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sukimii · 2 years

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Keeping Secrets

Tags: high school slice of life, slight fluff, swearing, there's a short scene of kissing nothing too descriptive, secret relationship trope.

Summary: When Mina gets the feeling that the Bakugou Katsuki might be having a crush on you, she will not stop at anything until the tea is spilled.

Despite coming across as aloof, Mina is incredibly observant when it comes to small details. Nothing escapes her keen eye or acute hearing. That's why she vehemently believes that you and Bakugou are dating.

The very first thing that Bakugou did to make her think that he might like you, was when three months ago she caught him staring at you. But it wasn't the usual Bakugou stare, no, no, no. It was something more like a daydreamy look.

She vividly remembers how calm he looked. There wasn't a glint of anger in those crimson pools.

Curious by nature, she followed his line of sight, and to her surprise, you were outside watering the plants outside the entrance of the Heights Alliance. Just to make sure she wasn't interpreting it wrong, she took a double-take, and undoubtedly, Bakugou was watching you. Her gaze flickered between you and Bakugou multiple times, flabbergasted.

She knows you're pretty, smart, and sometimes borderline sarcastic, and an overall enjoyable presence, but she never thought Bakugou could be interested in you. Well, Bakugou generally didn't strike her as someone who could like someone. He barely tolerates his classmates, let alone view one romantically.

Plus, she never saw you and Bakugou interact unless needed. Since you transferred during the second semester of their second year, more precisely in September, up until their final year, she never saw you two exchange words outside of classes. And Bakugou isn't necessarily the type to fall in love with someone he never talked to.

The second thing she noticed that was something out of ordinary, and that further reinforced her theories, was Bakugou's body language.

Now that the idea of him crushing on someone was deeply seeded into her brain, she began noticing small things here and there. She noticed how in a group one of his feet is always pointed towards you, or how his attention would be -discreetly- on you as soon as you opened your mouth. The fact that he would imperceptibly lean towards you, to the point of barely grazing your shoulder, was again, utterly surprising to her.

She didn't notice beforehand all those things, but now, they were like blaring in her face. Him occupying the seat next to you on the couch when gathered with the rest of the classmates, him brushing your shoulder when going somewhere despite the amount of space available, the bottles of water he pretends to buy for himself only to sneak it into your backpack, the way he helps you when it's your turn to do the chores masking it as if annoyed that you're taking so long and get in his way, the little squeeze he gives your pinky when you're up for a training battle, and so many more.

Part of her is disappointed that she hadn't noticed it before, but another part was quite impressed by Bakuguo's and your skill at hiding it for so long.

Being sure of herself, firmly believing that you and Bakugou were in a relationship, Mina felt confident enough to confront her friend. And after two weeks of attentive observation, she did just that. But got shot down immediately when Bakugou grimaced and told her to "stop reading that romance shit, is messing up with that shitty fried brain of yours".

Nonetheless, Mina has faith in whoever or whatever is watching over her. She knows that the universe is on her side, she knows that Bakugou can't fool her forever, and that whether sooner or later, something will happen. Something far more incriminating than those subtle, barely noticeable gestures.

And a week later, her prayers were answered. It all happened by pure coincidence.

After an excruciating extracurricular hour to recuperate that abominable low grade she got on her modern literature essay, which Cementoss kindly described as a 'written skit of dead cells trying to revive each other', Mina found herself walking around Ground Omega.

She was trying to clear up her mind, looking for some natural distractions to briefly forget about her grades and failed essays. But imagine her surprise when she stumbled upon no other than Bakugou Katsuki and you, sitting underneath a tree and eating. With picnic cloth and different dishes sitting on it.

She stood frozen, eyes blown wide open looking at a relaxed Bakugou feeding you slices of fruits.

If she were to tell her classmates no one would believe her. She crouched behind a bush, keeping her eyes on the scene while frantically searching for her phone, but to her horror, she had left it in her room before leaving for the extracurricular class.

"If you have some free time tomorrow, can we go get Bubble Tea?"

Bakugou took a napkin and wiped the trail of watermelon juice dripping down your chin.

"Yeah," He said, picking up a strawberry and pushing it against your lips. You took it, eyes trained on him. "I gotta train with Deku for a couple of hours after school, then we can go, 's that alright?"

"Don't you have to take a shower? And get dressed?"

"D'ya want me to wear a suit or some shit?"

"No. But can you wear a muscle top? The one with the turtle neck? Looks really good on you"

Mina can see Bakugou's ears turning a violent shade of red. She wanted to squeal so bad at the sight but decided to suppress it.

" 'm not gonna wear one just because you want it." He muttered, redness extending down his neck, while you smiled.

"Sooo~ I take it as a no?"

"I'll wear whatever the fuck I want" you laughed, leaning into him for a kiss, which he reciprocated immediately. When his arms moved around to pull you flush against him, Mina took it as her cue to leave the scene.

As much as she wanted details about the relationship you shared with Bakugou, violating your privacy was the last thing she planned on doing.

That evening, she didn't see when you came back from the romantic getaway, but she definitely saw Bakugou wearing a muscle shirt with a turtle neck the very next day before leaving the dorms.

She realized long ago that not only does Bakugou like you, but he is also already dating you, and for whatever reason, both of you are keeping it a secret.

She knows that no amount of pestering will make her explosive friend admit the truth, he's known for being as stubborn as steel, but even that last one isn't entirely unbreakable. Under pressure, anything can break.

So, she comes up with the perfect plan to make him reveal everything. She managed to involve the majority of her classmates, and while you and Bakugou were probably out on a date, she summoned her helpers in the common room, gathering them all in a circle. She had started by explaining her findings from the beginning, all the way to the little date she unintentionally stumbled on.

"Mina, not to burst your bubble, but I don't think Bakugou is capable of dating anyone-kero"

"No Tsu, you don't understand, I saw them with my own eyes!"

"Maybe he was just helping her with the flowers in her hair? I know that her quirk produces a lot of them during springtime since it's their season. And L/n-san said that it's difficult to keep them from popping out, spring beauties are known to-"

"Midoriya, I know what a kiss looks like. They were kissing."

"But still, we're talking about Bakugou… and from what Y/n told me, she isn't interested in dating at the moment"

"Ochako not you too! I swear on my beauty products that they are sneaking around like fools in love!"

"Man, Bakugou is a tough one to date, and I don't think sweet L/n-chan can deal with someone as tough as him. I mean, one can be patient only for so long with Bakugou, especially if they're dating him."

"Believe me Sero, he is anything but tough with her, he was feeding her! Like, literally grabbing the food and putting it in her mouth!"

"Now that I think about it, there are moments when he checks his phone and smiles. I think he was messaging someone. You think that might be Y/n?"

"Yes, Kiri! See? I'm telling the truth!" She wailed her hands toward the hardening hero, looking expectantly at her classmates. But the looks on their faces told her that no, they still don't believe her.

"Just help me out on this! Please!"

Everybody exchanged looks, some were skeptical, while other were purely curious to see what would come out of this situation, and slowly but surely they all agree.

"Perfect!"

The plan was simple, but if executed correctly can bring great results. Uraraka, Midoriya, and Tsuyu are the ones in charge of you. All they have to do is to keep you busy, all the time, by taking turns with whatever was at hand. Homework, watching movies, playing games, training, anything really. While Kirishima, Sero, and Kaminari take care of Bakugou. The plan of attack was again, easy, the end goal is to make you and Bakugou spend less and less time together until one of you snaps. Mina was the only one that could switch parties since she was both a close friend of you and your boyfriend.

And that's how operation make-bakuy/n-snap began the very next day with Mina giving the headstart.

"What the fuck do you want?"

Mina giggles, bringing her hands back while leaning toward him.

"Just a little help with my studies~"

"No, you can do that shit by yourself"

"Please, please, please! I really don't want to fail this one!"

"I ain't got time for-"

"Please, Bakugou! You're the smartest person I know"

"I ain't gonna help ya"

Mina sighs, pretending to be defeated by his rejection.

"I didn't think tutoring me would be too much for you, sorry, I'm gonna go and ask someone els-"

"Too much of what for who you dipshit? Nothing is too much for me!"

"But it is! Teaching me is too much work. It's fine, really, I can-"

"Fuck you raccoon eyes, I will beat all that shitty literature into your shitty brain that you'll be dreaming it for the next goddamn decade!"

"Really?!"

"Hell yeah!"

"Thank you! See you after school!" She squeals, moving then to talk to Midoriya. Only then does Bakugou understand what exactly occurred, and how Ashido tricked him. His right eye twitches in annoyance, pulling out his phone. Great. Now he has to cancel plans with you.

But before he could type out a message, yours pops up.

From: Springbeauty

Is it alright if we postpone the date? Ochako wants to visit the cat Café down the road and said no one wants to go with her

Bakugou's frown deepens. Part of him wants you to be upset by it, but another part of him was glad that you had a way to kill time since he too would be busy with two idiots. Though, he still doesn't like this turn of events.

From: KatSuki

Yeah

Raccoon eyes wants my help with literature

Discount Pikachu is fuckin starin' probably will tag along

From: Springbeauty

Didn't she say yesterday that she was going to study with Yaomomo?

From: KatSuki

dunno

she-

Before he can type out a reply, Present Mic entered the classroom. He quickly pockets his phone, and as much as he'd like to take a peek at you, to see if you were waiting for his response, he decides against it. Instead, he sulks into his chair, lips curled downwards in a pout.

The exchange didn't go under Mina's radar. After all, she was right behind him, pretending to talk about something important with Midoriya, and it gave her enough time to get a peek at the nickname.

She expected him to call you something like 'plants', 'weeds', or even 'Flower girl'. Maybe nickname you after one of your physical traits, as he does with Yaomomo when calling her 'ponytail'. But no, yours was sweet, despite it still being related to your quirk.

Now that she thinks of it since you transferred he never used insulting names, always using 'Oi' whenever he needed to get your attention when in public. Could that be his way of keeping the relationship under wraps while still giving you special treatment?

Suppressing the grin that was threatening to split her face, Mina shifts her focus on Present Mic, hastily maneuvering her way to the assigned desk.

Bakugou is irritated, and that much should be a clear indication for his classmates to not pester him. But as usual, no one makes a big deal out of it, he had always been like that, for them it's nothing out of the ordinary.

Yesterday he didn't get a minute away from his friends, and whenever he wanted to call you, one of them would suddenly have some sort of problem that needed his help. After helping Mina and Denki out, Bakugou thought he would be free, but Kirishima asked if he could go with him to the convenience store because he ran out of his favorite snacks. He was planning on refusing until he saw you being dragged by Mina, Gods only know where, and he found himself agreeing.

The worst part was that the same thing kept repeating, over and over again for the following days. If he was lucky enough to get some time away from his friends, you'd be busy with them, and vice versa. Even the good morning texts were cut short all because either Kaminari or Kirishima barged into his room when the sun was barely peeking over the horizon, startling him from sleep, with the excuse of taking breakfast together.

Plans kept being postponed, day after day, and all because his classmates suddenly craved bonding time with him and you. And he hated it. He hated it so much that he was ready to AP Shot the entire dorm.

By the fourth day, Bakugou is a walking bomb, threatening to explode at any given moment. He is snapping left and right at the smallest inconvenience, snarling at everyone that dared to breathe in his direction, and during training earlier that day, he went extra harsh on Kirishima, which couldn't even get a chance to attack, able only to maintain a defensive stance the whole duration of the training.

It was unfair. It felt like the universe was against him for some unknown reason. For most of his life, he had lived without needing affection because it made him feel vulnerable and weak, but when you showed him how nice it is to be held, spooned, and pampered with hugs and kisses, he realized how much he needed all of it. But now, only four days of no interaction with you, and he feels like he's going to implode.

It's unfair because whenever he thinks he can finally go to you, talk to you, and hold you, someone spawns from no-fucking-where and snatches you away, leaving him dumbfounded in the halls.

But it's not like you're doing any better. He can see the pout on your pretty face when you meet his eyes. He can feel the longing in them, and he wants to envelop your body into a big, tight hug to reassure you that everything is fine. If only his classmates stopped interfering like some little shits.

It's during the weekend that Bakugou finally snaps.

Friday night he stayed awake past his bedtime to talk with you over the phone and made plans to meet you outside the school grounds early Saturday. He found a Cafe, a cute one that he knows you'll like and that serves your favorite drink.

He's confident everything will work out, that's why he manages to have a restful night. But of course, he forgot how annoying his friends can be.

The living proof is Kaminari, which decides to block the entrance exactly when he's supposed to leave.

Bakugou can feel the vein on his forehead throb, and he is awfully close to howitzer impact his face into the ground. Gritting his teeth, trying his hardest to not lose his temper, Bakugou barks out his annoyance.

"The fuck you want dunceface?"

"I need your he-"

"Fuck you, no"

"Please? I have this new move and I want to see if it works against your explosions, all you have to do is po-"

"No"

"C'mon please! I promise I'll buy you lunch if you help me out just this once!"

Bakugou wants to tell him to get lost but stops when he sees you being dragged around by Mina and Uraraka, again. His eyes narrow, eyebrows furrowing at the scene, anger already seeping up and down his back.

"Where are you lovely ladies going?" Kaminari asks, shooting them a knowing grin, which both you and Bakugou don't catch, too worried about yet another date needing to be delayed.

"To the new shopping center!" Mina squeals in excitement. Bakugou looks at you, silently questioning what was going on, but you pout, just as lost as him.

"Let's go Y/n-chan!"

Bakugou's fists curl, anger quickly filling his entire being. All of them bothered both him and you the entire week, he spent little to no amount of time with you, if he managed to exchange a simple 'hey' it was by a pure miracle.

Today is supposed to be an entire day spent together. Today you're supposed to spend time with him, at the Cafe, at the park, at the restaurant and then at the cinema. All-day is supposed to be only you and him. Not at some mall without him.

Before Mina can open the door, Bakugou grips your other wrist, pulling you towards him.

"You can go without her"

"Uh, no? It's a girls' outing."

"And where the fuck are the others?"

"Jirou and Momo are visiting their parents, Hagakure said she's studying and Tsuyu is training. We are the only ones free so-"

"So you will fuck off and go with only Deku's girlfriend."

Uraraka's face explodes in a bright shade of red, frantically looking around to make sure that Midoriya wasn't around to hear, whispering a passive-aggressive "we're not dating…. yet"

Bakugou scoffs. "As if I care. Piss off, she's busy" He tugs your arm, but Mina holds onto your other one just as tight. Your grip on Bakugou's shirt doesn't go unnoticed by her sharp eyes.

"Busy with what?"

"None of your damn business"

"Yes it is, she's coming with us to the mall"

"Is your brain made of raccoons as well? I told you she's fucking busy!"

"No, she's not!"

"Yes, she is!"

"No. She is not!"

"Yes, she is!"

"WITH WHAT?"

"WITH ME, YOU FUCKER!"

"AND WHY WOULD SHE?"

"BECAUSE I'M HER GODDAMN BOYFRIEND!"

Mina grins, internally cheering at her victory. She drops her hold on your wrist and watches in amusement as Bakugou cradles you into his arms.

"So it is true!" Uraraka claps her hands, eyes wide open on the couple. You can feel heat travel up your cheeks, and decide to nuzzle against Bakugou's chest hiding as much as possible.

"Now scram! If you pull another shitty stunt I'll blow your asses into unrecognizable bits of ashes!" And just like that, he drags you out, fully intent on making the most of the day.

Mina, Uraraka, and Kaminari watch as you exit the UA grounds, hand in hand. Then, more of their friends gather around the entrance.

"I'm sorry I doubted your detective skills, Mina-chan"

"Me too-kero"

"Can't believe you were right"

"I can't believe that Bakugou is getting it before me!"

"That was so manly!"

Mina puffs out her chest, hands on hips as she turns to look at her friends, a devious smile taking over her face. The satisfaction is pretty much readable on her face, and she soaks a little into the praises before speaking again.

"Who's ready to ambush them and squeeze out more juicy details about their relationship?"

#bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou headcanons #bakugou imagine #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou fluff

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chaninfused · 3 months

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Dead Men Don't Speak | Lee Felix

◤“Perhaps he should have been afraid then, when she smiled and her eyes reflected nothing but an endless, unfeeling void.” In which a detective's assistant seeks the aid of an infamous killer to find his missing friend. ◤Disclaimers: Female reader insert. Chapter two from the ‘dead men don’t speak’ series. A sprinkle of angst. Descriptions of violence, murder, injury, and blood. Mentions of death and dead characters. Sparse use of vulgar language. ◤Word count: 2.5K ◤Note: This idea is mine and any case of similarity with someone else’s is purely coincidental. Events are pure fiction. Please do not take my content without my consent. Masterlist. ◤ From the author: This series has been a while in the making and I'm super excited to finally share it with you all! Fair warning, though, many characters here are very violent and borderline unhinged so if that isn't your cup of tea, feel free to steer away and find something else to read! Thank you for dropping by, and happy reading!

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Felix was afraid of many things—the dark alley behind his apartment building, the rowdy drunks in the dead of night, the stern department head at the station—but he was not afraid of the gun being pointed at his head.

Behind the barrel was a woman he’d only heard of in frightened whispers. The Shadow Front’s Left Claw, the burgundy-dressed killer.

“Nice work, detective,” she said, and when Felix remained silent, she laughed. “Don’t worry, kid, I won’t kill you just yet.”

Kid? He frowned. He was twenty years old. He’d hardly consider himself a kid.

“Had fun snooping around?” she tilted her head. “Tell me, what were you doing here?”

His snarl was like a crack of thunder. “What did you do with Chan?”

“Chan? Ah, your detective friend.”

Felix’s blood became ice in his veins.

“Hah. And you think I know something about him?”

“Of course you do,” he clenched his jaw. “He was investigating you when he disappeared. Tell me what you did to him.”

“That’s exactly what I’m curious about myself. Why were you investigating me?”

“What?”

As though the chill he felt coursing through his body wasn’t enough, another wave slammed into him.

“Surely you didn’t think it would be this easy to track me down?”

It was easy, and it was unbelievable, but Felix had paid it no mind at the time.

“W-Wait…”

Now, though, it felt like the ground was caving in beneath his feet.

“You mean you lured me here…and only to ask that?”

Here, cornered in an alleyway behind the abandoned warehouse which he had been eavesdropping on.

“Look at you. You’re quite adept at your job, detective,” the humor in her voice was as cold as the gleam of her gun, still magnanimously directed at his skull. “Now, tell me. What were you looking for?”

So what if it was all a setup? If answering her questions would give Felix his answers, then so be it.

“There’s a plot of land that the City Council wants to purchase,” he began, holding her cool gaze in defiance of the gaping gun barrel, “But the owner is unnamed and the land itself is suspicious. Senior Investigator Bang Chan was appointed to the task, and our investigation led us to you before he deemed it unsafe. One day later, he’s missing. And you want me to believe it wasn’t your doing?”

There was a stretch of silence before she sighed, retracting her weapon and turning away, “I thought as much.”

Just like that?

Felix peeled himself off the grimy wall and forced his legs to trail after her. “Hold on!”

She was dangerous.

He knew that, and he was sorry to the friend who relentlessly cautioned him, but he needed her.

“Isn’t your partner dead?”

The Shadow Front’s Left Claw, the infamous, burgundy-dressed killer, halted in her step. An excruciating stillness swallowed the narrow alleyway, squeezing the air out of his lungs, and it seemed to last a lifetime and a half—

But then she shrugged her shoulders without a care.

“So they say. They didn’t let me see his corpse, though.”

Whispers of his death had been rippling throughout the underworld. The Shadow Front’s Right Claw, the one-eyed brute who always appeared alongside that murderous woman.

Invoking his name was sure to stir something in her, and Felix was prepared to lie to obtain her aid.

“But it’s curious, isn’t it?” she swiveled around to face him again before he could say anything, and the nonchalance in her tone unnerved him. “My partner dies, and the next day, your detective disappears, both having been investigating a similar case.”

She raised a finger in the air, an eerie imitation of a teacher in a classroom. “My theory is that the two of them stumbled upon information they shouldn’t have and were eliminated as a consequence.”

It was an excellent theory and the worst possible scenario Felix could imagine.

Eliminated?

It couldn’t be. He refused to let it be.

But it made sense. The coincidence was glaring.

“Here’s a deal for you, kid.”

Her voice startled him, suddenly too close as she pressed a single finger square against his chest. Perhaps he should have been afraid then, when she smiled and her eyes reflected nothing but an endless, unfeeling void.

“Work with me and I’ll find your friend for you.”

•⭓•

He wasn’t sure if he imagined it, but there was something amiss about the atmosphere in this car. Felix glanced at your reflection in the tinted window, shuffling through the case files he’d smuggled out of the station.

It was unnerving, this silence of yours.

As though all that had transpired in the alleyway were but an act, you sat there devoid of emotion. Not once did your brows furrow or did your lips press into a concentrated line, body as still as a statue. It was unlike the image Felix had constructed of you after collecting all those street rumors—that wildcard of a mafioso you were in his mind.

Could it be because of that man? Felix wondered.

Perhaps criminals felt grief, after all.

“What’s wrong?”

The other man in the car asked, his eyes not once straying from the road he was driving through.

The righthand man, Felix determined, having nothing but his prior intelligence to piece his identity. The third person in this car was known across the city for his frightening loyalty to none other than the Left Claw—you, who sighed after a moment’s contemplation, “These files are both useful and utterly useless.”

Felix couldn’t stop his shocked interjection. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing here is new information, though I had hoped otherwise. And yet…” you trailed off, flipping through the most recent file.

“You say your detective disappeared on the twenty-third?”

Felix’s balled fists tightened where they were placed over his thighs. “Yes.”

“And his car was found on the highway bordering the Angelrise Forest.”

“Yes.”

“That’s impossible,” you proclaimed, tossing the file in your hands back into the box snugly seated beside you, and your nonchalance caused Felix’s heart to race, panicked.

“What do you—”

“We wiped out the head of the operation that occupied the plot of land on the twenty-second of this month,” you provided, and he exhaled, vaguely relieved.

“So, you do know who the land belonged to.”

You fell into that disconcerting silence again, before scoffing so softly, “No. Seems I never did.”

It wasn’t only grief, Felix concluded then, high on the rush of meeting you and sneaking the case files out of the station. There was something dark and bitter twisted within your words. A glimpse that was urgently replaced by a commanding tone, “Jisung, let’s head to the warehouse in the West Port.”

“Are you sure? There might be nothing left there,” the righthand man, Jisung, expressed his concern with the slightest frown, but his doubts were cast aside by your despondent murmuring.

In the reflection, Felix saw you rest your head against the window, solemnly gazing at the passing scenery.

“Who knows? We might’ve missed something there.”

•⭓•

“Looks like they cleaned this place out already,” Jisung commented, glancing at your surroundings, and you strode past him.

“Still, let’s see if we can find a clue.”

Somehow, Felix had tagged along this search and now found himself trudging through the rubble and soot-covered remains of this dubious warehouse. The structure of the building survived the minor explosion, miraculously, but the roof of the once-warehouse had been completely obliterated. So, the rosy sunset sky made for your canopy instead.

Felix didn’t know what exactly he had to be seeking. Amid all the destruction, he doubted anything survived in the first place, and if what Jisung claimed was true, then the chances of finding clues were even smaller.

Yet, he scoured the burnt wreckage because that was what you were doing too. It was only after half an hour’s worth of quiet work did he notice some commotion coming from your direction and stopped his searching.

You were clutching a small item in your hand, blackened and indiscernible, and before Felix could ask about it, you fished your phone out of your pocket and made a hasty call.

“Hey, I found a phone—scorched, practically melted—but do you think you could salvage something from it?”

•⭓•

It had been bothering Felix.

“Good. This might just lead us to them,” you said as you stuffed the burnt phone in your burgundy coat, which was marred with the slightest smudges of soot.

“I hope so,” Jisung concurred. His own suit was all-black, so no evidence of the past half-hour’s work showed on him. “Let’s leave for now. This area is too exposed.”

“I don’t understand,” Felix’s voice cut through your exchange, and the two of you stopped in your tracks to stare at him questioningly.

“I thought you said they were likely eliminated, yet you speak as if they’re merely lost.”

“Oh, I don’t know about your detective, but I know my partner isn’t dead,” you shrugged, and there was that unsettling calmness again. Where he found the courage to keep speaking with you, he didn’t know, but a meager voice in his head whispered that maybe he should cease garnering that mysterious bravery.

That maybe he could live his life without needing to know the inner mind-workings of an infamous killer.

You ambled toward him in lazy steps, hands stuffed in your pockets as you went on.

“I mean…a warehouse explosion is simply too dramatic, it makes no sense. His death would most likely be by a gunshot to the back or something just as anticlimactic.”

But death had no rhyme or reason, that much was a truth Felix knew wholeheartedly. Trying to find justification behind fate’s workings would only extend one’s grief and expend their will.

You came to stand a couple of steps before him and declared with all your twisted normalcy.

“I’m going to find him and kill him myself instead.”

What the actual hell.

“What about you?”

You inquired in spite of the sheer horror that spiked his heartbeat. Kill him?

And there he thought you were grieving.

“He’s your home, isn’t that why you want to find your detective?” you prompted, and you were right. Chan was the only person on this terrible earth he’d consider family.

“That’s good. Homes are nice,” like a random busybody on the street, you kept talking, entirely disregarding the one-sidedness of the conversation. Or maybe you were simply unbothered by it. “I left mine when I was barely a teenager.

“Wanna know what I did when I left?”

Felix wasn’t particularly curious, now, given your recent record.

“I burnt it all to the ground.”

There was no gravity in your tone and clearly not a shred of remorse. Felix was glad he couldn’t see your eyes then, for you had tilted your head to face the darkening sky amid your confession.

“I let the children escape, of course, but everyone else? Gone in a brilliant blaze.”

Arson, murder, and what he could only assume was the world’s most staggering collection of crimes seemed to make up your past. It should’ve made him ill simply thinking about it.

But perhaps he wasn’t thinking, otherwise he would’ve missed the barest whisper that left your lips.

“The sky was beautiful that day. Though, I suppose today is different.”

You brought your attention back to him, mysteriously revitalized despite his non-participation in this conversation. “Tell me, what do you think is the color of the sky?”

“Uh…” Felix blinked, entirely taken aback by both your question and your multiplying scrutiny. For once, you didn’t answer in his silence, and he felt his mouth dry up with sudden dread.

He stole a glance toward Jisung who stood a few steps away in the background, and the man only gave him a pointed look as if to say, ‘just humor her for a moment’.

Left to fend for himself, Felix looked at the sky replacing the roof and found no special answer to give. The sun had set a while ago, and the somber blues of dusk had enveloped the world. Was there something he was missing?

Felix ventured, having nothing else to offer, “I guess…it’s blue?”

You appeared neither disappointed nor satisfied with his response, merely shrugging, “I see,” before turning around and walking away.

As though you had not spent the last few minutes in some strange monologue.

“We’re leaving, detective.”

•⭓•

“Figures you’d bring backup,” your steely voice sliced through the pained groans filling the air.

By all accounts, Felix had no place in this fight, but somehow he found himself a front-row seat, standing alongside Jisung who played with his gun in boredom.

It was all too much for him.

The phone you found in the warehouse did have a salvageable memory chip, despite all the damage it suffered. Once its data was recovered, you did not hesitate a beat to reach out to its owner. As a result, you found yourselves in this present situation.

A man in a standard black suit was in some sort of cruel standoff with you, having been cornered to a dead end. The comrades he brought with him were all down, either dead or dying, and he alone remained to point his gun at you.

“Stay back! The boss won’t— Argh!”

He was cut off by his own scream when you shot at his hand, forcing him to abandon his weapon and drop to his knees in agony.

“Yes, do tell me more about this boss of yours,” you said, that same expressionlessness that unsettled Felix yesterday returning. He watched you from the sidelines as you walked up to the doubled over man and crouched beside him. With the ease and patience of a kind nurse or a goodhearted Samaritan offering help, you placed your hand on his shoulder and pushed him to lie down.

And he obliged, no doubt courtesy of the gun you so politely pressed against his heart.

Felix was beginning to feel it then.

This was all wrong.

Everyone around him was wrong.

“Who do you work for?” you asked simply, gazing down at him, and the man squirmed, hissing through the pain that was surely pulsing through his arm.

“The boss won’t let this slide— He’ll hear about this—”

“Right, so tell me.”

You were bored much like your righthand man standing beside Felix, and it was wrong. So, utterly, disgustingly wrong.

“I’m not telling you anything. You’re fucking insane—!”

His gasps were interrupted by a simple yet catchy tune, and it sounded from somewhere within the man’s suit jacket.

Jisung stopped fidgeting with his gun. Your slow gaze traveled to the source of the sound. And the adrenaline that had been fueling, blinding, Felix for the past thirty-seven hours was finally snuffed out.

You made your mind up in a breath’s time.

“Well, that’s too bad.”

The shot that rang in the air pierced Felix’s ears, immediately killing the mysterious assailant. Without so much as a moment of respect for his death, you reached into the man’s jacket and pulled out the ringing phone.

Felix wanted to scream until his throat bled. Until the savage sickness in his stomach disappeared.

You stood up and answered the call, letting the voice on the other end crackle through the speaker.

“What the hell is your squad doing at the West Port, Jonah?”

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The mystery begins! This entire series is comprised of short fics with bits of the plot sprinkled in for you, the reader, to piece together. That being said, I'd love to hear your thoughts as we go! As usual, a reblog and any feedback would be greatly appreciated. I hope you have a lovely day, and I'll see you again on the 11th of February for the next chapter! ♡

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streamingcolors-gvf · 1 year

Text

Brittle

Moodboard created by @jakekiszkasleftnutsack

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Summary: Frustrated with the way things are going with Jake, you decide you have to confront him on how your fwb relationship wasn’t working.

Word count: 8.5k

A/N: Is anyone else have a series Jake down or is just me? This fic was inspired by The Death of Peace of Mind by Bad Omens. It felt so Jake that I had to do this fic. The smut isn’t too crazy but this has a lot of angst, y’all 💔

**Feedback and thoughts are always welcome and I hope you enjoy this one! … but I’m fully prepared for you all to hate me after this.

Shoutout to @allieboop @asparrowofthedawn , Katie (jakekiszkasleftnutsack) and @pennylanefics for their feedback, input and support ❤️❤️❤️

Warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol consumption, arguing/toxic behavior, this fic angsty as hell, sexually explicit content/ 18+ - MINORS DNI!!! (Unprotected sex, oral f!receiving, some dirty talk, slight m!dom if you squint a lot)

It had been nearly twenty minutes since the notification popped up across your screen while you were watching a mind-numbing youtube video. You had taken the night to stay in, and taking a soothing hot bubble bath had been on the list.

The water had turned lukewarm, almost borderline cold at this point with all the foam of bubbles dissolved into the cloudy concoction of soaps, bath salts and oils. You had been fighting the urge to go to your messages to read it, but the truth was - you had already known what it said when you swiped it away with a wet pad of your thumb.

wyd tonight? come over

The simplicity of the half-assed text only made you angry. The fucking nerve he had to message you something so casual when you hadn’t heard from him for weeks. You could hear the voices of your friends bouncing around your head, telling you something along the lines of ‘not settling for was than you deserve’. That you ‘should cut out the toxic people of your life’. They were right, but why was it so hard?

Those twenty minutes were excruciating because no matter how much you tried to ignore and cast him from your mind as if he was just a minor annoyance - you simply couldn’t. He had overtaken every thought and feeling since the day you met him. Your dreams, day and night were overfilled with moments you would never have.

Throughout your days you wondered what he was doing, what city he was in, even what he was thinking - if it was about you. The idea hurt you more than you could bear, as the reality was you lying awake in the dead of night crying knowing that he wasn’t. How could he? You thought about him like he was a constant in your life, whereas you were just a fleeting moment in his.

You could have just blocked him. There wasn’t a doubt that you should’ve, and some days you wanted to if you could. Something, a looming presence that had a grip on your conscience was keeping you from allowing yourself to press that bold red text. You had to give it to him, he had done a wonderful job at stringing you along just enough to keep you hooked, and you were just too scared to finally cut the line.

The phone suddenly buzzed within the crumpled up towel beside the tub, vibrating away in the buried cloth where you had stowed it to push the temptation away. Reaching over, you picked it up to see the contact across the lock screen.

A picture you had taken with him months ago, a happier memory in time captured with the two of you together was facing back at you. You let it ring silently in your hand and regretfully slid your thumb across the bar before it eventually went to voicemail.

You held the phone up for a few seconds before muttered a displeased, “Hello?”

He huffed a dry laugh, “So you’re ignoring me now?”

“Jake.”

He breathed your name back into the receiver, husky and warm. His voice was enough to crumble the weak walls you had built, and now they were rubble at your feet.

“What are you doing tonight?”

You pulled your foot from the water, hanging it over the tube to watch the droplets drip down your leg as you hummed in a rather sultry tone, “If you must know, I am taking a bath.”

“Mmmmm…sexy,” He hummed, “I wish I was there to see that.”

“Come on over then,” you blurted out before you had the chance to catch the words. The following seconds of silence caused you to wince, worried that you came across desperate.

“I have to get up early in the morning,” It was a poor attempt at an excuse, making your heart sink into the empty pit of your stomach. He added, coaxing you with a honeyed tone to his voice, “Besides, I have the California King here.” He released a throaty laugh, “ All the more room to cuddle you with my dear.”

It was embarrassing how easily a smile formed over your lips. You pulled the phone away to check the time, “I dunno, Jake. It’s late and everything.”

He wasn’t about to let you bail out that easily, brining oh the weapon that was sure to make him win.

“I missed you.”

The hour it had taken to get dressed, crawl into your car and drive the distance to his house your body was a blur of mindless actions, as if you had been possessed by some sort of external force. You weren’t even sure how long you had been sitting parked in the driveway, keys in hand as you scrambled to collect yourself before you would ultimately see him again.

The way things were between you right now weren’t sustainable. There was no denying that. You just worried if you had the courage to confront him on how it made you feel.

You swore to yourself you would stick to your guns, that you would be honest that whatever this arrangement was, wasn’t working for you. With positive affirmations and a few steadying breaths, you exited the car and stepped towards the house.

Your phone vibrated within the depths of your purse, causing you to stop in your path to retrieve it. The lit screen showed another text message from him.

Just come in. In studio

You slid your phone back into your purse as you approached the front door. It was unlocked when you turned the knob, just as promised. You carefully pushed it open and entered the spacious home. The foyer had been dark as the only light source was coming from dimmed lights from the kitchen ahead. Looking around you noticed everything had been left the exact same since the last time you were here.

You knew he had invested in a housecleaner given how everything was kept remarkably clean under the small amount of clutter that was so recognizably him. Most of the living space remained untouched given the busy touring schedule of this year. Despite the almost sterile nature of the home, his favorite band posters hung along the walls, books were stacked randomly on different surfaces, even the many pairs of beloved boots kicked off were scattered near the door.

The muffled noises of his guitar coming from upstairs could be heard through the walls. You kicked off your shoes and padded towards the source, passing by the entrance to the grand kitchen. It had been modernized with the top of the line appliances and stainless steel fixtures, a feature of the home he had been adamant about to the realtor from the start.

You reminisced to the night he had invited you over to cook one of his favorite meals for you. Cooking was one of his passions, but you were more than surprised by his level of skill. You thought back to when you sat there at that kitchen island, with a glass in hand, watching him move around while listening intently to the processes as he rambled on. The way you laughed together, connected to each other felt so effortless - it was carefree. It was an insight into a life of domesticity between the two of you. From that point on, you imagined sharing this space with him more times that you cared to admit, picturing how you could mesh your life seamlessly with his.

Looking into the room now, the cold, almost-barren atmosphere was a painful reminder of what you didn’t have. The fond memories seemed like a lifetime ago, slipping through your hold with each passing day. The only thing resting on the counter tonight were a few used glasses along the bottles of varying amounts filled with whiskey.

You climbed the stairs, and the sounds of him playing grew louder with each hesitant step towards the door of his studio. It was cracked slightly, letting the warm light peak through the small opening.

You considered turning around and going home, but finally pushed it open to see him playing away just like he had been. All of his focus had been pulled into the guitar, and it didn’t appear that he noticed you. His legs were crossed beneath him under the chair, with one of his feet tapping along to the rhythm. His long, brunette locks of hair were draped over most of his face as the ends swayed slightly as he played. You stood motionless, watching in awe as his fingers moved with ease along the prized instrument.

The pure dedication, the unconditional love and every ounce of energy he poured into his music was something to be admired - to be proud of. You felt lucky to even be able to witness it with your very eyes.

After what felt like minutes, he eventually glanced up at you and offered you a soft smile and carefree nod for a glimpse of a second before his gaze was pulled back to his guitar. He was breathtaking, looking just as beautiful as the last time you saw him. The apples of his cheeks were pinkened and flushed, revealing the alcohol buzzing in his system. Those large, dark chocolate irises captured everything you loved about him.

You thought, perhaps foolishly, that your presence would cause him to stop playing so he could properly greet you with open arms, but he didn’t. He went right back to playing, fiddling around with riffs he had been trying to work out. He didn’t speak, and only muttered curses when they didn’t sound as perfectly as he wanted, making him start over each time.

Impatience and frustration began to grow rapidly as the minutes ticked by. Your restlessness wouldn’t allow you to sit and get comfortable, leaving you to stand anxiously by the door waiting for him to notice.

The guilt crept its way up your spine and infiltrated into your mind. If one were to ask, you were supportive of his dream more than anything, desperate to get lost with him, to be consumed by the present and embrace the music around you. That would be too easy and you almost resented him for it. There was no pretending that everything was fine with him, because you knew it would hurt that much more when it came time to leave.

“Jake.” You tried to push your voice over the sound of the guitar, but he didn’t acknowledge you.

A break in his playing gave you an opportunity to say something again, and you jumped on it, “Jake, I think we should talk-“

He was quick to interrupt without even giving the effort to even look at you as he fumbled around with a jumbled series of notes, “Hold on, one sec-“

“God dammit Jake! Would you put the fucking guitar down for one second and listen to me?!” You shouted back at him without restraint, filling the little sanctuary with your unprecedented anger.

You had every intention of talking your feelings over in a peaceful manner when you came here tonight.

Something had set you off, making you unleash everything that you had been pushing back for months and months. All the things you stomped out so you could accept without complaint from fear of losing him forever. Right here, right now, you had enough of being second, or perhaps farther down on the list then you realized.

He paused the movements of his hands the second your heated voice rang through the air. Seconds passed in a dreadful silence until he slowly lifted his head, and just stared at you, wide-eyed and void of an expression. With a rather collected, but stern voice, he asked, “What’s going on with you?”

You released an exasperated sigh while jabbing your hand in the air toward the instrument resting on his lap, “Why did you ask me to come over tonight? You’re more worried about that stupid guitar than you are of me.” He flinched hearing the rage bubbling out from you through the shrillness of your voice. It was coming across more like a child’s temper tantrum than anything else.

He scoffed in disbelief as he slumped back in his chair, “Are you fucking serious right now?”

You kicked yourself that you couldn’t just act like everything was great with a stupid smile on your face. Pretending that this was exactly what you wanted all along, that this unspoken agreement was just fine.

You crossed your arms over your chest, deciding that you’re going to stand your ground, “You know what? Yes, I am. You have barely said anything to me since I’ve been here.”

Confusion painted over his features, causing his brow to furrow while he threw his arms into the air to gesture around the studio , “I thought we were hanging out and having a good time-“

“No, you were having a good time. I’ve been standing here waiting for you to be done.”

He scoffed in disbelief, like he could not fathom that this was a real reason for you picking a fight.

“This is my job. My fucking life, okay?” He lashed back defensively. He had the right to. His dedication to his music was never the source, just the catalyst.

You shot back with a heavy roll of your eyes,“Trust me, you have made that very clear.”

“What is your fucking problem?” He snapped back at you, and the sudden rise of volume to his voice startled you. Things had escalated quicker than you planned, and this argument wasn’t what you had in mind tonight.

He stared at you, searching your face with brows furrowed without a trace of that blissful happiness on his face that was on his face minutes ago, like you had sucked it right out of the room in an instant. It only made you realize that this was a mistake given that he had been drinking and that the emotions were far too raw for you to process.

Turning towards the door, you uttered under your breath, “I’m just gonna go. This is obviously a waste of time.”

He called your name multiple times, but you were already out the door without a response. You were already halfway down the hall when you heard him shuffling to his feet while placing the guitar on its stand.

“Where are you going?!” He yelled out after you as you stormed towards his bedroom. You didn’t have to turn back to know he was hot on your heels.

He stood in the doorway, confused at this sudden change in your behavior. You chose to ignore him, frantically searching around the room. “Where are my things, Jake?”

Your “things” probably consisted of a random hairbrush, a very worn sweatshirt he had given you, a tube of lipstick and maybe a half-broken phone charger. Honestly, all items you could live without or didn’t even realize were missing. It was a matter of principle, to make your point that much clearer.

He huffed out a frustrated sigh while leaning against the doorframe, “Are we really doing this right now?”

Without a hint of compassion, you snapped as you peered into his closet, “Where is my bag of stuff? I want it all back.”

“Can we just talk about this?” He nearly whined, his voice almost as broken as you. Here he was trying to reason with you, to calm you down to a point of understanding, and you were just shoving him off with little to no explanation. There was no arguing about how you were becoming erratic in your actions.

You choked out a sob, fishing for the tiny clasp to the necklace around your neck, “You can have this back. I don’t want your stupid gifts anymore-“

The jewelry might as well have white-hot with how it seemed to burn against your chest. It suddenly felt cheap, like a mockery to your relationship. A sick, cruel joke.

He expressed hurt at the action by closing the distance between you, making you jump when you felt his hands on your arms, “Would you just fucking stop?! What are you doing?”

You threw him off you, causing him to stagger a few steps back from you, “No! No, Jake!”

“Am I missing something here?” The volume and pitch of his voice was so unlike him, “I thought we were having fun.”

Having fun.

“That’s just it. It’s all just fun and games to you, isn’t it?”

“Fun and games? What the hell are you-“

You interrupted him with an aggressive wave of your hand, “I haven’t heard from you in two weeks. How is that fun for me?”

He backed into the bed, sitting as soon as his knees hit the edge of the mattress. He combed his fingers through his hair, pushing it from his face as his shoulders fell in defeat, “Baby, I... I’m sorry-“

You cut the apology off, keeping your voice clipped and harsh, “No, you’re not.”

That struck a nerve, making him throw his hands up to let them hit the tops of his thighs with an exaggerated smack, “What do you want me to fucking say? We were on the last leg of the tour. I was busy. I thought by now you would have understood that.”

He scanned over the room, shaking his head as he refused to look at you. You saw how his jaw clenched, how the little crease in his brow formed through his anger.

He was deflecting, but you weren’t about to settle for being the bad guy, not when things had escalated this far. The last thing you were willing to do was back down.

“How hard is it for you to send a text? A quick phone call? Anything! But what do I get? Oh that’s right… absolutely nothing. Radio-fucking-silence from you because I never was a priority, Jake. And I’m still not. It really seems like I’m always there when it’s convenient for you.”

You didn’t even see him as you were too blinded by your own rage with the raw emotions spitting out through your clenched teeth.

“That’s not true,” he mumbled, and his eyes scanned the floor as he searched his mind for a plausible excuse to give you, but came up with nothing.

You broke away and looked up at the ceiling without focusing on anything in particular, blinking back the tears that were trying to spill from your burning eyes and down your cheeks.

“Would you just come here, please?” He croaked, begging with sorrow painted over his warm brown eyes. They were glassy and red, and the sight of them weighed heavy on your heart. He tried breaking the tension in the room while offering a hand out to you, and your legs carried you a few steps without your brain’s permission.

You stopped before you reached him, asking through the coat of tears clouding your vision, “Am I not good enough for you?”

His brows pinched together in genuine confusion, “Huh? What are you talking about?”

“Is there another girl that loves you more? That fucks you better than me?”

For a second you regretted your hostility, and that you should have been embarrassed at how easily you allowed your insecurities to seep out. The intrusive thoughts had been weaseling its way into the forefront of your mind from the day you met him. You’ve been adamant about living in denial, convincing yourself that you were strong enough to beat it.

“Baby...”

You sniffled back the tears as they made it difficult for you to speak, “How pretty is she?”

“There isn’t another woman,” He insisted with a new sincerity to his voice in an attempt to reassure you.

You knew it was a lie. It had to be. You may have been naive with Jake all this time, but you weren’t stupid about the reality of his lifestyle. That didn’t stop you from wanting to believe every fiber of your being that you were the only woman in his life - that everything he could possibly give was solely for you.

He reached out for your hand, taking it in his. It was warm and soft, but you tried to rip it away, like it seared your skin once it made contact. You knew if it stayed there, you would fold and crumble into a million pieces. Despite the poor effort to pull back, he had a firm, yet gentle grasp around your wrist.

“No, Jake,” you protested, voice meek when it crackled out from your hoarse throat. You tried to push him away, to deny the gentle touch of his fingers when they graced your hips.

His hands tightened around your waist to pull you in closer so that you were standing between his open legs as he sat on the edge of the bed.

His arms wrapped tightly around you, and his desperate pleas came out muffled into the yarn stitches of your sweater, “Please, baby. I need you.”

You wished you could hate him. God, life would be so much simpler if you could loathe him for how he made you feel, how he had this much power over you.

As much as you yearned to be wanted by him, you would continue to blame the alcohol running through his bloodstream for his actions tonight. It was a rigged battle within your heart that you were never going to win.

The embrace was everything you needed, but felt long overdue - a cherished moment too late. You gripped onto his shoulders to break his hold and push him away, “Stop.”

His arms locked around you, keeping himself pressed into you, “Let me hold you, please”

“…Jake,” you whimpered, relinquishing every ounce of fight within you as you swept the fallen hair away from his face, allowing the silken locks to slip between your open fingers. You kept him close, now being the one to comfort him through his distress.

You heard the faint, muffled sounds of what you thought might be him crying - the heat of his uneven breath fanning against your belly, the tip of his nose pressing into the soft flesh.

“I love you,” he whispered into your stomach, barely loud enough for you to hear over your own crying.

They should have been the words that would make everything better, to mend what had been wrong between you. But that’s what it was. A verbal band-aid for a problem that would never be fixed. It was just another plea to keep you close and make you stay with him tonight, knowing those were the three words you wanted most from him.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. The confessions of his feelings for you were supposed to be said with purpose, without regret or doubt. It was supposed to be said in a romantic moment that you would keep in your heart forever. Not this. Not a drunken slip up during your first fight that he may not even remember when morning comes.

You stayed rigid in his arms, and you swallowed back the sobs from interrupting your words, “Don’t do that. You don’t mean it.”

A kiss placed at your hip to seal it in. He spoke again, “I do. I love you, baby.”

This was the first time it had felt like Jake was at your mercy, begging for you. Before this, the dynamic was entirely different. Jake was calling the shots with everything always being on his terms. It made you feel helpless, leaving you hating the many restless nights spent silently pleading for his affection.

What’s one more night? How bad could it truly be?

While you battled with your internal thoughts, he felt across the thin material of your yoga pants with the calloused fingers, squeezing firmly as he rubbed his hands over the curves of your body.

Admitting the words back to him would make it all too real. In reality, you didn’t need to say it. He already knew deep down that your heart belonged to him.

The same fingers that explored their way across your thighs, were now pushing up your light-knit sweater ever so slightly up your torso. You were folding with each second ticking by.

Those full, pouted lips that had been busy whispering sweet, empty promises started placing heated kisses along the exposed skin above the waistline of your pants. A shudder rolled through your spine and you hummed at the feeling, letting the last bit of resistance dissolve with each brush of his lips.

You melted into his arms to succumb to his enveloping warmth, the softness of his lips exploring over your body, to have his comforting scent that you found yourself craving fill your head again.

With your fingers combing through his hair to tug him closer, he nipped his way past your navel to right below where your bra rested on your chest. A lustful groan rumbled from his throat as your nails dragged across his scalp.

A switch had been flipped. Even if what he was confessing to you was ultimately just lust, you were going to take it blindly without question. He was your drug of choice, a bad habit you couldn’t bear to break no matter how hard you tried.

He offered you crumbs of a relationship and sat waiting greedily for more. It amazed you how he was able to break you into a million pieces, put you back together, only to keep you waiting for it to happen all over again.

Jake broke away from you only to pull the sweater from your arms while he guided you onto his lap. He licked over your chest, biting the swells of your breasts that peeked over your lace bra, making you hiss at the sting of it. His hands left their place around your hips to roam over your back, finding the metal clasps that kept the lingerie fastened to you. For a second, you believed he needed to have you just as much as you needed him.

You held his face in your shaky hands, lifting it up so you could bring your lips to his. At first, the way he moved with you was gentle and forgiving. He was careful with tender peck, but it all changed the second you flicked your tongue in a desperate search for more. The kiss deepened as his hand found a place on your cheek with the pad of his thumb swiping the tears away.

You both broke away, panting away with your forehead pressing into his. Desire started to build between your legs, and you began to ache with need. There was so much you wanted to say, but he took the words from you when he started to shower your jawline with kisses, burying his face into your neck.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered across the shell of your ear.

You breathed his name as he squeezed you tighter to rock your hips against his lap. The motion made his breathing quicken, sending hot puffs of air along the tacky skin of your throat. Just as always, he marked you with bites of affection into the vulnerable flesh, leaving painful reminders for you to see in the mirror later.

Things started to become a blur as if you were pulled into a haze, high off the sensations of his touch. His busy fingers released the hooks of your bra, and the garment fell freely from your chest, and was thrown into the room to be lost.

You flushed hot with your skin buzzing from the kisses peppered through the teasing licks down your throat, down to the valley of your breasts. His dull nails dragged across your bare back, making you squirm in his arms.

You felt him harden beneath you with a deliberate roll of your hips, and you brought your hand down to his belt in a frantic need. He held your wrist, stopping you before you could pop the belt through the metal buckle.

Embarrassment flashed through you. Had you read this all wrong?

Jake smiled against your lips, and cooed softly in reassurance, “Let me worship you.”

If your heart hadn’t been racing erratically within the walls of your chest before, it was now. Anything intimate with Jake had always been sort of rushed, frenzied passion with him being in control. You sat still on his lap, enamored by this entirely different side to him.

He held you securely, flipped you around and eased you carefully onto your back so that your head was resting on one of the pillows at the head of the bed. He shifted off the mattress and began to undress as you watched quietly.

The way he looked down on you made you reminisce to late nights spent at the bar, sharing drinks and shutting the world out like you were the only two people to exist. That special glimmer in his eye, the same crooked smile - it was enough for you to entertain the idea of him being ‘the one’. You wished to be back there, to be stuck in the ignorance that it was still a possibility.

The clink from the buckle of his belt before he whipped the leather through the loops pulled you back into the present. The well-loved t-shirt he had on was thrown into a pile, and a pair of jeans soon followed.

He crawled back onto the bed, hovering over you to kiss you on the lips once again. You wanted to keep him there as long as you could with your hand wrapped around the back of his neck, but he was able to break free when his knuckles tracing down the center of your body.

He sat back on his legs and hooked his fingers around the waistband of your yoga pants to peel them slowly down the length of your legs, leaving your underwear in place.

He hummed to himself as he rubbed up the tops of your bare thighs, squeezing them in the palms of his strong hands as he made his way up. You gave yourself to him by letting your knees fall to the side, spreading your legs while he settled between them. He looked down at you and smiled, biting in his bottom lip as his fingertips danced teasingly along the lace edge of your panties. He took his time admiring you as if this is the first time he had ever laid eyes on you like this.

You whined impatiently with no real coherent thought to offer.

He lowered himself to his elbows above you, and placed a pattern kisses to your tummy between your hips. A raspy moan rattled from you when you felt the warmth of his hand dipping between your legs.

“Missing the touch of a man?” He taunted playfully through open-mouthed kisses that trailed lower and lower.

A breathy sigh and a low hum were the only answers your brain could muster.

The tip of his middle finger slid beneath the thin cloth just as his lips pressed against your covered clit, and he whispered with a familiar confidence, “Is this what you missed?”

A pitchy whine broke free from your parted lips. You couldn’t control the bucking your hips into his face in the search for more, but he was able to keep you in place with his forearm placed across your stomach.

His warm, heavy breath draping across you was enough to overwhelm you, causing you to clench around nothing in anticipation for what was to come. He licked a languid stripe with a flattened tongue where the kiss had been placed, wetting the cotton covering your core.

A ragged whine ripped through your chest and your hand dove into his hair again, but this time you tugged at it with purpose to bring him closer to you somehow. At first, he resisted your guided push to the back of his head, and responded with a breathy laugh - letting it flutter across you in this dance to keep you guessing. His fingertip that had been tracing delicately under your panties dipped into your wetness, coating himself as he teased your entrance.

Your groans of desperation for him to make you feel good, to make you forget everything that had happened, echoed throughout the room.

His raspy voice purred against you, relishing in the way you fell apart beneath him, “Tell me what you’ve been missing, dove.”

The barely-there passes of his tongue and movements of his fingers made you throw your head back into the pillow. You stared at the ceiling, pleading for his mercy, “Jake, please!”

He wasn’t giving in just yet as he was testing how far he could push the limit, “I know you can use those words of yours. Why don’t you go ahead and tell me what you want?”

I want you to love me.

He waited for your answer, grazing his teeth over where you needed him most. You nearly lost the ability to form an answer, but you swallowed thickly, fighting the dryness of your mouth before whimpering, “I need to feel you, please. I missed your mouth.”

He responded with a satisfied hum nestled between your legs, “Yeah?”

You nodded with your head digging into the pillow, and with that, the last piece of clothing is yanked down your legs.

You hadn’t had a single drop of alcohol, but you felt drunk off him alone. Your eyes have been closed on their own volition, without your control, forcing you to take everything in through your other senses.

His musky scent, a tempting mixture of a fine cologne, his favorite expensive whiskey clinging to his breath all captured in the lingering smoke of his last cigarette. You tuned into his sounds, the low hums and heavy pants filling the space of his dark bedroom. Your sense of touch heightened, as if each touch was a shock of electricity across the expanse of your skin while you tried to guess where the next one would be placed.

It didn’t take much for him to turn you into a writhing mess in the sea of blankets when his pointed tongue dipped into you without the barrier of your lingerie. He pulled away after a few seconds and brushed the pad of his thumb over your clit, whispering in a smoky voice that clung deliciously to the thick air, “Should I treat her just right? Give her all the attention, hmm?”

“So pretty and wet.” He kissed the tiny bud of nerves with a feather-light touch. “She really did miss me…already so hard and needy.”

You whined his name with a pathetic roll of your hips to chase him, eliciting a devilish smile to pull at the upturned corners of his mouth.

Jake wrapped his lips in a perfect seal around your clit, suckling it into the intoxicating warmth of his mouth. You uttered a broken, breathless string of curses with how close you already felt. He has learned every part of your body very well over the months you’ve known him, and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you were in the throes of your first orgasm. You didn’t even realize you had dug your nails into the tanned skin of his forearm with the other hand gripping a fistful of sheets by your head.

He groaned, but without complaint while keeping you secured to the bed with his fingertips pressed into the supple flesh of your thigh. He lifted from you, with a sinful lick of his lips and dreamy eyes cast down at you, sighing, “The way you taste…I could write a song about it.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before his head thrashed side-to-side, so the bridge of his nose caught the perfect spot just so, devouring you as if you were the last thing to grace his lips.

You fought against your body to prop yourself on your arm so you could watch him pleasure you. Pulling his hair back, you saw that his heavy lids were closed, brows tipped in concentration as his tongue swirled changing patterns over your swollen clit.

You tried to edge yourself by holding out longer, but with him coaxing your release with curled fingers inside you and being able to see his tongue work on you - feeling it move with each precise flick - hurled you into the wall of your climax without warning.

“I, I-I’m so close- oh fuck!”

His sleepy eyes suddenly opened, and the unwavering lust-blown pupils locked with yours until you couldn’t keep them open a second longer. Your head had fallen back as you used the roots of his hair between your clenched fist to ground yourself, riding each breaking wave of your high.

He carried you, tugging you along gracefully through your orgasm. Just until the very tipping point where the overstimulation was threatening to ravage your body. He took the time, yet never taking his lips from you as you came down slowly.

“Turn over for me,” Jake was admiring the fucked-out expression across your face.

You probably would have done anything he asked at this moment, so you obliged without question. He adjusted behind you as you began rolling onto your stomach, bringing your legs and arms up so you’re on your knees and elbows.

You wiggled your ass against him with a breathy, mischievous giggle that earned you a swift smack of his hand. You cried out, but the sound quickly transformed into a pitiful moan as he soothed the stinging skin with his palm.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he grunted, squeezing a firm handful of the swell of your ass.

For the first time tonight, you’re blessed with the tip of his cock teasing through your slick. With his hips pressed up against you, he shuddered at the feeling, stumbling slightly over the brief break in his control. If you didn’t know him better, you would have guessed that he wouldn’t last long tonight.

You arched your back, giving him the full show that would be sure to drive him insane. You tested the waters with a daring glance over your shoulder to see him. He’s looking down at himself glazed in the mess of your arousal that he’s created. You noted how the tip of tongue darted across his parted bottom lip with dark brows sewn tightly in his state of focus. Strands of tangled hair have already started to cling to the sweat forming on his forehead and cheeks.

A primal growl erupted from deep within his thoat, “Oh fuck!”

His free hand slinked down the curve of your back with the other held around the thick base of himself to dip the head in and out of your soaked cunt so slowly you might explode.

He sighed sweetly, “I missed this….just look at you.”

He couldn’t even resist anymore and gave a small thrust of his hips, pushing into you with ease. Even with your first orgasm, he was still stretching you out inch-by-inch. You released a ragged moan into the sheets the second he bottomed out inside you.

He paused, buried deep inside your pussy for what could have been minutes to feel you clench and adjust to his size.

With a deliberate pull until he nearly fell out, only to push all the to the hilt, he growled in your ear, “Am I giving you enough attention now?”

You squeaked out something incoherent with your face buried into the pillows and sheets. A husky chuckle fluttered over your skin as he started to thrust into you.

Your knees slipped down the silken fabric until you were laying flat on your stomach. If it was another night, he might have kept you still, but tonight he moved with you, holding your hip and balancing his weight with an extended arm by your head.

He rolled into you, hitting that perfect spot with each gliding pass. Pitched moans bounced around the room as your knuckles were beginning to turn white with how tightly you gripped onto the blankets.

As much as he enjoyed seeing you like this, he needed to feel every part of you. The hand that was starting to mark you with finger-shaped bruises left your hip momentarily to slip beneath your tummy, guiding you back onto your knees.

He didn’t stop there, and brought up upright so your back was flush against his bare chest. Your hand grazed across the forearm across your waist, fingers interlocking with his, with the other hand searching for the back of his neck.

“You were made for me, weren’t you, baby?” He praised you with a certain gravel that made you tighten around him as it rasped across your ear.

His nimble fingers found the small, silver crescent moon pendant that hung from your neck on a thin, delicate chain. He held it up just right like it was a treasured artifact, so the light reflected off its polished surface.

He placed it gently against your chest, tracing along the chain resting on your collarbones with his fingers. A prideful smirk was formed against your cheek, and he mumbled, “Like when I buy you pretty things, don’t you?”

A hot blush flushed your cheeks and chest, making you feel instantly dizzy. He was making it increasingly difficult for you to concentrate as he never stopped his movements. In the position, he usually fucked you hard enough that your screams rattled the walls of the bedroom. This time however, he took his time treasuring your body with his velvet-soft lips pressed into your neck and fingertips tracing along the details of your breasts that were bouncing with each thrust. You somehow managed a listeless nod with your head falling back onto him.

The pad of his middle finger found your overstimulated clit, and he gave a teasing roll as he crooned into the little spot tucked below your ear, “My beautiful girl deserves the prettiest things. Just say the word and you can have them all.”

For a flash of a second, you believed that he wasn’t just fucking you like the dynamics of your ‘situationship’ suggested. Before you let it sink in, you tried to push the thought away like your mind had been playing tricks on you, convincing you of something that wasn’t real.

“I love you.”

Your confession flitted from your mouth to his ears without you being able to catch it. It might have been the heat of the moment, but it had given away that your emotions had crawled their way back, taking over your state of unbridled lust.

Whereas he might have said it to keep you here in his bed tonight, you meant the words with every part of your soul.

He didn’t allow it to hang in the air, repeating it right back to you. Although he suddenly stopped, he squeezed his arm around you when he added, “I wanna see you.”

You whined at the empty feeling when pulled from you, but he flipped you onto your back in a swift movement before you could complain further. You reached out for him as he found the new position between your legs, pulling him close to you.

He didn’t kiss you yet, holding back enough to search your face. He scanned over your dazed features behind his half-lidded eyes. A thumb was brought to your cheek, wiping away the remnants of your makeup that stained your cheeks through your fit of tears.

Your legs locked around his waist, bringing him closer to you than before. The heat of his body was something you never wanted to let go. You both knew the second he slipped into you, he wasn’t going to last long.

It wasn’t rushed. The time was spent kissing your soft lips, tasting the sweet, saltiness on your flushed, pinkened skin, breathing in the floral scent lingering on your body from your bath earlier in the night.

He rocked his hips against you with a calculated pressure, nudging the head of his cock to your limit. His teeth raked across the peek of your shoulder as he brought his fingers to your clit for the final time.

“Let me have it. One more time, baby. I know you can,” he pleaded in desperation with his heavenly voice mumbled into the crook of your neck, giving away that he’d been holding out for you.

That’s all it took for him to push you over the edge of your climax that you have been teetering on. It amazed you how he was able to pull you under, to drown you in the overwhelming state of euphoria. Not only had he figured you out, you wanted to give him everything he asked for, to win each of the little praises passed through his lips.

There was no hiding that Jake was starting to lose control as he began to unravel under the climb of his own release. His hips faltered in a broken rhythm along with the ragged, strained breaths falling on your ears. In his own fog, his hand wrapped around your throat, but only for a moment before it danced up your jawline and across your cheek.

In the height of it, the both of you ended up a tangled mess of limbs. You felt out of your own body, as if time seemed irrelevant with the only thing grounding you was feeling his weight against you. After a final thrust, he filled you up with the warmth of his cum until the lazy half-strokes halted completely with him nestled inside you.

If it was up to you, you would keep him locked there forever. A part of you thought he might feel the same way, because it took him way longer than usual to gather enough strength to pull away.

He reluctantly withdrew from you, but stayed intertwined in your embrace with an arm slipped under your head and the side of his face pressed into your chest.

You let the time pass in comfortable silence. The only sounds you heard were the combined shallow pants coming down to the steady deep breaths of oncoming slumber. The purring of his soft snores were what let you know that he eventually drifted off. With him in your arms, you finally felt at peace, hopeful that this would be a fresh beginning with him.

But it wouldn’t last.

Something vibrated in the bed, and a bright light of a phone screen illuminated the dark room. Thinking it was yours, you grabbed it from the folds of the duvet draped across your bodies.

You squinted to the harsh brightness, but eventually focused on the notification banner across the screen. Your heart fell from where he had placed it, and sank into the pit when you realized it wasn’t your phone, but the damage had already been done.

A woman’s name was what you read. It didn’t matter who. The pink heart icon next to it told you everything you needed to know.

Heyyy Jakey! Did you still want to meet up?

I’m in town this weekend-

You tossed it, almost throwing it to the side so you didn’t have to stare at it for a second longer. Maybe it would go away. Maybe that was just your imagination.

It was difficult for you to breathe with how your stomach twisted into painful knots as the sinking feeling of dread pulled you into the mattress. It didn’t matter how much you loved him, or could love him. It didn’t matter if he made you feel like the only woman on the planet, or how he made love to you on nights like this. It didn’t matter what gifts he bought you or how many texts came across your phone. It didn’t matter what you would give to have the chance for a future with him because nothing would ever change. The very thing that made you fall for him was going to be what destroys you. He was still going to be Jake Kiszka at the end of each day.

The weight of his arm across you felt like a vice grip. You had to escape now, shifting and sliding out from him without him waking. You froze when he rolled onto his stomach, but only for a second until the sounds of his snoring started up again.

There was no fight that was going to put these pieces back together.

Tiptoeing around the room, you gathered your things and got dressed without a sound. You forgo trying to find any of your other possessions that had been left before, accepting that they would be lost in this house forever. You walked over to his desk and found a pen and the notebook he liked to scribble his ideas on. Turning to a blank page, you began to write with a shaky hand.

I hope you find the woman that is your Moon,

For I am only one of the many stars in your sky

After wiping the tears streaming down your cheek with the back of your hand, you tear the paper from the spine of the leather bound book and fold it once before walking over to the bed where the man you hopelessly love sleeps away.

This time you’re able to undo the necklace he had gifted you, and you hold it in the palm of your hand. The tiny moon shined against your skin, and you thought back to the night you opened the navy-blue velvet jewelry box.

Another memory that seems from a lifetime ago.

With the note placed on the pillow, you carefully laid the jewelry across it. You looked over to him, watching his back rise and fall with each dreamy breath. His hair had covered most of his face and you wanted nothing more than to tuck it back behind his ear and kiss him for the last time, but you decided against it.

The bedroom door clicked in its latch, closing this chapter of your life behind you.

Taglist:

@josiee-gvf @gabyvanfleet @ageofbrokenbells @maddie-van-fleet @gretasmokerising @prophetofthedune @gardensgatedaisy @lek-gvf @baguettejuliette @ashabeannn @daniellefersblog @seventieswhore @lo-pe-ak @sammiejane22 @writingcold @dannyandthekiszkas @pr41sethemoon @jakeyboiiiiiii @gretavanfleas @freckled-wonder @gvfrry @myownparadise96 @jordierama @mywaykiszka @jmksbuttsupremacy @weightofdreamz @maverick-rose @brokenbellz @jakekiszmyass @milkgemini @sarakay-gvf @idk-anymore50 @kels-gvf @strangersimp @richjaaasss @greta-van-chaos @shesawomaninadream @joshkiszkashikingboots @brinlygvf @alexxavicry @gretavanbitches @doodle417 @sammyslappers @garbagevanfleet

(I’m still in the process of redoing my taglist so be patient with me 😭)

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open--till--midnight · 2 years

Note

You mentiomed witcher oc and this idea came to my head so now im asking it for a request:)

Geralt x fem!witcher!Reader

Reader very new witcher and gets cold one night and decides to go to geralt's room and asks if they can share beds? maybe she was in the snow the whole day so she didnt get time to warm up, so the night cold makes her unable to sleep

If possible can this be nsfw? (Dom!geralt sub!reader?)

Body Heat

geralt x fem!witcher!reader

warnings | smut 18+, minors DNI

wc | 2k

a/n | i love this! i'm obsessed with the 'i'm cold and I need to be near you' trope

***

Most people didn’t believe in female witchers, you didn’t even think it was possible until you became one. The trials had been excruciating and truth was, nobody knew if you would even survive. Vesemir had worked out a new formula, one that your body could handle. For a time, you thought you were dying, but in the end, you had survived.

You were new to this, and if you were being honest with yourself, you had no clue what you were doing. For your first year on the path, Geralt would be right there beside you. It was a strange time for you. Everything had changed. Your body was brand new, and it was like you had to relearn everything. Your favorite change also happened to be the one that bothered you the most. Enhanced senses. You could now hear things so clearly, but that also meant that Geralt’s snoring was borderline unbearable. Your new sense of smell made all your favorite foods and flowers smell ten times as nice, but that also meant that foul smells were worse as well. There was a caveat to everything, but you figured you’d manage.

You and Geralt left Kaer Morhen early that spring. The snow had melted, yet the temperature had not yet risen. By this point, you had been walking all day to reach the next town by sunset. You had not been making good progress.

The light rain had softened the dirt beneath your feet, making walking almost impossible. Even your horses were having trouble.

“The sun is going to set soon. We should set up camp.”

“We’re not going to try and make it?”

“It’s not worth it. Let’s get some rest.” Geralt seemed to be in some sort of mood. You couldn’t really blame him. The bitter spring air and the light breeze were now freezing the rain, and it was painful against your cheeks and ungloved hands. Every year you said you’d buy a pair, and every year you had forgotten.

Geralt had trouble getting the fire to light and stay burning. And by the time you were eating what little food you had, the first snowflakes fell.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You dusted a chunk of snow off of your bread, sneering at it when it stuck to the ground instead of melting.

Geralt just sighed, pulling his hood further over his head. You copied his actions after you shoved the rest of your food into your mouth, then pulled your limbs in as tight as you could while laying down on the sleeping mat.

Sleep did not come easily that night. You were too busy brushing snow off of your face and mat. Though with your new hearing, you could tell that Geralt had fallen asleep. His heartbeat gave it away first, but then you caught a glimpse of his face through the unlit wet logs of the fire and he looked blissful. At least one of you was.

By the morning, the snow came halfway up to your knee. You groaned as you unburied yourself, standing up to help Geralt pack everything onto your horses. Not that you’d be able to ride them in these conditions. Hopefully, you would reach the village soon.

An hour in and you were soaked. The snow had picked up again, and it showed no signs of slowing. When you looked at Geralt, you couldn’t read his face, as usual. You wondered if he was as uncomfortable as you. Were witchers even supposed to get cold? You didn’t know, and to be honest, you were too embarrassed to ask.

Your feet were starting to go numb, and it was impairing your ability to walk. But you tried your best to not let Geralt see. Before you tucked your hands into your pockets, you could see how little your fingers could actually move. It was like your hand had frozen. You knew that was a foolish thought, and you pushed it out of your head, clenching your fists in your pockets instead.

When the sun reached its peak in the sky, you saw the village. The guards at the gate gave you no trouble when entering, which you knew was all too rare. After securing two rooms at the inn, you knew you would be looking for contracts. Geralt had told you that at least for now you would be going on contracts together. For learning and for safety. You didn’t exactly have the same amount of training that the witcher boys had.

After picking up a contract and consulting the local alderman, you retired to the inn. You shared a much needed warm meal with Geralt. Under the table, your feet burned. The heat of the nearby hearth was too hot for your frozen toes. It worried you, despite that, you said nothing. When the night ended and you reached your rooms, you exchanged goodnights and went your separate ways.

The room was poorly lit, with only a few candles littered about the room, not even a lantern in sight. You threw your bag at the foot of the bed and went to crouch in front of the fireplace.

Of course you had been trained with witchers signs, but you were still learning. You arranged your fingers into the sign and focused all your energy into it. But all you got was a spark. It took you three more tries to get a small flame. One which you barely managed to turn into a suitable fire. Once satisfied, you quickly changed into one of Geralt’s old shirts and tucked yourself under the covers.

The sounds of patrons singing and yelling were too loud in your ears and the pillow did little to drown them out. And your hands and feet still stung with cold. You felt like you could cry. But you didn’t. You pulled on a pair of trousers and made your way to Geralt’s room.

He was at the door the second after your first knock. His hair was sticking up in the back and his eyes were somewhat squinted. You felt bad about the intrusion, but your desperate need for warmth trumped your feelings of guilt.

“Geralt, I’m freezing. Is it ok if I sleep with you tonight?”

“Yeah, sure.” Well, he didn’t sound so sure. You wrote it off as due to his sleepy state.

When the bed dipped beside you, you sat up so your back was against the headboard. He did the same.

“You know, I don’t think that witchers are supposed to get that cold.”

“Yeah? Well, I guess the mutagens didn’t get the memo, Geralt.”

“I guess not. Come here.”

The witcher opened his arms for you, letting you squeeze yourself into his side, savoring his warmth. For a moment, you thought you smelled something strange in the air. You brushed it off, wrapping your legs around his in an attempt to get even closer to his warmth.

In an act of intimacy, unknown between you and Geralt, he kissed the top of your head, holding it close to his chest. When his grip loosened, you pulled back to look at him. And in his eyes, you found the warmth you so desperately needed. In a reckless act, you leaned forward.

Geralt quickly got the hint and closed the distance between the two of you. His lips were rough, but pleasantly so. They contrasted with yours just unlike the way your calloused hands brushed over his scar puckered skin.

Immediately after you pulled apart, you pinpointed the smell you had noticed. It was the smell of sex. Was your sense of smell that strong? Was it from a couple in another room? Was that what you were smelling?

You grinned at him, with an air of anxiety crossing your features. Geralt got the hint and lifted you over him and onto his lap. You immediately felt the bulge in his trousers poking into your heated core.

“Is that what I’m smelling?”

A knowing nod from the witcher, “I can smell you, too.”

“Gods that’s hot.”

Geralt once again captured your lips in a passionate kiss. And in your mind, you had no idea why this was happening. You hadn’t even given Geralt a second look before, but all of a sudden you were overcome with powerful feelings for him.

He had a powerful grip on your ass as he ground you down into him. He swallowed the meek whimper you let out at the action, continuing an arousing rhythm while licking into your mouth.

“Gods, I want you, Geralt.”

“Be patient, love. Just wait.”

Rough hands worked their way under your shirt, feeling every inch of you before giving your breasts a gentle squeeze. When he went to lift up your shirt, you immediately shut down. Your face heated, too.

“Something wrong?”

“No, it’s just- it’s been a while and I-”

“I understand. Let me know when I can.”

His hands continued roaming your body as his lips kissed your neck and your collarbones through your shirt. He was tender when he kissed over the peaks of your breasts, and at that you tapped his shoulder, giving him the go-ahead.

The expression of pure admiration never left his face when he lifted the shirt off of your body. His hands stilled on your hips as he kissed his way from your sternum to your lips. Your hands moved from his shoulders, frantically trying to get his shirt off of him. He obliged and then lay you down in front of him. He pulled your trousers off, leaving only a thin layer of fabric between him and you. Reaching out, you tugged on his waistband. When he stood, he relieved himself of both layers, revealing his impressive length. You quickly removed your final layer and lay out on the bed for him.

He laughed at your expression while positioning you on the bed below him. He left a sloppy trail of kisses down your stomach until he reached your cunt. His fingers were skillful when they breached you, and after a few seconds, he started to thrust them in and out of you. You reached down to get a firm grip in his hair; he took the hint and his tongue circled your clit a few times before sucking. When your hips bucked, Geralt threw an arm over your hips, holding you down while he made quick work of you.

You came embarrassingly fast. Using your hands to shield your face after letting out a final moan while coming down from your high.

“Uh uh, pretty girl. Let me see your face.”

You wondered if he could feel the heat radiating off your cheeks. No, no, you were overthinking again. The witcher kissed wherever he could, giving you the proper time to pull yourself back together.

He laughed when you pulled on his hair once more. “Impatient, aren’t we?”

“I just need you, please.”

You could feel the hard length of his cock pressing against your stomach, pre-cum creating a sticky trail. Geralt, once again, inserted his fingers into you.

“Your cock, Geralt, please.”

“Patience, love.”

He worked you for a while, thumbing your clit with an intense pressure. When he felt you’d had enough, he replaced his fingers swiftly with his cock. Almost immediately, Geralt created an excruciating pace. Hard and fast, hitting your sweet spot every single time. When your hand went down to play with your clit, he swatted your hand away, circling it himself while adding increasing and decreasing pressure. You were all fucked out and blissful.

The sweet sounds coming from the large man went straight to your core. In turn, you responded with sighs and moans while pressing your lips against his neck. When your noises came faster and louder, Geralt put more pressure into his circles around your clit. You swore you could see stars obstructing your view of the witcher’s face.

With one final thrust, your orgasm ripped through you. Your nails found a place on Geralt’s back, definitely leaving marks in their wake. His deep groan let you know that he didn’t mind it. His thrusts became sloppy, he began pounding frantically, chasing his high.

You were positive that if nobody in the inn had heard you yet, they had now. Geralt spilled into you with a loud groan and collapsed onto your chest, pressing sloppy kisses where he could.

“Geralt?”

“Yes?”

“I’m not cold anymore.”

The witcher laughed, pulling you into his chest, “That’s good to hear.”

#the witcher fanfic #the witcher fic #geralt fic #geralt x reader #geralt smut #geralt of rivia x reader #lilywrites📝

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rinbowaman · 10 months

Text

HHP - Chapter 17 (Heartmelting) 18+MDNI

**I recommend you okay the video and to continue reading til the end so that the musical piece can add depth towards the last bit. Afterwards you can watch the video entirely. The smaus featured in the video can also be found in the mgr/mre/HHP Masterlist. I dedicate the video to all readers who enjoy the series, thank you so much for giving me motivation to continue writing ♥️

This chapter got me like 🥹 😭 it’s a very heartwarming one.

Warnings: nothing too extreme, but hint of coerced physical acts against reader, borderline non-consensual acts, unprotected sex....thats it i believe. MDNI!

“Come on pretty baby….let’s fight.”

“I don’t want to….let me go Heeseung.”

Pulling you down atop of him, refraining your movements to shift, he keeps you steady as he begins to motion your hips to rock back and forth. His words spoke of fighting, yet his breathless voice against your lips, and half lidded eyes were telling you of something else.

“….fight me baby……come on…just like that…..yeah…”

Setting the momentum that he wanted you to continue forth, the knot in your core tightened as incorporated just a slight bit of bounce as he maintained a slow pace, building up the tension.

Both your bodies begin to tremble as you feel him massage your sides and ribcage. “Fight harder….” He says. Indicating for you to rock deeper, push down harder, and to roll your hips more harshly. All of which, you did.

“Yeah….harder.”

You speed up the pace as you grab on to his shoulders and begin to whimper out.

“Harder…..come on..” he bites his lip and furrows an angry and instigating expression as he takes part in rocking your hips faster.

Speeding up once more, you moan out his name repeatedly as you tilt your head back.

“Harder…”

At this point, he had you bouncing as he aided your movements in dry humping his lap, riding his thighs, and rubbing your clothed entry against his bulging muscle.

Leaning into you and taking advantage of your exposed neck, he latches his lips on, and in his usual manner, he sucks in the skin, leaving the harsh marks of his claim on you.

“…pl-please…no more marks…Heeseung…”

“shut…up…..take it.”

“No…please-“

“I said take it…..take all of it. I want everyone to see who you belong to.”

Issuing more marks as his lips discriminate your skin in various angles and regions, he coats your entire neckline and cleavage with his saliva.

His breathing became enraged as the built up was driving him to the point of becoming animalistic. Waiting for two weeks was hard, yet now that he finally got to touch you, it was even harder to control the violent side of his love for you. He wanted to pierce you open and split you into two, it was all thanks to you putting him through the days of torment of not being able to enjoy your flesh, while knowing that you belonged to him.

Feeding his hand through between your legs, he fishes out his member and pulls it out. You felt the tight grip of his arm around your waistline, the groans and growls, and the sharpness of his bite.

“Fucking come here…” he lowly growls against your skin.

Not wanting to have the night end in the manner to which you were accustomed to, rough sex was good, but you wanted to maintain the legitimacy of having a sensual “first night” as everything else, aside from the small bickering, had been going rather well.

“Please….wait…wait a second..”

“I SAID FUCKING COME HERE! STOP FUCKING TOYING WITH ME!!”

Feeling his hands grasp you harshly, he lifts you as he stands out of his seated posture and lunges both your bodies onto the bed.

“Wait! Heeseung! Please!”

He didn’t respond. His mouth was too busy assaulting you by coating you up and down.

Normally you never really saw Heeseung lose composure this bad, but the two weeks of having to hold it together, watching you, staring at you, sleeping next to you and barely touching you was excruciating. He snapped. He couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to plunge deep inside you. Your yelps and whimpers, your moans of protest was all fuel for him to do much more….

“Heeseung not like this! Not for tonight! Please wait!”

He continued to ravage you as he rips your panties, scooting whatever excess material off to the side as he readied himself to enter.

‘Finally……finally she’s mine again….’

He pins your wrist down, harshly kissing you. The amount of pressure his lips were placed on yours was painful, and his nose shoving into your cheek didn’t help either. There was no tenderness or softness in his touch, he was a lion in heat, and he wanted to eat you alive.

Whimpering and yelping out, the situation deeply upsets you…to the point where you began to issue out soft and quiet tears.

‘I wanted it to be….how it should have been for our first date night….not like any other time….’

Reaching down with the hand that wasn’t harshly restrained, you don’t know what compelled you to do it, since you were a bit sad that he got to the level that he was, and that wasn’t his fault….you shouldn’t have place him in such a predicament….especially knowing how strong his love and obsession with you is.

Maybe it was the feeling of guilt….regret…or maybe you just felt sorry. Either way, the moment you had reached and softly grabbed his member, stroking your two fingers along the tip so delicately, he froze his movements and lifted his face so that he could stare into your eyes.

His nostrils flaring, his eyes widened with hormonal rage, his lip bitten in between the harshness of his teeth, and his brow line furrowing downward, causing him to look beyond mad…he was feeling chaos and in a mood of destruction.

Looking at him with apologetic eyes, you softly spoke as you continued to apply delicate strokes along the length. “….I’m sorry……please…..I’m sorry….”

Whispering against his lips, and noticing the glazed tears that were slowly escaping from the ducts of your eyes, his expression didn’t change, yet he mentally forced himself to calm down….of all the times that he could ravage you in a manner such as now, tonight shouldn’t be one of them. This was your night.

So many times, beyond countless, he’s tossed you around, thrashed you, destroyed you, and took out all of his sexual tension and desires on you. He’s ravished you, savored you, and put you through pleasure and pain like never before. That was fine….but tonight….it shouldn’t be that way.

Calming his breathing, you could tell he was trying…but it was hard for him to do as his nostrils continued to flare up, his breathing remained heavy and forced out as he tried to slur them to a regular pace.

“Shhhh…..baby….please…..please breathe…breathe….be gentle with me…just for tonight…”

You walked him through as you helped him cope with his built up frustration, hoping to get him to a state of relaxed tranquility as you felt him staggering from his propped position, slowly submerging his density on top of you as he relaxes, slowly and gently landing his lips on yours. His eyes were half shut, yet remained gazing into your own as his eyelashes brushes up against yours.

“…..I…..I can’t control myself…..I need you…..I want you…..so let me have you?.....just say yes…because if you say no, I’m going to take you anyhow…..but it shouldn’t be that way…not tonight….so please…..y/n….just say yes….don’t make me be the monster that you already caused me to become….”

Calmly issuing out his honesty, you raise your head to close the minor gap in between your lips, kissing him ever so gently. Considering you had put him through a lot, which you hadn’t realized until now, you understood that the pain was beyond physical with him. Inside his body, was emotional turmoil. As you continued to kiss him, his hands roam all over your body…. slightly regaining the softness of touch that you were familiar with, yet the roughness of his aggressiveness was still there.

“…..can you start off…..gently?.....after that you can have me any way you like….” You whispered out, as you reached up and gently dragged the tip of your fingers along his cheek. He slightly leans into your hand, and catches your index inside his mouth, gently biting down on it.

Peering down at you with your finger in his oral grasp, he doesn’t nod or issue a verbal response, he merely swallows the excess saliva from escaping through his partially opened mouth as he continued to keep your finger in place.

“I’ll try…..I’m not making any promises…” he states back sternly as his eyes glared down at you. His expression was that of being fed up….and hungry….as if his widened eyes were all due to seeing a feast that he was about to engorge himself on.

You nod, willing to allow him a shot at it and…..he succeeded.

For the moment he released your finger, he leans in, his kiss was passionately delicate, with the hint of roughness in his display, it wasn’t like how he normally was when he wanted to present rage within his love for you.

“hows that?....pretty baby? Does that feel good?” he massages his groin against your pelvis, slightly pushing in as he commences deep thrust while remaining in an unpenetrated state.

“mm…mmhmm…” you moaned out, unable to speak as your lips began to quiver and your throat was at a loss for words, instead, it gasped for air as the pleasure of his touch and his soft kisses against your cheek and ear was all driving you mad with passion.

“What about here?....”

“…mmmm…y-yes…”

“And here?...”

“mmm….” You started to whimper out a trembling tone.

“What about here? Here? Or over here? Tell me baby…tell me it feels good.”

“I…..ah….He-Heeseung…”

“Say it.”

With a deep thrust, the bulge of his hard muscle pressing against your clothed entry became unbearable as you lashed out your words in desperate gasping notion.

“Good!...it-it feels good! It feels good! He-Heeseung…oh my God…..it feels good!”

“Yeah?.....keep saying it.” He commands as he begins to raise the skirt of your dress up, and the straps down over your shoulders, revealing your breasts and your shredded panties exposed.

He didn’t bother raising his frame off you to remove whatever was remaining of your underwear. Satisfied with how ruined they were from ripping them apart, and the fact that you didn’t have a bra on, he proceeds as he begins to gently coax your opening with the tip of his member. Reaching up, you grab him by his button up, which began to come undone from the leverage of your pulls and tugs as you began to move your body in waving motion, waiting for him to enter…you wanted him to…so badly.

“p-please….please…..”

“Please what?”

“Please give it to me….”

“Yeah?”

“ye-yes….”

With your forehead maintaining contact with his lips the entire time, he speaks against the skin.

“You need me?” He asks, the movement of his lips can be felt against the smooth surface of your forehead as he remained pressing against it.

“y-yes….yes!”

“You want me?”

“Yes!!”

“you want to keep me…forever?”

“yes…God! Heeseung yes!..pleeeeease!” you cry out. You couldn’t believe it but the tears that emerged from your eyes were that of strong yearning passion as you couldn’t take it anymore.

Tilting your face upwards to match your lips with his, you speak out under heavy and lustful lids.

“Please..please…please give it to me..please….please I want it…I want it.” You spoke against his lips and watched as he merely returned an aloof and heavy-lidded expression down at you, not even entertaining a response, yet there was a glint of sympathy and satisfaction in his eyes as he was going to grant you your desire, while also feeling the need to take care of you upon seeing you so desperate.

Kissing you harshly, your walls and opening hadn’t fully moistened up, yet he buried his cock deep inside you, even past the friction points where your skin nearly barricaded him from further entering, yet he only pushed harder and forced it in…..and you loved every second of the pain and pleasure that transpired from it.

The moment he was fully in, you moaned a sense of relief satisfaction and passion…the feeling of being stuffed and filled with his flesh was something you had missed…two weeks was too long to go without feeling him filling and pumping inside you.

Bellowing out as he remained steady, his member deep inside, he refrains from moving immediately. Instead, his arms remained wrapped around you, while your face shifts to the side to gasp out all the cries and moans of your painful pleasure. Opening his mouth wide, he breathes out slow and desirable exhales against your ear. Not a single word or tone emerged, just the hot air from his breath as it coats your ear and sends you into a state of blissful union….of feeling connected with him once more. It felt like….

‘Heaven….’

With minor movements, he digs his hips inward, retracts and dips down as he slides back in. Slowly….in……out……in……out.

His movements were gentle, passionate, and deep. He plunged, dug, dipped, and buried himself in without retracting any more than half an inch. You wave your hips around, moaning out and begging for him to fully thrust as the lack of movement was tightening the knot even more…you begged for release and for him to untie it.

“Please! Please…Heeseung please…please!”

“Please what?” he kisses you so tenderly….the most tender he has since the first night that you shared with him. Whispering out this time, he repeats…”please what?”

“More!...more….more please…I want more…mm-more…mmmore!” you sputter out in passion and desire as you spoke against his lips, issuing quick and desperate pecks in between. “Please..mmm…more..move more…please…”

Maintaining his heavy-lidded gaze, peering down at you with such superiority…and yet…there was the glint of wanting to nurture you…to take care of your body….to ease your soul….and take away the burn….because of how much he loved you.

With just his hips, he moves and fully thrusts in and out, never removing his arms fully wrapped around you. After the first thrust, you swore your mind had traveled through space and time as your body jolts from the shifting pelt of his thrust….then another…..and another…..before you knew it, he was thrusting at a moderately high speed, regaining the momentum that you were used to. His mouth fully open, hovering over your ear, he moans out….the sensation and feeling was immense for him as well, considering it’s all he was yearning for.

His deep voice penetrates your canal, reaching to your brain as not only were you feeling the effects of his actions, but you were hearing his enjoyment in what he was doing to you…how he was tearing down your walls inch by inch…you loved hearing how much he was ruining you.

With his lips finally pressing against your helix, you felt him gritting his teeth as his breathing grew hoarser each time he thrusted, meanwhile you were on edge as your moans turned into screams of heightened pleasure. He was close…and so were you.

Upon reaching the peak of your orgasm, you faltered as you yelp out in repeat.

“I-I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I’m cumming! H-Heeseung I’m cumming!”

Hearing the escalation of your voice only fueled him to keep going, right down to the very last bit until he felt the explosion of lust, passion, anguish, chaos, and love all balled up, releasing into your walls of silk. Finally, the pain was gone…he felt a sense of relief that could only be found within you.

It wasn’t just because he was melting inside someone, the fact that he was holding onto a woman’s body, or enjoying the smoothness of smooth skin rubbing against him…it was more than that.

It was you…..

……………………………..

Roughly four years ago….

“Hey man….so when’s the last time you saw Vicky?”

“Don’t know…..it’s been a minute. I went to volunteer at that camp, when I came back, she left with her family to go for some family reunion. “

“Dang…” Jake slightly frowns upon feeling a little pitiful on behalf of his dear friend.

“Do you not…like…..how are you able to withstand it?”

“what do you mean?”

“I mean….don’t you get the urge…don’t you miss her so much that you just…you know? Go crazy…”

“Nah…I care for her….but I don’t get that way with her or any of my other exes. Truth be told man, I’m a firm believer that no one like that exists for any person….even you.”

“Hey man, speak for yourself. If I miss my girl, I’ll travel hours just to go be with her.”

“Huh….well maybe I’m just built differently.”

Both boy’s chuckle, cracking jokes on the topic of girls, college, and their future.

“So when does she come back?”

“In two weeks…”

“Damn man that’s a long time to be going dry….are you at least getting some nudes or something to keep you going?”

“don’t need them. I’m good…honestly, that kind of stuff doesn’t get to me.”

“well maybe that’s because…quite possibly…maybe Vicky isn’t the one for you….”

“hmmm….dunno…”

“Well one of these days….maybe…whether its through her…or maybe someone else, you’ll feel the pleasure and joy of having them…..but also the pain of not being able to have them with you or by your side…”

“You’ve had that before?”

“Bro…you know me…I fall in love every day…I’ve felt it with every girl I’ve been with.” Jake laughs. “If I had your energy and talent....I wouldn’t be any different.”

“Hmm….it couldn’t be me man….I live life for myself. I think it’s good to love someone and care for them, but to go anymore beyond that is just….it’s unnecessary. Why put yourself through that?”

“….sometimes it’s beyond our control. It varies…some people love harder than others. But maybe your right, maybe it’s a stupid perspective.” Jake chuckles out.

“Yeah…..”

………………………….

‘How could I have been so wrong?....So blindly unaware and so young and naive at heart….was it because I never met anyone like you?....is it because I’ve never seen such beauty inside and out, until I saw you? Or maybe it’s because you continue to fascinate me…and I don’t even know why…but I just love it. I love seeing all sides and angles of you…I love feeling motivated each time I learn something about you….or getting a kick of joy when I see the beautiful expressions you make…ones that I’ve become so familiar with and yet, they still surprise me…right down to my very bones. How are you so committed? How are you so kind? Literally, so loving and helpful to others. You put yourself second, even at the expense of those who don’t deserve an inch of you….yet you give them your all. You grace people with the essence that can only be found in dreams, and yet here you are….making it real for everyone…is it any wonder why I am sick…I know I am….I’m insane…I’m crazy….I’m delusional…I’m not good…not at all…..because I am entirely in love with you to the point where not even death could pry me away from you…and as bad as it sounds…I’m not ashamed to admit it….I would be willing to hurt others just to have you all to myself…even if it meant I have to hurt you in the process…I’m selfish…I can’t help it…I’m so in love with you…yeah...I’m not good at all….. I’ve never witnessed anything like it….and yet I’m the one whose going through it. I’ll never be the same again….I can never go back to how things were….I can never be the person I was before I met you…before I got you…..if I have to shoot through stars, burn through the sun…..or pierce the moon….all just to get to you…I’ll do it….I’ll always find a way. You can never escape me…or my love….I need you more than you’ll ever know……y/n…..’

#heeseung x reader #heeseung scenarios #heeseung smut #heeseung hard hours #enha x reader #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung fanfic #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enha heeseung #yandere heeseung

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heyitssashag · 8 months

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I went to refold a blanket and noticed some of Steve’s 🐈‍⬛ fluff on it. As I picked it off, I broke into tears. Sigh. I miss him.

The kid and I went into town to run a few errands. We spontaneously decided to catch a movie. I couldn’t sit through The Little Mermaid (our first choice) because it was too long and the seats in our local theatre are awful. Instead, we watched The Miracle Club. Amazing actors. Mediocre movie.

After 30 minutes my pain was borderline excruciating. I had to keep readjusting and self massaging my shoulder/back area.

We took an Uber home and the driver had quite the stash of complimentary favours. Even tampons. Great service.

Yesterday, I got my MRI results. I have mild progression on my C4 vertebrae. Fuck. I also discovered that the oncologist didn’t order this MRI. It was the nurse practitioner I saw back in March. I was concerned and complaining to her about the hardware possibly failing so she wrote in the requisition to assess hardware stability. Since then, she, of course, didn’t know I got my surgery already so this was a big fluke. Normally, no one ever asks for hardware assessments on my scans. It’s also a fluke that I didn’t get this MRI for almost 5 months later (it’s usually every 3 months). Anyway, drum roll please: one of the new screws added to my T1 is way too long. It’s going into the nerves on both levels (of my T1 & T2). This is why I’m in agony and I feel like someone’s standing on my upper back. I would need another surgery to get this corrected. Double fuck.

So that’s that. I’m not sure what I’m going to do at this point. The thought of having another surgery any time soon makes me want to barf. I’ll probably wait a few months and contact the neurosurgeon. Besides, if I’m actually having cancer progression, I need to get it stabilized first. I can’t go off my medications for another month (due to surgery) knowing my cancer isn’t being properly treated.

Today I went for lab work with an old requisition from like 5 months ago because no one at the cancer agency has sent me new ones even though I’ve asked them ten times to send me a standing order. My neutrophils are good. Luckily, I have some leftover medication from when I didn’t finish a cycle last year because I was sick. So I’ll use that for now until I can get a new box. I’ll be leaving another message on the nurses line tomorrow (aka: the oncology abyss) because no one ever picks up the phone (but then they complain if you leave multiple messages). I was supposed to have had another oncologist appointment this month. They’ve hired so many newbies in reception - they’re dropping the ball when it comes to appointments. The communication is horrendous. I do have an appointment with the Cancer Agency’s psychiatrist tomorrow morning so I’ll be blasting all of my concerns on to him. It’s really hard to not get sad, mad, hurt, frustrated when you feel forgotten. I miss my old oncologist office where she had an actual reception desk that picked up the phone and would get me immediate answers to things. I’m so tired and fed up. Sigh.

To perk me up, I’m re-reading a self-help book called You are a Badass. Technically, I’m only listening to it on audiobook. It’s funny, light and interesting. I initially read it back when it came out almost 10 years ago and then read it again after my first cancer diagnoses. (So I guess I’m averaging every 5 years.) Most self help books are garbage but this one is a good read. So I’m going to drink my tea, listen to my book while staring out the window (like Steve used to do) and decompress from this day.

#metastatic breast cancer #why do I eat popcorn it doesn’t agree with me #thanks for reading #blogging on my blog

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busdriver-55 · 2 years

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Featuring Chronic Pain/Illness

Making this list/post was and is pretty personal for me tbh. In my last rec post I know I vaguely mentioned that I was going through something personal that was really intense and pretty scary, I still am tbh, which is why my posts are infrequent. For those who are following me for my recommendation posts - I'm sorry for being a disappointment, but I can explain. The title of this post "featuring chronic pain/illness" may seem morbid, but I needed to make a list for myself first and everyone else who was looking for relatable fics to read. Now we're about to get personal: I'm not well. I have been going through the diagnosis process for debilitating chronic pain. I'm not gonna say any more than that, but the fics on this list have really helped me feel less alone, and whilst I don't have every single illness/issue featured in every fic on the list, I do have some of them. But basically I just wanted to share these, especially as there isn't a lot of representation of chronic pain/illness in the media and books let alone fandom and these fics took a long time and a lot of effort to find. I really hope they can help anyone going through smthn similar to me. To everyone else, please enjoy the list - the fics on here are all really great. 🤕💖🏥🙏🏻

little sicks by violethoure666: Rey and Ben have a good thing going. They meet up once a week to have filthy, casual sex. Everything is totally fine, until Rey gets sick. As Rey's life falls apart, Ben's role in it begins to change; as her control over her situation slips away, her desire for the kind of rough, painful sex that she and Ben bonded over slips away with it. Without that, does she have anything left to offer? (undiagnosed chronic illness)

i will hide you when it gets too much by @dankobah: Rey and Ben are roommates. Somehow they have managed to live in the same apartment with very limited face to face interaction - seriously they communicate over text. One day when Ben wakes up in extreme pain due to his Fibro, he hears Rey puking her guts out in the bathroom, worried ge decides to go check on her and see if he can help. Neanwhile Rey who's has CFS since high school, is struggling with flareups of excruciating period pain. What follows is the two of them trying to take care of themselves and each other, as they realise that they don't have to fight this alone. (Fibromialgia, ME/CFS, Endometriosis)

Hanging by a Moment by @crossingwinter: There are many things that Ben could have tolerated about his parents’ divorce. That his mother had finally had it with his father’s borderline illegal—or rather, as he liked to put it, borderline legal—company, the shady activities it covered that would doubtlessly end her political career if a reporter got hold of them; that his father had finally had it with the way his mother nags, because sure, he’d thought it was hot twenty years ago, but he is in fact an adult who can actually keep his shit together—all that he would have gotten. He’d have been wrecked, but he’d have gotten it. His dad leaving his mom for a nineteen-year-old gold-digger though, and his mother not even putting up a fight—that had caught him by surprise. (MS - Multiple Sclerosis)

Jumping Into The Deep End by AnneAnna: She's his Sugar Baby at Night, his niece and nephews' Nanny by Day, his wife in name to get better Health Insurance. But Rey and Ben are positive this won't get messy. (Diabetes)

Meet Me at the Pier by @impossiblefangirl0632: A commuter meet cute where Ben and Rey are both narcoleptics. Ben was diagnosed years ago but Rey is struggling to accept she even has a problem. She’s a student, she’s just tired, everything’s fine. Until it’s not. (Narcolepsy)

Pressure Point by vuas: After taking a hit in the parking lot after a kickboxing competition, Rey suffers a severe neck injury. She is assigned Dr Ren, a chiropractor to help with her pain. (chronic neck pain) -> this one's also pretty smutty but the rep is there for me

honey sweet (lips zipped) by lachesisgrimm (olga_theodora): Rey had always been good at keeping secrets. Considering her childhood, a husband was a fairly small secret to keep. (Diabetes)

#reylo #fanfic recs #featuring illness #chronic illness #chronic pain #hospital #soft Ben Solo #soft Rey #modern au

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berristreasuredlibrary · 1 year

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Tanjiro's Secret

TanjiroxPregnant!Fem!Reader

AN: Multiple characters will definitely be out of their character in this chapter and I am NOT a doctor/nurse so there are probably incorrect medical (?) terms, but I did a little research. If anything stated below makes you uncomfortable please do not read or read with caution as this chapter will contain sensitive topics!!

TW: description of female body, reader starts going through labor, kidnaping, language, blood, and abuse

Warning: This chapter will contain dark themes, please read with caution!!

It's late at night, you should be in bed. Curled up and under a warm blanket, but you can't sleep. You have so many aches you find it difficult to get into a comfortable position for the night. So you find yourself wandering around the mansion, enjoying the peace and quiet.

The moon shines brightly above you as you walk along the edge of the small gardens that follow the walls of the estate. With one hand on your big belly you admire the scenery, it isn't much but it's enough to relax you. The tension washing away from your sore muscles, your poor feet are a different story however.

Your ankles are swollen and your feet throb with each step you take, so you decide it's time to head back inside to the comfort of your room. Another lonely night. Another night you spend inside your quiet room, without the comfort of another.

Another night without him.

You can see him perfectly, his red hair he always asked you to trim, his rough calloused hands that would hold yours during Shinobu's visits, ruby red eyes that looked at you with nothing but love.

Love that you could never reciprocate.

It was her fault. If only she would've stayed out of it, not used the damn coin. If she would've kept her distance, not gone up to him when she did, you would be in her place. You would be Y/N Kamado, not her.

It angers you, knowing that you had a chance. Knowing that you had a shot at a happy life, but it was taken away from you. Ripped away from your hands before you could truly grasp it. Now you are stuck, alone with the possibilities. The dreams you once had, shattered and broken.

Sighing you make your way down the hall and towards your room, but something is wrong. You feel the strong presence of someone but the sharp pain in your stomach makes all your thoughts fly out the window, feeling liquid running down your legs, drenching your clothes.

It's all too much, too sudden, for you. You weren't due for another month or so according to the doctor, not now. Not when he's not there for you, not when you're all alone.

You can’t breathe, as though there’s a heavy weight on your chest, and you’re desperate for air. Desperate to find someone, anyone to help you.

Tanjiro.

You need Tanjiro.

Crying out when you manage to inhale sharply, you stumble blindly in the dark hallway, trying to find a door. Any door will do, anyone willing to help will do, the pain is too much.

Footsteps from behind a voice calling out to you, soft and calm, it’s familiar but you can’t bring yourself to turn. There are hands grabbing yours, enveloping you like a warm blanket. It’s comforting, but not what you truly want.

It’s not him.

You’re not sure who it is exactly until they speak again, "Y/N, please just breathe. You’ll be just fine, I’ll go get Miss Shinobu. You stay right here, I won’t be long.”

Kanao.

The wife of the love of your life, the reason you cannot have him. The person holding you back, practically dangling your happiness in front of you. Taunting you, living the life you desire, with the man you want.

And as she rushes off behind you the heartbreak you feel almost surpases the pain in your body.

Almost.

The contracting of your uterus is borderline torturous, the uncomfortable tensing of the muscle makes it difficult for you to stand up straight, but you somehow manage.

As time passes your contractions get more and more intense, what was once uncomfortable contractions now are excruciating ones. You can't bear to stand anymore, your wobbly legs practically giving out under you. If it wasn't for your steady hand on the wall you're positive you and the floor would've met minutes ago.

A door slides open from down the hall and a hand clamps over your mouth. Your gut twists, your mind screaming at you to move but you can’t, arms encircle you from behind and trap yours against your sides. A man, you can feel his broad chest up against your back and the rough hands holding you in place only confirm your worst nightmare.

It hurts.

It hurts badly.

You’re being dragged down the hall, the hand never leaves your mouth. You can’t breathe, you can’t see, you can’t move. Nothing, you can’t do anything.

You’re dragged and dragged, out the house, into the forest, dragged over roots, branches, leaves. There are gashes, deep ones across your calves. Blood, lots of it, running down your legs, and you don’t know where the blood starts or ends.

You hurt.

Your stomach, it’s so damn agonizing and your captor only makes it unbearable. Never ending, only worsening as you’re dragged some more. Through thickets and bushes, under a fallen tree, until finally he stops.

Something heavy is thrown open and you’re lifted from the ground, the hand finally moving from your mouth.

Scream.

You scream, crying out for someone to help you, finally thrashing and hitting your captor, whoever he is.

He doesn't budge.

Up a small set of stairs, into a cold dark room, he remains unfazed. You’re set down on something relatively soft and chains are cuffed to your wrists and ankles.

Once again, you can’t move. Bound to whatever he set you on, surrounded by darkness until a lantern is brought in. Illuminating your confinement, you see it's nothing but what seemed to be a fixed up old shack. There's hardly anything inside; a makeshift bed, a small wooden stool, and buckets with rags inside. Lots of them.

You turn to face your captor, ready to fight your way out of there for the sake of your baby, only to find him gone and have your blood run cold.

"I see you made it here without any trouble. Very good."

It's her.

Standing in the corner, arms crossed over her chest, lilac colored irises staring into yours. Unfazed, unbothered, almost bored she crosses the small room and stands in front of the bed, right in front of you.

The light from the lantern brightens her eyes and reflects off the shiny hairpin tucked just above her ear, keeping the small strands of dark black hair away from her face.

The same hairpin that replaced the pink and green butterfly one she wore in her youth.

Get out.

As if reading your thoughts she raises her sword, holding it up right against your stomach, the tip of it poking at your swollen belly, "Try and leave, I dare you. You wouldn't make it two steps off that bed, let alone out the door."

You need to get out.

"Besides there's nowhere for you to go. Especially with that thing on the way. You should be ready in a few hours, these things do take time after all."

Venom.

Her voice drips with it yet her faces remains stoic, but she lowers her sword, choosing to hold it loosely in her hand instead. It's terrifying but you manage to find your voice, "What the hell are you doing? The baby is coming and you have me chained to a damn bed in the middle of the woods? Are you crazy-"

SLAP

The sound echoes in the empty room and your cheek stings, tears brim your eyes as you slowly turn your head back to face her, both shocked and intimidated.

"You don't speak unless I tell you to."

All you can do is stare, quivering on the small bed, willing yourself to stay quiet and for your tears not to fall as she slides her sword into its scabbard.

CRACK

This time you scream.

Blood slowly trickles down your hand from your knuckles, slowly running down your wrist and forearm before dripping down onto the ground from your elbow.

CRACK

Another scream.

More blood dripping onto the floor.

"You've ruined everything." She scowls at you and uses the end of her scabbard to raise your chin, forcing you to meet her eyes. Cold, void of any emotion, or what appears to be at first glance.

Her eyes hold emotion and so much of it, running down in waves off of her. Suffocating you to no end, frustration, hate, jealousy.

Anger.

"If only you would've done what we had brought you to do. If you wouldn't have screwed everything up, ruined the very plans we made, you wouldn't be here. Stuck in an old shack, chained to a bed, about to give birth to a thing I now regret letting exist."

Gripping your jaw she tugs you closer so your faces are mere inches apart, "But you didn't, you went against me. Broke the only rule we had made, the one you agreed to never break. You greedy bitch, couldn't you have been satisfied with just our deal?"

Don't answer.

Her jaw clenches and she yanks you closer, your arms bent back at an uncomfortable, painful angle, "This is all your fault." She stops, seemingly to regain her composure, and pushes you back onto the bed, "No matter, you will suffer the consequences of your actions. You and that thing inside you."

You strain at your chains, desperate to be free, "You will not lay a hand on my child." She snaps her head in your direction and raises her hand, you brace yourself waiting for the stinging pain but it never comes.

"Oh, you're right. I suppose I won't harm that horrid thing, I will hold up my end of the deal though. Take it and raise it as my own. You, however, won't have to worry about your end of our little bargain."

A tight grip on your hair had you crying out, raising your own hands to try and remove hers, "You will give birth and I will take the damn brat, I'll run on home, maybe come up with some sob story for you and live out the rest of my life."

Smirking she tugs your head back, looking you in your tear-filled eyes, "You will stay here, with all the wild animals. I'm sure they'll be happy to have you, something to snack on during the day."

Seeing your fearful expression she chuckles darkly, "This damn baby is a product of a love that should never have existed in the first place. You deceived me, but I will be the one to set things right. This love ends with the birth of the child. Once it's born, my problems will be resolved and I will leave you here to rot, the way you deserve to."

"And I don't need a damn coin to figure that out."

#tanjiro x reader #tanjiro angst #tanjiro kamado #tanjiro kimetsu no yaiba #tanjiro x y/n #tanjiro x you #tanjiro x female reader #kimetsu no yaiba angst #kny x you #tanjiro kny #kny x reader #kny angst

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deeeelightfuldee · 2 years

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1. Do you ever go back and look through all the surveys you’ve taken? Are there any answers that make you cringe, or that you’d answer differently next time around? im sure that there are but i haven’t gone back and read too many. im sure that the ones from like october ish are not fun. nor the ones from last summer lol

2. What is something most everyday people don’t know or wouldn’t be able to guess about you? i was homeschooled.

3. If you could have someone make you breakfast every morning, what kinds of things would you want them to make? oh mannn. pancakes. oatmeal. GF homemade bagels omfg.

4. Where is the scariest place you’ve ever been? What made it so terrifying? uhhhh nearly out of gas in louisville. it was unbelievably sketchy. that was such a horrifying experience.

5. Did you celebrate Easter? Are there any holidays you are more inclined to celebrate than others? If so, which? I do. oh man my favorites are Christmas and 4th of july.

6. If you’re on the internet, what are you most likely to be doing? surveys, schoolwork (miss it so) emails, window shopping, etc.

7. When was the last time you experienced a pleasant surprise? ummmmmm. its been a smol bit.

8. What were your favorite parts of the previous week? Do you have any plans for this week? gym time, friend time. i do have plans this week.

9. What was the last thing you deleted? emails.

10. What colors make up the majority of your wardrobe? Is there any color you like, but don’t wear often? lots of grays in my closet. i want to wear more pinks. i want to expand into colorful clothing. i tend to wear drab colors and im sure its to blend in.

11. When was the last time you were in any amount of pain? my heel and my shoulder are EXCRUCIATING. its borderline unbearable.

12. Do you have any unusual habits or preferences when it comes to food? ummm i prefer my pizza cold.

13. Tell a fact about the last person you spoke to? hes awfully consumed with work lately lol

14. What is something you tend to carry with you everywhere? chapstick

15. What was the last thing you completed? all the requests K had for acnh

16. Do you take pictures often? What are the main subjects of your photography? Yes! nature, myself, other people, benny.

17. Post a picture of one of your favorite memories and tell the story behind it? lol pass.

18. If you’re reading a book, how close are you to finishing it? Do you have any idea what you’ll read next? I am a third of the way through. probably tomorrow.

19. Is there anything you’ve been more optimistic about lately? school. my strength.

20. What does the sky look like right now? its dark :)

21. What was the last thing you snacked on? uhhhhh boy i havent snacked in a while.

22. Do you prefer fruits or vegetables? both but probably veggies.

23. When was the last time you had to ask for help? What about the last time someone asked you? i am asked for help every day. I asked for help carrying something inside when my hands were full earlier today 24. Where was the last place you went? How long will it be until you leave the house again? picking up dinner.. ill leave the house tomorrow afternoon/evening for the gym

25. What’s the longest you’ve ever stayed inside? How about outside? loooooool. during co*id i was in mY room for 33 days straight.

26. Who was the last person to hug you? Do you hug this person often? mom probably. sure! 27. What are you most likely to argue or debate about? mental health.

28. What was the last show you watched? Have you seen it before, or is it something you’re watching for the first time? i have fraiser on right now. i tend to gravitate for things ive seen before. at least before bed.

29. How would you describe your taste in clothing? What would a dream outfit look like to you? my taste is different than what i actually get. i think my fashion would be quite fun if finances and my hips would allow it lol.

30. How has your day been so far? today was good.

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elizabro · 3 years

Text

I need to start being the type of person who reads

#YES I'm gonna be one of those ppl who's like 'I read nonstop as a child and now I don't anymore....what happened :('#I used to hide books in my desk and just not pay attention to lessons at all.#got in trouble for it a lot #carried books everywhere #now reading is like. borderline excruciating #if I'm not completely invested in the text #I'm gonna try to make a list of books to buy so I can become well read and uhh smart maybe

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katnissmellarkkk · 2 years

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ooh okay what about a drabble where they’re on the victory tour “sneaking away to be alone” at a party and somehow the idea of peeta leaving a hickey on katniss’ neck comes up (so that the cameras catch it when they go back out) but it ends up feeling a lot more intimate for both of them?🤪

So. I love this prompt, I’m so so so so so sorry it took me so long to write it, my love 🥺. I had the rona and then I was on vacay and then I was just exhausted overall. But I’m definitely trying to get more writing done now! Even though my college just started back up.

Anyways, I tried my best to do this prompt justice. I also tried to stick it as much into canon as I could but I may have slightly veered off 😐. I tried though! Also I’ll probably go back and proofread more later so if you see any mistakes, forgive me 😘🥰.

And now lemme just set the scene. I took the image of the dress here from this one of @little-lynx’s drawings which was inspired by passage in Mockingjay.

But since Peeta’s greatest confusion centers around me—and not everything can be explained simply—our exchanges are painful and loaded, even though we touch on only the most superficial of details. The color of my dress in 7. My preference for cheese buns. The name of our math teacher when we were little. Reconstructing his memory of me is excruciating. Perhaps it isn’t even possible after what Snow did to him. But it does feel right to help him try.

And here is the passage from Catching Fire where this little scene takes place in,

During ceremonies, we are solemn and respectful but always linked together, by our hands, our arms. At dinners, we are borderline delirious in our love for each other. We kiss, we dance, we get caught trying to sneak away to be alone. On the train, we are quietly miserable as we try to assess what effect we might be having.

I hope you enjoy this, anon! And I hope anyone else who reads this also likes it!

Peeta looks unsure as I lead him onto the balcony, pulling his sturdy frame by hand. “This is a good idea,” I insist, somewhat manically.

“I don’t think this is necessary,” he says, his blue eyes looking troubled and his tone despondent. He doesn’t like my newest idea on how we can convince all of Panem and most importantly, President Snow himself, that we’re so in love that we can’t see straight. He finds it superfluous in light of all the public kisses in front of the camera in every district, the high-pitched sugary laughs while on dance floors, the excessive touches while seated at the dinner tables, the carefully-timed hair strokes and longing glances when we know all eyes are on us. Peeta claims my newest idea is redundant at best.

But he followed me out here onto the balcony, didn’t he?

The cool night air chills me and my bare skin, exposed by the top of my dress, tight and silky and blood red. “Are you cold?” Peeta murmurs quietly, concern momentarily replacing his disdain.

“I’m fine,” I insist, knowing we needed to get this show on the going — quite literally — before anyone notices our absence and comes to find us, before the plan has been executed. “We need to get this done though, before anyone can come stop-“

“Katniss, I’m giving you a hickey, not performing brain surgery,” he retorts, rolling his eyes.

“Don’t be so sour,” I snap, getting rapidly more and more irritated by his demeanor. I’m about to say more but the defeated glint in his usually bright gaze halts me.

He slowly reaches his hands to place upon my waist, clearly ready to get this done. “Come here,” he urges softly and I find my body listening instinctively before I consciously make the choice myself.

His strong arms hoist me up unexpectedly, lifting me against his chest. I’m just about to ask what he’s doing, as I’ve never gotten a hickey before and I didn’t realize this position was part of the protocol, but his mouth silences mine. And not in the typical way.

Usually when he silences me, my anxious rants or hysteria that we aren’t convincing enough or that we’re all doomed, it’s by kissing me in front of everyone, by pressing his lips to mine and showing how everyone sighs on cue at the sight.

But not this time. This time his lips find my neck, they land directly on my pulse point, and any leftover words I wanted to say die in my throat.

He’s experienced at this, I realize. Or at least he’s got some point of reference or direction, unlike me. Peeta knows what he’s doing, as his mouth travels all across my throat, until he finds a spot he particularly likes and stops to put all his focus there.

I don’t know why the notion that Peeta has done this before fills my stomach with dread. It shouldn’t bother me. What we’re doing right now is for show, nothing else. I don’t know why I suddenly feel very agitated at the idea that this is an old hat for him. I don’t know why the unwanted image of Peeta and just about any town girl from Twelve doing exactly this fills me with the feeling of inadequacy and rage.

His mouth opens against my throat then though and I let out an embarrassing noise that I can only hope he didn’t hear. His arms tighten around my figure, one curved below me and the other around my waist, as if he’s at risk to drop me from his hold.

And it occurs to me for the first time in my life why people go the slag heap. Why they want to. It occurs to me why the classmates and mine workers I’ve come across there — that I’ve interrupted there, I should say — all look so disgruntled with the disruption.

I feel a warmth radiate itself into a shiver, running down my back slowly, as Peeta’s mouth becomes more determined, as it gets more forceful, sucking harder and harder on my skin. It should be a chore to do this and maybe to him it is, but I can’t help the unexpected burst of emotion bubbling within me, the buzzing that is becoming stronger and stronger the more persistent Peeta’s kiss becomes.

I gulp suddenly as I finally identify the feeling growing within me. Excitement. For some stupid reason, this act is making me inciting anticipation within me.

It hits on me then just how intimate this act truly is. Just how deep and personal and penetrating this feels.

Peeta keeps going though and I don’t have the vocabulary right now to tell him to stop. I don’t have the desire, I realize just as annoyed as before. I don’t have the desire to tell him to quit it and my legs feels like they’ve turned to jelly and can’t hold me up now even if I tried and I can only wrap my arms around Peeta’s neck and let the feeling that what we’re doing is wrong war within me with the undeniable sensation that this is so right.

I get so lost in my own head, in the feeling of Peeta on my neck, of what this all means and why it all feels like more than it was supposed to be, that I’m actually genuinely caught off-guard when we’re interrupted.

“Hello, you two,” a man clearly from the Capitol greets. We’re in District Seven so he must have come on the train here with us but I can’t for the life of me remember him right now.

Peeta, playing his part perfectly as always, responds with shock. Immediately he pulls his lips off my throat and I absently draw my hand up to touch the spot, inexplicably missing the contact.

He sets me roughly on my feet but I stumble without him to hold me up and he automatically moves to righten me. “Are you okay?” He whispers under his breath and I nod rapidly, more than slightly aware of the third presence in our vicinity.

Before any more words are exchanged though, Effie chimes in loudly, her voice already stressed before she even comes into view. “Children, there you are! We’ve been looking everywhere for you.” I can tell right away from her tone that we’re in for a long lecture later on manners and appropriate behavior and conduct.

“Sorry, Effie,” Peeta says, slipping into the part of a sheepish boy head over heels in love. “We just got caught up-“

“You cannot go getting caught up-“ She immediately trills. Before she can finish though — thankfully — a slightly tipsy Haymitch cuts her off.

“Oh, give it a rest. You found them. Now let’s all go back to the party.” He gulps the last remains of the glass clutches tightly in his fist, murmuring under his breath, “Before the refreshments run out.”

Effie prattles on for a minute longer and the man from the Capitol smiles uncomfortably before bowing out of the group and it’s then that I risk eye contact with Peeta for the first time since his mouth was on my neck.

His cheeks are flushed slightly and his eyes look uncomfortable but there’s no way to tell if he felt the same way I did. He’s such a good actor, there’s no way to tell how felt about our latest act of love at all.

Haymitch gestures for us to follow behind them, rolling his eyes as Effie continues to carry on about proper etiquette. I make my feet move forward towards the indoors again, despite the fact that the last thing I want to do is return to the party in our honor. But I don’t even make it inside before Effie gasps quite dramatically.

“What’s on your neck?” She demands and I see Haymitch catch wind of it only a moment after her. He shoots Peeta a sardonic glance but looks slightly pleased underneath it all. “No,” Effie exclaims, shaking her head in disbelief. “No, you did not leave a mark on her neck,” she blares.

And I’m selfishly glad that she’s yelling at Peeta now and not me. God knows how I’d hold up under scrutiny at the moment.

“Young man, you should know better,” she exclaims and Haymitch sighs and pulls me forward, propelling me and him back towards the party. “Let Peeta sort that out with her,” he murmurs once we’re out of earshot. “He’s better at dealing with her antics anyway.”

“Yeah,” I mumble, not registering his words in the least.

Not until he reminds me of the overall goal. “Besides, we should get back to the crowds. See if we can’t get this beauty on camera,” he adds, pushing my hair away from my neck, exposing the large, pink-ish purple mark for all to see. A moment later though, he clears his throat and gruffly says, “pull up your dress, girl. No one needs to see that.”

I absently tug it upwards from where it fell — only a mere few inches, I realize, rolling my eyes in his direction — and take in the large collection of people getting closer and closer with every given second.

“Good job tonight, sweetheart,” Haymitch murmurs just before heading off in direction of the drinks once again. “Keep the act up and we might actually pull this thing off.”

He’s gone, disappeared into the sea of unfamiliar faces, before I can even grasp the meaning of his words.

“Right,” I say despondently, to no one in particular. “The act.”

#everlark #thg #hunger games #katniss everdeen #Peeta mellark #catching fire #oneshot #Drabble #my writing #prompt #I FOUGHT WARS TO GET THIS POST IN THE EVERLARK TAG #my drabbles #100

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star-anise · 3 years

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I read your post about trauma and I'm trying to make sense of my parents treatment of me as well as my own diagnoses. Is anxiety itself trauma? Or a result of trauma? Its the stress response itself not calming down. I think I was and am emotionally neglected. My parents are not sympathetic. I'm adhd anxiety depression my whole life. That post about learning new social situation techniques really resonated. What are the treatments for neglect? Besides plain old cbt and mindfulness and anti anxiety meds

Trigger warning: Child abuse, child neglect, emotional neglect

Anxiety can happen because of a wide variety of reasons, from medical to situational to genetic. It could happen out of the blue to a totally healthy adult. Or it might be a symptom of trauma and a bad childhood. PTSD used to be classified as a kind of anxiety disorder, but we now understand it's a lot more complicated.

I'm very sorry your family aren't sympathetic and don't get what's up with you. I want to make it very clear that it is not your fault that they aren't sympathetic.

It's not your fault for not explaining things clearly enough. It's not your fault for not being a more lovable child. It's not your fault for being emotional or oversensitive. It's not your fault for not communicating your needs in a way they can hear. Their treatment of you is not your fault.

That's important not just because it feels good to be absolved of blame. It's not a meaningless platitude. It's a nicer coating on what can sometimes be a very bleak truth. That truth is:

There is nothing you can do to make your family be sympathetic to you.

I am so, so, so sorry. You can spend your entire life turning backflips, you can learn interpretive dance, you can become the world's leading expert in your field, you can get hit by a car and find out you have cancer, you can be as sympathetic and understanding about their reasons for neglecting you as they could possibly want, you could do everything in your power to be a good child, and none of that will ever give you the power to make your parents be sympathetic to you and what you've been through.

Sometimes parents do learn and grow and change and work to repair the damage done while their kids were children. But that's because of their own issues and experiences and reasons, not because of anything their children have done. Many parents keep being oblivious and neglectful even when their children have become everything a parent could ever hope for.

Actually, an amazing number of my adult neurodivergent friends have had the absolutely excruciating experience of hearing their parents say, in essence, "Hey adult child! The other day someone I respect way more than you told me about [your condition], and I was astonished! They told me that thing you've been telling me for years, and it blew my mind. I now realize that this is a real part of your life! Wow, it sure would have made a difference if I'd done that thing you've been begging me to do for years now, huh? Hey, have you heard about this handy behavioural technique you've been doing every goddamn day of your adult life? It sounds like it would really help!"

Like, even if your parents ever Get It about your specific disorders and conditions, they're extremely likely to salvage their self-esteem by refusing to ever seriously acknowledge how much it's hurt that they've failed you.

And what that means is: You have to plan the rest of your life as if they will never be sympathetic.

That might mean never giving them any say over your medical care or personal life choices. It might mean not living with them, not turning to them when you need a supportive community, or not letting them play a large role in the lives of any children you yourself may have. It might mean having to build your own support network that doesn't include your family at all, because you can't count on them to care when you're in distress. It can really suck to have to keep giving up the dream that one day you'll be able to count on your family to nurture you emotionally, but I promise that it sucks less than being continually disappointed with no backup plan.

Researching emotional neglect can be really difficult because a lot of the best research psychology as a field has achieved on the topic comes from really extreme forms of neglect and abuse. Exactly the kind of neglect and abuse that society waves in the face of the "merely" emotionally neglected: "So what if you didn't get hugged enough! You had enough to eat, a roof over your head, and they never hit you! They weren't even mean or malicious! Stop whining!"

And... look, if you've just broken your legs and you're in a wheelchair, who would you rather learn about using a wheelchair from: someone who can easily walk everywhere all the time, or a double amputee who's been using a wheelchair for years? The first person can probably get around more easily, but the second one can tell you a lot more about the specific challenges and skills that will be central to this phase of your life.

That's the frame I propose for research: Your life might not have been as bad as the case studies you read (though it's probably worse than your family is willing to admit, because invalidation is itself a form of emotional neglect, and this is so common there's even a poem about it) but the issues they encounter and the skills they require are probably useful to you, too.

With that in mind, check out books about early childhood neglect and trauma like The Boy Who Was Raised as a Dog by Bruce Perry, which talks about the parts of the brain and developmental stages that can be impaired by toxic stress in childhood, and the various forms of treatment that can address each one.

As far as CBT, remember to focus on behaviour, not just cognition. Reading about using touch to self-soothe is good, but less powerful than using that knowledge to find a blanket you love to touch, and wrapping yourself up in it whenever you're upset. Neglect means that you failed to get repeated, predictable experiences of being comforted. Healing therefore means getting that practice in as an adult: Creating thousands of daily, repetitive experiences of being cared about. Caring about yourself, and finding people who will care about you.

Maybe also give Dialectical Behaviour Therapy workbooks a try? They're designed for Borderline Personality Disorder, which can be seen as a specific subset of complex trauma. Like, if the effects of childhood abuse and neglect were a rainbow, BPD might be red-orange. But what makes DBT useful is that it has examined which skills and coping mechanisms vital to emotional health people with BPD most commonly weren't taught/never learned/need more practice on. The curriculum might not overlap completely with your own needs if you fall into the yellow, green, blue, or violet aspects of C-PTSD, but it's a good starting place when you're inventorying skills and habits you want to strengthen.

Good luck? I hope this helps!

#staranise original #trauma tw #child abuse tw #child neglect tw #invalidating environments tw #emotional neglect #long post

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wowtobio · 4 years

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Hi, could you please write hcs for tendou, Kuroo, and iwazumi helping their s/o who has horrible back pain. Like to the point of almost not being able to get out of bed( I am in that situation, but during school I’d have to take a bunch of pain killers to get through the day)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟKuroo, Tendou, and Iwaizumi w/ an s/o who has back pain･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

awwh i’m really sorry to hear that :( back pain is the worst, i hope the pains go away for you very soon ❤

my last post flopped haha :’) o whale

genre: fluff

Kuroo

Alarm sounds jarred within the confines of your bedroom. Ignoring the searing pain in your back which was the true cause of your awakening, you slap your hand on the snooze button, silencing the most annoying sound in the world.

You sat up. Yup. Nope. Not today.

You collapse back into your pillows. The warmth and softness that welcomes you does not soothe the excruciating sting starting from your lower back spreading upwards. School is not worth enduring through combined with this. Gulping down some painkillers, you tell your parents class is a no go. And by the grim look you had, they allow you to stay home.

Kuroo notices your absence immediately, and he pulls out his phone sending you a text.

This boi will borderline spam your phone and will call you during break times at school. You appreciate the sentiment, but as you answer his fourth call with a tick mark on your forehead, he realizes that he should probably cut it out in order for you to get your beauty sleep.

He thinks about you the whole entire day and is lowkey worried abt your well being awwwwh

Buys your favorite snacks and some painkillers on the way home, Kenma’s like “you’re so whipped kuroo oml”

When Kuroo arrives, he just casually walks in. He’s been here before. Upon seeing your curled up form he sits beside you. No words exchanged as he lays his hand on the small of your back, rubbing it soothingly. His touch is familiar to you and you sigh with content.

You both end the day sharing and feeding each other the snacks and you listening to Kuroo talk about his day. He gives you the assingments he collected for you throughout the day and he offers to help you catch up on it. Of course, homework and studying is the last thing on your mind as you practically jump into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck,

His arms encircles your body, his fingertips stroking your back in attempt to relieve the pain.

Tendou

Groaning, you ignore Tendou’s phone calls. This was your morning routine, your adoring red-headed boyfriend would spam call you acting as your alarm, patiently waiting outside your dorm. Once you do wake up and get ready, you meet him outside and walk to your classes hand in hand.

However, today was a different case. Your back decided to act up once again, normally you would bite your tongue and deal with it. It may have been the way you slept or your back just decided to be a little dickhead, either way you couldn’t even sit up due to the screaming pain you were feeling.

Your ringtone going off and the text tones rapidly popping up did not help, your annoyance towards the middle blocker grew. Finally you picked up the phone.

“OI TENDOU COULD YOU QUIT IT PLEASE. I ain’t coming to class today so just go on without me”

Before you could hear his dramatic wails, you push the red end call button and throw your phone on a nearby nightstand. Not even 5 minutes of peace go by as the door to your dorm burst open with your worst enemy aka your boyfriend.

Thank goodness your roommate already headed off, but you silently cursed her for leaving the door unlocked. Ignoring the calls from Tendou you chuck a pillow at his face. For whatever reason he falls on his butt due to the force of said object and he spits out how cruel and cold you are.

When you don’t retort back like you usually do and instead curl up into a ball crying a little in pain, the boi goes silent. surprisingly. This is not the first time you experience these pains, Tendou now reads the room and he waddles on over to your side.

Poking your arm he c a u t i o u s l y asks if you’re okay. because he loves you ofc

“Nee~ (y/n)-chan. Are you okay? You’re no fun when you’re all grumpy like this”

No response again, he sighs before walking off. Your ears perk up at his short arrival. He brings back a heating pad and some painkillers with some water to down it. He offers it to you and you thank him shyly, a light pink dusting your cheekbones.

You didn’t even realize how much time has passed and you frantically panic and shout at Tendou he’d going to be late for class. He merely laughs it off and wave off your concerns.

“Don’t worry about it honey! I’ll be here for you, now lay on your stomach for me okay?”

There’s no convincing him otherwise, so you sigh and lay down. He starts to massage your back and even do his cute little karate chop thing that always made you giggle (seen in the gif above^^ lucky goshiki).

Iwaizumi

sooo I have read a few scenarios in which Iwaizumi is your nextdoor neighbor and all I have to say is yes. I love it. So I am writing about it here too because I want too.

#iwaisbestneighbor

Alright, upon waking up you cry out slightly as you predicted. The slight uncomfortableness you felt before and during you slept has ended with a now terrible aching in your back and all you want to do it make the pain stop.

Try to sit up? Haha no, you could barely turn over on your side to check your phone, sending your boyfriend who also happened to live next doors, a text message saying you won’t make it to school.

About 5-10 minutes pass and you hear your front door open. When your bedroom door opens you jump which causes you to yelp slightly in pain. Iwaizumi clad in his school uniform, tsks.

“And here I thought you were dying” He scowls slightly.

“I am Hajime! Or at least my back is hmph” You pout at him.

Iwaizumi only sighs before sitting on the edge of your bed, his backpack left on your carpet floors, long forgotten. “I was only kidding” he states matter of factly, his roughed up hands from his volleyball practices finds themselves tangled in your hair. His hand strokes and massages your scalp and you purr at his touch.

Tugging on his sleeve, you give him the puppy eyes you know he cannot resist. Hajime coughs slightly, attempting to hide the growing blush on his face and you only laugh at his shyness. He denies your request, claiming that he shouldn’t skip school.

“Buuuut Hajimeeee, you’re smart so it’s okay if it’s just one day” Cue the same puppy eyes, but this time cuter. Iwaizumi didn’t even know such a thing was possible.

Turning bright red once again, he pinches the bridge of his nose and groans before sneaking into your arms right beside you. Silently cheering out of joy, you bury your face into his broad chest and inhale his masculine scent. His strong biceps wrap around and massages your back, he hides his face in your hair and mumbles

“I’m doing this for you idiot, so be grateful”

a/n: it’s confirmed that i have a thing for iwaizumi’s hands sighh but thanks for reading! i hope everyone’s healthy, happy and staying safe hehe

masterlist

#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurō #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #tendo x reader #tendō satori #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #kuroo tetsuro x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #tendo satori x reader #haikyū!!#tetsurou kuroo x reader #hajime iwaizumi x reader #hq #anime

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imastrangeone98 · 4 years

Text

Worship

(A/N: i had a loose dream about something like this happening, and I couldn't stop thinking about it, so here is my interpretation of that dream)

WARNING: DT smex, church smex, slight blasphemy kink; potential sacrilegious content

For some reason, I see dmc 1 dante for this, but I took dmc 4/5 style dt aesthetic

The Bible verses here are from the book of Song of Songs - but I edited them for flow purposes XD this book is basically old time erotica when I think about it- and to think that I was allowed to read this as a kid

Their appearance at the abandoned church in the ghost town of Impia was for the sole sake of research. According to Faith, the location of the dangerous holy weapon- the Arrectis Lux- could potentially be tracked within the crumbling walls of the old, musty building.

So there they were: a half-demon and a nephilim together in a dead establishment, with the radiant face of Jesus Christ smiling down at them from the multicolored window.

Something about it just made his inner demon itch to come out.

As she paged through an old book, Dante busied himself with checking his pistols, adjusting his new coat, tugging the collar of his new shirt, overall just avoiding looking at the way her ass perfectly filled out her jeans.

Mine, the voice whispered in his mind. She's mine.

His eyes lingered on the dusty, cracked cross on the ground, on Jesus' face in the glass.

And his lip curled.

Mine. Not yours.

Love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave.

"Alright!" he heard her call from the small table at the side. "I think I've got it."

Giving her nothing more than a noise of acknowledgement, he silently slunk out of the pew he was sitting on and made his way towards her.

He was convinced that Jesus' eyes were following him.

Good.

He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in the crook of her neck, pressing light kisses to her sweet smelling skin.

She giggled. "That tickles. What are you up to?"

He didn't reply; he just kept sucking small love marks onto her neck.

She let out a soft hum. "You seem to be in quite a mood, today."

The warm sunlight continued to shine through the worn window of Jesus, washing everything in fractured colors- as if He was monitoring them.

For a dead God, He sure does love to watch, doesn't He? his demon cackled. Why don't we give Him a show?

His cock stirred in his pants. His body hummed with want.

"...Dante?" Faith sounded suspicious. "What are you...?"

"Nothing, angel." But the way he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the altar at the front of the room probably didn't help explain things.

"Why are you feeling so...!"

He quickly shushed her with a kiss to her lips, and sharply began to rut against her. "Baby..." he moaned, nuzzling into her hair. "I need you."

She sighed. "Again? After this morning?"

"It's different. We got an audience, this time." He gave her a wicked smile- and his eyes flickered with demonic energy.

Faith frowned. "What audience?"

"Him." He pointed straight above them, right at the stained window.

Her eyes widened. "...Oh."

"Yup."

"Then... shouldn't we stop?"

"Nah." His grin revealed a sharp canine, which he gleefully dragged over her pulse. He relished in the shiver that traveled down her spine. "I want Him to see."

He pressed his clothed cock right against her core, just near her covered entrance. The faint, delectable smell of arousal permeated the air, tainted the sunlight, electrified their blood.

"Indulge me?" Dante whispered, gazing deep into her golden eyes, their lips so close he could taste her breath.

You have stolen my heart with one glance of your eyes.

And to his delight, she yielded, leaning forward just enough to kiss him. Her hands buried themselves in his hair, tugging hard at the silvery locks.

That's it, he thought, dazed with pleasure. Choose me.

She smiled at him when she pulled away. "Always."

Let my beloved come into his garden and taste its choice fruits.

His face was buried in her now exposed pussy, delving further and further into her delicious body, hungrily slurping up every last drop of slick he could wring out of her.

And she moaned, her voice dripping with honey, her hands working magic in his hair- pushing him down when he didn't worship her enough to her liking, or pulling him up so he could turn his full attention back to her.

As his tongue traced circles around her clit, he couldn't help but think darkly: He's too busy being dead to make you feel good like I do.

I will climb the palm tree; I will take hold of its fruit.

His heavy, naked body pinned her small one to the top of the altar, her legs helplessly spread as he sheathed himself, inch by excruciating inch, into her tight heat. Bottoming out, they moaned in unison- their voices filling the chamber.

An unholy holy union.

But then he began to thrust.

It was almost unbearable, how tight she was, how hot she was. Each push and pull of his cock inside her made him see stars. One of her legs had found purchase around his waist, making sure he pushed harder, hit deeper, gave her everything he had and then some.

His bare chest gleamed with sweat. Every vein in his body flowed with fire.

"He'd never love you like this," Dante grunted, angling his cock so it hit her sweet spot.

"N- no!" she wailed, clinging to his wrists. "No, He wouldn't!"

"He'd never fuck you like this!"

"No! Oh... only you! Only you!" Faith's beautiful eyes looked up at him with so much love and adoration; it made his knees weak.

It made his demon growl.

"That's right," he purred, tasting salt and lust on her tongue when he kissed her. "Only me."

"Yes!" Her eyes rolled back in her head, and her hips canted upwards just so, allowing him to sink in deeper inside her, letting the sweet rhythm of his hips pick up in tempo and heat.

Shit.

"Tell me who I am," he moaned into her ear, lacing his fingers with her own and fucking her with increasing ferocity. The squelch of their bodies meeting grew louder; he felt something wet splash against his abdomen.

"You're..." Her body jolted with the change of pace. A gasp forced itself out of her throat. "You're mine."

"And...?"

A bead of sweat dripped down his forehead. Dante's inner demon howled inside him, demanding to be released.

Just a little more. Just... a little... more!

She licked the curve of his jaw, gently biting into his soft skin. And like magic, she whispered to him just what he needed to hear.

"You're my demon."

A guttural snarl escaped his chest. His fingertips sharpened into pitch black claws. His stunning blue eyes shifted into blood red slits.

"That's right." He sneered, evil desire glinting on his fangs. "A demon."

In a brilliant flash of light, his body transformed: fire-red scales covered every inch of his skin, large wings unfurled and sent a blast of hot air around them, and his demon heart pulsed with gold light- the symbol of his bond with his mate.

But most importantly... his cock had changed as well. Larger and thicker; it made a bigger bulge in Faith's stomach that he couldn't look away from. With trembling hands, she pressed against it, making him grumble and give a sharp nip to her jaw. A warning.

"Mate..." the half-angel cooed, leaning up to stroke his leathery cheek. "My love."

"Not God?" he insisted, his voice sending tremors rushing through her shaking body.

"No," she gasped with a roll of her hips, allowing his ridged cock to delve further into her cunt. "You."

His eyes narrowed. "Good." Taking care to not pierce through her skin, Dante grabbed the back of her knees and practically folded her in half, before slowly rocking back and forth inside her.

Had it not been for his sheer stubbornness, he would have cum right then and there. The ridges on his dick rubbed perfectly against her walls, creating such delicious friction that it made them both drool. Her insides pulled him in deeper into its depths and clung to him, unwilling to release him when he pulled out, and greedy when he pushed back in.

...She was perfect. From her messy black hair that fanned around her head, to her beautiful body that took him so well: Faith was flawless.

Slick gushed out of her hole, leaking around his cock, and he couldn't resist the temptation to lean down and allow his long, forked tongue to lap up her juices. His chest rumbled as he savored her taste- sweeter than any fruit.

But it must have been too much, because soon, she began to wail. Her body glowed a soft gold, and runes began to float around her.

She was transforming.

Instantly, he leaned down and nipped at her neck, groaning at the slight burning sensation on his tongue.

His eyes, once again, latched onto the smiling face of Jesus.

"I'm your God," he growled out, tracing his claws over her glowing belly.

"Amen."

As he continued to pound away inside her wet hole, her wings emerged from behind, fluttering with the force of his thrusts. His own wings tilted downwards just slightly, until feathers met scales in a strange kiss.

He pressed against her, and their bodies hissed at the opposing synergy between them. Taking advantage of the position, he pushed right against her sweet spot, borderline abusing it with how forcefully he grinded against her, moving his hips in small circles to stimulate every sensitive button she had.

"Tell me you love me," he demanded, his fangs grazing the column of her throat.

"I love you!" she cried, clinging to him. The mating mark on her neck glowed a deep red. "I love only you!"

"Tell me you'll worship me!"

"With everything I am! Everything I have!"

"Everything you have?" he repeated, feeling his release rapidly approaching.

"Yes! Yes, yes, yesyesyes-"

"Then cum!" He pressed his fingers against her sensitive bundle and waited.

And Faith surrendered, giving the demon above her every last gasp, tremble, and moan of pleasure she could possibly offer.

And with a roar that could shatter glass, Dante came, fucking every drop of cum that he could fit inside her soaked cunt.

It felt like hours before he finally finished. His cock twitched slightly as it gave up the last few drops of molten seed into her overstuffed hole.

Slowly, the liquid lust that fueled the two lovers began to fade away, leaving only a soft, pleasant ache behind. Their bodies returned to their human forms, and he wasted no time in peppering her face with kisses, caressing the skin of her thighs, licking over the small wounds he inflicted.

I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine.

"I love you," Faith murmured, kissing his cheeks, jaw, lips, and staring at him with so much love that it made his heart soar.

"Love you too," Dante replied, hoping and praying that she could feel the overwhelming passion he had for her multiple times over.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw shards of glass littered on the floor. The sunlight that bathed the two wasn't filtered in the slightest.

And unbeknownst to them, small trickles of their combined slick leaked out of her hole, smearing their thighs, before dribbling onto the old marble of the altar.

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A/N: now that I think about it, I think my dream went a little differently than this XD I think I'll make a sequel to this later on

I have never done anything like this before, and it kinda shows

#devil may cry #dmc dante #dmc oc #dante x reader #dante x oc

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himooonlight · 3 years

Text

who are you? pt. 4 (reggie x reader)

pairing: reggie x reader

word count: 4.4k

plot: you dream about reggie constantly and when you see him perfoming with julie, you decide to ask her about him

warnings: confusion? EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE THOUGH, I PROMISE

A/N: look who is back :) I wanna thank @i-should-be-writing-my-own-fic for being so sweet to me and giving me such a thoughtful feedback about the story. that gave me the motivation I needed to keep writing - so keep in mind that comments help the writer, ok? just hope I’m not disappointing anyone with this chapter by the way… and sorry again for taking forever to update.

here's chapter 1, chapter 2 and chapter 3

it’s @carolineeforbes' gif, by the way; I’m not sure how to add that “gif by…” at the end (cause I’m old and I know nothing about html)

As soon as the last class of the day ends, I make my way to Julie's locker so we can go to the cafe together. I haven't seen Reggie all day, but something tells me he's just as nervous as I am. Waiting for her, alone, I let my mind go to him, remembering his sweet smile.

There's something about him that gives me peace. It's not explainable or rational; it's just there. An invisible feeling that makes me ecstatic, blissful because he exists. And if that's not love, if it's something else, I can accept and live with it knowing that he taught me how to feel visible, alive.

Ironically, he is none of those things.

- Y/N, hi! - Nick's voice greets me. - How are you?

Nick is alone too. His blue eyes are darker than usual and his aura makes me shiver - more so than yesterday, his presence is heavy and disturbing. And I can't understand why. His clothes are darker than usual and even his cute freckles look more aggressive, if that's possible.

Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me, but I can almost swear I see the own devil in the smile on his face. His whole body looks stiffer and more brutal, making me step back mindlessly and look around for somebody that could confirm that his eyes are actually trying to hurt me.

I'm out of my mind, for sure.

- Hey, Nick. - I say. My voice is breathy and low, matching my demeanor. - I'm alright. How about you?

I don't really wanna know about him and it's borderline annoying how my body is responding to the situation. My hands are shaking so much I have to hide them in my pockets. When my eyes start watering, I understand just how terrible the situation really is.

- Why are you so afraid of me, hum? - There's an eerie glow in his eyes that can only be described as demonic. Nick is following my every move, almost like he is trying to control my actions or read my mind. When he gets closer to me and lets his thumb meet my right cheek, a single tear rolls down, to what he smiles. He's enjoying the situation. - It's just me.

It's not him. It's not Nick.

I don't know what is going on, but this person is evil.

I can smell Nick's breath and see it too. It's purple and dense and I'm for sure out of my mind, because I can see it all around us as if trying to suffocate me.

The purple mist swirls around my head and vanishes quickly while my tears dry. Nick's smile disappears and his stare holds something heavy like betrayal. He looks disappointed, annoyed, angry, all together.

- I can't believe this. - He murmurs, stepping back. The boy is imitating a lost puppy or a spoiled kid that isn't getting what he wants. - Your soul is…

Nick looks so shocked and that gives me strength. The sudden vigor allows me to break our eye contact and recompose myself, just in time to blink and get an image in my head like a daydream. But it wasn't a dream or my imagination; it feels like a memory, just like what I experience with Reggie.

I see a big stage. The curtains are embroidered with CC's and everything is either black or gold. There's a tall man standing in the center, with the same aura as Nick, and the same expressive eyes. He's screaming for attention and validation.

The man is wearing a velvet suit and sparkly shoes. I can tell he's narcissistic and have some kind of power over people, because nobody around the place is looking directly at him. They all look scared and conflicted; probably because he demands attention but makes them feel bad about it.

Someone opens the curtain a little bit more and I can see a big glass box filled with water. Three assistants wrap his hands and feet with chains and when he sees me staring, a devious grin spreads across his face, making me shiver and get an urge to run.

I manage to do that, going back to the school halls in real life, ignoring all that happened in my mind just seconds before.

Nick is nowhere to be seen and my body is not shaking anymore.

- Hey, Y/N. - Julie says. Flynn smiles at me and I try my best to do the same, but I'm still overwhelmed by the feeling of being controlled. - Are you alright? Not to be that person, but you look like you've seen a ghost.

Flynn laughs while her friend winks at me, lighting up the mood. Still, I can't wrap my head around what just happened. I feel sick to my stomach, dizzy and they probably can see it in my face that I'm not fine.

- Don't know if Reggie said anything to you, but they talked and Alex doesn't feel ready to go to the coffee shop yet. He's afraid that they're going to move on and disappear and he's not sure if that's what he wants now. - She explains. Flynn nods her head the whole time, agreeing with everything Julie says and making me wonder how much she knows. Probably everything. - But, really, are you feeling ok?

- I think I just need to go home and sleep a bit. - After trying my best to assure them I'll be fine, I start making my way to the parking lot. We're not the best of friends, so I don't feel comfortable explaining anything, especially when Reggie's nowhere to be seen. - I'll see you tomorrow, ok?

I can't find my sister's car when I get to our usual spot, so I just stand there, calming my senses and looking at the sky. It's a beautiful day with a few clouds and it's impossible not to find solace in the pretty blue infinity.

The clouds are moving in all its glory. The cumulus clouds are very fluffy and not very high in the sky, letting me notice their cotton-like appearance distinctly. It's so peaceful that I can't stop my mind from wandering to Reggie and that same feeling of harmony and happiness that he makes me feel.

- Julie told me you were not feeling well. - The boy startles me, making me jump and almost scream. - Did you fall? Did you eat something bad? Maybe you should go to the hospital. I should know that considering I died from a bad hot dog. What did you have?

His wide eyes and fast words make me laugh, forgetting everything that happened previously. He tries to touch my hand and signs when that doesn't happen. I do the same, regretting momentarily the day I met him.

I know I love Reggie. That feeling, however, is like getting tickled and laughing out loud. For someone just passing by, it might look like we're having fun, but it's also painful and excruciating. A smile doesn't necessarily means joy; sometimes it's just a mechanism to stay positive. And positivity is very important when the person you love is a ghost.

- I'm alright now, don't worry. - In cue, Daisy arrives. - Wanna go home with me? - I ask, covering my mouth with my hand, pretending to yawn. He follows me without answering and the way Day looks at me as soon as I get inside tells me that she believes her little sister is simply happy with the tickling. - Hey.

- Well, well, well. Look who is in love.

Reggie sits in the backseat and it's inevitable to feel nervous. It doesn't really matter that Day can't see him; the only important thing is that we haven't talked about feelings yet and now he knows how I feel.

He knows what I feel: love.

Suddenly I am drowning in dichotomy, a bipolar feeling of relief and nervousness.

I am relieved that the "decision" is no longer in my hands.

It's like that child's game, hot potato. The ball would pass in a circle and if the song ends and you are holding the object, the responsibility to run after someone is in your hands. Every time I held the ball as a kid, I felt excitement, anxiety and nervousness and yet I still enjoyed playing the game, even with the risk of losing.

Reggie knowing how I feel is basically that same feeling of not knowing whether I would have to run or be disappointed and relieved at the same time for not being chosen. The next step is his to take; to either stop the music or continue singing.

- Sis? - Daisy's voice brings me back to the car and all the consequences. - Are you ok?

- Yeah, yeah. Just a bit nervous about some school stuff.

I met Reggie in school, so it's not exactly a lie. Josh's voice rings in my head saying "I ain't calling you a truther" and making me wish I could tell everybody about how I met Reginald and how much I like him.

- We went from love interest to school project. Y/N, we really need to talk. - Reggie's remarks make me roll my eyes. - What am I to you? And you don't need to be nervous, darling. It's just me.

It's just me.

Same words that left Nick's lips.

I feel shivers running down my spine, remembering everything. His gaze, the strong perfume and my own thoughts all over the place. What about my soul? What about me that scared him so much? And that stage? The magician?

Too many questions for someone that just wanted a few answers.

- Reggie, please, we'll talk later.

Oh, no.

Daisy is looking at me like I am crazy and she's possibly right. There's no way I am not losing my mind by now.

- Who is Reggie?

Oh, no.

- Reggie?

- Yeah, you just said his name. Is this part of your school thingy? - She bounces like a little kid, making me breathe normally. She's not about to ask if I lost my mind, great. - Practicing some of those insanely creative theatre games? How does this one work?

Oh, yes.

- I have to create this character, right? - Reggie scoots closer to listen to my explanation, sitting on the edge of the seat. I can see him through the rearview mirror and he has a curious expression on his face. A very cute expression that makes me smile. - For the whole day I have to talk to him, Reggie, like he really exists. - Daisy beams and that gives me courage to continue. - I get extra points if I get to make somebody else speak and interact with him, so do you wanna try?

I really ain't a truther.

The thing with my family is that they are incredibly supportive, especially Daisy and my dad. My sister's bad temper is not even half as intense as her supportive-big-sister-mode. Probably because of that that I don't have many friends - because it is very easy to get lost in my family's love. They make me feel like I don't really need other people, like nobody else would be as important as them, so why try? I've always had friends here and there, but opening up and trusting is a whole different story.

Maybe that's why Reggie had such an impact on me; because he made me realize that the world is bigger than my little bubble, than what meets the eye.

- I need to know a little more about this Reggie dude. Characteristics, please.

- Reggie, what do you want me to tell her? - I look at him, turning my head to face his way and the view makes my heart melt: he's staring at us with thankful eyes.

The boy is on the verge of tears. Happy tears, apparently. It feels so heartwarming to see his big white smile and his freckles from up close.

- I… I don't know. What do you want her to know about me?

- Well, Day is more than just my sister. - I reply while Daisy just smiles, keeping her attention on the road. - She's my best friend, so I'd like her to know everything about you. I know she'll like you anyways cause you're both sweethearts. You two like Star Wars and she says she hates puns, but that's a lie. And you're always making jokes and being adorable, so that's a start, right? You'll get along just fine.

- What about appearance-wise? Is he cute? - My sister's question has Reggie laughing and blushing. Their interaction is so cute and the tears on Reggie's eyes say the same.

- He has deep blue eyes, a pointy nose and some freckles that look like the galaxy. For all I know he could have the whole bear keeper constellation on his face, I swear. - The way he observes me speaking foolishly about him is encouraging and sweet. He seems to be admiring me too, intrigued by the way I describe his features.

- Bear keeper constellation, hum? He should watch out for poisoning then.

My sister giggles scares the hell out of me and by Reggie's silence and wide eyes, he's panicking too.

- What? - I mumble.

- Icarius? The wine story? - She tries explaining, but seeing my confused semblance, she continues. - Icarius died because some people thought he poisoned them with wine. They didn't understand alcohol back then and well, he died for nothing. Poor guy. After all, a god really did trust him with the wonders of wine because he was such a great person and he basically died for that. For being too good. - She shrugs like it's nothing, like I am not surprised and startled by the coincidence. I never heard that story in my life. - But what else? I wanna know more about him.

Reggie shakes his head and closes his mouth, blinking a few times in the process. I take my time to study him once again, ignoring my own surprise.

- He's funny, positive, loves animals and can be a bit of an airhead, but that's cause he's very creative and imaginative. He is a bassist, likes flirting and I'd say he uses jokes as a way to cope with sadness.

I can't look at him while saying those things, so I fix my posture and stare at the car in front of us. It's too personal and I don't know how he truly feels about me and the way I read him. After all, I officially met him yesterday and every single dream could be wrong. My version of him could be wrong.

I could only hope I was right and he would keep singing in that silent game of hot potato.

- The only important question left is: what's his Harry Potter house?

And that's how we spend the rest of the day watching Harry Potter, with Reggie sitting beside me with his eyes glued to the tv screen. When Chamber of Secrets ends, my parents get home and Day quickly explains that we'll be having company for dinner. Reggie doesn't leave my side for a second and even though I could speak to him when my sister was around, my parents might think differently, so I don't really hold my breath.

- We have company for dinner, dad. - Daisy says.

- Oh, really? - My dad asks. He's already in the kitchen, so we follow him there. Reggie sits on the counter while Day helps with the food and I just stand by the door, looking at my family. - Who is coming?

Daisy does something funny with her eyebrows, teasing me, and I roll my eyes, because that's very rich coming from her. Reggie is silent, just studying our reactions and conversations, so I decide to imitate him, sitting by his side. I want him to feel included in the family, like he belongs there, like he is welcome in our house.

- Dad, this is my friend Reginald, but you can call him Reggie. - I say, pointing at the boy next to me. I know they can't see him; it would be impossible considering he is dead. Reggie's eyes, however, beg for love and appreciation, so I don't mind making a fool of myself if that means I get to make him feel comfortable. - He'll be eating dinner with us tonight, if that's alright.

- Well, sure. - My father answers, with a smile on his face and no second thoughts whatsoever. - We're happy to have you here, Reggie.

Daisy winks at me and Reggie is astonished with my dad's answer, especially because he really is looking and speaking in his direction, to the place I pointed. That probably makes him feel alive, but I don't really have time to say anything else because soon enough my dad walks up to him and goes for a handshake. My dad doesn't wait for Reggie's hand to shake it, but the boy doesn't mind and lets his transparent skin go through my dad's solid body, trying any kind of connection he can.

- Cold hands, hum? But are you really just friends with my daughter? Cause I don't recall any friends staying for dinner before.

It's not really a surprise that my father would participate in any kind of experiment, project or whatever he thinks this is; his trust and love for me are the only irrational part of him and he is very good at that - trusting me with his eyes closed. As Daisy explains everything to him, his tired figure just keeps cooking dinner and making a few questions here and there. He starts with the basic "how was your day?" and moves on to "bassist that loves country music? That's new. I would like to listen to your music, Reggie".

He's not weirded out by the situation and that makes me wonder if I should tell him the truth. Or at least half of it. Maybe he wouldn't understand everything, but at least I'd feel lighter. When he starts telling us the positive stories that he's seen in the hospital today, Reggie interrupts his monologue by leaving the kitchen, so I follow him.

- What's wrong? - I ask, indicating my room. He goes in and I close the door. - Is everything okay?

He doesn't answer for a moment. He just stands there, looking out the window. His torso is covered in the same black leather jacket that I've seen so many times before in my dreams and his hair looks perfect. He looks perfect. Even when he sniffs and starts crying.

He looks perfect and I'm freaking out.

- I am so sorry for today, Reggie. It was never my intention to make you feel bad, I swear. That doesn't mean you shouldn't feel whatever you're feeling; I'm just justifying myself really. - I start mumbling, letting the words come out of my mouth with no filter. - You don't have to stay, if you don't want to. You can leave and we can talk tomorrow... I don't know.

He's not singing in our game of hot potato. Reggie's sad and it's painful to see him like that, crying, perhaps even regretful. After the heavy day, I can't stop myself from crying too, feeling unwanted, wrong.

My heart hurts.

My heart hurts for him, almost like we share the same body.

- I forgot how much I missed being alive. - He says, letting his fingers roam his cheeks, cleaning any signs of tears. - It's not just about dying young, you know? It's like ordering a pizza that you know will never arrive, but you still don't order another one. You just keep waiting and waiting. And you can almost taste it; the cheese, the smell, the love in the shape of pepperoni… but it's still not enough. Being a ghost is not enough for me, Y/N. I need to make my own pizza or order something else.

A glimpse of determination in Reggie's eyes makes me feel uneasy. If Alex said he didn't want to find out, "ordering something else" is off limits. Going alone to the cafe looking for answers could mess their friendship and hurt all of them even more.

- Are you sure you can't wait a little bit more? We can wait together, if it helps. - My reasoning is not the best in the world; I am basically bargaining more time with him. - We can finish Harry Potter, I can show you some music. And, of course, you still have Julie and your friends, right? Maybe the pizza will arrive, Reggie. Have a little faith.

He opens his mouth a few times, trying to say something, but nothing comes out. He shrugs and turns around, staring at the window again. Outside, the weather is the same and everything looks peaceful. But inside of him, things are different. His world is not the same as it was when he entered my house.

He wants answers now.

- What kind of music do you wanna show me?

His smile is not reaching his eyes, but I take whatever I can get, grabbing my phone quickly and playing Taylor Swift. He falls in love with her banjo songs, like I knew he would, and then shows me some of his favorite musicians. We talk about movies and he's impressed to know that Back To The Future is a classic, considering that none of his friends liked it back then.

It's so easy to talk to him. His overflowing attention and care is noticeable and heartwarming. It's not like he's just answering me, no, he's making conversation, showing interest and curiosity about me, about the things I like. And I do the same with him, because I wanna know everything there is to know, everything he wants me to know and love.

With him so close to me it's very easy to forget he's not alive.

- You know what I was thinking? - He asks with his face so close to mine that I can even count his freckles.

- No. - I whisper and he chuckles. - What is it?

- I really wish they could see me. Your family. They are so nice. I really wish my unfinished business involved them too so they could see me. - Reggie sounds sad again, so put my hand on his knee, not really touching him. We're sitting on the floor, with our backs resting on the wall and our legs close to our chests, looking like two lost kids. - At least I've got you.

- Your parents probably miss you too, you know? Don't you think we should look for them? Do you think it would help?

- I am not sure anymore. I think I want to know, but at the same time what if I get disappointed? What if they don't care about me anymore? Don't think about me at all? Or what if they do? What if they can't move on? - He touches my hand softly and I can tell he has to focus a lot for that to happen. - It's also scary to see what they've become. To see what my future could've been.

He doesn't say anything else after that. His thumb tries stroking my skin and it takes a while until he finally succeeds. My heart is about to get out of my chest and I stay still, afraid that he'll run away like he did the night before.

- You are not your parents, Reggie, just as I am not mine. As much as they are responsible for us to some extent, it's not as if we are a property being marked by our last name. Our family is not our whole world; if anything, they're the cheerleaders who stand outside the field cheering for us. Well, - I feel his gentle touch more prominently so I turn my gaze to our connected hands. - at least it should be like that. But anyway, I'm very proud of you. You are a beautiful, loved human being with an incredible capacity to love others. Alive or dead, you're full of life and that's amazing.

I don't want to extend the topic too much, just in case he's not ready for it, but I know that our parents also lost individual characteristics when they became parents. They didn't have their own names anymore; they were "my father" and "my mother". It seemed that they were less their own and more ours, as if their value was linked to their children in some way.

- I… thank you. - Suddenly I can't feel his touch anymore. Disappointed, we stand up at the same time and again, we're so close I can memorize the exact shape of his lips. - You have no idea how much I… I needed this. Needed you. How much I need you. I'm happy we found each other, Y/N. I really am.

- Me too, Reggie. I just wish our timing was a bit better, you know?

- Yeah… I mean, the world is so old, right? At least we got some time here together. Let's just enjoy it from now on. Like it's now or never. - He smiles brightly again and I imitate him. - That's one of our songs, by the way. You need to hear -

The doorbell startles us. Reggie and I laugh at our own reactions and I go get the door. When I open it, Nick is there, with arrogant eyes and an infuriating smile.

- Hey, Y/N. - He says. - I think we need to talk. Now.

- Honey, who is this? - My mother asks me. Just like Daisy, she has that pretentious grin that tells me she thinks we're more than friends. - Is this Reggie that your dad was telling me about? Come in, sweetheart. Dinner is almost ready.

Mom runs to the kitchen, probably to tell the others about the news, and I'm scared again. If looks could kill, I'd be just like Reggie now.

- Oh, so Reggie is here too? Good, that way we can kill two birds with one stone. - Reggie comes to the rescue, but he looks just as conflicted and confused as me. - And just so you know, you're one of the birds, Y/N, and I won't let you escape again.

- What is this little dude talking about? - Reggie asks.

Nick's head turns to Reggie's direction and I feel sick again. It's hard to breathe and the purple mist coming out of the blonde's mouth is scarier than before. He's standing at my door, invading my house and threatening me. Everything is too much, my own body, my own thoughts and the house feels smaller and smaller.

- I am talking about you, your friends and this rat right here. I've been looking for you for two lifetimes already and I'm not letting you go again. Not without getting my revenge first.

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