy hairs back from your hairline and placing a soft kiss onto your forehead.

#blog:haveyouanytime #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane fluff #jonathan crane comfort #nolanverse batman

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cherrychilli · 11 months

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18+

AFAB reader, soft! Steve, breast massage, nipple play, pre-menstrual ouchies. Basically, your boobies hurt and Steve's ready to take care of you and make it all better.

A/N: I started writing this months ago and let it sit in my drafts for longer than I would have liked. This is very self indulgent because I have terrible mastalgia and I needed to write a little comfort drabble (with a bit of spice of course). Who wouldn't want to have someone like Steve around help to ease your pain? Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know if you did!

You didn't have to check your calendar to be reminded of what was now, by your estimation, a week away when you felt an all too familiar pinch in your chest. The first warning of what was to come. In just a few hours the occasional twinge progressed to an ache, warm and beating that stretched across your entire chest and left the soft tissue underneath sore. Your breasts always swelled before your period. That much you could bare to deal with but what made it all the more unpleasant was the increased sensitivity that accompanied it. Your breasts felt heavier than they had earlier in the month and the extra sensitivity only made you more conscious of your every move. Even with the help of your most supportive bra, every shift, every step, every nudge that caused your breasts to jiggle was met with a fresh wave of throbbing heat.

Medication barely ever numbed your pain and cold compress did nothing else but momentarily cool your heated skin. After enduring it for so long you knew only carefully working the sensitive flesh would alleviate the persistent gnawing. You tried to ease the tension with your own hands during the day as you attended to your tasks but any relief was always fleeting. With all the work you had to see to in-between, there was barely enough time to massage yourself properly and the times you were able to give yourself some extra attention, your overworked wrists would tire before you could quell the throbbing. As much as you tried on your own, you found that it felt far better when Steve took over for you, letting him gently knead your tender flesh while you were allowed to relax and melt under his touch.

You waited until he returned home from work, throwing your shirt off without a shred of hesitation moments after he'd walked through the door. "Baby", you let out in a honeyed whimper, pretty but he can hear the pain behind it, quickly realizing what had been troubling you all day. Concern for you was always at the forefront of Steve's mind of course. He was always sympathetic to your discomfort but he couldn’t help the excitement that spiked inside him when he found you waiting for him on the couch. You were a sight even in your current state. Your busy hands working underneath your thin t-shirt, only ridding yourself of it entirely at the sight of him, pleading with big desperate eyes and soft whines to have his hands on you instead. He had to remind himself to keep that excitement contained. At least for now.

"Come here, babe. Let me take care of you", he soothed, joining you on the couch and directing your attention to his lap as he pat it with a gentle smile. "Can't have my girl in pain".

You heaved a sigh of relief before handing him the bottle of baby oil you had placed on the table in anticipation of his arrival. You settled yourself on his lap with your back against his chest, letting out an appreciative hum when he pressed a quick kiss to your temple. You wait for him to pop the cap back on the bottle, watching the oil pour into the well of his palm before he sets the closed bottle back on the table, rubbing his hands together to coat his palms with the slippery contents. As soon as he parts his hands you're pulling at his wrists, bringing his hands up to cover your breasts. "So impatient", he chides playfully, letting you press them into your skin. "Hurts so bad" you groaned in reply, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of his warm hands on your bare breasts.

He took note of the amount of pressure you applied when you squeezed your hands over his, letting your hands fall away when he matched it. Steve was always mindful to start with light, occasional squeezes before gradually getting more firm. You rest your head against his shoulder while he props his chin on yours to get a better look, figuring out which areas needed the most attention. His fingers rubbed at the top of your breasts while the heel of his palm pressed into the bottom curve of your breast and kneaded upwards, gliding over your skin with the thin coating of oil.

"I know you said it hurts but, what does it feel like exactly?", he pondered out loud, wanting to understand how this all made you feel. Many words come to mind and you're unsure on which one to settle on. "Tight" you answered first before elaborating, "just, really sore and hot and tight. The kind that feels like it's cutting through you", you added just as another sharp pang flared in your left breast. You couldn't see it, eyes squeezing shut at the newest twinge of pain but Steve's lips fell into a little frown at that, feeling bad that you had to go through this every month. You relax your pinched brow when his fingers find the exact spot that was bothering you, working the twisting ache away carefully. "And how about when I massage them?", he asked again.

A smile tugged at our lips, already feeling the benefit of his hands kneading the tension away. "Mmm...kind of like loosening a knotted muscle and holding ice over a burn at the same time", you explained after a thoughtful pause. You can sense the frown on his face now. Using more pain to describe your relief might not have been the best choice of words you realize. "Really really good", you quickly substituted instead. You're making me feel so good, Stevie", you reached up to caress his cheek in thanks, a hint of stubble scratching underneath your fingers. His frown softened then, returning to the gentle smile that he had greeted you with earlier.

Basking in your praise was short lived however because it was impossible to miss the way your breath would hitch whenever he rubbed over one of the more sensitive areas with his chin propped on your shoulder. Alleviating your pain remained his top priority but the feeling of your nipples pebbling against his palms, the sight of your supple breasts in his hands and fuck, the way you whimpered and moaned right beside his ear made it difficult to keep his cock from reacting.

He grazed your pert nipples with his thumbs, taking in the way you shuddered in response against him before asking you if you were feeling any better, a wobbly tone to his latest inquiry. The answer was obvious yet he asked it anyway to distract himself from the way your ass had begun to grind against his stiffening cock and the sensation of your nails sinking into his thighs. He couldn't tell if you were aware of what you were doing. If you were just so lost to his touch, moving against him unconsciously as the pain started to subside. He only knew that if you kept this up you were bound to feel it soon enough. You hummed out a very satisfied ‘yes’, following it with a breathy request, one that made the blood rush to cock that much faster.

“So so good…but, I need a little more right here".

You reached up to guide his hands once more, grazing the pads of his fingers over your nipples again. "Could you-", but he was already following through without you having to say any more, gently circling and rolling your nipples. You let your hands drop, going limp against his chest with a blissful sigh. The extra sensitivity no longer plagued you, pleasure beginning to spark and heighten instead. Feeling a little daring, Steve applied the slightest bit of pressure, pinching the buds gently. He eased when you didn't protest, showing your approval by arching your back to push your breasts into his hands further. It encouraged him to tug on your nipples, pulling a high pitched whimper out of you next. The oil that had been applied to your chest had absorbed into your skin now, no longer a glistening sheen blanketing your skin, only leaving you softer to the touch.

"Stevie, need you to do one more thing for me", you let out, dulcet and feathery he almost hadn't heard it despite how close you were to him.

"Anything", he answered quick.

"Would you mind…using your mouth? I just…I don’t know- I feel like it’ll help…”, the meek lilt to your voice and the way your head ducked told him that your newest request had little to do with sating your original ache and had everything to do with a new one a little further south when he noticed your thighs rubbing together.

"Yeah? would that make you feel better?", he teased knowingly, beaming with a grin.

You nod, a little shy about it but mostly eager.

"Turn around for me"

You do so, catching sight of the outline of his cock as you move to straddle his lap, hard and more than evident underneath his jeans, just as you'd pictured it when you felt it beneath you earlier. You will yourself to be patient, directing your fingers away from his bulge for the moment, keen on letting him get his mouth on you first before you can return the favor. You fully intended on showing him how much you appreciated his help.

Steve takes a moment to stare at your breasts as you curl your fingers over his shoulders and ease yourself down. He notices that you're not wincing anymore when they jiggle as you adjust yourself in his lap and that makes him happy for two reasons. First, because it means he's lessened your pain and second, because it means that he doesn't have to be as gentle with you anymore. You gasp when his tongue washes over your right nipple before blowing on the wet skin, watching it perk up and turn stiff. Your skin tastes faintly of the softly scented oil he'd massaged into you. Not unpleasant. Subtle and tasted exactly how it smelled. He does the same with your left, watching the bud pull tight before he closes his lips around it. "Fu- oh, just like that", you moaned, eyes slipping shut as he sucked and laved at your nipples, teasing them between his teeth until the only ache left was the one between your legs and he had no problem taking care of that too.

#steve harrington smut #stranger things smut #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader

547 notes · View notes

for-ests · 5 months

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Suffocation: Gojo Satoru x Reader

Suffocation MLIST Summary: Gojo saves you just in time, and in return, you reveal the secret you've never shared with another. You then agree to go on a date with him. Wc: 4,606 Warnings: violence

Terror. All Gojo could hear was terror.

You had gotten into his head, and you were in mortal peril. His blood ran cold, realizing he was correct in his assumptions. He had let you leave against his better judgment, relenting to your insistence.

He would be damned if anything happened to you. The guilt would be too much, and he still didn't understand why. He was drawn to you in a way he’d never known.

Because of that unexplainable reason, all he had to do was feel for you. You were close enough; your emotions were loud enough. Your connection broke through the barriers, and Gojo could follow that tug through the compressed space until he appeared behind the curse that was currently forcing you to your feet by your hair.

Behind you was your flipped car, the back end of it flattened, the airbags spilling out of the shattered windows. You screamed out again and desperately tried to grasp onto the curse’s face, clawing it with all of your force. All you needed was one look in its eyes; you had to if you had any chance of surviving.

And you didn't even know if it would work.

The curse was laughing madly, seeming to enjoy your torment. "Pretty.... I can be pretty...Like human girl?"

Horrified, you thrashed against whatever the misshapen creature in front of you was. You did not know curses could speak; it was far different than any you'd encountered before. It was clawing against your skin, drawing more blood the harder you resisted.

"I-I..." The inhuman voice filled your ears. "I want...skin..."

Hearing those words, watching how it toyed with you, Gojo confirmed that one of Sukuna’s fingers was inside it. The curse probably sniffed you out the second you left campus, as his scent was all over you, and so was the proximity of Sukuna's vessel. If this curse were to kill you, it would follow your trail back to campus.

Legs kicking, you cried out. What angered Gojo the most was that your face was already bloodied, and your clothes were ripped. It touched you in a way that angered every part of him as if it wanted something more than just your power—the filthy thoughts of the demon.

Despite your predicament, you refused to stop fighting. You were almost there, hooking your nails into the flesh of its cheek, forcing its eyes closer to yours. You tried to ignore how its hands inched down your sides, latching onto the hemline of your pants. It was touching you all over, tainting your skin.

“Stop!” You screamed, the discomfort and pain catching up with you. As if finally sensing your motive, its hand clamped down on both your wrists and pulled them off its face. Any hope you had of escaping vanished. There was no way you could fight against six hands.

That was when Gojo stepped in. He knew you hadn’t noticed him yet, and the more cynical part of him wanted to see what you could truly do, but it wasn’t the time. You weren’t strong enough, not experienced enough. Only a second had passed since his arrival, but it felt longer. It made him sick to see you in pain, to see you fearful.

All those strange emotions inside of him bubbled over, and he reached forward to rip the curse’s head off with one swift movement.

It happened so fast that you were reactionless, only able to close your mouth before steaming hot blood was splattered all over you. You hung there, limp in the headless curse’s grip, blinking in confusion. Gasping, you felt the hands slacken around your frame.

And before your feet could even connect with the ground again, Gojo pulled you from the curse’s death grip and into his own arms.

In astonishment, you stared up at Gojo, then buried your face into his chest. It was all you could think about, seeking safety in his touch and presence. One of his hands held your face there, shielding you from the remaining massacre as he exorcized the curse, the body exploding out in all directions.

Hearing the squelching of mishappen flesh, you winced against him.

He protected you from the blowback, not wanting you to get any more dirty than you already were. “It's okay now,” Gojo whispered lowly. “Its gone.”

Setting you down gently, you kept your eyes shut and back turned as you found your footing again. Your heart was still hammering in your chest, the absurdity of it all crashing into you. You almost died, and Gojo had saved you just in time, eliminating a beastly cursed spirit within two movements.

But you couldn’t open your eyes just yet. You didn't want to see it. You could still feel the hands all over you, how helpless you were.

The sorcerer leaned down to pick up the only thing left—Sukuna’s finger. He shoved it into his pocket before you gained the courage to glance over your shoulder.

“T-thank you.” You managed to choke out, hurriedly peeling off your jacket to wipe the blood off your face, only to watch it bubble and steam into thin air, leaving you clean once again.

“I should have never let you leave.” His shoulders were slumped forward in shame, pausing for a moment, head turned away. "Knew this would happen."

You didn't know how to respond. All you could do was stare at the rips in your jacket, the fabrics far beyond saving. You bundled it against your fists.

"It's too dangerous for you," he said.

The sound of glass shards squeaking against concrete made you glance up timidly. Gojo stepped back toward you, closer to you. You could feel his eyes inspecting your entire body.

All you seemed to suffer from was a punch to the face that broke the skin of your cheekbone, with some deeper cuts along your arms and torso. Strange, as he thought your durability would be lower. Maybe, just maybe, you had other abilities that were invisible even to him.

Gojo grasped your chin and beckoned you to look up at him. The look of admiration in your eyes took his breath away as you parted your lips nervously. Why weren’t you afraid of him? Why weren’t you still shaken up from what just happened to you? Were you even in pain?

Safe. That was what you felt in his presence.

“What could possibly be so important in that motel room that you had to leave at this hour?” He asked, brushing his thumb softly along your cheek and wiping away the blood before he could stop himself.

Your expression immediately softened. The contact felt surprisingly peaceful, diminishing the lingering fear and paranoia that still danced in the back of your mind. Gojo's comforting touch alone was enough.

“I can show you,” You whispered with a tinge of seduction, leaning into his touch without realizing it and seeking comfort in his large, calloused hands.

Oh, how badly you wanted to look into his eyes.

Realizing how close he was to your lips, how he’d touched you so tenderly without asking, Gojo dropped his hands away. Your fingers had been inches away from tugging against his bandage. “I see what you’re trying to do.” He smirked.

“I’m not trying to do anything, Gojo.” You pouted, crossing your arms and taking a step back. “I would never do something like that without your permission.”

“Aha!” Gojo pointed at you, grinning as if he’d caught you in a deliberate lie. “So you thought about it?”

Laughing at the absurdity of it all, you threw your hands up. “You caught me.”

Good. You were laughing. And when you stopped, glancing at him with a shake of your head, he watched you smile. A smile that undoubtedly took his breath away. And for a moment, he was speechless.

He noticed that your lips were moving but could not register any words, only allowing himself a split second to fantasize about how they would feel and taste.

Then, the question you asked filled his ears. Why do you hide them?

He shrugged, releasing himself from the haze you seemed to cast over him. “Because I’m powerful.”

“Clearly,” you sighed. A moment passed where you seemed to gather your composure, not just from him, but from the fight you endured before he arrived. It was all too much. It was all too confusing. “Am I allowed to know the reason why?”

Feeling his gaze without seeing it, your heart skipped a beat. You remembered the brush of his finger across your cheek, the warmth of it, the comfort. How he’d come as quickly as he could and saved you. He saved you.

Your cheeks grew hot as Gojo gestured toward the direction of the motel. He began to walk, and you trailed behind him without question. There was no denying how powerful he was. A part of you then promised you would bother him until you learned more and understood every part of him. Even if that required you to share your dark secrets in return.

“My gift allows me to see cursed energy all the time,” Gojo said, glancing down at you as you approached his side. He suddenly revealed your purse, seemingly out of thin air, and outstretched it to you. “Covering my eyes helps relieve that stress.”

When did he grab your purse from your car? Your head shot back to the crushed vehicle now behind the both of you. Mouth parting in confusion, you moved to snatch the purse from him until he held it above his head.

Tsking at you, Gojo instead fastened it around the shoulder farthest from you. “What do you have in this bag, woman? It's heavy as hell.”

All you could do was throw your head back in laughter. “At least get the key out,” you replied, knowing that battling for it back would be futile. It was a kind gesture, after all.

The two of you strolled through the parking lot until you approached the room you’d rented. It was nothing special, definitely run down—but the hot springs had drawn you there. It was too bad you wouldn't be able to bathe in them tonight.

Gojo held the door open for you, flipping the lights on as you entered.

He only saw a backpack on the bed and a dark violet notebook on the bedside table.

“I didn’t think you’d be the type of girl to pack light,” he said, leaning against the door once it clicked shut.

Scoffing, you immediately walked to the table and reached for the notebook. Once you grasped it, your mood shifted into something more sour. “I didn’t think I’d find my brother so quickly and be attacked by a curse today, either.”

Gojo noticed, and for a moment, his confidence diminished. The playfulness that you reciprocated before felt like a guise. Were you really okay? He wouldn't have cared this much for anyone else, but with you—he did. Deeply.

“You’re positive you want to come back with me?” He asked, somewhat apprehensively.

“Clearly, I can’t be alone anymore,” you replied, knowing you sounded snippy as the words flew from your mouth. Even though you had every reason to be, it still made you stiffen. You weren't mad at him; you just felt helpless at the same time. You quite literally stepped into a world you did not know. And he needed to be honest with you. If he was what he claimed to be.

So, you turned to face him. There was nothing particular in your eyes, but your stare was enough to etch a reply.

“There’s nothing else for miles.” Gojo shrugged. "If you need some alone time."

You raised an eyebrow and slung the backpack over one shoulder, tilting your head as you crossed the room toward him. Of course, he would catch your mood shifting; of course, he would see that you were really not okay, that you were scared, that you found it hard to trust. At least he could be thoughtful when he wanted to be.

You looked up at him, opening your mouth to reply until he cut you off.

“Yes I can tell. If I'm around, nothing will attack you."

He was way too cocky, you decided. But for some reason, it didn’t bother you. In fact, the confidence suited him. The way he held himself was most definitely for a reason. And you would play along for distraction or not. If he could protect you in the way he claimed, you would indulge.

“I was actually thinking I would take your bed for the night, and you could sleep on the couch," you declared teasingly as he leaned into you, and you instinctively tilted your head up to meet him, lips inches from each other.

“Nobody sleeps in my bed without me.” Gojo smirked, the tone bordering on a dare.

“Even after everything I’ve been through today?” You bat your eyelashes, holding the notebook against your chest tighter. The door handle was an inch away, and your eyes flickered to it.

Strangely enough, the sorcerer noticed your gaze and the energy billowing from the notebook pressed tightly against your chest. Swiftly and without words, he turned, guiding you until your back was leaning against the door.

“Show me what's in that notebook, Princess.” Gojo set his arm against the door, just above your shoulder. He had trapped you. “And maybe I’ll consider.”

Your tongue nervously glided across your lips. “Get me out of here first-”

Breath stopping short, you felt his arm slide back around your lower waist before you could finish. Flirtatious that time, his hand on your hip was filled with tenderness, curiosity, yet patience. It wasn’t like the last time. There was no teasing behind it. Instead, he waited for your reaction to affirm he was correct in his assumptions, to see if you felt that other-worldly pull.

Through your eyelashes, you glanced at him timidly but curled both your arms under his, holding on tight. He better not drop you.

“Your wish is my command,” Gojo hummed, his grip tightening when he moved you as close to him as possible. The contact triggered the enchantment you refused to feel earlier, those uncategorized feelings that felt foreign and undeserved. An acknowledgment of your attraction, the desire for something more.

Voice catching in your throat, you couldn’t muster a reply before the ground disappeared from your feet.

What you witnessed in that split second was something you would never be able to explain. It was limitless power in its purest, rawest form. Lights and stars, neverending peace and tranquility. Across space and time, flashes of unnamed organisms. The essence of life itself was viable, but only for a moment.

It was all ripped away before your eyes could even comprehend what colors flashed before you.

Blinking, still pressed against him, you found yourself in a surprisingly well-furnished apartment.

“Wow," you blurted, eyes immediately finding a Star Wars poster framed above a leather couch. There was more, but your vision was hazy. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

And then it hit you, the nausea, the prickling of skin, the beauty of what you’d experienced. Words were unavailable to you at that moment. Your mind was racing, and your heart was still pounding.

Peering up at him with wide, sparkling eyes, you remembered just how close you were to him, how safe you felt in his arms, how comfortable it was to feel his hands around your hips. “What in the absolute fuck was that?” You breathed, gathering what you'd seen faster than anyone else who had witnessed his domain.

He chuckled, letting his arms fall away, giving you your space. Gojo scanned your body language and debated if he should teleport a trashcan before you.

“I’m fine,” you chuckled light-heartedly, letting the backpack slide off your shoulders.

Could you read his mind? It seemed so with how witty you were. No woman had ever been able to deal with his bashful humor, let alone read his body language so well.

“I’m not trying to tease you any more,” Gojo reassured. “If you need to sleep I won’t stop you.”

“No.” You rolled your eyes, snatching your purse off his shoulder. “I’m showing you not matter what.”

After rummaging through your purse, you pulled out an unusually outdated item. You held the quill to him, which seemed to have never been dipped in ink.

“Ink?” Gojo looked at you.

“Nope.” You popped your lips, finding the nearest surface which happened to be the island in his kitchen. A moment passed as Gojo watched you set the notebook down and the quill next to it. The way you moved was somehow delicate and thoughtful, yet he knew there were layers about you, layers he was desperate to peel back.

God, you were beautiful. Like the brightest star in the galaxy, seemingly so close but so far away—almost unattainable. As if it would take a lifetime to understand your intricacies.

You opened the notebook to the most recent entry. Immediately, Gojo saw the cursed energy woven into the pages. There were symbols and words, poetry and art.

Despite your previous confidence, you were now timid as you brandished your secrets, still debating if you should trust him even if it was too late. “I don’t even remember writing any of these. I sort of black out when it happens. I keep the quill on me at all times, just in case.”

“Why?” He asked, standing behind you, peaking over your shoulder with intrigue. He had his guesses, but there were times when even his extensive training and knowledge couldn’t identify or explain what was displayed in front of him.

Still unable to see if he was looking at your work, you rambled on nervously. “It never works with any other utensil. And if I don't write it out in time, I glitch in and out of consciousness until I do.”

Gojo was enraptured with your talent. Prophecy was rare enough in itself. But what stopped him short was how intricate it was. Somehow, your cursed energy was utterly mesmerizing. You were an artist, and you didn’t even know it. He hadn’t even processed what had been written yet.

“Months ago, I refused to write until I seized. When I woke up, 2 days had passed, and I wrote complete gibberish that filled the four notebooks I had in my house. And then I scribbled symbols onto the wall of my apartment,” you paused. "I was never able to figure out what it all meant."

Nodding his head, Gojo set both hands on the table, his pinky finger brushing against yours. “Do you remember what day exactly?”

“September 7th.” You looked at him hesitantly, on the verge of blushing.

That was the same day Yuji swallowed Sukuna’s first finger.

Pulling your hand away, you pushed the notebook to him and flipped the page. “I wrote this two days ago.”

The page would be blank to the average eye, but perfectly etched lines were visible for any jujutsu user. Other-worldly penmanship graced Gojo's eyes.

The goddess of the stars foretells serenity born from destruction

Reuniting a pair of powerful siblings, descendants of demonic plight

The white-haired emissary will reach fruition after trading souls

And when the moment comes that the sky turns a different blue,

The seer will reach infinity, guiding the new generation into victory.

Your finger smushed against the invisible ink. “That’s definitely about you.”

“Have any of these ever come true?” Gojo raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

You nodded confidently. “Every single one of them. But they don’t come often.”

A moment passed before he threw his head back and laughed, genuinely taken aback. “You continue to surprise me.”

“So, do I get the bed?”

The sorcerer closed the gap between you, the expression on his half-hidden face enough for you to understand that he was truthful with his words. It made you wonder how easily you could read him by looking into his eyes. You fantasized about their color, how they would widen or squint, how they would soften when he looked at you.

Deep inside your soul, you could feel they were doing that. You desperately wanted to explore that curiosity, once again leaning closer, waiting for him to take your lips.

“Maybe I want mo-”

Before Gojo could finish, the front door shot open, revealing a frantic Yuji. His phone was gripped tightly in his hand, flashing your text.

“Are you okay, Y/N!?” Yuji bellowed, rigid and ready to fight.

“Y-yeah?” You stuttered, immediately backing away from Gojo, trying to ignore how enticed you had been, how close you were, and what almost happened.

No. It was nothing. Nothing was going to happen.

Yuji blinked, glancing between the stances of his teacher and supposed older sister. “You literally only texted me help!” He shoved the screen in your face. “And you didn't think to let me know you were alright?”

Weird. You glimpsed the messages with no recognition, but the contact was visible, your phone number apparent. “I’m sorry Yuji.” You frowned, face contorting more than that, guilt and shame, regret. Of course, you would be that careless. And it did not reflect well on you if your main goal was to try and befriend your biological brother.

“I picked her up, no worries Yuji,” Gojo chided nonchalantly, stepping between Itadori and you. “I just brought her back a few minutes ago.”

“What happened?” He dropped his hands to his side.

“I was attacked by a cursed spirit…” You trailed off, trying to find a way to explain it all without sounding like you almost died. “My car is totaled.”

“WHAT?” Yuji yelled, mouth dropping open. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!’ You threw your hands up with a forced smile, letting out a nervous giggle. You pointed to the cut on your face. “Seriously, it’s okay. Just a few scratches. Plus, I’ll be staying here for a bit longer.”

Your younger brother studied your face before grasping your arms, holding them above his head, and inspecting. Just a few scratches, as you claimed.

“Why did you let her leave if you were suspicious?” Yuji turned to Gojo and questioned on your behalf. “She could have died!”

“I left on my own, Yuji,” you said. “He tried to make me stay.”

Gojo glanced between the two of you. He stopped on Yuji and saw how furious he was, and it made him feel incredibly guilty, knowing he had messed up. The fact it was with you made it harder to deflect.

And clearly, you were flustered and confused, not just because he was pursuing you but because your brother had caught you both red-handed. Not that anything was going on, of course. But still, Gojo felt strange, in the middle of two siblings, knowing more about the other than they knew about each other.

Both were powerful in their own ways without realizing their potential.

“How can I make it up to you?” Gojo asked calmly, turning to look at you. His heart panged the most when he caught your frustrated gaze. He would do anything to make it right and couldn’t fathom why. There was no logical reason for it, spiritual or not. “Yuji is right. I should have made you stay in the first place.”

Yuji’s mouth hung open. It barely took any convincing. There was no playfulness in Gojo’s tone either; he was earnest, and there were no excuses. That was rare from Gojo, and it was the first hint that something else was going on between his sister and his teacher.

A rare, almost impossible, and unique bond that he and others wouldn’t be able to understand. And because of that, Yuji couldn't think of anything to say. All he could do was watch.

You noticed the shock on Yuji’s face, etched in his expression. “Why don’t you show me around the campus tomorrow?” You responded to the white-haired sorcerer, glancing between him and Yuji for their reactions.

“I know you want more than that,” Gojo laughed, elongating his words in a soothing tone.

“Take me out for some drinks then,” you dared. “See if you can outdrink me.”

He agreed almost instantly. “Prepared to lose?”

Yuji blinked, finally butting in. “What is happening?”

“Nothing!" You blurted, almost stumbling on your words before you caught yourself. “Gojo owes me some drinks tomorrow, and I will hold him to it.” You smiled at Yuji, so genuinely and so heartfeltly that Gojo started smiling in return.

“Alright then…” Yuji surveyed you and Gojo, still trying to configure if he was making more of the situation. But he knew he’d seen you too close to his teacher. And the smile on Gojo’s face… was astonishing. His careful gaze turned into a glare as he looked at Gojo. Even if he had just figured out you were his sister, he would protect you with everything he was. After all, you were the only family he had left. “Don’t hurt her.”

“I’ll keep her safe,” Gojo replied nonchalantly. “We will see you in the morning, yeah?”

The dismissal was taken with grace and understanding.

“Of course Sensi!” Yuji rushed with a bow, abruptly turning on his heels. “Goodnight Y/N!” he added.

“Goodnight Yuji.” You covered your mouth to stifle a laugh.

Silence stretched longer than necessary after Yuji had left the makeshift apartment. Neither of you could think about what to say after that conversation. A stern yet laughable scolding from your younger brother.

Once you were certain Yuji was out of earshot, you glanced at Gojo. “Thank you for protecting Yuji when I couldn’t.”

“Go crash in my bed,” he chuckled, accepting your praise with a bashful over-stretch of his arms. “I don’t go back on my word.”

“Are you sure?” You squeaked.

He nodded. “There’s a shirt and shorts on the bed for you already.”

Your cheeks felt hot at the insinuation that he already prepared for your company.

“I’ll buy you whatever you need tomorrow.” Gojo winked.

Beginning to walk to the bedroom, you stopped under the doorframe. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me!” He laughed, kicking his shoes off and sinking into the couch. “You’re the one that’s going to have a huge car insurance bill to pay.”

“I take it back!’ You rolled your eyes, acting as if you were going to slam the door behind you but letting it click shut quietly.

“Goodnight Y/N!” You heard his muffled voice before noticing the lights outside shut off.

Like he said, there was an outfit laid out for you. And your backpack was somehow leaning up against the bedframe. You tried to keep your eyes from scanning the rest of the bedroom, deciding it would be something to occupy your mind tomorrow. You had been through enough today, enough to understand that your life would never be the same.

Stripping down and throwing on the shirt, you quickly got comfortable and snuggled into the sheets, surprised at how much they resembled him and smelt like him. You didn't know Gojo; he was still a stranger, yet the unexplainable affirmed differently. How much longer could you deny it? The proof was right before you, and it was clear when you glimpsed him.

Gojo Saturo was someone special, and you wished you had more self-control. Maybe too much time had passed since you’d even had a crush, let alone given in to the urge for physical pleasure.

Much to your dismay, you fell asleep with a smile on your lips, wondering if Gojo was comfortable, what it would feel like to be in his arms, all the while speculating what tomorrow had in store for you.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader

186 notes · View notes

beneathashadytree · 10 months

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SICKBED - MONKEY D. LUFFY X READER

Warnings : mentions of sickness and medications, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : fluff and comfort 🫶��

Word count : 0.9K words

Additional notes : I always thought that activating Gear Fifth would make Luffy ill, and this is my take on it!

Tip jar if you’d like to buy me a Ko-Fi!

Masterlist

As soon as they stepped into the Thousand Sunny’s infirmary, they clicked their tongue at the rather-predictable sight. All bundled up and swathed in a million layers of thick blankets, they could spot just a few tufts of ebony hair indicating that Luffy was indeed buried underneath all the cotton.

They pulled up a chair from Chopper’s desk (they’d be sure to put it back, though) and sidled up right against Luffy’s side of the bed. He seemed to be making no moves to acknowledge their presence, only small miserable huffs and whines coming from under the blankets. It took all they had to stop themself from keeling over with laughter at that, the part feeling sorry for him winning out this time.

“Honestly, what did you expect would happen, after going all out with Gear Fifth?” They shook their head, reaching out to pull down the blankets and finally see him. His forehead was lined with beads of perspiration, and his hair was somehow both mussed and sticking to his skin. “At least you look like you’re starting to sweat your fever out.”

Bleary eyes blinked back up at them, and if he didn’t look so pitiful, they would’ve called him rather adorable. If it weren’t for the fact that he had never gotten ill before, he probably wouldn’t have been in such a terrible condition.

“Luffy, you really need to sit up and take your medicine. Chopper asked me to do it for him while he tends to Zoro’s injuries.”

With a very pronounced frown on his awfully paled skin, he sluggishly pulled himself up, blearily blinking past the unconscious of his sick sleep. His limbs flip-flopped all over the place, barely scrambling to grab onto the glass of water they handed him—despite the alarming fact that his grip seemed precariously close to slipping.

Though he hated taking medicine in the forms of sticky pills that often got glued halfway down his throat, he clearly felt terrible enough to not say anything about that and quickly gulp them down and wash them down with the entire glass in one go, before falling back against the mattress with a groan of pain, surely caused by his sore body protesting.

Whining out their name, Luffy’s hands stretched of their own accord and latched onto their arm. “I feel like shit. Make me feel better, please?”

This time they couldn’t help but chuckle. Perhaps his clinginess made him a little more demanding, but they had no qualms indulging him a little. “I’m no Chopper, but that’s why I came here.” Prying his fingers off with much difficulty—and much protesting from his end—they turned to the bedside table, where Chopper had so thoughtfully left a cold compress on a bowl of ice for them to leave on his burning forehead. “There, there, you big baby.”

Patting it on his skin only served to make him scrunch his nose up in displeasure, and reach out to clasp their wrist as firmly as a sick man can. “I don’t want you to touch that wet thing. I want you to touch my head.”

“No can do, captain. Your hair’s all greasy and shit. I’m not touching that until you shower.”

His pout only grew worse, and paired with his slightly nasally voice, it felt like a double threat to their heart. “But you always run your fingers through my hair, even when I haven’t showered.”

“There’s a difference between not showering for a few days, and not showering for almost a whole month,” they snorted, before taking pity on him and ruffling his hair; the most they would allow themself to do without having to subject themself to the trenches that were oily and grimy hair. “Happy now?”

“I guess that’ll do for now,” he grumbled, slowly blinking up at them. His grip loosened on their wrist, and they could tell from the haziness of his dark eyes and the flopping of his legs on the bed that he was quickly falling into a drowsy stupor. “Stay here, will you?”

“I intended to do that anyways,” they reassured him, taking his hands and setting them back on the bed. Then they asked a question that most probably counted as taking advantage of his half-delirious state. “Want me to read to you?”

Luffy closed his eyes for a second, before he gave a slow, sage-looking nod. “Yeah, it’ll bore me to sleep.” Opening his eyes halfway, he pointed at a book on the desk. “Robin left this here when she visited Chopper in the morning.”

They hummed in agreement as they walked over to grab it and sat back down again. “She does have the best adventure book collection amongst the crew. It’s only natural that’ll be your choice.” Readjusting their position in their chair, they tucked the blankets well under his chin, reveling in the sweet little tired smile he gave them in return.

As they cleared their throat and prepared to start reading out loud, they watched their boyfriend with all the love and affection in the world, nestling into the soft pillows, and his eyes fluttering shut once more.

“‘I remember him as if it were yesterday, as he came plodding to the inn door, his sea-chest following behind him in a hand-barrow…’”

Taglist: @stories-that-shaped-me @wifeofkyojuro @livwritesfics

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nextlevelinjuryandpostoprecovery · 2 years

Text

Quad Wave Class IV Equine Laser | Quad 45W Laser Class IV Device

The Quad 45W Laser Class IV Device allows for accelerated healing, exceptional pain relief, and rapid post-surgical recovery.

Accelerated wound healing

Anti-inflammatory

Effective pain relief

Reduced recovery time

Increase in blood oxygen levels

Enhanced cell function

Our device uses electromagnetic rays at red or Near InfraRed (NIR) wavelengths. The laser enables precise and accurate treatments to reduce inflammation and pain, and promote recovery.

How it Works

The Quad Orthopedic equine laser uses diodes to emit InfraRed laser beams in either continuous or pulsed phases. The continuous mode enables a gentler treatment of more superficial conditions, such as tendon and ligament injuries. Super-pulsed mode enables intensive treatment, with the intervals adding safety by preventing heat generation. The beams are carried via a fiber optic cable to the treatment wand, which is aimed over the skin using the red light aiming beam. As treatment is delivered, infrared light penetrates the tissue, at the correct dosage, depth and duration. The light energy causes biochemical changes to occur at cellular level, stimulating cell proliferation leading to wound repair. Free nerve endings are also stimulated, blocking pain pathways and bringing rapid pain relief to the horse.

Technical Specification:-

GaAs diode laser with deep penetrating 980nm, 915nm and 810nm diodes.

Outstanding 45W power for rapid treatments in super-pulsed mode.

High powered Near InfraRed (NIR) laser diodes produce electromagnetic energy.

Super-pulsed output enables rapid treatment without heating.

Quickstart function enables optimum treatment times.

Fiber handpiece with 0.4mm spot size for focused treatment.

Operates within 5-40°C and less than 80% humidity range.

Main body input voltage DC 12V~17V, Power input AC110V ~ 220V ± 20%.

Dimensions 235 * 278 * 325mm, weighing 6.5 kg.

12.1" color touchscreen for microcomputer control.

Software updating through USB plug'n'play upgrades.

Operates within 5-40°C and less 80% humidity range.

Main body input voltage DC 12V~17V, Power input AC110V ~ 220V ± 20%.

Screen powered with Li-battery 4700mAh (2-hr working, 8-hr standby).

Dimensions 235 * 278 * 325mm, weighing 6.5 kg.

10" color touchscreen for microcomputer control.

Quad Wave Class IV Laser Equineee for Fast, Deep Healing

Superior device for the veterinary clinic, equine rehab or training center.

Instantly available, rapid treatment reduces downtime in sport horses.

Deeper, long-lasting rehabilitation from traumatic sports injuries

Improves career longevity by addressing distal limb stress injuries

Approved by veterinarians, professional riders, and equine physical therapists.

650nm wavelength: This wavelength is best used for wound healing and scar tissue regeneration by promoting healing of skin surface tissues. The wavelength is largely absorbed by the melanin in the skin, inhibiting bacteria proliferation and promoting fine cell growth.

810nm wavelength: This wavelength rapidly activates the hemoglobin oxygenation process to transfer energy supplies from blood into muscles and tendons. This promotes tissue regeneration and increases ATP production.

915nm wavelength: This wavelength increases the blood oxygen transport capacity facilitating release of nutrients needed for self-healing and allowing cells to absorb these nutrients.

980nm wavelength: This wavelength decreases pain via the analgesic effect by optimizing thermoreceptors and mechanoreceptor interactions with the peripheral nervous system. This activates the gate-control mechanism to produce the analgesia.

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luveline · 2 years

Note

Request idea!! Steve or Eddie w a girlfriend who gets chronic migraines??? Both of them would be so sweet and doting and soft with their girl!! Rubbing her head and comforting her through throwing up due to the pain

thank u for your request! TW for suicidal ideation and throwing up

Migraine doesn't feel like a strong enough word, in Steve's humble opinion, to describe what it is you're going through. Legs crossed in the bed you've barely left for three days, bent over at the waist, your hands pressed to your cheeks and your eyes swollen from all the crying.

You don't like to be touched during a migraine so Steve has to compromise, sitting on the floor next to the bed with his hand up on the mattress, fingers wrapped around the ankle of your pajama pants.

"You're seizing up," he says carefully. "Try and take a big breath."

You oblige him, shuddering. He can hear the telltale hitch in your breath before you throw up, climbing up on his knees to move the bucket back into your lap. You don't have much to throw up, a few mouthfuls of oatmeal you'd only managed because he begged you to.

The pain as you throw up is white hot, he knows, your hand searching for his and squeezing until he has pins and needles, so hot it keeps you basically silent until you're done. When you are you sob, breathless and tired and, worst, defeated.

Steve knocks away the part of him that's always so paralysed by your pain and instead becomes the person you both need him to be. He leaves for the bathroom and empties your sick bowl, cleans it out, grabs your toothbrush and toothpaste and a glass of water.

"Here," he says when he returns. "Have a drink."

You're still sobbing. It takes a lot for him to persevere without stopping to rub your back. His hands shake minutely as he squeezes toothpaste onto your brush. You've thrown up so much it scares him, but there's not much to be done besides countermeasures – keeping you hydrated, taking care of your poor mouth, anything to keep you going until the pain abates.

You drink your water and tears rush down your face in fat drops.

"Stevie," you say after a small sip, "I can't do this."

"You can."

"I just wanna die."

"I know. Here," he says, handing you your toothbrush. "Spit in the bucket. I'm gonna go get another ice pack, okay? A minute, tops."

He feels evil for leaving you, fast down the stairs to the freezer for the ice pack, wrapping it up in a soft hand towel. Your words repeat in his head. I just wanna die. I just wanna die.

"Out of ten, baby, how bad is it?" he asks at the door, risk assessing. Wondering if you need to go to the ER.

"Nine."

He chews his cheek and sits at your legs, offering you the cold compress. You take it and press it to your head. He wipes his hand down your cheek softly, clearing up the smudge of your tears.

"Do you want me to take you to the ER? Because I will. If you need to go, we'll go," he says, trying to keep his voice calm. Steady.

"There's nothing they can do," you whisper.

"I know," Steve whispers back. Though maybe they could be persuaded to let you take some oramorph. Or ketamine.

"There's nothing they can do," you repeat.

Steve moves the bucket off of the bed and sits beside you tentatively. You place your hand at the crook of his elbow and follow down, your palms clammy, boiling hot as they slide down to his wrists and then his thigh.

"I'm sorry for saying that," you murmur. "You don't have to worry."

"When you last had painkillers, do you remember which ones they were?" he asks.

"I'm sorry."

"Baby." Steve covers your hand with his. "Come on. Don't be sorry. You're in a lot of pain right now. I'm not gonna hold you to anything you say, alright? And," his voice drops to an almost indecipherable volume, "if you want to? I don't blame you, but it would, like, jackhammer my heart into crumbs."

You sniffle.

"You're okay," he says.

"Yeah."

"How's it feel now?"

"Like an eight."

"That's better. Try and keep breathing slow."

You spend long minutes calming down. Eventually you lie down. Steve moves your pillow and blanket yo get you comfortable and turns on the desk fan to soothe your sweaty skin.

"Will you come lie down with me?" you ask weakly.

"Been waiting all day for that question," he says, smiling wide.

You moan to yourself as he cuddles in close but cautious, turned on his side, his arm thrown over your abdomen. "Is this okay?" he asks.

"Yeh." You turn your neck slowly. "I know I'm gross right now…"

"You're not," he says adamantly.

"Liar."

"I'm not lying!" He looks over your face affectionately. You're not gross, he's done a good job of taking care of you, if he might say so himself. "You want something. A kiss?" Then, at your guilty smile. "You want a kiss, babydoll? C'mere, I'll give you all the kisses you want."

He follows up his softest tone with softer kisses, planting pecks like budding flowers over your lips and cheeks. You smile despite the crease between your brows indicating what has to be intolerable pain.

"Love you," he says, an inch from your lips. "You're doing so well."

You raise a hand to his hair and pull your fingers through it. He shivers.

"Love you, too," you say.

He almost hiccups with affection for you, pressing another gentle kiss to your lips before dropping back down.

"Try and get some rest, yeah? Let's sleep," he says, pleading.

You nod, looking halfway there already. You won't manage long, an hour or two before the painkillers fade completely, but anything will help. Even in your tired, pained state, you still search for his hand like you do every night, still stroke your thumb over his knuckles until you're both sleeping soundly.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine

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radiojamming · 4 months

Text

Ice Mummies Ranked by How Well You Could Take Them in a Fight

I decided to use my academic interest in non-anthropogenic mummies—specifically ice mummies—to definitely rank each special case study in ice mummy-ology (cryomumiology?) based on the chance that you, my beloved reader, could take them in a fight. This exercise is based on the imagined scenario that each mummy has been brought back to tenuous life or animation and has overcome their causes of death to fight you back.

Notes: I haven't included any images of the mummies on the basis that some of them are nightmare-inspiring. Please use caution when looking them up to size them up for your inevitable battle. Also, ice mummies in this definition include both mummies found in glacial or permafrost conditions, but also mummies preserved by extreme cold.

(Special shout-out to @hollowtones for making posts about strong as fuck ice mummies and inspiring this whole thought exercise in the first place.)

Ötzi the Iceman - 5/10

You may possibly have a height advantage on the Ur-Iceman, Ötzi—he was only 5'3" (1.6m). However, Ötzi has a few advantages on you. Do you have razor-sharp lithic tools? If you do, do you know how to use them as well as a Chalcolithic human? Not only that, but Ötzi's got physical prowess and hunting instincts. Judging by his several dozen tattoos, he can also handle pain pretty damn well. You have a solid 50/50 shot at taking him down, but he's not going to go quietly.

Suggested tactic: Lure him in with the sweet, sweet promise of delicious cheeses and butters. He's lactose intolerant, so when he's doubled over and suffering, take him out right then and there. Aim for the joints since he's starting to show signs of arthritis. It won't be a clean fight, but mummy fights rarely are.

John Torrington - 3/10

You might have a height advantage against this whippersnapper, as he's roughly 5'4" (1.6 m again). However, he's young (19 or 20), relatively healthy aside from absolutely trashed lungs, and he's from Manchester. He's been spoiling for a fight since birth, and since he's a stoker, he's no stranger to physical labor. He'll also throw you off with his pretty boy looks—but make no mistake, he'll fuck you up.

Suggested tactic: Wait for him to wear himself out until he's a wheezing mess, then use that low center of gravity and knock him down. Or grab him by that Jacob Marley chin tie of his and fight dirty.

John Hartnell - 9/10

For once, he might have a height advantage on you, as this 25-year-old Kent-born sailor is a whopping 5'11" (1.8m). However, this sallow, willowy man was born with glass bones and paper skin, so it won't be hard to use his inherent weaknesses against him. He's fighting at a disadvantage with a sprained ankle, compressed lumbar vertebrae, necrotic right wrist bone, and lungs so shot to hell that it's a wonder he still has them (granted, his lungs are somewhere vaguely in the region of his stomach after a messy autopsy). It's more than likely you'll win, but the emotional toll of fighting this ailing man might be too much to handle.

Suggested tactic: Aim for one of his multitude of weak spots (ankle, shoulder, neck, chest, or messy Y-incision), or insult his mother. There's also a strong chance he's missing his left eye, so work that blind spot to your advantage. He's also not wearing pants, so make fun of him until he's emotionally-devastated.

William Braine - 2/10

Virtually no chance of victory against this guy. A 32-year-old Royal Marine, he's had plenty of experience training for this exact moment, and he's not going to let you win. He's also a towering Victorian height of 6'0" (1.82 m). Braine's had it rough in life and death and is also pantsless, but this Somerset native isn't letting that get to him.

Suggested tactic: He has a malformed spine from an advanced case of tuberculosis, so use that to your advantage. Other than that, just hope and pray for the best.

Kwäday Dän Ts’ìnchi - 1/10

It's not likely you'll actually be fighting Kwäday Dän Ts’ìnchi since he's since been cremated by his descendants, but on the freak chance he comes back for a fight, you're fucked. Coming in at 5'9" (1.75 m) and in his prime at 18 years old, Kwäday Dän Ts’ìnchi has a few good advantages on you. If you're fighting in his territory in Tatshenshini-Alsek Park in British Columbia, he can probably use the local terrain to his advantage, and did I mention he has a knife? He's also been on a protein-heavy diet of marine meat and caribou, so he's physically ready to put you in the ground instead of him.

Suggested tactic: Run for your life.

Siberian Ice Maiden/Altai Lady/Princess of Ukok - 3/10

Not very likely. She's young, she's in fairly good shape, and she's badass. This tattooed 25 to 30-year-old Pazyryk lady stands in at 5'4" (1.6m) but her presence is about twice that height. She's well-regarded in her culture, so even though she's dealing with some chronic pain, she has a whole team of people more than likely at her beck and call to do you in while she does something more important than dealing with you. She also has the advantage of grave goods, and might use her headdress and mirror to distract you long enough to kick your ass. Also, the presence of antlers in her group's grave material means she has access to plenty of pointy objects.

Suggested tactic: She was buried with cannabis, so maybe wait for her to get stoned before trying anything.

Children of Llullaillaco - 6/10

You can take these Andean kids on individually, sure—but would you? The youngest is only four or five, you monster. To make it a fair fight, take on the trio while we all make fun of you for fighting a group of kids. Granted, your chances of winning go down significantly if all three are present, as teeny-tiny El niño and La niña del rayo will distract you while teenage La doncella shoves you off the side of the mountain. Also, La niña del rayo was struck by lightning after death, so there's probably nothing you can do that can phase her.

Suggested tactic: Do you really need me to give you tactics to fight some kids? I hope they win, tbh.

George Mallory - 2/10

The Crown Prince of the Everest Ice Mummies, George won't let you take his title so easily. It took a mountain to bring this man down, and even then, he still kind of won. George has ice picks and axes on hand, and judging by the shockingly enormous amount of photographs of this man parading around completely naked, he's in the best shape of his life. Now, granted, he's had some bones broken since his fall, but I doubt he's going to let that worry him, old chap. He also might hypnotize you with his aforementioned naked ass.

Suggested tactic: Do not look at the ass. The ass is the way to your destruction. Focus on his shattered bones and bruised ribs, or try to get him to fall off the mountain again.

#mummies #ice mummies #this is a non-exhaustive list tbh

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dragonfirerogue-writes · 1 year

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Hi! I had this idea stuck in my head for a while. What if Miss Thornhill forced the reader to go against Wednesday when she realized that the reader had feelings for her?

A/N: I dunno if this quite hits your request, but it kinda ran away from me at a point lol

Wednesday x GN!Reader

Groans echo in the small room. Sweat soaked your clothes and shackles bruised your wrists. All you could do was listen to the thuds of red boots as they pace the floor.

"You're more stubborn than I thought." Thornhill fills another vial of whatever she was torturing you with. "I know you know more than you're telling me."

"I'm telling you all I know," you cry out. "Wednesday doesn't see me as a confidant." You grunt in pain as she kicks you.

"I thought I told you to get closer to her. You like her don't you? It should be easy."

A soft sob slips out and Thornhill slips into her motherly persona.

"Oh honey. It'll all be worth it in the end. I'll even spare Wednesday her life so you can have her." She sticks a needle in your neck and empties its contents. "But maybe this will remind you that I won't accept failure anymore.

Pain sinks into your veins as the poison takes effect. Screams echo, making the walls rattle. Thornhill leaves you thrashing on the ground and you black out in agony.

-----+++++-----

When you come back to consciousness, you're trudging towards your dorm room at Nevermore. It isn't clear how you made it here. You were just on autopilot. Whatever Thornhill shot in you still pulsed in your veins. The pain, while dulled immensely, still ripped through your body. You just hope you didn't run into anyone before you made it to your room.

Of course, your luck was shit recently.

The one person you especially wanted to avoid rounded the corner and dark eyes pierced through you. You could only manage a weak grimace in greeting.

"H-hey, Wednesday."

The goth watches your posture. The way you used the wall to hold up the near entirety of your weight. The sweat raining down your face from exertion. The way your breathing makes your entire body heave. After some silence, the girl turns around and goes back the way she came. You let out a sigh of relief only to see Wednesday come back with Enid in tow.

"Carry them to our room," she commands. "Something is going on and I intend on finding out."

"Did you really just bring me here to be the muscle?"

The withering glare sent her way answers Enid's question and she picks you up with an apology. You're far too weak to even resist.

You find yourself in Enid's and Wednesday's shared room. On Wednesday's own bed no less. The wolf whines softly and looks at you worriedly while Wednesday tries to deduce what was wrong with you. It takes a while, but you manage to get the strength back to say more than two words.

"It's poison that was injected straight into my veins." You lean your head to show the needle prick on your neck. "I was tortured. Been getting tortured."

"By who? And why?"

Your mouth opens to answer Wednesday. You try, but nothing comes out. Only a groan triggered by memories of your pain. Your body begins to writhe from the phantom pains. You feel a cold compress on your forehead. Thing was gently taking care to calm you down. It takes only a few moments for you to calm down.

"Enid, Thing. Leave us alone."

Both look at Wednesday before slowly leaving. Once the door closes, the goth's attention immediately presses onto you. Your fear of more torture makes you shake uncontrollably. Wednesday was capable of so much and you were terrified to become another victim. Tears start to fall from your eyes.

"P-please... I don't want to hurt again..."

Wednesday's eyes soften slightly at the sight of you. She was used to seeing you more upbeat. You would often invade her space just to be near. For some reason, you liked having her around and she had gotten used to it. Seeing you like this was abnormal. She didn't like it one bit.

Recently, the goth noticed you trying to keep your distance, yet also involve yourself in her investigations. While she appreciated your help, the constant push and pull made you suspicious to her. One way or another, she'll figure out why.

You felt a hand on your forehead before it starts running down your hair. You stifle a cry. Wednesday's voice, though soft, cuts through to you.

"I don't intend to hurt you, Y/N. Whether you tell me what you know or not." She pulls her chair closer to you. "Priority right now is your well being."

She continues her ministrations and it soothes you. You still didn't trust your voice, but you wanted to help Wednesday. Even with all the torture you suffered, you would push back against Ms. Thornhill until the end. With a wince, you slowly reach into a hidden pocket in your jacket and pull out a vial of blue liquid. Wednesday stops her hand and widens her eyes.

"That's nightshade. Why do you have it?"

You hand her the vial. Taking deep breaths, you pushed through to answer.

"I was supposed to use it on you. To get you out of the way. At least after getting your blood."

"My blood?" You nodded.

"I don't know why, I swear. That's all I was told." Tears start to fall again as fear of punishment engulfs you again. Wednesday moves to soothe you again.

"I believe you. Do you know who did this?" Another nod.

"I-it was Ms. Thornhill." Even saying her name aloud made you shiver. "She found out about my feelings for you. Wanted to use it to get to you."

That news surprised Wednesday. You had feelings for her? Everything makes sense now. All of your actions come to the forefront of her mind as she analyzes your relationship with her. Her face hardens when a new goal is added to her list.

"We will talk about those... Feelings at another time." She softly caresses your cheek. "For now, rest. And I will make sure Thornhill pays for what she did to you."

For the first time in a long while, you smile. Wednesday will surely be true to her word.

#a dragon tries to write #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday (netflix)#asks #requests

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uncanny-tranny · 5 months

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Some tips I've found which actually help me, as somebody with periodic elbow, shoulder, and finger pain when crocheting:

Choosing smaller projects, or projects that recommend hooks that are 5.00mm, as larger hooks trigger pain

Wearing compression gloves when my hands get too cold to function (stylish! Mine have copper infused in them, but I don't think it's necessary at all)

Figuring out which material in yarn helps with pain and how tiring your craft is

Unfortunately, take breaks

Try being realistic about what you are willing to sacrifice and risk in terms of pain. There will be times where you cannot do something without risk, and being able to weigh out your willingness for risk can be crucial.

(From what I have heard) use pillows to prop up yourself if you're sitting for a project may help reduce some pain

Your enjoyment > anything else

Hand and wrist stretches that are accessible to you

If anybody has things that help them, share it! I limited it to my perspective as somebody who has aches and pains in the arm I crochet with, but this is not limited to either pain nor crochet. Accessibility in crafts is imperative, and we can all help in making resources for people to learn from <3

#art #fiber art #crochet #disability #i dont think my own pain in this is disabling /but/ i think it could be useful to compile this list for anybody who is disabled by pains/ect #unfortunately crochet is very physically demanding and i think even abled people can find it exhausting #I don't think people realize how demanding chrochet can be even IF you're completely able to do it wothout struggle #also i don't buy into the idea that copper helps with pain - like maybe it seems too good to be true but it FEELS like pseudoscience to me #i could be wrong - i only got my gloves because they were fingerless and they were the only hand compression garments i could find in person #the funniest thing about my first project is that i'm using an 8.00mm hook and. OW. exhausting...

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herofics · 11 months

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Could u do headcannons on dating shigaraki,Dabi and mr compress

Some of this might be kinda toxic tbh, but it’s just my honest opinions on what it would be like to date them

~Mr. Compress/Atsuhiro Sako~

•Mr. Compress is very affectionate, and much more on the gentle side

•He’s always holding your hand or resting his hands on your hips, or somehow touching you

•He’s also very protective of you, but not so much possessive

•He’s pretty much always worrying about something happening to you, because you’re associated with him and people can be very vindictive

•Atsuhiro loves it when you call him by his name, because you call him Mr. Compress when you’re around other people, which is most of the time

•He also sometimes just repeats your name by whispering it to himself, and for some reason it always makes him smile

•You hold him when he wakes up from his nightmares and when he has phantom pains on his arm that he lost

•He doesn’t like sleeping without you, because he just feels cold when you’re not there

•Atsuhiro loves feeling your body pressed against his, just holding you close when he sleeps, it just soothes him

•He likes keeping you close, but he doesn’t want to make you feel like he’s chaining you down

•He texts you multiple times a day, but he doesn’t even expect an answer every time, unless he asks a question or something, he just wants you to know he’s thinking of you

•He sends you cute videos of animals or the occasional “I love you”

•Atsuhiro calls you everyday when he knows he won’t be seeing you, he just wants to hear your voice, even if it’s just for a moment

•He isn’t the jealous type, but if he gets bad vibes from a person you interact with regularly, he will let you know, this man just wants to keep you safe

•He feels responsible for your safety and wellbeing and he always wants you to be happy

•He is bad at arguing, and he doesn’t get angry easily, so most of your fights/arguments are very tame

•It never escalates to a screaming match, and you always apologize to each other if you say something hurtful and just make peace afterwards

~Shigaraki Tomura~

•Tomura has like zero experience with dating, because obviously he has never dated before

•He’s also very socially awkward due to his upbringing, and he doesn’t know how to express his feelings well

•So when you started dating, he’s sort of bad at it, if that makes sense?

•He doesn’t know how to ask for affection, he just sort of takes it

•He always gives you a chance to stop him or pull away, he’s not a savage, but he is quite needy

•He loves cuddling with you while he plays his games, you’re just sitting on his lap, or on the floor between his legs with him resting his chin on top of your head

•He barely sleeps as it is, but now that he’s gotten used to sleeping with you in his arms, he can’t sleep without you

•He was pretty insecure about kissing you at first, because of his scarred and chapped lips, but since you didn’t seem to mind it, he stopped caring

•Especially after Tomura gained better control of his quirk, he loves simply touching you

•Things like holding your hand, grabbing your ass or pinning you against the wall by your wrists are some of his favorite things to do

•What ensues after pinning you to the wall varies depending on his mood, but he of course doesn’t do anything you don’t want him to

•On the contrary, he loves to make you beg

•He can be a bit pushy sometimes, and you have to make your boundaries very clear to him and hold onto them

•He might sometimes get a bit annoyed if you deny him, and he doesn’t always understand why you do that, but as long as you’re patient with him and explain it to him, he’ll get it eventually

•When Tomura gets angry, he can be really fucking mean and nothing is off limits

•He doesn’t hurt you physically, but damn he can say some really hurtful things

•And he is really bad at apologizing, because he hates admitting he was in the wrong

•So you will very rarely get an apology, if ever

•If someone were to check you out, or god forbid touch you and he were to catch them, those people would probably end up dead or at least lose a limb or two

•So possessive af, but he would never hurt you for getting attention, how the people giving you that attention end up though? Yikes

~Dabi~

•As I’ve probably said a hundred times before, this man is possessive as hell

•Like if someone were to touch you, they’d get burned

•He isn’t really protective, because he trust you can handle yourself though

•Dabi isn’t really a soft, gentle person, but he does care about you

•Even if it is in a kind of self serving way, and he’s really mostly looking for the relationship to benefit him, rather than both of you

•He’s very affectionate but it’s only when he wants to, if he doesn’t feel like it he will physically push you away

•If he doesn’t want you to kiss him, he will literally put his palm on your face to stop you

•He rarely says anything about it

•Or if he’s indifferent about it, he will just let you lay on him on the bed, while he scrolls through his phone or something

•He likes sleeping with you, but he cannot stand it when you hog the blankets, and he has kicked your leg and almost pushed you off the bed in revenge

•Dabi also has the habit of absolutely emptying your bridge when he comes over, because he’s always hungry and he only really cares about it when he gets free food aka raiding your fridge

•He’s a pretty lousy boyfriend to be honest, but he does show you affection and takes care of you when it fits him or when you really need it

•His idea of a date is just watching a movie at your place and eating take out, he doesn’t like going out and he can’t really go out in public anyway because of his wanted status

•He’s not very good at comforting you with words, so if you’re upset, he mostly just holds you and lets you cry or rant or whatever you need to do in that moment

•Sometimes it feels like Dabi loves to argue, like it might feel like he will just try to escalate the situation into a yelling match

•And he has this ability to say the most hurtful things so nonchalantly and it’s infuriating

•He doesn’t really know how to apologize so your arguments usually just end with him pulling you close and muffling your voice by holding your head against his chest and he lets you yell into his shirt

•He does say sorry eventually, but it might take a while and it might sound a bit insincere, even when he means it, because he has to always have that damn attitude when he says it

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