#hope this helps ease the pain for you too
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time off â t.w.
pairing -> sick toto x reader
word count -> 1.1k
warnings -> toto is sick, lots of hurt + comfort, slight cursing, mostly fluffy stuff
a/n -> i am finally working through fics that are lined up in the garage. i believe this one was a request from an anon! i hope you guys enjoy! <3
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âââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. âââ
the blaring of an alarm pulls you from your slumber.
stirring, you wrinkle your nose, fighting a yawn. there's a swath of comforter to your left, the fabric rising and falling. carefully, you nudge the bundle, your voice thick with exhaustion.
"toto, it's time to get up love."
âââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. âââ
there's a groan that rises from the comforter, the figure rolling over. he wraps an arm around your frame, bringing you in close.
"f-five more minutes."
you can't help but notice that his voice is deeper. significantly deeper. there's a bit of a rasp to it, almost as if it pained him to speak. he nuzzles his head into your shoulder, coughing ever so slightly.
arching your brow, you purse your lips. this sort of behavior in the morning was unlike toto. he was a man who structured his mornings around a strict routine. each day, without fail, he woke up to his alarm, getting out of bed with ease. typically, you were the one who struggled to get up, as he had to lure you with breakfast.
shifting your body, you turn over, a tender hand connecting with his cheek. almost instantly, you feel the heat radiating off his skin.
"are you feeling okay?"
an eye opens, forming a slit. he exhales, shaking his head, "i'm fine. just want a few more minutes of sleep. that's all."
"are you sure?" your brow furrows, "you feel warm."
letting out a grunt, toto snuggles closer to you, sniffling, "i was just underneath the covers."
almost instantly, it clicked.
he wasn't feeling well. he must have came down with something. after all, it was the start of winter. everyone was spreading around a menagerie of illnesses and viruses. it was just customary with the change of the seasons. due to the nature of his work, he came into close contact with dozens upon dozens of individuals nearly every day.
it could have been anyone who was sick, but he was around them long enough to contract something. what it was, you weren't quite sure. hopefully it wasn't anything too serious.
pressing kiss to his temple, you engulf him in your arms, resting your chin on top of his head. you can feel a smile form against your chest, the team principal murmuring words you can't quite decipher. there were more than likely in german, his native tongue.
"you probably need to get going soon," you murmur, grateful for the coziness of the morning cuddles, "don't you have a presentation to look over?
"mmm," he hums, "probably."
"so why aren't you up yet?"
"not feeling well," he grumbles, "i think one of the interns gave me something."
"those damn interns," a giggle bubbles up in your throat, "what are you going to do with 'em?"
"send a letter to their university filing a complaint," a hoarse chuckle flows from his lips, "i should really get up, though. i do need to look over that presentation."
"maybe you should take the day off," your hand delves into his hair, playing with the soft brunette locks, "you should really get some more rest. i could make you some tea and some soup later on, if you're feeling up to it."
"you make it so damn difficult to leave," he counters, squeezing you in his embrace, "i just can't stay away from that pretty face."
"then why haven't you called in yet?"
"you know why i haven't."
reaching over to the nightstand, you pick up his phone, "i could always do it for you."
raising his head, toto tilts his chin upward, his gaze twinkling with amusement, "i would pay good money to watch that. why don't you go on then, love. call in for me?"
"i will," the words are barely a whisper, "you know i would do anything for you, right?"
licking his lips, the team principal readjusts, scooting up so that your faces were eye-level. he leans in, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. fingers grasp your chin, pulling you in even further.
you would more than likely get sick as well, but that was a risk you were more than willing to take.
especially when he was so fucking irresistible, admiring you with those beautiful mocha depths. his lashes flutter as your lips collide with his, a rumble brewing in his chest as your tongue trails along his lower lip.
"c-careful schatzi, i don't want to infect you."
"you can do more than infect me," fingers tug at his roots, "infect me, kiss me, fuck-"
"maybe i do need to take that time off then," his tone is brimmed with lust, and you can't help but feel a firmness pressing against your inner thigh.
"go ahead baby," you cock your head, batting your lashes, "call in. for me."
before you know it, he's out of the bed and on his feet, pecking your forehead, "i'll be right back. give me five minutes, love."
as he strolls out, pressing his phone to your ear, you wait until you hear the steps dissipate. cautiously, you slink out of the space, tiptoeing down the stairs.
your poor, pathetic man.
all riled up over a few kisses.
toto wolff taps his screen, relief rippling as he makes his way back toward the room. he was able to successfully call in, just take a day off and fight whatever illness this was. he could stay with his love, all cuddled up and drunk off bliss.
however, when he pokes his head into the bedroom, his heart skips a beat.
you werenât there.
yet, a scent wafts into his nostrils. one that he knew all too well.
the aroma of tea. and something else he couldnât quite place his finger on.
as toto clambers down the stairs, he makes a right, entering the kitchen. once his eyes fall on you, his knees buckle.
youâre at the stove, brow knit with concentration as you flip something in a skillet. thereâs a cup of tea waiting for him at the island, steam billowing from the mug. padding over to you, he peers over your shoulder, curious to see what was in the skillet.
âoh hi,â you flinch at first, yet relax as his arms wrap around your waist, âi figured iâd make you a nice breakfast so that you could take some medication.â
so thatâs what you were up to.
the team principal presses a swift peck to your temple, âthank you, schatzi. i adore you.â
âof course! i love you.â
âand i love you,â totoâs breath is warm as it fans against your earlobe, the words thready with need as he continues.
âweâre going to make this day off worthwhile. okay schatzi? once weâre finished here, youâre mine.â
âââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. âââ
#toto wolff x reader#toto wolff#toto wolff x y/n#toto wolff x you#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#f1#f1 x reader#toto wolff fanfic#toto wolff imagine
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let your husband help you (shanks x reader)
eq: HELLO HELLO, GOD I DIDN'T KNOW YOU HAD YOUR REQUESTS OPEN, I LOVE YOUR WRITING OF SHANKS, I LOVE WHEN THEY PUT READER AS SHANKS' WIFE AHHHâźď¸âźď¸âźď¸âźď¸ something about shanks, with a fem!reader (if possible) that has wings and sometimes the wings with feathers require molting and there are areas that cannot be reached closer to the back and requires help to remove the loose feathers
a/n: (i am playing valorant as i write this help) ty for the request anon! :D the enthusiasm is very endearing ;;0;; hope you enjoy reading! also man i love writing for Shanks :3c
contents: a bit of angst (fem!reader is having a hard time), descriptions of itchiness and pain, comfort, fluff :D, a tad bit suggestive bc itâs Shanks
wc. 1.2k
wanna be on my taglist?
i.
these past few weeks have been torture. today especially so.
alone in your bedroom aboard the Red Force you writhe in itchiness and pain as your back aches in a way it hasnât in a long time. lying face-down on your bed, you feel your wings twitch and tremble as you contort your arms to reach behind you as far as humanly possible; only to groan in defeat when the most you can do is brush the offending feathers with your fingertips.
for days now a small part of your brain has been nagging at you to go get Shanks for the sake of your poor back and wings but youâve heard from your crewmates how busy heâs been so youâve pushed the urge aside. now, though, the idea has forced its way to the forefront of your mind out of desperation, no doubt.
holding back a sob of frustration that threatens to make its way out of your throat, you nuzzle your face into your husbandâs pillow, hoping that his scent can serve as a distraction of some kind. more than anything though, it simply acts as a poor placeholder for the real thing and only makes your aching heart (and wings) yearn for him even more.
âcâmon, (Y/N), donât be shy,â his gentle voice called from outside the utility closet in which youâd chosen to hideâaway from him. you felt your face heat up at Shanksâ persistence to help with something he wasnât even totally aware of; he just knew you were in pain so he had to help.
âitâs okay, i can deal with it myself,â you lied, wincing when one of your wings brushed against a shelf behind you. most of the molting feathers had already been dealt with but your wings had grown a lot since the last time you molted and now they were far too big for your hands to reach. âjust leave me alone.â
âif you donât tell me whatâs up, iâll tell Rayleigh.â
âno!â you protested instantly. as much as you trusted the first mate of your crew with your life, this was far too embarrassing to get him involved. âif you tell anyone iâll leave the crew, you asshole.â
you had meant it only as a false threat but the sudden silence told you Shanks took it a bit more seriously than you thought he would.
âokay, fine,â he replied and you could hear the pout on his face. âi just wanna help. thereâs nothing to be embarrassed about. you know you can trust me to take care of you.â
a particularly sharp pain shoots through your spine from your right wing and the whine of discomfort slips past your lips before you can help yourself. too far gone to care about anyone hearing from outside your quarters, you let yourself sob aloud, the relief from crying doing little to ease your discomfort.Â
the immense helplessness of your situation makes you realise how pampered youâve been all these years. how lucky you are to have had such a loving friend-turned-lover who always took it upon himself to care for you. now here you are: alone in your bedroom, struggling with a task that you long shouldâve learned how to deal with yourself.
you nearly give in to the urge to seek out the one person you trust to alleviate your pain but at this point, youâre too tired to even get off the bed. maybe itâs for the best, you wonder to yourself. your eyes flutter closed as you pull Shanksâ pillow a bit closer and bury your face deeper into it as you allow yourself to be lulled to sleep by your exhaustion, hoping that at least you can sleep away the next few hours of aches and itching.
ii.
letting out a sigh of relief, the one-armed Emperor takes his time returning to his ship after a grueling few weeks of settling disputes between several smaller pirate crews. normally such tasks would never take this longâhell, most of the time he didnât even have to step inâbut civiliansâ lives were at stake so he had no choice.
now, as Shanks nears the dock and sees the Red Force coming into view, all he can think about is taking a nap with you. not only have his duties kept him away from you all day every day, heâd also been going to bed at ungodly hours, crawling under the sheets beside you long after youâve fallen asleep. though he canât wait to spend some quality time with you, he wants nothing more than to rest by your side with the knowledge that heâll finally be able to wake up after you for once.
âhey Captain,â Benn calls out from aboard the deck once Shanks reaches speaking-distance. âi think (Y/N) needs your help.â
âsee, whatâd i say?â you could practically hear him smiling as he sat behind you, tenderly plucking out the final few loose feathers. âthereâs no need to be shy around me.â Shanks tugged at a particularly stubborn feather and when it finally came loose, you couldnât help the moan of relief that came out of your mouth.
you felt your cheeks rapidly heat up in shame as you buried your face in your hands, fully prepared for the boy to make fun of you. but it never came. instead, Shanks stayed quiet as he soothed the particular spot of skin with his fingers in a manner so tender you couldnât believe it was him.
âthere, all done,â he said. you were grateful but you couldnât bring yourself to turn around and face him even though you knew you had to in order to thank him properly.Â
as though sensing your dilemma, Shanks leaned forward to press his lips against your shoulder blade, right above where your wings sprouted from your back. it sent shivers down your spine and goosebumps appeared all over but you didnât tell him to stop, if anything, you wanted him to continue.
youâre ripped out abruptly from your dream when the door of your quarters slams shut. from your face-down position in bed, youâre unable to see who it is but only one person in this world would be brave enough to make such an entrance.
âwelcome back,â you groan, using your arms to push the upper half of your body off the mattress as you turn your head to glance over your shoulder.
âwhy didnât you call for me?â your husband responds, tossing his cape onto the floor before rushing over to guide you back down into a resting position. Shanks pulls over two other more pillows and places them in a way he knows, from years of experience, makes you the most comfortable. âhow long have your wings been molting?âÂ
thereâs a slight hint of frustration in his voice but you know itâs not directed at you. it doesnât make you feel any less guilty, though.
âit started⌠two weeks agoâŚâ you mumble into Shanksâ pillow.
âyouââ he cuts himself off with a deep sigh before he says anything impulsive. the Emperor understands you just didnât want to disrupt his work and he appreciates the sentiment greatly, heâd just hoped that after all these years of marriage, youâd know how heâd do quite literally anything for you. this, he decides as his eyes scan your twitching wings and tangled feathers, is a conversation for another day though.
âpoor thing,â Shanks coos instead, leaning down to press kisses all over the back of your neck and around your shoulder blades as he runs his hand down your side. you can feel his lips smile against your skin when your body shivers in response. âyou mustâve been in so much pain, hmm? let your husband help you out.âÂ
â
taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots @appalost @hyper-fic-ation @dressycobra7 @38lyra38 @chaseyui
#one piece#one piece x reader#one piece x yn#one piece x you#op x reader#op#shanks x reader#red haired shanks#shanks#one piece live action x reader#opla x reader#imagine#fanfic#angst#fluff#comfort
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Warriors stared at the unconscious man at his feet. So did Legend and Twilight. In that moment, it proved that silence could, indeed, be loud.
"I wasn't expecting him to drop like that," Warriors said.
"I wasn't expecting you to have a left hook like that," Legend said. He sounded far too admiring considering there was an unconscious man at his feet. It didn't stop Warriors from preening a little.
"Is he okay?" Twilight asked. He gently nudged the man with his foot and flinched when he realized what he had done.
"He'll be fine," Warriors said. He pointed at the man. "See? He's already coming to!"
âOur cue to leave then,â Legend decided. Warriors nodded in agreement. Twilight stared at them both in horror.
âWe canât leave him here!â
Warriors rolled his eyes. Legend was already walking away. âHe was only unconscious for a minute or so. Heâll be fine. Besides, do you want to explain what happened to Time?â
Taking the look on Twilightâs face as agreement, Warriors nodded and started walking after Legend. Twilight lingered. He couldnât help himself. The manâs pained face was forming what was going to be a horrific bruise later. He never would have expected that from Warriorsâs skinny arm. He struck as quick as a snake. Twilight hadnât even realized what was happening before the man was on the ground. He hesitated until the manâs eyes began to flutter.Â
His fear of explaining this to Time won. He took one last look at the man and jogged after Warriors and Legend.
â-- wonât remember the hit,â Warriors said to Legend. âWith head woundsâŚâ
Twilight wasnât sure what was more disturbing: Warriorsâs knowledge of head injuries and their effects or how focused Legend was on Warriorsâs explanation. Or maybe the ease with which the pair left the man on the ground.Â
He felt guilty, too, with how he didnât fight harder to check on the man. He didnât have Warriorsâs knowledge, but he knew some first aid and he had a potion on him at Warriorsâs insistence. The only thing worse, though, than needing to explain to Time that Warriors hit the man was explaining why Warriors hit the man. He thought about how scornful the man was about Wind and grimaced. He guessed he should be grateful that Warriors used his fist and nothing else.
âYa sure he wonât remember?â Twilight asked.
Warriors grinned at him. He looked almost as wolfish as Wolfie. âIf I didnât knock the words out of the manâs head the first time, I wouldnât mind doing it again.â
Twilight hoped for everyoneâs sake that the man forgot he had ever met them at all.
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On the morning of October 7th
Gaza woke up to the sound of bombings and explosions, as if the sky had opened to rain fire that would never stop. In a small neighborhood filled with simple dreams, lived Ahmed, a hardworking man trying to provide for his family, his loving and patient wife Rasha, their one-year-old daughter Mariam, and their newborn baby Suleiman, just a month old. đ đ
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As the bombings intensified and houses collapsed around them, Ahmed realized their home, the place where they built their memories, was no longer safe. In a moment of panic, he grabbed his two childrenâMariam, who clung to him crying, and baby Suleiman, too small to understand the chaos. Rasha, her hands trembling, tried to pack whatever she couldâdiapers, a milk bottle, and some warm clothes. Everything happened so fast, as if they were racing against death itself. đââď¸đŠâđź
They fled south, where they were told there might be temporary safety. But the journey was a nightmare. Ahmed walked with a heavy heart, every step feeling like a piece of his soul was being torn away. đ Mariam sobbed in fear and hunger, while Suleiman whimpered weakly in his arms. Rasha followed closely, carrying a small bag, her eyes filled with tears, terrified of losing everything.
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After hours of walking, they arrived at what was described as a "safe place." It was nothing more than an open field crowded with families who had also lost their homes. They found shelter under a tree đł, feeling like their world had collapsed. With only a thin blanket to protect them from the cold, Mariam fell asleep in her mother's arms, while Suleiman cried out of hungerâthere was no more milk left. đźâ
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Ahmed sat at a distance, staring at his family with helplessness. He remembered his small shop, the place where he worked every day, and how Mariam used to run to greet him with a smile when he came home. Now, he had nothing leftâno home, no job, not even hope. đ
Rasha, despite her pain, tried to stay strong. But every night, she cried silently as she looked at her two children, wondering how she would feed them or keep them safe. The days dragged on, each one heavier than the last, bringing more despair with it.
One day, Ahmed received news that the shop where he worked had been completely destroyed. It felt like another knife had pierced his heart. He didnât know how he could start over again or rebuild his life in a world shattered by war. đď¸đ
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As time passed, all they had left were memories. Memories of their small home that once held them together, Mariamâs first laughter, and the sweet scent of newborn Suleiman. These memories became their only treasure as they faced an uncertain future.đđ
The war had stolen everything from them, but it couldnât steal their love for one another. â¤ď¸ Every night, Ahmed would tell Rasha, âWe will rebuild everything one day. Not just for us, but for Mariam and Suleiman. They are our only hope.â
But even that hope seemed like a distant mirage, a glimmer of light in a desert of pain. â¨
Amidst this suffering, we need your support, whether through donations or by sharing this message to reach as many people as possible who can help.
Every contribution, no matter how small, helps make this hope a tangible reality.
Even with just a 5⏠contribution, you can help build hope for a family in desperate need.
Letâs work together to ease the pain and light the way for those who need it. Share, donate, and be part of this change.
Please help my familyđđťđĽşđĽş
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#gofundme#gaza genocide#gaza strip#gazaunderattack#save gaza#palestine news#free gaza#support palestine#gaza#palestine genocide#free palestine#palestinian genocide#i stand with palestine#palestine#save palestine#all eyes on palestine#palestine fundraiser#gaza fundraiser#gaza aid#send help#gaza gfm#palestine gfm#gf mabel#vetted#palestine aid#artists on tumblr#halloween#christmas#happy new year#happy halloween
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Alright, the big bro Oreshi and baby Bokushi fanart I said I was gonna make is here. Told y'all it would be cute. Bonus art under the cut!
Baby Boku finally got his turn. Fate would have it that he was very enthralled by the concept of the bubble pipe.
I enjoy making these two unlock their inner child through spending time with each other. Expect more of The Pookies⢠in future art because I love drawing them together. đ¤
[Art related to my fic, Accidental Siblings.]
#i didnt think i had it in me to finish this as quickly as i did but ya girl prevailed#i was possessed by the spirit of productivity#went to bed late two nights in a row just to finish the initial sketch and then the final line art#and the bonus art i started and finished today#but it was all worth it imo#once again i say that this is recompense for akashi losing on the twitter popularity poll#needed something to balance out the loss so i decided that i should draw these two being cute#it was japeneselunchtimerush that suggested i draw them playing with bubbles tho#aura you a real one đŤĄ#hope this helps ease the pain for you too#kuroko no basket#knb fanart#my art#knb fanfic#accidental siblings#AS gallery#big bro oreshi#baby bokushi
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im having a particularly terrible night with urges and imagery that i dont know how to handle. i gave in to some things. held back on some others. but im barely holding on, dear internet stranger.
you do not owe me your time or your words.. but if you could write some hope into existence for me.. i would be unendingly grateful to you.
please. tell me how you do it. tell me how you survive. because im not so sure i can get through the fifteen days it'll take to get to my seventeenth birthday.
could you please give me something to place my faith in? i dont think the universe is watching out for me anymore.
i don't usually answer these, because i am not a professional, and you deserve professional help. when i was 17 i was terrified of the idea of professional help, because my household was extremely unsafe, and made it clear that if i ever chose to get help, i would be punished for it.
i hope this is not your case. i hope that you can call someone, and they can take you where you should go.
but i will give you the advice that i wish i got, when i couldn't get help at 17, when i was so bad that years later, i literally don't-know-how-i-survived it: what you want is peace, not death. your brain is sick. it has romanticized an ending where there are no consequences. where effort isn't necessary. where you can just... forget.
you want peace. that is a normal, human thing to want. maybe it feels more like you want quiet. or just... to take a break for a second.
here is what i will say: to end yourself means you never get to experience what it's like to actually be happy. i thought i knew what it was like, and i was bitter about it. i'd say - i've been happy, it's not worth it, because i didn't know what i was missing. i thought that happiness meant having a partner or having a job or money or a college degree. it sounded like effort. it sounded like something that had to happen to me.
for the first time in my life, just this week, i was able to go to a concert and just-enjoy-it. no liquor, no drugs. just stomping my feet and getting caught up in it. i didn't feel nervous or self-conscious or overwhelmed. i just had a good time. these days have a lot of these firsts for me - it is the first time i can eat cake without crying. it is the first time i can be around an exacto blade without supervision. it is the first time i have too many people to call when i am crying.
i can't tell you where you'll run into happiness, only that, for me, it started once i was out of that fucking house. it started once i figured out where the pain was coming from. once i figured out that i was not possessed, something medical was wrong with me. that i am not stupid or lazy, i have depression and adhd. the first few years were difficult. at 19, during my efforts to recover, i actually got worse by a considerable margin. and then, with time and patience - i got better.
happiness doesn't feel like what you think it will. in movies it's so golden and all-encompassing. but it doesn't fly into your hands when you buy your first car nor does it arrive in the arms of a partner nor does it require passing your classes. happiness came to me on a tuesday in the form of a red-winged blackbird, and i looked at her, and she looked at me, and i said - oh. the whole world suddenly filled itself in with color. like i had been forever-asleep. like every corner of every room was suddenly glistening.
it ended quickly, back then. it just stopped in to check in on me. but it was enough - this thing i had never experienced, but that i knew (logically) could happen. before that, i was only staying because it would make my mom sad if i died. that was my only reason. and then the happiness came, so strange and brilliant and lovely that for years i couldn't even look at it directly.
these days, things are so different. life is so much easier. i don't wish for death because so much of what i have is already at peace. my boss understands when i need a mental health day. people in general are less prone to high school drama. entire communities hold my hand and have my number. i have a car and a dog and a little apartment garden and candles on all available surfaces and today i bought myself a little cake just-to-celebrate-nothing. my body is my own and we are both dancing.
there are so many things i've gotten to taste in the last 10 years. i know, for you, that is an eon, because it's more than half of your life. but if it helps? in the 5 years between 17-21: i filled myself with laughter and love. i got to be a lead in a ballet and got my first tattoo and then my second and pierced my ears the way i'd wanted to (one of them professionally the other over a hot stove with a potato) and i discovered hozier is my favorite singer (i know. he was new back then) and i got my first real job and my first real paycheck and i hadn't ever been seen as smart but then i started to actually treat my adhd as a condition rather than a burden and people started saying you're like the smartest person in the room and my best friend met her husband who i will one day stand next to as maid of honor when he is her groom and i got to help people and make a stupid blog called "inkskinned" and find out that writing is actually my passion and that maybe i'm actually kind of good at it if i just practice and i got to meet my parents' dog (his name is kaiju) and i slept on couches and kissed people and tried new things and learned how to breathe without feeling my chest tighten and that peace is here, on this planet, that peace echoes everywhere, it is in my hair and my homework and my houseplants, it is quiet and divine and mine because i fought for it and i built it and yes i lost hair over it but holy shit the whole world feels like it is shifted through a sunbeam
recently someone asked me if i could go back in time to 6th grade, with all the knowledge i have now, would i? and without thinking, i barked absolutely not. i know i should say it's because i wouldn't want to risk losing any of this stuff - but really it's because i would never survive being a teenager again. it sounds incredibly lame and impossible, fake - but being a teenager was the hardest thing i ever did. i had no voice, no control, only fear and hatred.
but i did survive it. nothing about me is special. nothing about me is stronger than you or better prepared or more efficient. i didn't survive it perfectly. i made a lot of mistakes and lost a lot of friends and harmed myself in ways that i'm still recovering from. but i did survive it. and there is a part of me looking at you in the past and saying - i'm you in the future.
and holy shit. every day. every goddamn day i'm glad we survived to see the rest of it. because you hit 18 and everything changes. like, everything. and holy shit, it is infinitely worth it.
#i hope you are okay#i wish i could help more#i hope the pain eases soon#and i hope that you stay#ps . to those of you reading this thinking i should help you too: please just dm me#it makes me really#really really scared when it's anonymous#bc i cant check in with u#i am not a professional and i am not actually good at helping ppl through their troubles#this is an exception bc they are 16#not the rule#ps if u misunderstand ''being a teenager is the hardest thing i ever did'' when i mention briefly that i was in unsafe housing...#trust me. it was worse there. by like A HUGE margin#every person raised in unsafe housing nodding their head like . oh yeah worse stuff TECHNICALLY happened after but leaving that home was#legit the hardest thing i ever did
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 31: Forced Proximity
Summary: John and Kyle are gone. You have no choice but to lean on the alpha you've betrayed, the alpha that hates you.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 11,071 words
Warnings: ANGST, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, anxiety, reader has a panic attack and several breakdowns, Simon being mean, ANGST, depression, lots of mentions of vomiting and the reader does get sick quite a bit though it's not descriptive in any way, ANGST, heat cycles, pseudoscience, medical stuff (that's probably very wrong), brief mention of needles, medical procedures (nothing very detailed), ANGST, very heavy emotionally again, some very light fluff like barely there but nothing compared to the ANGST
A/N: I did it. I finally got it up. It's uh...it's a heavy one again, I'll tell you that much. You'll hate me even more but oh well. I expected that through this part of the story. I'm so evil I know.
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âI don't like this. It's too...â
âConvenient?â
âSuspicious.â
âI know. But we don't have much of a choice in this.â John says, staring at Simon and Johnny. âYou keep your eyes on her at all times. Stay in the barracks when you can. If you have to leave the barracks together, she goes with you.â
âWe won't let her out of our sight.â Simon says. âIf anything happens, Kate will be the first to know.â
âGood.â John says. He trusts the two of them to look after you. Yet he can't deny the timing of this is a bit suspicious. âWe'll be back as soon as we can. Take good care of our girl.â
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Two weeks.Â
Itâs been two weeks since John and Kyle left.Â
Despite the fact itâs not the longest someone has been gone, it doesnât ease the ache in your chest, the pain slowly carving its way into your very soul. You havenât spoken to them. Thereâs been no word. Nothing. It could be a good thing. Sometimes no news is good news, and you suppose itâs better than a phone call saying theyâve died in some horrible accident.Â
You keep waiting for that phone call.Â
Every time Johnny or Simonâs phone rings, you begin to panic, fear eating away at that hole in your chest. Itâs bad news, itâs Kate calling to tell them your alpha and beta arenât coming home.Â
Youâve hardly been able to relax, tense and jumpy at the littlest things. Being enclosed in the barracks at all times isnât helping. You havenât left once, not even to the med center. Dr. Keller has been coming to the barracks, more than she normally would for your appointments. You wonder if it was Johnnyâs doing to try and help you relax, or Simonâs doing in hope you stop stinking up the barracks with the sour scent of nerves and fear.Â
Simon has been distant still, avoiding you as much as he can. Itâs impossible to avoid you completely, though, as Johnny canât watch you 24/7. Itâs a bit claustrophobic, the way they hover, always keeping one eye on you. Itâs been a bit suffocating for the last three weeks, but with John and Kyle gone...itâs almost worse.Â
Johnny has tried to fill that void, tried to support you in any way he can, but it hasnât worked. You know itâs Johnny, you love Johnny, yet not even he can fill the void that has become your life without your alpha.Â
You hate it.Â
You hate their job, you hate that it takes them from you. You hate the uncertainty, the constant fear and worry that makes you sick. You hate that itâs dragged you into it. You know they were digging for the perpetrator of the cameras, who put them up, who ordered them to be put up, who potentially wanted to look into your personal life in such a violating way. The sudden deployment feels too suspicious, too sudden to be coincidence.Â
But as John says, entertaining conspiracies wonât get you anywhere.Â
Still...it smells fishy to you.Â
The hole in your chest has left you in a constant state of uneasiness which has left you on the verge of tears constantly. Every day that passes without word of a tragedy or that theyâre coming home makes your stomach churn, tears constantly brimming in your eyes. Johnâs shirt is constantly in your grasp, a dirty one youâd fished out of the bottom of his laundry basket, soaked in his scent. Itâs beginning to fade, slowly eroding away until there wonât be anything left. Then youâll grab another and another until you have none left. His room still smells like him, his pillows still fresh with his scent.Â
You know it will fade, though, and fade fast.Â
Youâve been avoiding spending too much time in his room and Kyleâs in favor of keeping their scents in there as long as possible. The fading of their scents is like an omen, marking a fading of their presence in your life, of the bond between you. The constant fear that youâll forget them, what they sound like, what they smell like, what they look like.Â
It makes you physically ill.Â
That painful churning in your stomach is back as you sit on the couch in the rec room, curled up as far from Simon as you can get. Simon is still angry at you, at your betrayal of his trust. So much progress down the drain because you proved youâre not trustworthy after he trusted you enough to begin opening up. You still hate yourself for it, for keeping the secret for that long. Even a month would have been better and would have had less consequences for everyone. Maybe then you might have caught the camera in the bear sooner, and not been so violated during some of your most private moments.Â
Some of those moments with Simon.Â
How violated does he feel, having such vulnerable moments between you recorded and viewed by someone out there? You canât help but think back to that night when he came back, and the morning after. Someone watched you. The bear had been right there, those black beady eyes staring right at the two of you. How many times had you fucked the others in your bed, the bear sitting there, watching, projecting those moments to whoever was on the other side.Â
Your heat.Â
The bear hadnât been looking then, but it had been listening. It knows what happened, every last detail, every slam of the bed against the wall, every knot.Â
It makes you sick.Â
Your stomach churns, your arms wrapping around your middle as you let out a shaky breath. Youâre going to puke again, the bile rising in your throat. The intense tingling in your hands is starting again, your fingers curling in as your extremities begin to go numb. Youâre panicking again.Â
Instead of vomit, a choked sob leaves your lips, your tears hot and burning on your cheeks, stinging like theyâre composed of acid.Â
Simon glances up from his phone, his face the mask of indifference that it has been for three weeks. A mask that he had worn for the first few months after your arrival. âWhat?â He asks, his tone flat and voice rough.Â
You canât answer him, too busy hyperventilating and sobbing where you sit. You canât even think if you wanted to, your body aching as your muscles begin to tighten. You canât distress. Youâve been fighting the urge since the day the truth came out.Â
You canât trust Simon to help you.Â
Youâre not even sure he knows how to.Â
Of course, it would be easy to call Dr. Keller, get her to help him, but youâre not sure heâd want to. Could he be so angry and betrayed heâd just stand there and watch you distress yourself to death?Â
He wouldnât. Heâd have to explain himself to John, why he let it happen. It would tear the pack apart. It would tear them apart. You wouldnât put it past John to try and rip Simonâs throat out with his teeth in anger. It would be a bigger betrayal than yours, and Simon wouldnât let you lose your spot at the top of that list.Â
âFuck.â Simon breathes, setting his phone down before moving in front of you. He lowers himself onto one knee, reaching for your arms. If you had been more aware you might have flinched away, but the lack of oxygen to your brain is making everything fuzzy.Â
Simon grips your elbows, tugging you forward gently. Your legs are forced off the edge of the couch, your body upright as Simon holds your arms in his grasp, your legs between his as he kneels in front of you. You stare down at him, the sudden change in position shocking you for a moment. You choke around another sob, eyes blurry as you try to look at him.Â
âI need you to breathe.â He says, squeezing your arms gently.Â
You canât.Â
Your breaths are sobs, wracking your body, tearing at your lungs. Your chest hurts, aching and burning as you quickly begin spiraling out of control.Â
âLook at me.â He says, shifting his hold to your wrists, taking them into one hand before he grabs your chin with the other. He keeps your head still, locked on his face. His eyes are blurry to your own teary ones as you look right at him, looking through the mass of blurry black that surrounds him. âBreathe.â He says, his voice rougher than normal, rumbling with the command of his alpha around the edges.Â
It goes straight to your head, a shiver running down your spine. Your body shudders in response, your next sob catching painfully in your throat. You cough, lungs spasming as your body suddenly begins to follow his order automatically. Simon lets you go as you attempt to gain control over your out of control body. One part of your brain is still panicking, still pushing towards distress while the other fights to follow the alphaâs command. Itâs a battle, your instincts at war with each other.Â
The next inhale is a gasp, inhaling until your breath stutters and your lungs ache. You let it out slowly, the flood of oxygen making you shake in Simonâs hold. He keeps his hand around your wrists until your inhales stop stuttering and your muscles start to relax.Â
He slowly releases you, pushing himself up to sit on the coffee table. Youâre surprised it can hold so much weight after itâs been sat on so many times. Not even a creak as Simon lowers himself onto it.Â
He rests his elbows on his knees as he stares at you. His figure begins to get clearer as your tears slow, no longer blurring your vision. You're expecting the sharp sting of his harsh gaze, or worse the indifference you've grown used to over the last three weeks.Â
Instead there's a soft look in his eyes. Not soft as you would describe Johnny's, but soft compared to what it has been. Pity, you think.Â
âYou're a fucking mess.â He finally says.Â
You laugh. You can't help it. The deadpan delivery of such a him statement in response to everything has a laugh escaping your lips. You wipe your eyes, sniffling. He hates it, hearing your sniffles. It annoys him when you cry, it always has.Â
You push yourself back onto the couch, pulling your knees up again as you stare at him. There's a slight tremble to your fingers still as you sit there in silence for a moment.Â
âI'm sorry.â You say, still looking at him. âIf I had just said something sooner...â You swallow thickly as you stumble over your words. âNone of us would have...the camera would have been found sooner...we wouldn't have...both of us...â
âYou shouldn't apologize if you don't even know what to say.â He says, the softness in his gaze hardening again.Â
âIt's not that it's just...â You take a breath, trying to straighten out your thoughts. âI feel so guilty. This is all my fault and if I had just said something sooner, none of this would have happened. What happens next is my fault too. I know you and John have been digging into who is behind it and I know how risky that is. They know that we all know now, and...I'm scared of what might happen.â
You let out a long breath at your confession and attempt at an apology, squeezing your fingers together as they begin to tremble even more. You want to look away, his gaze piercing into you again. You're reminded of the moment the words had fallen from your lips that had caused this in the first place. Your heart begins thumping in your chest, your breathing picking up slightly at the memory. Will he get angry again? Will he snap at you and drag you down the hall to lock you in your room until John and Kyle get back, or Johnny calms him enough to rescue you?
âI feel so violated.â Your voice shakes. âI can't even imagine what it's been like for you. It took us so long to get to that point and...â You swallow the bile trying to rise in your throat. âI'm so sorry.â Tears blur your vision again. âI didn't know...I didn't think...I was so stupid.â
He scoffs. âYou are.â His words are sharp, and they sting as they slice through you. âFucking stupid, I'd say.â You wince at his words. âBut youâre inexperienced. You donât think about things like we do. No matter how much everyone has tried to drill it into your head, youâll never truly understand until you experience it yourself.â He holds your gaze for a moment. âI hope you never have to.âÂ
You stare at him, the meaning of his words not lost on you. Youâve put yourself in danger, youâve put all of them in danger by keeping this all a secret. Whoever put those cameras up knew you were keeping it a secret and hadnât done anything in retaliation against you for finding them and destroying them. Maybe that was their plan all along. They knew youâd keep it a secret and use that to their advantage. Strike when they least expected it, or perhaps wait for the moment the truth inevitably came out and then strike.Â
The thought has a cold chill running down your spine.Â
Youâre afraid for a different reason now.Â
John and Kyle are gone. Anything could happen to them and it wouldnât look suspicious. Or whoever put those cameras up wanted everyone split up. Attack when thereâs less knights defending the castle.Â
A shiver runs through you, making you curl in on yourself. The feeling of being watched is back. The darkness peeking out from around the blinds over the rec room windows suddenly feels very threatening.Â
âWhatâs goinâ on in here?âÂ
A startled yelp leaves your lips as you whip around to face Johnny where heâs leaning against the door to the rec room. Simonâs body tenses in response to your fearful yelp, an unconscious motion he has no control over. Alphas will always have the drive to protect the omegas in their pack. Itâs a natural protective mechanism, no matter how they may be feeling about said omega.Â
Simonâs body relaxes as you do, putting a hand over your heart to try and calm yourself down again.Â
âJumpy this eveninâ.â Johnny says, entering the rec room. He steps up to the couch, bending down to rest his hands on the arm next to you. âDidnae mean to scare ye.â He says softly. âReady tae get to bed?âÂ
You nod. âYeah. I am.âÂ
âCome on.â He holds out his hand and you take it, letting him help you up off the couch. âWeâre usinâ yer shower, Si.â He says.Â
Simon rolls his eyes. âCourse.âÂ
âSimon?â You say before Johnny can pull you from the rec room. The alpha turns to look at you. âI am sorry.âÂ
He stares at you for a long, tense moment. âI know.âÂ
Johnny leads you down the hallway, his hand on your lower back. Heâs gotten touchy again, letting his hand rest lower and lower on your back, brushing your breasts as he pulls the covers up around you at night. He refuses to let you shower without sitting on the toilet lid. You know the chances of Simon opening up like that again are slim, if at all. Youâve ruined that opportunity, and youâll have to be satisfied with where he draws that line permanently.Â
âHave a good conversation?â Johnny asks.Â
You nod. âHe called me âfucking stupidâ.âÂ
Johnny nearly chokes for a second, covering his mouth to hide a laugh. âHeâs certainly not a man of eloquence.âÂ
You shrug. âI mean, I donât exactly disagree with him.âÂ
Johnny leads you into Simonâs room, steering you to the bathroom. Your stuff is already inside from the unanimous decision to solely use Simonâs bathroom for ease and also safety.Â
Your towel is neatly on the rack next to Simonâs and Johnnyâs, all folded the same way and hung evenly apart. Your soap and shampoo are neatly placed next to his, along with your toothbrush and other products on the sink. Always so neat and organized, despite his anger at you.Â
Canât break his system even after you break his trust.Â
You pull your shirt over your head after starting the water, letting it get warm. Johnny stands behind you in the doorway, and you know heâs watching. You strip your shorts and underwear off, Johnny grunting quietly as you bend over to add them to your pile of dirty clothes. Youâve been tempted to leave them on the floor for the past two weeks just to peeve, but youâve riled Simon up enough. With your luck heâd just toss them in the trash.Â
The water is hot as it pelts your skin, your shoulders relaxing as it begins to loosen the stress of the day. The emptiness in your chest continues to eat away at you, never disappearing despite what happens. Your stomach churns, the nausea returning. You stand under the spray, letting the water pour over your head as you attempt to calm the continuous twisting in your abdomen.Â
The shower door slides open, another body joining you before it slides closed. Warm skin presses against your back as arms slip around you, pulling you out from directly under the spray. You rest back against Johnnyâs chest as he leans his cheek against the top of your head.Â
âI miss them.â You say quietly, just audible over the shower.Â
âI know.â Johnny says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.Â
âWhen will they be back?â You ask him, even though you know he canât tell you.Â
âHard tae say.â He says, grabbing your strawberry scented soap from next to Simonâs. Heâs just been using Simonâs soap, something you probably assume he does often anyway. âKate will update us as soon as thereâs a possible ETA.âÂ
âI donât know how much longer I can take.â You say as he begins to wash your back.Â
âI know.â He says, gently massaging the knots in your back, trying to help you relax. âI wish I could get them home faster. I wish it had been us instead of them for your sake.âÂ
His words make you feel guilty, but you both know itâs not anyoneâs fault. John is your alpha, you belong to him, you were claimed by him. Youâll always hurt more about your alpha and betaâs absence than the other members of your pack can comfort you. If Simon had claimed you, things would have been different. The ache in your chest would have been less intense as you would still have an alpha you could lean on.Â
Youâd always miss John, but if you had Simon, the black hole slowly devouring you would have slowed its progress.Â
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Four weeks.Â
A month.Â
It's been a month since John and Kyle left. The familiar hole in your chest has widened, a gaping black hole now threatening to swallow you and string you out until youâre nothing but particles lost in its center. Itâs worse than the hole Simon left when he went on his solo deployment, itâs worse than the hole they all left when they went on their first mission. Neither of those previous deployments lasted this long, and despite Johnny's attempts to console you, you donât feel any better.Â
Thereâs been no contact.Â
A month with no contact, a month with no word. You'd know if something had happened. Even if you got no word on it, you would know. That sense that omegas have when something happens to the bond would be screaming.Â
It's been a rough four weeks.
Thereâs a heaviness thatâs started to permeate the air as you try to adjust to the prolonged absence of your alpha. Itâs nearly every day that youâre breaking down now, standing in Johnâs room to catch any whiff of him thatâs left. Youâve worn the scent off his bed, his pillows, his clothes. Youâve run out of shirts that smell like him.Â
Youâre terrified they might fade from your memory entirely. Kyleâs scent had disappeared quicker, fading fast until you were left unable to even picture the sea. The beach is a blurry, distant memory, the smell of the salty air faded and wiped away.Â
Still you cling to their shirts, as if you can hold them through the fabric. You carry them everywhere, packing them from room to room as you float around in a daze.Â
Youâve left the barracks once in four weeks for a training session that neither of them could miss. Youâd gotten looks as you sat there, the sole audience member, but you're not quite sure what had happened or even what the training was far. You had been far away, lost in your own head, the haze of depression and grief numbing you to everything.Â
Dr. Keller continues to visit you in the barracks, still more than you normally would see her. You miss her office, the soft warmth of it, the plants and the colors lacking from the sterilized prison that is the barracks. It has become like a prison. Youâre trapped inside, unable to even wander around alone. You feel like the princess locked in her tower under the watchful eye of the guards keeping her trapped inside. You need someone to come and rescue you, someone to set you free so you can at least wander the tower alone.Â
You want your alpha.Â
You miss John and Kyle desperately, their absence chewing away at your insides. The hole in your chest continues to widen as the days pass, consuming more and more of you as you slip deeper and deeper into the black hole of depression. Johnny is being affected too, sucked in by the gravitational pull of the black hole you have become. Even Simon is starting to feel it, softening a bit more towards you. Heâd even let your hands brush a couple of times when heâs escorted you places, and he didnât yank them away like you might pass some disease onto him.Â
You wouldnât necessarily call him affectionate, even before all of this, but this is the first glimpse youâve gotten of him being back to where the two of you were before you fucked everything up. You know itâs not going to happen overnight. It might never get back to what it was. He might simply be acting out of sympathy, and out of necessity because of your pain and grief being channeled through the pack bonds. Sometimes you wonder if John and Kyle can feel it too from wherever they are in the world.Â
You miss them so much it hurts.Â
The tears slip down your cheeks as you sit on the couch in the rec room. Johnny is off taking his turn to work out. Itâs early, the sky still grey outside, the perfect epitome of how you feel inside. Simon is seated in his usual spot, book in hand. Your own that he had grabbed is still on the coffee table. Youâre staring at it, tears gliding down your cheeks as you hold your knees against your chest. Itâs become almost a normal occurrence, the tears, the blank staring, the lack of desire to do anything, even the position youâre seated in.
Simon glances up at you as you sniffle again, lowering his book slightly. âWhat?â His tone isn't annoyed per se, but you know he has to be tired of your constant blubbering.Â
âTell me theyâll be alright.â You say, your voice shaking.Â
âYou know I canât-â He starts, but you cut him off.Â
âI need you to tell me.â You sob, your gaze lifting to the black screen of the TV. âI canât take it. I canât do this.âÂ
He lets out a sigh, closing his book. You jump as the couch sinks down on your left, Simon taking a seat next to you. The flinch is subconscious as he reaches over to grip your chin and turn your face to look at him. Your tears slide down your cheeks, wetting his fingers.Â
âTheyâll be alright.â He says, eyes hard as he looks at you. Heâs lying but you need to hear it. âTheyâve been gone for far longer than this before. Trust Price knows what heâs doing. Heâs going to do everything in his power to come back. Weâll know if something happens. Laswell will let us know.âÂ
You know that, you know all of it. Yet it does little to calm the pain in your chest. âI miss them.â You sob, Simonâs eyes softening as you continue to cry. âMy stomach hurts.âÂ
Youâve been nauseous since the day the truth came out almost five weeks ago. The nausea has been churning in your stomach, making you constantly on the edge of vomiting. Itâs the stress, the combination of the truth coming out and your alpha being gone. Youâve been choking food down, eating only out of necessity.Â
Simon lets out a sigh, releasing your chin to wrap an arm around you. His other hand drops to rest on your stomach. Itâs warm through the fabric of your shirt, applying gentle pressure. He smells like alpha, different from John, but still an alpha. The tears continue to fall as he holds you, your body slowly leaning closer and closer to him. He doesnât complain, doesnât even try to push you away as you fall against his side.Â
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Your stomach is churning, gnawing. Itâs not an unusual feeling. Itâs felt this way for the last few weeks. Itâs never woken you up before, though. You blink in the darkness of Johnnyâs room, his arm still thrown over you. The gnawing continues to intensify as you continue to be pulled from your semi-peaceful sleep, becoming more and more aware.Â
Youâre hungry.Â
You slowly unravel yourself from Johnnyâs snake-like hold, ready to slip into the rec room to peruse your snack stash. Instead youâre pulled back onto the bed by the arm that slips around your waist.Â
âWhere ye goinâ?â Johnny rasps, still half asleep.Â
âIâm hungry.â You whisper.Â
He lets out a groan, letting go of you to rub a hand over his face. âGive me a minute.âÂ
You rise from the bed as he stretches, slowly sitting up as he draws himself from sleep. Itâs just past one in the morning, neither of you having been asleep for long. You feel wide awake as the gnawing in your stomach continues to intensify. You rock back and forth on your feet, debating just going and letting him catch up. Itâll force him to wake up faster, and ease the gnawing hunger threatening to turn you inside out.Â
Finally Johnny rises from the bed, stretching again as you impatiently open the door. He pads behind you to the rec room, watching as you dig out a bag of chips. He leans against the back of the couch as you stand there, devouring the chips like you havenât eaten in days. You havenât really eaten much in the last five weeks, so perhaps itâs finally catching up to you. You finish the bag but itâs not enough, so you grab another, devouring it halfway before you freeze. The bag begins to tremble in your hand, nearly falling from your grasp.Â
Johnny is alert immediately as you begin to panic. âWhat?â He asks stepping closer to you, ready to defend you from whatever has you on edge.Â
Your brain frantically does the math, thinking over the last few weeks. The bag falls to the floor as the realization slams into you like a bus. You turn to face Johnny, eyes wide in shock, fear shooting through you like lightning and clouding the rec room in the sour stench of omega fear.
Your lips tremble, the words stuttering out as you fight the panic rising in you, the nauseous churning of your stomach threatening to bring up the bag and a half of chips you just ate. Your fingers are shaking, clenching into fists again as they begin to go numb. Ragged breaths wheeze from your lungs as you stare at Johnnyâs worried face, brows furrowed as he tries to understand what has you in a sudden panic at one in the morning.Â
âMy last heat was eleven weeks ago.âÂ
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âThe timeline is right,â Dr. Keller says, taking the blood pressure cuff off your arm. âThe symptoms point to pre-heat.âÂ
You take another bite of your candy bar, eating half out of necessity and half because youâre nervous. You hadnât even considered this when John left, but of course you didnât know how long he would be gone.Â
âAny word from John yet?â Dr. Keller asks as she packs the blood pressure monitor back into her bag.Â
âNone.â Johnny says, crossing his arms. âKate sent out a message, but thereâs been no response.âÂ
Youâre numb to that fact, the hope that had filled you two days ago gone now that thereâs been no word, not even for something like this. Simon had gone out of his way to call you when you needed him, but John canât even send a simple message through, even a simple no.Â
âWe may have to consider alternative options if he canât get back in time.â Dr. Keller says.Â
He wonât get back in time. Theyâre all saying it silently. They all know it and so do you.
Your hands close into fists. You had hoped with your new pack and alpha you wouldnât have to go through this again. But, of course with them having to put their job first, this was always a possibility. It was bound to happen eventually, you just hoped it wouldnât be so soon.Â
âWeâll wait as long as we can.â Dr. Keller says, looking at you. âWe donât have forever, though.âÂ
You shove the rest of the candybar in your mouth. You donât want to say anything, you donât want to do anything. Youâre numb except for the incessant hunger. Youâll know when itâs getting close, when the hunger fades and youâre facing down the reality that your alpha wonât be here. You know he wonât. Even if Kate can get ahold of him, he wonât make it back in time.Â
Youâre going to have to do this alone.Â
Well...perhaps not.Â
Maybe there is someone that can help you after all.Â
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Youâre terrified. Youâre not sure how to even approach this, how to bring it up. Itâs eating you alive, but you have to ask. You have to know. That small bubble of hope still rising in you that maybe, just maybe you can avoid the horror awaiting you. Itâs a big request, but perhaps you can be convincing enough to play to his pity.Â
âSimon?â You ask, your hands curled into fists so theyâre not visibly shaking. Your hair is dripping onto your shirt, soaking it but you donât care. The cold is keeping you aware, keeping you from floating away into your head again.Â
He grunts, looking up from his phone. Youâd used the shower in his room again so he could watch you while Johnny took his own shower. You wonât sleep in here. Youâll stay with Johnny just like you have for the last almost five weeks. Itâs safer, should your heat start in the middle of the night again. And also because he doesnât want you to stay with him.
This is stupid. Itâs a stupid decision but you need to know.Â
What if he says yes? Â
âCan I...ask you something?â You say, shifting nervously on your feet.Â
He pockets his phone before pushing himself up to stand. He towers over you as he moves closer, staring down at you as you look up at him. Sometimes you forget just how big he is, just how commanding his presence can be. You fight the urge to cower, to submit to him in fear. âWhat?âÂ
The nervous lump in your throat threatens to choke you, the memories of his anger directed right at you burning right through you. What if he gets mad again? What if he reacts the same way? You canât know what he will do, though. You steady yourself, wrapping the fabric of your shirt around your hands.Â
âWill...â You clear your throat. âWill you help me through my heat?âÂ
Itâs a big request. A huge request. Youâre asking him to jump past barriers heâd kept up even before, something heâd never even suggested or hinted at wanting to do even before your last heat. Youâre asking him to jump past barriers heâs put back up since your betrayal, making it clear youâre not welcome back in, youâre not going to get to where you were before. The most heâs done is let you lean against him that one night in the rec room.Â
You hope maybe heâll agree out of necessity, maybe heâll take pity on you and save you from the horrors of going through a heat without an alpha. It may be stupid, but youâre terrified of whatâs awaiting you if he doesnât agree. You donât want to do it, you donât want to be put to sleep and then wake up a week later sick and disoriented, and then spend the next few days still in the same state.Â
It makes your stomach churn, and not from hunger.Â
His eyes widen in shock as your words register. His hands tighten into fists at his sides, his shoulders tensing. You fight the urge to flinch at the movement, the sudden hardening of his stance before you. He wasnât expecting it, obviously. You came out of left field with it, but you have to ask. Youâll beg if you need to. Youâll get on your knees and beg like your life depends on it if he wants you to. Anything just to avoid whatâs looming in the near future.Â
His eyes harden as he stares down at you, and you suddenly begin to regret your decision to ask. His gaze is piercing, taking you back to when you confessed. Youâve made a mistake. Youâve made a huge mistake.Â
âNo.âÂ
The word is simple, two letters, one syllable, yet it slices right through you. You should have expected it, should have known that would be your answer, but it still hurts. He knows, he knows John isnât coming back in time. He knows youâre going to have to do this alone. You had hoped maybe pity would push him into saying yes, maybe heâd open up a bit more before your heat started, maybe he might be merciful.Â
âI canât.â He takes a step back, then another. His gaze softens to what you almost perceive as panic. He shakes his head. âI canât.âÂ
So maybe it wasnât anger at you keeping him from agreeing. You can feel it, the edge to his scent starting to cloud it, the way his hands open and close as he squeezes them into fists over and over.Â
Tears burn your eyes as you stare at him, lifting your hands so theyâre laced together in front of you. You knew that would be the answer, yet you canât stop the disappointment. âOh.â That's all you can say. You donât trust yourself to say much else.Â
You swallow the lump in your throat as Johnny appears in the doorway, looking between the two of you before his eyes settle on you. He can tell something happened, something transpired between the two of you while he was gone. How much of it he heard, youâre not sure. Perhaps none at all judging by the look on his face.Â
âReady for bed?â He asks, his gaze cautious. Heâs trying to assess the situation, figure out what could have transpired to cause such a reaction between you and his alpha. Heâll never know. Not unless Simon tells him.Â
âYeah.â You breathe, scurrying out of Simonâs room before you can make more of a fool out of yourself.Â
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âH-How long will it take?â You ask, your heart thudding in your chest. Your pre-heat symptoms had stopped earlier this morning, the hunger gone, the itching beginning under your skin.Â
âAs soon as your temperature goes up, weâll get started.â Dr. Keller says, sticking electrodes to your chest. Youâve already got the blood pressure cuff around your arm and pulse monitor on your finger.Â
âYe were prepared for this.â Johnny says, sitting next to the hospital bed. Youâre in a private room, well away from any others, even though no one will know youâre in heat. There wonât be any scent projecting, no neediness, no aching. You wonât be aware at all that anything is happening as your body rapidly cycles through that sudden flood of hormones.Â
Dr. Keller nods. âThis was always a possibility, so I made sure I had everything on hand for when it did happen.â She takes your temperature again. âTell me when you start to feel warm. The last thing I want to do is send you under too late.âÂ
Your skin crawls at her words, memories flashing back to the time you were put under too late. You trust Dr. Keller to take care of you, though. Sheâs far more competent and aware than that nurse had been. Itâs her job to take care of you, to watch after you in moments like this.Â
You just wish you could talk to John before you go under.Â
You want to remember his voice when you come back out.Â
âIâll be here the whole time.â Johnny says, taking your hand, obviously sensing your discomfort.Â
Heâs brought a bag of things with him, since heâll be staying with you for the few days itâll take to get through your heat. It wonât be as long this time, your body being forced through those hormones quickly. It wonât even register it needs a knot, flying through those symptoms.Â
The wait is the worst part. It takes forever, every minute seeming to take an hour. Johnny waits dutifully by your side. You wish this wasnât the first heat he would be here for. You wish he had at least gotten some experience with a normal heat, just so this one wouldnât scare him off. Even Kyle might have been shaken by it, though, even with his experience.Â
Eventually the heat begins to prickle under your skin, your heart rate jumping. Johnny calls in Dr. Keller, looking nervous as sweat begins to bead on your forehead.Â
âItâs time.â Dr. Keller says, taking your temperature. Itâs jumped quickly, your body starting to prepare for the onslaught of hormones about to be released.Â
She turns your arm, hooking up the IV that will deliver the sedative as well as fluids to keep you hydrated. The heart monitor beeps rapidly as you grow nervous, Johnny squeezing your hand gently. You know heâs trying, and thereâs nothing more he can really do. Thereâs no stopping this. Itâs going to happen no matter what.Â
âIâm going to administer the sedative. Youâll start to feel sleepy.â Dr. Keller says. âIâll put in the feeding tube after youâre out.â
You swallow nervously, sweat starting to bead on your forehead. âItâll be okay right?âÂ
Dr. Keller gives you a soft smile âYouâll be just fine. Itâll be a few days for us, but itâll be a few seconds for you. Itâll be over before you know it.âÂ
You swallow nervously before nodding. Dr. Keller pushes the sedative through the IV, your body starting to relax as it begins to take effect. The itching under your skin stops, the heat fading as the ceiling gets further and further away as your vision tunnels. Johnny squeezing your hand is the last thing you remember before everything goes dark.Â
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Heâs seen a lot of things, done a lot of things that would make the average person violently ill. Heâs no stranger to blood and gore, yet he canât watch as Dr. Keller inserts the feeding tube into your nose. The thought of having it in his own body makes him nearly gag, his eyes closing as he breathes.Â
âIâm done.â Dr. Keller says, a small smile on her face as he turns back around.Â
âAbout gart me boak.â He says, looking at you where you appear to be sleeping peacefully. He supposes you are, blissfully unaware of anything and everything around you.
âYouâre not good with needles either, are you?â She asks, obviously noticing how he had turned away when she put in your IV.Â
âNot my favorite.â He admits.Â
âSheâs all set.â She says, stepping back. âYouâll want to move her every few hours, turn her on one side, lift her legs up. Keeps her from getting bed sores or blood clots. Iâll be next door, and Iâll check on her periodically. If anything happens at night, Iâll have my phone on full volume.âÂ
âThank ye, doctor.â He says, squeezing your hand despite the fact you canât feel it.Â
Dr. Keller takes her leave, the room going quiet aside from the beeping of the heart monitor, and the occasional buzzing of the blood pressure cuff as it tightens around your arm. He stares at you for a long moment, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest as you sleep. Itâs probably the most peaceful sleep youâve gotten in the last few weeks, despite the changes happening internally. Dr. Keller had explained it to him, the hormonal changes, how sedation works differently than going through a heat consciously. Omegas do go through heat cycles awake and aware without an alpha sometimes. Institutes cycle between isolated heats and sedation.Â
The thought of you going through both makes his stomach twist.Â
Sweat beads on your forehead as you lay there, something that will continue for the next few days, the doctor said. Your heart rate is higher than normal, another sign that youâre in your heat as your brain cycles through the sudden rush of hormones. Heâs not quite sure what to expect, not quite sure what itâll look like if something goes wrong. Heâs never done this before, and the little research heâd done doesnât feel all that helpful. Dr. Keller trusts him to know, though, and he supposes itâll be pretty obvious should something go wrong.Â
Youâre not going to be doing much aside from laying there for the next few days.Â
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The hours seem to drag on and he canât help but wonder if this is how Kyle feels during your heats. At least Kyle had a job to do, had to focus and listen for the breaks in between rounds when heâd go in, ensure nothing was wrong, nothing happened, that youâre being fed and taken care of. All he has is the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the occasional buzz and crinkling of nylon as the blood pressure cuff expands. Dr. Keller brings him meals, keeping him fed and occasionally keeps him company as he watches dutifully over you. His back is aching from the uncomfortable chair and the makeshift bed, but he can hardly complain. Heâs slept on worse.Â
Heâs sketched a lot in the silence between watching videos on his phone and napping. Itâs been a peaceful time, aside from his initial worry. You sleep away, sweat still beading on your forehead. Every so often he grabs a wet paper towel, wiping away the sweat.Â
He jumps as his alarm on his phone goes off in the silence, his pencil falling to the floor. He picks it up, setting his sketchbook to the side before he gets up. Heâs careful as he slips his arms under you, easing you over onto your side. He bends your legs, making sure youâre steady and not cutting off circulation anywhere. He runs a hand over your hair, the strands starting to slip out of the braid he had put in before your trip to the med center.Â
He moves around to the other side of the bed, pulling the tie out before undoing the braid. Heâs careful as he redoes it as best he can, making sure not to pull too tightly on the strands. The last thing you need when you wake up is to feel like your hair is being yanked out of your head.Â
He ties off the braid before moving back to his seat, staring at your peaceful face for a moment. Itâs nothing new to him, but he canât help but stare. Heâs seen you sleep many times, held you, watched you blissfully unaware of the world. The softness in your face, the worry and the stress and the weight on your shoulders of just being who you are gone.Â
He picks his sketchbook back up, going back to drawing.Â
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His stomach churns nervously. Thereâs a subtle shake to his hands, something that doesnât happen often. He likes to think heâs prepared for anything, conditioned enough to not be shaken by anything. Yet he canât help but feel unsure as Dr. Keller closes off your IV.Â
âSheâll be coming out of it soon.â Dr. Keller says. âSheâll be confused, disoriented. She might get combative. Your job is to talk to her, try to calm her and help ease her back into awareness. Sheâs a crier after heats, so I donât doubt there will be tears. She may get sick as well.â She gives him a reassuring smile. âItâll be alright. Coming out of a heat is hard, and so is coming out of sedation. Both at the same time is always a struggle.âÂ
There was a time he thought maybe sedation would be the easiest way to deal with a heat, but from what heâs hearing, he might have been wrong. Sure it might be easier in the moment to not have those week long symptoms of intense desire, the fever, the desperation. Coming out of it though? From what heâs heard so far, itâs not as easy as it sounds. Heâs been through it, coming out of sedation after an injury in the field. Itâs a confusing feeling, disorienting enough before you find out days or weeks have passed. Itâs hard to conceptualize without all those hormones going crazy in your head.Â
You start to stir, your brows pinching as you slowly begin to wake. You let out a groan, reaching for the feeding tube immediately. Dr. Keller gently pushes your hands away, nodding to Johnny. Your brows furrow deeper, a groan leaving your lips as you begin to move more and more.Â
âEasy, kitten.â He says, leaning down close to you, projecting his scent so you can hopefully get a whiff of it to help calm you. âIâve got ye. Yer alright.â He brushes your hair back from your sweaty forehead as you continue to groan. He takes your hand as you reach for the tube again, squeezing it gently.
You crack your eyes open for a moment before quickly pinching them shut. Dr. Keller reaches up, turning off the overhead light before leaning down close to you again. Sheâs projecting her natural beta scent as well to try and help calm you. âIâm going to remove the tube, I know itâs uncomfortable.âÂ
Johnny has to look away again as Dr. Keller removes the feeding tube, pressing his face into your hair as he projects his scent even more. You squeeze his hand back, the other gripping the side of the bed. You take in a harsh, gasping breath before you begin to cry, tears spilling out of your eyes as you sob. He had heard that youâre a crier after your heat from Kyle, heâs just never witnessed it before.Â
It takes him back to just a few weeks ago in Johnâs office when you had sat there crying as they interrogated you. It had made him uneasy, the stress and the fear clouding your scent. The fear heâd felt in those moments, listening to you cry and panic, nearly sending yourself into distress before John had calmed you. He might have done more, but he had been angry, angry at whoever put those cameras in your room, and slightly at you for keeping it from them for so long.Â
He canât blame it completely on you, though. That had been back in the time where you still werenât sure if you could trust them, before you fully opened yourself to them. Maybe they were slightly at fault for not making you feel like you could trust them, for not being realistic with you about the dangers. Sure you had been warned, had it drilled into your head why your safety was paramount, but maybe they had kept too much hidden from you. Maybe they had put you in more danger by trying to keep you safe.Â
Your eyes are still pinched closed as you continue to cry, sobs wracking your body as you grip his hand tightly. It tugs at his chest as he whispers quietly against your hair, trying to get you to recognize him, pull you out of the confusion and disorientation you must be feeling. You begin to hyperventilate, your hand slipping from his as you try to push yourself up. Dr. Keller already has the bed lifting, her other hand holding a vomit bag in front of you. It seems almost instinctual, but sheâs been through this many times before. She had told him how many during one of their talks, when heâd asked her how long she's been working with omegas. He hadnât realized just how little he really knew about your doctor before now.Â
Johnny has to look away as you vomit into the bag, his own stomach churning. Not just because of you being ill, but also because of how distressing this all seems. How you havenât gone into distress is a miracle to him, but perhaps youâre still too out of it to be that aware.Â
Your breathing has calmed just slightly, your forehead beaded with sweat. Dr. Keller removes the vomit bag from in front of you, grabbing another and setting it on your lap.Â
âIâm going to dispose of this.â She says. âSheâs going to be sick for a while. Iâll grab more fluids and Iâll be back shortly.âÂ
Johnny nods, wiping at the sweat on your brow. You lean into his touch, letting out a quiet whine. His touch is gentle, almost scared he might hurt you in your fragile state. Youâre still crying, the tears cascading down your cheeks. His chest hurts, guilt and sorrow churning inside of him from seeing you in this state. All thought that sedation was the best option goes out the window as he holds the vomit bag for you, keeping your braid out of the way.Â
Kyle had told him about what it was like during your heat and after, partially to feed his curiosity, but also in case something like this happened where he had to be the one taking care of you. Heâd heard about the pain, the tears, the disorientation. This is different, though. This is far worse than what Kyle had described to him.Â
Dr. Keller returns, IV bag in hand. She removes the empty bag and replaces it with the full one, hooking it up to your IV. You have to be thirsty after a few days of having nothing but a feeding tube and the fluids to keep you going during your fever.Â
Johnny catches her hand as she pulls out a syringe, small enough to be discreet. Something tickles in the back of his mind as he stares at it, his instincts on edge.Â
âWhat is that?â He asks, starting to get defensive, his metaphorical hackles rising. Â
âPain medicine.â She says simply, handing it to him. She has to be able to read him, sensing the sudden protectiveness wafting off of him.Â
He takes the syringe, reading the label. Morphine. He feels silly for distrusting the doctor. Sheâs never proven herself untrustworthy. While he knows they canât be too trusting of anyone, sheâs never done you any harm, never given them a reason to suspect her. She wouldn't hurt you, not after the dedication heâs seen from her these last few days alone.Â
âShe might need it later once sheâs more aware.â She continues, taking the syringe back when he hands it to her, putting it back in her pocket. âHer body just went through an intense hormonal cycle and those hormonal levels are now dropping suddenly. It can cause a wide range of symptoms from crying to illness to physical pain. When omegas are allowed to go through that cycle naturally, usually with an alpha, the symptoms of coming down from that cycle are typically less severe compared to when sedation is used, of course besides the physical pain. The pain with sedation is obviously quite different from the pain when the cycle happens naturally with an alpha.âÂ
Johnnyâs brows furrow as he rests his hand over yours, your breaths stuttering through your sobs. Your hands are clutching at the blanket, one of yours heâd grabbed from your room in hopes the familiar comfort might help you through the process. He hates that youâre in pain like this, he hates that youâre in pain at all. Heâs beginning to feel the bubbling anger deep in his stomach at Simon for letting you endure this. He has no idea. Heâs isolated himself for your safety, and heâll never get to see what this is like, what youâre going through right now.Â
Dr. Keller says your name softly, leaning against the side of the bed, electing to ignore the swirling emotions of her fellow beta. Heâs not her concern, you are. âCan you open your eyes for me?âÂ
You continue to cry, but you manage to get your eyes opened, squinting at her through your tears. Dr. Keller takes your face in her hands, using her thumbs to gently pull down your lower lids, trying to get a good look at your eyes. You try to jerk away, letting out possibly the cutest defiant sound Johnny has ever heard, and he might have reacted had it been a different situation. Instead he leans over the side of the bed again, talking to you quietly so you calm a bit. You do relax at the sound of his voice, his scent projecting even more to try and comfort you, bring you back into reality.Â
âThere we go.â Dr. Keller says, looking at your eyes before she gives you a soft smile. âWelcome back.â She removes her hands from your face leaning against the bed rail again. âIt's all over. You did perfectly.â
You let out another groan, lifting a hand weakly before letting it drop back against your stomach.Â
âI know you're thirsty.â Dr. Keller says. âI'll get you some soon. We need to make sure your stomach has settled for now.âÂ
Your eyes squeeze closed as you start to cry again, your inhales shaky as the tears start sliding down your cheeks. Johnny shushes you gently, petting your hair. Sweat still drips down your face, your hands curling around the edge of the blanket.Â
You try to push yourself up to sit, Dr. Keller immediately understanding what you need again as she lifts the vomit bag up to your mouth.
Johnny peels your hand from around the blanket, holding it tightly. His own stomach is churning but he swallows it back, bringing your hand up to his face. He kisses the back, the skin clammy and warm to the touch. Your scent is a swirl of things heâs never smelled before, drowning out the natural sweetness. Kyle had mentioned how your scent and Johnâs change during the heat and after. He hardly recognizes it right now, and he finds himself missing the sweet scent of strawberries.Â
Your fingers squeeze around his as you lay back against the bed, eyes cracked open and sniffling as the tears continue to slide down your cheeks. You let out a groan, tugging weakly at his hand.Â
âHi kitten.â He says, leaning over the bed rail again. âYer alright. Get ye feeling better soon.âÂ
Your inhale is shaky, catching in your chest. You weakly tug his hand towards your face pressing your sweaty cheek against his skin. You nuzzle against his hand, your tongue darting out to lick his skin. He can't help but chuckle, wiping at a tear that falls with his thumb. Youâre still out of it, but he knows thatâs a sign that youâre starting to come through, starting to come back to yourself through the haze.Â
You let out a long groan as you pull away from his hand, licking at your lips. They're horribly chapped, almost rivaling Simon's, but at least you have an excuse.
âThirsty?â Dr. Keller asks, returning to the bedside with a cup of water. âDrink slowly, you'll get sick again.â She warns, holding the straw up to your lips.Â
You manage to do as she says and take small sips of the water despite how thirsty he knows you must be. Johnny keeps caressing your face with his thumb, your fingers still laced with his.Â
âLet me get your vitals.â Dr. Keller says, setting the cup of water on the table. You let out a groan in protest, smacking your lips, obviously wanting more. âYou can have more in a minute. Too much on your stomach could upset it, and Iâm sure the last thing you want to do right now is get sick again.â
You let out a quiet grunt, leaning your cheek against his hand once again. Your skin is still a bit warm to the touch, but that could just be from the exertion of trying to come out of sedation and being sick. Dr. Keller takes your vitals once more, recording them on her sheet. Sheâs been tracking them your entire heat, using them to judge how far along you are since she doesnât have the benefit of you being awake to track the symptoms that way. He had wondered why she tracked them on paper, but then he remembered John telling him about how Shepherd had requested all of your private records and Dr. Kellerâs notes.Â
She is smart. Heâll give her that.Â
âThings look good, even if you might not feel like it right now.â She says.
You try to shift on the bed but you let out a quiet groan, freeing your hand from his.Â
âHurting?â Dr. Keller asks.
You nod, letting out a whine. It tickles in the back of his brain, his beta wanting to reach out and comfort you, but he knows he canât. He canât ease the physical pain. One downside to beta evolution. Their ancestors never learned how to fix physical pain. Maybe that would have made them too perfect. All he can do is try to comfort you through it.Â
âLet's get some pain meds in you.â She says, pulling the syringe out of her pocket again. âThen we can get you somewhere more comfortable.â
She injects the pain medicine through your IV, giving it a few minutes to begin working before disconnecting you from all the machines. Johnny helps her get you in a sweatshirt, wanting to keep you warm. You are shaking, though what that might be related to heâs not sure. Perhaps everything.Â
Dr. Keller hands him the cup of water. âKeep her drinking. I'll go grab a car, then we can get her back to the barracks.âÂ
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You feel far too light in Johnnyâs arms as he carries you from the car into the barracks. Simon is nowhere to be seen, though he hadnât expected a welcome back party from his alpha. Heâs probably still hiding out in his office, or in the gym, his usual hiding spot. Johnny is kind of glad heâs not here, though he would like to rub it in his face, the decision heâd made.Â
Johnny takes you to his room, still avoiding yours. Itâs almost like a crime scene, Johnny tempted to take it off. He knows placing you in there might make you panic when you wake up after everything. Thatâs the last thing he wants. So instead he takes you to the place youâve spent the last almost six weeks in, somewhere youâll recognize the scent and be comfortable when you wake up.Â
You roll onto your side as soon as he lays you down, curling up on his blankets. He drapes yours over you, tucking it around your shoulders before he steps back out into the hallway.Â
âKeep her hydrated. Lots of water, tea, clear sodas.â Dr. Keller instructs him. âShe'll be drowsy for a while because of the pain medicine. Give her a couple hours and once the pain meds wear off and her stomach settles a bit, try her with some bland foods. She did well with mashed potatoes after her last heat. Sheâs going to be out of it and sick for a few days. Keep an eye out for anything abnormal. Vomiting blood, canât keep food down, if she complains about pain somewhere or is hard to wake, give me a call.âÂ
âGot it.â Johnny nods, committing everything sheâs told him in the last ten minutes to memory.Â
âYou did really well.â She says, giving him a soft smile. âYou should be proud of yourself.âÂ
âThank you, doctor.â He nods, internally beaming at her praise.Â
âKeep me updated, and donât be afraid to call.â She says.Â
He watches her walk to the door, Simonâs door opening as soon as sheâs gone. He at least looks guilty, like the shame is eating him alive. Johnny hasnât seen him like this in a long time, not since he caused you to distress. It makes him a little too happy to see him in such a state.Â
âHow is she?â He asks, not moving from in front of his door.Â
The sound of you vomiting into a vomit bag reaches their ears. Simon at least has the decency to flinch at the sound. Itâs subtle, probably unnoticeable had Johnny not been able to read his alpha like a book.Â
âSick.â He says, trying to hide his anger and disappointment. Theyâre complex feelings. He knew Simon would turn you down if you asked for his own reasons, but now after seeing what happens when thereâs no alpha available during a heat, he almost hates Simon for doing this to you. âConfused. Still a bit out of it.âÂ
âYou know I couldnât do it.â Simon says, using that uncanny ability to read everyone around him.Â
Johnny hates it sometimes.
He turns to glance at you through his open door as you continue to be sick. Youâre going to be miserable for the next few days, likely more than you are usually after your heats. This one will be less physical pain after taking knots for a week straight, and more pain from being sedated, pain from being mostly immobile, pain from just being alive and carrying this status. Such pain omegas live with, physically, mentally, emotionally.Â
He hates it.Â
âYe donât know what it was like.â He says, his hands closing into fists. âSeeing her like that.âÂ
You let out a long whine, a sob tearing from your chest as you inhale. Tears prick behind Johnnyâs eyes as he holds Simonâs gaze. âYe just had to say no.â He shakes his head, turning to go back into his room.Â
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He doesn't want to tell you. He can see the look on your face already. The disappointment. The pain. The agony. He can smell the souring of your scent already, the painful grief filling it and there will be nothing he can do to ease it. It's a rare moment they've left you alone in the last month and a half, forced to after a call with Kate and Shepherd.
He's not even sure how to approach it.Â
He opens his bedroom door slowly, his stomach clenching as he looks in at you. You're on the bed, wrapped in a blanket where he left you, cuddled against your big bear. He doesn't want to wake you, especially not for this but he has to. He has no choice. You have to know.Â
He lets out a sigh as he sinks down on the edge of his bed, gently putting a hand on your shoulder. âKitten?â He shakes you gently. âKitten, wake up.â
You inhale sharply, startling awake despite his attempt to be gentle. Thereâs a sharp spike of fear in your scent for a moment as youâre yanked from sleep suddenly, but it fades as soon as you realize where you are and who is with you. You turn over onto your back, winding up resting against his knee as you rub your eyes.Â
âJohnny?â You croak, still partly asleep.Â
âSi and I just got off a call with Kate.â He says carefully, not wanting to scare you too much.Â
You're wide awake immediately, pushing yourself up to sit. You swallow nervously, your scent already souring. âWhat is it?â Your voice wavers as you ask, eyes already shining with tears.Â
âJohn and Kyle are fine.â He says, regretting not starting with that. He can see the temporary relief on your face. âBut, they need some backup for this one.âÂ
It takes a moment for your brain to process his words. A hole tears through the center of his chest as he watches the realization hit, your face falling as your scent begins to sour even more. Your arms wrap around yourself as you stare at him, the relief gone from your face as you stare at him. He swallows the lump in his own throat, your scent causing his beta to stir, the drive to comfort you itching in his brain. He canât though, he canât comfort you through this.Â
Your voice shakes, a tear sliding down your cheek as you figure out what it is he woke you to say, why Kate had called. Your inhale is shaky, catching in your chest before you speak.Â
âYou're both leaving too, arenât you.âÂ
NEXT ->
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#call of duty#call of duty fic#task force 141 x reader#poly 141 x reader#tf141 x reader#john price x reader#captain price x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#john mactavish x reader#soap x reader#kyle garrick x reader#gaz x reader#alpha/beta/omega dynamics#a/b/o#omegaverse
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Help Me Remember
Pairing: Dean Winchester x wife!reader
Summary: Your memories have been taken from you and it's up to Dean to get them back.
Warnings: Angsty af, memory loss, canon violence, cursing, use of pet names. SMUT, oral (M & F receiving), light face fucking, unprotected sex (P in V), biting (minimal), dirty talk.
Three Weeks Ago
"God almighty, what is that smell?"
You were doing your best to avoid inhaling too deeply--the stench uncomfortably strong. "Rotting flesh."
"Dead body?" Dean asked.
You nodded. "Several, I think."
"Great." Dean stepped in front of you, the instinct to protect you always foremost in his mind. He stepped through the open doorway, quickly enveloped by darkness.
You heard him grunt lowly and you stepped forward, trying to see through the darkness, but even your flashlight didn't penetrate it much. "Dean?"
When he didn't respond, you felt a tightening in your chest. "Dean?" you called again, a little louder.
The silence was deafening--sending cold chills down your back as you stepped farther into the room. "Babe? Answer me."
You took another step forward and your foot collided with something sturdy on the floor in front of you. You trained your flashlight downwards and inhaled sharply as the light illuminated a body at your feet. "Dean!"
You dropped to your knees beside him to check for a pulse, foolishly opening yourself up to attack in such a vulnerable moment.
The last sound you heard was a dark cackle coming from your right just before you were plunged into complete darkness.
Dean awoke with a low groan, rubbing his temples in an attempt to alleviate the throbbing in his head. It took him several moments to get his bearings and remember where he was. As soon as the memories clicked in his mind, he called out your name. You didn't respond and he felt a cold desperation wrap around his heart.
"(Y/N)!" he yelled as he pulled himself off the floor. "Sweetheart? Where are you?"
He was met with complete silence, making his blood run cold. He couldn't find the flashlight he'd been carrying, so he pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight, shining it into the darkness around him.
He immediately noticed the stench from earlier had dissipated, as had the total darkness that surrounded him in the moments before he'd lost consciousness. His flashlight had barely cut through the blackness, but his phone was able to light up the majority of the room around him with relative ease.
The room was completely empty. Not a single rotting corpse to be seen. No cause for the smell from earlier, nor any sign of what had caused the room to be plunged into complete darkness. More importantly, there was no sign of you.
Dean immediately ran from the room, hurriedly searching the rest of the abandoned home in the hopes of finding you passed out like he had been. When he'd searched every room to no avail, his panic had risen to untenable levels.
He called your phone, but it immediately went to voicemail. He left a frantic message before hanging up and calling Sam.
His brother answered on the second ring. "Dean? Everything okay?"
"Is (Y/N) with you?"
Sam could hear the panic in Dean's voice, causing his heart to race. "No...she was with you on that hunt in Colorado."
"I can't find her anywhere."
"What do you mean you can't find her?"
"I mean, I got knocked out and when I woke up she was gone. I've searched the whole damn house--she's gone, Sam!"
"Okay, breathe. She wouldn't leave you, so she's gotta be there somewhere."
"Well something knocked me out, Sam--and whatever the hell it was had to have taken (Y/N/N)."
"That doesn't make sense, Dean. You said it was a ghost--a basic haunting."
"Yeah that's what we thought it was! Clearly we were wrong."
"Alright, alright," Sam said in a soothing voice. "I'll pack a bag and head your way--we'll find her."
Dean let out a pained sound. "Hurry."
"I will."
**********
Present
You groaned in annoyance, rolling over in bed to slam your hand on the snooze of your alarm. When the incessant noise stopped, you sighed quietly, staring at the ceiling as light filtered in through the window.
You wanted to get out of bed and go to work about as much as you wanted to get hit by a car, but unfortunately the bills wouldn't pay themselves.
You dragged yourself out of bed and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower before getting ready for work. Thirty minutes later, you were grabbing your bag and heading out the door.
When you reached the office, you sat in your car for a few minutes, gathering whatever strength you had to get out of your car and walk through those doors. You hated your job--this office life was simply not for you. It was boring, but the paycheck was decent and you didn't have any other options.
You'd only had the job for a few weeks--it would be embarrassing to quit so soon after starting. Besides, the work was easy and your coworkers were nice enough.
You sighed quietly before getting out of the car and heading into the office building. You were greeted by several of your coworkers and you said your good mornings as you made your way to your office.
The day passed by uneventfully, just as every single day of the past few weeks seemed to. When 5pm rolled around, you packed up your things and left for the day. You decided to stop and get Chinese food on your way home--the urge to cook about as far away as the country of China was.
After picking up dinner, you made your way home. As you pulled into your driveway, you noticed an old black muscle car parked in front of your neighbor's house. You thought it odd given your neighbor was out of town, but the thought was gone as quickly as it came as your stomach grumbled hungrily.
You grabbed your things and headed inside, dropping your keys and purse by the front door. You tugged your shoes off, silently cursing whoever created high heels. You sat your food on the kitchen island and went to the fridge to grab a beer.
You plopped down at the island, quickly pulling the containers of delicious food from the bag. You groaned happily as you took a bite of food--finally sating the grumbling of your stomach.
Mid-bite, you heard a noise upstairs, causing you to freeze. You listened closely, almost certain there was someone in your house. You grabbed a large knife from the knife block on the counter and made your way slowly towards the stairs.
You went up them as quietly as you could, stopping on the landing to listen for more noises. You heard movement at the end of the hall, where your office was. You made your way toward the room, holding the knife in front of you.
When you rounded the corner, you saw a man standing in your office, looking through your desk. You steeled yourself before stepping fully into the room, yelling "hey!" as you entered.
The man looked up at you and froze, eyes flicking between your face and the knife in your hand. "Woah, easy there, sweetheart."
"Who are you and why are you in my house?"
The man looked slightly confused. "It's me, (Y/N)."
"How the hell do you know my name?"
The man started to come around to the front of your desk and you stepped towards him, brandishing the knife in what you hoped was a menacing manner. The man was significantly larger than you, but you didn't feel the fear you expected to feel. You felt oddly certain you could hold your own against him in a fight--which made zero sense to you. You'd never been in a fight in your life.
"Easy, (Y/N). Just put the knife down and we can talk."
"You broke into my house, asshole. No way am I putting down this knife."
His hands were still up in the air, but he didn't seem any more afraid of you than you were of him. "Okay, sweetheart, just relax. I can explain."
"Stop calling me that--I don't know you."
The man looked hurt by your words, but he seemed to shrug them off. "Sorry, sweet--shit. Sorry." He slowly lowered his hands, waiting for you to make a move. When you didn't, he lowered them completely. "My name is Dean Winchester."
He waited for a moment, hoping to see a flash of recognition on your face--but your expression remained blank. It was like a stab to the heart, but he continued. "Your name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). You're 33 years old. Your parents' names are Lily and Carter. You were born in New Mexico, but you spent most of your formative years in London. You came back to the U.S. after the death of your parents when you were 19. We met a couple years later on a hunt in Arkansas. We've been inseparable ever since."
The hand holding the knife was shaking almost uncontrollably. There was no way he could know any of those things--you didn't talk about your parents or your childhood with anyone. Hell, you barely mentioned the existence of a personal life.
"How do you know all of that? I don't talk about my family with anyone."
"You did with me."
"But I don't know you--I've never seen you before in my life."
"Yes you have...you just don't remember."
"Excuse me?"
Dean sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Three weeks ago, you and I were on a hunt in Colorado. It seemed like a routine hunt...but something went wrong. I was knocked unconscious and you disappeared. I've spent the last three weeks searching for you."
"I've never been hunting a day in my life."
"Look, I know it's confusing and I understand why you don't believe me, but I swear to you, it's the truth."
Much to your surprise, every instinct in your body seemed to believe him...to believe this man you'd never seen before, to trust the man who'd broken into your home, to believe the insane story he was telling you.
You slowly lowered the knife and exhaled shakily. "I don't understand what's going on, but my gut instinct is to trust you."
Dean exhaled gratefully. "You can trust me."
"If you're fucking with me--" you raised the knife for emphasis, "I swear I will beat the shit out of you."
Dean laughed softly. "I'd expect nothing less."
You shot him an odd look and shook your head. "You hungry? I have Chinese food downstairs."
"Sure. I could eat."
You nodded towards the door. "You first sunshine."
He walked ahead of you, making his way down to the kitchen with you in tow. He sat down at the island and you sat across from him, setting the knife on the counter beside you.
"Want a beer?" you asked.
"Absolutely."
You pointed at the fridge. "Help yourself."
Once he had his beverage, he sat back down, eyes watching you intently. You could tell there was something he wanted to say, so you called him out on it.
"It's just...hard to see you like this."
"I'm sure it is. It's uncomfortable for me too."
He winced. "Sorry, I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable. I've just really missed you."
You finally took a moment to really take in his features. You'd be lying if you said he wasn't the most attractive man you'd ever seen, but what really drew you in were his eyes. Sure they were a beautiful shade of green, but it was the warmth in them that made you feel comfortable. It was clear to you this Dean Winchester guy cared about you, even if you had zero clue as to why.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course," he answered.
"What am I to you?"
Dean inhaled sharply and his gaze drifted to the countertop in front of him. It was clear he wasn't sure how to answer that question--or if he should answer it. "I'm...I'm not sure I should answer that."
"I'm a big girl, Dean. Just tell me."
He looked back up at you, but when he opened his mouth, he didn't answer your question. "What do you remember of your life?"
"What?"
"Just tell me what you remember."
"Everything you said about my life was true. My name, my childhood, my parents...their deaths. I remember all of that. I remember moving back to the U.S....but I don't remember meeting you and I certainly don't remember hunting."
"So what have you been doing for the past 14 years?"
You closed your eyes for a moment, the memories infinitely more clear than the ones from your childhood. "I went to college and got a degree in marketing. Dated off and on, but no one had long-term potential. I had a few shitty jobs before finally landing the one at my current firm. I've been there a couple weeks, but I've got a corner office, a good paycheck, and decent coworkers."
"And do you like it? Marketing?"
You paused, considering your options before deciding to answer honestly. "It's boring, in all honesty, but it pays the bills."
"Do you ever think maybe you're meant for something more?"
You stared at him in surprise. You didn't know how he could possibly know that...you'd never shared that particular thought with anyone. You'd always felt that way--for as long as you could remember. "Yes," you whispered. "How did you know that?"
Dean smiled at you. "Because you are meant for more, (Y/N/N). You've spent the last 14 years doing more--you've saved countless lives. Hell, you've helped save the entire planet more than once."
You laughed loudly, thinking he must be joking. When you noticed his expression was completely serious, your laughter died instantly. "You--you can't be serious."
"I'm completely serious."
You scoffed. "No offense, Dean, but I've never saved anyone--let alone the entire planet. I think that's something I would remember."
He gave you a sad smile, pain lacing his gorgeous features. "There's so much you don't remember, (Y/N/N)."
The pain on his face matched the tone of his voice--and it sent a piercing pain into your heart. A pain you couldn't possibly begin to understand. "What else don't I remember?"
Dean shook his head. "I don't think you're ready for all of that, sweetheart."
This time, you didn't correct him. The pet name made your chest ache--and you had a feeling this was a common term of endearment from him. It made you want to understand the nature of your relationship. "Then just tell me one thing. What am I to you?"
Dean exhaled slowly, brilliant green eyes fluttering closed. He was desperately trying to remain objective, but it was nearly impossible. He felt like he owed you in some way and he knew he couldn't lie. His eyes met yours once again and you were stunned by the depths of emotion swimming in those green orbs.
"I feel like I owe you the truth, but I don't want you to freak out. So just...please just let me talk before you respond."
You nodded and waited for him to continue.
"Like I said before, we met a few years after you came back to the states. About 11 years ago, to be exact. I remember the first time I saw you like it was yesterday. You were so beautiful--almost painfully so. I felt drawn to you immediately, but you wanted nothing to do with me. I suppose it only made me want you more." He chuckled fondly at the memory. "You were pure fire back then. No one could control you, not that I'd ever dare to try. I think I fell in love almost immediately. You were everything I'd ever wanted, but I uh--I had a bit of a reputation in the community. A not-so-nice reputation when it came to the ladies...and unfortunately for me, you were well-aware of it."
Dean shook his head sadly. "I still don't know why, but you decided to stay with me and Sam--my brother. The three of us hunted together and sometime during the year that followed, I managed to win you over. You were crazy enough to fall in love with me--and we've been together ever since." He paused. "So to answer your question, (Y/N), you're the love of my life. My best friend, my partner, my confidante, my whole world. You're the woman I vowed to spend the rest of my life with and I'll be damned if I don't make good on that promise."
You sat in stunned silence, unsure how to feel about his revelation. One thing was for sure, you knew he was being honest. Every fiber of your being told you he loved you--every instinct you had screamed that he meant every word he said. It nearly broke your heart to have no memory of the feelings he was referring to...you couldn't reciprocate his words. As far as you were concerned, he was a stranger to you. You had no idea how to respond--nothing you could have said would have comforted him.
After several moments of silence, you finally looked up at Dean, meeting his teary gaze. "I believe you," you whispered.
Surprise lit up the handsome man's face. He hadn't been sure how you'd respond, but he hadn't thought you'd believe a word he said. "I meant every word, (Y/N/N)."
"I'm sorry I don't remember," you murmured sadly.
He offered you a small smile. "It's alright, sweetheart. I'm gonna find a way to get your memories back--to get our lives back."
"How?"
"If you're okay with it, we'll go see a friend of mine. She might be able to help."
You might be crazy for being willing to go with this strange man...but your gut told you there was no other choice. You hated the life you lived and if there was even a chance the life Dean was describing was real, you had to take it. "I'm in."
Dean smiled warmly. "That's my girl."
**********
Dean didn't explain who exactly you were going to see, but he did tell you it was quite a distance away. As such, you'd have to stop in a motel along the way.
Dean kept the conversations in the car away from the life--from hunting. He wasn't ready to explain all of that yet, especially if there was even the slightest chance you would run away screaming. He needed you to trust him and mentioning monsters wasn't likely to keep things calm.
It was late at night when he finally pulled off into a roadside motel. "It's not the Ritz, but it'll do for a night," Dean commented.
You offered him a smile and followed him into the dingy room. You tossed your bag onto the bed nearest the door and Dean immediately picked it up and moved it to the other bed. "No way in hell are you sleeping by the door, sweetheart."
You looked a little surprised, but simply shrugged your agreement.
Dean winced. "Sorry--I just worry about your safety, that's all."
You smiled. "It's alright. I get it."
He tossed his bag on the bed and sat down to take off his boots. "You can get the first shower."
"Alright, thanks." You grabbed your stuff and headed into the bathroom to take a shower.
Dean made a call to Sam as soon as the door to the bathroom was closed. He'd already called his brother and informed him that he'd found you and told him where you were headed. Sam was already on his way to you, speeding along the highway in your direction.
"Hey Sammy."
"Hey Dean. How is she?"
"She's okay. She's in the shower right now. Where you at?"
"Probably an hour out now. What motel did you stop at?"
Dean gave him the location and room number. "Call me when you get here and I'll let you in."
"Have you told her I'm coming yet?"
"I mentioned you earlier...but I'm trying to keep her as calm as possible. I don't want her to freak out."
Sam sighed. "Alright, but you might wanna mention it before I get there."
"Yeah, yeah. I will. See you soon."
20 minutes after the call ended, you came out of the bathroom, feeling reasonably clean. You'd spent more time in the shower than you'd needed to, if only to try and calm your racing mind. A lot had happened in the last five hours and you were mentally and emotionally exhausted.
When you came out of the bathroom, you collapsed on the musty-smelling bed and sighed.
"I know it's not a great place, but maybe you'll be able to get some sleep. I'm sure you're tired."
"Very."
Dean smiled sadly. "I'm gonna take a shower real quick, okay?"
You nodded and rolled over, trying to get comfortable on the rock-hard bed.
Dean eyed you warily before stepping into the bathroom and shutting the door.
You closed your eyes and fell asleep with shocking ease. Mental exhaustion was clearly a great cure for insomnia.
When Dean came out of the shower, he fully expected you to still be awake. He wanted to let you know Sam was on the way so you wouldn't be freaked out by his arrival. Unfortunately, you were clearly sound asleep and he didn't want to wake you. You looked too peaceful to disturb.
**********
You awoke sometime in the early hours of the morning, bladder throbbing uncomfortably. You got out of bed and headed to the bathroom, failing to notice the large figure lying on the couch near the bathroom door.
Your movement woke Sam up and he decided he needed to use the bathroom too. He stood up and stretched, waiting for you to come back out.
When you came out of the bathroom, you caught sight of a large male figure standing near the door. You quickly assessed him and realized it wasn't Dean--the man was too tall. Without thinking, you lunged towards him, fist connecting with the side of his jaw, sending him stumbling backwards.
He fell back into the small dining table, forcing it against the wall with a loud noise. The commotion was enough to wake up Dean, who shot out of bed ready to fight. It took him only a moment to realize what had happened.
You lunged towards Sam again, who held up his hands to block your attack. Dean jumped towards you and yelled your name, pulling you to a stop.
"It's okay! It's okay!" Dean insisted. "It's just Sam!"
You were breathing heavily, but you lowered your fists. "Who the hell is Sam?"
"My brother!"
Your mind cleared slightly as you remembered Dean mentioning Sam's name earlier in the evening. "Oh shit," you muttered.
Dean turned on the light and Sam rubbed his jaw woefully. "Nice swing, (Y/N/N).
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," you said softly. "I didn't mean to--I just reacted."
"Well it was a good shot either way," Sam said with a pained chuckle.
Dean laughed softly. "At least your instincts are still strong."
You winced a smile. "Let me go get some ice."
Dean stopped you with a gentle hand on your arm. "I'll go get it. Stay inside."
You could tell he was worried about your safety and it made you wonder what he wasn't telling you.
Sam sat down at the table and continued to rub his jaw. "It really is good to see you, (Y/N). Despite the punch."
"I'm so sorry, Sam. I didn't know you would be here."
"I figured that out," he said with a light chuckle. "Don't worry about it. It was a solid punch."
Dean came back in with a full ice bucket. He handed the bucket to Sam and chuckled. "Damn dude, she got you good."
You winced, feeling terrible for hurting him.
Dean noticed your discomfort and turned to you with a gentle smile. "It's alright, sweetheart. He's had a hell of a lot worse. He'll be fine."
Sam nodded his agreement. "He's not wrong. I'm alright."
You punched Dean in the arm in annoyance.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"You could have told me he was coming!"
"You were asleep! I didn't wanna wake you."
You sighed. "Alright fine, but quit keeping things from me, Dean."
He nodded, rubbing his arm. "Sorry, sweetheart."
"I'm going back to sleep. Let me know when it's time to go."
The brothers watched you crawl back into bed and Dean let out a soft sigh. "I think I'm too awake to sleep now."
"Same," Sam muttered.
The two sat at the table in silence, allowing you to get a couple more hours of sleep before it was time to head back out on the road.
**********
"So who exactly are we going to see?" you asked curiously.
Sam shot his brother a look from the backseat of the car. Dean glared at him in the rearview mirror and the younger man stayed silent.
"A friend of ours from when we were kids," Dean answered. "Her name is Missouri."
"Missouri...hmm. Do I know her?"
Dean nodded.
"How can she help me?"
"She's uh...well she's really..."
"Perceptive," Sam finished for him.
"Yeah, perceptive."
You gave Dean an odd look. "Okay then."
"Just...trust me, okay? She's the best there is. She can help."
Two words remained unsaid, living only deep in Dean's heart. I hope.
When the car pulled up in front of the house, Missouri immediately knew who it was. She met the three of you at the front door, a smile on her face.
"What do I owe the pleasure of a visit from all three Winchesters?"
Dean froze for a moment, which didn't go unnoticed by Missouri. Nor did you miss her use of the words "three Winchesters".
You shot Dean a silent reproachful look and Missouri tsked loudly. "Dean Winchester, what did you do?"
He held up his hands in mock surrender. "I didn't do anything, Missouri. I swear."
Missouri's gaze landed on your face, her expression softening instantly. "Oh honey..."
Her expression frightened you, as did her extremely perceptive gaze. It felt as though she was looking directly through you.
"Well come in you three. It's cold out here."
The three of you followed the older woman into her home. She gestured for you all to sit in the living room while she went to the kitchen to make some tea.
"Why did she call me a Winchester?" you asked Dean in hushed tones.
Sam gave his brother an 'I told you so' look and waited for his response.
Dean sighed. "I wasn't completely honest with you yesterday," he admitted. "(Y/N) (Y/L/N) was your name, until six years ago."
"What happened six years ago?" You were pretty sure you knew the answer, but you wanted to hear him say it.
"We got married," he answered softly. "You decided to change your name...and you've been (Y/N) Winchester ever since."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want to freak you out. I'd already unloaded a lot of information on you. It's hard to look your wife in the eyes and realize she doesn't remember you--it's even harder to tell her what she means to you."
"But you told me how much you loved me...why couldn't you admit we're married?"
Dean shook his head. "I really don't know, sweetheart. I think I was scared you would run. It had been so hard to find you and I didn't want to risk losing you again."
Tears welled in your eyes and you placed a soft, comforting hand on his arm. "I'm not going anywhere, Dean."
He looked up at you, expression matching your own. He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to your forehead, though he desperately wanted to kiss your lips instead.
"Tea, everyone," Missouri stated as she entered the living room.
You immediately took the cup she offered you gratefully. "Thank you."
She nodded at you, giving you a warm smile. "Now I know you boys don't like tea, but there's no alcohol in this house."
"I'll take a cup, Missouri," Sam said.
She handed him a cup and gave Dean a stern look. You had a feeling the expression had nothing to do with his not liking tea.
"Now why don't you boys tell me what brings you all the way out here."
Dean sighed. "You mean you don't already know?"
"Dean!" Sam scolded.
"Oh I imagine it has something to do with (Y/N)'s memories, but I'd like to hear it from you."
Surprise lit up your face. "How did you--?"
"I see your husband left a few things out, didn't he? Do you want to share, Dean?"
Dean winced and shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, well--umm...Missouri is--well, she's psychic."
"I'm sorry, she's what?"
"Psychic," Dean repeated.
You turned to look at Sam and he simply nodded. Your gaze shifted back to Missouri who gave you another sad smile.
"It's true, honey. That's why I know about your missing memories. I can see the block in your mind...and the fake memories replacing your real ones."
"Fake memories? What do you mean fake memories?"
"How did your parents die?" Missouri asked seemingly from nowhere.
"A car accident," you answered in confusion.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Dean and Sam exchange glances. Missouri sighed quietly and shook her head.
You tried to catch Dean's gaze, but he kept his eyes trained on the floor in front of him, suddenly fascinated with the pattern of the rug.
"Are you saying my parents didn't die in a car accident?"
"No, dear. They did not," Missouri answered.
"But I remember--" you fell silent as Missouri's words came back to you...'fake memories'. You shook your head. "I don't understand."
Missouri gave you a pitying look. "When you were 19 years old, your parents were murdered by something inhuman. A creature known as a ghoul. The ghoul appeared to you as your mother after it had killed her in an attempt to kill you, but you realized it wasn't your mother. You grabbed a wooden candlestick off the mantle and bashed the creature's head in, managing to kill it without even knowing what it was."
You were frozen in your seat, caught somewhere between disbelief and utter terror. You pushed the terror down, allowing the disbelief to prevail. You jumped out of your seat and yelled, "You people are crazy! Ghouls don't exist!"
Dean stood up and grabbed your arm to keep you from running. "Ghouls are very real, (Y/N). That experience changed your life forever. From that moment on, you knew the things that go bump in the night were real...that they murdered innocent people all over the world. It's why you came back here...to find answers and learn how to hunt them."
You shook your head vehemently. "No, no, that's not possible. They died in a car accident!"
Dean turned you to face him completely. "We met on a vampire hunt in Arkansas. Sam and I had identified the case and we ran into you early on in the hunt. You more than proved your abilities during that case and I asked you to come hunt with us. I didn't want you to keep going alone--it was too risky."
"What are you talking about?" you cried. "Vampires aren't real! None of this is real...it can't be real." Your knees turned to jelly and you would have fallen to the floor if Dean hadn't been holding onto you. He pulled you into him and you sobbed into his chest, finally allowing your tumultuous emotions out.
Dean held you tightly, tears of his own threatening to fall. He didn't know how to make you believe any of this--it sounded insane to him and he'd been raised in the life. He had a hard enough time convincing people who had literally seen a monster that they were real--this was so much worse. You couldn't remember all the monsters you'd killed in your life, so why would you ever believe a word any of them said?
"We might seem crazy, (Y/N), but I think if you allow yourself to believe it for even a moment, you may find it's not as crazy as it sounds," Missouri said gently.
You sniffled softly and turned to look into her eyes. You were still wrapped in Dean's arms--it made you feel incredibly safe, despite the situation. You focused on that feeling and tried to relax your breathing. Every single part of you was certain Dean would die to protect you...if that was true, then the love he had for you was real too. If his love was real, then so was your relationship--your marriage. If all of this was true, then maybe what he was telling you was true...maybe monsters really were real.
Missouri saw the moment you began to believe them--your eyes showed your emotions, but it was your mind that gave you away. She could sense your belief, just as she could sense the false memories swirling around in your mind.
"A witch," she said softly.
Dean's entire body went rigid. "What?"
"The missing memories and the replacements...it's the work of a witch. An extremely powerful one at that."
"Are you sure?" Dean whispered.
Missouri shot him a glare that told him exactly how certain she was.
"A witch?" you questioned softly, pulling away from Dean to look at his face.
"My least favorite type of monster."
"Witches are monsters?" you asked.
"Most of them," he responded.
"This kind of magic is dark," Missouri muttered. "Messing with someone's memories...it's very dangerous magic. The skill needed to not only block out the real memories but replace them indicates this is a very old witch. This type of magic isn't common these days."
"Demons?" Sam asked.
Missouri shook her head. "Older."
"Demons?" you squeaked out. "Demons are real too?"
Dean rubbed your arms comfortingly. "Yeah, sweetheart, but we don't need to worry about that right now, okay?"
You exhaled shakily. "How do I know what memories are real and which ones aren't?"
Missouri stood up and took your hands, forcing Dean to release you. She looked into your eyes, gaze extremely focused. After several moments she spoke. "Your childhood is intact up until your parents' deaths. Everything else up until three weeks ago is a false memory."
"Fourteen years?" you gasped. "Fourteen years of my life is a lie?"
Dean could see you start to spiral, instinctively reaching for you to try to ground you. "Baby, baby, hey--hey...focus on me, okay? Everything's gonna be okay."
Your eyes met his and your breathing began to slow once again. His warm gaze brought you back to earth, calming you in a way only he could. You felt calm--you felt safe. "Thank you," you whispered.
He pulled you into him for a tight a hug, placing his lips to the top of your head. "I've got you, sweetheart. I've got you."
Both Sam and Missouri felt as though they were intruding on a private moment. Missouri gestured for Sam to follow her out of the room, leaving the two of you alone.
"Are you alright?" Dean asked softly.
You looked up at him. "I think so. It's--it's a lot to take in."
"I know, sweetheart. I can't imagine what you're feeling right now, but everything we've told you is true."
"What happened three weeks ago, Dean?"
"What I told you before was true, but I left out a few details. We were on a hunt...a routine haunting. At least that's what we thought it was. When we got there, it was dark inside and it smelled like rotting corpses. It was strange, but not exactly out of the ordinary for a haunting. I went into a room ahead of you and I was knocked unconscious by something--I don't even remember what it was. When I woke up, you were gone."
"Could a--a witch do that?"
Dean nodded. "Easily. Especially if they're as powerful as Missouri thinks they are."
"So what do we do?"
"We find a way to restore your memories...then we hunt this witch down and find out why they targeted you."
"What if we can't?"
"Oh we'll find the witch. Don't worry."
You shook your head. "What if we can't get my memories back?"
Dean's expression betrayed his fear, if only for a second. "There has to be a way. There has to."
"There is," Missouri stated as she reentered the room with Sam in tow. "But it won't be pleasant."
"Can you do it?" Dean asked.
"I'm a psychic, Dean, not a witch."
Dean looked crestfallen.
"But I know someone who can help."
Dean looked back up. "Who?"
"Her name is Bethelia Logan. She's a very old, very powerful witch."
"Absolutely not!" Dean yelled instantly. "I'm not taking (Y/N) to a witch."
"Don't yell at me, child. Do you want her memories back or not?"
Dean started to argue again, but you placed a gentle hand to his chest, silencing him. "Do you trust her?"
Missouri nodded. "I would never send you to someone I didn't trust." She pointed at Dean. "You should know that."
Dean looked down in shame. He hated witches--hated them with everything in his soul. His hatred existed long before this moment...but now that he knew a witch had stolen your memories? He'd kill every witch on earth if he could.
"Where can we find this Bethelia Logan?" Sam asked.
"She lives in the mountains of Montana. Partially for the nature and partially for the privacy. She's not particularly friendly to strangers, but if you tell her I sent you, she'll help you."
"Are you sure she'll help us?" Dean asked.
"I'll send her a message. She'll help."
Dean looked down at you, wanting the decision to be yours and yours alone.
"You have her address?" you asked, a resigned smile on your face.
Missouri gave Dean the address and wished him luck. She said her goodbyes to the boys before sending them out the door. She stopped you before you could leave, wanting to say something in private.
"You are a strong woman, (Y/N). I have always thought that. You will need all your strength to get through this, if you choose to go through with it."
"What do you mean, 'if'?"
"The magic used to take your memories was very powerful black magic...and it will take very powerful black magic to reverse it. Such magic is dangerous for the user and for the person it is used on."
Realization dawned on your face. "Will I survive it?"
Missouri's expression softened, sadness darkening her gaze. "I don't know, honey, but it will likely be the most painful experience of your life. Which is why it must be your choice to go through with it. Yours, (Y/N)--yours alone."
You looked towards the Impala where Dean and Sam waited for you. You turned back to look at Missouri, a soft sigh leaving your lips. "Thank you for telling me."
"I love those boys like family, just as I love you, but Dean isn't like a normal man. He loves more deeply than anyone I have ever known--there isn't anything he wouldn't do for you. Don't tell him what I've told you, (Y/N). He won't let you make this choice on your own if you do...not because he doesn't trust you, but because he doesn't want to lose you."
Tears filled your eyes as you regarded the older woman. "I don't know how to explain it, but I know how much he loves me. I know what he would do for me. I need to remember why--desperately."
Missouri sighed quietly. "You've always loved that boy more than he believes he deserves, but in truth, he deserves all of your love. I've never met two people more perfect for one another--even if you never remember your lives together, I know you will love him that much again."
You nodded, allowing her words to wash over you. You knew in your heart she was right--you could see yourself falling in love with him, so it didn't surprise you that she believed it too. "Thank you, Missouri. For everything."
"You are so welcome, (Y/N) Winchester. Now go--and be safe."
You gave her a tight hug before walking away to join your husband and his brother on what would turn out to be the most harrowing journey of your life.
**********
It was a 16 hour drive from Missouri's home to Bethelia's home in Montana. You were quiet for most of the ride, reflecting on everything that had happened, as well as Missouri's final words to you. You half-listened to Sam and Dean's conversation, but your mind was elsewhere. You knew you had an important decision to make--one you apparently had to make entirely on your own.
Dean noticed your quiet demeanor and it worried him more than he cared to admit. He had to wonder what Missouri had said to you before you'd left, but he didn't want to press you for answers.
"Sweetheart, why don't you get some sleep?" Dean suggested softly. "I'm gonna drive through the night."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" you asked softly.
"We do it all the time. Don't worry," he assured you.
Sam nodded his agreement. "If he gets tired, I'll take over."
"Over my cold dead corpse," Dean grumbled.
You laughed lightly and Sam rolled his eyes. "Alright, I'll try and get some sleep."
You turned your body slightly, leaning your head against the car window. You tried to get comfortable, but the cold metal and freezing window made that impossible.
Dean noticed your discomfort, watching you shift back and forth for several minutes. "Hey baby," he said softly, getting your attention. You turned to look in his direction.
"Come here, use my shoulder." You looked up at him and he offered you a gentle smile. "I can tell you're uncomfortable."
You angled your body to lean across the seat, resting your head on his shoulder. You sighed softly, finally finding a comfortable position. You were asleep within minutes. Dean glanced down at you and smiled before placing a soft kiss to the top of your head.
Sam watched the interaction from the backseat, a mixture of sadness and joy weighing on him. He was glad Dean had found you, but he was terrified of what would happen when they made it to Montana. Sam wasn't stupid...and he knew a lot more about magic than his brother did. He knew it was going to be extremely dangerous to try and fix your memories, and he worried it wouldn't end well. He didn't want to mention his concerns to Dean as he didn't want to scare him. He knew exactly what his brother was like when someone he loved was in danger.
You awoke several hours later to rays of morning sun shining through the windshield. Your head was still resting against Dean's shoulder and he felt you stir slowly.
"Good morning beautiful," Dean whispered softly.
You looked up at him with a smile. "Mornin'." You pulled yourself up into a sitting position and stretched.
You felt Dean's gaze on you, so you turned to look at him. "What?"
"Nothin'."
You raised your eyebrows. "Then why're you looking at me like that?"
He smiled. "You're just so beautiful," he said softly. "I can't help but stare."
You blushed and looked away from him. "Not this early in the morning," you mumbled.
He chuckled lightly. "Nice try, sweetheart. You're beautiful 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. 366 during leap year." He shot you a wink, which only caused your blush to deepen.
"You're too much," you giggled softly.
He reached over and tucked a stray hair behind your ear. "You're just right."
"What did I do to deserve you?" you asked softly.
Surprise lit up his handsome face. "Deserve me? Other way around, baby."
You shook your head. "I don't think so."
He glanced over at you again. "There's a lot you don't remember, (Y/N/N). Trust me when I say I'm the one who doesn't deserve you."
"That's not what Missouri thinks."
"Huh?"
"She told me you think you don't deserve me, but she said you deserve all the love I have to give. She thinks very highly of you, you know."
The look of surprise covered his face again. "I think highly of her too."
You smiled, reaching across to grab his hand. He looked over at you with a smile. "I can see why I fell in love with you."
His heart skipped a beat, hearing your words had a profound effect on him. "I'm still not sure how I won you over, but I'll always be grateful for your love."
You leaned across the seat and placed a soft kiss to his cheek. "I can't wait to remember everything," you whispered.
He shot you a warm smile, but it quickly faded to sadness.
"Dean?" you murmured.
"I know what we're going to do is extremely dangerous. I'm no fool, (Y/N/N)...I know Missouri warned you. I don't want you to do anything out of some sort of obligation to me, okay? I would rather die than lose you."
You touched his cheek gently. "I didn't want to worry you."
"I know. I'm willing to bet she told you not to tell me anyway."
Your mirthless chuckle was confirmation enough. "For the record, any decision I make is because it's what I want to do...and I need you to respect my decision."
Tears welled in his eyes, but he nodded. "I'll try."
You shook your head. "It's not a request, Dean."
He sighed. "I know you can't remember...but I'm not good at these types of situations. I tend to be a little reckless when someone I love is at risk."
"Missouri may have mentioned that too."
Dean chuckled. "Of course she did."
Sam began to stir in the backseat, a loud yawn alerting you both to his consciousness. "We there yet?" he mumbled.
Dean laughed. "We've still got another 4 hours or so."
"You want me to drive?"
"No one but my baby gets to drive Baby."
Sam laughed and rolled his eyes.
"Did you just call the car 'Baby'?" you asked.
"The three things I love most in this world are, you, Sammy, and this car."
You laughed heartily, rekindling Sam's laughter and sparking Dean's laughter. You might not be able to remember it, but you knew deep in your soul that these two people were your family--and somehow you loved them even without the memories to back it up.
**********
It was mid-afternoon when the three of you finally pulled up in front of a small house in middle-of-nowhere Montana.
"Do you think Missouri called her?" Dean asked.
"We better hope so," you murmured, pointing at the various signs in the yard warning people not to trespass.
"Yikes," Sam muttered.
Dean sighed and got out of the car, you and Sam following close behind. Before Dean could raise his hand to knock on the front door, it opened to reveal a surprisingly young-looking woman.
"Can you read?" the woman snapped.
"Missouri Moseley sent us," Sam said quickly.
The woman's expression softened immediately. "Well why didn't you say so? Come in, come in!"
You followed her inside and she gestured for you to have a seat in her small living room. The three of you sat down beside each other on the small couch.
"I'm Bethelia," the woman said as she sat in a chair across from you. "You must be the Winchesters."
The three of you nodded.
Bethelia looked at you closely. "I see you've been touched by black magic."
You nodded slowly. "So I've been told."
"Can you help her?" Dean asked.
Bethelia hummed quietly. "I can, but I am not certain you'll want me to."
"Missouri warned me it would dangerous."
She nodded. "This type of magic is very strong. I cannot guarantee you will survive."
Dean froze beside you and you blindly reached out to grab his hand. You squeezed it reassuringly. "What do I have to do?"
"(Y/N/N)," Dean pleaded.
Bethelia watched you carefully. "You have to be willing to risk everything to retrieve your memories. As you are now, you can make new memories with the ones you love, even if you cannot remember the past. But if you choose to work with me, your life may be forfeit."
You'd spent every waking hour since leaving Missouri's thinking about what you would do. Now, faced with the question, you found you knew your answer without a shadow of a doubt. "I'm willing to risk it."
"(Y/N/N)," Dean pleaded a second time. "You said it yourself--we can make new memories...we can fall in love all over again."
You turned to look into your husband's bright green eyes, both of which swirled with emotions the depths of which you couldn't even begin to understand. "Would you mind giving us a moment?"
Bethelia rose, immediately understanding what you needed. Sam took a second longer, but quickly followed Bethelia from the room, leaving you and Dean alone.
Dean immediately rose from his seat and began to pace. "You can't do this, (Y/N). It's not worth the risk."
"It's my decision, Dean. I don't need your permission, but I would like your support."
"I can't give you that--I can't...I can't lose you."
You stood up and grabbed his hands, stopping him in front of you. "I know it's hard, but it's worth it to me--it's worth the risk. I need to remember, Dean. It's my life and if the last few days are anything to go by, then I'd give anything to remember the last eleven years with you. Anything."
He looked down at you, finally allowing the tears to slide down his face. Your heart broke as you took in his pained expression, fear evident in his gaze. "I want to remember everything about you--every moment, every heartbreak, every painful memory, every joyful second, every loving embrace. I want to remember what it's like to love you--and be loved by you."
You reached up and wiped the tears from his cheeks, and you found yourself wishing you could take away his pain. You didn't want to die, but you didn't want to live a lie--you needed the truth and the only way to get that was to restore your memories.
"I need to remember."
Dean closed his eyes and leaned into your palm. He would have traded places with you in a heartbeat, sold his soul to save you, set fire to the world to keep you out of harm's way...but he couldn't do any of those things. He was powerless to protect you and it was killing him.
"I know you're strong," he whispered. "but baby, I'm terrified."
"I know," you murmured. "I know."
You rose up on your tiptoes, gently pulling his face down to yours. You pressed your lips to his in a heated kiss--a kiss you tried to infuse with every complicated emotion you'd felt in the last several days. His body instinctively melted into yours like you were made for each other--like you'd done it a thousand times before.
When you separated, he leaned his forehead against yours, breath mingling with yours. "I need you to trust me," you whispered.
Dean closed his eyes. "I trust you."
You exhaled shakily as you pulled away from him. It was killing him, but he couldn't make this decision for you--all he could do was give you the one thing you asked for.
"I support whatever decision you make...and I love you," he said softly. "I'll always love you."
You hadn't really expected him to support you, so hearing him say those words gave you an added boost of strength you didn't know you needed. You touched his cheek one last time before walking away in search of Bethelia.
"You are ready," the witch said from the doorway, her words a confirmation, not a query.
You nodded. "Let's do this."
Sam went to his brother's side, giving him a reassuring clap on the back. There wasn't really anything for him to say, but his presence was enough to calm Dean.
Bethelia turned to address the two men. "No matter what happens, you must not interrupt the spell. If you do, you risk her mind as well as her life. Do you understand?"
They both nodded.
"It will be painful," she said to you.
"I know," you whispered.
She simply nodded and gestured for you to follow. She guided you to a dimly lit room filled with hundreds of candles. The room was obviously home to a large amount of spell work, but much of the space had been cleared to make room for a large mat in the center of the floor.
"Lie down, (Y/N)."
You did as she asked, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm your racing heart.
"You may wait in the hall," Bethelia addressed Sam and Dean. "Do not cross the threshold. Do not interrupt the spell. Do nothing."
You turned to make eye contact with Dean. "I'll be alright."
He nodded, desperate to believe you. "I love you," he whispered.
"I know," you whispered back.
"Let's begin," Bethelia said, silencing any further conversation.
You closed your eyes and sent out a silent prayer to any deity who might be listening--a prayer for strength, for survival. It was the last coherent thought you had before your mind was overwhelmed with a blinding pain you couldn't describe.
Sam and Dean watched from outside the room as you writhed in pain, cries of agony ripped from your throat as Bethelia worked her magic.
"I can't watch this," Dean gasped out, turning on his heels and practically running for the front door.
Even outside, he could hear your screams--each one like a knife to his heart. He didn't know how long he stood there, he had long since lost count of your screams, the seconds between them all but disappearing.
Sam had remained inside, standing watch over you as best he could. Much like Dean, his chest ached with each of your screams--he hated seeing you in so much pain.
After what felt like an eternity, silence fell on the small home--a silence more deafening than any scream. Dean waited for a few moments before running back into the house, terrified of what he would find.
When your limp body came into view, he tried to enter the room--tried to reach you, but Sam grabbed him and held him back. "Dean, you can't! She's not done!"
Dean struggled against his brother's hold, every instinct dying to go to you. He watched in terror as you remained still as death, not a single sound escaping your sweet lips.
"(Y/N/N)..." he whimpered.
Bethelia's chanting had ceased, her small form kneeling beside your body as if waiting for something.
Unbeknownst to anyone in the home, a war was raging inside your mind--a battle between who you were and who you believed yourself to be. Memories were fighting for their rightful place in your mind--false and real, a distinction your fragile psyche couldn't make.
The only thing you knew for sure was your name: (Y/N) Winchester. You knew it with the same conviction that you knew gravity was real. Your certainty gave way to another: Dean Winchester was the love of your life. Flashes of moments from the past few days flew through your mind, but the ones you focused on where the memories you didn't recall.
You saw the joyful moments filled with laughter and jokes, the painful moments filled with tears and loss, the passionate moments with nothing between your bodies but sweat and desire, and the loving moments that grounded you--kept you from giving up even when life was unbearable.
You felt his love for you wash over you in waves, drowning you in an ocean of passion you didn't wish to escape from. But then you felt your love for him, the depths of which you couldn't even begin to comprehend. Whatever you'd imagined you'd felt for him paled in comparison to reality--he was tied to your soul so completely you wondered how it was possible to have lived without his memory for more than a moment.
As these memories and emotions solidified within you, the false memories began to fade away, replaced by the real ones that had been locked away in the darkest recesses of your mind. Millions of memories flooded your mind, filling the gaps in your life, making you whole once more.
Dean, Sam, and Bethelia watched in silence, waiting for something to happen. Dean wasn't even certain you were breathing, but he was terrified to ask...he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.
Bethelia began to look more and more crestfallen as time went on, the minutes ticking by in painful silence. Sam's gaze was focused on her, praying her expression would turn hopeful once again.
Dean's gaze, on the other hand, was focused entirely on you--on your face. He was looking for any sign of movement, of life...anything to calm his aching heart.
An hour had passed since the spell had begun...twenty minutes of silence had stretched on after your screams had ended. They were the longest twenty minutes of Dean's life.
He had begun to lose hope--fearing the worst, but afraid to voice it. Suddenly, you gasped for air, bolting upright as you sucked in gulps of oxygen. Dean ran to you, breaking free of his brother's relaxed grip--not giving a damn if he was allowed to enter the room or not.
He dropped to his knees beside you, reaching out to grab your face. "(Y/N)? Sweetheart, can you hear me?"
Your eyes met his and his breath caught in his chest. Those sweet (y/e/c) eyes he loved so much were full of recognition--full of love. "Dean," you whispered hoarsely.
He wrapped you in a hug so tightly you thought he might squeeze every ounce of air from your lungs, but you couldn't be bothered to care. You were squeezing him back just as tightly, feeling at home in his arms.
He leaned back to look at your face again, brushing your hair back to see you more clearly. He hadn't realized how different you'd looked when your memories were gone--not until this moment. As he looked at you, he noticed all the little things he hadn't taken the time to pay attention to before. Your skin seemed to glow with love and warmth, your eyes sparkled more brilliantly than they had in the past few days, and your smile was bright enough to pierce through any darkness.
"Baby?" he asked tentatively, needing to hear the confirmation from your lips.
"I remember," you whispered softly, leaning forward to brush your lips against his.
He wrapped his arms around you again, tugging you close, and kissing you with as much passion as he could muster. The moment was so pure, so full of love, that both Sam and Bethelia were moved by it. The love the two of you shared was beyond what an average person would ever experience--incomprehensible to most.
When you finally separated, Dean leaned his forehead against yours. "You scared me for a minute," he admitted.
"I told you I'd be okay," you murmured. "Have a little faith, my love."
He smiled. "God I missed you."
"I missed you too."
Dean finally pulled away from you and rose to his feet. He took your hand in his and helped you up, your body still weak from the intensity of the spell.
You smiled warmly at the two people standing a few feet away. "Hey Sammy. Miss me?"
Sam grinned and stepped forward to wrap you in a hug. "Of course I did."
When he stepped back, you addressed Bethelia. "I can't thank you enough."
Bethelia smiled and gestured between you and Dean. "This right here? This is thanks enough. It has been a long time since I've witnessed a love this pure. I feel honored to have been able to witness it again."
You looked up at Dean as he smiled down at you. He kissed your forehead and you leaned into him. "I feel honored to be able to experience it--especially knowing what it's like to live without it."
"I know the feeling," he murmured.
"Not to bring the mood down, but I remember what happened in Colorado," you said softly.
Sam and Dean looked at you, both waiting to hear what you recalled.
"I saw you on the floor--unconscious--and I let my guard down. I was terrified you were dead...that's when she got me."
"The witch," Dean stated quietly.
You nodded. "She knew my name--knew yours too. All she told me was she wanted you to pay. She didn't explain what she meant."
"Why the hell did she target you if she wanted me to pay?"
"She had to have known what losing me would do to you--that it would hurt you more deeply than anything she could ever have done to you directly."
Dean felt a mixture of sorrow and anger. No one was going to get away with hurting you, not as long as he drew breath.
"All I remember after that was the pain...so much pain. Then I woke up in a house in a city I've never lived in before with a whole life I didn't remember. But as far as I was concerned, that was my life. It felt so real--up until the day you waltzed in."
Dean reached out and touched your face. "Anyone who dares hurt you is destined for a short life."
You'd known he'd want to kill the witch, and to be honest, you didn't blame him. Hunting monsters was your life--and this witch certainly counted as one. "We'll find her Dean."
"Damn right we will. I'll put a bullet right through her skull. See how she likes having her mind messed with."
You placed a gentle hand to your husband's arm, trying to calm him. "For now, let's just focus on the good things. I have my memories back and I'm with you. That's what matters."
Dean nodded and offered you a weak smile. "You're right, baby. You're right."
You turned to Bethelia with a smile, thanking her once again, as did Sam and Dean. You were surprised when Dean gave the witch a hug--he wasn't an affectionate man by nature, especially with strangers, but she'd saved your life in his estimation...so she got a pass.
"You're the only witch I've ever liked," Dean commented as the three of you prepared to leave.
Bethelia laughed. "There are others like me out there, I can assure you. We're not all monsters, hunter."
Dean nodded. "Perhaps not."
You grabbed his hand and tugged it gently as you started toward the Impala. "Come on, handsome. It's time to go."
The three of you piled into the car, waving goodbye to Bethelia as you pulled away.
"I'm so ready to go home," you mumbled with a yawn.
"Me too, baby."
"Me three," Sam added.
"Do you want to stop at a motel to rest?" you asked softly.
Dean's gaze rested on your face, drinking it in like he was scared he'd forget it. "Not a chance, sweetheart. I wanna get you home as quickly as possible."
The hungry look in his eyes belied his hidden meaning and you silently hoped Sam didn't notice. "Try not to drive too fast," you teased.
"I would never," he said in mock offense. He pressed firmly on the accelerator and the Impala shot down the road at an assuredly illegal speed.
You laughed and shook your head, knowing full-well Dean would get you home in one piece, even if it was a little faster than it should be.
**********
Fourteen hours later, you were back home in your beloved bunker in Lawrence, Kansas. What should have taken nearly sixteen hours, was shortened by Dean's intense desire to get home.
"Oh I missed this place," you said with a smile as you entered.
"You didn't even remember it existed until a few hours ago," Dean chided.
"I missed it without even knowing what I was missing...kinda like I missed you," you teased back.
He smiled, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist. "Not nearly as much as I missed you."
You leaned back into him. "That could be because you actually remembered me."
"There's not a chance in hell I could forget you." He pressed gentle kisses to your neck down to your shoulder.
"As happy as I am to have you back," Sam interrupted. "Could you two get a room?" His voice was light and teasing, which made you laugh.
"Oh come on, Sammy--it's nothing you haven't seen before," Dean said with a grin. "Just a man loving his gorgeous wife."
Sam rolled his eyes affectionately. "I'll go get my noise canceling headphones. You two have fun getting reacquainted."
You watched Sam walk off towards his bedroom, a small smile playing on your face.
"So you think we should get...reacquainted?" Dean murmured against the shell of your ear.
"Aren't you exhausted from all the driving?"
"I'm never too tired for you, baby."
You turned around to face him, leaning into his strong body. "I think you should take me to bed then, Mr. Winchester."
"It would be my pleasure, Mrs. Winchester." Dean slipped his arms under your round bottom, lifting you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. He held you closely as he carried you towards your shared bedroom.
As he made his way to your room, you spent every second pressing kisses to his face sweetly, tangling your fingers in his short hair.
"You better stop that or I might take you right here on the table," he growled lowly.
"It's not like we haven't before," you giggled.
Dean groaned. "I don't wanna scar Sam for life--otherwise, I'd have you on every surface in this damn bunker."
"Maybe later then," you murmured as you kissed his neck affectionately.
Dean moved more quickly, the need to get you into his bed becoming overwhelming. As soon as he made it into the bedroom, he kicked the door closed, pressing you against it as he attached his lips to yours hungrily.
You gasped slightly before returning his passionate kiss. You tugged on his jacket, silently begging him to remove it. He pulled away just long enough to rip his jacket and flannel off before kissing you again.
His strong hands slid up under your shirt, moving upwards to tug it off over your head. His lithe fingers unsnapped your bra with practiced ease and pulled it forward to reveal the swell of your breasts.
"I've missed these," he murmured, lips immediately finding their home between the valley of your breasts. He took his time nipping and sucking at each one, playing with your nipples just the way you liked.
Your fingers dug into his scalp as you held him close to you, reveling in the feeling of his lips on your body. Your core pulsed with aching need, but you ignored it as best you could. You didn't want to rush him...not after all this time apart.
Dean loved how soft you felt against his toned form--he couldn't describe how much he'd missed touching you so intimately. This wasn't the first time the two of you had been torn apart from each other, but it had been the toughest time for him.
He felt your soft hands clutching at his shirt, desperate to remove it. Dean smirked against your skin before turning around and tossing you onto the bed. He tugged his shirt off over his head and threw it across the room, giving you a clear view of his impressive torso.
He started to climb onto the bed, but you stopped him. "Pants too, please."
He chuckled. "Impatient, are we?"
You shook your head. "I just want to see your perfect body on display--just for me."
He raised his eyebrows, but did as you asked, removing his pants slowly, eyes locked on yours.
You could see his hard member straining against his boxers, practically begging to be touched. You crawled across the bed, coming closer to him, eyes trained on your target.
"Whatcha doin' baby?"
Your eyes flicked up to meet his, tongue darting out to dampen your lips. "Wanna taste you."
Dean exhaled sharply, but there was no way he was going to say no to your request. He watched as you rolled over onto your back, head hanging off the edge of the bed. His breath caught in his chest as he realized your intentions. "You sure?" he whispered.
You grinned cheekily. "Come on pretty boy--use me."
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, quickly ridding himself of his last article of clothing. He gripped his large cock tightly in his right hand and stepped forward. He tapped against your mouth gently. "Open wide, sweetheart."
You happily obliged, mouth opening as wide as you could to accommodate his size. He slid slowly into your warm, wet mouth, groaning softly at the feeling.
You made a little noise of pleasure, wrapping your hands around his muscular thighs to get more comfortable and pull him even closer to you.
Dean's motions started out slow, but he quickly lost himself in the feeling of you, listening to the delicious sounds you were making. Within moments, he'd begun fucking your face properly, obscene sounds escaping his lips.
"Fuck--that's it baby. S-so good for me."
You moaned happily, fingers digging into his skin as you continued to take him deep in your throat. He leaned forward to grab at your breasts, massaging them and pinching your nipples as he thrust, which only increased your enjoyment.
Dean felt his orgasm quickly approaching, but he wasn't ready to cum just yet. He eased his cock out of your mouth and took a step back, chuckling softly at your whine.
"Don't worry, baby--I'm nowhere near done." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your messy lips before rising back up to his full height. "Get comfortable, sweetheart--it's my turn."
You quickly rotated your body so your head rested comfortably on the pillows at the head of the bed. Dean wasted no time joining you on the bed, quickly unsnapping your jeans before pulling them off along with your panties.
He wedged himself between your legs, lowering himself to lie flat on the bed. He inhaled deeply, face mere inches from your aching pussy.
"You smell delicious, baby--can't wait to taste you."
Dean's tongue slipped out of his mouth, running a thick stripe up your pussy before sliding between your lips to begin his assault.
Your hips shot off the bed, causing Dean to lay his arm across your abdomen to hold you in place. He didn't want you to be able to squirm away while he gave you as much pleasure as he could.
Your fingers entwined in his hair as he ate you out like it was the last thing he'd ever do. It felt so incredibly good and your moans of pleasure spurred him on.
"D--feels s-so good."
He moaned into your core, the vibrations making you cry out in pleasure. He sped up his ministrations, years of practice with you making him an expert on your body.
"So close," you whimpered.
Dean slipped two fingers inside of you, curling them to press against your g-spot rapidly. Within moments, your orgasm crashed into you with violent intensity, hips jacking off the bed despite Dean's attempts to hold you in place. He kept up with your movements, not stopping until you pulled him up by his hair.
He licked his lips with a smirk, enjoying the lingering taste of you. His normally bright green eyes were dark with arousal as he looked at your blissed out face. He hovered over you, eyes scanning your face as if to memorize every inch of it, before leaning down to kiss you deeply.
You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer to you. You loved the feeling of his strong body against yours, enjoying the warmth emanating from his heated skin.
"I need you, (Y/N/N)," he whispered against your lips. "Please."
"Wanna feel you inside me, Dean--make me forget my own name."
He growled lowly. "I can do that for you, baby. Only thing you'll be able to say is my name."
You moaned softly, lifting your hips to press against his, earning a sharp inhale from his lips. He slipped his cock in between your folds, entering you completely with one harsh thrust.
You cried out at the feeling of fullness, slight pain mixing with the pleasure. No matter how many times you'd made love to this man, he never failed to make you feel incredible. Every time was like the first time in the first few moments, before quickly morphing into an unforgettable experience with someone who knew your body better than you did.
"Move baby--please," you begged.
He always waited for a few moments, never wanting to cause you any undue pain, but as soon as those words left your mouth, he began to thrust into you in earnest.
"Shit, sweetheart--missed this sweet little pussy. Squeezing me so good, feels like heaven."
"Harder, Dean--please."
Dean shifted his body to give you what you needed, thrusts now deeper and faster than before. His fingers dug into your hips so tightly that bruises were sure to appear.
Your moans reverberated throughout the room, spurring Dean on. His own noises were absolutely sinful--and you loved hearing them. Your nails dug into his muscular back, trying desperately to ground yourself in the sea of pleasure.
You felt your orgasm approaching and you voiced as much to Dean, who was already well-aware.
"Want you to cum for me, baby. I wanna feel you make a mess on my cock."
You whimpered, clinging to him tightly as he continued his measured thrusts. "Dean..."
"I've got you, gorgeous. Let go for me."
You cried out in pleasure as your second orgasm washed over you, body shaking beneath his, waves of pleasure overwhelming your senses.
Dean worked you through your high, waiting until your body stopped shaking before gently rolling you onto your stomach. You tried to lift your hips to accommodate him, but he gently pressed you back down into the mattress.
"I've got this baby girl, just get comfortable."
He slid into you, laying his body on top of you, covering you like a heated blanket. The angle of his thrusts instantly sent you spiraling--body trembling beneath him.
"Fuck, sweetheart--how's this pussy still so fuckin' tight?" he growled in your ear.
You were clenching him tightly, intense pleasure slamming into your core with each thrust he made. You could hardly breathe--the pleasure already so blinding.
"You're close again, aren't you? I can feel it, baby," Dean murmured against your neck.
You couldn't do anything other than moan and whine as he fucked you deeper into the mattress. He was right--you were on the brink of another blinding orgasm.
"I wanna fill this sweet pussy up, baby--but I can't do that until you cum for me."
You whimpered softly, Dean's thrusts continuing.
"Tell me what you need, sweetheart."
"Don't stop--" you gasped.
Dean continued his motions, not changing a single thing. He knew you were close--all you needed was a little push. His lips were so close to your shoulder, brushing softly against your skin. On a particularly hard thrust, Dean bit into your shoulder blade, drawing a scream of pleasure from your throat as you came around him.
He slowed his motions, not quite ready to cum, but not wanting to stop. He kissed the bite mark gently, making sure you felt his love for you in each kiss.
When you'd come down from your high, Dean eased you onto your back, cock still buried deep inside you. He began slow, gentle thrusts, waiting for you to refocus on him.
After several moments, your eyes finally met his and he smiled warmly. "There you are."
"Dean..." you whispered.
"I'm right here, baby."
"Want you to fill me up," you begged softly.
Dean groaned. "You keep squeezing me and looking at me like that and I'm a goner."
You gave him a weak smile and clenched your pussy as tightly as you could. He gasped softly, hips stuttering slightly.
"Cum for me, Dean--please."
"Gonna f-fill you up, baby...s-so close."
You wrapped your weak legs around him, holding him against you. You placed a gentle palm against his cheek, forcing him to continue looking at your loving expression.
His thrusts had become sloppy and his breathing labored. A few more thrusts and he exploded inside of you, cries of pleasure leaving his lips as he filled you up. His spend leaked out of you as his thrusts began to slow to a halt, lips pressing into your sweaty skin in gentle kisses.
"I love you," he whispered repeatedly. "So, so much."
Finally, Dean collapsed on top of you, softening member still inside of you. The two of you laid like that for several minutes, entangled together comfortably. You held him tightly, almost afraid to let go.
Dean slowly began to lift himself off of you, leaving you cold and empty. You whimpered softly, reaching for him as he got off the bed.
He turned to you and smiled. "I'm coming right back, baby. I promise."
He moved slowly towards the sink in the corner of the room before returning with a warm, wet washcloth to clean your mixed spends from between your legs. Each touch made you shiver, but his gentle voice grounded you.
"I've got you, baby. Almost done."
Once he'd finished, he tossed the washcloth across the room before crawling back into bed with you. He laid down beside you and tugged you into him. You angled your body to lay your head on his chest.
The two of you laid in silence for so long you began to wonder if he'd fallen asleep. He had to be tired after that drive and the exertion of your love making, so you didn't blame him.
Just as you began to drift off to sleep yourself, you heard Dean's soft voice. âBabe? Can I ask you something?â
âOf course,â you said softly.
âDo you want that normal, apple pie kinda life?â
You laughed quietly, shaking your head against his chest. âAbsolutely not."
âReally? Not even a little?â
You looked up at him, expression softening. âNot even a little. I happen to love our life. I love living in a weird underground bunker. I love driving all over godâs green earth in our ancient Impala. I love staying in seedy motels and eating shitty diner food. I love saving people and hunting monsters. Do you know why?â
He shook his head.
âBecause I get to do it all with you.â
He smiled at you, gaze exceptionally tender.
âI couldnât ask for anything better than this beautiful, messy life of ours.â
He leaned in to kiss you sweetly. âI love you so damn much, baby.â
âI love you too, Dean Winchester. Always.â
You settled back against his warm chest, listening to the solid beating of his heart. You knew tomorrow would bring another battle, another problem to solve, but for right now, you were exactly where you needed to be--in the arms of the man you loved with all your soul, feeling safe and loved...finally home.
#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x wife!reader#dean winchester x reader smut#dean winchester smut#supernatural smut
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âA Cry from Ahmadâs Heart: My Mother is Suffering, and I Am Helplessâ
âMy name is Ahmad, and I used to believe that no matter how hard life gets, it would still carry us through. But today, I feel like everything around me is falling apart. My mother is very illâher body is frail, and her pain never leaves her. I stand helpless before her, searching for medicine to ease her suffering, but I canât find any.
Iâm sick too, but my illness has become the last thing on my mind. How can I think of myself when my mother is withering away day by day? The war has taken everything from us. It stole our home, our safety, and even our health. We live each day strugglingâno food to sustain us, no medicine to heal us, and no life to live. If you can hear my voice, please⌠help me treat my mother. Help me find a glimmer of hope in this dark life.â this is his gofundme. Please donate at least 115 SEK!!!!! KEEP THE EXCHANGE RATE IN MIND thats only 10$! https://chuffed.org/project/help-ahmed-alashi
vetted by : @90-ghost @bilal-salah0 This campaign #152 on Butterfly Effect Project vetted list!
If you can hear my voice, please⌠help me treat my mother. Help me find a glimmer of hope in this dark life.â
@omegaversereloaded @noble-kale @paparoach @butterflyfritillary @galactic-mermaid @neptunerings @comrademango @myceliacrochet @irangp @girlinafairytalelovestory @heritageposts @nabulsi27 @aflamethatneverdies @meshitsukai @gatorinanicesuit @saesyndrome @yakourinka @theyaoiconnoisseur @shineypebble @meatcute @operationladybug @saintverse @septiphadrean @imjustheretotrytohelp @stupidpop @pathogenic @fuyuno-neko @gakupo @fearfylsymmetry @clamorybus @rhubarbspring @marsmartens @femmefitz @cecropia-moff @somewhatlargerobot @iamabrokentooth @unwinni3 @earthyumgiggles @2spirit-0spoons-deactivated2024 @dirhwangdaseul @palhelp @tiredguyswag @heliopixels @lesbianmaxevans @spaghettioverdose
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Can you pls write period sex with Ghost đđĽ°đĽ°
heheheh period sex is a fave to me!!!! I hope u enjoy anon <333
CW: Period sex, blood
Simon was desperate to put you out of your glum misery, the pout of your lip and the flair of your brows as you kneeled over in pain only urged him on more as he furiously tapped into his phone ways to help with period cramps.
He had tried everything; a hot water bottle, a nice bath, tea, massages. It all just left you feeling too hot or overwhelmed and never seemed to subside the internal torment of your belly.
Brown eyes widened slightly as he took in the word âsexâ blurted as 1) on some shitty magazine website. Pupils flickered between each line taking in how âmaking loveâ was a great way to ease period cramps.
It was a tender subject while you were menstruating, Simonâs body timid as he approached your skulking figure.
âBaby, Iâve been doing research on how to help with your period cramps and Iâm willing to try it if you want too?â
âMmmm⌠Si, no more home remedies⌠what is it?â
âFucking.â
Your eyes looked at his, face tense as you checked for a joking smirk but your boyfriend only just stared at you, holding his phone up to show he was being truthful.
âYou want to⌠fuck? Me? While Iâm on my period?â
Simon nodded, almost hesitantly as he heard the unsureness in your tone. You blinked.
âWhat if it grosses you out? Or smells? Or looks weird? Or you get chunks on your dick?â
Simon shook his head, a chuckle leaving his throat as he leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on your hairline.
âIâve seen every bit of you. Nothing would gross me out. Itâs completely natural, love. Besides, I see blood too often, feels like second nature to me now.â
Your body was rigid as you laid awkwardly on a towel, your thighs widened as Simon took in the sight of you. He licked his chapped lips, taking in the puff of your swollen pussy and the gentle throb of your clit. You had quickly washed yourself before this, incredibly self conscious, even though your boyfriend urged that it wasnât necessary.
Slick pooled at your entrance, the light filter of red hinting through as Simon locked his hips against yours, rubbing the mushroom tip over your wet folds, a moan escaping your mouth as you clutched onto his biceps.
He lined himself against your aching hole, pushing in slightly as you whined before edging himself in inch by inch. It wasnât long until he bottomed out, thick cock filling you to the brim as he began to rock back and forth, kissing your gummy walls with each thrust as you writhed underneath him.
âThatâs it baby, does that feel good?â
You nodded, biting your lip in the process as a hand rubbed down on your belly, pushing slightly as he picked up his pace, thrusting into your wet heat as you mewled.
His shaft was coated in your slick and a light dribble of blood, the metallic taste in the air sending something carnal through him as he fucked himself into you at a rough pace, his eyes watching the way your breasts jiggled and your face scrunched up in pleasure.
âFuck- Si - so, so good.â
âI know baby, just needed me to fuck you silly to feel better.â
You felt aligned with him as he ached his member into you before spilling his delectable seed into your fertile cunt.
Spoiler alert, you didnât get a period for 9 months after this. Seemed to help your cramping problem.
#evilgwrl#call of duty x reader#141 x reader#simon riley#ghost smut#ghost#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost x reader#simon riley fluff#simon ghost smut#simon riley smut#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#ghost call of duty
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thinkin about toji who forcefully bent you over his lap because you've been a brat !! hes so big n mean it's scary !!
âya better shut yer trap unless you want it tâ hurt even worse.â
you mewl into his thick thigh, tears bleeding through the fabric of his cotton pants.
you regret the smart remarks you snapped back at your boyfriend, constantly correcting him all day, and getting on his last and final nerve.
which led you here, bent over tojiâs lap with a heavy hand on your shoulder, and another heavy fucking hand on the fat of your ass.
âya fuckin like this donât ya? look, your stupid cuntâs all wet.â
he plunges his fingers inside your soaked pussy, pulling out quicker than you can gasp. youâre inaudible, face still planted in the fat of his thigh as you hold onto him for leverage.
another harsh hand lands on your ass, this time it follows with a soft rub to ease the pain.. which is when you feel your own slick being rubbed onto your asscheek.
âface me and answer.â
ân-no..! m-m sorry, toji, i.. m-â
you sniffled, hoping the man would take any sort of mercy on you. hoping your whiny whimpers would allow his heart to soften for you, and to end your punishment a bit earlier.
âs too bad, ya got more comin for ya.â
bonus :3
after, he carries your over exerted body to the shower, placing you on top of his lap as the warm water hits your body. you face him as he helps you clean off, peppering kisses over your face. though itâs quiet, you feel his love through his acts of service.
he dresses you in one of his huge shirts and into a pair of your shorts, placing you in bed before using his huge cold hand as a cold compress to reduce the burning on your ass.. hehe
#jjk#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#toji fushiguro smut#fushiguro toji x reader#toji x you#toji smut#jujutsu toji#jjk toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji zenin#toji fluff#drabbles ââ
Ëâ#requests ŕ Ë. áľáľ
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Iâm such a crybaby because Iâd be sobbing my eyes out if the angst dukedom!ah shit happened to me
Kyle hearing the duchess crying in her room so he lingers near the door but doesnât know how to even approach her :(((((
Same honestly đ
Dukedom au masterlist
Kyle hearing you cry in your room, aware that you must be so⌠alone. Alone and cold because he knows none of the maids had bothered to prepare your room for winter and you couldnât even ask any of them to even tell you where the thicker linens and softer pillows are.
His guilt festers like an open wound, each muffled sob from behind your door a twist of the knife. Heâs supposed to be the head butler, the one who ensures every guestâs comfort- yours included regardless of his own feelings- but heâs failed you. The other servants followed his lead, and his silent disdain for you has been their permission to mistreat you. He knows better now, but knowing doesnât ease the shame that burns his throat when he finally orders the maids to prepare your room properly. He doesnât tell them why. He canât admit heâs started to care.
Simon just silently watching you struggle to pull a book out of the library shelves because your dress was not made for climbing ladders, and the servants working there ignored you and pretended they had something else to do when you asked for their help. Something in him quietly aches when he sees your shoulders slump, giving up on getting that book.
He watches you more often than heâd like to admit, truthfully. Itâs not just the way your frustration lingers when no one helps you, or the resigned sigh you give when youâre ignored. Itâs the quiet dignity with which you endure it all. He sees it in the way you straighten your back even as you, at last, leave the library empty-handed, and something in him twists painfully. He hates how much heâs beginning to admire your strength, And yet, he still says nothing. For now, all he can do is quietly place the book you wanted on your desk later that night, hoping youâll understand what he canât yet say.
Johnny just staring at the many mugs of tea and hot drinks heâd made, meant to soothe after such a cold day of hardworking for everyone. A treat from him, a little gift. Heâs even made a cup for you and yet⌠he says nothing when a maid he knows already had hers takes it. Yet the regret he feels when he catches you later that night warming some water on the stove, thinner than is healthy, is something fierce and sharp. He still says nothing, words at the tip of his tongue yet unable to come out.
Still, Johnny canât stop thinking about the cup of tea. It wasnât just a drink- it was the smallest gesture of warmth he could have saved and offered you, and heâd let it slip through his fingers. He doesnât even know why he made it for you in the first place, why he bothered when resentment was easier. But seeing you at the stove, cheeks hollow and shoulders hunched, a spark of defiance in the way you warmed your own water despite everything- it broke something in him. Later, heâll leave a bowl of warm stew and a fresh loaf of bread outside your door, too ashamed to knock but desperate to ease the hunger he knows must gnaw at you.
John canât even look at you. If he does, he will be reminded of the one night he allowed himself to see you. Not just as the intruder he once thought you were, but as a woman trying to survive in a world that seemed determined to keep you on your knees. He remembers the soft tremble in your voice when you thanked him for a kindness so small it was almost cruel- handing you a coat left in the drawing room after everyone had gone. You wore it like armor, though it was far too big, and heâd spent the rest of the night cursing himself for the way your gratitude had made his chest ache.
Now, he avoids your gaze because he doesnât know what heâll see. Pain? Loneliness? Or worse, the hope that hasnât yet been extinguished, despite everything. He knows that hope will unravel him if he lets it.
#noona.asks#noona.writes#cod x you#cod#tf 141 x reader#tf 141 x you#tf 141#cod imagines#john price x reader#poly 141 x you#poly!141 x reader#poly 141 x reader#poly!141#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x you#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#johnny soap mctavish x reader#johnny soap mctavish x you#soap x you#soap x reader#kyle gaz garrick x you#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz x you#gaz x reader#cod x reader
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![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/1bff88cd8a48c0ac1365377f90cc6b43/e58d2203ea1d0600-d4/s540x810/46e09eafe9c1d760358f425c881fad257d409b26.jpg)
âtoji doesnât know how to properly give aftercare â nor did he care to do so before. but, meeting you changed his ways of thinking.â
âď¸ď˝toji fushiguro x female reader. suggestive; fluff, comfort, angst. established relationship. hint of an age gap between toji and reader. mention of virgin!reader. mention of tojiâs previous / past wife. grumpy sad dilf toji who learns how to love again t_t. reader gets called âdoll, little girlâ. self indulgent? yessir.
toji grunts and his exhausted body collapses to the side, careful not to crush you underneath his burly figure. he drapes one arm over his eyes with the other resting near his side. his eyelids felt heavy â clearly needing some rest after hours of continuous bodily satisfaction.
he had gone a bit overboard this once. even toji himself was feeling the aftermath since his muscles were aching and his brain was telling him to go to sleep. the assassin was about to, however his ears picked up on a little muffled whimper sounding from beside him.
âmmph,â you sniff. your face was still buried in the pillow below you â your tears and drool staining the material. your limbs were trembling and you were completely and utterly spent. you couldnât even turn around to lay on your back; it was all just too much.
toji watches you with an unchanging expression for a second. normally for him this would be the part where heâd get the money, dress himself back up and leave through the front door with a small âthanks for your timeâ comment.
but, that was his past. that was after the death of his wife and before he had met you â that was a dark time where he sought money in any kind of way to ease the hidden guilt and pain in his body. heâd sleep with women for a pay check. and maybe also to simply forget about his miserable life.
toji thought that he wouldnât ever love himself nor another person again after his life went downhill. though, that thought was proven wrong by you.
you were a girl whom he had met on numerous occasions by accident to the point you decided to exchange phone numbers. you had also eventually started to help toji with his son - megumi - during tough times.
a sweet young woman: thatâs what you were and still are in his eyes. maybe you were the change toji needed. the miracle to heal from his past and get himself together.
âhey,â the dark-haired man speaks up in a gruff tone after taking in your weak state. he felt a faint twinge of guilt deep within him since he was the reason you ended up like that. perhaps he took it too far.
you looked up at toji through half-closed and watery eyes. all you could do was tiredly hum in response, âmhm?â
silence follows. itâs not really awkward, but there was a barely noticeable sense of insecurity radiating from the assassin. for the first time in a good while.
tojiâs eyes dart around the room in hopes of finding or seeing something that would remind him of what to do in such a situation. aftercare; he knew how important that is after sex, but had forgotten how to properly execute it. he hadnât done so in a good few years.
that could also be an excuse. maybe he was simply afraid to show any kind of affection to someone again. maybe.
despite all of it â despite all those complex thoughts and feelings â his body moved on its own command. toji shifted closer to your side, rough hand slowly reaching out to give you some head pats. thatâs the best he could do for now.
âheh.â you chuckle, yet felt extremely happy that toji had shown any type of affection toward you in such a vulnerable moment. his fingers massaging your scalp gently, over and over, was enough of a sign for you. a sign that he cares.
you knew all about his hard life; past and present. you accepted toji for who he was and what he has done and does. one of the only people whoâd stay by his side throughout it all.
âthanks, toji.â the words that left your lips made the older man silently nod. his touch grew a bit more confident after your positive reaction. his hand traveled down to the nape of your neck and over to your shoulder, turning you around so you could lay comfortably on your back.
toji couldnât help but let his eyes wander across your gorgeous skin. even if it was sweaty and covered in other bodily fluids, it still was one of the most beautiful sights he had seen in his entire life.
âyou okay?â he asks to which you give a weary nod. sheâs far from okay judging by the looks of it, toji thought to himself.
he hesitantly leans his head down to plant a quick kiss on your shoulder. that did feel a bit awkward, though it turned loving the more you positively reinforced him with your verbal reactions.
toji sighs as he tries his best to keep you as comfortable as possible around him. his hands grab you by your sides and he hoists you up onto his lap, gently pushing your head against his chest; âcâmere my little girl.â
you happily accept the affection toji gives you. it wasnât often that heâd do this after sex and you understand why. it takes a lot to heal from his previous wounds and you were there to support him throughout that journey. the fact that he was trying was enough.
âyouâre nice ân warm,â you murmur, eyes droopy as you snuggle against tojiâs bare chest. the older man chuckles at your comment and his big hands come to rest on your back to hold you in place â to give you a sense of security.
you didnât have any regrets about tonight nor about any other night spent in bed with him. toji was the only man whom you were content with showing your body to. heâd never judge nor hurt you in any way, unlike the other more immature men in your indirect environment.
plus, you remember how unexpectedly gentle the big and scary looking man was with you during your first time a few days back. he was the perfect man for you in your eyesâin his own way.
âyâr real pretty. like a doll.â
the sudden compliment forces you awake. you blink thrice, trying to make sense of what you had heard. was it your imagination? no, it definitely sounded like toji. that deep and now almost groggy voice.
you lift your head up and lock eyes with the assassin. he was looking right back at you whilst the pad of his thumb delicately wipes some drool off your right cheek. you quietly stared at him for a good while which makes toji raise an eyebrow in confusion.
âpfft.â you let out a short laugh. you were both embarrassed and amused at the loving words that the older man had told you out of the blue. it made you feel tingly all over in a good way.
âwhat? did i say somethinâ weird?â toji questions as his hands slowly roam all over your body like they usually would, squeezing and rubbing longer in some spots, âi jusâ said what i observed.â
there was no hiding that lopsided grin on tojiâs lips. the soft sound of your laughter was enough to make his entire body relax and give in to the warmth of the moment and the love that radiates between you two. you really were meant to be with him.
âno, no.â you shake your head after giggling. your lips find a spot on his chest to place a kiss upon in response, âit was cute.â
toji huffs at being called cute. no one had ever called him that. it didnât really hurt his pride or ego â you could call him anything you wanted to and he wouldnât mind. his rough hand does however give you a light smack on the ass after that.
âyâre lucky i love you, doll.â he grumbles and nuzzles his nose into your hair. the words left his lips before his brain had processed them. it was probably said subconsciously since toji doesnât realise that he uttered the three words. the three words he usually hesitates on saying now flowing off the tongue so naturally.
you werenât going to ruin the moment by teasing him about it. you were just happy that toji didnât think twice before telling you that he loved you this time. it was a huge step forward in your relationship.
you simply giggle some more before placing a kiss on his lips that he instantly reciprocates.
âi love you too, toji.â
#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x reader#jjk fluff#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#toji x you#toji x y/n#toji fluff#toji fushiguro x you
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Hey could you do maybe leclerc sister has appendix all of the sudden and they take her to emergency and maybe is just the recuperation and it scares them family and everything
Of course, I can. Sorry for the long wait but I had a lot to do with school. Enjoy reading and send me some requests!!!
-XoXo
Hospital night's
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The house was quiet, the soft hum of the late-night breeze barely audible through the open windows. It was one of those rare moments when everything felt peaceful. Everyone was sound asleep â Lorenzo in his room, Charles in his, Arthur tucked under his blanket, and their mother softly snoring in her bed. But not everyone was at ease.
In the room at the end of the hall, their little sister, YN, tossed and turned. Her stomach hurt. Not the kind of ache that would go away after a few minutes, but a deep, sharp pain that kept getting worse. She winced, her face scrunching up in discomfort as she pressed her hand to her lower abdomen. The young girl tried to take deep breaths, hoping the pain would pass, but it only intensified, stabbing at her like a knife.
Tears welled up in her eyes as the pain became unbearable. YN whimpered, then groaned aloud, clutching her stomach tightly. She was terrified, and the only thought in her mind was that she needed help â right now.
Without thinking, she pulled herself out of bed and stumbled down the hall. She paused outside Arthurâs door, panting heavily, her hand still pressed against her side. She didnât want to wake anyone, but the pain was too much. She knocked softly at first, but when no response came, she knocked harder, then called out.
âArthur⌠Arthur, pleaseâŚâ Her voice was strained, barely above a whisper, but filled with desperation.
Arthur stirred, groaning as he turned over in bed, blinking groggily. âYN? Whatâs wrong?â he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
But then he saw her. The dim light from the hallway showed her tear-streaked face, her body hunched over in pain, and his heart jumped into his throat. Panic set in instantly.
âYN?!â Arthur bolted upright, scrambling out of bed. âBebe, what happened? Are you okay?â His voice trembled as he rushed to her side.
âI-I donât know,â YN sobbed, clutching her side tighter. âIt hurts so much⌠I donât know whatâs wrong.â
Arthurâs eyes widened in fear. Heâd never seen his sister like this before. Sweat poured down her face, and her breathing was labored. Without another word, Arthur grabbed her hand and started shouting.
âMama! Lorenzo! Charles!â he screamed, his voice echoing down the halls. âHelp! Somethingâs wrong with YN!â
In an instant, the entire house was awake. Footsteps thundered down the hallway, and the first to appear was their mother, still groggy and in her nightgown, but wide-eyed with concern.
âArthur, whatââ Pascale froze when she saw her daughter, her maternal instincts kicking in immediately. She rushed to her daughterâs side, crouching down to her level, brushing the hair away from her damp forehead. âMon dieu, whatâs wrong, ma chĂŠrie? Where does it hurt?â
YNcould only whimper, clutching her stomach harder. âMy stomache⌠It hurts so much, MamaâŚâ
By then, Lorenzo and Charles had appeared, both looking alarmed and confused.
âWhatâs going on?â Lorenzo asked, his face pale as he looked from his sister to his mother and back to Arthur.
âItâs her stomach,â Arthur explained, his voice shaking. âSheâs in so much pain, she woke me up.â
Charles knelt beside YN, his heart racing. âItâs okay, ma puce. Weâre here,â he murmured, his voice steady but laced with worry. âWeâll figure this out, okay? Just breathe.â
But YN couldnât. The pain was unbearable, and tears streamed down her cheeks as she gasped for air.
âWe need to take her to the hospital,â Pascale said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. âThis isnât normal.â
âHospital? Now?â Arthurâs voice cracked. He was terrified.
âYes, Arthur, now,â Lorenzo replied, already grabbing his phone and car keys. âWe canât wait.â
Within minutes, they had bundled YN into the car, her head resting on her motherâs lap as she groaned softly, her hand still clutching her side. Charles sat beside her, holding her hand tightly, while Arthur sat in the passanger seat, his wide eyes filled with panic.
The drive felt like an eternity. Each minute seemed to drag on as YNâs soft cries filled the car. Every time she whimpered in pain, Arthurâs stomach flipped. He kept looking at Charles and Lorenzo, hoping one of them would say something to make it better, but no one spoke.
When they finally arrived at the hospital, the nurses quickly took YN into a room, and a doctor came to examine her.
"Ma'am, we're going to have to take her in for some tests," the doctor said calmly, though the look in his eyes was serious. "It could be her appendix. We need to confirm, but we may have to perform surgery right away."
"Surgery?" Arthur nearly choked on the word, his eyes widening. He turned to Charles. "Surgery? But she was fine earlier todayâŚ"
Charles clenched his jaw, his mind racing. âTheyâll fix her. We have to trust them.â
Their mother nodded, though her face was pale. âTheyâll do everything they can, Arthur,â she said softly, brushing a strand of hair from YNâs face as the nurses wheeled her away toward the emergency room.
The waiting was agonizing. Arthur couldnât sit still, pacing back and forth, biting his nails. Lorenzo kept his arms crossed, staring blankly at the hospital floor. Charles sat quietly, his leg bouncing up and down nervously, his eyes glued to the door they had taken their little sister through.
âWhat if something goes wrong?â Arthur whispered after what felt like hours. âWhat if⌠What if sheââ
âShe wonât,â Charles interrupted, his voice tight. âSheâs strong. Sheâll be okay.â
But the truth was, Charles wasnât sure. None of them were.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the doctor came out, pulling off his gloves. âThe surgery went well,â he said, offering a small smile. âHer appendix had ruptured, but we were able to remove it in time. Sheâll need to rest, but sheâs going to be okay.â
A wave of relief crashed over them, and Arthur felt his legs go weak as he sank into a chair, covering his face with his hands. Charles let out a long breath, his shoulders sagging, while Lorenzo placed a hand over his heart, as if steadying his rapid pulse.
âThank you,â Pascale said, tears of gratitude in her eyes. âCan we see her?â
âSheâs just waking up from the anesthesia. She might be a bit groggy, but yes, you can see her now,â the doctor replied.
The brothers practically ran to her room, their mother following behind. When they stepped inside, YN was lying in bed, her face pale but peaceful, her eyes fluttering open as she blinked at them.
âHey,â she whispered, her voice hoarse.
âBebe!â Arthur rushed to her side, his eyes wide with concern. âYou scared the hell out of us!â
Lorenzo chuckled weakly. âYou have no idea how panicked we were.â
Charles sat on the edge of her bed, his hand gently brushing her hair back. âYou okay now?â
She nodded slowly, a small, tired smile forming on her lips. âIâm okay,â she whispered. âI feel⌠better.â
The boys immediately went into full protective mode. Lorenzo disappeared for a moment and returned with a bowl of soup from the hospital cafeteria. âHere, you need to eat something,â he said softly, holding the spoon up to her lips as she took small sips.
Charles shifted behind her, gently easing her back against his chest. âJust rest,â he murmured, running his fingers through her hair, his usual confident demeanor replaced with quiet tenderness. âWeâre not going anywhere.â
Arthur, still shaken but wanting to do something to make her feel better, grabbed a small bottle of nail polish from her bag. âIâm gonna paint your nails, okay? Youâll look fabulous when you get out of here,â he said, trying to sound cheerful, though his hands were trembling.
YN giggled weakly. âYouâre all ridiculous,â she muttered, but her heart swelled with love for her older brothers.
Their mother sat beside the bed, her voice soft as she opened YNâs favorite book, Le Petit Prince. âLetâs read a little, hmm? Just like we used to.â
As her mother began reading, the soft, familiar words filling the room, YN let her eyes close, her brothers and mother surrounding her with love. She felt safe. She felt cared for. And despite the pain, despite the fear, she knew she would be okay.
With her head resting on Charlesâ chest, her nails being painted by Arthur, soup being spoon-fed by Lorenzo, and her motherâs gentle voice reading her favorite story, YN smiled.
Her family would always be there for her, no matter what.
#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#arthur leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x reader#lorenzo leclerc x reader#leclerc!reader#appendix#-xoxo#xoxo babygirl đ
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Good Looking
pairing: opla!sanji x reader
summary: your plan was quick and simple. you would go to the kitchen, make some tea to ease your headache, and then return to your comfy bed. you weren't expecting to come across your crew's blonde cook barechested cutting carrots.
word count: 3.1k
warnings: 18+ content, smut, swearing, pet names, kitchen sex, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, cunnilingus, semi public sex, PIV
authors note: english is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes. read this fanfic on ao3: good looking. enjoy!
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You are used to this. The utterly exhausted sensation after several hand-to-hand combats, so when the headache started when you finally lay down in bed, you just decided to ignore it; the sleep would catch up before it got.
Until the needed sleep never got you. So, after an hour or two of rubbing your temples and staring at the ceiling while feeling envy-induced annoyance for Namiâs peaceful breathing, you pushed yourself to stand up.
Even if the cool night air almost makes you wish you hadn't left your warm bed, you needed that green tea to stop the pounding headache in the back of your head. The kitchen lights shining through the window went undetected as your mind was busy figuring out how you could prepare the drink quickly so that the pain could cease as soon as possible.
âOh, itâs you, darling. Is everything alright?â As you walked into the door and recognized Sanji's words, you snapped out of your thoughts and began to look over your surroundings. He was not wearing any type of shirt while he sliced carrots from behind the counter.
Barechested. Topless. Half naked.
âY-yes, I mean, no. Just a headache.â You gaze the blonde in the eyes as you stumble through your sentences, you are merely vaguely aware that your face is beginning to turn red. âI just want that green tea, I know it's somewhere around here. I saw Nami storing it in the cabinets earlier.â
You felt foolish. You became used to seeing shirtless men given that you lived in the middle of the ocean and therefore often came across Luffy, Usopp, and even Zoro barechested. They would often walk around the deck that way on hot days. Sanji, however, always showed up in a suit or, at the very least, had a formal shirt rolled up to his elbows. Even so, there was no chance of seeing him dressed otherwise since he went to sleep after you and woke up before everyone.
âI can do it for you, itâs my job after all, taking care of my sweet girl.â He placed the knife down, threw the chopped carrots in a nearby pot, and proceeded to go through the cupboards. âLove, do you remember where she stored it? There are plenty of cabinets in this place.â
"What are you doing here?" You instantly regret your tone as you noted Sanji just froze in his search.
âI mean, sorry, the kitchen is your place, I know. I just never saw you here this hour, and me and Luffy go here to do midnight snacks sometimesâ
âI could not sleepâ
âMe tooâ Once again, an irrational remark. He was informed that you were having trouble falling asleep, that's why you were there. âWhy the carrots?â
âThe attack that happened today. I had hoped for more food, but I believe you are aware of how fucked our situation is.â He continued looking for the tea while chuckling flatly. âWe don't know when we will receive more supplies; we right now have barely anything stocked. Even the carrot peels have been put to use in an effort to reduce waste, you know.â
You weren't sure how to respond. It was clear that everyone's mood was negatively affected by today's incident. The worry of what would happen in the next few days or weeks was filling your head since Usopp managed to escape the ship. His back was to you, so you were unable to see his facial expressions, but you couldn't help but notice his muscles.
You felt a little guilty since you couldn't take your focus away from it, despite him having just voiced some serious concern. Has he lately started working out, or has he always had muscles like that?
âAre you and Luffy close then?â
The sudden break in silence confused you as he turned toward you with the pot of tea in his hands and a pleased smile.
âI suppose so. After all, he was the one who invited me to join the crew, right?â You smirked at the thought. It wasn't much timeâperhaps a few monthsâand you were losing track of time at sea. âI fearlessly agreed to become a pirate, although I had never spent more than two weeks on a boat.â
âI remember that. You were so naiveâ
Of course he remembers. When you joined the crew, it was very easy to have a conversation with Sanji, he was constantly complimenting you or flirting in a straightforward manner. You never took him seriously, hearing about the blonde's techniques from Nami from the first day, but it was often hard not to chuckle or blush when he was soâŚ
âNot anymore.â
He grinned at you before returning his attention to the tea. It was impossible to look away from his bare chest. You were unable to rest your mind from imagining how his skin would feel on your hand now that he was in your line of sight. You are already aware that he's a good-looking man, but now seeing more of his body did things to you.
âAll right, madam. Here is your tea.â He circles the counters until he's right next to you. Really close. His eyes twinkle with recklessness, and you know he caught you staring at his figure.
You ignore the tickle in your lower belly as you stand there, grab the mug in your hands, and sip while gazing at his face. He still has that typical smirk, and when you finally finish drinking your tea, he glances at your lips before returning to your eyes. Everything becomes fuzzy and hot then.
He's very close. His hand has been lying on the counter, his chest is nearly brushing your own, and you can't help but notice his modest, almost transparent blonde hair in there. Perhaps it's a sign for you to walk away, that this is going in a dangerous direction, but you can't.
âWhat dear? See something you lik-â
You interrupt him with a kiss. It's all very messy and quick, and he is unable to have time to handle everything. You come to an abrupt halt and stare at him with wide eyes, realizing what you have done.
âSanji, fuck, Iâm so sorry, I didnât meant t-â
He didn't let you finish the apologies. His hand pulls your head back, bringing your lips together. The kiss looks right now. It begins carefully, with both sides cautious, but it quickly gets heated as he doesn't hesitate to push his tongue into your mouth.
Youâre breathless when he finally pulls away, and his eyes are hungry. He didn't think twice before pressing his open mouth and tongue on your neck. A moan escapes from your lips.
His left hand shifts down to grab your hip, and you catch your breath. Your hands graze his nipples as you reach for his pecs, and he hisses at the fresh sensation in your throat.
âGods Y/N, youâre going to kill me this wayâ
You chuckled, and he kissed you again, although this time you took charge, moving one of your hands to his blonde hair before tilting his head to grant you more access. You stop the action just to take a moment to recover and gaze into his dilated pupils. He looks so attractive like that that you canât help but want to go down on him.
âSanji,â You whisper breathlessly, enjoying the sensation of his name in your mouth, âlet me taste you.â
He groans in response, which you take as encouragement as you lean down and proceed. You lick and kiss the trail that leads to his crotch, and he hisses softly, his abdomen tense beneath your hands and mouth. As you get down on your knees and look at his pants, you can see his erection, which seems big and marked.
You don't hesitate to pull down the waistband of his pants and boxers together, exposing his hard, leaking cock to your eyes. It's big. It's more than you expected. There's a buildup of cum at the head, and you reach forward and wrap your lips around it, licking gently just to tease.
You look up as you swirl your tongue over the tip and dip your tongue into the slit to see him biting his lower lips, his head thrown back. You wanted to see his face while sucking him. So you take him out of your mouth and cautiously wrap a hand around him, teasing him a little with your hand. Your movements are agonizingly slow as you lightly suck and lick the sensitive head until finally he looks down.
âOh, darling, youâre so pretty like that.â Sanji whined above you, and then your mouth opened around the head of his cock, and he slid it into your mouth. âFuck, fuck. So⌠so perfect.â
You can clearly see the blonde struggling to keep his composure, like how his knuckles are white while gripping the counter behind him. You relax your throat, take a long breath through your nose, and exhale slowly before swallowing him whole while gripping his inner thighs.
His penis is large, so the initial sensation isn't the most pleasant, but as he lets out a loud groan, you forget about everything. Something about hearing Sanji whine in the kitchen while you gagged on his cock made the aching between your legs unbearable.
"Oh yeah, You are so good to me. Your mouth feels so good in me.â
You moaned softly at his words of praise, making vibrations around his penis, causing another moan from him. His left hand reached from the counter to your hair, and you didn't reject the help while bobbing your head up and down.
âMy love, you are so perfec-â
A few tears occasionally escaped as you sucked him and he fucked your throat, sometimes only taking him out to run your tongue along his length. You started to see signs that he was close to cum. One of your hands left the thighs to rub his balls.
 âI⌠I'm going to cum, Y/N, dear... I" He gives you a chance to pull away from him, but you choose to continue and accept it all. You remove the entire length of his throat and leave just the head in your mouth.
He comes soon after, with a muffled groan, while you attempt to swallow as much as you can before it gets difficult, followed by a satisfied moan coming from you.
You felt his hand leave your hair, and for two or three minutes, you just remained there. He has his head back and is trying to catch his breath while you are on your knees, glancing at his chest and the beads of sweat gathering on his neck. Itâs a perfect vision, honestly. You ponder whether he would notice if you began to masturbate right then.
âCome on, madam, let me help you up.â Sanji extends his hand to support you in getting up, and once you are upright, he grabs hold of your waist to keep you close to him.
He kisses you, tasting himself in your mouth. It's slow, and you realize he's still trying to emerge from his afterglow. When he breaks the kiss, that smile returns to his face, and you peck him once more just to get rid of it.
Sanji deepened the kiss again. And fuck, what else could you do but reply in the same aggressive way?
You're hoisted up by the hands on your hips and thrown onto the counter. The blonde is now between your legs, breaking the kiss, only to go straight to that specific spot on your neck that you're almost certain will leave a mark in the morning.
âOh- Sanji,â You try to speak breathlessly as he licks your collarbone and his fingers brush the hem of your t-shirt, âYou donât h-have to do that.â
It wasn't that you didn't want Sanji. Since you entered that kitchen and spotted him without a shirt, you wanted this. Yet, you took the decision to give him an opportunity to back out, be thankful for the blowjob, and never bring up the matter again. Him taking you would be very personal.
âPlease, my love,â You can hear the yearning in his voice as he whispers in your ear. âI just want to make you feel good too.â
You nod, and he attacks your mouth once again while his hands pull the hem of your t-shirt, exposing your chest, and you can't stop yourself from moaning at being so bare to him.
He doesn't think twice about placing his mouth on your breasts as he rolls the hard bud between his teeth and tongue and gives the other one a gentle stroke with his other hand. He bites your nipple as your head is flung back, and all you can do is pray that no one hears your loud scream.
He takes his mouth from your breasts and begins a trail down your stomach, and you can't stop whining due to the lack of warm sensation from his tongue in your niples, but you quickly figure out where he's headed as he lowers himself between your thighs.
He doesn't ask for permission as he aggressively rips off your shorts and, along with them, your underwear, revealing your pussy to him. He pulled your hips closer and dragged a finger down your folds, then placed it inside his mouth.
"Oh, you're so soaking wet, just for me, hm?" You are so stunned by the sight that you hardly pay attention to what the blonde is saying. âYou taste so good, my darling.â
You stand on your elbows and glance at the man who is standing in between your legs. You can't help but gasp at the taunting as he starts giving you small small bites and kisses along your inner thighs. But you want him now.
âOh Sanji, stop teasing for fuc-â
He didn't wait for you to finish the curse word before burying his face, pushing his tongue against your wet pussy, and licking a long, temptingly slow strip through your folds until he reached your sensitive bud.
In an attempt to create more friction, you thrust your hips into his mouth, and your left hand immediately settled on his blonde hair. Sanji found the ideal pattern to swirl his tongue over your clitoral region, leaving you panting for air.
He pushed two fingers deep within you, and you felt your walls clenching around them, sucking him in. His pace was fast, and he was still paying careful attention to your clit, leaving you close to the edge. You were a mess, and it wouldn't take long for you to cum. Yet you still needed him; you wanted more.
You sucked in a sharp breath and tried to block out the inappropriate sounds echoing through the kitchen.
âSanji, p-please moreâ
"Use your words, my angel." You could see the glistening fluids from your pussy plastered on his chin when he pushed his head off of your thighs. âWhat do you want?â
âFuck me, oh g-gods. I need you inside me." At your words, he groaned and took both of his fingers out to direct his cock at your entrance.
It wasn't difficult for him to enter since you were so soaked. At the feeling of it, you both simultaneously moaned. You felt completely filled; he just stood there for a while, waiting for you to get used to the size, until you signaled for him to start moving. It began off slow, but soon he started out moving his hips at a faster pace to satisfy both of you.
"You're perfect,â he moaned in two thrusts, and you had to put your hand over your mouth. âLook at you, taking my cock so well, oh darling.â
The hands on your hips let go and grabbed you under your right thigh, opening your legs and hitting you more deeply and faster. You thought you were seeing stars when he hit an exact spot inside your pussy that made you shout.
âCum for me, my love. I know you wantâ
It didn't take long for your orgasm to hit you after that, your eyes rolled back and you let out a whine sound as you felt your walls squeeze his dick. He moaned along with you at the feeling and a few more thrusts and he came inside you.
Sanji's head fell directly to your shoulder, and you instinctively placed your palm in his blond locks. While the fluid was slowly dripping out of you, he continued to remain deep inside and breathe loudly.
He raised his head only to smile recklessly while glancing into your mouth. âSo, do you still have a headache?â
Your hand reached out to push him, but you were helpless to suppress the giggles that came. He drew away from inside you but was still between your knees as he chuckled proudly.
âDo you think anyone heard?â
âI'm not sure, maybe when you let out that screa-" You slapped him on the shoulder to cut him off while embarrassed because of the probability. âOk, ok my darling, next time weâll find a more private place.â
âNext time, huh?
Sanji stood still with an anxious smile on his face; it was almost hilarious how someone so confident in themselves would respond in that manner. You wrapped his neck with both of your arms and gave him a quick kiss to reassure him that everything was fine.
"You should come to the kitchen more often, preferably alone.â
"And you should go shirtless more often too.â
"Only for you, my love.â
You gave him another kiss before leaving the counter, getting ready to go, and returning to the bedroom. Even though the night seemed to be becoming lighter, you were aware that there were still a few hours until sunrise. It was evident that there would be plenty of issues to address when you awoke, but for the time being, you were content, even though you were a little exhausted from the activities. As sleep came, all you could think of was Sanji and his smile.
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Š iclarye, 2023
#đ my writing#vinsmoke sanji x reader#i tried#one piece#english is not my first language#anyways sanji is hot#op#one piece scenario#sanji#vinsmoke sanji#black leg sanji#one piece sanji#taz skylar#sanji x reader#opla sanji x reader#one piece x reader#vinsmoke sanji x y/n#smut#sanji smut#opla#opla smut#sanji one piece#my works
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STAR PLAYERâS TYPE : ITOSHI RIN . . . mâdni. / f ! reader / mentions of wounds / marking / somno / university au [ youâre part of the schoolâs paper club ! ] / your relationship is a mess / not proofread
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itoshi rin, university heartthrob, was asked by the school paper about his type. âthis is for our sports segment! please help us out.â
he clicks his teeth, âwhat? my goals arenât interesting enough for you?â
âno- no! itâs just a little profile weâre making for the whole team.â the poor writer was clearly intimidated, but he asks the question again.
uninterested and snarky heâd say âa girl with a cut on her lip from biting down so hard.â
âhuh?â was all they thought. the journalist is really confused. what exactly is he talking about? âthatâs⌠oddly specific but isnât that a bit sadistic?â
âi like details.â and he couldnât help but grin at your perfect timing. youâre wearing his hoodie and a mask. taking photos of the other players on the field during their practice.
he calls for you to come closer, having a hand out for you. you take it, letting the camera rest on the straps around your wrist. youâre startled when rin pulls you closer. a hand on your waist. âsee this?â he says while pulling down your mask.
you wince, the mask slightly hitting your lips. and there on display, was your bottom lip with a cut that bled slightly from the contact.
âoh my god y/n? are you alright what happened?â the removal of your mask further showed the dark circles under your eyes.
you look exhausted.
âi bit it too hard.â you say pulling up the mask to hide it back. clearing your throat and licking the wound to ease the pain. rin was grinning to himself and the poor writer just didnât know what was going on he was just given a list of questions to fill, but heâs witnessing⌠some sort of tension?
howâd you even get close to him?
âwait till you see once i pull down her hood.â you shriek and leave immediately, running away. âwell thatâs my cue to leave.â
âitoshi wait! a-are you sure you want this on the school paper?â
âdoes it look like i give a fuck?â he glares at them before chasing after you with his backpack in one hand.
the next day you decided not to wear the mask since it healed a bit better. placing the newly developed photos on the desk in your club room. âwoah y/n what happened to your lip?â your president asks.
you sigh, âi bit too hard.â before the president could even ask you why, the conversation shifts.
âreally?â the main editor chuckles. âthen apparently youâre rinâs type.â
âha? what the fuck are you-â they hand you the newly printed out issue. in a big bold font that says âstar player itoshi rinâs type!â and you had to squint to see the answer. causing your hands to tremble while you gave it back to them. âhahâŚâ was all you could say, before you sunk on your seat.
âi guess i need another mask.â
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/49e2697187fecf2b9671858e99353c82/7de983904705a4e4-ba/s540x810/0ab49e42dd0392b67db9c0879e88391155c58ea7.jpg)
bonus: early morning fun <3
âmmph! fuck r-rinâŚâ it was too early for this. you ended up falling asleep when rin invited you over to hang out. you didnât expect to be woken up with him fucking youânot that you mind, but you werenât a morning person to begin with.
your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. it was just too much. your back was against his chest as you lay on your side. his right hand on your waist to hold your body while he thrusted deeper into you.
you didnât know what you would call this relationship. sometimes heâd be cold, sometimes heâd be playful, sometimes heâd be so nice that you could melt. and then youâd fuck, no matter what.
sometimes you hoped he would just admit it. sometimes you hoped this relationship actually was âsomething.â
then heâs back at it again, it was just too early. your voice was already hoarse from last night. and for sure the neighbors would all be awake.
he couldnât help it though. waking up to you snuggled up to him so close, touched that you let him hold you all night. and then heâs see your thighs together, how there were visible marks that he left from last night.
it caused shivers down his spine that forced his body to move on his own against the pretty, defenseless you.
rinâs got your arms pinned towards him. you couldnât move, couldnât escape, letting him fuck you more relentlessly. you tried your best not to let even a whimper out. with the little self awareness you still have, all you could do was bite down on your bottom lip. hard enough to draw blood.
broken mewls and suppressed moans just kept him going, thrusting faster and faster. âa bit moreâŚâ he whispers, kissing at the back of your neck.
when it was over he turns you on your back, immediately seeing the mark on your lips. âyou bit down again.â rin pouts before kissing the corners of his mouth.
you chuckle. âgot nothing to shut me up.â
âjust bite me instead of hurting yourself.â
he helps you to the bathroom so you could get ready for classes. âare you a monster or something? what the hellâŚâ you say, tilting your head from side to side. the marks he left on you on full display. rin says nothing, holding you close. softly running his fingers on the marks on your neck. âi donât have my concealer.â you groan. rin had his eyes on you the entire time through the mirror while youâre mentally panicking. youâre just hoping it wouldnât be too hot outside to wear a hoodie.
you turn around to face him, asking if you could borrow one his jackets until you looked down deadpanned.
âyouâre hard again.â
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/49e2697187fecf2b9671858e99353c82/7de983904705a4e4-ba/s540x810/0ab49e42dd0392b67db9c0879e88391155c58ea7.jpg)
do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works
note : i need more of this au. school photographer reader whoâs always forced to take the photos of her universityâs center forward because he make sure he grabs her attention⌠oh!!!
#blue lock smut#bllk smut#itoshi rin smut#rin itoshi smut#itoshi smut#rin smut#rin itoshi x reader#itoshi x reader#rin x reader#ጞִâ â¤ď¸ by cola
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