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#THE PAST THE PRESENT & THE AFTERMATH
midnightwriter21 · 10 months
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THE PAST, THE PRESENT, & THE AFTERMATH-meeting the twins & after their parents death hcs
warnings: character death (mentioned)
AN: NOT THE NEXT PART!! as i’m working on the next chapter I thought it would be fun to make some background info/ hcs on mui, yui, and the readers friendship!! you do NOT have to read these to read & understand the story. all of these take place BEFORE the start of the story!!
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reader met the twin’s father before she met the twins!!
she was out playing in the forest near her village and got lost
the twin’s father was out in the forest working when he found her
reader explained that she was lost and he brought her back to his home so that they could figure out where her village was and that’s where she met Muichiro and Yuichiro!
after this, reader becomes a frequent visitor to the Tokito household
believe it or not but reader became friends with Yuichiro first!
Muichiro was kinda shy and didn’t talk to her much the first time they met
Yuichiro, however, didn’t care that she was a stranger lol
he wasn’t always cold and strict yk
But Muichiro warmed up to reader quickly when he saw that reader wasn’t afraid to put Yui in his place when he was acting out.
When Mui & Yui’s parents passed, reader cried for DAYS
their parents became like a second set of parents to her
but she hid her depression from the boys, never allowing herself to be upset in front of them
she was the one to comfort them both.
it wasn’t until one night when she had finally gotten Muichiro to sleep (he cried until he passed out)
that reader went outside, sat down and was crying
when someone pulled her into their chest to comfort her
it was Yuichiro!!
he knew that the happy go lucky persona that you put on was just a facade
when reader asks what he’s doing he just says,
“you take care of us but someone has to take care of you too.” and he leaves it at that
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Tag List:
@aeolia18 @sunandflame @ethereal1l @cloudymistedskies @scarletttcroww @wolywolymoley @beelzmunchkin @xiernia @moonchild1507 @syulorn @waterandflame @illyrian-moonswarrior
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whumpshaped · 9 months
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Epilogue – Jonathan
Dollhouse Masterlist
tw aftermath of horrible trauma, talk of surgery the aftermath of it, mentions of drugs, rehab, suicidal tendencies, past implied noncon, rocky recovery, past lady whump with effects in the present, self-blame, self-doubt, mention of major character death within the family, parents sent to prison, it’s a lot but it’s happy i swear
Jonathan tried to balance all the boxes of food in one hand as he reached for the door handle with the other. He narrowly missed it, the door seemingly opening on its own; Honey stood in the doorway, quickly taking half the boxes with a concerned expression.
The transformation she’d made since last year still astounded him. Some of it was physical, readily apparent upon first glance, like slowly gaining back up to a healthy weight with the help of the family’s private dietitian, growing her hair out to be able to wear it in elaborate braids, and changing her wardrobe from custom doll clothes to jeans, sweatpants and T-shirts with smiling avocados on them. But for the most part, it was things like allowing herself to slouch a little, speaking “out of turn”, making decisions on her own… like officially changing her name to Honey after her escape and stay at the hospital. 
“You really shouldn’t strain your hands like that,” she said softly, the way she said most things. 
“They don’t really hurt anymore, really.” He pushed the door closed after himself with his foot, taking care to do it slowly instead of slamming it. “Thank you.”
“Well, you don’t need to make them hurt again. Plus, you’re gonna drop them one day. It’s an accident waiting to happen.”
He sighed, placing the boxes on the kitchen table. “I’m sorry. I’ll make two trips next time.”
Honey put the rest of the boxes next to those ones. “No, it’s… I don’t know. I didn’t mean to scold you. Sorry. I just… I’ve been feeling weird lately.”
Jonathan gave her a look of genuine empathy. Their situations weren’t the same, but unfortunately, they both had some trauma relating to the coming days. “The anniversary?”
She nodded. “Sorry. I know– It’s not the same. She was your sister. I shouldn’t be wallowing so much, I just… And not even just your sister–”
He shook his head. “Don’t do that to yourself. It’s difficult for all of us. Don’t– don’t try to go through it alone.” He spread his arms a little, allowing her to step closer and nuzzle against his chest. He wrapped her up in a tight hug, letting the words sink in for a moment. “You can feel things, yeah? And you can tell me about them. And you can cry, and be angry, and be anxious. I’m here for you, okay?” 
She didn’t respond right away. He knew she was mulling it over, trying to actually take in the meaning of the words instead of giving a manufactured reaction. “I’m here for you, too,” she said eventually, and Jonathan knew she meant it. She had been there for him throughout all of this, despite her own struggles. They’d been there for each other.
“Let’s call the others, yeah?” 
Seeing the dolls improve as they did was beyond Jonathan’s wildest dreams. Sure, he knew that their family fortune would be able to pay for a lot of procedures and therapy, but he didn’t think he would have access to that fortune after Grace’s passing. The fact that his father stepped up and ensured that everyone who was willing to accept the help would be taken care of was absolutely fantastic. Jonathan had never felt so much love for him before, and especially since they’d had that talk about Grace.
As it turned out, his mother was the one forcing him to play along. With Grace’s death, he realised he couldn’t do it anymore, and did what he could to remedy the whole decade of inaction. The truth came out bit by bit, starting with the events of that fateful day, but his father made sure that all the victims were set up with the best legal teams. When it came to his own family, he was as truthful as he could be, incriminating both his wife and himself in the process. He never protested the decision of the court. 
Jonathan had inherited the company, and he immediately dismantled it from top to bottom. He started a smaller business with part of the leftover money, spending the rest on the recovery process. Not all the dolls had decided to come live with him, of course. Some of them completely cut ties with him, and he had no idea whether they’d managed to get back on their feet. But the ones that were living with him? He was so fucking proud of each and every one of them.
The doctors at the hospital had managed to fix all of Dottie’s prosthetics almost completely. She had also received a considerable upgrade; she was now able to walk on her own and learning to use her hands again. Jonathan sat with her for hours upon hours, practising sign language together to make up for her severed vocal cords, helping her bend her artificial wrists and fingers this way and that. Her face wasn’t frozen in that one acceptable expression anymore either. She frowned, and she grimaced, and she cried, and she grinned with mischief and genuine delight. She had so much personality all bottled up, that much was clear even without being able to express herself perfectly. Even though she kept the name Grace had given her, she couldn’t have been any more different than the doll Jonathan had met.
Basil, now Nix, was under medical supervision for months regarding their several and serious addictions. The withdrawal symptoms were intense and at times terrifying, and Jonathan thought multiple times that he was going to lose them. He hadn’t known them for long at that point, but he knew that no human deserved to have to go through something like that, and it was pretty clear that they were doing their absolute best to come out on the other side. And eventually, they did, coming home with five bottles of different medication to keep them stable, but alive, and announcing the name change. “It’s short for Phoenix. I mean, if those weren’t the ashes, I don’t know what the fuck I’ve risen from,” they’d said with a laugh. “Besides… I kinda feel like I’m nothing without the– the whole persona. So… Nix.”
Toxicant-induced loss of tolerance wasn’t something Jonathan had ever heard of before talking to Nix’s doctors at the clinic. It wasn’t surprising, given that Grace had been pumping them full of chemicals for several consecutive years, day in and day out, but the effects were absolutely horrifying. It was like they were allergic to everything now. Cutting out everyday stimulants like caffeine wasn’t even the issue, really, it was trying to cut out things like food colouring; especially when that stuff was put into medications. And whenever Jonathan had made a mistake regarding their diet? Nix was punished with days upon days of heart palpitations, night sweats and vomiting. Their diet had slowly taken shape over the past half a year, and they were able to enjoy family dinners with the rest of them now.
The twins refused to part with either Dottie or Nix; the four of them were inseparable. They both had to go to vocal coaches to get their voice back in working order after close to eight years of forced silence, and they also had their gastrostomy tubes removed. They had been at risk of refeeding syndrome, like most of the dolls, but after clearing that obstacle and being allowed to eat freely, their symptoms of malnutrition subsided, even reversed. They went the opposite way in clothing stores now, making sure they looked as different as possible. Muffin went by Lux now, the name they’d originally wanted to change their birth name to before they got snatched up by Grace. They’d had their hair buzzed and several tattoos made before moving onto piercings, moulding their body into something they thought was furthest from a doll. Berry went back to his given name, Devante, exclaiming that his mother had already known he’d have to fight for his own justice against others’ horrible wrongdoings. 
Despite that sentiment, his mother never got to hear about it. Dottie, Nix, Dev and Lux had all decided not to contact their parents. They had been gone for way too many years. They had read their own obituaries, saw their family’s posts on social media about their passing on every single anniversary of their “death”. They had agreed it would’ve been too much to just come back after half a decade or more.
“I don’t want my mom to see me like this,” Dottie had told him. “I can’t even go back to the name she’d given me. I feel like the ship of Theseus. I want her to remember the old me.”
If anything, Jonathan could at least relate to losing a mother who was still alive, and he did everything in his power to make it better for everyone around him. 
Honey did contact her family after a few months, when she felt like she was ready. Jonathan held her hand throughout the phone call. He listened to her father ask whether there was a lawsuit, and whether she’d gotten any money from it. He listened to her mother say that they’d sold all her things already, so she didn’t have to go home. When Honey asked if they could meet anyway, she told her she was busy, and hung up the phone. He’d spent the next weeks consoling her.
As Jonathan watched them all take their seats at the kitchen table, he wondered what could’ve become of all these people, had he called Grace in advance about his visit that day. She would’ve told him it wasn’t a good day, and they would’ve rescheduled. All these amazing people could’ve been lost. All this laughter could’ve stayed a fantasy of their captive mind.
The phone began ringing before Jonathan could’ve had a single bite, and he sighed and put down his utensils. When he saw the number, however, he decided he wasn’t even annoyed anymore.
“Hey,” he said with a smile, despite Bora not being able to see it.
After being called Coral for several years, having his hair grown out and coloured to match the name, he decided he wanted to go back to his given name, chop it all off and dye it black. He’d gone into his kidnapping and captivity with a debilitating case of depression, and the therapy and medication he’d been able to receive since his rescue was beyond helpful.
“Hey, man. I just wanted to call, because… you know. Just wanted to check on you guys.” 
In all honesty, Jonathan expected a call from him sometime that day. Not even just because he was a good person, good people didn’t need to put their trauma aside to reconnect with others reminding them of said trauma. But the fact was, Bora had a lot of survivor’s guilt. Grace had never really done anything drastic to his body, nothing that couldn’t easily be reversed. His depression had been worsened by the situation, as anyone’s would’ve been, and he’d been forced to play along with a relationship he never wanted, but he had never gotten his limbs chopped off. He was working through the mental issues in therapy, and he was trying to live by the rule of not comparing his pain to others’, but every time he called, the overwhelming guilt was painfully obvious in his voice.
“I think we’re doing fine, considering, you know, everything. We’re all a bit out of it. It’s hard to think it’s only been one year… and at the same time it’s like, wow, it’s already been a year.”
“Yeah. I’m not… super excited for the articles tomorrow.”
“Would you like to come over? I don’t know if we’d necessarily take your mind off of it, but we all kind of formed a pact that none of us would look at social media for a while.” He lowered his voice, walking a little further away from the table. “And they’d love it, too. They’re always asking me whether you’ll come visit after your calls.”
There was no response from the other side, and for a moment, Jonathan thought he’d pushed it too far. But then he heard quiet sniffling, and Bora choked out, “I’ll drop by.”
“We all love you, okay? Don’t feel like you need to hide from us.”
Another pause. “Is Val coming?” 
Well, maybe he needed to hide from one person. After their time spent together in captivity, all that forced intimacy and shared trauma, it was understandable when Valerie drew a line in the sand about seeing each other. Her doll name, Anise, was way too close to her original name, Annie, so she decided to go the complete opposite direction and choose an entirely new one. That was around the same time when she told Bora she needed to get as far away from him as possible, in a desperate effort to distance herself from her past entirely. 
It was a difficult situation for everyone. After having her face surgically frozen at Grace’s house, Val wasn’t even able to communicate anything. Bora somehow ended up taking on the role of her helper, which Grace took full advantage of, but at least he was able to apologise, or ask things, or request things not to be done to him, whenever that was even an option. Valerie had her voice taken away, her sight, her facial expressions, everything. The doctors were able to do some reconstructive surgery, but she was told that seeing and speaking were completely off the table with the way her body adjusted. Learning sign language without being able to copy by sight proved to be a massive task, and Bora, as always, attempted to be as much help as he could be. Almost the first thing Val had told him was that she couldn’t handle his skin touching hers, or the sound of his voice, and she wanted to leave immediately. Bora had respected her wishes, as was the right thing to do.
Jonathan had spent the next few months almost constantly on call with him, and when the two of them weren’t talking, Bora was phoning the hotlines. Being riddled with guilt to the point of not wanting to live anymore was a common sentiment across the board when it came to their little patchwork family, but Bora was alone, and he refused to get any help that would’ve put him in direct contact with others. It was always just the phone, and always only Jonathan. He still had nightmares about the phone ringing and him not being able to reach it in time. 
“We haven’t talked in a good while,” Jonathan admitted. “I tried to send her a text earlier today to make sure she was doing okay, and it didn’t go through.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sure she’s okay, though. She just doesn’t want to talk about being okay with us specifically.”
The rest of the call went by quickly, and when Jonathan rejoined the rest of them for lunch, he found them all dead silent and clearly trying to eavesdrop. They didn’t even try to hide it.
“Is he coming, then?” Lux asked.
“He said he was, yeah.” They all looked at each other in utter delight, smiles spreading from one face to the other so quickly it was impossible to tell who started it. 
The next day, Jonathan immediately bumped into his sister on his morning walk. “One Year Has Passed Since Killer Barbie’s Funeral”, read the headline on the stupid magazine that was displayed at the newspaper stand, showing her eerily smiling face and pink casket. He had to turn around and go right back home, desperate for one of Honey’s sweet, warm hugs. 
“I didn’t break the rules,” he sobbed as quietly as he could. “It was– it was a newspaper, I just– I glanced in the direction of the stand–”
“I know.” She pet his hair gently, tears of her own slowly joining Jonathan’s in soaking their clothes. “I know. You don’t need to explain yourself.”
Jonathan’s morning breakdown set the tone for the entire day, and they all took turns hugging and holding each other while the other cried. Board games, tremendous amounts of snacks they could now enjoy freely, and a massive pity party took up the entire day of the anniversary; no tears remained unshed, and no one was left without several friends’ worth of consolation and compassion.
And when the sun rose again the next day and Jonathan turned over in his bed to see Honey sleeping soundly, he got the distinct feeling that it was all going to be okay. If they could survive one year despite all that had happened, they could survive a thousand.
~
taglist: @whumpsday @lonesome--hunter @reblogging-whump @panic-and-chaos @kim-poce @uwu-scraptrappy @mikaelaix @whumpinggrounds @hidden-dreamland @the-scrapegoat @whumplr-reader @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @whumpinthepot @devourerofcheesecake
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dutybcrne · 4 months
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Kaeya wasn’t one to really get angry as a kid, but the very few times when he genuinely did, it was extremely obvious to everyone, in the way he carried himself.
#hc; kaeya#//Dude had/has like#//Mom type anger bfbfb#//Where his bad mood would just absolutely Contaminate the very room he was in and make the atmosphere utterly Suffocating#//He wouldn’t be confrontational about it either; just be absolutely Frigid; enough that it leaks through his politeness#//Which most of the time was at Luc (after antics gone too far or him pressing Kae abt himself/his past too much)#//Or maids who mouthed off and gossiped a bit too much; esp abt Addie. Which was the most frequent cause#//Only TWICE at Crepus; 1) directly when he tried to pry once; 2) from afar the day he died when Kae saw the Delusion on him#//And ONCE at Addie after Luc left & she tried to lessen the blame Kae heaped upon himself; in reasoning Luc could have; too#//He regrets that one most#//He’s not even overt with it; not usually. But still v palpable to those it’s directed at#//It’sa subtle storminess in his eye; a particular tension in his body.ACertain Tone in his voice; like an air of finality w each sentence#//It was far more obvious as a kid than present day; bc later on he got better at hiding it as smth else#//& as a bab; it was far more jarring to see him acting that way after being used to him being so warm and shy#//For Diluc esp; it was prolly a mad stressful affair each time it happened; no matter how infrequent#//One minute yer bro is jokin around & chilling; then he’s suddenly put what feels like leagues between you & kicked you off Dragonspine#//Tended to show up sometimes during their knight days at the others & ESP in his first few months as Cavalry Captain#//Except he was deffo far more willing to resort to confrontations over insubordination & challenges of his capability in latter#//Before he mellowed out again bc of Jean & Varka and really started picking up the silver tongue’n sly approach more#//It was more efficient seeing people fall apart seemingly from their own doings than do it himself & deal with the troublesome aftermaths#//Nowadays; his Vision acting up if anything is is main tell to if he’s angry or not#//Unless the person knows him REALLY well; or he genuinely can’t hold it back#//But that one is v extreme cases
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flamboyant-king · 2 years
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Is there a villian in the harvey and camellia universe that is trying to hurt both of them
The only villain these two face is their own imaginations…and racism.
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othercrossee · 1 year
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Life feels brighter when im rambling about stupid ass characters
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soaps-mohawk · 1 month
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 13: Piece Me Back Together
Summary: Your pack deals with the aftermath of your heat.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, Ghost x Soap
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, handjobs, anal fingering, anal sex, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex irl), spanking (it’s like once), choking (kind of), light Dom/sub dynamics, Johnny's praise kink, excessive use of the word cock, heat cycles, mating cycles, brief mention of blood, brief medical stuff, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, and of course a little fluff
A/N: Well folks, we've made it past the heat portion of the fic. Now things can really start moving. Lots of aftercare, some world building, and of course a little spice at the end for you all to enjoy (as if the last chapter wasn't enough lol). I tried to catch all the possible tags for this one but as always, let me know if I missed one. The smut happens in the very last scene, so if you'd prefer not to read it, then skip that last little bit. You won't really miss much. Also, there's a lot of jumping around in time in this one so I tried to mark when things are happening relative to the present moment in the fic.
Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.
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6 Days Ago
“Looks comfortable.” 
Kyle glances up as Johnny closes the door to his room, blanket and pillow in hand. “Slept on worse.” He shrugs, glancing down at the cot set up in the hallway before looking back up at Johnny. “Moving out?” 
“Camping in Si’s office for the next week. Keep our distance.” He nods at the closed door. 
“Probably for the best.” Kyle says. “Have fun!” 
“Don’t enjoy yourself too much.” Johnny winks at him before making his way down the hallway and disappearing around the corner. 
Kyle shakes his head, starting to sort through the many bags of supplies they’ve stocked up on in preparation for their omega’s heat. They’re well prepared, all of them, for the next week, Kyle especially. He’s spent the last few days reading up on what to expect, how to best help and support his alpha and omega, and what to look out for in case things start going wrong. He doesn’t think they will. He has a lot of faith in Price and he knows Price will take good care of their omega. 
Still, he can’t help but feel a bit nervous. He has a big job to do, even though there’s not much to do until after the heat is over with. He just has to ensure Price doesn’t hurt you accidentally, or maul you to death. He doesn’t think that’s likely to happen, but then again, one can never know. 
Kyle lets out a shaky breath, grabbing the bags with the electrolytes and nutrient bars before heading for your door. 
It’s going to be a long week. 
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Present Day
It’s quiet. Has been for almost an hour now. Kyle rises from the cot, slipping his phone into his pocket. He slowly approaches the door, leaning in to listen for a moment before putting his hand on the knob. He lets out a breath before pushing the door open slowly, slipping in and closing the door quietly. The smells in the room are worse than they had been last night, a toxic mix of omega, alpha, sex, and sweat. He takes a moment to breathe, adjusting to the scent. 
You and Price are spooned together on the bed, asleep, or at least you are. Price had pulled the blankets up around you, tucking you in. Kyle approaches slowly, not wanting to accidentally step on a wrapper and startle either of you and risk you getting scared or Price getting territorial. He brushes the damp strands of hair from your face, your body temperature significantly lower than it had been even last night. He pulls the forehead thermometer from his pocket, taking your temperature quickly before sending a text to Dr. Keller. 
He carefully lifts the blankets, checking beneath. You’re still locked together as he expected, and he lowers the blankets back down, tucking you both in again. He unplugs Price’s phone from the charging cord that he’d plugged in last night, rotating it to your phone. He knew the chances of either of you being aware enough to use a phone for anything would be low, but just in case, he kept them both charged. 
He tiptoes through the mess of wrappers and bottles, grabbing the bag of trash that he had started a couple days ago. He picks up the mess on the floor, cleaning off the nightstand as well before setting out a new bottle of electrolytes and a couple nutrient bars. There’s still quite a few left, but those could be saved for your next heat. 
Price stirs a bit as Kyle sets the bag of trash off to the side next to the bag of things that would have to go to the wash. He hurries over, gently keeping Price from moving too much. 
“Easy. You’re still knotted.” He says, putting a hand on Price’s shoulder as you let out a quiet sound. His skin is warm and sticky from sweat, and probably other things. 
Price rubs his eyes before blinking up at Kyle. “What day is it?” 
“Morning of the sixth day.” He answers, passing Price the bottle of electrolytes. “I think it’s over. Her temperature’s back to normal. Just waiting on Dr. Keller’s opinion.” 
Price hums, unscrewing the cap from the bottle before taking a long drink. “Feel like shit.” 
Kyle grins. “Been a long week for you, Cap. How do you feel?” 
Price screws the cap back on the bottle before leaning over you to place it on the nightstand. “Like I got hit by a truck and rolled down a hill.” 
“Speaking from experience, sir?” Kyle smirks. 
Price gives him a look before closing his eyes again, relaxing against your back. He lets out a groan as his knot deflates, his cock slipping from your folds. “Christ, that's going to hurt later.”
“Let me get the bath started.” Kyle says, going into your bathroom. 
He starts the water, making sure it’s warm enough before he grabs the epsom salt off the counter and adds some in. He leaves the water running as he moves back to the bedroom, helping Price off the bed first. The alpha groans as he stands, leaning heavily against Kyle’s side. Kyle wraps his arm around his shoulders, supporting Price as they make their way to the bathroom. 
“I’ve been beaten, tortured, shot. I’ve jumped out of moving cars, been in helicopter crashes.” Price says, grunting as Kyle helps him down into the bath. “This might be the worst I’ve ever felt.” 
“Not quite as spry as you used to be, old man?” Kyle teases, making sure he’s comfortable. 
“Plenty spry, but god I forgot how energetic omegas can be.” Price leans his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. 
“Just relax.” Kyle says, turning off the water. “I’ll bring her in.” 
He heads back into your room, approaching the bed. You’re shivering, eyes squeezed closed and eyebrows pinched. Kyle kneels down next to the bed, placing a gentle hand on your arm. You start a bit at the touch, a quiet whimper leaving your lips. 
“Shh, easy love.” Kyle tries to soothe you as you shake. “You’re alright.” 
You let out a whine, seeking out your alpha in your disoriented state. The bathwater splashes as Price shifts in response to your call, his own instincts still on high alert. 
“Let’s get you into the bath.” Kyle says before gently slipping his arms under you and lifting you up. 
You let out a whine in protest, your body sore and aching from the last six days. Kyle quickly carries you to the bath, easing you into the water between Price’s legs. You’re trembling, quiet whines leaving your lips as he eases you back against Price’s chest. The alpha wraps his arms around you, a quiet rumble sounding from his chest as he tries to ease your disorientation and discomfort. 
Kyle leaves you and Price there to soak as he heads back to the room to strip the sheets and start the laundry. Most of your pillows and stuffed animals are stacked in the corner of the room by your desk, spared from the mess that the bed has turned into. The sheets are still wet with a concoction of fluids, and he knows they’ll need to soak for a while. He stuffs them into the bag with your clothes, along with your blankets, before he heads down the hall to the laundry room. 
He checks on you and Price when he returns, both of you content still in the bath. He can’t help but smile as he watches the two of you, pride swelling in his chest at the sight of his alpha taking care of their omega. 
Their omega. 
It seems almost strange to think now. They’d gone so long without an omega, and thought they wouldn’t be getting one. Now, six weeks later, they’ve all fallen head over heels for a little omega none of them even knew they needed. He can’t imagine life without an omega now, how well you fit into their pack, how well you fit with all of them, how you’ve only served to make them stronger and more efficient. 
He hates to admit that perhaps Laswell was right. 
Maybe they did need you after all. 
Kyle bags up the plastic mattress protector, glad to see it did its job. He replaces the sheets and blankets for now, knowing you’ll want to nest once you’re more aware. He checks his phone before heading back into the bathroom, kneeling down next to the tub. Your shaking has subsided, reduced to a shudder here and there as you’ve slowly relaxed in the hot water. 
Kyle grabs a cloth and your body wash, starting to gently clean your skin, or at least get the sweat and other fluids off. Bruises litter your skin and the claiming mark on your shoulder is scabbed and angry. Kyle carefully washes it, not wanting to apply too much pressure as he cleans off the dried blood still stuck to your skin. He knows it’s going to hurt for a while. 
“What did Dr. Keller say?” Price asks as he helps ease you up so Kyle can wash your back. 
“Said if her temperature is normal then the worst is over.” Kyle answers. “She wants to do a check up soon, make sure everything’s alright. Said she’d come here to do it, if that’s alright.” 
Price grunts quietly as Kyle starts to wash his chest. “That’s fine. Easier than going all the way to the medical building. Simon and Johnny?” 
“Fine.” Kyle answers. “Been keeping busy running drills and stuff. Johnny’s been keeping Simon occupied.” 
Price hums, letting his eyes close as Kyle washes his neck and shoulders. “Good.” 
Kyle makes sure to get all of the soap rinsed off before pulling the plug on the water, carefully lifting you up to stand. He lets you lean against him, grabbing one of the towels to dry you off as best he can. Price gets himself standing, drying himself off as Kyle helps you back to bed. Price joins you, wrapping his arms around you tight as Kyle tucks the blankets up around you both. 
“Can I get you anything?” Kyle asks as he sets a new bottle of electrolytes on the nightstand. “Real food maybe?” 
“I’d kill for some bangers and mash, maybe a pint.” Price says, a smile tugging at his lips. 
“I’ll see what I can scrounge up.” Kyle says, glancing at you one last time before he leaves the room. 
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Your body aches. There’s a deep soreness in your muscles, and a painful throb between your legs. Your skin feels raw and tight, and there's a steady pulse behind your eyes. A quiet sound leaves your lips before you can stop it, the sound cracking and broken from your raw throat. There's a desert in your mouth again, your tongue dry and heavy in your mouth.
Your thoughts are dragged away from the agony in your body as a quiet rumbling starts somewhere in front of you, your brain going quiet except for the need to seek it out. You press yourself closer to it, meeting warm skin as you try to get closer and closer. You want to bury yourself in it, seep into its depths until you can feel the vibrations of it in your bones. Arms wrap around you, pulling you in closer until you're squished against a bare chest. 
You press your face against the soft skin, trying to get closer to the rumbling purr vibrating from deep within. You let out another sound, body going lax as the purr lulls you into a relaxed state. The tension leaves your body, easing the ache in your muscles a bit. Not much, but enough to pull a relieved sigh from your lips. 
“Easy, love.” A quiet voice says, another hand touching your back. 
You tense slightly at the intrusion on your safe space, but quickly relax as the hand stills on your skin. The calming scent of beta overtakes you, easing your mind to a quiet hum as your alpha and beta work to calm you. You feel a bit disoriented as reality slowly begins to return, seeping back into your brain. 
You went into heat. 
You remember waking up with the blistering inferno burning hot within you, the insatiable need pulsing between your legs. You remember Kyle being there, the soft scent of him as he helped you prepare, pulling off your clothes and making you drink some of the electrolytes. You remember John entering the room, the way his scent made your brain feel like mush. You remember him sinking his teeth into your shoulder, his knot forcing you open before everything went dark. 
Everything else is a dark blur, wiped from your memory after your instincts took over. 
You shift against the body you’re pressed close to, a deep ache rippling through you. It hurts, everything hurts. Your hips are sore, your shoulder is throbbing, every muscle feels like you just did a triathlon with no training, and there’s a sharp throbbing between your thighs. 
You’re crying before you even realize it, the tears uncontrollable as they slide down your cheeks, the quiet sniffles and sobs aggravating your already aching body. The arms around you tighten, the purring getting louder, but you can’t stop the onslaught of tears. 
You flinch as something tickles the skin of your forehead, chapped lips pressing a soft kiss to your hairline. You let out a whine as you continue to cry, your mind a swirl of confusion and disorientation as you try to come to terms with everything that’s happened. You don’t know how long it’s been, what day it is. You don’t even know what happened to you in the last week. 
You continue to cry, oblivious to the conversation happening over you, the gentle purring in your ears lulling you into a dazed state as you float in and out of consciousness. The pain of being moved momentarily brings you back before you settle again, laying back against a chest. A baggy shirt is pulled over your head, smelling of your alpha. The fabric feels different than it had days ago when you’d woken up in the throes of your heat. It’s soft, not offending, and it offers you warmth and comfort. 
You don’t want to move, you don’t want to do anything. Exhaustion pulls at the edges of your mind as you lay there, the tears still streaming down your cheeks.
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He hasn’t stopped purring since you woke up. The low rumble in his chest hasn’t stopped, and neither has the ache blooming there since you started crying. Even in your dazed, half asleep state, the tears still roll down your cheeks, quiet shaky breaths catching every so often. He’s not sure what to do, how to help. He’s never been with an omega that’s cried before. Not like this. 
His purring kicks up in volume as you startle awake when the door opens, letting out a broken whimper as your space suddenly gets invaded. He tries to soothe you, his arms tightening around you to try and ground you in his presence. 
“Hi, honey.” Dr. Keller says, kneeling down next to the bed, her voice soft and the scent of beta thick in the air. “Still a bit out of it, huh?” 
“She hasn’t stopped crying since she woke up.” He says, rubbing gentle circles on your arm with his thumb. 
“That’s not unusual.” Dr. Keller says, digging through her bag to pull out a thermometer. “There’s a lot going on right now for her. Besides the exhaustion and the confusion and the pain, there’s a lot of rapid hormonal changes happening. Some omegas can just wake up and hop out of it immediately and be just fine.” 
John frees one of your arms so Dr. Keller can take your pulse and blood pressure. 
“Others might struggle a bit more.” She continues. “Purebred omegas especially have a hard time coming out of it. They’re more sensitive to those instincts and the sudden cut off of them is rather jarring.” She puts her equipment back in her bag. “Her vitals look good, which makes me confident to hold off on any further examinations until she’s more alert and aware.” 
“Are there things we should look out for?” Kyle asks. 
“She’s going to be drowsy and fatigued for a while, but if you can’t wake her at all, call me. If her breathing gets shallow or her pulse weakens or she starts developing a fever again, call me. Also check for blood the next time she uses the bathroom. Her vitals aren’t showing any indication of internal injuries, though, so I think she’ll be just fine.” She pulls a pill bottle from her bag. “I’ve prescribed some muscle relaxers for her. There’s a week’s worth in there. It’ll help with the pain and discomfort, but they will make her sleepy. The best thing she can do right now is rest and recover. Once she’s more aware, you can try some soft foods and lots of liquids. If she’s really struggling, I can set up an IV and get some fluids into her, perk her up a bit.” 
“Thank you.” John says, shifting you slightly so Dr. Keller can look at the bite mark on your shoulder.
“How are you feeling?” She asks him, pulling out a disinfectant wipe.
“Sore.” John huffs out a laugh. “Nothing I can’t handle, though.” 
Dr. Keller hums as she cleans the wound on your shoulder. “I know I’m not here to give you medical advice, but as your omega’s doctor I feel the need to remind you not to ignore your own symptoms. She needs you right now, more than ever. So don’t try to macho man your way through anything. You need to rest just as much as she does.” 
“Yes, doctor.” He grumbles, adjusting your shirt once she’s done. 
Dr. Keller gives him a smile. “You did a good job.” She turns to Kyle. “Both of you. Don’t hesitate to call me. It’s what I’m here for.” 
A smile tugs at John’s lips as Kyle practically beams from Dr. Keller’s praise. He did do a good job. You’re both still breathing after all. 
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3 Days Ago
“I cannae take anymore.” Johnny pants, his breaths near wheezes as he rests his hands on his knees. “Ye said you'd go easy on me.”
“I never promised anything, Johnny.” Simon says, standing behind him. 
“Hell's bells, L.T.” Johnny groans, dropping to his hands and knees. “Gonna kill me at this rate.”
“Don't be dramatic. C'mon, again.” 
“Uh uh.” Johnny says, flopping onto his side on the ground. “Am pure done in! ‘S almost lunch anyway.” He rolls onto his back, looking in the direction of the barracks as he wipes the sweat from his brow. “Think they're havin’ fun?”
Simon looks down at him, looming over him like a shadow. “Probably seems like it right now. Be a different story when it’s done.”
“Sometimes I wish I knew what it was like.” Johnny says, turning his gaze up to Simon's face. He can't see much under the mask, and right now is one of those moments when he wishes he could. 
“You really don't. It's messy and gory.” Simon offers him a hand, helping Johnny to his feet. “Gotta be prepared to pick up the pieces afterwards.” Simon turns, heading in the direction of the barracks. 
“That why you've never taken an omega?” Johnny asks, following him.
Simon stops dead in his tracks, turning to look at Johnny. Johnny's back straightens at the look in Simon's eyes. No, not Simon. Ghost. He's looking at Ghost again. 
“Drop it. Or I'll make you do another lap.” Ghost says, his voice taking on the low rasp he gets when he's shifted into the laser focused headspace of the Lieutenant. 
“Yes, sir.” Johnny says, following after Ghost as they head back towards the barracks. 
Ghost slips into the showers once they enter, Johnny heading to the corner to peek down the hallway towards their rooms. It's quiet now. It hadn't been when they left earlier. He could hear it as they passed the hall to go out the door, the distant sound of moans and the bedframe knocking against the wall. He had fought the erection threatening to tent his shorts all the way to the field. He knows heats are no light matter, but the mental image he's drawn up of you blissed out, mouth open as you moan, back arching in pleasure has been plaguing him for nearly two weeks. He's desperate, practically chomping at the bit to get a chance to see it himself first hand, to see the real thing putting his mental image to shame. 
He makes his way down the hallway, keeping a respectful distance between himself and your room. Kyle looks up from his spot on the bed where he'd been scrolling on his phone.
“How're they doin’?” Johnny asks, wiping the sweat from his face. 
“Alright. Sleeping for the moment.” Kyle answers. Johnny can only imagine the torture of having to sit and listen to nonstop fucking for the last three days. 
“We're gonna grab lunch soon. Want us tae bring ye somethin’?” 
Kyle nods. “Sure. That'd be great.” 
“Ye got it.” Johnny nods, passing a glance at your door before looking back to Kyle. “Good luck.”
“Thanks, mate.” Kyle says, watching his fellow beta walk back down the hall. 
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Johnny glances up from his phone as Simon huffs out what's the tenth sigh in the last three minutes. The alpha is seated at his desk, clicking away at something on his computer and occasionally mashing away at the keyboard rather harshly. Johnny's surprised he hasn't cracked a key yet, or just thrown the whole thing out the window. The beta can see how tightly his alpha is wrung by the tenseness in his shoulders, the hard set of his brow, the set line of his lips, the occasional tick of his jaw. 
“What's got ye all riled up?” Johnny finally breaks the silence, setting his phone aside. 
“Nothing.” Simon grumbles, ignoring Johnny's gaze.
Johnny’s brow furrows and he pushes himself to stand, moving over to Simon’s side. “Doesnae seem like nothin’ to me.” He puts his hands on Simon’s broad shoulders, squeezing them, feeling the tension in his muscles. “Awful tense, Si.” 
“Leave it, Johnny.” Simon grumbles, trying to swat the beta away, but he’s insistent. 
“Wouldnae be a little omega getting you so tense, would it?” Johnny teases. 
Simon turns to him, his eyes darkening. His jaw clenches, hands closing into fists where they sit on the armrests of his chair. “Don’t push it, Johnny.” His voice has that deep rumble to it, the threat of his alpha coming through. 
Johnny stares at him, feeling the danger prickling at the back of his neck, but at the same time, he wants to push that boundary. He wants to see just how far he can push his alpha until he finally gives in. 
“I don’t know why ye keep torturing yourself like this, Si. Ye know ye like her. She’d be more’n willing-” 
“That’s the problem.” Simon snaps, pushing himself up from his seat, forcing Johnny to take a step back. “She’s not doing this because she wants to. She’s only doing this because she’s been told to do it.” 
“She’s an omega. Her whole life was going tae be people tellin’ her what to do and forcin’ her tae do things, even if she didn’t want to. Ye think things would have been different if she’d been put with a different pack?” Johnny doesn’t back down from Simon’s glare, having been on the receiving end of it enough times now he’s almost immune to it. “Things could have been a lot worse for her. She might not have wanted to be here, but she is. Ye can’t change that, Si. No matter how badly you might want to.” 
Johnny can tell by the slow fall to Simon’s tense shoulders that he’s struck home. The situation wasn’t ideal, but it’s what they were dealt. You’re here with them, and he’s going to make sure you feel as comfortable as possible. 
Simon lets out another sigh, turning away from Johnny to crawl into their makeshift bed. He lays down with a huff, closing his eyes. Johnny smirks, slowly crawling onto the two cots pushed together, laying down right next to Simon. He rests his hand on Simon’s thigh, feeling the powerful muscle flex under his hand. He slowly begins to drag it higher, Simon’s eyes opening again. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” Simon rasps, but he doesn’t move, even as Johnny reaches the junction of his hip and thigh. 
“Yer all worked up, big guy.” Johnny says, leaning his head on his hand, slowly moving his hand over Simon’s very prominent bulge. “Thought I’d help ye.” 
“What makes you think I want your help?” Simon says, still laying still. 
Johnny lifts his brows, slowly rubbing Simon through his pants. “This looks rather painful, and I seem to be the only option to help, since everyone else is rather occupied-” 
Johnny’s words are cut off as he finds himself suddenly on his back, Simon’s hand around his throat. The alpha is leaning over him, a deep rumble vibrating through his chest. “You talk too much, Johnny.” Simon rumbles, leaning close to the beta’s face. 
“I’ve been told tha’ before.” Johnny says, leaning up to try and kiss his alpha, but Simon backs away before he can make contact. “By you if I remember correctly.” 
Simon’s fingers flex around his throat, a moan spilling from his lips as Simon grinds his hips against Johnny’s. His cock is hard in his pants, has been for a while. He’s not sure if it’s from the lewd thoughts that have been plaguing his mind since you first kissed him, weeks ago, or if it’s just a response to the knowledge that you’re currently fucking their pack alpha like your life depends on it. 
Johnny lets out a whimper, bucking up against Simon desperately. Simon tuts at him, pressing against his throat to keep him still on the bed as he sits himself up on top of the beta. 
“Naughty little thing.” Simon says, staring down into his blue eyes. “Know you’ve been thinking about sinking your cock into the new little omega for weeks.” Johnny lets out a whine, his cock twitching in his pants. “I don’t think you’ll even make it that long, will you pup?” Simon chuckles. “Gonna cum in your pants as soon as you see her tits, huh?” Simon presses down, putting more pressure against his cock as he rubs it through his pants. “Gonna cum in your pants just thinking about it.” 
Johnny holds his breath, trying to focus anywhere except for Simon’s hand. He squeezes his eyes closed as Simon undoes the button on his cargo pants, releasing his throat to tug the fabric down around his knees. 
“Bloody hell.” Simon says, wrapping a hand around Johnny’s hard cock. “Prettiest cock I’ve ever seen.” 
“I thought Kyle’s was the prettiest.” Johnny says, opening his eyes to glance down at his alpha. 
“Kyle’s just pretty.” Simon says, slowly stroking Johnny’s cock. “You have the prettiest cock.” 
“Christ...” Johnny breathes as Simon continues to jerk his cock, his hips bucking as he can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. 
A pathetic whimper leaves Johnny’s lips as Simon pulls his hand away, sitting up on his knees over his beta. He undoes his belt, tossing it to the floor before undoing his pants, pulling them and his briefs down to release his own throbbing cock. Johnny licks his lips as Simon fists his own cock, slowly stroking it. 
“Turn around. Let me see that pretty ass.” Simon says. 
“Yes, sir.” Johnny smirks, wiggling himself until he’s flat on his stomach, pushing his ass into the air as best he can with his legs trapped between Simon’s. 
Simon purrs quietly at Johnny’s response, running his hands over his beta’s pert cheeks. “Prettiest ass too.” He murmurs, gently spreading his cheeks. 
“I’m startin’ to think I might be the prettiest.” Johnny says, gasping quietly as a glob of warm spit hits his hole. 
“Give me a night with Kyle and I’ll get back to you on that.” Simon says, pressing a finger into Johnny’s ass. 
Johnny groans, pressing his face into the pillow. “Fucking Christ.” 
“You can take it.” Simon soothes him, reaching down to fish the lube out of the bag he’d tossed it in last night. He squirts some on his finger before pressing further in, spreading Johnny’s ass open. “Good boy.” 
Johnny nearly melts into the cot, letting out a pathetic sound as Simon adds a second finger. He’s still sore from the last three days, but his drive to please his alpha pushes away any sensitivity he’s feeling. That, and the lust burning hot in him. Betas don’t have heat cycles, but he might as well be in the middle of one with how horny he’s been these last few days. He knows part of it is Simon being worked up by the knowledge that there’s an omega in heat nearby, and his own body reacting to his alpha. He’s never been around an omega in heat, and he doesn’t think Simon has either. 
He’s not sure Simon has ever been with an omega at all before. 
More cold lube hits his hole, a second finger pressing in. He gasps at the stretch, squeezing around Simon’s thick fingers. Simon’s other hand trails up his back, pushing his shirt up as he goes. Johnny pushes himself up slightly, tugging the fabric over his head before he relaxes back down against the blankets. 
Simon presses a third finger in, working Johnny open with what still won’t be enough, but Johnny won’t complain. He’s taken his alpha before. He’ll do it gladly again. 
“Fuck, Johnny.” Simon grunts as Johnny squeezes around his fingers again. 
“Cannae help it.” Johnny whines. “Feels too good.” 
“Didn’t say you could cum yet.” Simon says, removing his fingers. “Naughty pup.” 
Johnny lets out a pathetic sounding whimper, pressing his ass up to try and chase Simon’s fingers. He yelps as Simon’s hand meets his skin, his hips dropping back to the bed at the force of Simon’s spank. 
“Stay still.” Simon growls, the cap of the lube popping open again. 
Johnny does as he’s told, keeping himself still as Simon prepares himself. He groans as the tip of Simon’s cock presses against his hole, his hands fisting the sheets at the stretch. Simon’s hand rubs his back, trying to get him to relax. Johnny breathes, forcing himself to go lax, letting Simon slip in further. 
“Good boy.” Simon groans, bracing himself on the bed as he presses further and further into Johnny’s tight hole. “That’s my good boy. You can take it.” 
“Fuck!” Johnny groans, practically preening from the praise. 
“That’s it.” Simon groans, pressing in until his hips are flush with Johnny’s ass. “Bloody fucking hell.” 
Johnny’s mind goes blank as he’s filled, all thoughts leaving at the feeling of his alpha inside of him. He’s panting already, stretched open around his alpha’s cock. Simon begins to move, rocking his hips slowly, drawing his cock out before pushing it back in. Johnny whines, pushing back against Simon, needing more. 
“Please...” Johnny begs. “Please alpha!”
“Fuck.” Simon grunts, bracing himself further before snapping his hips against Johnny. “Like that? That what you want, pup?”
Johnny almost yelps at the sensation, hands fisting the blankets as his body rocks forward on the cot. “Fuck, yes!” 
Simon sets a brutal pace, hips snapping against Johnny’s ass. Pleasure numbs Johnny’s mind as the sensation of Simon inside of him. His cock is trapped between his body and the cot, dragging against the blankets with every thrust. He’s going to cum soon, he knows that. He won’t be able to hold it, not with how sensitive he already is. 
“Gonna cum, can’t hold it!” He whines, pushing back against Simon’s thrusts for more friction. “Fuck, alpha!” 
Johnny cums quickly with a groan, the blankets getting damp under him as he shakes in his release. Simon doesn’t stop, undeterred by Johnny’s clenching around him in his orgasm. He’s going to ring a few more out of Johnny before he’s done. 
They’re both in for a long night. 
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Taglist:
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sttoru · 5 months
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‘toji doesn’t know how to properly give aftercare — nor did he care to do so before. but, meeting you changed his ways of thinking.’
☀︎|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 toji’s previous / past wife. grumpy sad dilf toji who learns how to love again t_t. reader gets called ‘doll, little girl’. self indulgent? yessir.
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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 — 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.
“mmph,” you sniff. your face was still buried in the pillow below you — your tears and drool staining the material. your limbs were trembling and you were completely and utterly spent. you couldn’t 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 he’d get the money, dress himself back up and leave through the front door with a small ‘thanks for your time’ comment.
but, that was his past. that was after the death of his wife and before he had met you — that was a dark time where he sought money in any kind of way to ease the hidden guilt and pain in his body. he’d sleep with women for a pay check. and maybe also to simply forget about his miserable life.
toji thought that he wouldn’t 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: that’s 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.
“hey,” 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, “mhm?”
silence follows. it’s not really awkward, but there was a barely noticeable sense of insecurity radiating from the assassin. for the first time in a good while.
toji’s 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 hadn’t 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 — despite all those complex thoughts and feelings — his body moved on its own command. toji shifted closer to your side, rough hand slowly reaching out to give you some head pats. that’s the best he could do for now.
“heh.” 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 who’d stay by his side throughout it all.
“thanks, toji.” 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 couldn’t 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.
“you okay?” he asks to which you give a weary nod. she’s 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; “c’mere my little girl.”
you happily accept the affection toji gives you. it wasn’t often that he’d 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.
“you’re nice ‘n warm,” you murmur, eyes droopy as you snuggle against toji’s bare chest. the older man chuckles at your comment and his big hands come to rest on your back to hold you in place — to give you a sense of security.
you didn’t 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. he’d 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 eyes—in his own way.
“y’r real pretty. like a doll.”
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.
“pfft.” 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.
“what? did i say somethin’ weird?” toji questions as his hands slowly roam all over your body like they usually would, squeezing and rubbing longer in some spots, “i jus’ said what i observed.”
there was no hiding that lopsided grin on toji’s 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.
“no, no.” you shake your head after giggling. your lips find a spot on his chest to place a kiss upon in response, “it was cute.”
toji huffs at being called cute. no one had ever called him that. it didn’t really hurt his pride or ego — you could call him anything you wanted to and he wouldn’t mind. his rough hand does however give you a light smack on the ass after that.
“y’re lucky i love you, doll.” 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 doesn’t realise that he uttered the three words. the three words he usually hesitates on saying now flowing off the tongue so naturally.
you weren’t going to ruin the moment by teasing him about it. you were just happy that toji didn’t 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.
“i love you too, toji.”
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withahappyrefrain · 5 months
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Somebody to Love
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Summary: Attending a cookout hosted by Penny seemed like the perfect way to kickstart summer. Meeting and falling in love there wasn't on yours or Bradley's bingo list.
Warnings: Language, Bradley being a loverboy, female reader
For @roosterforme's Rocktober event! I'm so sorry it took so long and hope you enjoy it!
The first time you saw Bradley was at the Hard Deck.  
He completely missed you, as much as it pains him to admit. 
In his defense, his eyes were on the ivory keys of the piano, only looking up briefly to revel in the cheers from guests of the Hard Deck as he played. 
You, in his defense, were just trying to get in and out. Considering it was barely seven, you thought you were coming in before things got rowdy.
You were mistaken. 
The show he was putting on was nice to watch while you waited for Penny to be free. But that's all it was, a show. And after a while, you couldn't help but scoff. Was being in the Navy not enough attention? 
The smile on Penny's face when her eyes met yours was worth the wait. You pulled out the coveted book from your bag, raising it in the air as if it were the golden ticket. 
"Amelia is going to be so excited," Penny beamed as she took the book from you, "She's been talking about it for weeks!"
The mention of your former student brought a smile to your face. 
Amelia was a student during your first year of teaching. You felt a kinship to the young girl, whose parents were going through a divorce at the time. You also saw that her love of reading was untapped, blocked by years of past teachers failing to help her learn how to read. 
So you worked with her the whole year, and the summer after that, helping the girl catch up. One summer, Penny offered a bartender job when she heard you were looking for extra money. Over time, the Benjamin women had become more like family than your own. 
It's why you stayed in touch. Why you took on extra shifts occasionally during the school year, when Penny truly needed help at the last minute. Why you made the trip out to the Hard Deck simply to give a book. 
"Stay for a drink? It's on the house," Penny held up an empty glass, hoping the way it gleamed in the light could entice you into staying. 
But you looked around, taking in how many people were there, how loud it was. How the man wearing aviators and a Hawaiian shirt was feeding the crowd with the piano rendition of a song that sounded familiar. 
And simply shook your head. 
"Should get going, it is a school night." The truth was, you'd rather be at home, in your bed reading than staying out late with a bunch of pilots. 
Before you could say goodbye, Penny placed a hand on yours.
"Before you go Birdie, I wanted to let you know that we're celebrating Amelia's middle school graduation two weeks from Saturday. We'd love to have you there." 
You smiled, sincerely flattered that they would want you present for such an event, "I'd love to. Will your man of the hour be there?" 
A giggle escaped from you when you saw Penny's cheeks begin to turn pink. 
Bradley swears if he had looked over at that moment, he wouldn't have let you leave the Hard Deck that night. 
—------------------------
Bradley Bradshaw was not anti-romance, despite what his friends claimed, despite the numerous times he's turned down someone wanting to set him up. 
The idea of romance did appeal to him. The idea of spending the rest of his life with one person, who loved him and wanted to grow a family with him, was very appealing in theory. 
He wasn't against it at all. Just cautious. 
Cautious as he witnessed first hand how dangerous his job was, how it tore families apart. Hesitant because he grew up with the aftermath- the support groups, the sympathetic looks, the empty dining chair that served as a loud, always present reminder of what he and his mother had lost. 
He had been on dates, had been in relationships. They never went anywhere and Bradley was fine with that. The possibility that he may not come back from his deployments lingered in his mind, as did the image of someone receiving a flag and maybe his dog tags. 
Why put someone through that? 
“It's hard, but I wouldn't change a thing about it. You'll understand when it happens to you.” 
His mother’s words rang in his ears. He knew she meant well. Bradley knew those words were true for her. 
But he couldn't see them being true for himself. 
So he came to Amelia’s graduation party with a vegetable tray and no date, despite Penny’s insistence that he could bring someone. 
It's why Bradley walked straight past the kitchen, ignoring the unfamiliar voices. It's why he kept to the people he knew, rather than mingle with strangers. 
And that was fine, enjoyable even. Things were going the way they always went, the way Bradley wanted it. 
Consistent. 
Bradley Bradshaw lived for consistency. Each morning, he'd get up and go to work. Work hard until his bones ache. Spend time with friends and the makeshift family he had found. Go to bed alone. Rinse and repeat. 
Consistent. 
Everything was just fine, until Bradley felt a hand grip his shoulder. When he turned around, he found Jake and his fiancé, Danica (or Venus, as everyone called her), looking at him. 
“Your future wife is in the kitchen. Get in there.” 
—-------------------------------
Bob saw her first. 
It was hard to miss the sound of classic rock blaring from her red Subaru. 
The sounds of eighties rock was a nice change from the Jerry Lewis and Sinatra music Bradley insisted on playing. 
Even nicer was her voice. Sweet, smooth, light. 
She was clearly in her own world, unaware she had an audience. 
Nor would she. Bob knew better than anyone the pains of people walking in on him. So he quietly got out of his car, leaving her to finish the song by herself. 
Reuben was the first one to speak to her. 
Or rather, his daughter was. 
Ava, always determined to explore, ran into the kitchen as soon as he set her on the ground. 
It was easy to find her. Despite being only two, Ava had quite the voice on her. 
Given her shouts about cookies, Reuben wasn’t surprised when he found his daughter in the kitchen, pointing excitedly to a plate of sugar cookies. 
He was a little surprised to see that the person kneeling down to talk to her wasn’t Penny, but rather a woman he had never seen before. 
“Is it okay if I give her a cookie?” She asked, motioning to the sugar cookie she was holding in her hand. 
“As long as you're able to cut her off after two,” Reuben chuckled, “I'm warning you now, she can be hard to convince.” 
You smiled, the corners of your eyes crinkling, the bridge of your nose scrunching up as you looked at Ava, “It'll be tough, but I think I can manage.” 
Javy was the first one to try to include her in the picnic festivities. 
“Hey, don't tell them this is what we’re calling them, but we’re playing beer pong against the old timers in the basement. You in?” He asked. 
“Oh I'm good, but don't worry, your secret is safe with me,” She said with a gentle smile and a wink. 
It was the fact that she sounded assured, content to stay in the kitchen and continue making small talk with some of the wives, away from the hubbub of the picnic, that made him not push. 
Natasha was the first one to have an actual conversation with her. 
In a sea full of testosterone, it was  hard not to notice another woman. Especially one who looked around her age. 
“So how do you know Penny?” You looked rather surprised by Nat’s question, surprised that another person had noticed you in the kitchen and decided to converse.
“Oh, I'm, well, I was Amelia’s third grade teacher. I tutored her for a couple of summers and have helped Penny bartend when she needs extra help,” you explained. 
Natasha recalls Penny mentioning you a few times, now able to put a face to the name. 
“So you're the teacher! Penny said we might see you at the Hard Deck this summer,” Nat grinned, hoping it would help her feel more at ease. 
“I am! I'm still figuring out how exactly I want to spend my summer. First time I won't be doing summer school or tutoring,” you explained, continuing to wash the dishes that had begun to pile up on the counter. 
“Any travel plans? Or family you plan to visit?” Nat asked. 
You shook your head, eyes appearing dismal for a brief moment, “I don't have much family to visit. But I have been meaning to explore the area more, so I might do that.” 
Natasha knew not to press. You didn't owe her any further explanation. 
But out of all people, Jake Seresin was the one to make the connection. 
“I’m sorry, but what did Penny just call you?” He asked, jamming a finger up his ear to clean it out, convinced he heard it wrong. 
“Oh, Birdie!” you explained, flustered, “It’s um….it’s always been a nickname that friends and family have called me, ever since I was a kid. When I told Penny, she started calling me that too.”
Jake recalls the other details he's learned; a love of classic rock, vintage clothes and children, how your face lit up when someone spoke to you, as though you had  been waiting an awfully long time to be noticed, to be acknowledged. 
Your nickname. 
It hits Jake like a fucking freight train. 
“Excuse me, I have to go uh, um, find my wife,” he said abruptly, practically running out of the kitchen. 
Jake quickly found his Venus, tapping her on the shoulder as he ignored the death glare Phoenix was giving him for interrupting. 
“What is-” 
“Birdie. Her nickname is Birdie.” 
Danica’s amber-glazed eyes widened as she shot Natasha a knowing look. 
“Where is she?” 
Which is how Bradley Bradshaw found himself being dragged away from the grill and into Penny's house. 
After all, Bradley didn't have too much common sense. He would insist he was alright, despite losing his beat as he watched his close friends fall in love and get married. 
So they were just helping, helping him find somebody to love. 
“Y'all are being ridiculous, just because she likes the same music-” 
“It's more than that. You just need to see for yourself,” Jake explained, pushing him towards the kitchen. Inside, a sweet voice was talking.
“Peekaboo! I see you!” He could hear a big smile through your voice, “Now it's Ava’s turn!” 
Bradley turned the corner to find you sitting cross legged on the kitchen floor, enabling you to be somewhat closer to eye level with Ava. You and the little toddler were both full of giggles as you continued your game. 
Ava’s small hands flew up to her face, covering her eyes. It was an adorable sight, how she was trying to say the words. A bright smile adorned your face, eyes shining as you played with her. 
“Where did Ava go?” You asked, pretending to look, “There she is!”
A warmth flooded Bradley’s heart as he watched this mysterious woman interact with Ava. It felt familiar,childhood memories of his mom flooding back. But this time, instead of feeling sorrow, a pleasantness surrounded him. 
Strange. 
Ava babbled, causing you to giggle once more. 
“My name is Birdie. Can you say Birdie?”
Oh. 
So that was why everyone thought this was his future wife. 
It was a cute coincidence, nothing more. Yes, it was beyond endearing to watch you interact with Ava, you were obviously great with kids. 
“Roo!” Ava’s coos of her special nickname for Bradley broke him out of his thoughts. 
“What's a Roo?” You asked, your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. The puzzled look on your face was adorable. 
“That would be me. Hey Ava girl,” Bradley kneeled down, his arms open wide, allowing Ava to run over and hug him. 
You instantly recognized him thanks to the memorable mustache. But his smile and eyes were much softer now. His whole demeanor is less cocky and more approachable in Penny’s kitchen. 
Bradley scooped the young toddler into his arms, grinning as Ava giggled. 
“You being good? Trying to persuade people to give you more cookies by being adorable?” Bradley asked the toddler. 
“I'm holding out strong. Don't want her dad to hate me for giving her a sugar rush,” You explained, a soft smile on your face as you watched him interact with Ava. 
“See, the key is to make sure the sugar rush happens when he takes her home,” Bradley grinned, “That way he can't do anything about it.” 
“I'm sure he can ask around regarding who gave her all that sugar though,” you retorted, facing the sink again to continue the dishes. 
“See, that's where you have the advantage; you're not in the group chat,” Bradley balanced Ava on a hip, walking over to the sink to join you. 
You were fun to talk to; able to hold your own with a soft, yet slightly mischievous smile adorning your face. 
“I'm Bradley,” he explained, the spirit of his mother probably screaming that it took him this long to introduce himself. 
“I take that's your actual name, considering that's way too normal to be your callsign,” normally you wouldn't tease a complete stranger like this. But he was easy to talk to and it helped that he was holding an adorable baby like a complete natural. 
“It is. My callsign is Rooster.” The information caused your hands to still. 
“Rooster?” It was too wild to be a coincidence. 
“Yeah, when I was part of my first squadron, I was always the first one to be up. But I also had a tendency to be well, louder than what they would have preferred, which is how I got my callsign Rooster.” Bradley smiled as he recalled the loud complaints of his squadron, which always seemed to die down once they learned he was making breakfast. 
“I, love that. Sorry, I, it's funny your callsign is that. Because it's like a nickname right? My nickname is Birdie,” your speech quickened as you realized you were rambling, “I know that nicknames aren't the same as callsigns. Well, in a way they are, they're both given to you for a reason, right? It's just funny how our nicknames are both-” 
“Excuse me?” You looked up to see your savior came in the form of a bespectacled man who was standing by the door. 
“I was threat-I mean, told by Danica and Phoenix that I needed to get Ava,” The man said, walking over to Bradley. 
“Bo!” Ava exclaimed, reaching for the man. 
“Sure thing Bob,” Bradley said, hanging over the toddler to his friend, unable to stop himself from rolling his eyes at his friends’ schemes. 
“C'mon Ava, let's leave the two soon to be lovebirds alone,” Bob whispered, out of the room before Bradley could say anything.
“Did he just… “
Bradley sighed, “Gotta watch out for that one. He's quiet but can be cheeky when he wants to be.” 
“As opposed to the others, who are just outright cheeky?” You asked. 
Bradley chuckled, “You're catching on. Here, I can dry while you wash?” 
He could be spending time with his squadron. Could be spending time joking with Mav’s old squad, making jokes and talking about the past that he was too young to remember. Could be anywhere but here in the kitchen, helping you do dishes. 
And yet, he didn't mind it at all. Bradley was finding himself enjoying his conversation with you, despite knowing it would earn him several eye rolls and shoulder shoves from Danica and Jake. 
You were surprised he was still here, that he hadn't found an excuse to leave. 
It was a nice change. 
“So you're the teacher Penny talks about?” 
You laughed, “Is that who I'm known as? You're like the third person to ask me that.” 
“Just shows how big of an impact you had.” Your cheeks warmed at the praise. 
“You know, you just try your best. Make sure to listen. Helps that I'm also a child of divorce, you know? Had a lot of pointers,”  you shrugged, but it was clear you were downplaying your efforts. 
“Have you always wanted to be a teacher?” Bradley asked, wanting to keep the conversation going, despite the dishes being done. 
You took your hands out of your pockets, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. Your shoulders shrug as a small smile spreads across your lips. 
“Yeah. I love helping folks, especially kids. I was a camp counselor all throughout high school and I just….felt at home when I was helping other people,” you explained. 
You leaned forward, the scent of jasmine flooding Bradley’s nostrils. 
“It makes sense that I became a teacher. But if you asked me as a kid what I wanted to do as a grown up, I wouldn't have said teaching.” 
Bradley leaned forward. With the sunlight hitting him, you could now see the lighter shades of brown that adorned his curls. 
“A mom. I’ve always wanted to be a mom.” 
“You'll understand when it happens to you.” 
Oh. Okay. 
That's when Bradley Bradley finally gets it. Because he's imagining life with you; moving in together, getting married, having kids. The risk is still there. But he'd rather live with that risk and you than not at all. 
“I know that's silly, but it's true. I mean, it's not even an occupation-” 
“I said I wanted to be a dad when I grew up.” 
Your eyes light up at his admission, feeling at ease and less like a rambling burden. 
“You must have had a really great Dad then.” There was a flash of sorrow in his eyes at the mention of his father. 
“From what I remember. I was only four when he died, but….from what I remember, he was great,” his voice was softer now, his eyes showing he was in another place. 
You inched closer to him, “I'm really sorry, I'm sure that was hard for you and your mom.” 
“It wasn't easy. But she always said she wouldn't change anything. Never really understood that until recently.” His shoulder is touching yours, his long fingers inches away from your thighs. You were hyper aware of the closeness, unsure if moving away would be proper or offensive. 
“Something helped you have that revelation?” 
“Moreso someone.” 
It's impossible to not notice the way his stare lingers on you, how his smile is warm and those whisky eyes are shining bright as he sends a wink your way. It makes your heart flutter; no one has ever looked at you that way before. 
Nerves begin to overtake your brain, causing you to look away from his intense gaze. 
“Should we um, get back to the picnic?” You all but mumbled. There's no desire to leave him, but you don't want to get your hopes up. 
“Can I at least get your number before we do that?” Bradley asks, eagerly getting out his phone. 
Bradley Bradshaw hates accidents, except for the one that led him to this kitchen, to you. 
His forwardness is uncharted territory. There's no wondering or second guessing; Bradley wants to stay in touch, wants to keep talking to you. 
It's nice. It's unfamiliar. It's exciting. It's sending your doubts and anxiety into a tailspin. 
Your fingers fumble for your phone, opening up a new contact for him to fill out. His fingers brush against yours when he hands you his phone, little sparks flying up your spine. 
Bradley simply smiles when your eyes look at the screen of his phone. Your brows knit together in confusion, the bridge of your nose scrunching up as you read over the words again and again, eyes surely playing tricks on you. 
“Um, I think you made a mistake Bradley?” you hold up his phone, “The name for this  contact is Mrs. Bradshaw?” It also has a heart emoji next to it, but that wasn't worth mentioning. 
“Oh, it's no mistake,” Bradley grins. 
The only sound you can let out is a confused huh. 
“You just gotta put your number right there, and then you're all set.” Bradley points to it, an assured smile remaining on his face. 
“Are you….are you going to change the name?” You asked, dumbfounded. 
Bradley shrugs, “Nah. I'll know it's you. But I can put the word ‘future’ in parentheses if you want it to be more accurate.” 
Your fingers have a mind of their own, typing in those desired ten numbers. Bradley takes his phone from your hands but not before placing a gentle kiss on your burning cheek. 
His lips feel soft, the hairs of his mustache gently tickling your skin. When you turn your head, your lips are now inches away from yours. 
You try to ground yourself, try to look away from his lips, try to ignore the warm, fuzzy feeling that's overtaking your body. 
“Sorry Birdie, but I'm old fashioned. First kiss shouldn't be until the first date,” He winks. 
What floors you more, his confidence or his bold desire for you? 
Raising an eyebrow, you ask, “And when will that be?” 
Bradley chuckles, “Whenever you want Birdie.” 
He can't be serious. But what would he gain from leading you on, other than Penny’s wrath? 
You straighten your shoulders, trying to hold your own against his large frame.
“Tomorrow at six,” You muster up all the confidence you can, preparing yourself for him to drop the act. 
“Done. Do you prefer Italian or French?” 
“Neither as I'm lactose intolerant.” This was it. Was he going to stop the act, once he knew it would require more effort. 
“How do you feel about Thai? I know a great spot. Never been but it's been praised by Jake and Danica and let me tell you, that woman does not give out praise easily.” 
You giggled, “I could tell. By the way, is there a reason he calls her Venus?” 
“Short version; he's obsessed with her. Been that way since they met in the parking lot of a coffee shop. You should ask them how they met; they give different answers and it's hilarious,” Bradley explains, a gleam in his eyes as he thinks about one of his favorite couples. 
“I'd like that. But if you go with me,” you asked, “Kinda random to just walk up to a couple you don't know and ask how they met.” 
Again, you expect Bradley to falter. He's clearly more outgoing than you, so why would he want someone whose first instinct wasn't to strike up a conversation with strangers? 
“I will, but only if you confirm we’re on for Thai tomorrow at six.” 
Surely, he couldn't be serious. But that sweet smile and shining brown eyes said otherwise. 
“You really gonna take me out?” you crossed your arms over your chest. 
“Of course! I mean, I'm more than happy to take you out tonight, but you said tomorrow, so I'm sticking to it. Plus, it gives me time to get you flowers. Speaking of which, what are your favorite? You seem like a sunflower gal,” his eyes reminded you of an eager puppy, absolutely endearingly adorable. 
“What makes you think that?” He was absolutely right, but you wouldn't let him know that yet. 
Bradley shrugged, “When you smile, it reminds me of sunshine. Also, if it want to get technical, birds also like sunflower seeds.” 
You couldn't help but throw your head back and laugh. Your laugh was sweet, bursting with joy. It calmed down Bradley’s racing heartbeat. 
 “And what should I get you, Rooster? Corn meal?”
His corniness almost made you forget that he literally compared you to the sun. 
Almost. 
His laugh was deep, bellowing deep from his stomach, making you feel warm all over. 
“You kill me Mrs. Bradshaw, now let's go get you that story,” He gently takes your hand into his, entwining his fingers with yours. 
The nickname makes you less confused and more certain Bradley would be sticking around.
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rkvriki · 4 months
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GOT ME THINKING NONSENSE sim jaeyun ౨ৎ
synopsis! you get paired up with jake, your sweet classmate who’s always willing to help you, but while you’re both working, he seems to be the one needing help. wc! 5.1k cw! porn with barely no plot unprotected sex (wrap it up yall!!), SUB!JAKE, dom!reader obvi, oral (m! receiving), jake is whiny and reader is just a tad bit mean, unexpirienced but not virgin jake, had huge writers block in the beggining pls spare me 😣
BREAK THE SKIN MASTERLIST
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You could still feel the high heat in your body when you were walking away from your and Heeseng’s place. You probably didn’t look the most presentable, cheeks flush, hair a little bit tousled and your clothes were most likely all wrinkled from being messily thrown out. The walk from your apartment to Jake’s wasn’t longer than 10 minutes since he lived quite close. You checked your phone and it had been 6 minutes past the time you had planned with Jake so you tried to walk a little faster, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling between your legs, the aftermath of your and Heeseung’s sins.
You had met Jake during one of the classes you had together when one day you were late and the sit next to him was the only one available. He was the usual classmate who didn’t talk much but still had a good group friend, in which Heeseung was included. You two didn’t talk much unless when you ask him to help you with something and to you it almost looked as if he avoided talking to you. You often noticed how his cheeks warmed up when you talked to him or how his eyes flickered from yours to the environment around him, which you found cute and made you bite back a smirk each time you interacted. You would be lying if you said you didn’t find Jake attractive. His face looked like it could’ve been sculpted by the Gods above, and when he wore his glasses you swore you could drop all the dignity you had left for him.
It wasn’t too long after that you reached Jake’s apartment building. You took your phone out, texting him that you had reached his house. You didn’t have to wait long to see how good Jake looked today. Sporting basic jeans with a striped polo sweater and his usual black specs, he looked better than ever. Before your mind could wander any further, you walked towards the entrance, greeting him with a smile and following him upstairs and inside his apartment. When you first walked in, you noticed right away how neat his place looked, just like him.
“Nice place you got.” You said with a smile, making him look back at you with a surprised expression. “Oh? Thanks, though! I’m not very good at decorating but I tried my best here.” Jake answered with a shy chuckle. “Yeah, I could tell you did.”
He leads you further into the hallway, entering the door to his room. His room was a reflection of himself. Anyone could tell this was his room just from the way it’s organized and coordinated. The books on the shelves were all neatly placed and organised in alphabetic order. His desk was free of clutter and had only the necessary things placed above it, that, if you considered a picture of what you assumed was his dog necessary. Your eyes found Jake’s and you could see him tense up when you did so. 
“Shall we get to work then?” You asked with a smile. “Yeah, yes, of course.” He said quickly moving to sit by his desk. You put your things down and sat next to him, your thighs almost touching since the desk was clearly made for only one person to sit there. You pulled out your laptop and opened the document your teacher had sent you with all the instructions.
“I think we could divide the topics for each other and then discuss which information to keep..” Jake suggested, his eyes flickering between the various topics shown on the screen. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea, Jakey.” The nickname slipped faster than you could catch, but you don’t regret it, especially after seeing how Jake’s ears slowly turned red. You bit your bottom lip to prevent the smirk threatening to form.
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You had been working for a little past an hour and you could feel your eyes getting tired from looking at your computer screen for so long. From your peripheral vision, you could see Jake running a hand through his raven hair with a heavy sigh, making your eyes turn to look his way. With your head propped on your hand, you admired as he scrolled through endless reports, trying to find any good content he could for the presentation.
He hadn't noticed your staring, too focused on the screen ahead of him. Your eyes moved down his body. His sleeves had been pulled up a little, just below his elbows, showing off the veins that ran down to his hands. Oh, his hands. Something you always stared at. Anytime you would ask him for help in class you would always get distracted by the hands of the man beside you as he used them to point things out in your textbook. You would almost drool as you stared at his thick fingers, letting your mind wander further than it should.
Obviously, you didn’t keep these things for yourself. This had been a hot topic on your late-night calls with Yunjin, the one you would always run to when you needed feminine advice and didn’t want to hear the constant nagging Jay gave any time you talked about boys. The girl would always laugh at you, mentioning that you must have a thing for nerdy-looking guys or, in her words “pathetic men” (her theory got confirmed when you told her you fucked Heeseung). It wasn’t totally false. It is true that you liked weak men who wouldn’t hesitate to get on their knees for you. Blame you for being tired of guys with big egos who think they’re all that.
Another big sigh, almost groan, snapped you out of your thoughts. You looked at Jake and saw him leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed. “Everything alright?” You asked as you slid your chair closer to his. “Yeah, sorry. Just can’t find any good info for my topics.” He said as he nodded his head towards the screen in front of him. You let out a small sigh as your lips pout with pity, pulling your chair even closer to his. “Don’t be too harsh on yourself, Jakey.” You told him as your hand made its way to his thigh, feeling it tense at the touch. You leaned your body towards his way “You know you can always ask me for help.” our hand moves upwards “Anytime.” You finished with a smile, leaving that last word floating in the air with an uncertain meaning. Jake’s breath got stuck in his throat and he felt the weight of the last word that left your lips. The gears in his head twisted and turned as he tried not to show how the way you were smiling up at him affected him.
You sat back straight in your chair, acting as if you didn’t know what effect you left on him. “Let's ge back to work, yeah?”
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It had been a few hours since you started working. During the whole time you could see Jake squirming in his seat, maybe from the tension in the air, so thick that it could be could with a knife. With a sigh, you closed your laptop with a thud, your hands falling to your lap as you turned to look at Jake who seemed to avoid looking you in the eye. 
“I guess this is all for today, Jakey.” You said smiling at him. “We can talk tomorrow in class and choose another day to meet again, maybe at my place next time, yeah?” You asked him as you started getting up from your seat, him doing the same. “Oh yeah, we can do that. I was about to finish this part as well so you’re all free to go.” You nodded at his words, your eyes subtly looking him up and down. His hands twitched in his sides. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
Reaching his door, he opened it to let you out. You looked back at him one last time with a slight smirk. His cheeks warmed up and he swayed in his place, suddenly feeling awkward in the loud silence. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” You said, now fully smiling. “See you, y/n.” Jake said not moving from his spot. 
You walked away from his door, and as soon as you were out of sight, Jake moved to close the door, resting his back against it as he released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He brought his cold hands to his cheeks, trying to heat them down. He knew working with you wasn’t going to be an easy task.
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This cycle of going back and forth between each other’s houses has been going on for a few weeks now and the project was almost done. The thick tension between you two every time you were together was undeniable and it had Jake feeling tense around you.
Ever since you pulled that thing the first time you went to his house, Jake could seem to fully focus when he was around you, always getting distracted by whatever you did. Even during classes, you seemed to purposely sit next to him, only to spend half of the time subtly touching the side of his leg and moving up to touch his tight. Jake was going crazy from your shenanigans and they were the only thing running through his mind when he laid in bed wide awake, head full of you and his hand running down from his tummy to where his body needed him the most.
It’s not like Jake never had sex or related activities, but he wasn’t the most experienced. He had only had sex with his ex and only serious girlfriend he had and it wasn’t anything too out of this world. He knew you’ve had your fair share of sexual encounters, he knew you had plenty of experience and he knew you were damn good at it because he has heard stories from the men you were with. If you asked him a long time ago, this wouldn’t bother Jake, but now, with all you’ve been doing to him, it makes him feel a bit insecure, because if your teasing escalates further he knows he could never compete with those men. But maybe that’s not what you think.
You were waiting for Jake since he was coming over to finish and wrap up the project. You had spent a good two hours in front of the mirror, trying to make yourself look more presentable for him, something you would never admit to anyone even if they paid you. It wasn’t too late but you could see the sun setting from the view in your window. You were about to check your phone when you heard the doorbell ring, meaning Jake had already arrived.
Walking towards the front door, you checked yourself one last time in the mirror before opening the door. “Hey, Jake! Come on in!” You said stepping aside so he could enter your house. “Hey, um, I brought some snacks, since it’s getting kinda late and I remembered you said you liked these so…” He trailed off, showing you two packs of your favourite snacks, making you surprised he even remembered that. “Oh my god, Jake! You definitely didn’t have to. Thank you, though!” You said smiling at him, his cheeks warming up as usual. “Anyways, let’s get started before it gets too late for you.”
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The project was going smoothly since today you two were only doing the final touches and reviewing the whole thing. The dynamic between you and Jake today felt different. There were more lingering touches coming from him who you would accidentally touch his hand but he wouldn’t move away or flinch like he usually does. You were surprised that he acting this way, but you were definitely not complaining, you like this less conserved side of him.
You tried to focus on the text on your screen, but you couldn't help but let your eyes drift off to where Jake was sitting working on the powerpoint. It’s not like he didn’t look good any other day, but maybe it was the dim warm light in your room or maybe it was the moon shining from your window behind him, you weren’t exactly sure, but something about him today had him look so good and you couldn’t avoid the warm sensation in the bottom of your tummy that made your thighs press together.
Your inner turmoil was interrupted by Jake’s little sigh, making your eyes focus back on him. “I’m finished with this.” he said turning to look at you. “Do you need any help with that or…?” he trailed off. “Oh! Um no, I’m finished as well.” a thought came up to your head. “Can I check the powerpoint?” you asked leaning a little towards him. “Ah, yes, of course.” He answered, adjusting his glasses.
You pushed your chair closer to his, purposely making your thigh touch his. Jake felt his heart race when you got suddenly so close, the scent of your sweet yet intoxicating perfume invading his senses. His eyes drifted from your focused face down to your exposed neck, making him lick his dry lips as if to stop himself from letting his lips fall into its soft skin. He shook his head, trying to shake the thoughts of you out of his mind and maintain his composure.
“Well, this looks pretty good!” you said smiling at him, almost missing the way his eyes quickly fall from your eyes to your lips. “Oh, really? Thank y-” “You did such a good job, Jakey.” You interrupted him, as you let your hand fall on his thigh. His lips opened and closed as he tried to speak but no words came out. “You worked so hard on this.” your hand started moving up and down, making him tense up. “Think you deserve a reward, don’t you?” his eyes doubled in size as you spoke so softly, yet your words were filled with nothing but lust.
“Answer me, Jake.” you said, leaning closer to his face. “I- Yeah, please.” he answered, voice barely above a whisper. Your lips immediately connected to his, making him let out a low moan. His lips felt soft against yours, fitting almost like two pieces of a puzzle connecting. Your hand moved further upwards, now dangerously close to where his bulge was growing. His wands that were awkwardly laid by his side moved to lay on your hips, gripping them when he felt your tongue swiping against his bottom lips. He gave you access and you started exploring his mouth, tongues rubbing against each other, making both of you moan at each other’s tastes. 
Kissing Jake felt heavenly, almost better than anyone you’ve kissed. It felt good to finally be the one leading. You felt so powerful with him writhing against you, yearning for more than just your kisses. You pulled away so both of you could catch your breath. Jake looked up at you, lidded eyes with a glow on them and his lips red and swollen from you biting on them occasionally. “Fuck, Jake. You look heavenly.” He only answered by chasing your lips, already missing the feeling of your lips on his. You pecked his lips before pulling away again, making him let out a whine. Your pussy throbbed at the sound, never had heard a man make such a beautiful sound, almost like a melody to you. 
“Let’s move to the bed, yeah?” you asked breathlessly, making him nod eagerly. Both of you stumbled as you got off from your chairs, almost bumping into each other. Jake was the first one to lay in your bed, head hitting your soft pillows. You followed him, crawling in his way, until your legs were straddling his lap, sitting on it. You leaned down, taking his lips on your again. The kiss was messy and heated, both of you probably getting coated in spit but neither could care any less about the mess. His bulge felt delicious as it grew harder and harder below you, rubbing against your clothed core.
You grinded experimentally against his clothed member to which he let out a groan, feeling the heavenly friction of you against him. You kept slowly and teasingly grinding against him as your hands ran down from his face to his chest stopping by his nipples that felt hard against your fingertips. You pressed on them, his hips bucking up as he let out a yelp, not expecting the sudden stimulation. You smirked against him, pulling away from the kiss, a string of spit connecting you both. Your hands left his nipples to pull at the bottom of his shirt, indulging him to take it off. You stared at his toned torso, not expecting to see the lines on his abs, something you would deal with later.
Your mouth made its way to his neck, starting by kissing all over until you found his sweet spot. Your hands started moving back up again to his nipples, rubbing them, making him whine again as he grinded harder against you. “Never had your nipples played like this, Jakey?” you asked, pulling away from his neck “Tell me, baby. Do you like it?” he had his eyes closed and his brows furrowed as he tried to think of what to say. “F-fuck yes” he stuttered “Feels so good!” he said with a whine, making you smirk at his already fucked out state. 
You lowered yourself, mouth moving to kiss from the dip in his chest, down to his abs, sucking on the area there, creating red marks all around. Your mouth kissed lower, following his happy trail until you reached the line of his pants. “Can I take this off, baby?” you asked him, pawing at the button. He nodded quicker than he would like to admit. “Need words, Jakey.” you demanded, wanting to hear him voice out his consent. “Yes, y/n, please, fuck”
With his green light, you started unbuttoning his pants and undoing the zipper. You tapped his hip, signalling him to raise them so you could take them off. He did as he was told and you pushed the jeans off, leaving him in just his boxers that already had a damp spot where the tip of his cock was. You stared at the bulge, already noticing that he was probably huge, making you feel a little nervous about fitting him in you. You squirmed in your spot, feeling an uncomfortable sticky feeling in your underwear, making you aware of how wet you were getting.
Jake whined, snapping you out of your thoughts, looking at you with eyes begging for you to touch him. You smiled at his helpless state “What d’you want, Jakey? Need you to speak or I won’t know.” He whined at your words, his brain feeling like a mush inside his head. “N-need you to touch it, please, just do something.” He answered, squirming in your bed as he felt more and more desperate. You didn’t say anything else as your hand moved to his bulge. Poor baby, was hard as a rock. It probably even hurt. You squeeze his length, pre cum escaping the tip and staining his boxers even more. “More, please! I need more,y/n!” he said with a whine. 
You took some pity on him and your hands automatically moved to remove his boxers from him, cock hitting his stomach with a bounce, Fuck, he really was huge, and thick. A long vein ran from the base to the tip and you wanted nothing more than to do that. You lowered your mouth on his cock, licking up from the base until you reached the tip, engulfing it with your lips. You licked a stripe on the slit, making him groan at the delicious but almost overstimulating feeling. Your mouth moved down, taking almost his whole length. One of your hands wrapped around what you couldn’t fit, while the other moved to play with his balls, his hips bucking inside you making you gag around him.
The vision Jake had of you ass up and face down on his cock was what he hoped heaven looked like. Your mouth felt warm and heavenly and he already felt brain fucked. He had never felt such pleasure in his life and he just knew this was gonna be the suck of his life. He dared to look down again and his eyes met yours. He could bust right there and then with just the look you gave him. Your eyes were dark, pupils blown out, making him feel so powerless underneath you. His eyes closed shut when he felt you hollowing your cheeks to suck him even harder.
You could tell he was close. His hips were twitching as well as his whole cock and you could feel him throb in your mouth. You removed his length out of your mouth and licked down to his balls, licking them as your hand moved to jerk him off at a quick pace. His breath was getting shorter as he felt his release come closer and closer. “Oh, f-fuck! Please, Please, y/n!” He didn’t even know what he was begging for, his whole body felt numb, except for the knot on his stomach getting tighter and tighter. 
Your lips moved to suck on his tip as your hand kept jerking him up and down. His cock started twitching hard in your grip “y/n I-I’m gonna cum-!” His warm cum spurt inside your mouth, making you moan at the feeling of him filling you up. He was moaning loudly as he rode out his orgasms, chest heaving up and down quickly as he tried to keep breathing. You gave him one last hard suck, making him shudder in overstimulation. 
You moved to eye level with him, hand moving up to brush his hair away from his face. “Such a good boy for me, yeah?” He nodded in your hold, face flushed and eyes teary from his orgasm. Your lips met his, tongues instantly meeting. He could taste himself on you, making him groan as the bitter taste touched his buds. You pulled away from the kiss, sitting on him fully clothed. Your hands pulled at the hem of your top, taking it off and leaving your torso naked as you weren’t wearing a bra. Jake’s mouth gaped as he stared at your bare chest, hands twitching at his side, wanting to touch them.
“You can touch them, Jakey.” you smiled sweetly at him, showing him you were comfortable with whatever he wanted to do. He let out a shaky breath as his hands hesitated to travel to your chest. He held your boobs in his hand, fitting them perfectly in his calloused hands. He didn’t really know what to do so you moved your hands to hold his, moving his thumbs to rub and twist your hardened nipples. You quietly moaned at the feeling of his rough fingers touching your sensitive buds. You removed your hands from his, letting him experience you by himself. He pinched on your nipples, making you yelp in surprise. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt-” “Do it again.” you told him “W-What? Are you sure?” he asked hesitantly. “Yes, I liked it, Jakey. Was just surprised.” You answered, smiling at him.
His hands returned to your nipples pinching and rubbing them, making you clench around nothing. As much as you enjoyed the feeling you were getting impatient and needed to have him inside you as soon as possible. You grabbed his hands, taking them off of you as you stood up on the ground to take your bottoms off. You slowly pulled them down along with your panties. His eyes carefully watched as you stripped for him and him only.
You straddled him again, your pussy sitting right on top of his cock, making both of you moan at the feeling. Jake grabbed your hips up and sat against the headboard. “Wanted to have a better look at your face when you fuck me.” he said looking up at you with his puppy eyes. You were out of words so you cradled his face in your hands as you kissed him again. Your hips start moving as if on their own, rubbing our cunt against his length, making the tip bump against your clit. He whined inside your mouth as you swallowed his sounds. 
You pulled away, hoisting your hips up as your hand grabbed his length and aligned the tip to your entrance. “W-wait!” he suddenly said making you stop in your movements. “Everything ok?” you asked worried that he might have been uncomfortable. “No, I just- You weren’t prepped and-” your lips clashing against his interrupted him, making him let out a protesting sound. “Don’t worry bout that, Jakey.” You simply said as you grabbed his length again positioning it on your gaping hole.
You slowly sink on him, your mouth opening in a silent moan while he whines in your ear, hands moving to circle your waist. You bottomed down and stayed still for a while to adjust to his big and thick size. The only thing heard was both of your heavy breaths. His hands were comfortingly rubbing up and down your back. When you felt ready you moved your head to look at him. “Ready?” you asked him and he nodded eagerly at you.
You started by slowly circling your hips around his length, both of you moaning at the euphoric feeling. He rested his head against your shoulder, panting in your ear. You circled your arms around his neck as you started to pick up your face. The room was filled with the sound of skin hitting skin and the squelch coming from your pussy. “F-fuck, y/n! Never felt s-so good.” Jake whispered as he felt his eyes roll back at the feeling of your raw cunt moving on his hard cock. “Yeah? You’re filling me up so good, Jakey. Even let you go in me raw.” You grabbed his head to make him look at you. His eyes were low and he had drool almost dripping out of the corners of his open mouth.
You moved around him at a now stable pace, moaning loudly when the tip of cock found the spongy spot inside you. “F-fuck, Jake!” he was stretching you out so good, taking you to cloud 9. You looked back at him, his head leaning back on the headboard, completely fucked out. “Look at you.” you said making him open his eyes, barely keeping them from closing again. “Fucked you dumb, didn’t I?” he nodded even though you weren’t really looking for an answer. “Poor baby, just wanted to be a good boy for someone, isn’t that right, Jakey?” he whined at your words, knowing they were fully true so he nodded his head as his eyes got even more teary, one tear even dropping out. You laughed at his state, knowing he had nothing on his brain but your pussy. 
You felt the too-familiar pressure on your tummy starting to build up and his cock twitching again. You bottomed out on him again, grinding your hips down on him as you tried to reach your climax. “Oh God! I’m getting close, Jakey.” you said in a whiny moan” You’re gonna cum with me, yeah?” you felt his cock twitch harder inside you as he nodded at your question, wanting to fulfil your request. Your breath was getting laboured but you tried to maintain your composure for him. 
Jake could feel you clench around him, knowing you were almost reaching your high. He slowly moved his hand from your waist to where your bodies met, rubbing on your clit. You let out a surprised yelp as you squeezed hard against him, eyes widening at the unexpected contact. “F-Fuck, Jake!” you said breathing heavily. “You make me feel so good.” Both of your lips met, desperately trying to reach both of your releases. You grinded faster on him, now moaning in sync against each other mouths. His finger rubbed faster on your swallowed nub, making your head spin as you threw it back.
“J-Jakey, I’m so close!” you said as you felt your thighs burn from exhaustion. “Me too, f-fuck!” His hips started slightly bucking upwards, trying to match with your movements. Your synced movements had you moaning loudly, not even caring if you’re gonna get complaints from your neighbours later. The sound of Jake’s whines getting louder along with the frequent twitching of his cock indicated that he was just as close as you. You sped up your movements as you felt the knot in your tummy about to burst.
“J-Jake, I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cu-” you were cut off by your orgasm, almost stopping in your movements with a silent scream. The feeling of your juices releasing against his cock had Jake cumming right after you with a loud whine. The aggressive twitching of his cock along with the feeling of his warm seeds painting your insides felt heavenly. You looked down to see a white ring form around his length, slowly moving up and down as you rode both of your orgasms out.
Your heads rested against each others’ shoulders as you stayed like that for a while, you with the feeling of his hands rubbing shapes on your back soothingly. The sound of both of your panting filled the silent room. The sound of traffic could also be heard from outside and it made you go back to your senses. You got your head up, urging Jake to do the same. You pulled him in one last kiss before you pulled his length out of you, making both of you hiss. You got up and walked towards the bathroom to grab a washcloth. You cleaned yourself up first before going back and cleaning his length for him. He shook from still being sensitive, making you chuckle at him.
You tossed the cloth onto the ground and laid next to him, sighing happily when your head hit the comfort of your pillows. Your hand rested on his chest rubbing circles on it as you simply looked at his peaceful state. The silence in the room wasn’t uncomfortable and you felt like you both made a silent rule of not talking about what happened. He grabbed your hand from his chest and gave it a kiss. “Thank you for taking care of me.” He said as he felt his cheeks warm up. You chuckle and prop your head on your hand to get a better view of him.
“Well, thank me when we get a good grade. This was my thanks in advance.” You said, making both of you laugh. “Yeah, maybe I’ll be the one rewarding you next time.”
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fatecantstopme · 1 month
Text
My Past, My Present, My Future
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader, Endverse!Dean x reader
Summary: You get dragged to the future along with Dean to witness the aftermath of the apocalypse. Follows the plot of "The End" (Season 4, Episode 4)
Warnings: mentions of death, canon violence, cursing, use of pet names. SMUT, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V), dirty talk.
A/N: If I tell you too much, it'll ruin the story...enjoy!
It had been 2009 when you and Dean had fallen asleep in a hotel in Kansas City. You were awoken by the sound of your boyfriend's voice muttering "What the hell?"
You opened your eyes to find yourself in a completely trashed room--it looked like an actual bomb had gone off. It took you a moment to realize it was the same room you'd fallen asleep in.
"Dean?" you asked in confusion.
He was staring out the window, so you joined him, the two of you now staring out a what remained of the city.
"What happened?" you whispered.
"I have no idea." He looked back at you, worry etched into his face. "We should get moving. See if we can find anyone else."
As the two of you walked through the city streets, you found yourselves completely alone--that is, until you came across a little girl crouched in an alleyway all alone.
As the little girl attacked Dean, you saw the word "Croatoan" painted on a brick wall. Dean defended himself, knocking the girl unconscious.
You simply pointed to the word, a look of dread on your face. Dean's gaze followed your finger and the same expression crossed his features.
"Shit," he muttered.
Suddenly, a group of infected people rounded the corner and spotted the two of you. You both took off running, desperate to avoid becoming their next meal.
"Dead end!" you yelled at Dean, but neither of you had time to figure out your next move. The infected people are still behind you when a heavily armed military unit opened fire on the group.
The commotion gave you and Dean the time you needed to escape. The two of you stayed hidden until nightfall. When you emerged, you noticed a sign on the fence surrounding the entrance to the city.
"Dean," you said softly, pointing to the sign. "Croatoan Hot Zone."
He stepped forward to get a better look. "August 1st, 2014? How...?"
"Great," you muttered. "So we're in the future."
"Apparently...and it ain't pretty."
You shared a look and muttered "Angels," in unison.
You managed to find an abandoned car that still had gas, so Dean hot-wired it and the two of you sped off. You were desperately trying to find a cell signal or even a radio signal when Zachariah made an appearance in the backseat of the car.
"I thought I smelled your stink on this Back to the Future crap," Dean growled.
In response, Zachariah simply began to read a Newspaper he'd brought with him. The headlines were dark, detailing some of the terrible events that had occurred in this morbid future.
"How the hell did you find us?" Dean asked in annoyance.
"Human informants from some of the fringier religious groups," Zachariah answered.
"That guy on the street last night," you said to Dean, who nodded.
"Send us back. Now," Dean demanded.
"No can do. The two of you are staying put in 2014 for a few days so you can see exactly what happens to the world if Dean continues to say no to Michael."
"You're an ass," you muttered.
Dean smirked a little. "As much as I love having (Y/N/N) as my copilot, why'd you have to drag her into this?"
"Don't worry, she'll be fine," Zachariah said with a wave of his hand. "She's here because she might be the only person who can convince you to do the right thing. She needs to see just how bad it gets almost as much as you need to."
Before either you or Dean could respond, Zachariah disappeared, zapping himself back to wherever the hell he hung out.
"Have I mentioned how much I hate angels?" you mumbled under your breath.
Dean simply nodded. "Me too, sweetheart."
"Where we headed?"
"Bobby's."
You kept your thoughts to yourself. Dean didn't need you to tell him it was unlikely Bobby had survived this, especially being wheelchair-bound. He wasn't a fool, but you knew it was better to let him have just a little bit of hope.
**********
As expected, Bobby's house was empty, save for his wheelchair and an absolute mess of junk. Dean was silent as he surveyed the room, putting the wheelchair back upright with a sad sigh.
He went to the mantel behind Bobby's desk and pried it open, pulling out Bobby's old journal. In it, he found a picture of several men with shotguns posing in front of a sign for Camp Chitaqua, Bobby and Cas among them.
He held the picture up for you to see and you exhaled softly. "Road trip?"
He nodded and the two of you headed for the camp. You managed to sneak past the guards, but as you were making your way farther into the camp, Dean grabbed your arm.
You followed his gaze and realized his once-beautiful Impala was parked off to the side completely junked out.
"Oh not you too, Baby," he whispered as he leaned forward to inspect the car.
You would have laughed if you hadn't been staring down the barrel of your own future.
"Dean--" the rest of your sentence was silenced as you fell to the ground, knocked unconscious by someone behind you.
The man was fast enough that both you and Dean were unconscious without a single sound.
When your eyes fluttered open some time later, you found yourself seated in a wooden chair, wrists gently bound to the arms. You saw Dean sitting on the floor a few feet away from you, arms cuffed to a ladder bolted to the floor. He wasn't moving and you whispered his name in worry.
"So you're awake." Had you not been staring at Dean when you heard the voice, you would have been certain it had been him talking.
You looked around, jaw dropping as Dean stepped out from his place against the wall behind you. It was Dean, but it wasn't your Dean. His face looked a little more haggard and the light in his eyes was dimmed almost to extinction.
"Who--how--?" you tried to ask.
"I could ask you the same question."
You looked back over at Dean's unconscious form and the other Dean sighed.
"He'll be fine...as long as you answer some questions. I know neither of you are some kind of supernatural creature--trust me, I tried all the tests. But he carries every weapon on him that I do and well--there's a striking resemblance." He trailed off for a moment. "Then there's you...any chance you can explain why you look like my dead wife's identical twin?"
You were saved from responding by the sounds of your Dean stirring. "What the hell?" he muttered as he realized he was cuffed in place.
"Thanks for joining us," the other Dean stated. "I was just asking your friend here why you look like my doppelgänger. Care to share?"
Dean looked between you and the older version of himself and sighed slowly. "Probably because I am you--well, the you from 2009. And she's (Y/N) from 2009. We were dragged here to 2014 courtesy of Zachariah."
Future Dean nodded. "Sounds like something he would do. He always was a dick."
You smirked a little, appreciating that somethings never changed. However, your mind was still reeling from the words Future Dean had said to you mere seconds before your Dean had woken up...dead wife.
"As much as I'd like to believe you, I need to be sure." Future Dean crouched down in front of your Dean, eyes narrowed slightly. "Tell me something only we would know."
Your Dean flicked his gaze to you for a moment before turning back to meet his own stare. "We were 19. Rhonda Hurley made us try on her satin panties. They were pink. And you know what? We kinda liked it."
You giggled lightly at his admission and Future Dean cracked a small smile and muttered, "Touché."
Future Dean stood back up, turning his attention to you. You were surprised to see the sadness in his green eyes--a look you'd only ever seen once before.
"You haven't looked at me like that since Jo and Ellen died," you said softly.
Future Dean grimaced. "A lot has happened in the past five years, (Y/N). I carry a hell of a lot more weight than I did in 2009."
You waited for him to continue, as you knew he would.
"A lot of shit happened--really bad shit. The apocalypse, demons, releasing the Croatoan virus...we lost a lot of good people, people I cared about." He sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face. "Three years ago, a small team of us tried to infiltrate a demon lair in an attempt to get Lucifer's location. I led one team, (Y/N) led the other. I don't know how, but they knew we were coming. I couldn't get my whole team out, but (Y/N)--she-she fought until the very end. She made certain her whole team made it out of there alive."
Your breath caught in your chest as you let his words sink in. You could hear the heartbreak in his voice, even though it was obvious he was trying to hide it. Your Dean let out a soft pained sound and you felt the strong urge to go to him, but the ropes around your wrists held you in place.
Future Dean continued, "When I found out they'd left her behind, I went back...the demons had already cleared out, having gotten what they wanted. I found her..." He trailed off, gaze finally raising to meet yours. "I found you...broken and bleeding. I held you in my arms as you took your last breath. I carried you back home and I built your pyre. I wouldn't let anyone else near you. I lost something that day I could never replace, and it changed me forever."
"Dean," you whispered softly. Tears filled your (y/e/c) eyes as you stared into his mossy green ones. "I'm so sorry."
He almost laughed at your response. "I just told you that you die because of me and you're the one who's sorry?" He let out a pained chuckle. "You always did love me more than I deserved."
Your expression was soft and your smile even softer. "I don't blame you. It doesn't matter why or how it happened--it wasn't your fault. I make my own choices, as you well know. So if I chose to stay behind to save other people, then that was my decision and the consequences are for me to bear."
He closed his eyes for a few moments, allowing your words to wash over him. He'd never even imagined he would have the pleasure of hearing your voice again, let alone see your smile, or hear your laugh. He felt his armor crack just enough that a sliver of the Dean you had always loved shone through. It terrified him, your ability to affect him even now, but he knew his love for you had never dimmed and never would.
"What about Sam?" your Dean asked, breaking the silence.
"There was a heavy weight showdown in Detroit a few years back. From what I heard, Sam didn't make it out."
"From what you heard?" Dean asked in shock. "You mean you weren't with him?"
"We hadn't spoken since 2009."
You had your own opinions on Dean's decision to part ways with Sam and you'd been very vocal about it. You could tell by your Dean's expression that he was shocked and guilty about how that decision had played out.
Future Dean turned his gaze to you and you saw the same regret in his eyes that you'd seen in your Dean's. But something about his expression and the intensity of his gaze made you wonder if he was regretting the same thing as your Dean.
Future Dean exhaled slowly and averted his eyes again, pulling his invisible mask back down. "I have a mission, so I have to go. The two of you are going to stay here for the time being. I can't have the younger version of me running around the camp and there are quite a few people here that remember you, (Y/N). So stay here and don't cause any trouble."
You shot a look to your Dean who grumbled something about being left chained up. Future Dean gave you one last sad look before going out the door and leaving you two behind.
"How long until you get yourself out of those cuffs?" you teased softly.
"How long until you squeeze your hands out of that rope future me barely tied?" Dean sniped back.
You smiled and shifted your left hand so you could grab ahold of the knot Future Dean had tied. It took you less than 10 seconds to get it untied and even fewer to release your other hand.
Dean shot you a grin. "That's my girl."
You rolled your eyes, scanning the room for something to pick the handcuff lock with. "You're the one who didn't tie them tightly."
"Future me," he emphasized. "Clearly he's got a soft spot for you."
You smirked. "So do you." Your eyes landed on a small pen knife sitting on the table. You grabbed it, holding it up for him to see.
His eyes sparkled with several different emotions and you knew he was reeling from everything you'd just learned. Hell, you were busy compartmentalizing all of your emotions so you didn't fall apart.
"Yeah," he whispered. "I do."
You offered him a sweet smile before leaning down to his level and picking the lock on his cuffs with the pen knife. As soon as he was free, you helped him to his feet.
"Okay, I'm gonna go have a look around," he said. "You stay here."
"Dean--" you started to protest.
"Hey, it's not like I don't want you with me, but you heard what future me said...there are people here who will recognize you--people who know you're dead."
You sighed, knowing he was right. "Fine. Why don't you go first, make sure it's clear, then I'll follow you."
Dean glared at you for a long moment, before his expression softened. He knew this wasn't a battle he was going to win. "Alright. Just stay out of sight, okay? I don't need one of these trigger-happy yahoos shooting you because they think you're a monster or something."
You nodded your agreement and Dean slowly opened the door to the cabin. You stay inside until he beckoned you to join him. You stayed close to the edge of the cabin as you waited for him to gesture for you to follow.
Just as Dean rounded the corner, Chuck Shirley stepped directly into his path, stopping him in his tracks. You stayed back, back pressed against the side of the cabin.
"Uh, hey there Chuck," Dean said.
Chuck started to ask him about what they should do about a shortage of perishable items and hygiene products before realizing Dean was supposed to be out on a mission.
"Yeah, I-uh-I was gonna head out now," Dean lied.
Suddenly, a woman crossed into your field of vision and swung a punch and a kick at Dean. He jumped back and grabbed Chuck, pulling him in-between himself and the angry woman.
Your instincts screamed for you to help him, but you knew you needed to stay hidden. You listened as the woman, Risa, yelled at Dean for spending the night in another woman's cabin the night before.
"You said we had a connection," she snapped.
You almost laughed at that--it was exactly the kind of thing Dean would say to a woman to appease her.
You watched as Risa angrily stomped away and Dean exhaled in relief. He quickly asked Chuck if Cas is around and he gestured to a cabin close by. "I don't think he's going anywhere," Chuck said lightly as he walked off.
As soon as he was out of sight, Dean's gaze landed on you and he waved at you to follow him. You followed closely behind as he entered the cabin, staying just out of sight of anyone inside.
You could hear Cas's voice, but it sounded different than you remembered it being--softer and maybe even lazier than before.
He must have spotted Dean because you heard him acknowledge him as their "fearless leader". You heard Cas tell the women in the room to wash up and prepare for the orgy.
A group of girls walked by you and Dean as you both step into the room.
"Orgy?" Dean asked incredulously.
Castiel simply shrugged as he regarded both of you. "(Y/N)," he murmured quietly. "This is a surprise."
You sighed. "I'd imagine so. I hear I'm dead."
"Indeed you are." Castiel's gaze landed on Dean. "And you're not the Dean of this time. When are the two of you from?"
"2009," you answered.
"Zachariah sent us here," Dean added.
"Ahh," Cas mumbled. "I shouldn't be surprised."
"Okay, so nice to see you and all that, but can you zap us back please?" Dean asked.
Cas giggled slightly and Dean's gaze narrowed in annoyance.
"Dude, are you stoned?"
"Generally, yeah," Cas replied.
Dean looked over at you, but you were just as surprised as he was. You shrugged and Dean let out a quiet groan.
"I don't have powers anymore," Cas said simply. "When the end came, the angels just left...bored with their playthings, I guess. When they left, so did my powers."
"Oh great," Dean muttered.
"Dean," you said in a warning tone. "Don't."
Cas smiled at you and crossed the room to give you a hug. You were a little surprised, but you returned the gesture.
"It's good to see you, (Y/N). You were always the only person who could keep Dean in line."
You couldn't help the chuckle that escaped you at his words. "We've had the pleasure of meeting the Dean of this time. I imagine he's not exactly one to defer to anyone."
For a moment Castiel's expression grew wistful, as if remembering a better time. "He used to, but he changed rather significantly when you died. It's been three years and he still hasn't gotten over your death. He's not the same Dean you knew."
You glanced at your Dean and exhaled softly. "Knowing him, he's just hid that part of himself so far down he's forgotten it even exists."
Dean's gaze met yours and you knew you were right. You could see it is eyes--he knew exactly what losing you would do to him. He knew the kind of man he would become.
Cas glanced back and forth between the two of you and shook his head. "You always could read each other's minds. It's nice to see that again. But I am curious, how did our Dean handle meeting the two of you?"
"Not well," you admitted.
"Pretty sure he was happier to see you than he was to see me," Dean muttered.
You chuckled mildly. "Well I'm the dead one, so it seems fitting."
Dean winced and you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He tried to smile at you, but the pain in his gaze ensured the expression didn't meet his eyes.
Before any of you could utter another word, the sound of trucks pulling up sounded from outside the cabin. You let Dean walk out first, followed by Cas. You opted to remain in the shadows just inside the doorway. You could see what was happening outside without being noticed.
You saw Future Dean getting out of one of the trucks and tossing a beer to another man. They cracked them open and the other man turned his back on Dean.
You watched in horror as Future Dean raised his pistol, pointing it at the man's back. Your Dean ran out, yelling for him to stop, but it was too late. Future Dean pulled the trigger and the man fell to the ground.
Future Dean whirled around, coming face to face with your Dean, eyes full of anger. As Dean began to argue with Future Dean, you ran out in an attempt to calm both men. Castiel grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks.
The gasps and shocked faces of the people around you reminded of you of the position you'd just put yourself in. Most people were staring at your Dean in confusion, but several gazes had landed on you. You recognized a few of the faces and you knew in your heart these people had known you--the other you.
Future Dean gestured to your Dean and said, "Me and him--it's messed up, okay? But if you need to know something, then I'll tell you when you need to know it."
As Future Dean glanced around, he noticed some people were not looking at him--or at his doppelgänger. He followed one person's gaze and his body froze when his eyes landed on you. Even though he'd known you were here, it was still painfully jarring to see you.
What was worse, was he wasn't sure how to explain your presence--too many people had known you. A few of them had been there when you'd died.
You locked eyes with Future Dean and your heart ached for him. You could see the turmoil in his eyes and the difficulty he was having formulating any kind of words to address your presence. He might not be your Dean, but you still loved him--after all, he was the man your Dean would one day become.
You stepped forward, gently pulling yourself from Castiel's grasp. "Dean," you whispered softly, sad eyes meeting his.
"Some of you might remember my wife, (Y/N)," Future Dean said calmly. "I'm not prepared to explain her presence to all of you, but just know that she's not here to cause any harm."
His statement seemed to appease most of the small gathering, but you saw some darker expressions cross the faces of a few people in the crowd.
Future Dean stepped forward and grabbed your Dean by the jacket, practically dragging him towards his cabin. His gaze landed on you and he gestured for you to follow.
"Didn't I tell both of you to stay put?" he growled as he closed the door behind him.
Your Dean began to argue, but he was silenced by Future Dean's anger.
"He was infected, okay? I've been doing this a long time and you learn to see the signs. I did what I had to do."
"We know that," you said softly.
Both men looked at you in surprise, but your gaze was firmly on Future Dean's face. You wanted him to know you understood--you weren't even sure why.
"You didn't need to kill him in front of everyone," your Dean commented.
Future Dean's gaze cut to him like a blade. "Yeah because seeing my freaking clone and my dead wife was so much better."
Your Dean opened his mouth to continue the argument, but Future Dean cut him off.
"The last thing these people need is to see me arguing with you, okay? They're twitchy survivors who can't handle this. This is my time, not yours, so stay in your lane."
Dean backed off, realizing Future Dean was right. He was nothing more than an observer in this time and he needed to act like it.
Future Dean pulled out three glasses and poured a drink for each of you. Your eyes scaned his face, keen senses picking up on the emotions clearly stirring beneath the calm surface. You wanted to talk to him, get him to open up, but you knew this wasn't the time.
"So what was the mission for?" you asked gently.
Future Dean gave you an appreciative look. "Five years of searching--five long years and I finally found it." He pulled something out of his jacket and laid it on the table. "The Colt."
"How?" your Dean asked in surprise.
"Demons have been moving it around for years, but we finally got good intel on its location."
You felt uneasy as you regarded him. You couldn't read him as well as you could your Dean, but you knew he was thinking about something--something you weren't going to like. "What's your plan?" you asked warily.
"Tomorrow night," he said, dark gaze fixed on your face, "I'm gonna kill the devil."
Shock lit up both your's and your Dean's faces. "We have no idea if the Colt's gonna work!" you protested, fear lacing your voice.
"It's our only shot and I'm gonna take it," he countered.
You glanced at your Dean and you could tell he didn't like the sound of this plan any more than you did. Sure, you both wanted to find the Colt in your time and kill the devil so none of this would happen, but there was no way to know if it would work. No one had ever tried it on an archangel before.
"Can I speak to my wife alone for a moment?" Future Dean asked, further shocking you both.
"I, uhh--" you stuttered.
Your Dean looked at you sympathetically, a sad expression settling onto his face. You knew what the look meant, so you weren't surprised to hear him agree. He stepped outside, leaving you and Future Dean alone.
"You know it's hard for me," he began, "seeing you after all this time."
"It's not easy on me either," you admitted, "seeing the man you become...and knowing I'm not going to be with you much longer."
He looked down in shame. "I know I'm not the man you love." He gestured to where your Dean stood outside. "I'm not him. But I have never stopped loving you--never stoped missing you."
You closed your eyes for a moment. "I know. I can feel it."
"I knew you would," he said softly. "I'm sure knowing what the future has in store for both of us isn't something you'd expected to see."
You shook your head. "I certainly didn't expect to hear you call me 'your wife'."
A small smirk played across his lips. "You get your priorities straight when the world is about to end. Marrying you was the best thing I ever did."
You smiled slowly, but your heart ached too much to continue this train of discussion. "So why did you want to speak alone?"
He inhaled deeply. "I wanted to talk to you without him around to persuade you otherwise."
"Persuade me to do what, exactly?"
His gaze was intense as he stepped towards you. If you didn't know him, it would have frightened you. "When you go back to 2009, I want you to pack up your things and leave. Leave me as far behind as you can--run and never look back."
A mixture of shock and sorrow darkened your features. "I-I can't do that."
He reached out and grabbed your hands, squeezing them tightly. "You have to, (Y/N)," he pleaded. "It's the only way I can keep you safe--alive."
You shook your head. "I can't leave you."
He caressed your cheek gently, his calloused hands molding perfectly to your face. "I need you to do this for me, sweetheart. I know it won't be easy and I-he won't understand, but it's for the best. He'll realize it in the end."
"Marrying me was the best thing you've ever done, but you want to deny yourself that joy? Deny me?"
"I would rather suffer a thousand deaths than watch you die again. It almost killed me, (Y/N). Hell, in a way it kinda did. I'm not that man anymore, and I don't want that for him."
You touched his face gently, fingers grazing against the rough stubble on his cheek. "You're wrong, you know. I can see him in you. You might be older, damaged in ways I can't understand, but the man I love lives in you. You and I both know Dean is going to tell me the same thing when we get back to 2009. It will break his heart, but he will beg me to leave if there's even a remote chance it will save my life."
His expression told you exactly how right you were.
"Looks like you haven't changed all that much--at least not in the ways that matter."
A flicker of pain crossed his face, but he was quick to hide it. He loved you so much it hurt and he knew there was no hope for him. He had to believe that the Dean from 2009 would heal from losing you, especially if it meant you got to live.
"Sometimes, I'll lie awake at night and stare at your picture--talk to it, even. I dream of you often and it breaks my heart every time I wake up to find you're not there. I miss you with every part of my tattered soul."
"Dean..." you whispered, leaning into him.
"I know you don't love me, but I need you to know how deeply I love you, even now. You hold my heart in the palm of your hand, (Y/N). You always have."
You stood on your tip-toes and brushed your lips across his cheek. "You are him," you whispered lowly. "I love him, so I love you. Five years of hell on earth doesn't change that."
Tears filled his eyes and he pulled you tightly against him. He never wanted to let you go, no matter what the cost. He felt conflicted about loving you so much, but he knew without a doubt in his mind that the 2009 version of himself would understand.
He pressed a kiss to the top of your head before settling his chin down against it. He loved the way you fit in his arms, as if you were made for them. He wanted you so badly it hurt--an ache so deep in his bones he knew he would never be rid of it.
It took all of his strength--all his willpower--to pull away, releasing you and taking a step back.
You looked up at him with compassionate (y/e/c) eyes, wanting nothing more than to comfort him, heal his pain. You hadn't been lying when you said you loved him. You could feel the man you loved beneath the hardened exterior, and it broke your heart to see him in so much pain.
Your eyes scanned his face again, but he couldn't meet your gaze. You knew his body ached for your touch--you knew because your Dean had always been that way. It had been three years since Future Dean had felt your body against his, so you knew exactly how much it was killing him.
You sighed, glancing out the little window at the front of the cabin. Your Dean stood out there, shoulders set in that stern way you were used to seeing. Your heart ached for him--you knew it was hard for him to be in this situation. You loved him more than you'd ever thought possible and you knew he felt the same. Seeing the way his future self looked at you likely made him contemplate things he shouldn't have had to bear.
"Stay here," you whispered to Future Dean. You stepped past him, heading for the door.
Future Dean watched as you exited, eyes fixated on the way you moved--desperately trying to commit every inch of you to memory.
"Hey," your Dean said softly as you stepped outside. "You okay?"
"Not really," you admitted. "You?"
He gave you a sad smile and shook his head. "This is a lot harder than I thought it would be."
"I know."
"No, sweetheart, I don't think you do," he said gently, but firmly. "You have an idea, sure, but you don't know--not the way I do. I can see it on his face--on my face. The way he misses you, the love he so clearly feels for you...the emptiness inside of him only you can fill. I know all of those feelings, (Y/N). I can't even fathom the pain of losing you. It hurts to even think about."
You touched his arm gently and he leaned into the touch as if on instinct.
"I know what he's feeling, even if I can't fully experience it myself. I know the devastation I would feel if I lost you--I don't think I'd ever fully recover. Add to that all the loss he's experienced in the last five years and I can understand why he's the way he is. I see myself in him...and I can see myself becoming him."
Dean turned his full attention to you and his next words shocked you to your very core.
"He needs you, (Y/N). I have a bad feeling about tomorrow night and I think you might be the only thing that stops him from doing something reckless. It pains me to say this--to give you up, even for a moment, but he needs you. I know it might feel weird, wrong even, but he's me...and I get him, more than I'd care to admit."
Your lips parted in surprise. "I-I don't know if I can do that, Dean."
He touched your face gently and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "He's me, (Y/N)...and he needs you. You're his wife, after all. So go."
Your eyes scanned his face for any sign of discomfort, but you only saw sadness. Part of you hated this idea, but the other part knew he was right. You'd felt it when you'd been with Future Dean--felt his need for you so strongly it nearly overwhelmed you.
"I love you," you whispered.
"I know, sweetheart. I love you too."
He nodded towards the cabin and gave you a soft smile. You stepped away, knowing you were about to do something that felt both incredibly wrong and incredibly right at the same time.
"Where will you go?"
"I'll hang out with Cas. Don't worry about me, baby."
You nodded and watched him walk away towards Castiel's cabin. You took a deep breath and steeled yourself before turning to the door in front of you.
Future Dean seemed almost surprised to see you as you stepped back into the cabin.
"Hi," you murmured.
"Hey."
"I can't walk away," you whispered. "Not when you're in so much pain."
He looked at you in confusion, unsure of what you were trying to tell him.
You were typically so good with words, but whatever skill you normally had failed you as you looked into his haunted green eyes. There was no way for you to fully understand the emotions he was feeling, no words to explain how desperately you wanted to heal even the smallest fraction of his soul.
You crossed the short distance between you, practically crashing into him as you grabbed the edges of his jacket and pulled him down to you. The kiss surprised him, but he was in no position to pull away--wrong or not, he craved you like a drowning man in need of air.
His arms wrapped around you and pulled you flush against him, holding on for dear life as he deepened the kiss. It felt as if you were both engulfed in flames, every sensation burning you both--scarring you in a way neither of you would ever heal from.
His hands traveled down your back, slipping under your ass to pull you up into his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist, lips never leaving his.
He carried you to a small room at the back of the cabin and laid you down as gently as he could onto the mattress. There was no bed--simply a mattress on the floor, but there were blankets and a couple pillows, just enough to be comfortable.
Your hands slid inside his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders forcefully. His lips didn't leave yours as he tugged it off and tossed it out of the way. You pulled on his henley, silently begging him to take it off too, a request he immediately complied with.
He had to pull away from you just long enough to tug the shirt over his head, but the action was enough to ground him. As he gazed down at you, his heart clenched in his chest. You were just as beautiful as he remembered, eyes full of love and adoration--an expression he'd missed desperately.
"I love you so much, (Y/N/N)," he said quietly.
Your expression softened slightly, realizing the pain he was feeling--the mixed emotions racing through his veins. "I love you too, Dean. Don't question that for a second."
He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into the palm of your hand as you reached up to cup his cheek.
"Get out of your head, baby," you murmured. "Focus on me--on this moment--nothing else."
His eyes slowly opened, gaze landing on your face. You began to blush beneath him, his hungry expression heating you from the inside out.
"You're wearing far too much clothing for my taste," he teased, voice low and throaty.
You smirked. "I know you like to rip my clothes off, but these are my only ones--so be gentle."
He groaned, just like you knew he would. Dean was notorious for literally ripping your clothes--he'd ruined more shirts and pants than you cared to admit...not to mention most of your undergarments.
"How 'bout we make a deal?" he murmured.
You hummed in response, so he continued.
"I'll promise not to rip your pants or your underwear, if you're willing to forfeit your shirt."
You looked up at him in surprise. "I don't have another shirt, Dean."
He grinned wolfishly. "But I do."
Realization crossed your features, a small smile curling the corners of your mouth. Before you could respond, he gripped your shirt in his strong hands and tore it right in half, revealing your heaving chest.
"Dean!" you admonished in surprise.
"Sorry, baby--I couldn't wait any longer. You know how impatient I get."
As if to emphasize his impatience, he lowered his mouth to your chest, tugging the cups of your bra down to expose your soft breasts. He groaned loudly before burying his face between them, nipping and sucking at the supple flesh.
You moaned softly, fingers of one hand tangling in the short locks at the base of his skull. Your other hand slipped down his broad back feeling the heated skin beneath the tips of your fingers.
You felt unfamiliar scars, which nearly brought tears to your eyes. You hated the idea of him being hurt--especially if you weren't there to care for him as he healed.
Dean sensed your shift in demeanor and he lifted his head to observe your face. "You okay, baby?"
His soft words brought you back to the present and you offered him a small smile. "New scars," you whispered.
You didn't need to elaborate, he knew exactly what you meant. He could read you just as well as you could read him. "You were there for most of them," he murmured gently.
You relaxed slightly and he sighed before placing a soft kiss to your forehead.
"You know me too well," you remarked.
"You're the love of my life, sweetheart. There's not a damn thing I don't know about you."
Tears pricked at the back of your eyes and you desperately pushed the welling emotions down, choosing instead to focus on the here and now. "I need you, Dean," you whispered. "Desperately."
He had never been one to deny you, and he certainly wasn't going to start now. Besides, his own need was slowly becoming unbearable.
"I'm right here, baby. I'll make you feel so good--I promise."
He wasted no time in removing the rest of your clothing and his own. He wanted to take his time, really feel you, but he knew time was the one thing neither of you had.
"I need to taste you," he whispered into your ear before beginning his descent to your aching pussy.
Some things may have changed in the last five years, but Dean's skills in the bedroom hadn't. The things he could do with his mouth should have been categorized as a crime--his ability to have you screaming and shaking within minutes was still a shock after all this time.
He loved the way you tasted, the way your body reacted to his touch, the pretty sounds you made as he feasted on you. There wasn't a damn thing he didn't love about you, but he had to admit this was in the top five things he missed most about you. The way your body melded with his--two souls intertwining in the most fundamental way, the overwhelming pleasure he could only find in your arms...he'd be a liar if he said he hadn't dreamed of it often in the last three years.
Your nails dug into his biceps as you desperately clung to any part of him you could reach. Your orgasm swept over you seconds later, pulling moans and whimpers from your throat as he continued his assault.
Dean ignored the tugs on his hair, instead holding your hips even more firmly against the mattress as he continued to eat your pussy hungrily. It took mere moments for your whimpers to once again turn to heavy moans of need--your voice hoarse from begging him to keep going.
When your second orgasm crashed into you, your legs shook almost violently against his head, thighs threatening to crush him. He couldn't have been bothered to care--had you actually crushed him in that moment, he would have died a happy man.
He finally relented when you began begging him to give you a moment--just one moment to breathe. He lifted himself up to hover over you, licking his lips happily as he gazed down at you.
"You seem pleased with yourself," you said breathlessly.
"Oh I am." The pride he was feeling practically oozed from his pores. Nothing stroked his ego like making you fall apart over and over again.
You ran your hands up and down his arms in a gentle, soothing manner. He'd always loved the way you touched him--the sweet, loving action something he hadn't been used to before you.
"I love you," he whispered.
You met his gaze and smiled. "All my heart and all my soul, Dean Winchester. Always."
The reply stunned him into a motionless silence. It had been years since he'd heard those words from your lips--he never thought he would be lucky enough to hear them again. In that moment, he felt like his heart had been ripped from his chest, torn apart, and put back together...it hurt like hell, but he wouldn't have traded the moment for anything.
You noticed the change in him and you worried you'd said something wrong. "I'm sorry--"
"Don't apologize," he said immediately. "I just...I haven't heard those words in years and--well, it hit me harder than I thought it would. That was, umm--" he sighed heavily. "It was the last thing you said to me before you died."
His voice was a gravelly whisper, filled with unimaginable pain, and it nearly broke your heart in two. "Dean..." you murmured.
"You have no idea how badly I've wanted to hear those words again--to hear your sweet voice remind me how much you love me. I missed you, sweetheart."
You couldn't have known how he'd react to your statement--hell, you hadn't even thought about it...the words just poured from your mouth like they had countless times before. It didn't matter what year he was from--you loved Dean Winchester with a kind of endless passion that would outlive Death himself.
You knew this experience would change you in ways you couldn't yet comprehend, but you wouldn't change it for anything. At the end of the day, this was Dean, and there was nothing you wouldn't do for him--nothing.
"Make love to me, Dean," you whispered lovingly, eyes bright with desire.
"I could never deny you, (Y/N/N)," he said sweetly. "I won't start now."
He leaned down to kiss you deeply, pulling you back into the warm embrace you craved. As the kiss progressed, your bodies became more entangled, until it was impossible to tell where one of you ended and the other began. It was a feeling you'd only ever felt with Dean, and one you couldn't have explained even if you tried.
After what seemed like an eternity, Dean finally broke the kiss, breathing deeply. "I can't hold back any longer. I need you more than I need to breathe, (Y/N)."
"I'm yours, Dean."
The simple act of giving yourself over to him completely had him wanting to do nothing but worship you until the sun came up again.
He didn't hesitate, didn't overthink--your body was calling to him and he answered it gladly. In one single thrust, he buried himself fully inside you, eliciting sharp groans from you both.
"Fuck, sweetheart--I forgot how incredible you feel," he whispered against your heated skin.
You were breathless and aching, the desire for him to ruin you so overwhelming you couldn't think of anything else. "Move," you pleaded desperately, nails digging into his shoulder blades.
His body mindlessly responded to your pleas, hips setting an almost brutal pace. You both needed this--needed the release that could only come from each other.
You clung to him and he to you, the room filling with the salacious sounds of wet skin against skin and moans of endless pleasure.
"I love the sounds you make when I'm inside you, baby," he groaned. "I fucking missed them so much."
"You feel so good, Dean," you gasped.
"So do you, sweetheart."
And fuck did you feel incredible. He loved you so much and you felt it in every single movement his body made. You hoped he could feel just how much you loved him in return.
"You're the only woman who could ever make me feel like this," he whispered.
You knew exactly what he meant--what he was trying to say. Sex had always been different with you. It had always felt more incredible than with anyone else he'd ever been with. The profound bound the two of you shared made everything better--even sex.
"I never want you to stop," you murmured. "It feels so good."
"Shit," he groaned, your words having more of an affect on him then he'd expected. "Keep talking like that and I'm gonna cum."
"That's what I want, Dean. Want you to fill me up."
He practically growled as he bit down on your collar bone, hips slowing as he tried to regain his composure. "Need you to cum first," he begged.
You rolled your hips against his in response and the sensations he was experiencing snapped whatever remained of his self-control. He grabbed your legs and tugged them flush against his chest and began to pound into you recklessly.
His cock slammed into your g-spot with each thrust, pulling sharp cries of pleasure from your open mouth. Your hands grasped at the blankets beneath you, struggling desperately to find purchase anywhere.
He knew he could get you over the edge this way--he knew your body almost as well as he knew his own. Within a few short minutes, your cries of pleasure turned to screams of his name as one of the most intense orgasms of your life hit you like a tsunami.
Before you could come down from your high, Dean found his own, releasing his seed into your pussy. The contractions of your walls around him milked every last drop of cum from him before he collapsed on top of you, spent and satisfied.
Your arms immediately wrapped around him, holding him tightly against you. You could feel his heart beating rapidly against your chest and you were certain he could feel yours. There was nothing quite like the feeling of being in the arms of the person you love most.
"You're amazing, (Y/N)," he whispered into your neck.
"As are you," you mumbled, pressing your lips into his hair.
He held you almost as tightly as you were holding him and you knew he didn't want to ever let go. Your heart ached for the man in your arms just as much as it ached for the man currently sitting in Castiel's cabin.
Love was the most complicated emotion there was, but this far surpassed any normal situation. Dean Winchester was the love of your life in any time period--past, present, or future. You hated seeing the man you loved in pain and seeing two of him in pain complicated matters beyond belief.
"Where's your head at?" he asked softly.
You chuckled lightly--he really did know you better than anyone else.
"Just thinking about this messed up situation we've found ourselves in."
He sighed quietly. "Don't think on it too much, sweetheart. Zachariah will send you back tomorrow and everything will go back to normal."
"Except for the part where both present and future versions of you want me to leave..."
He lifted his head slowly. "It's too late for me...I'm too far gone, too deeply and madly in love with you to ever push you away. But the Dean from 2009? Yeah he loves you more than he's ever loved another person in his life, but he'll learn to live without you. He has to. Otherwise he'll wake up one day in 2011 without you and he'll feel the way that I do. He'll be forced to live with a hole in his chest that no human being could ever fill, and it'll change him, (Y/N). It'll break him."
Tears streamed down your face as you listened to his words. You knew they were true--knew it was how he was feeling, how he'd felt for years. You didn't want your Dean to feel that pain, but you knew deep in your heart you couldn't walk away. There was no timeline where you could turn your back on the one person that made life worth living...but this Dean didn't need to know that.
"No more talking," you said softly. "Let's just sleep a while."
He nodded and rolled over onto his back, taking you with him. You giggled softly as you nuzzled into his chest, finding comfort in his strong arms.
**********
You awoke to the sound of knocking on the door of the cabin. You felt Dean stir beside you, a grumble of annoyance slipping past his lips. You smiled a little at his moodiness--it was nice to see some things never changed.
You pulled yourself up and got dressed quickly, grabbing a clean henley from the small pile of clothes in the corner. It was much too big on you, but it was all you had thanks to Dean's impatience.
You opened the door of the cabin and found a somewhat sheepish looking Castiel standing on the other side.
"Is, uh, is Dean awake?"
"He mumbled something rather rude when I tried to wake him up, so I let him sleep."
Cas chuckled. "Sounds about right."
"I can wake him if you need him."
Cas looked like he wanted to say no, but knew he couldn't. "Yeah, if you don't mind. We need to start planning for tomorrow if we want this to work. People are starting to talk."
You sighed. "I'll get him up."
You stepped back, leaving the door open as an invitation for Cas to come inside. He chose not to, opting instead to wait on the porch while you went to wake Dean.
"Dean? Sweetheart?" you said gently. "You need to get up."
"Five more minutes," he grumbled.
You laughed and shook him a few times. "Come on, handsome. We've got work to do."
"Fine," he groaned. "Fine."
He sat up slowly, eyes dark with sleep. He looked up at you and you offered him a soft smile, which he instantly returned.
"You're so beautiful."
You blushed. "Get dressed before Cas comes in and sees your naked ass."
"He's probably seen it a couple times by now," he teased as he got up. "Now, where'd you put my pants?"
You laughed. "I think you threw them somewhere over there." You pointed to the other side of the room where a small pile of clothes laid.
He smirked slightly and crossed the room, grabbing his clothes and putting them on quickly.
"What's up, Cas?" he asked gruffly when he came into the main room.
"The team wants to know what's going down tomorrow and uh, past you says we need to start making a plan."
He shot you a look, but you simply shrugged. You weren't at all surprised your Dean wanted to make a plan. He didn't like this whole idea in the first place, so it made sense he would want some kind of plan in place.
"Fine. Gather the team and get them in here."
Cas went off to do as asked. The first person to arrive was your Dean. One look at his handsome face had you rushing to him and wrapping your arms around him. He buried his face in your hair and sighed softly.
"I know this is a little awkward," you said quietly to both Deans as you stepped back.
"Not as much as you would think," your Dean responded.
Future Dean nodded, but remained quiet for a few moments. He fixed your Dean with an intense gaze even you couldn't quite read. "Thank you," he said so softly you almost missed it.
Your Dean nodded his understanding. You realized it really was different for the two of them than it was for you. They were the same man five years apart...they understood each other's thoughts and emotions in a way you never could.
Before you could say anything else, Cas returned with Risa and a couple other people in tow. Risa gave both Deans an odd look before turning her dark gaze to you. You couldn't read her expression, but you felt the jealousy coming off her in waves.
"Well this is about to be uncomfortable," you murmured to your Dean, who just chuckled.
Everyone sat down around the table except for both Deans and yourself. You stood beside your Dean, and you both stood slightly back to give yourselves room to observe everyone.
Risa glared at Future Dean so intensely it made everyone uncomfortable. He gave her a confused look and simply asked, "Why are you pissed at me?"
"Something about you having a connection, but then spending the night in another chick's cabin," your Dean quipped.
You snickered softly, as did Cas. Future Dean shot a glare your way, but you simply shrugged.
"Plus your dead wife is magically not dead, so yeah, I feel some kinda way," Risa grumbled.
"The (Y/N) some of you knew is dead. This one is from 2009--same as him," Future Dean said, gesturing to your Dean. "Now that we've got that out of the way, can we please focus?"
No one dared argue with him.
Future Dean launched into his spiel about killing the devil, revealing the Colt to the other people in the room.
"How do you know it's gonna work?" Risa asked skeptically.
"It's all we've got," Future Dean answered. "We got Lucifer's location from that demon we captured last week. We know where he's gonna be for the first time in years."
"The demon might have lied for all you know," Risa snapped.
"Trust me, he was honest."
Castiel leaned towards Risa. "Dean is very well-versed in the art of getting to the truth."
You inhaled sharply, immediately understanding Castiel's meaning. Your Dean stiffened beside you and you felt the quiet rage simmering beneath the surface.
"Seriously? You went back to torture?" your Dean said angrily.
Future Dean looked at you, a resigned look of sadness on his face. You sighed and placed your hand on your Dean's arm and murmured, "Let it go, Dean."
He caught Future Dean's expression and fell silent again. There was no use arguing about his tactics now.
"Now," Future Dean said as he gestured to the map on the table. "We'll be heading in here."
"That's a hot zone," Cas said. "It's filled with Croats and demons--kinda reckless to just go barging in there don't you think?"
"Are you coming or not?" Future Dean asked, ignoring Cas's objections.
"Of course," Cas responded. "I've gotta ask though, why are they coming?" He nodded his head towards you and your Dean.
"I don't answer to you. Just know that they are coming."
Castiel put his hands up in surrender.
"Why don't you all go get supplies ready and recruit a couple more people," you suggested.
Future Dean nodded his agreement and the others left, leaving you and the Deans alone.
"Now why don't you try that again, but give an honest answer this time," you said sternly, eyes boring into Future Dean's face.
He sighed wearily. "I want you both to see what happened to Sam. Especially you." He pointed to the younger version of himself.
"What do you mean?" your Dean asked. "You said he died in Detroit."
"No, I didn't. I said he didn't make it out."
You exhaled sharply, heart nearly breaking as you realized what he was saying.
Future Dean fixed his gaze on you and you knew your assumption was correct. You instinctively reached out to your Dean in an attempt to ground him--you knew exactly how this information would affect him.
"What's going on?" your Dean asked, looking between you and his doppelgänger.
"He said yes," you whispered.
Future Dean nodded, but your Dean simply looked confused.
"The big yes," Future Dean said tiredly. "Lucifer wore him to the prom."
You gave your Dean a sad look. A flash of pain crossed his handsome features and your heart broke for him. You'd told him back in your time that he needed to forgive Sam--needed to mend their relationship. You didn't realize just how important that mending would be.
"He wouldn't do that," your Dean whispered.
You placed a comforting hand on his arm, but didn't bother to contradict him.
"Well he did," Future Dean snapped. "And when you go back, you need to say 'yes' to Michael. Immediately."
"Absolutely not!" you gasped.
Now it was Dean's turn to comfort you, his hand coming to rest on yours. "She's right. A showdown between Michael and Lucifer would torch half the planet."
"Half a planet is better than no planet," Future Dean insisted.
"If it's such a good idea, why didn't you say yes?" your Dean asked.
"Oh trust me, I tried. But by the time I was ready, the angels had given up and fucked off to wherever they are now."
"There has to be another way," your Dean whispered.
Future Dean fixed you with an expression that made everything clear to you.
"That's why you want me to leave," you began softly. "You know I would never approve of him saying yes to Michael. If I'm not around to influence him, then maybe he'll be foolish enough to say 'yes', right?"
Your Dean looked confused, but Future Dean held your gaze and you knew you were right.
"I really don't want you to die," he said gently. "But I also know exactly what you'll say...and I know the impact your words will have on my choices. Because I already made them."
"You told her to leave me?" your Dean asked slowly. "Even knowing what that'll do to me?"
"You'll both be better off."
"You don't get to make that call," you snapped.
Future Dean sighed and shook his head. "You'll both make your own decisions, but I just want you to have all the facts. Gear up. We move out in 20." With that he walked out the door, leaving you and your Dean alone.
"What if he's right?"
"About saying yes to Michael?" you asked in surprise.
Dean shook his head. "About it being better for you to leave."
You sighed quietly. "He's wrong...about all of it."
"I've seen what losing you did to me--to him...and I'm not sure that's something I can voluntarily experience."
You smiled. "I'm gonna do everything in my power to make sure you never have to."
Dean returned the smile and pulled you in closely. "I love you, (Y/N)."
"I love you too, Dean Winchester. Always."
**********
You were sitting in the backseat of the truck, listening to Cas tell your Dean about becoming human. It was weird for you to see Cas like this, hell he was driving. It was even harder to see how broken he had become and it only made you want to prevent this future even more.
You closed your eyes, desperate to fall asleep--to leave this fucked up, burned out world behind. You wanted to go home--to 2009. There was still time to change the future, to stop any of this from happening. You would give anything to stop it.
You must have fallen asleep because you were awoken by the gentle sound of your Dean's voice telling you it was time to wake up. You opened your eyes, surprised to see it was now light out.
"We're here, baby," he said softly.
You sighed deeply and nodded. You dragged yourself out of the truck and gathered your weapons along with the rest of the group. Your senses immediately told you something was off and one glance at your Dean told you he felt the same.
"Didn't you say this is a hot zone?" you asked Cas softly.
The former angel nodded.
"Then where are all the Croats?"
"Must be in another part of the city," he responded.
You and Dean exchanged a look, neither one of you believing his response.
Nevertheless, you followed the group, searching the rundown city for the building you were going to raid. When you found it, all of your hunter instincts screamed that something was wrong, but this time you weren't the first to voice it.
"Shouldn't there be a shit load of demons out here?" your Dean asked.
Future Dean shrugged. "They must all be inside."
His answer didn't satisfy you one bit, but you kept your mouth shut, choosing instead to observe him closely. The only person who knew Dean better than you was the man himself, which was proven moments later.
"Alright," Future Dean started. "You guys go in through the second story window. The three of us will sneak around back."
Risa looked more than a little concerned with the game plan. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"
She glanced over at Cas, who clearly agreed with her worry.
"Trust me, okay? They'll never see us coming," Future Dean assured them.
"Can I talk to you for a second?" your Dean said firmly, his words more a statement than a question.
Future Dean sighed, but stepped off to the side to speak with the two of you.
"You're lying to them," your Dean said lowly. "Don't deny it--I know your lying expressions, I've seen them in the mirror."
Future Dean sighed in annoyance and your Dean threatened to tell the team about his concerns, but Future Dean stopped him.
"I know it's a trap, alright? I'm not an idiot. They'll go in the front door and create a distraction while I sneak around the back."
"You're sacrificing your team?" you asked incredulously.
"They're your friends! And Cas? Come on, man--this isn't you," your Dean added.
"My inability to make the tough decisions is what got us here in the first place. Look around you--this is the end of everything," Future Dean growled. "It's my job to kill Lucifer and save what's left of this planet, so that's what I'm going to do."
"I can't let you do that," your Dean argued.
Instead of engaging in further discussion, Future Dean jabbed the butt of his gun into your Dean's head, knocking him unconscious instantly.
"Dean!" you yelled, unsure if you were calling for yours or yelling at the Future version.
"I have to do this, (Y/N)," he said softly. "I need you to understand."
Tears welled in your eyes. "I understand why you believe that, but I don't agree. It's not who you are, Dean...the man I fell in love with would never sacrifice the people he loves--not for anything."
Future Dean looked down at the ground in silence. When he lifted his head again, his face was hard--a mask of non-emotion.
"I'm doing what needs to be done," he said firmly. "Stay with him and stay out of the way."
You wanted to reason with him, but you knew there was no point in trying. Yes, he was still Dean, but you knew you would never be able to change his mind. He'd made his choices and he'd had to live with them. Now, he was just trying to make up for all the mistakes he believed he'd made.
"Go," you whispered.
He nodded and moved back to join the others. You watched everyone but Dean head to the front of the building, a feeling of sorrow weighing on your heart.
"Dean," you called softly, prompting him to turn to look at you. "Don't die."
He gave you the smallest of smiles and nodded before running towards the back of the building.
You dropped to your knees and shook your Dean firmly. "Dean, wake up!"
After a few minutes, he groaned and his eyes fluttered open. "Fuck," he mumbled.
"Hey!" You helped him into a sitting position. "You okay?"
"My head's killing me."
"He hit you pretty hard," you said gently.
The sound of gunfire urged him to his feet. "We gotta go."
You nodded and let him grab your hand as the two of you ran to the back of the building. You arrived to a terrifying scene--Future Dean was lying on the ground and a man in a white suit stood above him, his foot firmly on Dean's neck.
Future Dean made eye contact with you seconds before his neck snapped and the life left his face.
"No!" you screamed.
Your Dean grabbed you, pulling you back to keep you from rushing forward. Watching Dean die felt like having your own heart ripped out of your chest--it was a feeling you hoped you'd never have to relive.
The man turned around in surprise and your breath caught in your chest. Objectively, you'd known it was Lucifer--you'd known he'd be in Sam's body--but there was nothing quite like seeing it in person.
Dean instinctively pushed you behind him, putting his body protectively in front of yours.
"Dean, (Y/N)," Lucifer greeted calmly. "It's a surprise to see you here--especially since I killed you three years ago and well..." he looked down at Future Dean's body with a nonchalant shrug. "It must be a shock to see your brother like this."
"Why don't you just kill me now and get it over with?" Dean asked angrily.
"Well that would be redundant. I'll kill your lovely wife three years before I kill you," he said simply. "We will always end up here, Dean. This is the way our story ends."
"Deep-frying the planet and murdering billions of people? What a shitty story," Dean snapped.
Lucifer started to rant about loving God too much and being punished for it...but you'd stopped listening. You could feel the pain rolling off your sweet Dean in waves. You knew what he was thinking--he'd failed his brother and in doing so, destroyed the world.
"I'm not falling for that sympathy-for-the-devil crap!" Dean yelled, pulling you back to the present. "The only difference between you and the monsters I've hunted my whole life is the size of your ego."
If the situation had been different, you probably would have laughed. Dean's fearlessness was something you both loved and admired about him. What's more, you agreed with his sentiment.
Lucifer simply smiled. "I like you, Dean. I can see what the other angels see in you." His gaze landed on you and you felt the rage boiling under your skin. "No hard feelings, (Y/N). Your death was a means to an end--it broke what little humanity your precious Dean had left in him. It's what led us to this moment."
Lucifer turned to walk away, but Dean called after him. "You better kill me now or I won't stop until I find a way to kill you."
Lucifer's smile was cruel. "I know you'll try Dean, but I also know you'll never say 'yes' to Michael, and you'll never kill Sam. No matter what choices you make or details you change, your wife will die in 2011 and you and I will always end up right here."
"You're wrong," Dean whispered, eyes filling with pained tears.
You touched his arm gently, reminding him he wasn't alone. He leaned into your touch, but remained steadfastly in front of you--guarding you with every ounce of strength he had.
"I'll see you in two years, (Y/N)," Lucifer said with a condescending smile. "And I'll see you in five, Dean."
Before either of you could say a word, Lucifer vanished, leaving the two of you alone.
"Dean..." you whispered softly.
He turned to you, his expression full of agony. You reached for him just as Zachariah appeared and placed a hand against each of your foreheads, zapping you back to the hotel room in Kansas City, circa 2009.
Both of you turned to face the offending angel, anger your primary emotion in the moment.
"Now you know what's going to happen," Zachariah said, cutting off any rant either of you could start. "Your only option is to say 'yes' to Michael, otherwise billions of people are going to die."
"How do we know that wasn't just another one of your tricks?" you snapped.
"The time for tricks is over," Zachariah stated. "Saying 'yes' to Michael is the only way you can save the world--save (Y/N)--save your brother.
Dean turned to you, his face full of anguish. It made your heart clench in your chest and you worried for a moment he'd changed his mind.
"Nah," Dean said to Zachariah, jaw set in a firm line.
You smirked a little, watching Zachariah's facial expression turn to shock.
"Are you telling me you haven't learned your lesson?"
"Oh I learned my lesson," Dean countered. "Just not the one you wanted to teach me."
Zachariah stepped towards Dean menacingly. You instinctively stepped forward, more than willing to fight the angel to protect the man you loved. Dean placed a gentle hand on yours to let you know he wasn't scared.
"I have you exactly where I want you," Zachariah began. "I'm going to teach both of you a lesson until you get it through your thick skulls. Neither of you are going anywhere until you say 'yes'."
Dean's grip on your hand tightened and his mouth opened to give some sort of retort when you suddenly found yourself standing on the side of a highway. Dean's hand was still wrapped tightly around yours and a slightly confused Castiel stood a few feet in front of you.
"Excellent timing, Cas," Dean said in relief.
"We had an appointment," Cas stated matter-of-factly.
You chuckled softly and stepped forward to wrap the angel in a hug. He was slightly surprised by your actions, but he didn't pull away.
Dean placed a firm hand on Castiel's shoulder and offered him another smile. "Don't ever change."
You and Dean launched into the story of the last few days for you, and Castiel listened quietly.
"How did Zachariah find you?"
"Long story," Dean muttered. "But let's just stay away from Jehovah's Witnesses in the future."
You chuckled again and rolled your eyes affectionately.
Dean pulled out his phone and started to dial a number.
"What are you doing?" Cas asked.
"Something I should have done in the first place."
You smiled, knowing exactly what he was doing...and who he was calling. You were proud of him and you voiced the sentiment as soon as you were alone.
"Thanks, babe. Turns out you were right all along."
You grinned. "I'm always right."
Dean chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Alright sweetheart, calm down." His voice was light and teasing and it warmed you straight down to your soul.
"I love you, you dork."
He smiled and squeezed your hand. "I love you too."
You were both quiet for several minutes, just watching the road as Dean sped towards your next destination.
"It's still the apocalypse," Dean said suddenly.
"Mhmm," you hummed quietly.
"So you know...the world might still end."
"Hopefully not."
"Agreed, but I'm thinking maybe we should get married."
"What?" you said in shock.
Dean shrugged. "I'm just saying...you're my everything and I want everyone to know you're mine. Besides, if this world really does end, there's no one I wanna be with but you."
"You know, normally the guy gets down on one knee."
Dean chuckled. "I can do that as soon as I stop the car."
You laughed. "Typically there's a ring too."
He grinned. "Don't worry baby--I'll buy you a big diamond ring."
You smiled and grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently. "I don't really need a ring, Dean--and I don't need you to get down on one knee. If you're serious about it, then hell yeah--let's get married."
Dean looked at you hopefully. "I'm dead serious, babe."
You touched his cheek with a smile. "Then let's get married."
He looked at the straight stretch of road ahead, not a car in sight. He leaned over and kissed you quickly, the affectionate gesture expressing his emotions better than any words he could have said.
When he pulled back to face the road, you leaned across the seat and placed a soft kiss to his cheek. Your voice was low as you said the words that had become a mantra in your relationship, "All my heart and all my soul, Dean Winchester. Always."
His smile warmed your entire body--inside and out. It had been weird hearing Future Dean call you his wife...but your Dean proposing to you now, it just felt right.
You rode the rest of the way in a happier mood than you'd felt in a long time. Dean's mood was lighter too, but you both knew it wouldn't last. There was still a lot of darkness to come, but you were both determined to make sure there were happy moments. After all, love was one of the things that made life worth living.
A short time later, you sat on the trunk of the Impala, watching the man you loved apologize to his brother. You smiled warmly as you watched them, overjoyed at the steps they were both taking to make amends.
Dean turned towards you and waved you over. You hopped down and crossed the short distance, passing Dean to wrap Sam in a tight hug. The much larger man returned the gesture, the tension easing from his body.
"Glad to have you back, Sammy," you said as you stepped back.
"Thanks, (Y/N/N)."
"We're getting married," Dean said suddenly.
Sam's eyes widened in shock and you nearly laughed at Dean's sudden admission.
"End of the world and all that," Dean said sheepishly.
You chuckled and Sam expressed his congratulations.
"No matter what happens," you said softly. "We have each other--all three of us."
Both Winchesters nodded their agreement and Dean slipped his arm around you to pull you close.
"To hell with fate," Dean stated. "From now on, we make our own future."
You leaned into him with a smile, appreciating the sentiment more than you would have just a few days prior. At the end of the day, all you had was each other and the love that bonded all of you together. None of you knew exactly what the future held, but you'd be damned if you didn't fight for a future worth living for.
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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 3 months
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Regret
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Pairing: DarkTom Riddle x (female) Reader
▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
SUMMARY: Lying is a flaw that Tom doesn’t appreciate.
WARNINGS: Toxic relationship.
AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.
Dedicating this to @insectgf cause she's Tom's no.1 fan 😋
--
You nervously wring your hands as you peer around, eyes searching for movement near the dimly lit dungeon entrance.
The way to the Slytherin Common Room.
You've been waiting for just over half an hour, anxiety building up and infesting your thoughts while you hold vigil in hopes of finding Tom.
You should have never behaved like that. An act of pure stupidity and recklessness, that’s what it was.
Going to Hogsmeade in the company of a few girls of your dorm.
It was a rare occasion, something you never did before, and you had only relented after much begging and convincing from the girls. A dumb decision – one that led to a dreadful aftermath.
You should’ve known better. All of your joyful chatter and laughter at The Three Broomsticks immediately ceasing once you spotted the distinct lean figure of Tom seated in a distant table, surrounded by his friends, his brown-eyes fixed on you.
No surprise or shock in his gaze, only cold anger irradiating from his handsome features.
Something almost comprehensible given how you had explicitly told him you’d be spending all afternoon in your dorm, offering the poor excuse of a headache.  
And now here you are. Scared, shaking like a leaf, waiting for the chance to apologize and beg for forgiveness.  
You're so pathetic.
The time drags by, and you lose track, feeling as if you’ve been waiting for an eternity. But your efforts pay off when the door opens, revealing Tom.
Your heart leaps at the sight and fear clouds your mind when he offers you nothing but a quick murderous scowl that immediately turns into one of composed indifference before walking away past you, barely acknowledging your presence.
You gulp, hurrying after him as he walks with long strides through the empty corridors.
“Tom?”
“Tom…please.”
The boy ignores your numerous calls, but you keep your hasty pace even when it has you short breathed as Tom quickly charges through the stairways and halls.
“Tom, just listen to me.”
“And why should I listen to anything you spew out of that filthy mouth of yours?" his snarl scares you as he suddenly turns. "It appears that lies and deception is all I can expect from you.”
You wince, barely opening your lips before Tom walks away, choosing to stare blankly at a wall.
The confusion in your mind dissipates as a large door materializes on the door and only then you realize that you’ve reached the 7th floor.
The Room of Requirement.
You hesitate for a moment but proceed to follow Tom as he opens the door with a loud bang. Your existence remains ignored and you take a few small steps inside the room, unsure of how to bring Tom’s attention.
“Tom?”
For a moment, the possibility of Tom disregarding you again was present, and you fearfully awaited as the seconds went by without a proper reaction from Tom.
He inhaled sharply, fingers tightening before he relaxed.
But when he finally turned to face you, you almost wished he hadn’t.
The venom that darkened his face had your heart faltering, his eyes narrowing into thin slits that held nothing but anger and frustration. He almost looked like a snake.
You felt yourself turning smaller at the sight, suddenly unsure of how to speak.
“I-“
“Trust is a rather curious thing.” he says with his voice oddly serene, “An invisible yet very powerful bond, one that defines the nature of one’s relationship. That’s how I perceive it.”
“So, tell me. How many times?”
You look at him, confused.
“Tom-“
“How many times did you break my trust?” he repeats himself, brows contorting with annoyance, “How many times did you sneak behind my back to meet up with those filthy mudbloods?”
“I- Only this time.” you tearfully admit, lowering your gaze to the floor as Tom angrily hisses something in that strange snake language of his. “I swear, Tom. I-I’m so sorry.”
“Just this once? And why should I believe your unreliable words? You seem to be very determined in breaking my trust, so tell me why should I consider any of what you say to be true?”
Your lips shake when you bring yourself to look at Tom, tears burning in your eyes.
“But, …” a minuscule sob cuts you off, much to Tom’s irritation, “it is true. It was only this once, Tom, I swear on my life! I never lied to you before, I promise.”
“I’m so sorry, Tom, I really am!”
The intent with which he examines your pitiful face sets you on edge, heart plummeting against your ribs as you don’t dare to say a word.
“Prove it.”
“Prove wha-“
“Prove me that you won’t repeat this act of disloyalty. Assure me how sorry you are.” the way his eyes glint with a new cruel motivation has a shudder running down your body, aware that nothing good will come out of his proposition.
“Perform the Cruciatus Curse. On yourself.” his lips curl at your bewilderment, clearly enjoying taunting you.
This time, the tears overflow and slide down on your face pitifully and you look at Tom, silently begging him with your eyes.
But there’s no empathy in his face. Only a vile purpose.
“Go on, do it.” he takes a step forward, his tone borderline threatening despite how lightly he speaks. “You can either punish yourself or I’ll do it for you.”
“Because I assure you that in the end, you will suffer.”
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midnightwriter21 · 10 months
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i’ll be starting a tag list for my muichiro series “the past, the present, & the aftermath”! thank you guys for all the love <3
if you’d like to be added to the tag list pls lmk!!
read the first part HERE
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nedlittle · 1 year
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so i work for a small regional museum. remotely, i should add. the museum itself is about 2000km west, so i've never actually been there but i research and write articles about local history for them. and because the town was only formally settled in the 1920s and a lot of the museum's supporters are older, the majority of the history i write about is within, or just outside of living memory. this means that people will comment on our posts with memories or connections of their own. they'll tag their friends and family and say 'remember this?'
a few week ago, i wrote a week's worth of posts about immigration, largely displaced persons in the aftermath of the second world war. there was an outpouring of memories and people tagging their family members and sharing them. our notifications were blowing up with people saying "thanks for writing about my uncle" and "i knew them when i was young, but i never knew their story" and "she looks so beautiful here" and "our families used to get together for dinners, i'm still friends with his daughter."
regular people, non-historians, are inclined to think of history as a monolithic past leading up to the present; an easy timeline of textbook names and events. and we think of museums largely the same way. you have the louvre and you have the smithsonian and maybe a modern art museum or a niche museum for skeletons or canoes or one specific guy. museums are reserved for the big things, but they're also for the little things and people that will never be in textbooks.
and i'm thinking about the way people responded to those posts, seeing their own history remembered with the same reverence as the big stuff. maybe you never knew the people being written about, or maybe you did, and for a few days, they are alive again, and your neighbours and your classmates and your councilmen are remembering your family, and they are alive.
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verstappen-cult · 2 months
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Hi Gwen! Can I ask for 05 from the 02 list with Max? But Max was the one who got nightmares. Thank you, have a good day! 🌷
PROMPT DRABBLES ★ MV1
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FROM THIS LIST ━━━━ sender  comforts  receiver  in  the  aftermath  of  a  nightmare .
max leans against the door frame. he looks tired, you can clearly see the bags under his eyes.
max smiles but ends up looking like he's in pain.
you try to take him out of his misery.
"why don't you go lie down while i make dinner?" max drops his head on your shoulder as his right hand finds your waist.
"i've missed you." he whispers, nuzzling your neck with his nose.
it makes you smile because you've missed him, too. you've barely seen each other in the past couple of days━you spent almost the entire winter break together but the season is starting and you have exams coming up, things have been a little difficult, so, you really haven't spent that much time together.
you kiss his forehead, "i'll call you, go."
you know max hasn't been sleeping well. it's always hard with the jetlag, and this time of the year, when everyone's attention and worry is with the team and the new car, more than anything.
you choose to make something easy, you want for max to eat and rest as much as he can. you're actually halfway into finishing dinner when you hear max screaming. you don't think any of it at first but then he's screaming again, this time like he's in pain.
when you enter the room, heart beating so fast you think you're one second away from throwing up, max's still in bed, eyes closed.
"hey, max." you whisper caressing his arm, trying to wake him up without scaring him. "baby, wake up." this time you speak a little louder, that's when he wakes up. there are tears streaming down his face and sweat on his forehead.
sitting next to him, you keep one hand on his arm as you try to wipe the tears away with the other one. "breathe with me," you put into practice the breathing exercise your therapist taught you a couple of years ago. it's difficult at firts, with max still a little frightened from the nightmare but he tries his best to follow your instructions.
max sighs, hiding behind his hands. "it was just..."
"it's okay, you don't have to talk about it, okay?" you know he's feeling vulnerable and that his head is filled with awful thoughts. his dad's voice echoing in his head, saying how he shouldn't cry for something this stupid.
max doesn't look at you and just keeps hiding for a while longer until you have to peel his hands out of his face.
"what about you lie down and i keep you company while you sleep, uh?" his eyes are bloodshot red, remains of the nightmare still very present.
you climb on the bed and he immediately wraps his arms around your waist. you allow him to rest his head on your chest right above your heart, knowing that your heartbeat and the fingers tangled in his hair will lull him back to sleep.
he still carries that little, traumatized child inside of him everywhere he goes.
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rhys-writes-some-shit · 3 months
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The Dilemma of a Rubber Duck
Alastor x Reader (Queer-Platonic) ft. Bestie Lucifer
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(TW: Mentions of depression, mentions of suicide attempts)
You knew Alastor didn’t like Lucifer. You weren’t 100% sure why, only that the King of Hell really got on Alastor’s nerves. Ever since Lucifer had moved into the hotel in the aftermath of the battle with the angels, Alastor had spent hours ranting and raving to you about him. They were constantly trying to one-up each other. It was comical, really.
Except that you were stuck in the middle of it. 
Unlike Alastor, you and Lucifer had hit it off right away, getting along like two peas in a pod. There was a certain camaraderie that came with being clinically depressed and still having to force a smile, which both you and Lucifer were experts at. Many late nights had been spent exchanging stories and finding humor in things other people might not otherwise find humorous. 
(“I tried to kill myself twice, and then end up getting hit by a car! That’s how I end up in Hell? What did I do all that work for?” That was the first time that story had been met with laughter, and that was when you knew Lucifer was a good guy.)
You were constantly thinking about how Alastor would react to knowing you enjoyed hanging out with Lucifer, or vice versa. It worried you to no end, so you tried to keep your friendship with Lucifer under wraps, for Alastor’s sake. He needed someone to back him up, and you wanted to be that person. You wanted Alastor to know he could trust you.
One evening, you and Lucifer were talking in the parlor, drinking tea. Alastor was out for a fancy Overlord meeting, so you were able to relax a bit. 
“I’m so glad we have Niffty around,” you were saying. “Sometimes I just can’t find the energy to do my laundry, but I know that if I leave it on the floor, she’ll take care of it right away.” You thought for a moment. “It’s not like I’m forcing her to do it. Or taking advantage of her. Right?”
“Nah, I thought cleaning was her job,” Lucifer reassured. “My loophole with that is all my outfits are the same. Also magic. Magic is very helpful.”
“Man, I’m jealous!” You gave a lighthearted groan. “I wish I could have magic like that.”
“Who’s saying you can’t?” Lucifer shrugged, sipping at his tea. 
You snorted. “Have you seen me? Do I look like Overlord material to you?”
“I didn’t think Mr. Crimson Asshole was an Overlord, so looks aren’t everything.” Lucifer hesitated. “Oh, shit, I shouldn’t have said it like that. You two are like, dating, right?”
You made a ‘fifty-fifty’ gesture with your hand. “Eh… Not really? It’s like… a mutual relationship. Neither of us are the ‘dating’ type, so we just kind of… vibe. But it’s fine, I get it. You should hear the things he says about you.”
“Oh?” Lucifer leaned forward, curious. You mimed zipping your lips, grinning playfully. “Alrighty then, keep your secrets.”
The feeling of guilt you’d been getting used to returned, but you smiled past it. If there was anything Alastor taught you, it was that you could hide everyone behind a smile. And it worked, for the most part. The only person who’d ever been able to see though it was Alastor himself. Similarly, you were the only person able to see through his ever-present smile.
Setting his cup down, Lucifer waited for a lull in the conversation. “Before I forget, I have something for you.” With a wave of his hand, a little yellow rubber duck appeared in his palm. Its features and markings made it resemble you. 
Eyes wide, you carefully took the duck from his hands like it were an actual duckling.
“This one doesn’t breathe fire or anything, but…” Lucifer paused, like he was struggling for words. “I haven't had a real friend in… a really long time. S-so I wanted to thank you. For that.”
You were at a loss for words. The only other person to get you gifts since you’d died had been Alastor. That feeling of guilt hit you like a train, but it was masked with a bright, grateful smile.
“Lucifer, I… I’m honored. Thank you.” You struggled to tear your eyes away from the duck. “Can I hug you?”
Instead of replying, Lucifer pulled you out of your chair, hugging you close. You matched it, hoping your appreciation for his existence was properly conveyed.
“Ahem.”
You and Lucifer pushed each other apart like a teenage couple caught making out. Alastor was standing in the entrance to the parlor, teeth bared. His grin was sharp, borderline violent, and his eyes were narrowed. 
“Al,” you tried, but no other words followed.
Then Alastor sighed, and the murderous look in his eyes disappeared. You were still holding the duck Lucifer had given you. Looking down, you realized you were shaking, and felt a little faint. 
You stumbled back, right into Alastor’s arms. Head spinning, you allowed him to set you down on the chair. Alastor kept a hand on your arm, watching your every movement with surgical focus. He knew, you realized. He knew how guilty you felt, how much anxiety it was causing you. How long he’d known, you had no idea, but you could feel it in the way he wouldn’t let you go. You didn’t want him to let you go. 
“Are you okay?” Lucifer looked frantic, obviously worried. “Do you need water? Something to eat? Medicine? I’m sure there’s some around here somewhere, if you just give me a minute—”
“I’m fine,” you interrupted, trying to muster a smile. You failed. How Alastor held his grin all day, every day, was a mystery to you. “Well, okay, maybe not fine.”
“They could use water,” Alastor provided, only a slight edge in his voice. Nodding, Lucifer ran off to get a glass of water, leaving you and Alastor alone in the parlor. 
Alastor was silent for a moment. You could tell he was trying to figure out what to say. “I apologize for not noticing your anxiety sooner.” A little joy fluttered in your chest. Alastor enjoyed watching everyone’s suffering—everyone except for you.
“It’s not your fault,” you told him. “I should’ve been more upfront. I just…” You were still a little shaky. Alastor’s hand moved so it rested over your hand. The rubber duck was still in your other hand, and you turned it over with your fingers, fidgeting with it. “I didn’t want you to leave me.”
“Now that is nonsense if I ever heard any!” Alastor laughed. “What a ridiculous sentiment, my dear. It would take more than that to take me from you, I assure you.”
“But I know how much you hate him.” You looked towards the direction Lucifer had gone. “You hate that he’s here. You hate that he’s meddling. And this is just another reason to hate him.”
Alastor was contemplating his words again when Lucifer came back. He gently handed you the glass of water, causing you to have to put your duck down. Alastor was right to ask for it—the water helped. The air was tense as Lucifer and Alastor glared at one another while also keeping an eye on you. 
“When you are happy, I am happy,” Alastor said out of the blue. Both you and Lucifer looked to him for clarification. “If talking with Lucifer makes you happy…” Alastor swallowed, gritting his teeth, glowering deeply at Lucifer, “then, by that logic, it makes me happy.”
“Hey, same here.” Lucifer put his arms up symbolically. “I’m not gonna leave my friend just because I hate their boyfriend– er, whatever you are, that is.”
“Partner,” you and Alastor said in unison.
“Right. That.” 
The air was still tense, but it made you feel better knowing that Alastor and Lucifer wouldn’t be fighting over you, at the very least. 
“Okay,” you said suddenly, having finished your water. “I’m going to bed. Thanks again for the duck, Lucifer.”
You barely heard Alastor growl at Lucifer upon realizing that he’d given you a gift, but it just caused you to smile fondly. Alastor was quick to step in beside you, taking your arm to escort you up to your room. 
“You’re welcome!” Lucifer called back. “But don’t think that just because you and Alastor are partners that I’ll make one for him too!” You had to stifle a laugh. Lucifer was too sweet for his own good, no matter how awkward it made him seem.
You turned so Lucifer could see your grin. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
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kelogsloops · 4 months
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I got to make a painting for the Attack on Titan: Final Season 😭
I wanted to create a piece focusing on the relationship between Eren & Mikasa and this idea of how they’re connected to each other. I can’t help but think about how they both share this theme of fate, faced with making difficult choices that lead to extreme, world-ending scenarios. They’re both bound by these chains of fate; Eren to his past, present & future as a Titan, and Mikasa with her loyalty and conscience to Eren. Below them, the aftermath of the Rumbling urges them toward their futures
#brbchasingdreams
prints | tutorials
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