#havening techniques

[lllulllulllu]

Easy Exercises That You Can Practice To Prevent Stress

Sometimes in life it just seems like nothing can go our way. Other times it seems as though the weight of the world has been put on our shoulders. Stress is nothing to sneeze at and yet we all deal with it. This article will show you some ways that you can reduce the amount of stress in your life.

Limit the amount of alcohol that you drink during the course of the night when at the bar or club. When you consume alcohol, your stress levels will go up and you will become flustered quicker. Instead, drink soda or a fruit drink if you want to limit your stress.

Breaking big jobs into smaller chunks will reduce your stress in numerous ways! Most importantly this will make the job seem less overwhelming and more approachable; additionally you will be better prepared to actually complete the job in a timely manner. Failure to meet deadlines and fulfill duties is a major cause of stress so if you change your initial approach to a big job and can do it more efficiently you are one step ahead of the next one!

If you are tired of the same routine each and every day, then make alterations. Take a different route to work or eat something different to give you an alternative perspective towards the day. Monotony can sometimes make you jaded, which can lead to more stress, so try to implement at least one change each day.

A good tip that can keep your stress in check is to make sure you're staying busy. If you have nothing but idle time on your hands, you'll be surprised at how quickly you'll become stressed out. Having something to look forward to can make you more relaxed.

Follow these tips any time you start to feel stressed. One or all of them may work for you at different times, so see which tips work. Remember, stress is temporary. Keep in mind that even your current stress will pass, and soon you'll be feeling happy once again.

Read more here Havening Therapy

[kniightdoktoriineisnotactive]

Tips To Avoid Stress And Start Relaxing

Stress can take a unacceptable toll on our physiological, as well as, our mental health. The problem could originate at our workplace or in our home. By following the suggestions delineated in this article, that point of origination can be discerned and a plan of attack initiated that will make stress, a thing of the past.

A great way to reduce the stress that you experience is to reduce your caffeine intake. A large intake of caffeine can increase the levels cortisol in your body. Cortisol is the stress hormone in your body that helps to regulate many things including weight gain, mood swings, heart disease and diabetes. By decreasing your caffeine intake, you will naturally decrease your stress levels.

In order to keep your stress level under control, try screaming into a pillow. This will do wonders for stress relief, as long as you do not do it enough to hurt your vocal chords. Screaming has a calming effect that can almost be euphoric for some people.

If you're in a stressful situation, before you doing anything rash, stop and count to ten. This will give you a moment to relax and cool down. It'll prevent you from doing something you might regret and instead letting your mind calm down enough to make rational choices.

A great tip that can help you beat stress is to plan a picnic with someone you care about. Going on a picnic is great because it allows you to be in nature, eat great food and spend some quality time with a special person. There is no better way to fight stress.

As promised, this article was full of information on how you can deal with the stress in your life and how you can avoid letting it get that bad in the future. If you know how to recognize and stop it early, you will be a happier, more at ease person.

Read more here Havening Technique

[yuuugay]

Greatsword kid Caine Tavadon and Unbrella/Lance hybrid user Shery lineart :)))))

[livingwellnessblog]

Exploring the Havening Technique

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

i’ll relearn love at our kitchen table ; satoru gojo

synopsis; satoru doesn’t quite know what love is supposed to feel like. but if it means coming home to you, it can’t possibly be that much of a curse.

word count; 4.9k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, satoru gojo vs. the mortifying ordeal of being loved, fluff fluff fluff!!, a hint of angst if you reeeaallyyy squint, gojo’s pov, the babygirlification of satoru gojo, i just think being babied would fix him <33

a/n; i wanted to write something for suguru or shoko but this man is genuinely holding my brain hostage atp so more satoru fluff it is!! physically i could write gojo angst yes but emotionally? imagine the toll…

when satoru steps over the threshold to your apartment, he’s downright exhausted.

it’s a heavy kind of fatigue, a little sickening. the kind that seems to sneak its way into his bones, crawl its way under his skin. dragging him down, down, down.

a yawn slips from his lips.

the mission itself wasn’t too tough — anything is a breeze for satoru gojo, that fact needs no elaboration. this one was just a little more taxing than usual, slightly more important, which meant he had to deal with the technicalities of it all. had to listen to the elders go on and on about the importance of discretion, about finishing things swiftly and efficiently, and something else he didn’t stick around long enough to hear.

and the curse? a small fry, really. nothing worth fussing over. but it was annoying, with that irritatingly effective barrier technique. how long did he have to stay inside that goddamn veil before it let him get close enough to land a hit? 

satoru doesn’t want to think about it, can’t be bothered to figure it out when all he wants is to collapse into the warm comfort of a soft mattress. all he knows is that when it finally lifted, the night sky was the only thing he could see. a vacuum of stars — taunting in its perpetuity.

so, with all that being said; to say satoru feels a little worn out might be a bit of an understatement. 

hair slightly tousled, eyelids heavy with sleep-deprivation, he slumps against the wall and allows himself to simply breathe. a soft groan flows from his parted lips as he stretches idly, a small respite for his stiff and achy joints, his tired muscles. 

it’s been a long day. but satoru still finds it in him to exhale a relieved breath, to drag his blindfold down to his neck and kick off his shoes.

because it’s been a long, long day — but now he’s finally home.

(not just a house, not just an apartment, but a home. a place of comfort and belonging. satoru didn’t think that was a luxury he would ever be able to afford.)

the moment he lets the door close behind him, a particular scent greets him. soothing in its familiarity, the only thing in his life that never seems to change; a blend between fresh laundry, and watered houseplants, and something that smells a bit like honey. maybe even sweeter than usual, though satoru chalks that up to his mind playing tricks on him. 

it’s nice. so nice. coming back to something warm and real, a respite from his hectic work. a safe haven, of sorts, one that hasn’t been taken from him just yet.

satoru likes to think of your front door as a threshold between realms, a gap between within and without. one is dark in its saturation, plagued by that never-fading smell of iron, while the other is simply warm. sacred in its normalcy. 

everything looks just as it should, the same as when he rushed out this morning; a fluffy blanket draped over the couch haphazardly, that soft golden light streaming out from the kitchen, your shoes by the front door.

satoru blinks, drowsily.

wait.

why is the kitchen light still on?

as if his eyes could ever deceive him, satoru rubs the skin under them groggily — blinking once, then twice. 

yep, it’s still there — that soft fluorescent glow. a sight he’s come to associate with breakfast and dinner and a mellow kind of love, laughter shared over warm meals made by human hands. food tastes better, satoru has come to realize, when you have someone to eat it with. 

ah, but it’s odd. did you forget to turn the lights off? that’s not very like you. 

as if possessed by a strange, irresistible longing, his feet carry him to the kitchen in question. undeniably groggy, his uncoordinated steps are riddled with fatigue, but the yearning in his chest compels him to move forward anyway — a kind of yearning he only fully understands when he enters the space, and sees you slumped over the table, a familiar flicker of cursed energy capturing his attention.

you’re asleep.

satoru stills, where he stands by the threshold between the kitchen and the living room.

everything looks the same as always — cookie jars placed on the highest shelf to give him an excuse to help you reach them, origami made from newspapers he never bothers to read anyway, a vase standing proudly on the kitchen counter, stuffed with fresh flowers he bought for you two days ago. 

the red roses still haven’t wilted, shining in the blue of the moonlight flickering in. good. they’re pretty, but maybe next time he should get you something more original. maybe some sunflowers, something that could rival the brightness of your smile. do they even sell sunflowers this time of year? if you were awake, satoru would ask you, even though you always tell him to just google it —

but you're not awake. you’re fast asleep, cheek squished against the kitchen table, snoring softly.

satoru feels his mood lift at the sight alone, and suddenly he doesn’t feel as tired anymore. something soft and almost otherworldly sprouts in his chest, as he takes you in, stepping closer. almost giddy, just to see you up close.

you look so peaceful and relaxed, so content. elbows resting on the table as soft little breaths fall from your parted lips; he spots a bit of drool on the corner of your bottom lip, gaze fond as he wipes it away with his thumb. he can’t resist the urge to poke your cheek, and it makes you stir ever so slightly — lips curling up into something akin to a sleepy smile.

satoru grins.

(you’re so cute.)

despite his fatigue, he hears himself chuckle, all soft and amused and a little bit lovesick. it comes to him so easily, when he’s with you; that upturn of his lips, the butterflies in his stomach.

satoru is still getting used to it. this cotton candy sweet, light as a feather kind of love. the kind that always feels like spring. but with every day that passes, the life he has with you becomes a little easier to digest. his future with you becomes a little easier to visualize.

yeah, he thinks. he could get used to this. coming home to you.

a soft smile, as he exhales a somewhat exasperated breath. you really shouldn’t be sleeping out here, though. silly.

satoru leans forward, inching closer to your pretty, sleeping face — he almost feels bad, waking you up like this. but he wants to hear your voice so badly.

so he cups your cheek, cold skin meeting warm, his hands still lingering with the bite of the midnight air. his fingertips tingle, buzzing with the body heat that trickles from your veins to his — one single touch is all it takes for him to soften.

the word that falls from his lips breaks the peaceful silence of the kitchen, breathing life into the moment. whispered into your ear, causing your brows to furrow as you gently slip from sleep’s embrace.

“baby…” 

satoru is smiling, when your eyelids flutter open. a sincere smile, reserved for you and his students. bathed in the mellow hue of the kitchen lamp’s illumination, a soft glow curls around the strands of his white hair, creating a halo of artificial light.

blinking sleepily, you gaze at him in silence. something shines in your eyes, something satoru tentatively recognizes as adoration. and he gazes right back at you, with heavy-lidded eyes and a lopsided smile. teasing, lighthearted. thumb smoothing over the apple of your cheek.

then he grins, hopelessly endeared. ”hey there, sleeping beauty.”

a yawn tumbles from your lips, and you lift yourself up. leaning into his touch. “toru…” you mumble, voice a little raspy but still oh so sweet.

satoru doesn’t say anything. he simply takes you into his arms, gently, touch so very delicate — as if you’re made of porcelain. and you just let yourself fall into his embrace, while he tucks you under his chin, safe and secure. 

it’s warm, he thinks. it feels right. complete, somehow.

and satoru thinks to himself that this must be what love feels like. what it’s supposed to feel like, anyhow, all sweet and light. all good and normal, something you never have to question. a cornerstone.

“you’re back…” you drawl, muffled into his uniform as your arms sneak around his thin waist. bringing him closer.

stroking the back of your head softly, satoru’s chest rumbles as he speaks, voice deep and a little raspy. soothing, a lullaby just for you. “yeah,” he hums. ”were you waiting?”

all you do is nuzzle further into his chest, cheek smooshed right over his heart; breathing out a sleepy little mhm that has him going weak at the knees, lips curling up helplessly.

“i wanted to…” you continue, stretching your arms a little to shrug away the remnants of sleep still clinging to your joints. “but i fell asleep.” 

satoru feels you move in his arms, until your jaw settles on top of his shoulder and you press a chaste kiss to his neck. an exhale leaves his lips, something tender in the way his breath wavers.

“welcome home,” is whispered, muffled against his skin. a sentence he never wants to go a single day without hearing. “did the mission go okay?”

he plants a kiss on top of your head, speaking in a low tilt, reassuring. “it did. just took a little longer than i thought.” a soft inhale, as he basks in the scent of your shampoo. “i wanted to text you, but the veil blocked my signal. sorry, sweetie.”

another soft yawn, and a shake of your head. “s’ fine, don’t worry,” you murmur. ”i’m just glad you’re okay.”

satoru chuckles. there’s a fondness to it, light. and then something else, something more heavy — it rumbles through his chest, almost like a purr, or a soothing thunderstorm. he can only hope it’s enough to comfort you.

“of course.” he says the words like they’re indisputable, like they’re written down in scriptures old and worn. cradling you in his strong arms, he pulls you closer to his chest. hoping you’ll feel his heartbeat against you, feel that he’s there. “i always am, aren’t i?”

no answer. only a tiny hum, absentminded.

and satoru knows, deep down, that his words don’t mean much. that a part of you is always going to worry over him, no matter how many times he tells you that there’s no need. that he’ll be fine.

the thought makes him feel a bit guilty. a little sick to his stomach, at the thought of being a source of your anxiety, the reason you can’t fall asleep at night — but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t also make him feel somewhat giddy. the thought tastes sweet, on his tongue, even though it probably shouldn’t.

having someone who worries for you is a luxury, satoru has come to realize. a luxury he has, now, one he hasn’t had since —

well. that’s neither here nor there.

(“be careful, satoru,” he recalls a kind boy saying.

but that was many, many springs ago.)

“oh, right.”

at the sound of your voice, satoru pulls away ever so slightly, gazing down at you. “hm?”

with a single step back, you look up at him. tilting your head. hands still resting securely on his waist, fingertips squeezing at his hips. lightly, affectionately. barely restrained fondness. ”have you had anything to eat yet?”

“yeah. got some takeout on my way back.”

satoru expects you to sigh in relief, at his instantaneous answer. you don’t like it when he skips meals, so these days he’s been trying not to do it as much. even though he doesn’t always have the time to eat properly, and even though the sweets he chews on between missions make him lose his appetite. but he makes an honest attempt, for you.

someone worries for him. someone wants him to eat well. that’s more than enough motivation for satoru gojo.

but you don’t exhale, and you don’t look very relieved, either. you look… disappointed. eyes suddenly glancing down at the floor, lips curled down into a barely noticeable frown. 

“oh,” you breathe. “okay. good.”

one second. then two. satoru tilts his head.

“why?” he stops to think. maybe… “did you make something?”

a certain recognition flickers in the depths of your eyes, and satoru thinks he must be right on the money. chewing at your bottom lip a little, you wait a moment before curling your fingers around his wrist — tugging him away from the kitchen table.

satoru follows, pliantly, until you’re standing in front of the fridge.

“well, um… here,” you mumble, somewhat sheepishly. fingers tapping at the handle before pulling it open. “take a look.”

satoru watches as the fridge door opens, slowly.

he blinks.

the first thing he sees is a single slice of strawberry shortcake. the strawberry looks fresh, glittering like a ruby on top of the softly whisked cream — and layers of sponge cake, that look like they’d melt in his mouth.

and that’s not all. there are a wide array of baked treats stuffed into the cramped space, protected by plastic wrapping and containers. everything from cupcakes with too much frosting — just the way he likes them — to chocolate chip cookies that crumble at the corners, satoru never seems to run out of things to look at. colourful treats, lovingly made and sitting right in front of him. it’s like he’s standing in a patisserie. they almost seem to sparkle, in the peripheral of his vision; glimmering softly, tantalizingly, like something out of a dream.

childish. that’s what nanami and shoko always call him, and he always protests, but —

maybe they have a point, after all. satoru certainly feels a little childish, when he realizes his eyes must be wide and bursting with child-like giddiness. a simple kind of joy, at seeing the ample selection in front of him. especially after that tedious mission prevented him from getting any sugar into his system.

”i did my best,” you mutter, sharing the sight with him as your eyes trail over a pretty bag of pink and green macarons. ”dunno if they turned out any good, but… i hope you’ll like them.”

satoru’s gaze flits over to you. 

he opens his mouth, and then closes it again.

”did you… make these?” a beat. ”for me?”

a blink. ”.. yeah?” who else would they be for?, your eyes seem to say. a little confused.

for a second, satoru can only stare at you. in complete silence, the tired cogs inside his head turning sluggishly as he thinks about the implications of that answer. and with a soft flutter, he feels his heartbeat pick up, warming him up from the inside out. 

you made them. with your own hands. you made all of these and you did it for him.

for some reason, satoru finds it oddly hard to speak, like someone stuffed a bunch of cupcakes down his throat. it’s weird — usually he can’t seem to stop talking, especially not when he’s with you, but… 

(something about this is just too tender.)

you must have been baking all day. no wonder the apartment smelled sweeter than usual, when he walked in.

as if itching to curl around one of the macarons, his fingers twitch, but satoru gulps and keeps them still. he wants to say something, anything, wants to thank you or ask why you’d spend so much of yourself on him, but satoru only stays silent.

and maybe it’s because he’s tired. maybe he’s just a little caught off guard. usually this wouldn’t be that hard to handle — he could just throw himself on you and shower you in kisses, show his appreciation with a flurry of dramatics and declarations of love. 

but right now there seems to be a disconnect, between satoru’s mind and body. maybe the mission drained him more than he realized. or maybe it’s more than that, maybe there’s nothing he can say or do; what words could he even begin to use to properly verbalize the emotions he’s feeling right now? how could his touch ever begin to measure up to the sweet sensation unfurling in his chest?

the silence doesn’t last long. as satoru stands there and spirals, you speak up, most likely chalking it up to him being too sleepy to react. 

”this mission was especially rough, right?” you begin, with a soft tilt of your head. a smile curls its way onto your lips, proud and sweet. sweeter than everything in the fridge combined.

one step, then two. you inch closer to him, until there’s almost no space between you — standing on your tiptoes, one hand on his shoulder and the other reaching for his head. smoothing down his tousled hair, fingers tangling themselves between the soft white strands and getting lost in them. and it’s gentle, the way you begin to pat his head, doting. 

then you speak. ”you did well.”

and it’s such a simple thing to say. three words, three syllables, but the words just tumble out from your mouth so earnestly that satoru can’t help but still. his breath hitches in his throat, softly, barely noticeable, but it’s there. that surprise.

he never knows how to act, when you get like this. patting his head and ruffling his hair like he’s something warm and sweet and worthy of love. something delicate, and not the strongest man on the planet. 

it’s so weird. you’re so weird.

(satoru leans into your touch without thinking, allowing his eyes to flutter shut.)

it’s perplexing, this feeling, and the fact that he can’t pinpoint why frustrates him to no end. isn’t this wrong? shouldn’t he be the one ruffling your hair, coddling you?

what formula is he supposed to follow here, exactly? should he tease you? pull away from your touch?

satoru wishes his six eyes could tell him the answer, but they don’t. they’ve never been very good with emotions, with things that aren’t directly tied to his suffering or imminent death.

(so ironic. all these eyes and nothing to see. they failed to see suguru’s silence, back then, and now they fail to see what reaction would please you the most. 

really, such a worthless ability to love people with.)

no answer comes to him. so satoru doesn’t tease you, and he doesn’t pull away.

it does feel slightly wrong, though. like this feeling isn’t something he’s supposed to have, there must be some mistake, he can’t possibly be allowed to feel so loved — can he? having you bake him all his favorite treats, run your fingers through his hair. praise him for working hard.

really. isn’t he being too coddled?

(… but it feels so nice.)

satoru suspects that there’s a lot to love he might not fully understand, just yet.

maybe tomorrow, when he’s a little less tired, he can try once again to give you the impression that he’s perfect. that he doesn’t need affection, that he doesn’t crave your support or your touch. that he’s above all that, the strongest, someone for you to depend on.

depend on him, while he depends on no one. that’s the kind of existence satoru gojo is. that’s how it should be, that’s all he knows, but…

— ah. it feels really nice when your nails scratch his scalp like that.

and suddenly, that’s all satoru can think. no more pesky what-ifs, or second guessing every good thing he gets. right now, it’s just you and him. your fingers in his hair, his footprints in your life.

satoru allows himself to melt under your touch, almost meekly. leaning down just a little further, to make it easier for you to smooth your hand over his head. he nuzzles into your palm with a happy little exhale, and for some reason he feels sort of bashful.

try as he might, he doesn’t manage to successfully shoo the emotion away, so all he can do is hope you don’t take note of it.

and you just continue your onslaught of affection, now ruffling his hair with both your hands, like he’s a big puppy getting cooed over. satoru has a nagging suspicion that you might be getting a little carried away, but he doesn’t stop you. greedy, in the way he wishes your hands would never leave his hair. the way he hopes you’ll never be too far away from him to reach.

”such a hard worker,” you coo, and he feels himself grow flustered. ”my baby deserves so much love.”

”woah there,” satoru chokes out, grinning, desperately hoping you won’t notice the red tint to his ears. ”are you flirting with me? i have a partner, you know.”

a giggle slips from your lips, sleepy and amused. ”oh, do you?” one of your hands goes to cup his cheek,  thumb caressing the edge of his jaw as you gaze at him fondly. ”lucky them.”

the grin you’re wearing is awfully bright. soft around the edges in a way that has him speechless, brain malfunctioning ever so slightly. satoru makes a mental note to scrap the sunflower idea — there has to be some brighter flower out there, one that can actually compete with your smile. sunflowers just won’t cut it.

but then you let go, and satoru gets broken out of his lovesick stupor.

when your hands leave his skin, his lips curl down into a soft pout. one he rushes to smooth away, before you can notice it.

you step back, failing to stifle a soft bout of laughter, but satoru knows it’s not because you saw it — he knows because your gaze is glued to his hair, and he internally winces when he thinks about how messy it must look, after your little bout of cuteness aggression. 

(you really are weird, finding him cute of all things.)

he expects you to tease him a little more, but you don’t, turning away and tapping your fingers on the kitchen counter. ”if i’d known you’d be home this late,” you speak, stealing one last glance at the pastries before closing the fridge. ”then i would’ve waited until tomorrow. so you could eat them fresh.”

an apology rests on satoru’s tongue, but as if sensing it, you rush to reassure him.

”ah, but this is fine too! they should still taste good!” you turn away, muttering. ”… hopefully.”

then you nod to yourself, crossing your arms absentmindedly. 

satoru looks at you for a second. 

then he steps forward, unable to resist the temptation — tapping at your wrist with the pads of his fingers, before gently curling them around it, coaxing you into turning your head towards him.

the kiss he presses to your lips is soft, delicate. his fingers trace along your jaw, cupping your cheek and tilting your face up slightly, just letting his warm lips rest against yours. sweet and chaste. he sighs into the kiss, content, and feels your pulse pick up.

then he moves down to your jaw, slow and methodical — lazy kisses, sleepy but so full of affection. and little pecks, scattered all over your lips, your cheek, the tip of your nose.

you seem to melt a little, against him, and satoru relishes in it; his ability to make you relax. far more valuable than the six eyes, he would argue.

when he pulls away from you, with what takes tremendous self-restraint, he’s smiling. his gaze meets yours, layered over with pure adoration, blue eyes crinkling as he looks at you. as if you’re his entire world. the kitchen light embraces him, cascading down the contours of his face; the bridge of his nose, the curve of his jaw, his barely noticeable dimples.

and there it is, again — that flicker of love in your eyes, that adoration. as if you’re looking at a painting, something too beautiful for words.

(satoru hopes you can see that very same adoration, reflected in his eyes as he looks at you.)

after a moment, he leans forward, to rest his jaw on the curve of your shoulder. you stumble a little under the weight, caged in as his arms hug your midriff.

”god,” he sighs, breathless, heavy with giddy disbelief. almost whining when he continues, nuzzling into your neck as if to hide. ”why are you so perfect, huh? i don’t get it.”

at that, you huff out a laugh, an amused little breath. wrapping your arms around his neck and scratching softly at his nape. satoru shudders just a little, arms tightening around you.

”stealing my line…” you mutter, accusatory, smile laced over with a honeyed affection. 

another amused breath, this time from him. this is one battle he won’t let you win. ”nah,” he grins, tugging you closer. ”’s mine.”

this is warm, he thinks. this feels right. complete, in a way that satoru never understood before you.

he could probably stand there forever, just basking in it. soaking up your body heat and the smell of your shampoo. until your warmth is all he knows, until he can never get your scent off his skin.

and satoru thinks that he could get used to this. a cotton candy sweet, light as a feather kind of love, one that smells like spring and tastes like strawberry shortcakes and feels like tight hugs shared in kitchens.

your love makes him feel so human. and it’s scary, terrifying even, but it's also too good to pass up. it’s worth the risk. so worth everything.

a yawn leaves your lips, suddenly. satoru feels you soften in his embrace, nuzzling closer to him, stumbling just a tad; he doesn’t think it’s fair, for such a simple gesture to make him as happy as it does.

”sleepy?” he coos, smile giddy and fond. ”let’s go to bed, okay? no more sleeping on the kitchen table, silly.”

a disgruntled little huff resounds throughout the air, as you let your arms fall to your sides. ”that’s on you,” you declare, poking the plush of his chest with your finger. ”i only fell asleep because you took so long.”

a teasing glint flickers in satoru’s eyes.

”wanted to see me that badly, huh?” he coos. you roll your eyes, and he pulls your cheek. ”that’s cute.”

”so what if i did?”

satoru stills. you’re smiling, a little mischievous, but mostly sincere. and it really is very unfair of you, he thinks — to do this to him while his guard is down. 

but he manages to pull himself together, raising an amused eyebrow and booping your nose in a way that catches you off guard. blinking up at him, eyelashes fluttering. 

satoru clears his throat. ”well, that’s sweet.”

then he turns on his heel, suddenly, and strolls over to the fridge. ”but you know what’s even sweeter?” he chirps, fingers curling around the handle as he swiftly pulls it open. 

licking his lips, absentmindedly, his eyes trail over all the different pastries. so close yet so far, just out of reach; his fingers move forward, towards that mesmerizing slice of strawberry shortcake —

”— no.”

a hand settles on satoru’s waist, and tugs him away from his well-deserved prize. taking advantage of his momentary surprise, you close the fridge decisively, and give him an unimpressed raise of your eyebrow.

satoru whines, loud and grating. pouting sweetly, trying to make you feel bad. ”c’mon, just one bite —”

”no.”

”but they’re for me!”

”they’re for you to eat tomorrow. i was only gonna let you eat them tonight if you were on the brink of starvation, or something.”

”i am!”

”so the takeout was a lie?” you narrow your eyes at him, suddenly suspicious. ”have you been skipping meals, again?”

satoru pauses. weighing his options. ”well, no, but…”

”— then no.”

another soft whine. you turn away from him, when he tilts his head and gives you his best set of puppy dog eyes. in fear of giving in to them, satoru knows, as you have so many times before. ”please?” he tries, to no avail.

”you’re not eating sweets before bed, satoru,” you deadpan, and his smile falls further, exaggerated. ”and no, we are not having that conversation again.”

he can tell you’re trying to sound stern, but a giggle tumbles from your lips nonetheless, at the ridiculousness of the situation. keeping a grown man away from your fridge, knowing that he’ll wolf down every pastry he sees and get himself sick if you don’t. all while the man in question whines at you in protest, frowing so deeply, disappointment evident on his features.

(except satoru really isn’t very disappointed at all. like this, he gets to stare at your smile all he wants, after all; knowing you won’t notice it, too busy trying to keep yourself from giving in to his pleas.)

he tries again, one last time. just because he knows it’ll make you laugh. you do, a little exasperated, and satoru couldn’t be happier. 

and he thinks to himself that if this is what love is, if this is what it’s supposed to feel like, then it can’t possibly be that much of a curse. 

maybe he should revise the hypothesis, get a second opinion. he’ll have to ask you tomorrow, over pastries and coffee, and hear what you have to say.

as you both stumble to the bedroom, sleepy and a little delirious, satoru thinks that maybe this is enough; the lighthearted banter, the fond laughter. everything good and real and normal, within the space of your apartment, a home he never thought he’d have.

(and maybe, a second opinion isn’t necessary, after all. maybe it doesn’t really matter if love is a curse or not, as long as he gets to share it with you, like this.)

that night, satoru dreams. curled up with you beneath the blankets, limbs tangled together, as if he could never be close enough.

he dreams of kitchen lights, of sweet treats and warm hands. of spring breezes, and a love he’s finally beginning to accept for what it is:

good. wholly and thoroughly.

[silkscream]

CHAPTER 3: TOO SOFT TO CHEW

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader

There’s a nasty thought in the back of his mind that festers every time he thinks about how much his skin longs to be in contact with yours. That someday, this fact will come back to bite him in the ass, that maybe he’s letting his guard down too much.

But that’s a problem for another day.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: smut (18+ mdni), bratty satoru, big angst, angry sex, oral sex (m receiving)

ੈ✩ wc: 3.3k

ੈ✩ a/n: i kind of hate how short this chapter is but it's a primer for the hell that breaks loose in later chapters. hope yall are enjoying kiss kiss kiss

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

September, 2008

The way Satoru wants you makes your head spin. Your encounters are irregular and almost always in secret. Satoru likes to show you different spots around town, secret havens where he doesn’t have to worry about getting interrupted. This is what he tells you – he doesn’t want to waste a minute with you. You believe him.

It gets unnerving when he begins to take you while you’re both in school. Sometimes in a single-stall bathroom, once in a supply closet. Every time, he makes you cum, and after you’re both spent, you walk back to class together without a word. He doesn’t touch you otherwise.

It contrasts the clingy Satoru that you get at home. He’s touchy, annoyingly so, as if he can’t stand to not be tethered to you for more than two minutes. He is infinitely suffocating and you are too infatuated to care.

When he’s entangled with you in his bed, you ask him a question that guts him.

“Do you think staying like this is a good idea?”

“What do you mean?” Satoru mumbles sleepily. “You wanna get out of bed?”

“No, I mean, this,” you make a vague gesture, “I just… figure that when we go off to different colleges it’ll be harder. To, um, hang out.”

“Huh? What college are you going to?”

You know he doesn’t mean it rudely, like the thought of you investing in higher education was something implausible. You think that maybe he hadn’t thought that far into the future when it came to the two of you together. It makes you ache regardless.

You tell him about the university you got into that was able to give you a scholarship. He looks at you like you have three heads.

“Don’t you want to go to Jujutsu Tech with me?” he asks. 

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you have a technique.”

There’s an awkward silence between you. The air shifts. He pulls you a bit closer, has his hand cupping your jaw. 

“Satoru– I’m not going to be a sorcerer–”

“Why not?” he yawns. “You could get in, easily. Especially if I have anything to do with it. And Shoko could teach you a thing or two—”

“Who said I wanted to become a sorcerer?” you blurt.

Satoru looks at you in disbelief with a hint of betrayal behind his eyes. As if what you say is preposterous, unheard of. Because where would you be if not by his side?

He argues with you about this. It makes your blood warm. The thought of having to follow him around. Forever stuck in his shadow. He was already blessed by heavenly bodies, Six Eyes and all. You were nothing.

You could never compare to the inherent invincibility of his cursed technique. No one truly could. Knowing how late your technique manifested makes you feel even more inferior. With your status in the world, a maid’s daughter, there was no point in becoming a pawn in the Jujutsu world. How would you make a career? How could you ever be strong enough to save anyone? And if you died, you’d only leave behind your mother. 

The wedge between you deepens after that. You realize how far away you are from Satoru on paper despite him aching for your touch, close enough to you right now as his breath licks your face.

There’s no resolution. It snowballs into something worse. This looming threat is above your heads now, a slap of reality about how different the two of you are. You realize it would be convenient for Satoru if the thing between the two of you ended. It wouldn’t matter to him – he had everything. He always would. You only had your heart and your dignity. 

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Satoru sighs against your temple. “We’ll figure it out. I really do think you should come to Jujutsu Tech.”

He shuts you up with his mouth, with his hands circling your thighs like he always does, the way you always let him.

November, 2008

You’re getting better at your technique. You think you could do just fine if Satoru wasn’t constantly breathing down your neck about it. Especially when he does stupid things to challenge your ability – absentmindedly burning himself on a lighter when he hits a joint, sucking in bruises into your skin that turn dark purple. You’re able to heal it all, but he knows you’re capable of more.

“C’mon. Hit me again.”

“You won’t even let me hit you!”

“Maybe you aren’t trying hard enough. I even let my Infinity down for you.”

Truthfully, Satoru lets his Infinity down for you all the time. It’s as easy as breathing to be around you, and he knows you don’t have the capacity to harm him. There’s a nasty thought in the back of his mind that festers every time he thinks about how much his skin longs to be in contact with yours. That someday, this fact will come back to bite him in the ass, that maybe he’s letting his guard down too much.

But that’s a problem for another day.

You groan in frustration. Satoru’s had you in his backyard for at least two hours, attempting basic combat with cursed energy. Despite claiming that he wants to train you to at least be able to fend for yourself, you think he just enjoys playing with you like a dog. 

“Why are we even doing this?” you complain.

“Even if you don’t end up a big-shot sorcerer, I feel like you should still be able to exorcise a curse,” he shrugs. You’re winded and Satoru looks more than fine. Even after all the athletics, he doesn’t have a hair out of place or a wrinkle in his T-shirt. 

“But my technique is for healing.”

“You have incredible cursed energy output, though,” Satoru says. “It’s why I could never believe you were just a Window.”

The flicker of Satoru’s cursed energy brightens, you notice. You blink and see a dark figure emerge from the side of the house. One with fox-like eyes and a warm smile.

“Satoru! What have you done to our girl?” Suguru bellows. He holds a bag of daifuku in hand, giving you one without asking before Satoru grabs the package greedily. 

“You know I like roughing her up,” Satoru shrugs. “She’s a big girl, she needs to be able to scare away creepy men, y’know?”

“Like who, you? You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not here, dumbass,” you chastise. 

“You could never get rid of me, Twigs.” He grins despite the cheekful of mochi. You and Suguru share a look of distaste. 

Satoru agrees to a snack break, if only to eat most of the daifuku while you make tea for the three of you. Suguru helps you prepare and clean up. It surprises you.

“Thank you, Geto-san.”

He tells you to call him by his first name and you try to convince yourself it’s nothing.

For some reason, Satoru is more rambunctious than usual. He almost always is whenever Suguru is around as if he’s waiting impatiently for something to happen. Waspish. Suguru often calls him a little brat. It’s nothing you could ever say to him, not in a way that has the same meaning. He’s the only one who can tame the beast. Satoru sees Suguru as his other half. Where one goes, the other follows. 

In the grass, they are an ouroboros of limbs as they brawl. Milky flesh flushed pink, gruff grunts and giggles. You imagine yourself between the two boys. You wonder about the taste of Suguru’s skin. If Satoru knows. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did. 

You watch them in awe. Two godlings entwined. 

It’s not enough to want to be in between them — and you know better, because you will never be them. 

“Tap out, Sugu,” Satoru whines. “I’m bored. Let’s train Twigs again.”

“She clearly doesn’t want to,” Suguru remarks, pushing Satoru off like a pest. He wipes the sweat off his forehead with his shirt, exposing his abdomen underneath. You feel like you should look away. “You like sitting in the audience, right, princess?”

Satoru grins at your reaction to princess. You hope the idea of calling you that himself doesn’t get into his head. 

“C’mon, Suguru. Throw her one of your curses. Maybe something without too many legs. She hates those.”

“Absolutely not,” you interject, crossing your arms.

“Okay, then heal me,” Suguru chuckles. He shows you a scratch on his forearm. “This motherfucker fights like a cat.”

“Acts like one, too,” you grumble. “A very annoying one that always wants attention.”

You heal him within seconds and he’s good as new. He holds your hand after, just for a moment. When you blink towards Satoru’s direction, he drops it. 

“You staying for dinner?” Satoru asks. He doesn’t look at you. He isn’t asking you. His gaze is on Suguru instead. 

“Nah, I promised Shoko I’d help her get decorations for the party on Friday,” Suguru answers. He turns to you. “You’re coming, right?”

“Uh—”

“To Shoko’s birthday party. I thought she invited you.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you shrug. Satoru is quiet, pretending to be distracted by his phone. “Satoru?”

“Oh, huh?” He looks up, feigning oblivion. “Yeah. You should come.” 

Maybe he’d forgotten to tell you about it. You swear he has some form of ADHD from how scatterbrained he is. 

Then again, you think about all the time you spend with Satoru. You’re always alone with him, with Suguru as an occasional buffer when he wants to be. The thought of Satoru’s arm around you at a party excites you. Would he hold your hand? Would he introduce you to other people?

“It’ll be, uh, here,” he mutters. “At nine.”

Oh.

“The theme is Scorpio, so wear something hot and dark,” Suguru winks. 

“A sexy little number with a bunch of legs and a stinger, too,” Satoru quips.

satoru: skip next period with me

satoru: wanna kiss u

One thing you’ve known about Satoru since he was a child is that he is annoying when he doesn’t get attention. 

You keep to yourself during the school day, not bothering to see him for lunch in the courtyard like you do every other day. You ignore his texts. You don’t look at him in class.

It’s the same behavior towards him from the last semester. But that was before he started fucking you. When he sears his gaze into your head during class and you don’t even bother to look up, he feels fucking insane. Of course, he won’t rest until he corners you.

He finds you later under a tree, cradled by roots. You look so peaceful that he almost feels bad about interrupting you, but he’s been bereft of your attention all day.

“You done giving me the silent treatment yet?” His voice booms above you. He tilts his head at you coyly. Hands shoved in his front pockets. 

You squint up at him from your position, startled by his arrival. You’re attempting to read your book in the grass, which isn’t half-dead yet. You don’t say anything as he sits besides you and fiddles with a clementine in his large hands. He peels the skin and feeds you a slice. 

“Wow,” Satoru scoffs, only mildly affronted. “So you’ll take my snacks but not text me back.”

“You offered,” you shrug. 

You let him kiss your neck, feather-soft as he pushes your hair to your back. You stay still and continue to read, despite his distractions. You try to blame the shiver down your spine on the cool gust of wind that passes and not Satoru’s tongue on your skin. He’s obnoxious when he indulges, especially when it comes to you.

“Are you mad at me?” he whines in your ear. Teeth on your earlobe.

“No.”

“Yes, you are,” he grins. “That’s why you’ve been ignoring me all day. What is it, baby? Wanna sit on my face about it?”

You roll your eyes, even though heat flashes in your center at his vulgar words. Satoru never took you seriously, even when you were kids. It seemed that he wasn’t going to start even now that you’re intimate together.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the party?” you ask. 

He looks at you and raises a brow, casually slipping another clementine slice into his mouth. He shrugs.

“Slipped my mind, I guess.”

“You’re hosting it, Satoru. You didn’t think to tell me?”

“I’m sorry. I just assumed you’d be there anyway since it’s at my house. It didn’t occur to me that you needed a formal invitation.”

It’s ironic. Because of all people, you would understand what it’s like to be separate from others, and he knew that. You never belonged anywhere, therefore you could never assume you were welcome. You were only at the Gojo residence because his family allowed you to be. You’re around Satoru all the time because he lets you. 

While Satoru has had his fair share of teenage hedonism, with Suguru and Shoko, you were never a part of it despite your proximity to his family. He always prefers you alone.

It stings. You wonder if he knows or if he’s just careless. You assume Satoru has never had to care about anyone other than himself, anyway. 

Unfortunately, he’s good at soothing your wounds.

You try to resist him, but it ends with you wrestling him to the ground when he tries to touch your thigh. His arms are pinned above his head and he groans when you grind against him. Already, he’s half-hard.

“Look at you,” Satoru whistles. “Brave girl.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me. You know how.”

You glare at him. You know that he’s taunting you to get what he wants. You also know that trying to resist him makes his dick even harder. 

He squirms in your grasp for a second, chuckling as you struggle with him. He can overpower you, easily. He’s arrogant enough to, but he’s enjoying your irritability at the moment. 

His laugh makes you tick, makes you claw at the front of his slacks and unzip them to palm his hard cock. You slide down his briefs to swirl your tongue along his slit, tasting salt.

“Jesus,” Satoru moans, surprised.

You’ve barely started, but it’s easy for you to work your hand up and down his shaft because of how wet he already is. It would fill your chest with pride if you weren’t so pissed off with him. 

You choke on his length when he bucks his hips up. He mumbles an apology when he feels your hand grip his hip. His grunts spur you on, as do his praises, the growl of his words arousing you. Satoru tries to grab a fistful of your hair but you swat him away.

“Fuck,” he groans. “I can’t believe – shit – you’re sucking me off in public. What’s gotten into you?”

“You talk too much,” you mutter, sliding him out of your mouth and replacing it with your hands. You feel him twitch in your palms. He’s writhing – a young god underneath you. For once, you feel a little powerful.

“You little slut,” he hisses. “Fucked you so many times that I’ve completely defiled you.”

“God, I might just sit on your face to get you to shut the fuck up.”

He moans at that. He could flip you over and fuck you senseless with how strong he is, but he doesn’t care to. When your mouth latches onto his cock again, he doesn’t care about anything except your tongue.

When you squeeze the base of him tightly, Satoru fucking whines.

“Fuck, fuck– I’m so close. Wait, stop–”

He pulls at your hair but you continue, sloppily lapping at him with your hot tongue, making him shudder. 

“Baby, wanna be inside you–”

Too damn bad.

You can tell how close he is because of his inability to speak. Instead, it’s heavy breaths, chest rising and falling as he grips your hair harder than before. The sound of his groans makes your cunt ache. 

“Oh, fuck–”

And then you let go of him. 

He stares at you in disbelief. Something surges inside him – a flame. It isn’t exactly anger. Perhaps something more devious. He really wants to ruin you now. 

Your mouth is red and raw. You blink at Satoru, half-expecting him to lash out. In his own way, he does, with his tongue down your throat and his hand around your neck. There’s a flash around you. When you open your eyes, you’re in his bed. 

You whine when he tugs your blouse down roughly, his teeth biting into your shoulder hard. Canines breaking skin. You’re all red for him, flushed and dripping. 

“Satoru!”

“Payback,” he mutters, before pushing you onto your side. His cock is still hard. It throbs against you as he slides it in between your thighs. He can feel you through your panties, how wet you are for him.

“I’m not mad at you for edging me,” he murmurs into your ear. He grips your hair like before, forcing your neck to stretch, all exposed for him. “Did you know I used to dream about you sucking me off outside like that? On school grounds?”

“You’re such a fucking pervert,” you rasp.

“Me?” he laughs. It feels unkind. “You’re the one who was gagging on my cock after ignoring me all day. How is that any sort of punishment?”

“Because I didn’t let you cum.” You grit your teeth.

“So mean,” he taunts. You squeal when he reaches underneath your skirt and presses a finger onto your sensitive clit, pinching. “I’ll make you cum. Might not let you stop cumming.”

He slides your panties to the side and fucks you with your back to his chest. Satoru intends to keep his promise, but he can’t exactly do that when he’s so fucking close. Your edging him had him riled up, a fever with aching limbs.

He splits you open like this. Deeper than usual, curiously, despite this being a recurrent position of yours. Satoru thinks about you ass up and face down, whining into the mattress. For now, he likes spooning you. It’s lazy and rough at the same time.

He holds out like he means to – makes you cum on his cock twice before he spills himself onto the backs of your thighs. You don’t let him kiss you once during it, your last form of protest. He settles himself by biting at your neck like a wolf taking a lamb. He eats your cunt for a while, too, licking up your sweetness down to the last drop until you’re begging him to stop.

When you both lay there in silence, Satoru thinks it’s odd how quiet you are. He thought that he fucked the attitude out of you by now, but when he turns his head to meet yours, you’re staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks.

He means the sex, so you shake your head. You aren’t sure what to make of the gaping cavern inside of your chest after it, though—still feeling separate from him despite being intertwined. 

“You could do anything you wanted to me and I think I’d let you.”

He’s quiet. He hates that hearing it turns him on because this isn’t pillow talk. He isn’t sure what it is.

“You like that, don’t you?” you ask softly. You turn to face him now, your eyes dim. 

He does. He wants to possess you, hold you in the palm of his hand so no one else can. So no one else will. But he doesn’t answer you, only swallows the lump in his throat.

“I like you,” Satoru breathes. He wants to keep you. He’s selfish like that.

“I like you, too, Satoru,” you say. 

You sound almost dejected. He doesn’t pry. 

[watatsumiis]

When You Can't Get Out of Bed (Genshin x Reader Drabbles)

Some days, it’s nigh on impossible to drag yourself out of bed, let alone get up and leave the house. What is meant to be a safe haven instead becomes a prison - albeit a comfortable one. Sometimes, all you need is somebody to take care of and comfort you until you’re ready to face the world once again. 

Content: Various characters x a gender neutral reader (who is implied to be struggling with depression/going through a hard time).

Characters: Albedo, Ayato, Capitano, Neuvillette, Thoma, Yae Miko.

Albedo doesn’t really understand what’s wrong, or why you’re acting the way you are. It’s just not something he can empathise with in the slightest. He may come off a little snippy or abrupt when he first finds you lying about in bed, but it’s more because he’s worried about you being unwell than anything else. He may leave you be for a bit while he does some reading up on the subject, but once he’s gathered enough information, he’s really good with you. He’s so patient and sweet and kind, and will sit in your room to keep you company while he does theory work if that’s something you’d benefit from. He encourages you to try grounding techniques and will bring you nice hearty meals to keep you going. He’s gentle and patient and will let you take things at your own speed without a single complaint.

Ayato has little to no idea about what to do. One of his parents would get like this occasionally when he was young, but he would usually just step up and take over their responsibilities without a word. When it’s you, however, he’s just not sure at all. He doesn’t want to leave you alone when you’re like this, nor does he want to smother you. He just wants you to know that you’re loved and cherished and that the Yashiro Commissioner has your back no matter what’s going on. If work calls for him, his final solution, as it often is, is Thoma, who he will have check up on you often, bringing in your favourite treats and other little gifts that Ayato has organised for you. You’ll likely end up with a bed covered in new trinkets, hand-written letters from Ayato’s desk and items of interest, as well as comfortable new blankets and pillows (and plushies, if that’s your thing) to keep you company while you recuperate. 

Capitano gets it. He’s been there. He’s a busy man, but if it seems like you’re in dire need of company, he’ll find a way to shirk his duties so that he can stay with you for as long as you need. He doesn’t really have many words of affirmation to give to you, but his actions more than make up for it. He’ll sit by your bedside and read to you (or tell you stories), make you all your favourite comfort meals, and just altogether be great company. He’s quiet, but his presence is soothing enough to make up for it. He’ll offer support in any way that he can, while also slowly encouraging you to get up and about in a way that’s so subtle that it ends up feeling like your own idea. He won’t force you or anything, but just offer little suggestions, or place things just a little out of your reach to encourage you to get up. He’s so so patient and sweet that you can’t even be cross with him for being so sneaky.

Neuvillette frets. He’s an extremely busy man, and he’s got no idea in the slightest about what to do when you suddenly become listless and not willing to leave your bed. This kind of behaviour simply isn’t in his wheelhouse at all. He’ll quickly start to prattle on about bringing doctors over and trying to help you in the most immediate way possible because he thinks you’ve contracted some illness or other. It takes someone else pointing out that you’re just sad or overwhelmed with life as a whole for it to finally click for Neuvillette. Sadness is absolutely in his wheelhouse, that’s just about where he lives at this point. Once he’s come to that realisation, he’s kind and sweet and patient, and will do his very best to try and cheer you up. He brings you bouquets of flowers and soft, pretty trinkets to brighten up your room a little more so that it doesn’t feel so lonely when he’s gone, and will tentatively try to coax you into leaving the house with various kinds of bribes. The Melusine will also quickly catch on to his preoccupation, and then by extension, you soon have an army of ocean-dwelling critters at your beck and call, trying their very best to help in any and every way that they can.

Thoma, bless his heart, tries his very best. It’s not something he can empathise with very much, but he quickly settles into the same routine that he does when you’re unwell, showering you in love and praise and various foodstuffs that he knows you like. He spoils you absolutely rotten, making sure there’s next to nothing that you have to do for yourself if he’s able to do it for you. He’ll chatter away to you as he mills about your room in his downtime, trying to boost your mood by recalling good times you’ve had together, or funny stories about things that have happened to him. He’s just a huge sweetheart overall and works so hard to make sure you’re comfortable and content, even if you’re not happy for whatever reason. He kind of gets stuck in his own head worrying about what (if anything) made you feel so down, but he won���t let it show in front of you, barring the few times when he might just directly ask you if there’s something going on that he doesn’t know about, if there’s anything at all he can help you with. He’s pretty heavy on the encouragement for you to get out of bed, insisting that being outside will help, but he won’t force you into it if you push back at all.

Yae Miko sort of teases at first in her signature, light-hearted way. She’ll poke and prod and try to rile you up by saying things that are not exactly kind to and about you, but it doesn’t take her long to realise that there’s something actually amiss. Once it finally clicks, she’ll go quiet and just ponder things for a bit before sighing dramatically and saying that she ‘supposes she could help’. Despite the teasing tone she puts on, she’s a very soothing presence to be around. She’ll move her editing setup to your room to keep you company, and have various subordinates bring you both plenty of delicious snacks to eat. Though she tries to mask it, it’s pretty obvious that she’s acting a little bit softer at this point in time, just to help keep you comfortable and happy. If you catch her at a particularly tender moment, she may just allow you to pet her ears or even her tails as she reads out the newest manuscript she’s received and asks for your opinions. She’s not exactly putting you to work, per se, but while you’re not predisposed, she will take advantage of your presence to help critique the various pieces of writing that come across her desk.

Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagiarise my writing! I do not consent for my works to be translated and posted elsewhere, or copy - pasted into bot or AI technology.

[barefoot-joker]

Two Lonely Hearts  Yandere!Miguel O’Hara X Reader

Hey, guys! I hope you all are doing well. This is my first time writing for Spider Man and for Miguel O’Hara. I just think he’s neat. The Spanish I did Google Translate so please let me know if it’s wrong so I can fix it! I hope you guys all enjoy and have a great day/ night!

Words: 2010

Warnings: Implied suicidal thoughts, anxiety, depression, yandere tendencies, kidnapping, talk of forced mothership

BEEP!

BEEP!

BEEP!

I sighed and groggily turned off my alarm. Last night I did not get a lot of sleep, even with my sleeping pills. It has been like this a lot lately and it sucks because the night is when my mind wanders the most. I hate that I have to deal with my anxiety and depression even while I try to sleep. It really sucks the life out of you.

Today I was in the mood to not get out of bed. I just wanted to lay there and let the day pass while I wrapped myself up in a blanket cocoon. I indulged myself and lay there for a while when I suddenly felt like I was being watched. I brought the blanket over my head similar to what a child does to try and get rid of the feeling. 

It didn’t go away.

I might as well get up. 

With that, I shrugged the blanket off my body and slumped my way out of bed. My bare feet slid against the wood floor as I was too tired to try and lift them. It’s going to be one of those days. 

I tiredly made my way to my closet and picked out a f/c t-shirt, a pair of basketball shorts, and my undergarments. With those in hand I made my way to the bathroom and turned on the shower. I set my clothes down on the toilet seat and when the water was scalding hot, I got in. I liked hot showers. They felt like they got rid of some of the grime my emotions left. After I completed my normal routine, I just stood there and allowed the warm water to run down my body. Let the water take it all away, Y/n. Let it take it all away.

Soon the water turned frigid and I knew this was my cue to get out. While I didn’t like wasting water, it felt nice to just stand there and not have to worry about anything. The shower was like a safe haven for me. I could block out my adult responsibilities and emotions for a while and just concentrate on the water. 

Turning off the spigot, I allowed the cool air to pass by the shower curtain and tingle my skin. It was like my actual wake up call for the day. Sliding the curtain open, I stepped out and grabbed my towel to dry off. The fuzziness of the towel was calming and as soon as I dried off I slowly put on my clothes. I looked at myself in the mirror when I was all done. My eyebags had gotten worse and I looked a bit pale. I could almost compare myself to that of a zombie with how tired and dead I looked. 

I sighed and rubbed my eyes, seeing if that would take the dreadful image away. Of course it didn’t, so I left the bathroom in search of breakfast. I hadn’t gone grocery shopping in a long time. Being around people lately was scary to me. It felt like their eyes were always on me and judging my every move. Looking in my fridge I knew I would have to conquer my fear and go out today to get some food. Especially since the only things I had in my fridge were apples, two slices of bread and some jelly. Jelly sandwich with some apple slices it is.

I took out my ingredients and set them on the countertop. I turned to my cutlery drawer and took out a butter knife. Looking at the blade, I regretted taking it out. My hands started to twitch as I gazed at it, ashamed of my thoughts going through. Breathe, Y/n. Breathe. In. And out. In. And out.

I followed along to my breathing technique and placed the jelly on one slice of bread. As soon as this was done, I disposed of the knife in the sink as fast as I could. My thoughts still lingered on the blade, but now that it was out of my hands I felt a bit better. Turning back to my breakfast, I placed the top piece of bread on to complete my sandwich. I also decided not to slice up my apple. I took my breakfast to the couch and began to eat, the silence in the apartment was deafening. I took my time since I wasn’t in a hurry to go outside and be an adult quite yet, not that I liked being in my apartment either. I was hoping to be in a place that was away from the world, my own little dimension. It would be so lovely.

I finished up my breakfast after a while and then wrote out my to do list. After this was done I put on some sneakers, grabbed my bag, and headed out. The walk from the fifth floor down wasn’t a bad one fortunately, so soon I was out on the street. The surge of people out and about made me want to crumble, but I forced myself to trudge on. Once again it felt like I was being watched, but I assume it’s all the people around me. Things can get like that sometimes. 

It only took me a few minutes to get to the grocery store, which is nice that it’s not too far from my abode. I grabbed a basket from the front entryway and began my journey. I had only gotten a few items in when I saw a child looking scared on the side. She had tears in her eyes and I felt bad for her. Even though my anxiety was high, I wanted to see this little girl safe. I walked over and knelt to her height. “Hi there, sweetie. What’s wrong?”

“I-I-I can’t find my M-mommy-y,” she said through sobs.

“Hey, it’s okay,” I said as nicely as possible, “I’ll help you find her.”

“R-really?”

“Uh-huh. Now, do you know what color shirt your mom was wearing?”

“It was r-red, a dark r-red.”

“Okay. C’mon, kiddo.”

I held out my hand for her to take and luckily she did. The two of us walked around the store when the little girl gave out a happy shriek. “Mommy!”

A woman with a dark red shirt and braided hair quickly turned and smiled wide when she realized her child was safe. “Sarah!”

She ran towards us and hugged her daughter tightly. It was honestly a very fulfilling scene. “Oh I was so worried about you!”

“I’m sorry, Mommy. But this nice lady helped me!”

The woman looked up at me and smiled wide. “Thank you so much, dear. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”

“I understand, Ma’am. It was my pleasure.”

She nodded at me, took her little girl by the hand and walked down the aisle. I sighed happily and continued my shopping trip.

It took me a bit to get everything, but in the end I completed my to-do list. Walking back to my apartment, I thought about the events in the grocery store. I helped out others all the time. Even though I was suffering on the inside, why should somebody else? However, even my kind deeds did not make my sadness go away, no matter how hard I tried. It was pointless. 

After I got back to my house and put everything away, I decided to take a nap. I was tired after all the social interaction. Quietly, I snuck back to my bed and laid down. My eyes closed and it took about twenty minutes before I finally fell asleep.

It felt like a few hours had passed when I finally woke up. I yawned, stretched and got up…or at least attempted to. I was confused when I felt more bed when normally I’d have my feet on the floor by now. Sitting up quickly, my eyes widened. 

I wasn’t in my room.

I was somewhere completely different.

I scooted myself over to the side of the bed and rushed out of the room towards the nearest door. I got out a few feet before I smacked into something muscular. I tilted back and strong firm hands grasped at my arms. “Hey slow down, Y/n,” a voice I didn’t recognize said.

I looked up and gasped. The man standing before me I had seen a couple of times in my city walking around. He was so tall with light brown skin and dark brown hair. He wore a skintight dark blue and bright red jumpsuit and his eyes. God his eyes. The red irises stared down at me and seemed to eat me up. He guided me back into the room I just left and I finally took a long look. It was minimalistic in design. All it had was a king size bed, a wardrobe, a desk, a couch, coffee table, another room off to the side and a balcony. He sat me on the end of the bed before sitting next to me. He grabbed my hands with his and squeezed gently. “Now I know all of this is new to you, but I can assure you you’re safe, Y/n.”

“Where exactly am I? W-who are you?”

“I am Miguel O’Hara, but you can call me Miguel. You do not need to know the exact location, just that you are safe.”

“How did I get here? I mean you kidnapped me-”

“Think of it as relocation, not kidnapping, mi amor. As for how you got here…you were sleeping and I grabbed you. I thought it would be the best time so you wouldn’t panic and stress yourself out.”

“Grabbed me?! That sounds like kidnapping to me! And of course I’d panic, I was taken by a guy I don’t even know!”

“Calm down-”

“No! I won’t! I want to go home!”

“You’re safer here.”

“No! I want to leave! I want to go home, please!”

“But mi querida, you were so unhappy there. I saved you! This way I can protect you!”

“Protect me from what?!” “Yourself!”

There was a deafening silence between us. “M-myself?”

“Yes. While I was watching over you I saw how sad you were over everything. I figured you needed some company and this way I can keep an eye on you. You’ll come to love it here, I assure you. Besides, I feel better knowing you’re here. I will protect you, that I can promise.”

I didn’t know what to say. This man claims he’s been watching me and knows what’s best. I stayed silent. Miguel grasped at my hands a bit tighter and he tried to look into my eyes. I kept them forced on my lap. “Why me?”

“Querida, you have such a kind heart. I’ve seen the things you have done to help those in need. You’ll be a perfect mother.”

“Mother? Mother?! What are you talking about?”

“Yes, madre. I have lost so much and so have you. Why not let our two broken hearts mend together?”

“Because I barely know you!”

I ripped my hands from him and stood up. He followed. “But you will come to know me. I will be the best husband you could ask for.”

“N-no. No! Get away from me, you creep!”

I turned and started to run but Miguel leaped on top of me and restrained me with his arms. “Let go of me! Let go! Please!”

“Shh, mi amor. You’re just tired. I understand. Let me help you.”

I struggled until I felt something pinch my neck. Within minutes my body went limp and numb. Miguel picked me back up and laid me under the covers in the large bed. 

I struggled to blink.  

I struggled to breathe.

“Hush, mi amor. All will be well when you wake up.”

He leaned down and nuzzled my forehead. Just as he was going to pull away he gave my forehead a kiss as well.

My blurry vision then became dark.

[nickeverdeen]

Whispers of the heart | Kit Tanthalos x fem!reader

The sound of clashing swords echoed in the training grounds as Kit and Jade engaged in a spirited bout. You stood by, attentively watching the exchange, arrows tucked into your makeshift quiver. As Kit executed a well-timed strike, she noticed your gaze and flashed a triumphant grin.

"See that move, Y/N? You could learn a thing or two from me," Kit teased, her confidence radiating.

You chuckled, taking the banter in stride. "Maybe, Kit, but archery requires finesse, not brute force."

Jade joined the conversation, offering a playful jab at Kit's training style. "Y/N's got a point. Sometimes subtlety can outmatch strength."

Kit, undeterred, twirled her sword with a flourish. "I'll take my strength over subtlety any day."

The banter continued as the trio ventured into a light-hearted discussion about their respective training preferences. As Jade offered guidance on refining Kit's technique, you interjected with insights on precision and accuracy drawn from her archery experience.

The sun began its descent, casting a warm hue over the training grounds. Kit wiped the sweat from her brow, turning to you. "You know, archery might have its merits."

You raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Oh? Admitting that subtlety has its place in the world?"

Kit's laughter rang out. "Maybe I'll ask you to teach me someday, when I'm not busy saving my brother’s ass."

The camaraderie between the three grew stronger with each passing day. As you and Kit continued to exchange playful banter, Jade found joy in watching their friendship flourish. Beneath the moonlit sky, the training grounds transformed into a haven of shared laughter, dreams, and unwavering support.

One evening, as they rested after an intense training session, Kit broached a topic that had lingered in her thoughts. "Y/N, you never talk much about your life before Tir Asleen. What brought you here?"

Your expression softened, your eyes reflecting the flickering flames of the nearby torches. "It's a long story, Princess, but sure I'll share it with you."

Seated in a circle, the trio delved into the intricacies of your past. The night unfolded with stories of a distant village, a peasantry burdened by injustice, and your journey to Tir Asleen in pursuit of a life free from oppression.

As the revelations unfolded, Kit and Jade listened attentively, offering empathetic nods and words of encouragement. The bond between them deepened, transcending the boundaries of royalty and commoner.

In the quiet moments that followed, Kit looked at you with newfound understanding. Their conversations became a tapestry of shared experiences, dreams, and vulnerabilities. You and Kit found solace in each other's stories, forging a connection that defied the societal norms attempting to dictate their paths.

As the moon hung high in the sky, casting a gentle glow over the training grounds, the princess, the archer, and the swordswoman continued their journey of camaraderie, laughter, and unwavering friendship.

———

As the months passed, Kit found herself captivated by more than just your archery skills. There was an unspoken connection between you two, a magnetic force that drew Kit in whenever you trained together. Each clash of swords seemed to spark an invisible energy, leaving Kit feeling a mix of exhilaration and confusion.

Jade, ever perceptive, couldn't help but notice the subtle shifts in Kit's demeanor. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she began teasing Kit relentlessly, especially during moments when you were out of earshot.

"Kit, you seem a bit distracted today. Anything on your mind?" Jade quipped, a sly smile playing on her lips.

Kit shot her a glance, a mixture of irritation and embarrassment. "Nothing, Jade. Just focused on the training."

Jade chuckled knowingly. "Focused, huh? Is that what they taught you to call it?"

Kit's cheeks flushed, and she swatted Jade with the flat of her sword. "You're reading too much into it."

Jade feigned innocence. "Oh, am I? It's just amusing how you and Y/N have this... almost sexual tension when you're sparring."

Kit rolled her eyes, attempting to brush off Jade's comments. However, the seed of realization had been planted, and Kit couldn't deny the truth in Jade's words.

One day, as you and Kit engaged in a particularly intense sparring session, Jade couldn't resist making her presence known. She whistled from the sidelines, interrupting your rhythm. "Wow, if I didn't know better, I'd say there's a storm brewing here. Anyone else feel the heat?"

Kit shot Jade an exasperated look, but her heart raced in sync with the rhythm of the blades. You, oblivious to the underlying tension, raised an eyebrow at the teasing.

"What's going on, Kit? Jade seems to think we're putting on a show," you said with a bemused expression.

Kit stammered, attempting to brush it off. "Jade's just being... Jade. You know it."

Jade winked at Kit, enjoying every moment of her best friend's discomfort. "I'm just saying, there's a certain spark in the air. You two might want to address it before the entire kingdom starts placing bets."

As you and Kit continued your training, the unspoken tension lingered, creating a dynamic that neither could fully grasp. Kit, conflicted by her growing feelings, struggled to maintain composure. Jade, on the other hand, reveled in the unfolding drama, eager to see how it would play out.

In the quiet moments after training, Kit often found herself stealing glances at you, contemplating whether to confront the truth or let the unspoken connection linger in the realm of ambiguity.

———

Kit and Jade engaged in a casual discussion as they prepared the training grounds for the day. The morning sun cast a warm glow, and the air buzzed with anticipation. Jade couldn't help but bring up a topic that had been lingering in the air.

"You know, Kit, you don't have to be so subtle about it," Jade remarked with a playful grin.

Kit raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Subtle about what?"

Jade chuckled. "About your feelings for Y/N, of course. Everyone can see it, even Airk and that’s a lot to say."

Kit rolled her eyes, dismissing the notion. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

As they continued setting things up, you approached, having overheard their conversation. You stumbled slightly on purpose, a subtle signal that you were well aware of the topic at hand. Without acknowledging it directly, you joined the conversation seamlessly.

"Morning, you two. What's the plan for today?" You asked, your tone light.

Jade exchanged a knowing glance with Kit, who tried to maintain composure. "Just the usual routine. Kit here is working on her sword skills."

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Sounds like a plan. Let me know if you need any help."

As the training session commenced, you couldn't help but steal glances at Kit in action. The rhythmic clash of swords echoed through the air, and Kit's prowess left an impression. You found herself captivated, realizing that your feelings were evolving beyond friendship.

Amidst the camaraderie and shared laughter, unspoken emotions lingered beneath the surface, gradually weaving a tale of friendship and a growing connection between the princess, the archer.

———

Under the canopy of the garden, you and Kit strolled along, the quiet rustle of leaves accompanying your footsteps. Kit couldn't help but notice the subtle warmth between you two as your hands brushed, each touch sending a flutter through her.

As you walked, your blush deepened, and Kit couldn't help but be intrigued by the unusual sight. Finally, under the shade of a dark tree, you settled beneath the branches, gazing up at the stars scattered across the night sky.

The air held a sense of anticipation as Kit mustered the courage to open up. "Y/N," she began, her voice soft in the quietude of the night, "there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

You turned to her, her eyes reflecting the starlight. "What is it, Kit?"

Taking a deep breath, Kit confessed, "I… Y/N all I care about is you. And if you wanna come prehaps even run away to live somewhere freely, I would tag along, if that’s okay. ‘Cause I don’t wanna have any adventures unless they’re with you. I should’ve told you sooner, you know? And for that I am so sorry. I love you Y/N."

The confession hung in the air, and Kit anxiously awaited your response. The garden, once filled with the sounds of the night, now held a stillness that seemed to echo the beating of your hearts.

The soft glow of moonlight bathed the garden, casting a magical ambiance over you and Kit. As Kit hesitated, wondering if she had made a mistake, your lips met hers in a gentle yet passionate kiss. The world around you two seemed to fade as you became lost in the warmth of each other's embrace.

You, breaking the kiss with a smile, whispered, "I love you too, Kit."

The admission hung in the air, a delicate revelation that opened a new chapter in your relationship. You continued to sit beneath the tree, your fingers entwined with Kit's as you exchanged stories, dreams, and whispered confessions.

As the night deepened, your laughter echoed through the garden, blending with the soft rustle of leaves and the distant murmur of the night. Kit, captivated by the genuine warmth in your eyes, couldn't help but marvel at the depth of your connection.

You moved to a quiet corner under a blossoming tree, where Kit often went when she needed some silence. The fragrance of flowers mingled with the crisp night air as you settled, side by side, on a stone bench. The stars above you two twinkled as if conspiring to keep your secret.

In a small awe by the magic of the night, Kit leaned in to steal a sweet kiss, savoring the taste of the moment. You responded with a tender passion, your fingers gently tracing patterns on Kit's arm. It was a dance of hearts, an unspoken language that surpassed words.

As the night wore on, you eventually found yourselves lying on the cool grass, cuddled together like pieces of a puzzle fitting seamlessly. You, usually the more reserved of the two, nuzzled into Kit's embrace, her heartbeat echoing the rhythm of the garden.

Amid whispered promises and playful banter, the hours slipped away, marking a turning point in their lives. Kit, stroking your hair gently, couldn't shake the feeling that your love story had just begun.

The night, filled with starlight and shared secrets, embraced you until you drifted into a peaceful slumber in the garden. The dawn would bring challenges, but for now, you and Kit found refuge in the warmth of your love, intertwined beneath the celestial canvas of the night sky.

———

During the training, Jade couldn't help but notice the unspoken tension between you and Kit. During a break, she decided to address the elephant in the room.

"Okay, spill it, you two," Jade said with a sly grin. "There's something happening here, and I'm not buying the 'just training' excuse."

Kit exchanged a quick glance with you, and you shared a silent agreement to open up to Jade. Taking a deep breath, Kit began, "Well, you see, it's not just training. Y/N and I... we got together"

You, though a bit shy, nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it's true. We've been getting closer, and our feelings have evolved beyond friendship."

Jade's eyes widened with excitement. "Finally! I've been waiting for this moment. Do you know how long I've had to endure the tension between you two? Spill the details."

Kit chuckled nervously. "It's still new, Jade. We're taking things one step at a time. But there was a moment in the gardens, and, well, things got a bit more serious."

You blushed but continued, "And we decided to see where this takes us. We're not hiding it, but we're also not making a grand announcement. It's complicated, especially considering the kingdom's stance on such matters."

Jade, thrilled by your confessions, grinned widely. "This is perfect! I've been shipping you two for ages. Just promise me I get to be the bridesmaid when you finally decide to tie the knot."

You and Kit laughed, grateful for Jade's support and understanding. The trio continued their training, now with an added layer of shared secrets, inside jokes, and the unspoken promise of a future filled with both challenges and the undeniable bond that tied them together.

————————————————————

Okay this is horrible and is extremely short, but I hope you guys like it! Feel free to give me any suggestions on how I can improve other imagines in the future.

Love you, stay safe and healthy 🫶💚

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞

They had prepared you for long missions and what would come with them — it was why they found Alpine for you, a little bit of comfort for a time that would inevitably happen. But what they had not prepared you for was the shock of an unexpected, but much desired, arrival back home.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ღ Stucky x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ღ 1.9k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ღ Tooth rotting fluff, anxiety attack, pining

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ღ Just some much needed soft fluff from our two favourite super soldiers.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆��𝒆𝒏𝒕 ღ @stuckybingo 𝗢𝟱 — Alpine — Masterlist

𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Long missions and long nights were commonplace in your life, ever since you managed to sneak your way into the two huge hearts that belonged to your pair of brooding super soldiers. It had been a few years now that the three of you had been together; it was also normal for your heart to ache as soon as their gear-clad figures and combat boots stepped through the door of your home and out into the world to face who-knows-what. 

As time went on it had become easier to mask your fear and worry for the two of them, however, this mission even made them nervous. That did not bode well for their farewell and there were enough tears on your behalf to fill the Potomac River.

“We’ll be back before you know it, darlin’,” Steve had said as he held you against his chest while Bucky held your hand, not-so-patiently awaiting his turn.

“Yeah,” Bucky said quietly while pulling Steve away from your embrace, Steve’s whine silenced by a quick kiss. “Alpine’ll keep you company, sweetheart.” Bucky lifted you off your feet in a crushing embrace while he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. “Te iubesc,” he whispered.

The two of you reluctantly parted from one another at Steve’s insistence that ‘the quicker we go, the quicker we come back’. It was a shame that wasn’t the case. 

It had been three weeks.

You hadn’t heard from the pair of them at all thanks to the requirement of absolute radio silence during this mission - another factor fraying at your already sparking nerves. Three weeks certainly hadn’t been the longest time they had been away, no, it was the fact that there was no communication for the entirety of those three weeks. Fury had made it explicitly clear that if this mission became compromised, the consequences would be dire.

Natasha and Sam had been checking in with you periodically, but they had their own lives and missions to lead.

It was not a far stretch to say you felt isolated. Completely, and utterly, alone.

The bed the three of you slept in felt cold in their absence; too big for its own good, the stillness enough to bring you to tears every single damn time you glanced down the hall towards your shared room. 

Unable to bear a single glance into your safe haven, you had closed the door and only ventured in when absolutely necessary; the two pillars holding up all of what you held dear had disappeared and with their vanishing, they had taken the sturdy foundation with them.

It certainly didn’t feel normal in any respect that you were this emotional with their departure, sure it was normal to be anxious, even scared, but something was wrong. Something had been whispering in your ears that something had happened. 

You just did not know what.

The makeshift bed on the couch in the living room suddenly felt too close, the walls kept creeping closer and closer with every breath you took. 

“Snap out of it,” you whispered, the breathing technique that Bucky had taught you barely kept you above the swell of panic. You needed them home. “They’ll be back soon.”

Your feet met the plush carpet as you moved to stand up. Alpine was sitting up and staring at you from her perch on the arm of the couch, her eyes bright even in the darkness that filled the room and your mind. “Wanna snack?” 

Her chipper meow and the sound of her soft and fluffy paws hitting the floor beside your feet made you smile - you may not have Steve and Bucky right now, but you had the next best thing. 

The cold tile of the kitchen had the grounding effect you desperately needed, and you felt like you could take a breath against the tight bands around your chest. You decided the next port of call was a glass of water. 

The thought made you smile at the memory of Steve sitting down with you one day when the clouds hovering in your mind became too thick to see through.

Steve’s chest was warm on your back, the solid wall of muscle through his sweater a massive comfort as you sat between his parted legs on the floor of the living room. Bucky had left to pick up groceries and run errands so the two of you were alone. 

“Maybe you should try a cold glass of water when you’re like this, darlin’. It can’t hurt.” Steve whispered in your ear as his bearded chin rested on your shoulder. You nodded and he maneuvered his way to the kitchen, returning with said glass of cold water. He settled back into place and you took a hold of the glass and sipped. 

“Atta girl,” Steve whispered and you smiled, the more you drank, the more the cloud dissipated. “Told you.”

“Don’t be a smart ass, Rogers.” 

Steve only laughed at your tone and held you tighter.

God, you missed them so much it hurt.

The quiet hum of the fridge filled the room as the door swung open. It lit the kitchen up in a soft glow while you searched for Alpine’s treat and once you found it, you looked down to find she was no longer at your feet. “Alpine, baby, come on,” you called. She had been right behind you when you walked in here - she must have run back into the living room after hearing or seeing something. 

You grabbed a glass from the shelf, turning your back on the open fridge for only a brief second when you felt the hair on the back of your neck begin to stand up. There was no one there, you assured yourself, the sudden feeling a possible spike of anxiety, a dredge of panic leftover from your time wallowing in the living room. 

“Alpine, c’mon, where’d you go?” You said loud enough for your voice to carry into the living room. The slosh of the water in your glass, the hum of the fridge, and the roar of blood in your ears from barely abated panic muted any other sound, it had begun to worry you even more when you couldn’t hear her chirps or incessant meows. What was she doing?

The fridge door closed with a quiet thud and you ventured silently towards the hallway leading to the lounge, glass in hand. Although you would never admit it to him, Steve was definitely right with his trick - the cloud that had settled over your mind had slowly started to dissipate, much to your relief. 

“Sweetheart?”

The sound of smashing glass and your frightened shriek happened in such quick succession that the shock of hearing Bucky’s voice hadn’t sunk in. 

“Hey, hey, hey, easy!” Steve called as he rushed forward but he stopped short with the sound of glass crushing under his boot. “Hey, darlin’.”  

Steve smiled. No, you must be dreaming.

“We thought you’d be in bed, sweetheart, what’re you doin’ out here?” Bucky piped up from behind Steve, his voice heavily laced with concern. As he spoke he moved forward, Alpine was cradled in his arms. 

“Wh-What are you guys doing here?” You gushed, disbelief and shock still kept you rooted to the spot. “What happened?”

Steve chuckled and side stepped the mess on the floor to pull you into the kitchen and you followed, still dazed at suddenly finding the hulking figures of your boyfriends in a dark hallway. 

They were home.

“I don’t understand, what-” You were cut off by a quick kiss from Steve, his hands still holding your wrists. The sudden movement made you squeak from shock but you recovered and smiled when he pulled away. 

“You all right, darlin’?” Steve asked while Bucky lowered Alpine to the ground, the sound of her chirping away and demanding her promised snack the only thing you could hear apart from the pounding of your heart in your ears. 

“Y-Yeah,” you breathed, swallowed hard around the lump in your throat - unsure if it was because it felt like your heart had lodged itself there, or you were on the verge of tears. “What are you doing home, I-I don’t under-”

“Don’t you worry that pretty head of yours, doll,” Bucky whispered. He grabbed your wrists from Steve’s grip and inspected your shaking hands closely for any cuts from the glass and upon finding no evidence of injury, a quiet sigh left him. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

The rough calluses of Bucky’s right hand and the cold metal of his left somehow brought a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. As if you needed another reason, you suddenly remembered that there was a mess of broken glass in the hallway. You opened your mouth to speak but only a choked sob came out. 

“Buck, take her,” Steve whispered and suddenly you were enveloped in Bucky’s arms. “I’ll clean this up.” You felt Bucky nod and Steve brushed past the two of you to grab a broom. 

“Breathe with me, sweetheart, c’mon.” With each deep breath you took, Bucky kissed your temple. After a moment or two, your shoulders had stopped shaking and you could only sniffle. Bucky pulled away slightly and smiled at you. “There’s my girl.”

“Alpine! No!” Steve yelled from the hallway and the two of you laughed quietly. 

Bucky began to pull you towards the closed door of your bedroom, his touch soft but firm. “C’mere,” Bucky whispered, opening the door and guiding you through it. He went straight to the wardrobe and pulled down one of his Henleys. “Let’s get you comfy.”

Time blurred while Bucky helped you change. Your sniffles and hiccups gradually slowed until they stopped, and you were suddenly under the warm covers of your bed with Bucky right next to you. Just like you had dreamt of, just as you had wished for, for days on end. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” 

You blinked and moved your head from the crook of Bucky’s neck to find him smiling softly down at you. Footsteps echoed down the hall and you turned your head towards the door where Steve stood, Alpine in his arms and a content smile on his face. He clucked his tongue and walked forward, placing Alpine on the foot of the bed. “Make room,” he said, pulling his suit off with a sigh of relief. 

“There’s room, Stevie,” you whispered. You lifted a hand from Bucky’s chest and offered it to Steve who laughed.

“I was talking to Buck, the big jerk.”

Bucky gasped dramatically and flipped him off. The laugh that escaped you at their banter brightened their smiles to be dazzling. 

The bed shifted under Steve’s weight and he flopped at your back before scooting forwards, pulling you against his chest with his strong arms, and Bucky followed, shuffling closer so you were wedged tightly between them. Alpine, not one to miss out on attention, nor affection, made her way to your hip and laid down, purring loudly and contentedly. 

Warmth encompassed you with Steve at your back and Bucky at your front, both their arms holding you tightly - protectively while you lay in silence. It wasn’t a tense silence, just your two super soldiers holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

“We missed you,” Steve whispered into your hair, squeezing you.

Bucky nodded gently. “We did, doll, we know it’s hard.” His hand moved to your cheek and his thumb brushed your cheekbone. “But we will always come home to you–we will always come home to our girl.”

Their promise held you together, mending the cracks with gold and making you strong once again; for home is where the heart is.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

[yhk1864]

'There are three ways to survive in a ruined world.' This is the first line of orv and the title of the novel Han Sooyoung wrote for Kim Dokja. But what exactly did she mean by that?

It's simple. The three ways are reading, writing, and regressing. These are the three methods we use cope with our lives, to survive each day.

Yoo Jonghyuk survived the hellish scenarios by regressing and remaining stuck in the terrifying past. With this method, he discovered various items and techniques that helped him improve each regression turn. However, despite the fact that each regression provided him with valuable information and wisdom, he slowly lost his soul and humanity. Regression represents how we replay our bad memories over and over, reliving the terror of the never-ending past. With this, we learn from our mistakes but never take a step forward. And that's why kimco chose to regress. They couldn't let go of the Kim Dokja they knew and loved, therefore they abandoned the peaceful lives they could've enjoyed with 49. Thus, in the end, they failed.

Meanwhile, Kim Dokja survived by reading. To escape the world in which he was regularly abused, he read twsa every day as a form of escapism. Reading teleported him to another world-a snowfield where he could confortably lay. This was his safe haven far away from the pain of his reality. And undeniably, so many people do the same. We use escapism to distract ourselves from trauma and pain. We deny the existence of these experiences and try to forget that they ever happened. But choosing to look away from the present doesn't solve anything. We convince ourselves that we're alright and everything's just fine, reading an entirely different and 'fake' story rather than facing the truth laid out in front of us.

On the other hand, Han Sooyoung was different from those two. She was a writer who crafted her own stories on paper. Piece by piece, she gathered letters from her bare soul to create two novels-twsa and orv. She did this with a clear goal in mind, to save a reader. And we are the fragments of that reader. But Han Sooyoung wasn't the one who truly gave us salvation through writing...it was ourselves. Due to orv's open ending, the story left Han Sooyoung's fingertips and entered the hands of all its readers. Because neither regression nor reading could save Kim Dokja, this was Han Sooyoung's final resort. She let us imagine and write an ending where Kim Dokja could live happily.

Han Sooyoung wrote orv not just so we could survive our own apocalypse, but so that we could allow ourselves to be happy. Because she realized that reading and regressing are just ways to survive, not to live.

What will you do? Will you regress and stay stuck in the past? Will you read and try to forget the bad memories? Or will you write your own story, taking a step forward one sentence at a time?

There's no way to know, but one thing is for certain....

You who are reading this now will survive.

[doodle-pops]

Lords of Gondolin | Dating Reader Who Has PTSD

Request: Headcanons on how the lords of Gondolin would support an SO with PTSD? (Assuming it’s from childhood, not only war, tho that’s probably true for most of middle earth by the fourth age LOL.) - Anon

A/N: I decided to make the request ambiguous, not specifying where the trauma came from and the type, and focused on how they would care for you as a survivor. So you, the reader, can decide the type of trauma.

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ Galdor

Galdor would be exceptionally patient and understanding, offering a steady presence that is always there to listen. He would never push you to talk about your trauma, always waiting for you to open up when you were ready.

His strong, comforting presence would often be felt in the form of gentle touches—a hand on the back, a warm embrace, or simply holding hands. He would use his physical presence to convey safety and support.

He’s aware that nighttime can be particularly daunting for someone with PTSD, Galdor would stay awake, watching over you to ensure you felt safe. Furthermore, he would often wake you from nightmares with soothing words and a calm demeanour.

As someone with a gentle touch and soul, he would create a safe space for you, meticulously arrange your living quarters or design a new wing in the estate to become a haven of peace and tranquillity.

Galdor would engage in activities that can help you to feel more grounded and present, such as gardening, walking through nature or a secluded section of the garden made for you, or crafting. He would even suggest special blends of herbs and incense to ease your nerves.

He would also encourage you subtly, helping you to engage in social situations and daily activities without feeling overwhelmed or alienated. He knows the fine balance between encouragement and pressure.

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ Ecthelion

Known for his musical prowess, Ecthelion would use his skills to soothe you. he would play soft, calming melodies on his flute, creating an environment of peace and tranquillity.

Thel would be incredibly attuned to your emotional needs, offering a shoulder to cry on and always ready with a comforting word. His empathetic nature would make him a perfect confidant.

He would often remind you of your safety, providing gentle reassurance when you feel anxious or triggered. His calm voice would be a constant source of comfort.

You can always count on his protective instincts to be heightened, always ensuring that your environment is secure. He would be super vigilant in keeping potential triggers at bay, creating a bubble of safety around you.

Thel would introduce you to mindfulness and relaxation techniques, guiding you through breathing exercises and meditation to help manage your stress and anxiety. He would even block off an area in his estate to construct a pool or fountain just for you to have your peaceful, meditative, alone moments.

Reading is something to expect with Ecthelion on evenings. He would choose stories that are both engaging and soothing, helping you to relax and feel a sense of comfort before sleep.

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ Glorfindel

Glorfindel’s physical would be a source of comfort, often holding you close, wrapping you in his arms or swaddling you in tons of blankets to make you feel safe. His physical presence would be a barrier against fear.

He does understand the need for distraction, so you can count on him taking you on gentle adventures—exploring nature, riding horses, or simply walking under the stars. These activities would help ground you in the present.

Given his extensive experiences and warrior background, Glorfindel would encourage you to learn self-defence or archery, empowering you to feel in control and capable of protecting yourself. This would be done with patience and care, ensuring it’s a positive experience.

Praising and encouragement are a thing to expect of him as well. Small victories would be celebrated, reinforcing your progress with positivity and encouragement. His enthusiasm would be infectious, lifting your spirits.

He would also use his experiences to share tales of heroism and bravery, drawing parallels to your own strength and resilience. You can bet his stories would serve as inspiration as a reminder of your inner power.

You can always count on his loyalty to be unwavering as he stands by your side through your struggles, reinforcing the fact that you are never alone.

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ Egalmoth

With his keen emotional intelligence, Egalmoth would express his empathy towards your needs intuitively. He would know when to give you space and when to offer comfort without being told.

We all know that Egalmoth does have a playful and childish side to him, so you can expect to come home one day and learn that he constructed an entirely new wing on the grounds just for you to have a safe space. Plus, it will be filled with all your favourite scented candles, flowers, colours and any other personal mementoes.

He is capable of expressing gentle communication, non-intrusive and always asking how you feel and what you need. Your emotional safety will always be prioritised above all others.

He may not have expressed himself as an eloquent musician like Ecthelion, but Egalmoth can still whip up a tune or request musicians to visit and play something soft or tell light-hearted tales accompanied by background music. Something to bring an extra smile to your face.

Expect him to be consistent and a reliable presence whom you can depend on no matter what. His reliability would be a cornerstone of your sense and safety.

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ Rog

Rog’s unwavering strength would be a pillar of support for you. He would be your rock, providing a sense of stability and security that they can always rely on.

He would engage you in physical activities that help release stress and tension, such as sparring, hiking, or working out together. These activities would also serve to strengthen your bond.

Note that Rog would have a straightforward and direct approach to dealing with PTSD, addressing issues head-on but with great sensitivity. He would always be honest, fostering trust through transparency.

He would understand that sometimes words aren’t necessary and that offering comfort through silent companionship is better. Just his simple presence, holding hands, or sitting together would be enough.

At nighttime, Rog would be incredibly attentive, holding you through your nightmares, whispering soothing words, and ensuring they feel safe until they fall back asleep.

He would focus on empowering and encouraging you to take small steps towards overcoming your fears, always there to catch you if you falter. You can’t possibly go wrong with him at your side.

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ Maeglin

Maeglin’s own experiences with trauma would give him a deep understanding of your struggles, and he would use this empathy to connect with you on a profound level. His approach would be full of patience and deep understanding.

Comfort in quiet ways would be provided since he prefers quiet moments, such as reading together, sharing a meal, or simply sitting in silence. His presence would be a calming influence.

Maeglin would encourage you to express your emotions through creativity, whether it be writing, drawing, or crafting. He would often join in, creating alongside you. You might be surprised that he finally teaches you how to craft and bring you along to the workshop with him.

His protective instincts would be heightened, always ensuring your environment is safe and free from triggers. He would be vigilant, always looking out for potential sources of distress.

Maeglin would take the time to understand your specific triggers, helping and teaching you how to avoid them whenever possible and helping you to navigate your daily life with minimal stress. If certain triggers can’t be avoided, he’ll make your environment a safe space.

He would also gently encourage you to confront your fears at your own pace, always offering a hand to hold and a reassuring word. His support would be steadfast and unwavering.

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @rain-on-my-umbrella @mysticmoomin @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @stormchaser819 @aconstructofamind @addaigio @lamemaster @elficially-done-with-life @hermaeuswhora @eunoiaastralwings @zheiya

[elryuse]

Can I request Dom Yandere Jihyo to force the reader to worship her body, both meet in the gym Jihyo gets obsessed with the reader because he is much better than her ex who cheated on her?

!TOTAL SUBMISSION!

Yandere Dom Jihyo X Male Reader

Jihyo grunted with exertion, the familiar burn in her muscles a welcome sting. Sweat plastered her dark hair to her forehead, clinging to the soft curves of her face. Her gym clothes, a black tank top and neon green leggings, hugged her toned body like a second skin. Each clang of the weight plates was a rhythmic counterpoint to the pounding of her heart. Lost in the zone, she barely noticed the new face in the gym until a soft grunt of frustration broke her concentration.

Across the room, a guy with tousled brown hair struggled with the weight on the leg press. His brow furrowed in concentration, and Jihyo couldn't help but notice the way his biceps strained beneath his t-shirt. Curiosity piqued, she padded over, her form a testament to hours spent sculpting her body.

"Hey, seems like you need a spotter," Jihyo offered, her voice light and friendly.

The guy jumped slightly, startled by her sudden presence. He looked up, revealing warm brown eyes that widened in surprise. "Oh, uh, hey," he stammered, a light blush creeping up his neck. "Yeah, I'm not really used to this weight."

Jihyo smiled, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "No worries, happens to the best of us. Let me help you adjust it a bit."

With practiced ease, she demonstrated the proper technique, guiding him through the exercise. As he finished the set, he offered a shy smile and a grateful, "Thanks, I appreciate it."

"No problem," Jihyo winked. "I'm Jihyo, by the way."

"Y/n," he replied, extending his hand. Their fingers brushed, sending a jolt of electricity through Jihyo. It was a fleeting touch, but the memory of it lingered even after she returned to her own workout.

Later that day, after a grueling session that left her muscles screaming, Jihyo finally dragged herself home. She unlocked the door with a tired sigh, picturing a relaxing evening with her boyfriend, Minho. The image shattered the moment she stepped inside.

There, on their living room couch, sat Minho, his arm draped possessively around Nayeon, her best friend. Their laughter, laced with something more intimate, sent a wave of nausea crashing over Jihyo. They were kissing, oblivious to the world around them.

Betrayal, hot and stinging, flooded Jihyo's veins. She didn't scream, didn't cry. Instead, a cold fury settled over her, replacing the exhaustion with a steely resolve. With a calmness that surprised even her, she grabbed a gym bag and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

The familiar clang of weights echoing in the gym was a siren song to Jihyo's rage. Back in the haven of her training ground, she tore off her padded jacket, revealing the sweat-dampened tank top clinging to her toned physique. Every rep, every set became a release valve, channeling the white-hot anger coursing through her.

Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the rhythm of her breathing. "Hey, Jihyo? You alright?"

Y/n stood there, hesitant yet concerned. Jihyo gritted her teeth, the anger momentarily switching targets.

"Yeah, I'm great," she spat, sarcasm dripping from her voice. "Just working out on some frustration I have ."

Y/n frowned, sensing the storm brewing beneath her calm exterior. He didn't pry, but his presence served as a silent anchor in the swirling chaos of her emotions. Jihyo pushed herself harder, each clang of the weights a punctuation mark to her silent vow.

"Hey, I think you could maybe take a break for a minute or two, " Y/n suggested after a while, concern etched on his face.

Jihyo ignored him, her focus solely on the weights. But Y/n wouldn't be deterred. He gently placed a hand on her arm, snapping her focus.

The molten anger in her eyes startled him. Yet, before he could react, Jihyo surprised him even more.

"Come with me," she said, her voice a husky whisper.

Confused, Y/n followed her out of the gym. The night was young, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Jihyo led him to his apartment, her hand never leaving his arm.

Inside, the tension crackled like static in the air. Jihyo tossed her bag aside, her movements brusque and decisive. Y/n, still unsure of what was happening, watched as she peeled off her sweaty tank top, revealing the defined curves of her upper body.

"Worship it," Jihyo commanded, her voice low and dangerous.

Y/n blinked, his confusion morphing into something else entirely as he met the glint in her eyes. Here, in the starkness of his own apartment, Jihyo was a different person, a predator cloaked in sweat and Dread coiled in Y/n's stomach like a hungry viper. He wasn't sure what had gotten into Jihyo, the idol he'd only interacted with briefly earlier that day. Her usual bright energy was replaced by a dark intensity that sent shivers down his spine. Yet, a strange mix of fear and fascination kept him rooted to the spot.

"Worship it," she repeated, her voice softer this time, but laced with a possessiveness that made Y/n gulp. He hesitantly stepped forward, unsure of where this was headed.

"Jihyo, I... I don't understand," he stammered, his voice barely a whisper.

A humorless smile played on Jihyo's lips. "Just touch it," she commanded, gesturing towards her toned abs. "See how hard I've worked for this body. This? This is what you saw at the gym, this is what you helped me with."

Y/n's fingers hesitantly brushed against her warm skin, sending a jolt through him. Her abs were rock-solid, each ripple a testament to her dedication. But the touch felt wrong, charged with an unsettling intensity.

"More," Jihyo hissed, her voice laced with a desperate edge. "Show me you appreciate it. Show me you see me more than just an idol."

Y/n's hand trembled as he traced the line of her sculpted muscles. He wasn't an object for her to use, a statue to admire. Yet, caught in the storm of her raw emotions, he found himself unable to resist.

He gently traced the lines of her sculpted core, marveling at the strength beneath his fingertips. Jihyo let out a ragged sigh, her eyes fluttering closed. Seeing her like this, so vulnerable yet forceful, stirred a potent cocktail of desire and fear within Y/n.

"Lower," she whispered, her voice husky. "Touch me everywhere."

Hesitantly, Y/n trailed his hand lower, the heat radiating from her body scorching his palm. He brushed against the soft curve of her hip, the flimsy leggings doing little to hide the taut muscles beneath.

Jihyo arched into his touch, a low moan escaping her lips. Her eyes snapped open, their intensity magnified by the dilated pupils.

"Good," she breathed, her voice rough with restrained desire. "This is mine. This body, this sweat, this strength... it's all for you to admire. To worship."

Y/n felt a wave of panic rise within him. This wasn't attraction, it was obsession. He understood her anger, the betrayal that had driven her to this desperate state. But he wasn't a replacement, a cure for her emotional turmoil.

He tried to pull away, but Jihyo's grip on his arm tightened.

"Don't leave," she pleaded, a vulnerability slipping through the cracks of her facade. "They betrayed me, everyone did. But you... you saw me. You helped me."

The weight of her words settled heavily on Y/n. He saw the pain flickering in her eyes, the raw vulnerability beneath the fierce exterior. Yet, the possessiveness in her voice filled him with a chilling dread.

"Jihyo, listen to me," he said, his voice firm. "You're hurting yourself. Let me help you."

Jihyo scoffed, the sound harsh and devoid of humor. "You can't help me. But you can do this for me. Just this once, worship what I've built, what I sacrificed for."

Y/n's heart ached for her. He wanted to reach out, to offer genuine comfort instead of this twisted form of admiration. But the look in her eyes, wild and desperate, held him back.

He forced himself to meet her gaze. "Jihyo, this isn't healthy. You need to talk to someone, and get help."

A flicker of anger crossed her face, replacing the vulnerability. "I don't need help," she hissed. "I need someone to see me, the real me. And you saw me at my strongest. Now, show me you appreciate it."

Y/n's mind raced. This wasn't a situation he could reason his way out of. He had to play along, at least for now. But the taste of fear lingered on his tongue, a grim reminder of the web he was getting entangled in.

With a deep breath, he ran his hand along her sculpted arm, tracing the path of her veins that pulsed beneath the surface. He murmured words of praise, hollow and empty even to his own ears.

Jihyo seemed to relax slightly under his touch, her breathing slowing down. But a spark of mania still flickered in her eyes, a stark contrast to the determined idol he'd met at the gym earlier.

The night wore on, a twisted dance of fear and...desire playing out under the harsh glare of the apartment lights. As the fabricated praise flowed from Y/n's lips, Jihyo's initial intensity morphed into something more playful, albeit equally unsettling.

A glint of amusement danced in her eyes. "That's good," she purred, leaning closer until their faces were inches apart. "But can you do better? Imagine this isn't just any body, but the body of your idol, the one you admire from afar."

Y/n swallowed hard, the artificiality of the situation leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. "Jihyo, I—"

"Shh," she cut him off, a finger pressed against his lips. "Just play along. Pretend I'm on stage, bathed in spotlights, and you're a lovestruck fan in the front row."

The image was disturbing, a stark contrast to the Jihyo he'd seen pouring her heart out at the gym. He forced a smile, feeling like a puppet on her strings.

"Alright, Jihyo," he began, his voice strained. "You're incredible. Every step, every move, you radiate power and grace. You're an inspiration."

A triumphant smile spread across her face. "Yes! Now, tell me," she leaned in further, her breath warm against his cheek, "which part of this inspiration do you find most… inspiring?"

Y/n's gaze darted around the room, desperate for an escape. His eyes landed on a framed photo of Jihyo on her shelf, a radiant smile gracing her face. It was a stark reminder of the vibrant idol he'd admired, not the woman currently manipulating him.

"Your smile," he blurted out, relieved to have landed on something safe. "It's… beautiful."

Jihyo's smile faltered for a split second, a flicker of disappointment crossing her features before it was masked by amusement once more.

"My smile, huh?" she drawled, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm. "That's a bit generic, don't you think? What about something a little more… specific?"

Dread coiled in Y/n's stomach. He knew where this was headed, and a part of him desperately wished he could rewind the night and walk out the door.

"Like what?" he managed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jihyo's playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a hungry intensity. Her eyes burned into his, a possessive glint that sent shivers down his spine.

"Tell me," she pressed, her voice a husky murmur, "what part of this body you found most… tasteful at the gym?"

Y/n's cheeks burned with shame. He knew what she was referring to, the sculpted muscles that had served as a silent anchor during her emotional turmoil. The very muscles he'd praised moments ago now felt like a trap, a reminder of the unhealthy dynamic he was caught in.

Hesitantly, he mumbled, "Your… Strength It's impressive."

Jihyo's face broke into a wide grin, a touch too wide to be genuine. "My Strength, huh?" she repeated, her voice laced with something that sounded suspiciously like a challenge.

Suddenly, she grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the center of the room. Relief washed over Y/n, a small spark of hope flickering amidst the growing fear. Maybe she was done with this strange charade?

But his hopes were quickly dashed as Jihyo positioned him in front of a full-length mirror. Her eyes, alight with a manic glint, locked with his.

"Now," she purred, her voice a seductive whisper, "tell me, how strong do you find me… right now?"

Y/n's reflection stared back at him, a stranger caught in a twisted game of obsession. He knew he couldn't keep playing along, not without risking further entrapment. But the possessiveness in her eyes, the raw desperation beneath the facade, terrified him of the consequences of refusal.

He stood frozen, caught in a web of fear and a misplaced sense of responsibility towards the fractured woman before him. The silence stretched, thick with tension, as Jihyo's playful demeanor morphed into something far more dangerous. The line between admiration and obsession, he realized with a jolt of terror, had already been crossed.

The silence was shattered by a loud rapping at the door. Jihyo's head snapped up, a flicker of annoyance crossing her features. It was a distraction, unwelcome at this moment.

Y/n, still reeling from the intensity of the situation, looked at the door with a flicker of hope. Maybe whoever it was could be a way out of this twisted game.

The rapping became more insistent, accompanied by muffled shouts. "Jihyo, open up! We need to talk!"

Recognition dawned on Jihyo's face. A smirk played on her lips, replacing the manic intensity with a calculated coldness. "Looks like my ex decided to grace me with his presence," she announced, her voice dripping with disdain.

Y/n's heart sank. This was not the kind of escape he'd envisioned. In fact, it might make things worse.

Jihyo marched towards the door, her grip tightening on Y/n's hand in a silent show of possessiveness. He flinched at the sudden contact, the feeling a stark contrast to the playful teasing of moments ago.

Swinging the door open, Jihyo revealed a flustered Minho, Nayeon trailing behind him with a sheepish look.

"Jihyo," Minho began, his voice laced with a desperation that Y/n found repulsive. "I... I'm so sorry. Can we please talk?"

Jihyo let out a humorless laugh, the sound echoing eerily in the small apartment. "Talk?" she repeated, her voice low and dangerous. "There's nothing left to say."

She glanced back at Y/n, a possessiveness glinting in her eyes that sent shivers down his spine. But there was something else there too, a silent plea for validation. Taking a deep breath, Y/n squeezed her hand back, a gesture of silent support.

Jihyo's lips curved into a triumphant smile, a stark contrast to the defeated look on Minho's face. "See, Minho?" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "This is what happens when you cheat on someone who actually cares about you."

She then turned to Nayeon, her gaze cold and unforgiving. "And you," she spat, "consider yourself lucky I don't expose your two-faced ways to the entire fandom."

Nayeon shrunk back, shame coloring her cheeks. The once confident idol looked like a scolded child under Jihyo's withering gaze.

With a final flourish, Jihyo wrapped her arm around Y/n's waist, pulling him close. "Now, if you'll excuse us," she said, her voice laced with a dangerous sweetness, "me and my new boyfriend have more important things to attend to." Without hearing answers from both minho and Nayeon, Jihyo immediately shut the door close.

The echo of the slammed door hung heavy in the air, a grim punctuation mark to the dramatic scene that had just unfolded. Jihyo, her eyes still blazing with the embers of righteous anger, turned back to Y/n. The possessiveness that had flickered earlier now burned with an unwavering intensity.

"Did I do good?" she asked, her voice small, a stark contrast to the fierceness she'd displayed just moments ago.

Y/n, heart hammering against his ribs, knew a lie wouldn't suffice anymore. He saw the desperation clinging to her like a second skin, the raw emotion that had fueled her actions. He opened his mouth to speak, to offer some semblance of comfort, but Jihyo cut him off.

"No words," she said, her voice firm despite the tremor in her hands. "Show me."

Before he could react, she grabbed his face, her grip surprisingly strong. Her lips, once playful, met his in a searing kiss, a desperate plea for validation masquerading as passion. It was a kiss unlike any he'd ever experienced, a mix of desperation and possessiveness that sent shivers down his spine.

He tried to pull away, a feeble attempt against her iron grip. "Jihyo, this isn't—"

"Quiet," she hissed, her voice laced with a dangerous edge. "This is how it has to be. You saw me at my strongest. Now, show me you appreciate it. All of it."

Y/n's mind raced. This wasn't a game anymore. This was obsession, a twisted need for control that terrified him. He knew he should fight back, break free from her hold. But the vulnerability flickering in her eyes, a stark contrast to the possessiveness, held him back.

He forced himself to respond, the kiss hollow and devoid of any genuine emotion. Every touch, every brush of their bodies, felt like a betrayal of himself, a descent into a dark and twisted fantasy.

Jihyo, however, seemed to revel in it. Her grip tightened, her movements becoming more aggressive, a stark contrast to the playful teasing of earlier. In her mind, this wasn't a night of manipulation, but a night of claiming what was hers. This man, who had witnessed her vulnerability, her strength, was now bound to her by an unspoken oath of secrecy and a twisted form of intimacy.

As the night wore on, the line between admiration and obsession blurred beyond recognition. Jihyo, fueled by a warped sense of possession, showed no signs of letting go. And Y/n, trapped in a web of fear and misplaced empathy, found himself playing along, a prisoner in the idol's twisted game of love and obsession.

The night ended not with a sweet promise, but with a chilling silence. Jihyo, her eyes glazed with a manic gleam, held Y/n close, her grip a physical manifestation of the emotional shackles she'd placed upon him. He knew then, with a chilling certainty, that this wasn't the last act of this bizarre play. This was just the beginning, a tangled web of obsession that would bind him to the idol in ways he never could have imagined.

~ The End ~

[solaneceae]

consume

a team bolas oneshot (read on ao3) tw: cannibalism, fuga impossivel references

“Hey, Slime. Can I eat your leg?”

The hybrid makes a huh of confusion, still adjusting his trusty gas mask over his face as he loots his own dead body, codified arm still glitching from fresh respawn. Cellbit can hear Jaiden and Étoiles conversing nearby, Bagi and Tina not too far from them, and the entire area reeks of blood and death.

Red Spawn had, strangely enough, become some kind of safe haven for now — people from all teams that were begging for a break, for a chat, for any modicum of normalcy had started to flock there as the end Day Four drew near: separated lovers falling into each other’s arms, Étoiles coaching everyone on PvP techniques regardless of affiliation (because the guy just thrived on being kind and helping people become the best version of themselves, it seemed. Cellbit appreciated that), his very presence a deterrent to anyone who would dare to come and break the temporary peace (BadBoyHalo).

And now that they didn’t have to look over their shoulder every second, the cat hybrid had started to think. A risky endeavour in a place such as Purgatory, but after exchanging a heated kiss with his husband and getting the sudden urge to bite his mouth off, he had started to wonder.

There were so many bodies around their spawn. He had seen many for the past few days, most of them belonging to his own team, but the urge to chow down on fresh meat had been nowhere as strong as right then with Roier, not even close. (First day had been the odd one out, as everyone in red team had lost their minds to the fog and joined in on that fucked up banquet.)

A hypothesis is blooming in his mind. He needs to test something. “Can I eat your leg?” he repeats to a befuddled Charlie, who looks at him, then at his body, then back at him. “I mean. Sure? Knock yourself out.”

Cellbit does — and it’s disappointing. It starts off nice, his heart hammering inside his ribcage as he severs muscle and bone and tendon to rip Slime’s leg off his still cooling body, saliva pooling in his mouth as his pupils dilate to eat up all the blue, and he can feel it, the thrill, the desire, the manic joy; but then he bites into it and the leg loses solidity, turning into green goop that tastes like grass and it’s so sour, like an unripe lemon. He spits it all out, grimacing — his palate and tongue almost feel burned. He forgot slimes were corrosive. “Tastes like shit,” he huffs, and Charlie lets out a disappointed aw.

Results: inconclusive. Cause: negative bias, because Charlie is a fucking slime and hence an outlier. 

He asks Jaiden next, and she shrugs and tells him to go for it. (Maybe they should be worried about how flippant they’ve all become about cannibalism, but that’s a problem for post-Purgatory them to deal with.) And this time, it’s good. Her flesh is tender and moist, just the right balance of muscle and fat, and he gets a sick sense of satisfaction as she watches him tear into her thigh with morbid fascination. “How do I taste like?” she asks him. He tells her ‘delicious’ between two mouthfuls of prime cut, and she smiles. “Nice! I’m glad.”

Contrary to what some might believe, he hadn't eaten anything off the Federation workers he had killed. Hadn't reached that point at the time. But now there he is, seeking an enemy body among the dozens of Jaidens lying around. When he finally does, he stares down at it for a long moment, and finds that he has no desire to sink his teeth into it at all. Mmh. He looks up to find Roier, still silent to mind his recovering lungs and plopping down signs that make Étoiles crack up, and he’s so funny and cute and strong and Cellbit wants to crawl into his chest cavity and— “Ah,” he realises, something old and crooked at the back of his mind finally clicking into place.

He thinks of Pac. He thinks of Alcatraz, of that desire that had torn its way into his brain as soon as he had seen that youthful, terrified face for the first time. He thinks of those nights tossing and turning, tongue flicking out in a nervous tick as he obsessively rotated the new guy into his mind from every angle, trying to imagine what his screams would be like, how his flesh would taste, how it would feel going down his throat. He thinks of the pure, unadulterated pleasure of finally making that fantasy a reality, details blurring into red-mist bliss and the song of Pac screaming and crying. He finds that if he had to do it all again, right now, he would, but not like this. This time, dream-Pac would offer himself willingly, repeating I trust you, I trust you as dream-Cellbit reverently slices through his flesh.

He thinks of that thing humans have, when they experience the urge to squish or bite when they see something cute. He thinks of the result of his observations, that he only enjoys eating people if he cares for them.

(Maybe he had loved Pac once, in a fucked up version of a crush distorted by his mania and lifetime worth of trauma. Maybe that was why he had done what he’d done. Now the engineer was more akin to a brother to him, close and important, but that obsessive attraction wasn’t there anymore.)

Maybe it’s just in his nature, to consume the very things he loves. “Something on your mind?” Jaiden asks him later, sleepily, her head resting against his side as the rest of the family dozes off within the Nest in a tangle of limbs and soft blankets. Cellbit shakes his head. “Just. Processing stuff.”

Jaiden hums, and Phil drapes one of his large black wings over them both. The conure chirps, flock, home, and the crow replies with a quiet yesyes.

[simplykorra]

the beauty of your repair - final chapter

Ava is running late. Not that it’s a huge deal, her plans with Beatrice were casual and very last minute, but when Beatrice asks her to come over Ava takes every opportunity she can to be with her.

She had every intention of leaving the gym right away after her workout, but when one of the trainers told her they liked the way she helped someone with their technique, it turned into a whole conversation about Ava’s potential as a personal trainer.

Which was not at all on her bingo card for the future but they ended up talking for almost thirty minutes and Ava left the conversation thinking about how much fun it might be.

She’s grown to love the gym, so much so that she’s the one dragging Mary to it now. It’s become her safe haven, it gives her a place to burn off her energy and maintain her focus. From yoga to weights and cardio training, Ava goes five times a week.

With every intention of asking Bea if she wants to start working out with her.

Tonight though, Ava is sprinting up the steps of the dispensary towards Bea’s apartment, cheap protein shake in hand and carrying her gym bag with a change of clothes.

When she reaches the door, Ava lifts one arm and smells herself, frowning as the stench of her workout fills her senses. Beatrice knows where she was and she knows Ava’s a sweater - still it’s not ideal.

But she’s here and she wants to see her girlfriend so she knocks and tucks her arms tightly at her side.

As the door opens, Ava hears the sounds of Fleetwood Mac coming from Beatrice’s little portable speaker.

Cosmo is lying on the floor in his dog bed that’s about a size too small. His head lifts up and his tail wags a little, but he’s clearly half asleep and doesn’t get up.

The Ava novelty has worn off a little for him.

That’s when she takes in the sight of Bea, with her hair tied back in a loose ponytail and wearing a loose fitting button down with the sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons undone. She has a broom in her hand and a smile on her face.

“Hi,” Ava breathes, suddenly losing her voice a little.

CONT ON AO3

[empydoc]

SOUL EATER AU geordi & cutie

check out the masterpost here!

welcome to a redacted soul eater au post! here, i try and discover what it'd be like if you merged the soul eater world and mechanics within the redactedverse. this is the fourteenth post in the series! we've got geordi & cutie on the menu today. enjoy!

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geordi — soul type: weapon weapon type: shield compatible with: n/a (cutie, previously)

geordi's weapon form being the absence of weaponry itself is an oddity. it isn't often that someone's form is defensive in nature instead of the opposite. however, geordi finds his weapon form to be a safe haven. no matter what'll change, one things stays consistent- he isn't to harm. not only does he not want to, but he can't.

because geordi is unempowered his soul doesn't have any unique abilities or quirks, but after learning from cutie that things can get incredibly complicated with empowered compatibility, he finds he enjoys that there's a lack of confusion within his soul. he'll settle for simple.

i like the idea that those who have 'defensive weapon forms' are often said to be unfortunate sorts. fortunately, geordi likes that, though. i see him as the type to stay unengaged with fights, and protect who he cares for if it's in his ability.

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cutie —  soul type: meister strongest meister ability: soul resonance - a technique where special attacks are made when resonating with their weapon's soul. compatible with: n/a (geordi, previously)

as a telepath, cutie doesn't have any exceptional additional abilities when it comes to their weapon-meister participation- except the fact that with a special connection to their meister/weapon, they can connect with them on a far larger scale. telepaths who have a meister/weapon partner often are able to communicate with them at longer distances. however, this can only proceed if both parties are aware of that and consenting to it happening.

despite cutie's strongest ability being soul resonance, they found that whilst compatible with geordi, they were never able to use it purely due to the fact that geordi doesn't have a typical offensive use for his weapon form.

telepaths were a second thought for this au because i simply couldn't think of what could make them special. fortunately, when writing this i sort of just came up with the soul-connection-long-distance-telepathy thing, which isn't necessarily something that cutie may be able to use with geordi now that they aren't partnered, but it's certainly something another telepath and his partner might be able to utilise ;)

lite backstory: for every post i make for the characters, i'll add some au backstory to really fill in some details you may be curious about!

cutie and geordi dated as per usual in the canon storyline. their break went the same as well, but something that geordi struggled to come to terms with during the relationship alongside all else was the fact that cutie was desiring a partner who'd hunt kishin souls with them. as much as geordi supported such a thing, he knew that wasn't in the cards for him, and somewhat struggled to explain this to a very determined and enigmatic cutie. this was something they talked over and eventually found disagreements on.

nowadays, they find common ground on it, agreeing that they wouldn't be a weapon/meister duo even if they got back together- and they're both alright with that.