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#it always starts with a headache or back pain and i just know from there :(
reidsdimples · 19 hours
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The First Time
Spencer Reid x Reader
The BAU helps you on a case, things get heated between you and Spencer.
Spencer takes your virginity 🤭
18+❤️‍🔥
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You rock gently back and forth on the wooden porch swing. The night Is quiet, peaceful. Only a small breeze stirring up leaves to keep your thoughts of the day at bay.
It was over. The lakeside killer was dead. Thanks to the BAU, your small town of Rockwell can rest easy again. You can breathe. You’re one of two homicide detectives in the whole town and you’ve only been at it for a year- this case nearly destroyed you.
Kids.
Why kids?
It’s always kids they want to hurt. You blink back tired and sigh.
“Hey,” comes a soft voice followed by soft steps on the wooden porch. The BAU team is staying at the lodge, set for departure in the morning. It was the only accommodations the deportment could offer.
“Dr. Reid. I thought everyone was asleep,” you give him a half smile and sip your tea. He’s wearing his FBI jacket that seems unbelievably comfortable.
“Most of them are, I had no luck though,” he gives you a sympathetic grin. The three small bodies recovered today didn’t make the murderers death feel like a victory.
“Me either,” you shrug.
You know then just how much he gets it, pain recognizes pain. He feels it, he’s seen it. You pat the bench for him to sit next to you, he does so.
Talking to Spencer always reminded you of talking to an old friend. This was the second time you’d met him, though before was under better circumstances. You were relived he was the one who came outside and your stomach whirled when he sat beside you.
“I feel disgusting after today. The things we see… do you think they tarnish us?“ You ask him.
“We are a culmination of how we identify ourselves and thus present ourselves to the outside world. If you let it, it can consume you. It’s hard not to make these things apart of us, not to become some uglier version of ourselves,” he answers, fidgeting with his fingers.
“I’ll just have to take solace in knowing he can’t hurt anyone ever again,” you nod. You rub at the back of your neck, the tension in your head pounding.
“There are actually a few pressure points to more adequately elevate headaches, here I’ll show you,” Spencer says. He prompts you to turn from him on the swing. You swallow, unable to say anything. Is he about to touch you?
“This…” his long fingers drape over your shoulders, his thumbs pressing into the base of your neck. “Is known as the shoulder well.” He adds more pressure and moves his thumbs in a circular motion. The tension trailing up your neck warms and starts to ease.
He continues to press into the spot that seems to force your entire body to relax. His hands working skillfully I so the muscles, his fingertips grazing over your collarbones. Somehow a small moan slips out and you hope he doesn’t hear it. Only he pauses, falters in his rhythm. He heard you.
“They call this the gates of consciousness,” his voice is lower. His hands move up your neck, his thumbs at the base of your skull. His touch sends shivers and electricity through you. Your nipples harden but he can’t know that. He presses into the space between your tense neck muscles, willing the tension into submission. It works.
“Spencer,” his name slips out and your head lulls back towards him. The blinding headache has subsided. All you can think about is his hands on you.
The warmth in his fingers as he grips your neck to hold your head up, his suddenly noticeable body heat in the space between you, and his scent all become overwhelming.
His hands move from your neck to your head, his middle fingers gently rubbing your temples. Then somehow you find that you’re leaning back into his chest. His hushed breathing steady, he doesn’t seem to mind.
The swing sways gently, only one of his legs on the ground to steady it. His other leg folded beneath you. He stops his massaging and lays an arm across your chest, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He squeezes your shoulder reassuringly while his other hand brushes through your hair. You close your eyes and take in the sensation of his touch while the wind chimes play softly in the autumn breeze.
You’ve never been touched this way, never felt the warmth gather between your legs at a man’s actions. It’s new, you welcome it.
“You’re beautiful in the moonlight,” he hums as he mindlessly runs his fingers through your hair. It takes you off guard, leaving you feeling exposed as your cheeks heat.
You squirm against him but manage to look upward at him. He looks down at you, the top of your head against his chest as you strain to see him. He’s breathtaking. You reach up and touch his face, grazing his jawline with your fingertips. He clenches it, attempting to maintain some modicum of control.
If you weren’t you, if you weren’t inexperienced, you would invite him to bed. You can’t do that though, you’ve never had sex. It would surely be awkward. You sigh and drop your hand, the need turning into agony in the pit of your stomach. You won’t ask that of this brilliant man. You sit up and break contact with him altogether.
“What’s wrong?” He placed a hand on your thigh, looking at you through concerned brown eyes.
“I-“ you pause. You don’t know how to tell him you want him, much less that you’re a virgin. You don’t want any pressure placed on him. You just shake your head, words failing you. You stand from the swing look off of the porch into the night.
He moves quietly to stand behind you, you stop breathing when his tall lean frame closes around you. His arms wrap you into him and he sways gently.
“I know we should keep this professional,” he whispers in your ear. His breath brushing your neck and making you come alive. “But you drive me crazy.”
His words are clipped, hurried, hushed, and needy. He turns you to face him and before you can respond, you’re leaning up to meet his kiss. His hands grip your face, his mouth invading yours hungrily. You twist your fists into his shirt, a couple of the buttons popping open as you pull him closer. Both of you desperate for touch, for comfort.
His hands fall and find your waist, gripping tight, before traveling up your shirt.
You inhale sharply and jump, sensitive to his touch. A foreign delicious sensation sweeping over you.
He pauses and stares into your eyes, his own blown wide with need.
“Have you never been touch before?” He speaks softly.
You shake your head ‘no’ shyly. He grins and leans down to kiss you delicately. He intertwines his fingers with yours.
“Follow me,” he instructs and leads you quietly back into the massive lodge where everyone is staying.
He pulls you playfully behind him up the wooden stairs, his finger length hair falling messily as he walks. Your eyes trace his long legs, taking in how his pants hug his waist. Your mouth waters, actually waters.
Finally you’re in his room, it’s almost completely dark save for the sparse moonlight trickling through the drapes.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” You ask him as he closes the space between the two of you.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He seems perplexed.
“Maybe,” you giggle.
“I want to make you feel good, I’ll go as far as you’re comfortable taking this,” he tilts your chin up to kiss you.
“I just don’t want to put pressure on you because I’ve never…” you trail off.
“You’re not,” he reassures you. He steps forward, his hands resting on your hips, prompting you to walk backward.
The backs of your knees find the bed and he guides you down into it. You exhale softly when he pushes your shirt up, hands gliding over your skin.
“So soft,” he praises and plants a kiss on your stomach. He’s kneeling between your legs, planting whispers of kisses across your stomach from one hip bone to the other.
He yanks your pants down abruptly and slides your panties down with them, discarding them.
You immediately feel exposed and squeeze your legs closed. But then his hands are trailing up your legs from your ankles to your thighs. It sends waves of euphoria over your body and you arch your back when he parts your legs once more.
“You don’t have to hide,” he plants a kiss on your inner thigh. You groan and squirm beneath him.
He pulls your legs onto his shoulders before reaching up and squeezing your breasts hard. He looks breathtaking between your legs, drawing out your moans as he rolls your nipples between his fingers.
“Spencer,” you beg. His breath fans across your vagina in a sweet tortuous way that stirs a need so intense that your eyes roll back.
He slides his fingers down your slit, a noise of appreciation comes from his throat when he finds you wet. He coats his fingers in it before slowly pressing his middle finger into you. It’s new, but it feels so good. You tense up in anticipation.
“Relax, it’ll feel better,” he coaches and pushes into you further. “You’re so tight,” he muses.
He slowly moves his long middle finger in and out and brings his tongue down to your clit. You cry out as pleasure envelopes you. He sucks hard and curves his finger upward causing you to buck against him. You moan as his tongue and finger drive you wild, beckoning closer to the edge.
“Fuck,” you cry and grind against his face. You’ve never felt so good, you didn’t know pleasure like this existed.
He dips his tongue into with his finger and trails it back up to your clit.
“So sweet,” he praises against you and continues his torture.
You are wound so impossible right that it’s almost painful, he has you moaning and crying out into the room. Your legs are shaking around his head and he only picks up the pace with his finger.
“Shhh, don’t wake the others,” he warns. His words coming out between lapping at your cunt cause you to cum with a restrained groan.
You shake against him and he removed his finger, pleased with himself. His grin drives you crazy so you grab him by his collar and pull him on top of you.
“Mmmm,” he moans. “What do you want me to do to you now?” He hovers above you and nips at your neck with his teeth. You feel his cock straining against his pants, prompting you to reach down and unbuckle his pants.
Your need for him is so primal, so singular, that you can’t focus on anything else. He helps you and pulls his pants partially down.
He pushes your legs back, opening you wider for him.
“Remember what I said, focus on relaxing,” he instructs. You nod, biting your lip which he notices. He kisses you hard, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth.
He pushes his cock against your entrance, pressing in gently. Your breathing hitches as your body begins to expand around the head of his cock. He’s not even in yet, but it burns.
Spencer grips your hair, moving slowly as he eases himself into you.
“Ah,” you wince.
“It’s okay baby, you can take it,” he reassures you. “Breathe,” he whispers.
When you exhale slowly he pushes in further. You feel it the moment your hymen breaks with a sharp sting but then he’s able to push himself in further.
That slight pain gives way to intense pleasure and then he’s inside of you completely. He shudders and a moan erupts from deep inside of his chest.
He pulls his hips back, working his cock out of you before pushing himself back in.
“You feel so good,” he grunts and links his fingers with yours.
Your hands are linked above your head, he thrusts into you slowly and desperately. The sounds of your moans feel the room and entangle with his breathy whimpers. His other hand grips your thigh as he rolls deeper and deeper into you.
Raw pleasure consumes you until you know nothing but the connection of your bodies, his breathing, his cock beckoning you to the edge.
“You’re doing so good,” he moans. Your free hind curls into his hair, forcing him to look eyes with you.
His mouth falls open as he rocks in and out of you. You lose yourself in him, you lose the ability to restrain your moans. He crashes his mouth into yours, absorbing the sounds. He tastes like mint and salt. He tastes delicious and your tongues fight for dominance. Your hips thrust upward to meet he’s rhythm and you think you’re going to cum again.
You didn’t think you’d be able to because of the pain but it’s too good, he’s too good.
“Spencer,” you break the kiss and shatter as he pauses so you can ride your orgasm out against him. Fuck.
“So pretty cumming for me,” he whispers breathlessly. “I’m gonna-“ he grunts and pulls partially out of you.
You feel him shudder, his cock pulsing, and then you feel his warmth flood you. He pulls out the rest of the way, allowing his cum to pour out of you. He watches in awe for a moment, his tongue darting across his bottom lip.
His short hair is tousled, his forehead beading with sweat, and his lips are plump and raw from kissing you.
“Let me run you a bath,” he offers. You drag the blanket over yourself and smile when you nod.
He stands to his full height, tugs his pants up, and leans down to kiss you.
“You did so good,” he grins and disappears into the bathroom.
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clanoffelidae · 4 months
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It’s always ‘man I wish I was at home’ until you actually have a reason to stay home because you feel bad and then it’s ‘man I wish I was at work because that would mean I didn’t feel awful’
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cocklessboy · 10 months
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The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.
I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.
And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!
We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.
There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.
Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.
Except...
I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.
I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.
The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.
Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".
There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.
And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.
His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.
I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.
That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.
I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.
Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.
Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.
If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.
It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.
I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.
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httpsclarye · 7 months
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#GOOD LOKING+!
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Your plan was quick and simple. You would go to the kitchen, make some tea to ease your headache, and then return to your comfy bed. You weren't expecting to come across your crew's blonde cook barechested cutting carrots.
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Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader
Word count: 3k
Warnings: 18+ content, smut, swearing, pet names, big dick sanji, kitchen sex, blow job, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, sanji moaning, p in v type of sex.
Ao3: Good Looking
English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes :) Enjoy!
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You are used to this. The utterly exhausted sensation after several hand-to-hand combats, so when the headache started when you finally lay down in bed, you just decided to ignore it; the sleep would catch up before it got.
Until the needed sleep never got you. So, after an hour or two of rubbing your temples and staring at the ceiling while feeling envy-induced annoyance for Nami’s peaceful breathing, you pushed yourself to stand up.
Even if the cool night air almost makes you wish you hadn't left your warm bed, you needed that green tea to stop the pounding headache in the back of your head. The kitchen lights shining through the window went undetected as your mind was busy figuring out how you could prepare the drink quickly so that the pain could cease as soon as possible.
“Oh, it’s you, darling. Is everything alright?” As you walked into the door and recognized Sanji's words, you snapped out of your thoughts and began to look over your surroundings. He was not wearing any type of shirt while he sliced carrots from behind the counter.
Barechested. Topless. Half naked.
“Y-yes, I mean, no. Just a headache.” You gaze the blonde in the eyes as you stumble through your sentences, you are merely vaguely aware that your face is beginning to turn red. “I just want that green tea; I know it's somewhere around here. I saw Nami storing it in the cabinets earlier.”
You felt foolish. You became used to seeing shirtless men given that you lived in the middle of the ocean and therefore often came across Luffy, Usopp, and even Zoro barechested. They would often walk around the deck that way on hot days. Sanji, however, always showed up in a suit or, at the very least, had a formal shirt rolled up to his elbows. Even so, there was no chance of seeing him dressed otherwise since he went to sleep after you and woke up before everyone.
“I can do it for you; it’s my job after all, taking care of my sweet girl.” He placed the knife down, threw the chopped carrots in a nearby pot, and proceeded to go through the cupboards. “Love, do you remember where she stored it? There are plenty of cabinets in this place.”
"What are you doing here?" You instantly regret your tone as you noted Sanji just froze in his search.
“I mean, sorry, the kitchen is your place, I know. I just never saw you here this hour, and me and Luffy go here to do midnight snacks sometimes”
“I could not sleep”
“Me too” Once again, an irrational remark. He was informed that you were having trouble falling asleep; that's why you were there. “Why the carrots?”
“The attack that happened today. I had hoped for more food, but I believe you are aware of how fucked our situation is.” He continued looking for the tea while chuckling flatly. “We don't know when we will receive more supplies; we right now have barely anything stocked. Even the carrot peels have been put to use in an effort to reduce waste, you know.”
You weren't sure how to respond. It was clear that everyone's mood was negatively affected by today's incident. The worry of what would happen in the next few days or weeks was filling your head since Usopp managed to escape the ship. His back was to you, so you were unable to see his facial expressions, but you couldn't help but notice his muscles.
You felt a little guilty since you couldn't take your focus away from it, despite him having just voiced some serious concern. Has he lately started working out, or has he always had muscles like that?
“Are you and Luffy close then?”
The sudden break in silence confused you as he turned toward you with the pot of tea in his hands and a pleased smile.
“I suppose so. After all, he was the one who invited me to join the crew, right?” You smirked at the thought. It wasn't much time—perhaps a few months—and you were losing track of time at sea. “I fearlessly agreed to become a pirate, although I had never spent more than two weeks on a boat.”
“I remember that. You were so naive”
Of course he remembers. When you joined the crew, it was very easy to have a conversation with Sanji; he was constantly complimenting you or flirting in a straightforward manner. You never took him seriously, hearing about the blonde's techniques from Nami from the first day, but it was often hard not to chuckle or blush when he was so…
“Not anymore.”
He grinned at you before returning his attention to the tea. It was impossible to look away from his bare chest. You were unable to rest your mind from imagining how his skin would feel on your hand now that he was in your line of sight. You are already aware that he's a good-looking man, but now seeing more of his body did things to you.
“All right, madam. Here is your tea.” He circles the counters until he's right next to you. Really close. His eyes twinkle with recklessness, and you know he caught you staring at his figure.
You ignore the tickle in your lower belly as you stand there, grab the mug in your hands, and sip while gazing at his face. He still has that typical smirk, and when you finally finish drinking your tea, he glances at your lips before returning to your eyes. Everything becomes fuzzy and hot then.
He's very close. His hand has been lying on the counter, his chest is nearly brushing your own, and you can't help but notice his modest, almost transparent blonde hair in there. Perhaps it's a sign for you to walk away, that this is going in a dangerous direction, but you can't.
“What dear? See something you lik-”
You interrupt him with a kiss; it's all very messy and quick, and he is unable to have time to handle everything. You come to an abrupt halt and stare at him with wide eyes, realizing what you have done.
“Sanji, fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t meant t-”
He didn't let you finish the apologies. His hand pulls your head back, bringing your lips together. The kiss looks right now. It begins carefully, with both sides cautious, but it quickly gets heated as he doesn't hesitate to push his tongue into your mouth.
You’re breathless when he finally pulls away, and his eyes are hungry. He didn't think twice before pressing his open mouth and tongue on your neck. A moan escapes from your lips.
His left hand shifts down to grab your hip, and you catch your breath. Your hands graze his nipples as you reach for his pecs, and he hisses at the fresh sensation in your throat.
“Gods Y/N, you’re going to kill me this way”
You chuckled, and he kissed you again, although this time you took charge, moving one of your hands to his blonde hair before tilting his head to grant you more access. You stop the action just to take a moment to recover and gaze into his dilated pupils. He looks so attractive like that that you can’t help but want to go down on him.
”Sanji,” You whisper breathlessly, enjoying the sensation of his name in your mouth, “let me taste you.”
He groans in response, which you take as encouragement as you lean down and proceed. You lick and kiss the trail that leads to his crotch, and he hisses softly, his abdomen tense beneath your hands and mouth. As you get down on your knees and look at his pants, you can see his erection, which seems big and marked.
You don't hesitate to pull down the waistband of his pants and boxers together, exposing his hard, leaking cock to your eyes. It's big. It's more than you expected. There's a buildup of cum at the head, and you reach forward and wrap your lips around it, licking gently just to tease.
You look up as you swirl your tongue over the tip and dip your tongue into the slit to see him biting his lower lips, his head thrown back. You wanted to see his face while sucking him. So you take him out of your mouth and cautiously wrap a hand around him, teasing him a little with your hand. Your movements are agonizingly slow as you lightly suck and lick the sensitive head until finally he looks down.
“Oh, darling, you’re so pretty like that.” Sanji whined above you, and then your mouth opened around the head of his cock, and he slid it into your mouth. “Fuck, fuck. So… so perfect.”
You can clearly see the blonde struggling to keep his composure, like how his knuckles are white while gripping the counter behind him. You relax your throat, take a long breath through your nose, and exhale slowly before swallowing him whole while gripping his inner thighs.
His penis is large, so the initial sensation isn't the most pleasant, but as he lets out a loud groan, you forget about everything. Something about hearing Sanji whine in the kitchen while you gagged on his cock made the aching between your legs unbearable.
"Oh yeah, Y/N. You are so good to me. Your mouth feels so good in me.”
You moaned softly at his words of praise, making vibrations around his penis, causing another moan from him. His left hand reached from the counter to your hair, and you didn't reject the help while bobbing your head up and down.
“My love, you are so perfec-“
A few tears occasionally escaped as you sucked him and he fucked your throat, sometimes only taking him out to run your tongue along his length. You started to see signs that he was close to cum. One of your hands left the thighs to rub his balls.
 “I… I'm going to cum, Y/N, dear... I" He gives you a chance to pull away from him, but you choose to continue and accept it all. You remove the entire length of his throat and leave just the head in your mouth.
He comes soon after, with a muffled groan, while you attempt to swallow as much as you can before it gets difficult, followed by a satisfied moan coming from you.
You felt his hand leave your hair, and for two or three minutes, you just remained there. He has his head back and is trying to catch his breath while you are on your knees, glancing at his chest and the beads of sweat gathering on his neck. It’s a perfect vision, honestly. You ponder whether he would notice if you began to masturbate right then.
“Come on, madam, let me help you up.” Sanji extends his hand to support you in getting up, and once you are upright, he grabs hold of your waist to keep you close to him.
He kisses you, tasting himself in your mouth. It's slow, and you realize he's still trying to emerge from his afterglow. When he breaks the kiss, that smile returns to his face, and you peck him once more just to get rid of it.
Sanji deepened the kiss again. And fuck, what else could you do but reply in the same aggressive way?
You're hoisted up by the hands on your hips and thrown onto the counter. The blonde is now between your legs, breaking the kiss, only to go straight to that specific spot on your neck that you're almost certain will leave a mark in the morning.
“Oh- Sanji,” You try to speak breathlessly as he licks your collarbone and his fingers brush the hem of your t-shirt, “You don’t h-have to do that.”
It wasn't that you didn't want Sanji. Since you entered that kitchen and spotted him without a shirt, you wanted this. Yet, you took the decision to give him an opportunity to back out, be thankful for the blowjob, and never bring up the matter again. Him taking you would be very personal.
“Please, my love,” You can hear the yearning in his voice as he whispers in your ear. “I just want to make you feel good too.”
You nod, and he attacks your mouth once again while his hands pull the hem of your t-shirt, exposing your chest, and you can't stop yourself from moaning at being so bare to him.
He doesn't think twice about placing his mouth on your breasts as he rolls the hard bud between his teeth and tongue and gives the other one a gentle stroke with his other hand. He bites your nipple as your head is flung back, and all you can do is pray that no one hears your loud scream.
He takes his mouth from your breasts and begins a trail down your stomach, and you can't stop whining due to the lack of warm sensation from his tongue in your niples, but you quickly figure out where he's headed as he lowers himself between your thighs.
He doesn't ask for permission as he aggressively rips off your shorts and, along with them, your underwear, revealing your pussy to him. He pulled your hips closer and dragged a finger down your folds, then placed it inside his mouth.
"Oh, you're so soaking wet, just for me, hm?" You are so stunned by the sight that you hardly pay attention to what the blonde is saying. “You taste so good, my darling.”
You stand on your elbows and glance at the man who is standing in between your legs. You can't help but gasp at the taunting as he starts giving you small small bites and kisses along your inner thighs. But you want him now.
“Oh Sanji, stop teasing for fuc-“
He didn't wait for you to finish the curse word before burying his face, pushing his tongue against your wet pussy, and licking a long, temptingly slow strip through your folds until he reached your sensitive bud.
In an attempt to create more friction, you thrust your hips into his mouth, and your left hand immediately settled on his blonde hair. Sanji found the ideal pattern to swirl his tongue over your clitoral region, leaving you panting for air.
He pushed two fingers deep within you, and you felt your walls clenching around them, sucking him in. His pace was fast, and he was still paying careful attention to your clit, leaving you close to the edge. You were a mess, and it wouldn't take long for you to cum. Yet you still needed him; you wanted more.
You sucked in a sharp breath and tried to block out the inappropriate sounds echoing through the kitchen.
“Sanji, p-please more”
"Use your words, my angel." You could see the glistening fluids from your pussy plastered on his chin when he pushed his head off of your thighs. “What do you want?”
“Fuck me, oh g-gods. I need you inside me." At your words, he groaned and took both of his fingers out to direct his cock at your entrance.
It wasn't difficult for him to enter since you were so soaked. At the feeling of it, you both simultaneously moaned. You felt completely filled; he just stood there for a while, waiting for you to get used to the size, until you signaled for him to start moving. It began off slow, but soon he started out moving his hips at a faster pace to satisfy both of you.
"You're perfect,” he moaned in two thrusts, and you had to put your hand over your mouth. “Look at you, taking my cock so well, oh darling.”
The hands on your hips let go and grabbed you under your right thigh, opening your legs and hitting you more deeply and faster. You thought you were seeing stars when he hit an exact spot inside your pussy that made you shout.
“Cum for me, my love. I know you want”
It didn't take long for your orgasm to hit you after that, your eyes rolled back and you let out a whine sound as you felt your walls squeeze his dick. He moaned along with you at the feeling and a few more thrusts and he came inside you.
Sanji's head fell directly to your shoulder, and you instinctively placed your palm in his blond locks. While the fluid was slowly dripping out of you, he continued to remain deep inside and breathe loudly.
He raised his head only to smile recklessly while glancing into your mouth. “So, do you still have a headache?”
Your hand reached out to push him, but you were helpless to suppress the giggles that came. He drew away from inside you but was still between your knees as he chuckled proudly.
“Do you think anyone heard?”
“I'm not sure, maybe when you let out that screa-" You slapped him on the shoulder to cut him off while embarrassed because of the probability. “Ok, ok my darling, next time we’ll find a more private place.”
“Next time, huh?
Sanji stood still with an anxious smile on his face; it was almost hilarious how someone so confident in themselves would respond in that manner. You wrapped his neck with both of your arms and gave him a quick kiss to reassure him that everything was fine.
"You should come to the kitchen more often, preferably alone.”
"And you should go shirtless more often too.”
"Only for you, my love.”
You gave him another kiss before leaving the counter, getting ready to go, and returning to the bedroom. Even though the night seemed to be becoming lighter, you were aware that there were still a few hours until sunrise. It was evident that there would be plenty of issues to address when you awoke, but for the time being, you were content, even though you were a little exhausted from the activities. As sleep came, all you could think of was Sanji and his smile.
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”why are you so good at that?”
his caress is gentle. tender, steady, secure; and practiced, you can tell, just from the instant relief you feel — the vivid care in how his fingertips smooth along your skin. 
suguru presses his thumbs into the bridge of your nose, right beneath your forehead, big palms cupping your face. they’re warm, calloused, but still somehow so soft — massaging you gently. the pads of his fingers trail upwards, rubbing soothing little circles against your temples. as if he’s memorized every patch of skin, seen the very inside of your skull. as if he knows exactly where to apply pressure to make the sharp jolts of pain go away. 
and it’s working. the room you’re in is dimly lit, illuminated only by the vermilion rays of the setting sun, bleeding in through the gap between the opened shoji screens. a faint, summery scent accompanies them; like burnt roses, or a salty ocean breeze, not enough to rouse the nausea in your throat. it’s quiet. all you can hear is the soft humming of your lover, and your own relieved breaths, pulled out by his skillful hands. his pointer fingers pinch between your brows, and another one follows. the sweetest little sigh. 
”am i?” his voice is soft, even more so than usual, as if the slightest noise could disrupt your peace. a smile is knit between the vowels. ”i’m glad.”
he sounds a little tired. it’s been a long day for both of you, so it’s no surprise. when you finally got back home, the inside of your skull was tormented by a persistent ache, and suguru was blinking with fatigue — though he still insisted on doing this. lying you down on his lap, like a fragile doll, crossing his legs to give you enough space to rest comfortably; the back of your head finding respite on his thigh. senses enveloped by the silk of his robes, smelling lightly of cherry blossoms and sandalwood.
and, after only a couple minutes of his loving treatment, the ache began to dull. sweet relief seeping into your nerves.
he reminds you to take deep breaths, watching intently as the contours of your face fall back into a state of tranquility. whenever he shifts, the tatami mats beneath him rustle, and your muddled mind sways like the rocking of a boat; slight, but still enough to coax a wince from out your throat, a tiny spark of pain blooming between your sinuses, followed by a murmured apology from the man above you. 
a hum buzzes in his throat. you hear it, eyes still shut, waiting for him to answer your question. and he does — so weak to you, always, your voice a key to his locked-up heart.
”back in high school…” he starts, diligently continuing his facial massage, comforting circles rubbed into your skin. ”... my best friend got migraines often.” 
a soft groan slips from out your parted lips, when he pushes against a certain spot — locating the pressure points like brushing specks of dust from off his clothing. effortless. 
”ah,” you click your tongue, melting into his touch. turning into a boneless puddle, cradled in his lap, comfy as can be. ”your mysterious bestie, huh?”
it’s not the first you’ve heard of him. suguru’s mentioned this best friend before, though only in passing, in whispers, comments he hopes will sound absentminded. they never do, though; because suguru says the word friend like it’s a prayer. 
that explains it, though. no wonder it feels so good. it is practiced — he’s used to soothing other people’s headaches. should you feel jealous?
well, maybe. but you mostly think it’s kind of sweet.
before you can think of what you’re saying, the words have left your lips. they tumble out like little pizzicato drops, spoken casually, matter-of-factly. a tiny chirp of a thing.
”you must have loved him a lot.”
silence.
for just a moment, the thumbs pressing against your skin halt their movement. just for a second, but enough to notice, and suddenly you feel a little like the air has been sucked out of the room — even with your eyes closed, you know suguru’s smile is nowhere to be seen. 
it’s funny, how well you’ve come to know him. how you’ve learned to memorize every expression you’ve ever seen him make, any signs of distress or discomfort. he does this thing with his eyes, sometimes — a thin kind of concealment, when you shuffle a little too close for his comfort. figuratively speaking, because you’re almost certain he’d let you crawl under his skin if you asked. but sometimes you twist the key to his heart a little too abruptly, and his eyes of gold and ochre shift in the light, honey clogging the interior of his cornea. something sickly-sweet. something he’s kept locked up for a long time.
a nostalgia so palpable it breaks your heart just to look at it.
you don’t want to open your eyes. you don’t want to see the kind of face he’s making right now. you don’t want to know if he’s pursing his lips, or furrowing his brows, just because of your carelessly chosen words — you know his old best friend is a sensitive subject. gosh, you’re stupid. 
stupid, stupid, stupid.
(why can’t you ever just read the room?)
blindly, you stumble for something to say, parting your lips. desperate to change the topic, to save him from this suffocating silence.
— but then suguru breaks it.
”yeah.”
when your eyes flutter open, he’s looking out into the garden. watching the sun, as it sinks beneath the mountains, lips curved up into a small smile.
”i suppose i did.”
you take a moment to look at him. the bridge of his nose, the firm lines of his jaw — the slightest tremble of the muscle. and those eyes, set afire by the final rays of the setting sun, burned to ash. filled with… something. not regret.
just longing.
suddenly, the pads of his fingers are dancing along your skin again; gliding down to pinch your nose. it makes you yelp, a tiny squeak.
and then he’s looking at you. 
”but i love you more,” he croons, a little tilt of his head that make his bangs move like a black curtain. eyes swirling with humour, something syrupy and teasing, awfully fond. ”my little dove.”
before you know it, your cheeks are blossoming with warmth; the branches of your lips curling up into a shy smile. his attention is a little too much to bear, so you wriggle out of his grasp — turning around to press your face into his stomach. his sleeves cast a curtain around you, a protective veil, but it’s not long until you’re being coaxed back into your original position.
”ah ah,” he tuts, chiding you lovingly; a coo in the back of his throat. ”none of that. let me take care of you.”
all you can do is groan, meekly, squeezing your eyes shut. suguru only chuckles, cupping your cheeks and continuing to apply pressure on your forehead and nose, large warm palms against your chilled skin — unwilling to let you escape his pampering.
the sun sets eventually. but he keeps you on his lap until the headache has faded entirely, until your eyelids have dragged you into a deep slumber, until tiny snores are seeping from your parted lips. until the moon has pulled itself into the night sky above you.
somehow, even on the brink of exhaustion, you manage to feel his warm lips against your forehead; hear the muffled murmur against your skin.
”sweet dreams, my darling,” comes a whisper, deep and silky, coaxing you further into the cradle of sleep. his thumb smooths along your cheekbone, down to the curve of your jaw — a trail of warmth. ”come back to me soon, won’t you?”
he smiles. you feel it, that soft upward curve, a blissed out sensation drowning you in white noise. the space inside your mind is free of pain, filled only with thoughts of him, the lines of his fingers burning patterns into your skin. one final kiss pressed between your brows, and then he’s pulling away; curling his arms under your knees and hoisting you up. into his steady arms, his robes shielding you from the soft glow of the stars.
”… don’t dawdle in dreamland for too long.”
the whisper goes unheard. fast asleep, suguru can only gaze at you, drinking in the serenity on your features. trying not to remember a boy with blue eyes — the similar expression he wore once his migraines had begun to fade.
he shakes his head, and carries you towards the bedroom. safe and sound in his embrace.
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rninies · 3 months
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✮ drunken confessions
౨ৎ gojo satoru x reader. fluff, fem!reader, nicknames (princess and sweetheart), mentions of alcohol, drunk reader — wc: 791
notes. my choso fic is never gonna finish (start) because i keep writing for gojo wtf
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“toruu.” you slur, arms wrapped around his neck as satoru carry you on his back. your breath smells like alcohol due to you drinking two glasses of wine — you’re a lightweight, but that doesn’t stop you from having fun with your friends. satoru had been called prior to the party, your friends knowing that you would need his help getting back home.
“hm?” satoru hums. “what is it?”
“you have such a cute face,” you confess, your hands clumsily squishing his cheeks — satoru gasps as your cold hands touch his cheeks. “just wanna pinch and kiss your cheeks all day.”
satoru laughs. “really? you think i’m cute?”
“mhm,” you reply, eyes drooping. “you’re the cutest man i have ever met.” instead of replying, satoru stays silent, finally realizing that you had indirectly confessed your feelings for him. “i always look forward to meeting you…”
“i do too, princess.” satoru replies softly. when you don’t respond, he knows you have fallen asleep, finally giving in to your drowsiness. he sighs, smiling to himself — he knows he’ll be teasing you about this tomorrow, and if you don’t remember a single thing from tonight, he will make sure you remember.
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you wake up to an intense headache the next morning. groaning, you massage your temples, trying to soothe the pain though it doesn’t help. you don’t remember much about yesterday, only remembering that your friends had asked you to come hang out with them. you remember satoru coming to the club but after that, you don’t remember anything else.
scanning the room, you don’t notice anything out of the ordinary, only a glass of water next to your bedside table with a small sticky note right next to it. you grab the sticky note, reading ‘text me when u wake up plz’ in satoru’s handwriting. confused, you grab your phone and write a quick text to satoru.
in ten minutes, you hear a knock on your door, already expecting it to be satoru. “i’m letting myself in! you don’t mind, do you?” satoru asks, already inside your home without waiting for you to reply.
“you do that every day, you don’t have to ask,” you reply, walking down the stairs. satoru is wearing a white t-shirt with shorts (you can’t help but stare because how can someone wear something so casual but still look so good?). clearing your throat, you avert your eyes. “why did you ask me to text you?” you ask, showing satoru the note he wrote.
“oh,” he sighs. “do you remember anything from last night? anything at all?”
“um, i do remember going to the club with my friends. you were there too… other than that i don’t remember anything else.” you reply. “why?” satoru looks disappointed, and you wonder if you have said something wrong. he suddenly walks up to you before turning you around. “what are you doing?”
satoru suddenly squishes your cheeks from behind, repeating your words from last night. “you have such a cute face. just wanna pinch and kiss your cheeks all day.”
all the memories from last night flooded back into your head, remembering everything that happened between you and satoru. your eyes widen, cheeks turning red. “you-!” you turn your head, eyes meeting satoru.
satoru smiles. “do you remember now?”
“i can’t-” you look away, can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. “i can’t believe you remember that.”
“i couldn’t sleep last night because you confessed to me and you expect me to forget about it?” satoru asks in disbelief, turning you around so he can see you better. “you’re asking the impossible here, sweetheart.”
“sweet-” you choked on your spit. “what?”
“what?” satoru asks innocently. “am i not allowed to call you that? i thought we were dating now?”
“we- huh?!” you exclaim. “we are?!”
“oh,” satoru takes your hand in his. “would you like to go out with me?” he looks at you, a big smile on his face. you open your mouth to respond but no words come out of your mouth. your mind goes blank when you see satoru’s smile, the only thing in your mind being how cute he is. “if you’re not going to say anything i’m going to assume it’s a yes and you do want to go out with me.”
“was me confessing yesterday not enough?” you blurt out, crossing your arms. “yes, i would like to go out with you, idiot.”
“that’s better.” satoru says, kissing your forehead. “well then!” he claps his hands. “go get ready. i want to take you somewhere today.”
“wha- now?” you ask. satoru nods, pushing you up the stairs. “but-”
“no buts! you agreed to be my girlfriend so you better be prepared for surprise dates!”
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taglist: @planetnini @xintre @kyoghurts @sad-darksoul @iminlovewqr0w (send an ask to be added!) <3
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moonchildstyles · 6 months
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angel getting high for the first time 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾
cw: drug use! its only weed, nothing heavy but if that makes you uncomfortable please skip :)
wordcount: 11.8k+
—————
(Y/N) kicked her legs in the air as she laid tummy down on her bed. She listened to the ringing from the phone pressed to her ear, waiting for a familiar voice to answer. 
In the middle of the third ring, her hopes were answered when a click sounded. Muffled background noise started through the speaker, accompanying a honeyed drawl.
"Hi, lovebug," Harry murmured, his speech seemingly slower than normal. 
"Hi," she chirped through her smile. Her feet kicked in the air, free hand coming up to twirl her hair around her index finger. "What are you doing?" 
A random burst of laughter bubbled through the other line, distant from the phone though it was still loud. "'M on the phone, be quiet," Harry reprimanded, voice far from the receiver before he returned with a decided softer tone, "Nothing, jus' trying to watch a movie with Mitch. What about you, baby?" 
"Just in bed," she mused, "I wanted to call before I went to sleep. Did you want me to let you go since you're with Mitch?" 
Since deciding on moving in together once their respective leases expired, (Y/N) had been making a point to spend more time with Sarah while she was still so close. She didn't want to get in the way if Harry was trying to do the same. 
"No, no, I wanna talk to you, 's alright," he assured her, "How was your day?" 
It was still sweet to (Y/N) the way that she could text him all day long, telling him everything about her day, and he still would ask her a question like this. He told her once that he likes hearing her voice, even if he already knows what she's telling him. 
"It was alright," she said, rolling to lay on her back, looking up at her ceiling, "I turned in that paper that I was working on last weekend, so that's all done. The library was super quiet today, though, I almost fell asleep in the philosophy section." 
A small laugh sounded from Harry. "Did y'really?" 
"Yeah," she sighed, a smile curling her lips, "Elizabeth had to come entertain me. But, what about you? You did that big piece today, right?" 
"Yeah, the thigh piece," he said, voice thick, "She was a nice girl, but I had a headache by the time we took the first break. She liked to talk a lot. M'hand's been cramping since lunch." 
A pout landed on (Y/N)'s lips. She hated hearing about those kinds of details from Harry's job. She had always figured it was so fun and glamorous, easy and fulfilling. She had never thought about the physical toll of drawing and shading and designing all day long. 
"Oh, no," she hummed, instinctively rolling her wrist and curling her fingers as if she could take his pain from miles away. "Did you take anything to help?" 
"Kind of. Mitch and I have been relaxing since he got home." 
She knew exactly what that meant. Though Harry tended to keep this specific hobby of his separated from her, set on the back burner away from the time he spent with her, she knew better. Besides, she had found that little bag in his dresser months ago, she wasn't completely clueless (of course, he did have to explain what she had found to her, but that was a different story). 
That would explain why time seemed to be moving a little bit slower on the other end of the phone, and the boisterous laughter Mitch was sharing in the background. 
"Have you been smoking?" she asked, voice quiet. She always felt a bit silly bringing this up to him, unsure of what terms to be using and what meant what exactly. 
"A little bit, yeah," he affirmed, "Sorry. I didn't know you'd be calling. I wouldn't have if I knew you wanted to talk tonight." 
Shaking her head despite the fact he couldn't see her, (Y/N) rushed her protests. "No, no, don't be sorry. I don't mind, you know that. As long as you're happy and you guys are being careful." 
"Always am, baby." 
A heat bubbled in her chest at his words. While he never did it around her, there were times that she called him or he FaceTimed her before bed when he was under the influence and his voice drawling just a little deeper, sitting heavier in his chest, hit her just perfectly. She could imagine the way his eyes were a bit hooded, his tongue sticking around his words, the easy smiles that spread across his face for no other reason than he liked the feeling. 
She wondered what he looked like in the act. Was it like the movies with lavender smoke and pieces of blown glass with intricate details? Or did he make his own little rolls, hanging from his lips like a cigarette? 
Mitch's loud laugh on the phone brought her back to reality, blinking her back to her room and Harry's static on the other end of the phone. Harry gave a muffled response before his own laughter joined his best friend's, the sound drawling and breezy. 
When he returned to the phone, she could hear the lingering smile in his tone. "I think Mitch found a movie for us to watch, love." 
"What is it?" she asked, feeling the end of the phone call nearing. She would have to settle for spraying the stuffed bunny he gifted her for Valentine's Day with a sample of his cologne for her to cuddle for the night. 
"I don't even know," he laughed, "but, I think 's gonna be funny. I think 'm gonna have to make us food, though, so I don't think I can talk for much longer." 
"That's okay. Have fun with Mitch and I'll talk to you tomorrow, right?" 
"Right," he affirmed, voice soft, "Sleep well, lovebug. I'll call you during my lunch." 
"Okay," she sighed, fitting her cheek against her pillow, "I love you." 
"I love you more, baby," he cooed, "Goodnight." 
An exaggerated kiss noise sounded through her phone, pulling a loud peal of laughter from (Y/N)'s lips. He never really did that when he was around his friends, only putting on the show when he was calling her in private. She thought it was very sweet. 
"Goodnight," she laughed, pressing the red button before she became too spoiled with his shenanigans and tried to keep the call going. 
Setting her phone on her nightstand, she snuggled into her comforter, a throw blanket covering her body instead of her duvet. Pulling her studded bunny from the fringes of her bed, (Y/N) nestled her cheek against the soft fluff. The sown still smelled of Harry's house from the last time she had spent the night, bringing her back to what he was doing in her absence. 
The mystery surrounding his activity of choice for the day is what flicked her curiosity. She'd seen a few movies with marijuana being an uncredited character along with a couple of books with the high feeling being described, but she had never been exposed to anything substantial in real life before she moved away from her parents. Even then, she still hadn't experienced more than the herbal scent that inevitably clung to apartment complexes so close to a university campus and the few bleary eyed classmates she had to work with. 
Specifically, she wondered what Harry was like when he was in that state. Those classmates of hers always seemed disconnected, tired, and in their own head. Was Harry the same way? Did he act the way he did when he drank a little bit too much wine? Or was he wild and excitable like those in the movies? Or sleepy like she had read in her books? 
What would she be like? 
The idea followed her behind her shuttered eyes, her mind going a bit floaty the closer she sunk into sleep. 
—————
"Sarah, have you ever... smoked weed before?" 
The words felt silly falling from (Y/N)'s mouth. Was that even the correct term? She didn't know, but she kept her attention on the food she was making in front of her, hoping Sarah wouldn't notice. 
"Yes," she answered with a suspicious drawl, sweeping through the apartment with a laundry basket on her hip, "Why?" 
(Y/N) only shrugged. "I don't know. I've just been thinking about it." She paused, tipping her head. "What does it feel like?" 
"Smoking?" Sarah pressed. 
"Yeah," (Y/N) chirped, feeling shy that she was even breaching this conversation. "Or, like, being high. Is it like the movies?" 
"A little bit," Sarah mused, folding her laundry on the dining room table into neat piles. "It's not as dramatic or crazy, but it can feel that way sometimes. It depends on the person. Everyone's different." 
Rolling her lips, (Y/N) nodded her head. She chanced a look over her shoulder at her friend, slowing her stirring. "What are you like?" 
Sarah shrugged, a crease between her brows as she thought. "I haven't smoked in a while, but I used to get really tired. It always depended on what kind we had, but I usually got really tired." 
Is that what Harry did? Did he get sleepy, like some of her classmates? Did he nod off during the movie he and Mitch watched the other night? 
"When was the last time?" (Y/N) asked, hoping Sarah didn't cut her off. She was genuinely curious, she hoped she wasn't prodding and poking past her welcome. 
"Maybe a year ago? Could have been longer," Sarah answered. "I was with Mitch so it wasn't too long ago." 
Fixing her attention back on the stirring of the soup she was making for their dinner, she tried to act casual as she spoke. "W-Was Harry there, too?" 
"Harry?" 
(Y/N) could hear the smile in Sarah's voice as she realized where (Y/N)'s curiosity was stemming from. She never tired of teasing just a little over how in love she was with her Harry. (Y/N) only hummed a confirmation, keeping her voice to herself. 
"He wasn't there the last time, but he did used to smoke with us sometimes," Sarah explained, sounding a little too amused as she spoke, "Why?" 
Shrugging, (Y/N) pretended as if she wasn't intrigued at the info Sarah could share. "No reason really. Was it fun? With Harry and Mitch and all?" 
"(Y/N)," Sarah sighed, her voice floating through a smile, "C'mon." 
Stopping her distracting task, she turned to face Sarah who was looking at her with that knowing smile she somehow always had when it came to (Y/N)'s secrets. She was an open book as her friend could tell. 
"What?" (Y/N) feigned nonchalance as if she hadn't already been caught. 
"Did Harry say something? Is that why you're asking about all of this?" Sarah poked, her features set in a gentle tease. 
Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth she canted her head, eyes dropping to where Sarah's hands had stalled her folding. "Not exactly," she started, "He just... I don't know, I called him the other night and he was with Mitch and they had been smoking, he told me. I know he's done it a few times since we started dating, but I've just been thinking about it since then." 
Sarah hummed, nodding her head as she listened. "I get it," she said, "I know he doesn't do it around you or anything, right?" (Y/N) only shook her head. Popping her hip with a furrow appearing in her brow as she cast her mind back in search of answers for (Y/N)'s previous questions. "I wouldn't say it's exactly like the movies," Sarah continued, "But it depends on the person and the strain, and things like that. I usually get pretty tired and hungry, Mitch is like the movies sometimes—loud and everything is funny—, and Harry gets really lovey and lazy. None of us really make much sense, though." 
(Y/N) tried to picture it. Lavender smoke in the air, Harry lazing about with hearts in his eyes, Mitch laughing about nothing, and Sarah passed out in the corner with a pillow under her cheek. A pinch appeared between her brows as she tried to see where she would sit amongst those characters. 
"What do you think I'd be like?" 
Blinking, Sarah brought her gaze to her friend. She pursed her lips as she took in (Y/N). 
"I don't know. It's not the same as being drunk, so I don't know if you'd be as excitable." Sarah contemplated for a moment longer. "I don't really know, honestly. Are you thinking about finding out?" 
She could only shrug. A similar anxiety she felt around alcohol before she broke that barrier still surrounded this, if even a bit heightened given the fact the substance was still very much taboo in her life. There were so many scary, over-exaggerated out there about marijuana, along with the fact that it was still very much taboo in (Y/N)'s life. The use of it seemed to be something that was only done in private and kept as a secret for some people. She was worried that if she found out why, she would regret it. 
Though, there were those puffing thoughts in the back of her mind that begged to differ. It couldn't be that bad. Harry, Mitch, and Sarah were three of her favorite people in the whole world. They weren't devilish burnouts with a one-track lifestyle taking them down the drain, like horror stories and PSA's liked to project. They were good people who sometimes indulged in extra relaxation when they had the chance and the mindset to do so. There was nothing wrong with that. 
"You could ask H, if you wanted. You know he'd answer anything you wanted to know." 
"I know," (Y/N) drawled, unsure despite the fact she knew Sarah was telling the truth. "You don't think he'd be annoyed or anything? I know he keeps it all separate from me for a reason, so I don't want to make him upset." 
Sarah leveled her gentle gaze on (Y/N)'s face. "I think he does it because he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything. It's different than drinking wine with him and things like that, so I bet he just doesn't want to scare you." 
(Y/N) shook her head, "He couldn't scare me, though. He's too nice." 
"To you," Sarah clarified, her smile soft and teasing, "You know he just worries about you and all of that. You wouldn't upset him if you wanted to know more about anything he does."
He did love teaching and showing her things, she knew that. 
"I'll think about it," (Y/N) settled.
"Good," Sarah smiled, grabbing her stacks of folded laundry, "Is dinner ready?" 
"Almost," (Y/N) chirped, adding a little bit of extra seasoning to the pot, "I just need to add the noodles. It'll probably be ready by the time you're done putting everything away." 
Sarah gave a small cheer, stacks of clothing now rehomed in the laundry basket to be returned to her room. "Thank you," she sung, "We should watch that yacht show when we sit down, don't you think?" 
Perking up at the suggestion, (Y/N) quickly nodded her head. "That sounds perfect!" she smiled, mellowing some as she turned her attention to her swirling soup base, "And, thank you for answering everything, by the way. It always helps me." 
"I know, that's why I do it," Sarah settled, reaching out to squeeze (Y/N)'s arm gently before she swept away. 
Left in the silence of the kitchen with only the simmering soup, (Y/N) felt a little bit lighter. Some of her questions were answered even if she had more she wanted to hear from Harry directly. More than anything, she was a little enamored at the idea that Harry was loving and lazy under the influence. She already had a small idea given that she had seen how easy and bubbly he became when he drank, but she'd never seen him really slow down the way she pictured it in her head. 
She wanted to see just how lovey he became, if she was being honest. She already had the privilege of experiencing the affectionate side of him, she wondered just how much higher that volume would be kicked to if he had been smoking. What if he really did have hearts in his eyes?
The thought brought a quiet smile to (Y/N)'s face.
Maybe, she really would have to ask him. 
—————
"What are you thinking for dinner, my love?" 
(Y/N) puckered her lips to reciprocate the small kiss Harry gave her as he traipsed by the couch. Her eyes followed the broad of his back as her made his way towards the kitchen. With her hands folded on the arm of the sofa, she rested her cheek on her forearm, kicking her legs up behind her as she watched him.
"Whatever you want, I'm okay with," she told him, voice soft and easy. 
"Yeah?" he prodded, looking over his shoulder as he washed his hands in the sink, "Even if I didn't feel like making dinner tonight and decided to order sushi instead?" 
"Sushi?" (Y/N) bubbled, "From the new place?" 
Harry nodded, dimples thumbed into his cheeks. "I figured we could try it out tonight, if that was alright." 
"Yes, please," she beamed, her grin only widening when came around to join her in the common area after drying his hands. 
His lip ring bobbled as he matched her smile, using a gentle hand to push a stray strand of hair from her eyes. "Why don't you pull up the website for us while I put my sketches away, and find what y'like. Then we'll order, yeah? 
Despite the long hours he worked at the shop this past weekend, he looked as gorgeous as ever to (Y/N). He lacked eyeliner after wiping it off as soon as he made it home, but his eyes were still the star of the show against his creamy skin. A fresh bee tattoo stood out on the column of his throat, the mosaic wings following the line of his jaw amongst the rose bush filler he had inked across the skin. With the way he stood over her, she got the perfect view of his spiraling curls and the cut planes of his face complete with his glimmering nose stud and lip ring. 
She nodded her head in a lovey daze. "I can do that." 
Amusement flickered in his eyes as he looked down at her. He dipped to her level to press a lingering kiss to the tip of her nose. "Thank you, baby," he murmured, moving away to gather the art supplies he was working with, "I'll be right back." 
Pulling out her phone, (Y/N) searched up the restaurant up while her mind was still on Harry. 
While the questions she had for him were still in the back of her mind, it was too easy to become distracted with him. They weren't apart for a long time by any stretch of the imagination, but even spending a long, four-day weekend away from one another allowed enough fondness to grow between them to keep her mind from wandering very far from what was right in front of her. Besides, Harry barely let her get a word in since she stepped foot in his home, having tugged her to his bedroom with his lips pressed to hers, only breaking for breath. 
She'd ask him at some point, she was sure. If she had the mind to after dinner. 
Browsing through the menu for a few minutes, (Y/N) found the rolls she was interested in, picking things she had a feeling Harry would like and finding other little gems on the website that she would mention in hopes of getting his opinion on. She searched through the site, trying to find an option to order online with no luck, the browser rerouting her to the main page every time she tried to plug into the ordering site. 
"H?" she called, realizing he still hadn't come back from resetting his utensils. 
"Yes?" he answered back, still in the bedroom, "What do y'need, love?" 
Instead of responding, she stood from the couch and moved towards his room, brows knitted and phone screen bright in her hand. "The website isn't working—it won't let me order," she explained, stepping over the threshold to his room. 
Lifting her head, she saw him standing at his dresser, back to the door with his head angled down and hands fiddling across the top of his dresser. He looked over his shoulder at her, his hands slowing. 
"Give me a second, and I'll take a look," he told her, "I'm still cleaning up—forgot I left some things out." 
"Oh?" she sounded, stepping towards him with her phone being slid back into her pocket, "Do you want any help?" 
Growing close enough, she peered around him to see what he was working on. Instead of spotting the graphite and colored pencils she figured she'd find, she instead saw tiny green buds splaying across the wooden surface with a pair of loose pieces of thin paper and a tall black canister. Harry worked quickly to clean up the mess, majority of the green flakes having been scooped up and replaced in the container though he was struggling to wrangle the remains back into their container. 
"'S alright," he murmured, shifting just enough to cut her view of the space, "'M almost done." 
Rolling her lips between her teeth, she rocked on her heels as she stayed put. Before she could think better of her words, they were already spilling from her mouth: 
"Is that weed?" 
She cringed at the sound of her voice wrapping around something so outside of her vocabulary. It sounded better in her head.
Harry's hands slowed, stilling before he looked over his shoulder at her. A sliver of his workspace was once again revealed at the small shifting. 
"What was that?" he pressed, his question seemingly heavy between the two of them. 
She said the wrong thing, didn't she? (Y/N) dropped her gaze from his, settling on the new bumblebee on his neck instead. 
"I ask if that was your... you know," she trailed off, hating the sound of her floundering almost more than just saying the word outright, "That's weed, right?" 
Feeling Harry's gaze trail over her, (Y/N) tried not to squirm. 
"It is, yeah," he muttered, "I didn't realize I left it out. 'M sorry."
Darting her eyes up to match his once more, she tipped her head to the side. "Why are you sorry?"��
Turning away from the dresser entirely, Harry faced her directly. He gave her a small shrug. "I don't like leaving it out when you're here. I meant to clean it up before y'came over, but I forgot." 
"You know I don't mind," she reminded him, "You don't have to be sorry." 
A gentle smile curled his lips, only a single dimple in his cheeks as he looked at her. 
"Thank you, love," he started, "Let me clean up, I'll wash m'hands again, and then I'll—" 
"What does it feel like?" 
(Y/N) could feel her skin simmering in embarrassment as her tumbling question fell from her mouth before she had a chance to police the words. Everything she had been too distracted to ask him came flooding back then, unable to be stopped now that she saw the opportunity. 
"Sorry," she peeped, realizing how abruptly she had cut him off.
He waved her off, "'S alright." He watched her with attentive eyes, catching each of her expressions and minute movements. "What does what feel like?" 
There was no going back now, she figured. 
"Being high," she peeped, "What does it feel like?" 
While he didn't seem to understand where her line of questioning was coming from, or understood her sudden curiosity in his private hobby, he didn't dissect any further. 
Harry rolled his neck, pursing his lips. "It's different for everyone," he started, much the same as Sarah had, "It depends on the kind you smoke, too." 
"But what does it feel like for you?" she rattled off, her words coming quick. Her hands were a busy bundle at her waistline, looking at him with curious eyes. 
A small tug on the corner of his lip had a lopsided smile sparking on his mouth. "It depends, like I said, on what kind, but I usually like it best when m'hands hurt. It helps numb it long enough for the cramping to go away," he mused, "But, other than that, it makes me tired—but not enough to sleep. I jus' want to do nothing but sit and eat. I also get very touchy; lots of cuddling with pillows and whining about not being with you." 
He had to have known that his last comment would get her lips splitting into a sheepish smile, (Y/N) dropping her head to fix her gaze at their feet. It was still a little wild to her that Harry thought about her as often as she did him, even when she wasn't right in front of him.
"You feel like that every time?" 
"Mostly, yeah," he shared, "Sometimes I feel like sketching, or I fall asleep right away. Back when Mitch and I would go out a lot, I used to be really hyper—doing stupid shit because I wasn't afraid of anything. I've definitely calmed down since then." 
"Oh," she sounded. (Y/N) couldn't imagine Harry being reckless, getting himself into trouble that way—but, this was the same man that apparently received his first tattoo at a mechanic's garage by a very amateur artist. He was capable of anything, she guessed. 
"Why do you want to know, love?" he asked, tipping his head with a spiral of his curl falling over his shoulder. 
She attempted to act as nonchalant as possible, giving a shrug of her shoulders despite her lips being rolled between her teeth. "I don't know," she answered, "I've just been thinking about it, I guess." 
"Yeah? Is that all y'wanted to know?" 
While there had to have been hundreds of questions that could come to mind, everything from what he and Sarah meant when they specified reactions were based on the strain or kind of weed that was being consumed, to what skunks vs. dank meant when it came to the herb, she didn't know where to start. Though there was one thing she was wanting to know, beyond just the details of what it would be like to see a clingy, lovey Harry. 
"What do you think I'd be like?" she asked, her words coming out in a rush before she could rethink them.
Harry's gaze was warm on her face as he examined her. Amusement sparked in his eyes. 
"I don't know, but I have a feeling you'd be a little bit like Mitch," he explained, "I think you'd be excited about everything. But, I'd hope you'd be a little like me just because I like the idea of you being clingy and warm, too." 
She liked that idea, too. It was easier this time to add herself to the picture of Harry, Mitch, and Sarah, superimposing herself at Harry's side with her own hearts in her eyes and her hands tangled with his. (They could sneak kisses, too, if she caught the bug of no fear like he used to have).
"Could—Can I—... I think I want to try, if that's alright," she stuttered, unable to find the right words before just letting something roll off her tongue. 
Harry's silence was heavy between them, the lilypad of his irises setting on her. "You want to try smoking?" 
Starting with a soft nod, she tried to find that reckless bubbling that had carried her this far. "I think so, yeah." A beat passed. "If that's alright." 
When he didn't immediately say anything, she chanced a peek up at him to find his eyes fixed on her, gentle and melting as he took her in. He opened his arms for her when he caught her eye, his features softened and warm. "C'mere." 
(Y/N) all but fell into his arms, his chest warm and solid under her cheek. She looped her arms around his middle, her eyes fluttering closed as she relaxed into him. He worked like a shot of lavender incense and chamomile tea for her, the perfect thing to settle her in moments like these. 
His hand spanned over the planes of her back, fingertips massaging the knots of muscle and ladder of her spine. He rubbed over her form in a soothing circuit between her shoulder blades, his opposing hand an anchoring weight on her waist. 
"Y'really want to try it out, love?" he prodded her gently, his voice rumbling under her cheek. 
"I think so," she mumbled, finding it easier to speak now that she was there to hold her instead of watch her.
"When did y'decide that?" 
"The other day, I think," she explained, "After we talked on the phone." 
He hummed, the sound reverberating in her ear. "What made y'think y'wanted to try something like this?" 
Harry always liked to talk her through things like this, she found. It made it easier for him to understand her thought process, he'd said, helping him be honest with her if he worried she was making a choice that might hurt her later. He never lacked patience when it came to guiding her through new experiences. 
"I don't know," she answered honestly, "I just want to know what it's really like. I've only seen a couple of movies and read a few books, but I want to know what it would feel like for me. I don't think it could be so bad if you like it." 
Nosing at her hair, she could feel the smile that had spread across his lips. "'M not always the smartest though, baby. You know that." 
She let out a small laugh at his griping. "I know, but I trust you. If you really don't think it would be good for me, I know you would tell me." 
A pause settled between them. 
"You don't feel like you have to, right? Jus' because 's something I do sometimes, I don't expect you to feel comfortable with it or want to do it with me." 
"I know," she responded, voice resolute, "I just want to try it at least once. If I don't like it or anything like that, I won't do it again." 
After a lingering moment, Harry drew her away from him, peering down at her with a soft gaze. "If you're sure, then we can try it whenever y'want. Jus' let me help you, and I'll be there." 
An impulsive flicker lit through her system. She was on a roll, why stop now? 
"Can we try it tonight?" 
Harry looked at her with widened eyes. "Tonight?" 
(Y/N) nodded her head. "I don't have class until the afternoon tomorrow," she started, a plan coming together, "Do you have to go in early tomorrow?"
His smile was lopsided as he shook his head, likely following where she was going with this. "No, I don't." 
"We could stay up, then," she rattled off, "I could try tonight, and if anything goes wrong we can sleep in a little in the morning." 
Amusement filtered through his gaze. "I didn't know we were having a sleepover," he teased her, dipping his head until his nose nudged against hers, "Y'want to stay the night with me, baby?" 
Her skin hummed as (Y/N) fought the urge to hide herself in his neck. (She acted as if he hadn't been fingers deep in her just a few hours prior, their mouths welded together and her legs around his waist)." 
"Harry," she whined, curling her fists in his t-shirt to keep from pulling away, "I'm trying to be serious." 
"I know," he crooned, tipping his chin to peck a soft kiss to her pouted lips, "And, 'm listening. We can try it out tonight, if y'really want to. But, I think we should eat first, yeah?" 
"Yeah," she repeated, giving a slight nod of her head, "I still need help with the website, though."
"Right," he murmured, pulling away, "Since I don't really need to clean up anymore, let me take a look." 
With that, (Y/N) handed him her phone, telling him about the confusion she felt with the links and the rerouting and all, but her mind was somewhere else. Flicking her gaze around his shoulder, she saw the mess he was leaving out for them to take care of later. The small green buds sparked that familiar kind of nervous excitement that she'd grown accustomed to when it came to new things Harry was planning on teaching her. 
She just hoped she didn't make a fool of herself.
—————
"What did you think, love? Good, right?" 
Taking their dirty utensils—including the pink chopsticks he gifted her for Valentines—Harry spoke over his shoulder as he made his way to the kitchen.
(Y/N) sat pliantly on the couch, tummy full of the variety of sushi rolls they sampled for the night, along with a new favorite miso soup that she was surely going to be craving as the week went on. "So good. I think my favorite is still the spicy salmon one with that seaweed salad on top." 
Harry laughed from where he stood, surely remembering the way she had practically taken that roll for herself, hoarding the pieces to allow only one bite for him. "I really liked that one, too. We'll have to go back again soon, yeah?" 
"Yes, please," she chirped, looking over the back of the couch as he made his return. 
While the food was a delicious distraction for the night, (Y/N) had still marinated in the idea of what would be coming once she finished and they were settling for the night. The mess he'd left on his dresser was waiting for them, loose papers and all. 
"Ready?" he asked, coming to stand at the end of the sofa.
Was she? She wasn't sure, honestly. But that uncertainty was outweighed by the curiosity and bubbly jitters she had since Harry had agreed to help her. 
Before she had a chance to answer and take his hand, Harry spoke up again, "Jus' to get ready for bed first, baby." 
"Oh," she sounded, nothing more intelligent coming to mind at the moment, "Um, yeah. Then we'll...?" 
He cracked a smile at her hesitancy to name the activity that she had brought up. "Yes, we'll do that afterwards. You'll probably feel more comfortable in some pajamas and your face clean." 
Though she felt a bit silly at the way she had built up a moment that hadn't quite arrived yet, she understood his logic. Besides, if she turned out to be like Sarah, she wouldn't beat herself up in the morning if she did all of her skincare now, and not when she was already inches from sleep.
Taking Harry's hand, she followed after him as he led her to his bedroom, a small duffle bag of hers that stayed here was already sitting by the bathroom door. A change of clothes, and minis of her most essential skincare needs were packed away inside, making it easy for her to spend the night impulsively when she wanted to. 
(Just then, the reminder that she wouldn't be confined to a single bag when they moved in together made her more giddy than before. Soon, she'd be sharing a whole closet with him, a bathroom, and a home. She couldn't wait).
(Y/N) went through the motions of getting unready with Harry standing behind her in the mirror. More often than not, as she brushed her teeth or patted a balm into her skin, her eyes wandered to his reflection. Once or twice, when she was caught, he gave her a sly smile with glimmering eyes. But, when he didn't catch her, his attention on his own task, she was left to allow her mind to gill with imagination. 
She was reminded as she ran her eyes along the cut of his jaw, the plants of his features, and the high points in-between, that he would be stepping behind the lavender veil with her. His previous conversation with her had only revolved around her and what she wanted out of this experience, straying her mind away from the fact that he was going to be a part of the package. 
What would he look like with smoke pluming from his mouth? Would his lilypad eyes go glazed and red? She wondered if his hands would feel any different gliding over her skin, if his lips would still feel as pillowy against hers. 
The thought had her cheeks warming, a sheepish smile forming around the toothbrush between her lips. 
Harry finished before her, stepping out of the bathroom to give her privacy to change into her pajamas. "I'll wait for you out here," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of her head. 
Closing the door behind himself, she was left alone with the chilled tile under her socked feet. Glancing at the mirror, (Y/N) found herself fresh-faced with wide eyes and a slight swell to her lips from the amount of times she rolled them between her teeth. Blinking, she wondered if she would look any different to Harry after she pulled the smoke into her lungs. 
It was with rushed hands that she dressed into her sleep clothes (really nothing more than a pair of tiny shorts she would inevitably kick off in the night, and a shirt she had stolen so long ago from Harry that it was hers now), almost slipping her top on backwards before she righted herself in the mirror. Stepping out of the washroom with her laundry being dropped atop her duffle for later, (Y/N) saw Harry once again at his dresser.
This time, he looked to her with an easy smile, his hands working over the surface before him.
"Better?" he smiled, lip ring bobbing. 
"Mhm," she hummed, moving towards him in slow strides, "What are you doing?" 
Turning back to face his hands, he told her, "Jus' getting our things ready. Do you want to watch?" 
A pinch creased her brows as she went towards him. Peering around his shoulder, she saw him working with one of the loose papers from before and a small pile of crushed up greenery. 
"What do you have to do?" (Y/N) only had a vague idea of what all went into preparing for a session like this. 
Smiling down at her, his ministrations slowed now that her attention was placed on his hands. He sidestepped just enough to allow her an unobstructed view of his work. "I figured we'd stick with a joint this first time, so I've got to roll one up for us to use." 
Looking at it now, while she didn't have much knowledge of any of this, she could see familiar pieces forming. The paper would be rolled and twisted with the bud inside, Harry flickering a lighter at the end like a cigarette when it was ready.
"How do you do that?" she muttered, stepping that much closer, feeling as if she were a child pressing their nose against the glass separating them from gallons of ice cream. 
A huffed laugh fell from his lips then. Lifting his arm up, he beckoned her to stand between his chest and the dresser. "C'mere." 
Slipping into the small space he freed for her, the heat of his chest could be felt against her back. Though she caught whiffs of it before, now the herby, earthy smell of the bud was right at her nose, wafting through the air and clinging to her skin. Right in front of her, Harry worked around her, his fingers deftly working through his supplies. 
"First," he started, "You've got to keep the paper flat out and put one of the filters at the end." She watched as he pulled a tiny white piece from the canister, setting it at the middle of one of the short ends of the paper. He kept it stable when he reached for the ground up weed that he had piled in the lid to the container, a small mound he pinched at before sprinkling the chunks in a line across the paper. "We've got to fill it up enough so there's not any air bubbles between," he explained as he worked, his arms hovering above her shoulders as he created their joint with the ease of experience. "This part’s always a little hard for me," he told her, to her surprise. 
"What do you mean?" He could have fooled her.
"'S hard to pack it in like this," he elaborated, his voice dull as he concentrated, "M'fingers are too big, so I've got to be extra careful that I don't mess it up." 
Honing her gaze in on his digits, she had to keep herself from tipping her head to the side and falling victim to the sight. She could see it then, she figured, watching as he tried to pat everything as tightly and precisely as possible. His fingers definitely were too big. 
"Oh," she sounded. 
A breathy laugh came from behind her, the exhale twisting through the hair on the top of her head. "Would y'do something for me, love?" he asked, finally packing enough in as tightly as he could before he started folding the ends of the thin paper. 
She gave a nod, now too transfixed on his hands to speak with an even tone. 
"Would you give this a lick for me?" he asked, "We've gotta seal it up before I can twist it all up." 
"Like, the paper?" she clarified, eyeing the open flap he was presenting to her with the joint grasped carefully between his fingers. 
Harry hummed a confirmation. "There's glue on this edge like an envelope. Gotta make it sticky, then I can close it up for us."
"Um, okay," she muttered, placing a steadying hand on his wrist as he brought the almost-joint to her lips. 
Parting her mouth, she swiped the tip of her tongue along the very edge of the paper. It didn't taste quite as artificially sweet as a regular envelope, but then again, everything was coated in that dusky scent that the herb folded inside held. 
"Thank you, baby," he told her, pulling the joint from her lips as he did the closing motion of sealing the edge to the roll. She watched as he did the final step, twisting down the free edge into a tight swirl before he presented it with the filtered end between his fingertips. "All done." 
In front of (Y/N) was the stereotypical joint that she had seen in the few films that showed as much. The paper was translucent in the way that she could clearly see it was filled from the inside with dark, green flakes. The filtered edge was tapered down into a small funnel, leaving the head of the roll trumpeting out, thick with the ground up weed. 
"That was fast," (Y/N) muttered, wanting to reach out and touch, but too scared. 
"I've gotten pretty good, I can't lie," he joked with her, pressing his lips to the back of her head. A paused settled again before he spoke to her, his head still dipped down as he murmured, "Y'still feeling alright, darling? Still want to, or do y'want to go to bed and watch a movie instead?" 
Examining the joint in front of her, the thick scent of the weed surrounding her with the heat of Harry's chest at her back, she nodded her head. "I still want to." 
Dropping an arm to wrap around her waist from behind, Harry hugged her to him for a moment. "Grab a jacket then, and we'll go out back for a second, yeah?" 
"Outside?" she asked, turning in his hold. 
"Don't want it stinking up the house, right?" He looked at her with a raised brow, already stepping towards the closet in search of his own coat. "We'll be fast, baby, 's alright." 
(Y/N) supposed he was onto something, realizing that she had never been struck by the heavy scent like she would figure if he had smoked in his bedroom. As long as no one complained, it wasn't a bad idea to head outback for a second. It would be nice to take in deep breaths in between the smoke too, she figured. 
With a set of slippers on her feet, and a thick hoodie on her body, she followed Harry out the back door, ending on the back patio. He sat on the stoop at her feet, patting the space next to him. 
"Warm enough?" he asked, moonlight waning above their heads. 
Snuggling closer to his side, she nodded her head. "I'm alright, thank you. Are you warm?" 
Despite the unzipped jacket on his form and the thin t-shirt underneath, Harry gave her a small smile. "'M good, baby." 
Flicking out a lighter and the joint from his pocket, he sparked the flame with a flick of his fingers. 
He ran the spark over the trumpeted tip of the joint, his face warming in the firelight glow. "We'll take it easy tonight, yeah?" he murmured, concentration on his hands, "I don't think it'll take much to get y'there, so we probably won't finish this but we'll save the rest for another time if you want." 
She watched as he rotated the edge of the joint over the flame, evenly burning the tip. "Are you not going to have any?" 
"I will," he assured her, "But, I want to make sure I can take care of you. I won't be having too much." 
Having a deja vu moment, (Y/N) was reminded of how it felt to be sitting in his lap as he fed her wine, keeping his own head clear while he let her run wild. 
With the end of the joint glowing a warm orange, Harry put the lighter away. He ashed the very tip away, revealing cool lavender smoke twisting through the air with a heady scent clinging to the particles. 
"Want the first go?" he asked, tipping the roll towards her in an offer. 
"No, no," she answered immediately, "You first." 
His smile was lopsided as he agreed, pulling the joint to his mouth. She watched as he tucked the filtered end between his lips, taking in a shallow inhale with the fiery end glowing to life. His chest expanded as he inhaled. He only pulled the roll away from his lips when his chest was puffed with smoke, a lingering second passing before he exhaled, plumes of dancing smoke drifting through the air. The heavy, thick aroma of the weed surrounded them. 
(Y/N) couldn't pull her eyes from him as the smoke seeped from between his lips, a thin, violet filter hazing his features. The moon above seemed to catch each particle, drowning the scene in cool toned shades, muted and closed. 
She waited for something to change in the way he looked, the way he acted. When the only thing he did was turn to her with a blink, once again offering the joint to her for a try, she wasn't sure what she had expected. 
"Do y'think y'can do that?" 
Her brows creased. "Do what?" 
Amusement molded his features as he tipped his chin towards his offering. "Taking a hit," he stated, "Inhaling, and everything." 
"I-I think so," she answered, carefully pulling the roll from his fingers. She hesitated before taking it to her lips, nervous to replicate his actions while he watched. "Do you feel any different?" 
His smile was warm as he shook his head. "No—probably won't be too different tonight. I've built my tolerance pretty high, so I'll be fine." 
"Oh," she sounded, feeling the slightest bit disappointed knowing that she wouldn't get the full experience of seeing him for what he was under the influence. Maybe sometime she could convince him to let it go. Focusing back on the joint, she stared intensely at the thin ribbon of smoke falling from the tip. "How do I inhale?" 
"Jus' breathe in, baby," Harry laughed, throwing an arm across her shoulders. He tucked her against his side, warming her through her layers. "Only take a little bit at a time, though. And, if y'need to cough, jus' let it happen. You'll be alright." 
Though it was only a few tiny rules, it felt like so much to remember, to keep track of while she was trying something so foreign.
"Wh-What if I take too much?" she muttered, worrying now the longer that she let it keep burning. She hoped she wasn't wasting everything he'd done for her. 
Harry paused, rolling her question around his head before answering. "You'll be alright," he assured her, "Jus' don't want you to take too much, or anything, that's all." 
The idea of taking too much scared her more than the other rules. She didn't know what too much was; how would she know if there was too much in her lungs, how would she know if she needed to pull back? 
"Can you help me?" she murmured, worry lacing through her tone. 
"I can hold it for you if you want?" he offered, though his option didn't seem so concrete as she had hoped. 
"You can't do more?" 
A small silence sat between them when he didn't answer right away. She looked to him, finding him looking at the joint between her fingers with a contemplative crease between his brows. 
"I might have an idea that we can try," he started, flicking his gaze to match hers. "Y'trust me, right?" 
Her nod was immediate. 
A small smile folded his lips as he took the joint from her hand. He brought the roll to his lips, taking in another deep inhale with his eyes fluttering as his chest expanded. The cherry brightened as he pulled in the smoke. As soon as he pulled it away from his mouth, he spoke to her in a muddled voice, a small streak of smoke escaping through his nose. 
"C'mere." 
(Y/N)'s eyes rounded out in confusion. She was already right here, right?
The arm Harry had thrown across her shoulders slithered around her form until his palm came to a cradle on her cheek. He pressed forward then, his lips parting just enough for (Y/N) to get the hint. 
He wanted to kiss her.
Fluttering her eyelids to a close, she leaned forward in an attempt to meet him halfway. Harry, with his hand on her cheek, stopped her short, a small distance left between them. 
With her eyes opening to slits, she found him looking to her with his own gaze trained on her lips. His tender hand on her cheek shifted until his thumb was resting in the full of her bottom lip. Tugging just slightly, he parted her pout into a small gape. Harry ripped his head, leaning just that much closer with his pursed lips. 
(Y/N) held her breath, her own mouth parted open as she felt soft plumes of smoke fan over her lips. His lips just barely grazed her own, pressing against the soft pillows as the smoke ghosted over her tongue, heady and thick.
Pulling away just enough with smoke still twirling around his features, he told her, "Breathe in, baby." 
His voice was still heavy in his throat, emulating the way he spoke in the morning. The detail gave (Y/N) something to focus on as she instinctually closed her mouth as if biting down, the smoke now contained to a thin veil between them. He kept his hand steady on her cheek as she inhaled the way she saw him do, her chest bloating as she filled her lungs with the gifted smoke. 
While she didn't feel the burning in her chest that she thought would accompany the smoke, she instead felt a thick heat in the back of her throat. She tried to mimic what she had seen Harry do, keeping the smoke in her lungs for a moment before exhaling, but she couldn't keep up when she felt her eyes begin to water. 
Unable to handle it much longer, (Y/N) released her breath in clumsy pants, embarrassed to be reacting so intensely right in Harry's face. Though, all he did was stay steady in his spot by her, thumbing at her chin and coaxing her through it. 
Tipping her head down, she finally coughed into her sleeve, eyes watering as she went with his hand falling to the slope of her neck. 
"'S alright, baby, jus' let it out," he murmured, his voice a gentle soothe, "You'll feel better in a second, love." 
By the time she regained her breath, there was a slight glaze over the back of her throat—not quite a tingle, but not entirely normal. Harry tipped his head down by then, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth with his palm spanning the shelf of her collarbones. 
"Y'alright?" he murmured, ever patient when he pulled away to match her eyes. 
Nodding her head, (Y/N) swallowed around her odd throat. "Was that alright?" she croaked, wet bottom lashes grazing the height of her cheekbone.
A fond smile molded Harry's features into soft curves. "Y'did jus' fine, lovebug. So proud of you for not getting scared," he praised her, thumb running over her warm skin, "Feels a little weird doesn't it?" 
(Y/N) didn't have to think before she nodded her head, watching as he ashed the joint they had probably let burn for just a touch too long. "Really weird," she told him earnestly, "My throat feels funny, but that's all so far."  
"Yeah? Want to keep going?" His eyes skated over her features, taking in every reaction, every minute stretch of her muscles. 
While she was sure there was something that would hit soon, she still felt comfortable enough to take a little more from him. (Y/N) answered with a small nod. 
"Same way we did before?"
Remembering the feel of his lips glancing across hers, the faint brush of the tip of his nose over hers, she could feel her skin simmering. "Yeah," she answered, hoping he thought the breathy quality of her voice was a lingering side effect of her coughing. 
He didn't look entirely fooled when that sly smile touched his lips. "Alright," he said, bringing the joint back up to his lips, "We'll do a couple more, then I think you're done, baby. That alright?" 
"That's alright," she murmured, "Thank you." 
This time, watching him taking in the long drag, (Y/N) knew what to expect when he turned to her. She allowed him to hover close enough that he was almost kissing her as he blew out another plume of smoke for her to inhale. When she took her time filling her lungs with the smoke, Harry tipped his head and smeared his lips over her cheek, kissing down her neck. 
She had more confidence this go around, coaxing herself through as Harry held her. That thick feeling in the back of her throat intensified as she closed her eyes, her chest expanding under her borrowed hoodie. 
"Doing good, baby," he murmured into her ear, pulling away to match her gaze, "Go ahead and breathe out, love. I think you're good." 
Following his direction, the lavender smoke twirled between them. Sucking in clean air, she filtered out her lungs. This time around, opening up her eyes to look up at the moonlight and the stars blinking over the inky canvas, things felt different. There was a bit of lethargy to her movements, even in the darting of her gaze. Her limbs felt as if there was extra weight attached, something heavy that slowed her before she even had a chance to move.
It was an odd feeling, something that she'd never experienced before or had anything of comparison to, but it wasn't unpleasant. She'd even say she liked it so far.
Harry seemed to pick up on the fact that she was edging into new territory as he watched over her, eyes sparking from amusement. "One more?" 
"Yeah," she settled, her lips feeling looser the more she sunk into the moment, "One more." 
"Wanna try by yourself?" he asked, taking his own small puff from the joint before he was angling it towards her. 
"Not by myself, no," she argued, still scared to be in charge of her own dosing. 
"I can hold it for you if y'want—take it back when you've had enough," Harry offered, letting a cloud leave his lips as he spoke. 
"Okay," she nodded, taking on his offer. 
"Open," he instructed, setting the filter of the joint between her lips, "Then jus' suck in, okay? You'll be able to feel it in the back of your throat, so stop if you've had enough and I haven't taken it back yet." 
(Y/N) wrapped her lips around the filter, taking in Harry's directions with absent ears. She couldn't imagine he wouldn't be able to catch herself and her intake before he did. 
Emulating what she'd seen from him before, she sucked in, her cheeks hollowing just enough to show off the shape of her cheekbones. The back of her throat warmed, embers igniting in a low burn. This was more than what Harry had given her before, but she didn't mind. This would be just enough,she figured.
At the perfect moment, Harry pulled away prompting her to breathe out the final cloud of smoke. He asked the joint once more, a small pile of grey dust having collected at their feet. 
A few huffed coughs fell from (Y/N)'s lips, unused to the feeling of gathering the smoke directly from the source. Harry wrapped his arm around her, tucking her into his side as she eased through the final intake. 
"How do you feel?" he asked her, voice low under the moonlight. 
Looking around, (Y/N) tried to find the answer to the question. 
It was an odd feeling, she decided. She felt both light and heavy at the same time, her head in the clouds with her body entirely anchored to the ground. Prickles poked at her skin, her limbs their own entity as she brought her hands into a bundle in her lap. 
There was no other way to describe it other than the fact that she felt high. 
"Good," she answered simply, "Different." 
"You'll get used to it, my love," he murmured into her ear, pressing a soft kiss to the space just before. 
"Do you feel different?" she asked, her voice heavy in her dry throat. 
"A little," Harry explained, stubbing out the cherry of the joint, "But, I think 's time we get inside before either of us freezes, don't you think?" 
"Yeah, yes."
It was when Harry let out a small huffed laugh that (Y/N) couldn't contain her own laughter. A loud peal fell from her lips. She wasn't even sure why she was laughing. That only made her laugh harder.
—————
"That is so funny," (Y/N) giggled to herself, clenching her hands in the fabric of her top lest she forget they were there. "Harry, did you see that?! It was funny!" 
He was back in the kitchen, working over the stove with a pot of noodles boiling away and a cheesey sauce working on the other burner, leaving (Y/N) to watch this movie all on her own. 
"Which part, baby?" he asked, his rumbling voice sounding farther away than she remembered. 
(Y/N) blinked, watching the brightly colored animated characters go across the television screen. "The one that was just on! With the cat on the piano!" 
How could he not have been paying attention? (Y/N) had never seen something so entertaining before, if she was being honest. This had to be her new favorite movie—she just needed to remember what it was called. 
"Oh," he sounded, "I did see that, sorry, lovebug. It was very funny." 
"Good," she responded absently, craning her neck to look over the back of the couch towards where he stood in the kitchen, "I'm so hungry, H." 
"I know," he laughed, looking at her with his skin seemingly glowing and the smile of a prince. "'M almost done, okay?" 
"How close is ‘almost’?" 
His smile only widened at her line of questioning. (Y/N) mimicked that look without a thought. 
"About five minutes. Can you wait that long?" 
"I'll try." She couldn't help the pout that took her features. She had told him she was hungry what felt like hours ago, and she still was waiting for food. He wouldn't even let her help either, but she could argue that she would have eaten already if he just let her follow him to the kitchen.
Raising his brows, Harry fixed his attention back on the television screen. "Oh, look. The little cat is back, baby." 
(Y/N)'s attention took a one-eighty as she did the same to face the TV once more. Harry was right, the kitten was back on screen. She didn't want to miss this. 
The high had hit her at full force only minutes after Harry had taken her inside, setting off a firing squad of so many different feelings (Y/N) had never experienced before. She had so much energy, but at the same time she wanted to sleep. She wanted to kiss and hold her boyfriend, but also had to make a point to remember where her limbs were. She wanted to eat and drink as much water as she could, but couldn't find the attention to do either of those things. In the back of her mind, she even debated on writing some for the course paper she needed to work on before the midterm exam next month—her mind swirling with ideas, but they were all out of order. 
How she decided on watching a movie instead of any of her other raucous ideas, she wasn't sure, but she was happy with the choice. This way, she was able to wrap up in the soft pink throw blanket that she left in his bedroom, sink into the new feeling, and make out with Harry when he was done cooking.
(It had really been Harry's prompting and prodding that led her to the conclusion that yes, she wanted to watch a movie and cuddle up with him while she ate, but he was happy with letting her assume it had been her own choice).
Time moved in mysterious ways since the high had hit, making it hard to decipher if it had been five hours or mere five minutes before Harry came to her with bowls of pasta and a buttery warm sauce poured over top. 
"That looks so good, H," she bubbled, overjoyed at the sight of food, "Thank you so much!" 
"You're welcome, baby," he smiled, "Do you need more water?" 
"No, just—Hold on." (Y/N) stumbled over her words, organizing her thoughts as steadily as she could and ultimately failing in favor of reaching towards Harry.
The second he settled into the cushion at her side, she had his jaw cradled in her palms, lips puckered and pressed against the corner of his mouth. A laugh bubbled through his lips, his smile felt under her kiss. 
"I missed," she laughed along with him, pulling away to watch his eyes light up and creases form around his smile, "Sorry." 
"'S alright," he beamed, cheeks still cradled in her palms, "Jus' slow down and try again." 
Though she didn't exactly have the wherewithal to follow his directions, she definitely tried her best. This time, she felt as if she went slower as she leaned in, pressing her lips to Harry's. He reciprocated her affection in soft kisses, (Y/N) melting the longer she reveled in his touch.
Her skin practically sang everywhere he touched her, taking her back to her wonderings of if there would be something extra to their affection while under the influence. That prickling that she had felt in her limbs just when the smoke started taking effect, now only occurred when he ran his fingertips over her skin or held her hand in his. The buzzing made her smile into the kiss, the pinpoint tickling under her skin.
"What's got you so smiley, hm?" Harry asked against her mouth, pulling away despite the tender hold she had on his cheeks. 
She beamed up at him with an easy grin, a rose colored glaze over her vision of him. "I just like touching you," she told him, "It tickles." 
He raised his brows in reaction, biting back a smile. "It tickles?" 
Watching the clear amusement on his face, (Y/N) couldn't help her own smile from turning into bubbling laughter. "Uh-huh," she barely answered, everything else dissolving around her laughter. 
"Now, why are you laughing?" 
Harry's investigation only proved to make the entire moment funnier to (Y/N) as she doubled over. Snuggling into his chest, she clung to him with her laughter muffled against his shoulder. "I don't know," she giggled, barely sure that the words even left her brain. 
"Oh, lovebug," he crooned, wrapping his arms around her, "What am I going to do with you?" 
A contented smile landed on (Y/N)'s features as she settled down. She burrowed against him, smushing her cheek on his shoulder and bundling her arms between their bodies. "Love me." 
The tip of Harry's nose skimmed the top of her head. "I already do that," he told her, words fanning across the strands of hair crowning her. 
"I love you too," (Y/N) answered simply. 
The cryptic sense of time she held struck once again when Harry drew away from her. Her body had relaxed into his as if she had napped on him for hours, but she could have been nestled in his arms for a max of three minutes for all she knew. 
"Are y'still hungry? Or do y'want me to save your noodles for later?" 
With that, (Y/N) swore her mind had been blown. "You brought me food, I totally forgot!" Twirling too fast for her brain to keep up, she was almost dizzy by the time she saw the bowl of pasta Harry had set in front of her, complete with salty cheese layered on top just like she asked. "That looks so good, H! Thank you." 
Harry gave her a small smile. "You're welcome, baby." 
A minute sense of deja vu niggled in the back of her head for just a second, but (Y/N) chose to ignore it in favor of twirling her fork through the spaghetti noodles.  
Had cheese always tasted this good? 
—————
"Harry, are you listening? This song is beautiful." 
"I know, love. 'S perfect, huh?" 
The drawl of Harry's response had (Y/N) peeking up at him. She found him lying with his eyes closed, mouth parted in a small gape, though his hand on her back never slowed the soothing circle he had curated.
"Are you tired?" (Y/N) whispered. 
A slight smile touched the corner of his mouth at her question. "A little. Are you?" 
(Y/N) paused, evaluating herself to give him an honest answer. "Yeah. A little." His heartbeat was set to a soothing pace under her ear, slowing into a steady rhythm as if urging him to sleep. "Are you almost asleep?" 
Though she could see his eyes were closed and his breathing was coming in soft puffs, Harry didn't slack on the duties he had taken on for the night. Since pulling her to bed and setting a playlist to softly sing through his bedroom, he had kept his cuddling hold on her firm and anchoring. He answered her every time she spoke to him and even crawled his way to the bedside table to skip the song whenever she started to whine over the melody. 
"A little," he smiled, his voice a deep rumble, "Are you?"
Another pause. "Maybe," (Y/N) answered honestly. She could fall asleep right now if she wanted, but she also wanted to keep listening to music. 
Harry hummed, his chest vibrating under her cheek. "Is there anything y'want before y'get sleepy? More water or a snack?" 
What did she need before she could peacefully fall asleep? 
Blinking her gaze up at him, she took in the tip of his nose, the curving pillow of his cupid's bow and the creamy texture of his skin. 
"A kiss? Please?" 
At that, Harry cracked his eyes open to peer down at her. "Y'haven't had enough of those yet?" 
"Never," she answered, completely honest. Harry still plucked a smile onto his lips at her response. 
"Can't blame you, darling—me neither." 
Shifting between the sheets, Harry used his free hand to cup (Y/N) cheek and tip her chin as he dipped down. He sealed his lips over hers in a loving kiss, nothing more than a soft pressing of their lips. She swore she could feel every ridge, every dip, every plane of his touch, catalogued to her memory though she hoped she would recall it in less fuzzy detail. 
"Love you," she murmured between breaths, immediately planting her lips across his once more. 
Harry smiled into the contact. He broke the rhythm of her kisses even further when he drew away, ignoring the way she chased after him with a craned neck and puckered lips.
"I love you too, lovebug." His eyes scanned over her features not for the first time that night, though something softened in his gaze. "You had a good time tonight?"
Walking through the lavender veiled events, everything was just a bit hazy and herbal, (Y/N)'s smile only grew. 
"Uh-huh," she beamed up at him, feeling herself settle into him that much more, "Thank you for showing me." 
Thumbing at the height of her cheekbone, Harry surged forward to press a delicate kiss to the bridge of her nose. "'M happy y'feel good, darling. That's all I want when we try new things." 
"I'm always happy when I'm with you." 
(Y/N) blinked as she saw his face light up with a bubbly smile, creases appearing by his eyes, dimples thumbed into his cheeks, and a slight flush over his nose. 
Had his smile always been that pretty?
—————
eeeek! so happy I could get a new aster blurb out for everyone this year! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and lmk if yu have any ideas for anything you'd like to see!
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ghosts-bandwagon · 1 year
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could you do hc’s for the 141 + könig with a reader who has iron deficiency anemia? like maybe readers iron drops to a low level and they nearly faint and they take care of them after?
Ooh! I can relate! Except I haven’t fainted but I’ve definitely gotten close lmao whoops
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:
My man has both eyes on you at all times, especially if you’ve told him you woke up with a headache that morning
He’s watching you to make sure you’re taking care of yourself but when advil doesn’t touch your headache, he starts to worry
I personally headcanon him as being hands off but always close, so he won’t be fretting about you, he gives you the space and the chance to decide when you need help
But when you start walking a little lopsided, with a hand against the wall for support, he’s sprinting towards you, his heart is hammering in his chest as he catches you before you lean a little too far off to the side
“Alright, back to bed with you.”
“Si, I’m fine.”
“I look like I’m muckin’ about? Bed. Now.”
It’s one of the few times he’ll assert himself when it comes to your well-being, not his fault you gave him a fright, darling!
Soon enough, he’s back at your side with a sandwich and some juice, he’s not sure what happened but some food is a good place to start, he crawls in bed next to you as your eating and turns on the tv to whatever you’re feeling (he’s particularly fond of Bake Off, so he won’t be opposed if that’s what you choose)
John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:
When you woke up that morning massaging your temples, he was a little worried but he shooed your hands away and started massaging your temples and your scalp instead, kissing the side of your head
It seemed to help a little bit but it wasn’t enough to chase the thrumming pain away, still it wasn’t that bad so you decided to go about your day regardless
That wouldn’t stop him from checking up on you every chance he had, he’d laugh when you elbow him and jokingly tell him to back off, he’d pull you against him and kiss the crown of your head
“Not on your life, bonnie.”
But then he saw you tumble to the side a little bit, arm reaching out to balance yourself and he was at your side in a heartbeat, steadying you by wrapping his arm around your shoulders and holding you against him,
“Alright, hen?”
“Yeah just a little dizzy that’s all.”
“More than just a little I’d say. Come on, let’s get you in bed and I’ll get you some food, aye?”
“But it’ll mess up the bed.”
“Then don’t be messy.” He winked and kissed the side of your head, you shoved him playfully before clinging to him again. Sure enough, you’re back in bed with Soap, half eaten sandwich on the nightstand, both of you back asleep with the tv lulling you even deeper.
John Price:
Sweet man doesn’t let you leave the bed for anything as soon as you tell him you have a headache
“Don’t bother liftin’ a finger, darlin’. Shout if you need anything.” He kisses your forehead and leaves a glass of water, a cup of tea, and some headache medicine, he’s in the other room if you need anything
At some point, you get bored and decide to do some chores you’ve been putting off for a while, so you’re folding laundry when John walks back in the room
“What’re you doin’, thought I told you to shout.”
“I’m not gonna shout at you put away the laundry, especially when I’m the one that started it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, you know I love it when you shout.” He teased, you threw the tshirt in your hands at him with a laugh and a blush, he caught it with ease and started to move to put it away
He saw you take an unsteady step back with an arm outreached to balance you out, in two long strides he was at your side, gripping your arm to steady you
“Right. Enough of that, back you go.”
“John-”
“Don’t you ‘John’ me, back in.” He’s guiding you back in bed and coming back in the room with some fruits and a sandwich, he’s not leaving your side until you’ve eaten all of it. And when you’re done, he kisses your forehead and crawls in bed with you. Nothing wrong with a lazy day.
Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:
He’s so extra omg as soon as you tell him you’ve got a headache, he’s wrapping you in your favorite blanket, brewing a cup of your favorite tea, he’s got you sitting on the couch, buried in blankets, and he’s got Uber Eats pulled up and ready for you to order
“Babe it’s just a headache, I’m not dying.”
“Irrelevant. Just order something, yeah? My treat.” He winked at you. You share a checking account. He loves making that joke. (So do I)
He walks away and comes back with your tea and some medicine, “No love of mine is going to have a headache and not be spoiled.”
On your way back from the bathroom, you start the feel the walls spin and the floor slip away from you. You called out to him and he was there in a heartbeat, he gently and slowly picked you up and carried you back to the couch
“Aren’t you glad you’ve got me here for you?”
“Don’t get an ego, just shut up and keep taking care of me.”
“That’s what I thought.”
He kissed your cheek with a big wet smooch and went to grab the door for your order, he settled next to you on the sofa and started laying out the food for you.
König:
Much like Ghost, he lets you get up and be about on your own but he hovers much closer
He gets you some medicine and some water, and he brings you those fruit gummies you love so much too
He’s ok with you moving about but he’s always close by, and by close I mean he’s attached at the hip (just bump him away with your hip and he’ll laugh enough to let you be for a little bit)
In one of those moments you managed to successfully bump him away from you, your dizziness seemed to hit. You nearly dropped the dishes in your hands as you took a few steps to the side, König was there in seconds to get you steady again
He took the dishes from your hands and gently put them in the sink,
“Come now, schatz, rest, please.”
“Köni, I’m fine, I promise.”
“Nonsense. Bed. Now.”
He never used that tone with you (ok maybe sometimes but this isn’t that context), so you supposed you wouldn’t fight him on it. Not that you could but you appreciated that he gave you the option.
So he carried you to bed, your gentle, sweet, mountain of a man, and set you down, burying you in blankets. He crawled beside you and started running his fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp, peppering kisses on your cheeks.
Before you knew it, you’ve dozed off in his arms and he’s kissing the crown of your head.
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voxsremotec0ck · 2 months
Text
𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐀 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞.ᐟ
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⋆。゚When you get a splitting headache, they’re there to take care of you ゚。⋆
— Stolas, Verosika, Blitzø, Vox
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Stolas freaks out and tells his servants to get every migraine relief medication in the mansion and some water. He asks Octavia to be as quiet as possible and turns all the lights off. He’ll lay with you in bed until you start to feel better, cuddling you against his chest and cooing softly to help you relax. He just wants you to feel better.
Verosika asks if you want her to go down on you to help make you feel better. She knows all too well how pleasure can help with pain. If you decline though, she’ll get you some pain meds and leave you be. Hopefully you’ll start feeling better after a nap in a quiet room.
Blitzø says he’ll get you something for the pain, and then comes back with an assortment of hard drugs for you to choose from. He’ll even recommend his favorite for headaches. If when you decline and take regular headache medicine, he’ll call you a pussy but still hand you a bottle of water to take them. He’ll even give you the day off if it’s really bad.
Vox would never tell you this, but he always feels a little guilty whenever you get a headache. Looking at his screen all day probably makes them more frequent and he hates that. He’ll have his assistant bring you meds and water, and he’ll try to stay away from you until you’re feeling better. Even then he might still give you space, worried about it coming back.
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As someone with chronic headaches I needed to write this
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 1 month
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The Ranger (Part 1)
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Summary: The reader is trying to enjoy her vacation in the rainy forest in her cozy cabin when an unexpected heat comes on. But things turn dangerous fast and she needs the help of a local forest ranger to get out of it. But she wasn't expecting his help to include claiming her and being her true mate. Because something isn't right and her Alpha is keeping something from her...
Masterlist
Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader
Word Count: 5,300ish
Warnings: language, life threatening medical situation, angst
A/N: Please enjoy this first part!
_______
This was not an ideal situation. You’d finally done it and taken that solo vacation in the mountains. A cozy cabin in a retreat from the world. The trees had turned already and were bare but the damp, cloudy rainy day would have been perfect to curl up by the wood fireplace and get through that stack of books you’d been meaning to.
Except your heat, your heat that’d always been on schedule since you’d started having them, was three fucking weeks early. You didn’t have any medicine besides a few pain killers meant for headaches, not dangerous cramps, and the cabin only had basics meant for allergies or a cold. You needed heat suppressants soon if you didn’t want to go into a full heat. 
Which again, wasn’t an ideal situation since you didn’t have a flippin’ mate.
You could have tried to trek back to civilization through the winding dirt road but it’d taken two hours on the way in. Two hours of intense cramps? No way were you making that drive.
“Shit,” you said, walking slowly to the service room on the lower floor of the cabin where a radio at a table sat. Because of course you wanted to vacation somewhere without people, that meant no cell service either.
A rumble of cramps passed through you, warmth flaring your insides. You gritted your teeth and grabbed the radio, turning the frequency to the ranger station listed on the sheet on the table for emergencies.
“Hello, uh, forest service? I need help,” you said, closing your eyes as pain radiated up your spine. You frowned for a moment, the radio crackling. “Hello? I-”
“This is station 327, Ranger Winchester. What’s the emergency?” asked a strong, serious voice. You bit your bottom lip as you imagined he was an Alpha, your core quivering at the idea of getting a knot. “Mam? Please respond.”
“M-My heat’s early. It’s real bad and I have no medication. I-I’m in the Vrbo cabin off route 37, Mount Dusk I think it was called. I-”
“This line is for true emergencies. Your heat being a few days early and you being an unprepared Omega is not-”
“Listen asshole,” you snarled, gasping when your stomach threatened to curl in on itself. “It’s three fucking weeks early which everyone knows isn’t normal. I need a fucking heat kit, a strong one, or a fucking knot now and since I’m out here alone, all I got is your ass. So get me my shit and-FUCK!”
You dropped the radio as you bent over, falling to your knees. Something was wrong. Heat’s didn’t come on this fast, not even when you scented your true mate.
You could hear noise through the radio but your head was thrumming, your body grateful for the cold wood floor below you. It wasn’t possible to die from a heat, was it? If you let the fever go you supposed but it took days and days for that to happen and you’d only felt crappy for an hour. Yeah, you’d be just fine. This guy would bring you medicine and you’d be fine.
Right?
You blinked open your eyes when you heard glass break. Crap, you’d passed out for who knew how long. The overwhelming scent of Alpha hit you and despite the pain, you shot upright, staring at the man in the wet raincoat as he reached his hand through the broken pane and undid the lock. He froze when he saw you, his own scent shifting subtly. A hint of fear under the surface.
“Jesus,” he mumbled, raking his eyes over your sweat drenched body. He took off his backpack, pulling out a white box and a bottle of water, cautiously setting them on the ground and sliding them over to you.
“I look that bad, huh?” you said, ripping open the box and finding the medicine you needed, knocking it back with a swig of water. 
“You’re in heat and I don’t want to be accused of doing shit I didn’t,” he said. You narrowed your eyes, hand fisting in your own shirt over your stomach. That shouldn’t have been happening still. Heat medication worked instantly. “What’s-”
You fell over again, clutching your abdomen, head spinning, body going haywire at his scent.
“Please,” you whispered, finding his hard eyes. “I’ll give you whatever you want. I-I need you to-”
“I can’t.” A wracked sob slipped past your lips as something in your broke, pain flooding every single cell. You just needed a knot and it would be bearable. He muttered to himself and quickly you were in strong arms, your own wrapping around him shakily. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“I’ll pay you,” you whispered, hating how that sounded but he simply carried you out in the pouring rain, the cold air helping your skin not feel so hot.
“I’m on Novi-Alpha. If I knotted you,, you’d fucking die so I’m sorry but I can’t help you like that even if I wanted to.”
“I’m gonna die from this fucking fever anyways!” you shouted as he opened the backdoor of a rugged looking jeep. 
“One’s a chance, one’s a guarantee,” he said, setting you down, your arms still clinging to him. He eyed you, forcibly grabbing your wrists and pulling them away. “You will not die, understand me? Now let me get you to a hospital.”
You reached for him but he moved away too quickly, closing the door. He ducked into the cabin to retrieve his bag before he was behind the wheel.
“Honey Dusk Hospital is aware you’re in a dangerous heat,” he said, turning the jeep around and driving down the dirt road, way faster than you had.
“Don’t kill me in a fucking car accident on the way,” you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut.
“This vehicle is meant for these roads, unlike your car. We’ll be on route 37 in thirty minutes, at the hospital in forty five.” You threw your head back, his musky scent filling the small space. 
“Distract me,” you breathed out. “Fuck you smell so good. If you weren’t on Novi-Alpha, I’d climb you like a fucking tree.”
“Whoa lady. Calm down-”
“Don’t lady me. We’re like the same fucking age.”
“You say fucking a lot, you realize.”
“You have your insides tearing apart and tell me you wouldn’t be cursing-” You shouted, bracing yourself against the door panel, feeling him step on the gas harder. “What the fuck is happening to me?”
“...I have an idea,” he said quietly. You flashed open your eyes, looking at his incredible scruff covered jawline, his gaze focused on the bumpy, wet road ahead. 
“What? Are you a doctor? Are-”
“No. I only know my basic medical training.” He frowned, rounding a tight corner. “It’s probably not a heat and you’re just sick.”
“I know what a heat feels like thank you very much.” You shivered violently, the ranger sighing. “What’s your name?”
“Dean Winchester. Try to rest. We’ll be there soon.”
The ranger’s suggestion to rest had, shockingly, not worked. By the time you were speeding down this small town’s streets, you were shaking so hard you literally couldn’t stop. Dean had reached back more than once as he drove with a handheld thermometer, muttering a few f-bombs to himself.
At least he wasn’t the one with a hundred and five temperature. A hundred and five and a half to be exact. You were pretty sure your heat was about to boil the fuck out of you and kill you within the next hour.
Dean said something but you didn’t hear him over your screaming. The next thing you knew he was ripping open the door and running inside a hospital with you in his arms, nearly tripping into a stretcher where a team was waiting.
“She’s fucking dying,” he said as he set you down, the team of doctors and nurses rushing you into a side room.
“You said this heat came on suddenly?” he asked Dean, someone sticking a thermometer in your ear.
“106. She’s too hot,” called out the nurse, the doctor near Dean rushing over, the team suddenly pushing you out of the room and down the hall. You were shoved through a pair of double doors into a bathroom, a silver high walled tub in the corner. 
“I got her,” said Dean, lifting you up and plunging you into an icy cold bath. You screamed as it burned your fiery skin, his hands on your shoulders forcing you to stay inside. “Look at me. Look at me.”
You couldn’t get the words out, taking in his green emerald eyes for the first time. His scent was still all around you, pine trees and vanilla beans, a cozy campfire and aged whiskey, fresh tobacco and soft linen. Your brain went fuzzy, blood pumping in your ears, thrumming in time with your heart. Was it getting slower? Your eyes were getting heavier, that was for sure. 
But he smelled so pretty, so…homey. Rugged. Yours.
“We’re losing her!” someone shouted, just as one last image of his concerned face crossed your mind.
You felt strangely…blissed out when you woke. Satisfied, like you were after being on the receiving end of a knot but also relaxed and floaty, like when you finished a heat. It wasn’t exactly a problem your heat had passed but you remembered a whole lot of pain and a high fever which wasn’t normal. 
So what the fuck had happened?
You stretched in bed and sat up, a doctor in a white coat stepping into the room with a smile.
“Y/N! Glad to see you awake. It’s been a few hours. How are you feeling?” he asked, gently taking your wrist and checking your pulse. 
“Uh, pretty good actually. I take it my heat’s gone?” He hummed, raising your arm up, feeling under your armpit.
“Yes. There’s not many cases a year but some Omegas do unfortunately have a negative reaction.” The doctor put two fingers to your bonding gland on your neck, your eyes narrowing. Why would he be feeling that? 
“What are you doing?” you asked as he pulled them back, glancing at a monitor. 
“Just checking your bond is healing.” You stared at him, the doctor glancing down with a sigh. “You don’t remember, do you? What happened before you passed out in the tub?”
“I remember being dumped in ice cold water and a whole lot of people shouting but that’s it.” 
“You didn’t pass out immediately. We determined while you were on the way here that your heat was triggered by the fact you came into contact with your true mate. Ordinarily, you would have picked up on this yourselves but your Alpha is on medication that has strong side effects. Namely, he was only vaguely aware of who you were through scent but there was no desire to mate as would be the norm. For you, unfortunately there is no recognition on a level that you’re aware of. You understandably would not know you went into heat early because of your true mate.”
You reached a hand up to your bonding gland, wide eyed when you felt…something. You flew out of bed, the doctor trying to stop you but you were quickly in the small bathroom, staring in the mirror.
“What the fuck is that!” you shouted. On your neck was a fresh, pink, bite mark. Someone had fucking claimed you. You angrily spun around, the doctor holding up his hands. “What kind of hospital is this! I’m suing the fuck out of you and this whole place!”
You caught a whiff of something…delectable, an Alpha’s scent somewhere close by. It calmed you, ever so briefly, the doctor sighing. 
“The man that brought you in-”
“The ranger guy.”
“Yes he…well he…there’s no easy way to say this. He is your true mate. Ordinarily we would have used medication to mimic your true mate’s scent but seeing as he was there…when he was told he would be able to claim…” he said as you stalked out, eye twitching. “We were losing you and receiving a claim bite from your true mate was the fastest way to bring your fever down. In emergency situations, true mates are allowed to make medical choice for you if you’re unable-”
“He wasn’t my mate then,” you growled.
“Physically, no but on a metaphysical level, yes. Frankly, the health of my patient, you, is all I care about. We’d like to observe you a few more hours before discharging.” You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes.
“So my heat is magically gone and some random dude hanging out in the hall is now my Alpha?” 
“That’s the more blunt way of putting it. We’ll send home medication to suppress your urges to mate physically. Your Alpha will be unable to knot you until he has completed his Novi-Alpha prescription.” 
“And when will that be?” you asked, tilting your head. The doctor frowned. “When?”
“...You don’t know what Novi-Alpha is prescribed for, do you. That is a discussion for you and your Alpha.” You wanted to argue but he lifted his chin. “Please let me finish my examination and determine if your heat had any consequences.”
Three hours later they finally let you leave, a white baggie in hand that held a bottle of pills you were to take once a week for the foreseeable future. There were well over a hundred inside which made you more than queasy.
What the fuck was Novi-Alpha and why did a guy that looked more than healthy need to be on it?
You frowned when you stepped outside under the covered front entrance, the ranger standing from where he sat on a bench. 
“Hey,” he said quietly. “How are you feeling?” 
“I didn’t give you permission to claim me.” His scent shifted, an edge to it you didn’t like. He narrowed his eyes, a frown growing on his otherwise handsome face. “Oh, don’t you start on that we’re true mates shit. You didn’t ask for my consent.”
“Excuse me but you were the one begging for it,” he quipped back. He took a few steps away like he was heading for the sidewalk, suddenly turning on a dime and getting in your face. He breathed heavily, clenching his jaw. “You don’t feel…this and I get that it’s my fault. I barely feel it myself. And I frankly don’t care about your consent. My mate was five minutes away from death.”
“Oh, I did not sign up for some toxic asshole,” you said, shaking your head. You took a step, Dean grabbing your wrist. He looked ready to snarl, lip curling up. 
“True mates are never, ever bad mates. Stop hating me for saving you.”
“I don’t even fucking know you. This whole situation is your damn fault in the first place.” He twitched his eye, yanking on your arm so you stepped forward. “Get off, ass-”
“I am your Alpha and I’m taking you home,” he said, tugging you along after him, your feet cold on the wet ground, socks already soaked through. 
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you growled. Dean whipped around and in a second, you were tossed over his shoulder. “Dean! Put me down!”
“You’ll wear yourself out if you don’t calm down.” You growled, punching his back twice. You raised your fist again but felt dizzy, your hands instead gripping him tightly. “Did you listen to the doctors at all? You need to take it easy.”
“Just take me to my cabin,” you grumbled. He didn’t speak again, only grunted once when he opened the passenger door of his truck to slide you inside. You were too tired to deal with this crap. You’d go back to the cabin, sleep for a solid twelve hours and figure out this mate crap tomorrow. 
The roads were unfamiliar as Dean drove in silence, winding and twisting as he drove away from town and off a small road. It was a gravel road unlike the one to your cabin but you perked up when you saw a cabin in a small clearing after only a few minutes. 
“Uh, that’s not my cabin,” you said. Dean put the truck in park, turning it off. “I was out on Mount-”
“This is my house…our house,” he mumbled the last part. You shook your head at him, Dean rolling his eyes. “You need rest, not to sit in a car for hours. I’ll get your shit from that rental and bring it here. We’ll figure out the rest of your crap from wherever you’re from later.”
“Excuse me? We’re mates, as much as that appalls me. We make decisions like where to live together. I have a job, a life-”
“We live here. End of discussion,” he growled. His scent was raw, twitchy. There was no room for arguing. You were ready to fight back but you forced yourself to calm down. He was your true mate and as much as you hated to admit it, he had a point. True mates were never bad to one another. He wouldn’t harm you but good god was this guy protective. 
You frowned when he held up a finger to you and got out. He threw up his hood, rain coming down harder. In a flash he was at your door, picking you up bridal style and rushing you over to a covered porch. He set you down to unlock the door, flipping a light switch before he stepped back. You walked past him, surprised to find the cabin quite spacious and modern.
He disappeared behind you, returning with your white paper bag, now wet. His boots were removed and you peeled off your soaked through socks, following him slowly as he went to the open kitchen area on the right. The bag was set down, Dean moving to his fridge and taking a few things out.
It was open concept, kitchen on the right, living room on the left, a dining table in the front by the windows. There was a hallway in the back and one off the kitchen, probably leading to bedrooms and a garage. A large fireplace was nestled in the corner of the living room and you saw Dean cross into your vision, going to it to toss in a few logs. 
Honestly, it was nicer than your rental had been.
Once he had a fire going, he turned back to where you stood on the front rug, water dripping off of you. His lips pressed into a thin line, looking you up and down not like an Alpha would his Omega. No, he was being very clear. 
You were the stray that’d followed him home he hadn’t wanted. 
“I don’t have to be here,” you said when he approached, staring up at his dark eyes. “This isn’t normal. We’re supposed to be all over each other and clearly we’re not. We-”
“There’s a stew going on the stove. It’ll be ready in an hour. Just leave it alone.” He put a hand on the small of your back, walking you down to the back hall, motioning you to the last door on the left. He flipped on a light, cascading you into a cozy bedroom with soft white bedding and a dark green flannel blanket on top. 
He cleared his throat and went to a closet, pulling out a few pieces including a t shirt, hoodie, sweatpants and pair of boxer briefs. 
“You should warm up in the shower. Bathroom is right there. The laundry room is on the other side of the house, near the kitchen and garage. It’s coming down harder so it’ll take me a few hours to get to the rental and back here. You should-”
“Take it easy. Yeah, I got that.” He nodded, pausing at the bedroom door with his back to you. 
“If it’s any consolation, I’m sorry this happened to you. You don’t deserve it.” You quirked your eyebrow up.
“You’re my Alpha. We’re soulmates. I guess this is supposed to happen.” He was still, the air thick. “I…listen I know I was…I wish I’d been aware of what I’d been saying but…”
He smelled tense, his hand in a tight fist by his side. What the fuck was up with this guy?
“Whether we like it or not, we’re mates,” you said gently. “When you get off that medicine, it’ll feel different-”
“I can never get off it and I can never knot you. You’ll never feel a damn thing for me.” Then he was gone, tearing down the hall and out the front door before you could even move. 
An unpleasant shiver ran down your spine that he was right. 
Your feet moved on autopilot to the bathroom, stripping out of the wet clothes and standing in front of the nicely tiled shower. In seconds you were under hot water, cascading down your back, through your hair. Fingers reached up to your neck, rubbing over your bond.
There were no sparks or flurry in your veins. You were supposed to be able to feel Dean, feel your connection, feel his soul.
But there was nothing. All you felt was empty.
You couldn’t feel the other part of your soul and he blamed himself.
“Fuck that,” you said, quickly finishing and getting dressed in the clothes aside from the sweatpants that were too long.
You found his computer in one of the spare bedrooms, stealing it along with a notepad and pen. Out in the kitchen, you settled into a seat at the island and drew a line down the middle of the pad. One side for information about Dean, the other Novi-Alpha.
With a quick stretch, you cracked open the laptop and got to work.
Three Hours Later
It was dark by the time headlights flashed through the front windows. The computer said it was just after six thirty and you knew you were about thirty seconds away from an argument. Ah, what a wonderful way to spend your first night with your Alpha.
Out of view you heard the door leading from the garage to the house crack open, wet boots against the tile in the mudroom. 
“I’m back!” he called from around the corner. “We’ll unpack your stuff tomorrow. How was…”
Your eyes darted over to the hallway he exited from, his socked feet padding his footfalls on the woode floors that covered the rest of the house. He stared at where you had his laptop, a charger plugged into the side of the island, a stack of papers next to you, your notepad, pen, three different highlighters and a cup of coffee.
“Are…are you working?” He asked, face souring. “You should be resting. I thought you were here on vacation anyways.”
“I am and this isn’t work related.” He narrowed his eyes, not saying anything as he went to the sink on the other side of the island to wash up. 
“Did you eat yet?” You shook your head, typing some more. A heavy sigh left him. He went to a cabinet, pulling out two large bowls. “You really should have eaten something. You nearly died this morning. Your school project can wait.”
“I’m not in college,” you said, jotting down a few more notes before you saved what you’d been working on and signed out of your account. You closed the screen, watching water trail down from his wet hair and soaking his shirt collar. “Why are you wet?”
“Because there’s a thunderstorm outside. It rains here most days,” he said dryly, giving you a side glare as he walked the two bowls of stew over to the kitchen table. You cocked your head at him as you got up, Dean quickly retrieving utensils. “What?”
“You parked in the garage just now and my cabin was far enough away that you’d be dry. Where’d you stop on the way back?” He slammed the drawer shut, eye twitching. “Strike a nerve?”
“I asked you to do one thing. One thing. Rest. And y-you’re writing a research paper or some crap? Sit down and eat your damn dinner.” You would have told him off but truth be told, you were starving a bit. You took your bowl and moved it to the seat across from his, Dean angrily setting down a spoon. A few moments later, a large glass of water was in front of you and he had a bottle of beer on his placemat. Dean sat with a loud thud, shoveling a large spoonful of food into his mouth.
“Why are you wet?” you asked again, crossing your arms. 
“Why does it matter? Fucking eat.” You leaned back, Dean dropping his spoon in the bowl. “Really? This is how it’s gonna be? I’ve been nothing but nice-”
“If this is you nice then I’d hate to see you mean.” You raised your chin, picking up the spoon. “I’ve always heard alpha’s protective instincts are unmatched. You can barely feel whatever this bond is and you’re so worked up-”
“I almost watched you die today.” You closed your eyes and sighed. A small noise made you open your eyes, Dean sliding a small white box over to you. You frowned, lips parting when you saw the newest iPhone inside. “I got you a phone on the account your other one was in your pocket when you took your artic dip. I rushed to the store before they closed. That is why I’m wet. I’d never want you to feel like you’re trapped here, especially when you can’t feel our ‘whatever bond.’”
“Thank you,” you said quietly. You ate in silence, the only sounds coming from the rain on the roof, the clanking of spoons and the quiet thrum of a soft rock station in the living room.
He seemed…stressed. Maybe you should wait for the morning to bring up what you’d found.
But you didn’t get the chance when he picked up and glanced at your notepad. Green eyes scanned over the pages before he gathered up everything you’d been working on.
And tossed it straight into the fireplace.
“Hey!” you shouted, rushing over as he stopped you in your tracks. He leered down, eyes dark. “That was-”
“You will delete everything you saved on that computer. Now.”
“You can’t-” He gripped your arm tight, so hard he was shaking it.
“Do it or I will make your life hell.” He released you, spinning you around towards the computer. You didn’t believe he’d hurt you. True mates were incapable of it. But you didn’t want to tempt him anymore than you already had.
Ten minutes later, your backup was gone and after a through examination by Dean, he took the computer and tossed it into the fireplace as well.
“I know you have questions,” he said quietly, back to you as the flames danced around the melting device. “I never should have gone hiking this morning. You caught my scent in the wind and-”
“Why would you go hiking in the pouring rain? It was raining this morning too. I had my coffee under the covered porch but it was coming down like bullets. No one would be out there willingly.” He turned and faced you, eyes roaming over your body, stuck on how his boxer briefs molded to your legs.
“In another life, we could have been happy. I would have given you everything you asked for. But not this one. I will keep you safe but that is all we are. We don’t get our happy ever after until we’re both dead.”
You swallowed, stepping into the living room, stopping a few feet away. “You hurt my arm just now.”
“I know,” he said, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again as long as you don’t do stupid things.”
You were getting angry again, Dean holding up his hands. “Stupid shit like try to know my new Alpha who just left me all alone? Sorry for trying to look up your damn social media. Asshole.”
Dean dropped his hands and went back to the fireplace, poking the computer with a poker, shaking his head.
“The more in the dark you are-”
“I’m a corporate forensic analyst, Dean,” you said, Dean’s shoulders stiffening. “Those notes on the computer? In that pad? Those articles? You can burn them all but it’s in my head. I don’t need the internet anymore to figure out what’s going on.”
“And what does your analysis tell you?” he grit out.
“Novi-Alpha is a cancer medication specifically for Alphas. But you don’t have it and never have. So why would an otherwise healthy Alpha take it? Well, it apparently has other uses that the public doesn’t know about…if you’re willing to live with the side effects. Side effects like knotting becoming a deadly activity to the person on the receiving end. The inability to feel your mate. Scent changes. And my personal favorite, if taken without the binding agent that’s given for cancer treatment, it changes your DNA coding without changing your DNA. Apparently law enforcement doesn’t want that news to get out there because it’s a bitch to catch people if they find out they can change their DNA on tests.”
You grabbed his arm and made him face you, a loud crack of thunder echoing in the room. Dean breathed calmly, eyes finding yours.
“Why are you taking medicine to change your DNA?”
“Because I did something bad, Y/N.” He got closer, pressing his chest to yours, forcing you to tilt your head. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
Fingers brushed over your cheek, thumb swiping over the curve of it slowly. “Because your true mate is a monster. And once you know the truth, you’ll want to run away…and I don’t think I’m strong enough to let you go.”
The air was thick with his scent, dark yet pleasant. Painful even. You leaned into his touch, Dean’s green eyes widening ever so slightly.
“Novi-Alpha prevents Omegas from feeling their true mate. But I know you feel me.” You closed your eyes, breathing him in. “You have to tell me the truth eventually.”
“No I don’t,” he whispered. 
“You’ll tell me,” you said, opening your eyes, Dean’s hand sliding down to your mark. “Because I’m in danger if you don’t.”
He shook his head, pulling away from you. “Don’t pull that crap, Y/N. You’re safer not knowing.”
“Right. That’s why you burned everything just now.” He looked up, like someone else would magically tell him what to do. “You need to protect me. It’s your job. So you have to tell me the truth, Alpha. You have to.”
He laughed quietly, running a hand through his damp hair. “Using my title to get what you want. Manipulative. Maybe you were meant for me.”
“Dean-”
“The Ranger.” You raised your eyebrows at him, Dean wandering to the dark window.
“Uh, what? This is because you’re a forest ranger?” He laughed again, crossing his arms.
“No. I do that because…it’s a pretty isolated job. Small town work.” He looked to his right, a sad smile on his face. “The Ranger. That was my name when I had a different job.”
“That’s not a name…” you said, Dean shrugging. “What’d you do when you were The Ranger?”
He smirked, meeting your curious gaze. “Have you ever killed anyone?” 
He slowly stalked back to you, tilting his head. He leaned in close, glancing at your lips. “N-No, can’t say I have.”
“Ever kill an animal?”
“I hit a squirrel with my car once. I cried all night for that.” Dean rested his forehead against yours, his scent rolling off of him in powerful waves. “D-Do you hunt animals?”
“No.” He brushed his lips to the shell of your ear, his pulse strangely calm. “Now people, that’s a different story.”
_______
A/N: Read Part 2 here!
615 notes · View notes
wosoamazing · 17 days
Text
Bad Timing
Warnings: Endometriosis, Passing Out, Vomiting
A/N: IDK how good it is, can’t decide if I like it or not but yeah…. (also I tried to make this as accurate as possible in terms of the medical things but IDK)
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It was your first Lionesses camp, which you were dreading, if you weren't nervous enough your period was due during this camp, and to say it wasn’t easy was a massive understatement, you had just recently been diagnosed with endometriosis, after what felt like years of being told you were over dramatic. You were rooming with Leah, Sarina had said something about “broadening horizons” or something by switching up the rooms slightly, it meant nothing to you, it was your first camp. However this made you more nervous and scared about getting your period. Leah was really nice and kind, and you really enjoyed playing at Arsenal with her and you always took on any tips she had for you, but you were worried she would see you as weak after seeing how you were on your period. You knew she also had endometriosis and for the one and a half years you have been at arsenal she had not once taken a day off, making you feel like you just weren’t strong enough. You missed training almost once a month and Beth even forced you to pull out of a game one day, insisting she stayed with you missing the game as well. To be fair Leah had done her ACL a week before you signed for arsenal however you still never once heard her complain about it.
Training had been going well, even though you had a dull ache in your abdomen and you had a headache, you knew it meant you would be getting your period pretty soon but you thought you would be in clear at least for now and that you could make it through training, you just had to try and ignore the pain, that had slowly been increasing in intensity.
You were having a drink when a hand was placed on your shoulder, “do you have another pair of shorts?” It was Leah, “no,” you replied quietly trying not to cry, how did you manage to not bring a spare pair, of course this happened, you had travelled from your hotel on the bus to training so it wasn't like you could just go up to your room. “Okay, well why don’t you go to the locker room and I’ll just tell Sarina what is happening and then I’ll come to you, I have a spare pair.” “I should probably go get my tablets from the medics” “Do you-” you cut her off with a nod knowing what she was going to say before a wave of stabbing cramps caused you to hunch over slightly and clutch at your stomach. “It’s okay, I will do all of that, you just go to the locker room.” you nodded before you turned around and walked into the locker room.
Leah had noticed things not many people would, first it was how you missed a training session from the same week 3 months in a row, then it was the fact that you bled through more than you would’ve liked, and the last one was that you would always sit with your knees to your chest in meetings and breaks during the week that your day off fell into.
____
“Sarina, I think Y/N has just started her period, I’m just coming to tell you because she needs to change her shorts and doesn't have any but I do, so I was just going to go with her.” Leah says as she walked over to Sarina, who nodded before walking away from the other girls getting Leah to follow her, “She has endometriosis, the medics have her tablets and from what her doctors reports say it gets bad, it’s only a friendly, I might get someone to take you both back to the hotel, so we can make a judgement on how we approach this long term, I don’t want to risk her health. Are you okay with that?”
“Yeah, I think that might be good. Thank you” “No, thank you Leah. I know you will take good care of her, it might not just be a coincidence that you are her roommate.”
____
Once you got into your room you changed out of your training gear and Leah went down with one of the medics so she could get some things you may need.
Once you had changed you started to walk over to your bed when a shooting pain ran down your back and legs sending you to the floor. You were curled up on the floor of your room, holding your stomach tightly, just wishing Leah came back soon, maybe she could help. You really hated how your periods just started like a tidal wave, giving you no time to prepare. You felt like someone was squeezing and twisting your uterus, whilst your back cramped.
“Oh tiny,” Leah said sympathetically as she walked back into the room, she placed the items she had gotten on the bed before she crouched down in front of you.
“Do you want me to move you to the bed?” you gave her a weak nod, and she placed a hand on your shoulder before rolling you over slightly so she could pick you up, the slight movement caused you to whimper before the swift movement of her picking you up caused a heavy stream of tears to fall from your eyes, “I know, I know, I’m sorry”. She gently placed you down in the middle of your bed, before getting in next to you, her upper body was propped up slightly from the pillows as she laid down next to you. She silently handed you a hot water bottle which you placed on your stomach before curling up into a ball on top of her, your head resting on her chest. “Do you want one on your back too or no? I can keep it there,” “yes please,” you said weakly, she grabbed it and softly placed it on your back before holding it there.
“I have a sick bag if you need it, and please ask me for anything at all, I promise I wont judge you, I just want to help.” you just nodded slightly and she wrapped her free hand around you, you managed to fall asleep but even asleep Leah could tell you were still in pain.
____
“How is she, is she okay?” Beth panicked as she rushed into your room concerned for her favourite little person, she had obviously been informed by Sarina or one of the other staff. You had known Beth since you were born, you were very close family friends, your Dad’s knew each other from when they were young kids and even though you were 11 years younger than her you both always got along well. So when you moved to Arsenal it was a no-brainer that you would move in with her and Viv, it also meant they would have someone living with them to help. When her Mum died it hit you hard, June had been a big part of your life, always looking after you for your parents when their work caused them to be away, she would always show up to your weekend games if she was available and even came to your grandparents day at school, when your grandparents couldn't come but you didn't want your parents to go, when the teacher suggested you could bring an adult friend you had asked her and she happily accepted.
“Yeah she is okay, I think she is in a lot of pain though, it's kind of worrying me,” Leah said as she looked at you, noticing a fear tears were now leaving your eyes even as you slept.
“y/n” Leah softly said as she brushed her hand against your cheek causing your eyes to flutter open, “Beth is here,” you opened your eyes to see Beth sitting on Leah’s bed, “Can I go to the toilet?” “Sure, do you want me to help?” you nodded shyly and Beth helped you off Leah before steadying you as you walked into the bathroom, just as you entered the bathroom, you felt light headed and dizzy, everything was going blurry and there was a ringing in your ears.
“Beth-” your voice was laced with panic and pain “It’s okay, don’t worry, let's just sit on the floor,” Beth said calmly as she lowered you to the floor knowing what was going to happen, as soon as you were on the floor your body went limp against Beth’s and everything went black. “It’s okay, you’re okay, we’re here, we’ve got you,” you heard Beth say as you came back to, opening your eyes slowly so they knew, “Are you okay?” you shook your head as you closed your eyes again. All your body weight was still being supported by Beth, as you took some deep breaths “do you think you might be sick?” you nodded your head, and Leah quickly got the sick bag from the bed and handed it to Beth, “I’ve got a bag, okay. You’re going to be okay though, I promise, I’ve got you, no matter what happens,” Beth reassured you, a few minutes had passed and thankfully you hadn't been sick yet. “Are they always this bad?” Leah asked to which you nodded slightly before letting your head fall back against Beth’s shoulder, she brushed away the pieces of hair that were stuck to your forehead before giving you a small kiss on your forehead.
“Have-” Beth shook her head, “They wont do anything more Leah, we’ve been to extensive appointments, she is too young for them to look into more drastic things yet apparently, and due to her age she is limited on the strength and type of painkillers she is on but some months they are a bit better but they also can get a lot worse.”
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m4tthewsgf · 3 months
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Period pain
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Chris Sturniolo x fem reader
Summary: fluffy shit where Chris comforts his girl while she's experiencing period cramps and all that good shit
Warnings: language, blood
Author's Note: just got my period and I'm slowly dying HAHA (send me some chocolate pls). Anyway, sorry this is short lmao. Enjoy!!! You're enough!!!
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You loved being a woman. You truly did. You loved putting together silly little outfits, wearing short skirts and crop tops and doing your makeup. It's a privilege being a girl. There's so much beauty in being one and the relationship that women have with each other is magical. There's something so special about it that no words can correctly describe it, but just the fact that we're women all together simply unites us.
However, there are a lot of things that came with being a woman that were ugly. Men who think they own anything and anyone, society's standards, sexism, patriarchy.... the list goes on. But periods? That was a goddamn curse.
You viewed women as superheroes. The fact that our bodies are able to create a whole new body with a heart and bones and brain from scratch is truly fascinating. Scary, but fascinating. That was our superpower. Yet, you and your boyfriend, Chris, were too young to start a family, even though you want to make him a father one day, and now your body is punishing you for that.
Your period pain was the worst. Your cramps felt like knives stabbing your guts, you had extreme migraines and headaches, back pain and on top of that, you were obviously bleeding out of your fucking uterus. Your mood swings were insane, to say the least, and so were your cravings.
Chris had been in a relationship with you for almost a year now so he knew what the deal was and he always tried his best to make you as comfortable as possible. You appreciated his willingness. It was adorable.
You were currently laying in your bed in a fetal position, hoping that the way you've folded your body would ease some of the pain. You have already texted your boyfriend and cancelled the plans you had made for this evening; he wanted to take you out to have a dinner date. You really wanted to go, the two of you haven't gone on a date in a while now, but you could barely breathe from the pain.
Just when you were about to put a movie on the laptop you had settled right next to you, you heard your front door open.
"Baby?" Said Chris from downstairs.
"Bedroom!" you yelled with as much energy you could. You were sure that dying would hurt less than that.
You heard your wooden stairs creak, indicating that Chris was making his way up to your room. You smiled at yourself.
"There's my angel!" He greeted you and planted a couple of kisses on your forehead and cheeks, making you giggle.
"How are you feeling baby?" he kneeled in front of you, his hands resting on the mattress and softly caressing you hair.
"Honestly if you stabbed me right now, it would hurt less" you mumbled against your pillow with half a smile.
"Well, I brought you some stuff!" Chris exclaimed before turning towards the two big bags he had placed on the floor once he entered the room.
"Obviously I got you your meds, you'll surely need em," he placed 3 boxes of Ibuprofen on your nightstand.
"Baby, I'm not downing the whole box, these will last me forever! You got 2 the previous month," you said with widened eyes.
"And? I'd rather know you have more than enough than not" he shrugged his shoulders.
"I also got you a heating pad, I read that heat helps a lot with the crumps," he pulled out a pink heating pad that was coated with a fuzzy layer of fabric.
"Then we have your favourite Yankee candles, the evergreen and caramel ones," he playfully raised his eyebrows at you, "I got a whole ass chocolate cake because I know you love that shit, some Reese's, chocolate bars..." he trailed off.
"Oh, I got some bath bombs too! Thought we'd try em out, they smell really good" he showed you two circular bath bombs, a blue and a purple one.
"And then obviously I have your pads and tampons, the Caesar's salad you go nuts about, your favourite pasta sauce...I think that's all" he finished. Even though your jaw was on the floor, it was only one of the bags he had brought with him.
"What's one the other bag?"
"Obviously some of my shirts and hoodies, jackass" he laughed at your cluelessness. You felt tears brim in your eyes. Your sensitive side came through on your period, you could cry with anything.
"Chris..." you smiled lovingly at him with a blurry vision.
"No need to cry ma, I'll take care of you m'kay?" he chuckled once more and kissed the side of your mouth.
"I love you" you softly spoke against his lips.
"I love you more baby," he kissed you again, "now, I'm gonna go run you a warm bath and then we're gonna eat whatever you want. I can get us food, whatever you're craving, or I can cook you your pasta... how does that sound?" he asked with a caring gaze.
"In n out sounds good right now if I'm being honest" you furrowed your eyebrows at him apologetically.
"Then in n out it is" Chris kissed your nose before making his way to your bathroom.
That night he didn't let you raise your hand. You needed water? He sprinted downstairs to get it. You had to use the bathroom? He escorted you, sometimes even carried you. His presence not only made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, something that always happened when he was around, but it also eased your pain. You couldn't be more thankful for him.
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foxy-eva · 8 months
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Remedy
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Summary: Spencer finally has someone to take care of him when he has a migraine
Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader
Category: Comfort, Fluff
Content Warning: migraines, sensitivity to light, taking a bath together
Word Count: 800
Masterlist
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Even though you knew Spencer had to be home, there was complete silence in the apartment when you stepped inside. It was hard to see anything with all the curtains closed, just a slight golden shimmer daring to shine through the fabric covering the windows. 
Quietly you walked into the bedroom where you found your boyfriend lying on the bed with one of his hands covering his face, still fully dressed in his usual work attire. You weren't sure if he was even awake when you approached the bedside until he moved his fingers away from his eyes to look at you for a second.
"Migraine?" You asked as you sat down beside him. 
"Yes," he confirmed before closing his eyes once more. 
Your fingertips made contact with the soft curls hanging into his face, carefully brushing them aside. 
"I'm so sorry you're not feeling well," you whispered. "What can I do?"
"Nothing," he whined. "I'm sorry."
You decided that as long as it wouldn't make his headache worse, offering him company was all you could do for now. 
"Why are you apologizing?" You asked as you kicked off your shoes to lay down beside him. 
"Because I promised to take you out for dinner."
He didn't move when you tried to cuddle up with him, lying beside you all rigid and obviously uncomfortable.  
"We'll do it another time. It's okay," you reassured him. 
"No it's not," he groaned. "I couldn't even take a shower. I feel gross." 
You sat up to look at him but his eyes were still closed. You wanted to comfort him despite knowing that  it wouldn't work.
"You're not gross, I promise."
Spencer didn't seem convinced and only huffed out some air instead of an answer. After being with him for quite some time now you knew that he wouldn't be able to get comfortable and relax like that. 
After thinking about it for a moment, you suggested, "How about we take a bath together? I can help you wash your hair."
To your surprise there was no resistance from him, instead he just mumbled, "Okay."
You left his side to fill up the bathtub, making sure that the water was just the right temperature. A few droplets of lavender oil in the water quickly let a subtle and relaxing scent spread through the room. You gathered a couple of candles and lit them, aware that any harsh light would worsen Spencer's headache. 
When everything was prepared you took your boyfriend's hand to pull him into a standing position. Carefully you helped him shed his clothes before placing a tender kiss on his cheek. The innocent gesture let a small smile form on his face. 
You led him into the bathroom and motioned for him to step into the tub. After ridding yourself of your own clothes, you stepped into the water and sat down behind him. As you began to knead the tight muscles of his neck and shoulders, a relieved sigh fell from Spencer's lips. 
You leaned forward to give his cheek another little kiss before whispering, "How are you feeling?"
"Better, now that you're here." 
After getting his hair wet you started spreading shampoo over his scalp. As you began massaging his head you felt how the tensions slowly left his body. A warmth spread through your chest when you noticed that those tender motions helped relieve his pain.
"That feels really nice," he breathed. 
Spencer deserved to be taken care of and you'd be happy to spend the entire evening doing just that. Even when you were sure that all of his hair was already clean, you kept going with those comforting motions until your fingers got tired. 
After rinsing the shampoo you began working some conditioner into his curls, making sure his beautiful hair would look just as good as always. When the both of you were clean, you helped him out of the tub and wrapped him into a bathrobe before he lay back down on the bed again. 
When you joined him on the mattress he wanted to put his arm around your body to let you curl into his side but you stopped him and said, "Let me hold you, Spencer."
It took him a moment to understand. Once he did, he turned to his side to let you press your chest into his back and wrap your arm tightly around him. Holding him like that let your heart skip a beat and it made you feel closer to him with every minute passing. It wasn't easy for Spencer to let someone care for him like that but you knew how much he appreciated it. 
Quieter than before, you heard your boyfriend whisper, "Thank you for being here."
"Of course," you cooed before you began giggling. "Don't get used to this position though. I still prefer to be the little spoon."
And even though you weren't able to see it, you still knew that your words made him smile. 
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Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this story you should check out my Blurb Collection!
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Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @justreadingficsdontmindme @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @pauline5525mgg @sanaz1dlol @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @beepbooptoop @lovejules888 @liltimmyst @encyclo-reid-ia @lilibet261 @fandomstuffff @spencer-reid-wonderland @happymangospot @conniesanchor @ellamaianderson @cynbx @dashneydanger @melifluorei-d @bitchassbecky691 @iameternallylonely @hotchandspencearedilfs @amititties @castiels-majestic-wings @torigorie @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @reidtopia @velvetthunder93 @cncoxlifeline @jordie-gvf-admin @saturnstringz @missabsey @guacam011y @whoopdy-doo @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @snapeknot @enamoradax @hales-17
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purplestars222 · 2 months
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Period comfort with hazbin characters
ft alastor, lucifer, fallen!adam and husk
gn afab reader! no y/n used, and you arent in a relationship with alastor, just besties <3 all the other boys have a crush on you.
there will be more parts, may not be period comfort tho, just more hazbin/helluva characters comforting the reader while theyre sick
cw: mentions of period sex, adam is chubby, slight ooc
mdni please<3
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Alastor
The smell of blood draws alastor to your room, hes a little worried that you're hurt, but its nothing he cant fix. As he enters your room, and sees you curled up in the fetal position he goes and sits next to you
"Darling, whats the matter? It's a wonderful day and you're spending it in bed! I believe Charlie is baking cookies! You-"
"go away alastor. i'm on my period."
"Well why didnt you say so!"
Alastor disappears into his shadow, and returns a few minutes later with a hot water bottle, a bottle of cold water, some pain meds and dark chocolate. He throws the items on your bed and smiles at you expectingly. You shoot him back a smile of appreciation. Even tho alastor and you had your moments, he's still a good friend when he needs to be.
Lucifer
Lucifer has a crush on you, and its no secret either. Every day he sits next to you during breakfast, he always makes sure you eat enough. He always does Charlie's silly little trust exercises with you, just being in your vicinity makes him happy. When you dont come down for breakfast, he gets worried, he made your favourite for you- pancakes! He decides to take some to your room. When he enters, and sees you curled up on the bed, he sits the tray of pancakes on your bedside table and sits next to you
"Hey, you didnt come down for breakfast, are you okay??"
you shake your head no, and he seems really concerned. He hates seeing you in pain, its horrible. Suddenly he remembers something- lillith acted like this when she first came to hell, periods. In the garden of eden, lilliths periods didnt hurt her, but as soon as she came to hell, it felt like her uterus was stabbing her, luckily luci fixed it
"Can i help?"
You stare up at him, eyes slightly watering from the pain and nod your head, anything to get rid of this. Luci carefully peels back your blanket and rests his hands on your groin, you shiver at the feeling of his warm hands, its nice. Theres a bright glow of golden light, and suddenly, the pains gone, the period pain at least, you still have a headache, and you're still pretty exhausted. You pull luci into a hug, he hugs back, giving you a kiss on the head
"Want me to run you a bath, sweetheart?"
"Yes please"
Lucifer hops up and heads into your ensuite, he starts a bath, making sure to get some really nice smelling soap and bath salts. He puts some rose petals in the tub to make it look pretty, and a couple of rubber duckies. Lucifer cares so much, hes so sweet.
Adam
Adam doesn't really understand the whole 'periods thing'. They didn't have them in heaven, so he doesn't really know what to do when you wake up grabbing your stomach. He pulls out his phone and decides to have a look online to see if there's anything he can get that will help, theres products from the vee's, but he doesnt trust those fuckers. He scrolls across an article that says orgasms can help with period cramps. When adam first shoots the idea at you, you're hesitant, period sex isnt something you've done before, and it seems a little scary, but you let him. He puts a towel under the both of you, and he makes sure that you 100% wanna do this before he gets started. When you guys have done, your pains are pretty much gone. he pulls you on top of him and you just lay there for awhile, enjoying the warmth from adams soft belly <3
Husk
Husk isn't too educated with this stuff either, but he knows how to take care of someone when they're sick. He doesn't realise you have your period at first, he just thinks it's a stomach bug. He gets you some chicken noodle soup and a few painkillers, when you explain to him that you have no appetite because of how bad the pain is, it suddenly clicks in his brain what's happening. He gives you a small kiss on the forehead, then walks out. He goes to charlie asking for help, she gathers together a basket full of snacks, pads, tampons, a menstrual cup, period underwear, hot water bottle with a cute cat cover and some noise cancelling headphones, in case things get overwhelming. Husk brings it back to you and lets you snuggle into him, something he doesn't allow very often. You spend the next few days cuddled up in bed, playing with husks ears watching movies. He helps you when you need to shower, and also keeps your hot water bottle hot. he just really enjoys taking care of you, not that he'd admit that
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luveline · 3 months
Note
what about Steve finding out he’s gonna be a dad for the first time??? or him doting on you while you’re pregnant 🥹
You’re asleep when Steve’s starts kissing you. “Love you,” he’s saying between presses of his lips, the words bouncing off of the side of your nose. 
You blink, eyelashes sticky with sleep. Your back aches and couch springs groan as you try to stretch, Steve’s arms locked around you to hold you in place. “What time is it?” you ask. Your voice barely comes out. You try again, “How long have I been sleeping?” 
You tip your face back. He’s laid down beside you, smiling, his hair crushed by the cushion under his cheek. You brush it out of his eyes. 
“I don’t know,” he says, sounding happy and affectionate at once. “I’ve been home for an hour. We napped.” 
You can tell. You feel distinctly relaxed. 
“You okay?” he asks. 
“Nauseous.” 
“Oh no,” he murmurs, pulling you against his chest. His hand slides down to your stomach. “What’s she doing to you?” 
For a moment, he talks so gently, with so much love, you assume he’s talking to the baby. But then you realise he’s talking to you, and you melt like soft taffy under a hot sun. “Nothing, really.” 
“No?” he asks, hand on the topmost curve of your bump. 
“I think I didn’t like lunch. My taste buds are changing or something.” 
“I can make you something. I’m an excellent chef.” 
“Maybe…” You curl into him as much as you can in the limited space. “In a minute.” 
“In a minute,” he repeats, half teasing, half something warmer. He’s turned on his side to give you and your bump enough room, an arm curled underneath you surely dead and the other still resting gently on your stomach. The air between you is warm, almost damp, too hot from napping together but neither of you willing to move away yet. 
You get lost in thought. The nice shape of his smile is distracting, especially still lax with the after effect of a good sleep. 
“What was your day like?” he asks eventually. 
“Just quiet.” You close your eyes and let them sting, tears collecting under your eyelids that you blink away. “I think the baby is making me really tired.” 
“Well, you’re making a baby. It’s hard,” he says. “Much easier to begin with.” 
You smile rather than laugh, too tired. “Way too easy. How was,” —you yawn wide, eyes watering yet again— “your day?” 
“A little less tiring than yours, obviously.” 
You rub your nose into his polo shirt. “Every shift is another pair of socks.” 
“This one’s worth more than that. A box of diapers for sure. And a couple of days of groceries, I guess.” He kisses your nose messily. “Got your vitamins on the way home.” 
“Thank you… Actually, my day was agitating. I have this itch between my shoulders I can’t reach.”
“Yeah?” he’s immediately interested. 
“Yeah, would you– yeah, to your– little more…” You drift off as his hand sneaks under your shirt and his nails find the awful evil itch that’s irking you. He knows exactly where to go from the slightest hitch on your breath, and he isn’t cute about it. He likely leaves scratch marks behind. It’s exactly what you needed. “Thank you so much.” 
He rubs the scratches with the side of his thumb to cover the pain until it’s faded. “You’re welcome, honey. I’m your guy. Itches, rashes, headaches, weird moles. I’m always gonna be your guy.” 
“Until the baby comes along ‘n then you're their guy.” 
“I guess so. I think you kind of…” You’re both so tired your conversation comes out slowly, but it comes. “…make that promise when you decide to have one. I’ll be her guy, but that’s not– I’m always gonna be here for you. I’m still gonna be your guy. You’ll have to share me, that’s all.” His nose crinkles with his smile. “I’m not gonna give you half, though. I’ll just have to double my efforts.” 
“Really?” you ask. You hadn’t realised you were worried until he mentioned it. 
“Duh, babe. Not gonna punish you for something I did to you.”
“This isn’t a punishment.” 
His fingers spread over your shoulder, skin on skin. “For sure not. I’m not talking about the baby, I mean me. The way I am. I’m not gonna choose her over you, I’m going to take care of you both.” 
His polo is easy to collect and squeeze in your hand as you tip into his chest. “You’ll have to choose her sometimes.” 
“So you admit it’s a her?” 
“I admit nothing, H.” 
“I’m on your side forever,” he promises, noses inclined together, your bump pressed to his abdomen. He’s hugging you like there’s nowhere else in the world to be. “I’m always gonna look after you.” He scratches your skin in emphasis, much kinder and longer strokes of his hand. “Always.” 
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moonstruckme · 3 months
Note
i’d love to see a doctor!remus with a reader that has chronic pain, if you’re interested in writing that <3
Thanks for requesting! I read online that migraines are considered chronic pain, so I hope that's accurate
cw: migraine, period cramps
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 726 words
The bed dips as Remus replaces the cold compress over your eyes, and you feel like you’re sandwiched between two temperatures, heating pad on your belly and ice pack on your head. 
“Can I have more painkillers, please?” you mumble. 
Remus’ voice is usually quiet, but now he speaks softer than soft. “You can have more in an hour.” 
A self-pitying ache starts up in the back of your throat. Which is great, because what you really need right now is more aches. “Can you pass me my coffee then?”
There’s a second of hesitation, and you can hear the denial forming in it. “It’s too late for caffeine,” he murmurs. “You need to sleep soon or it’ll only be worse tomorrow, lovely girl. I’m sorry.” 
He sounds it, but a petulant whine works its way out of you anyway. A hot tear leaks from the corner of your eye, dribbling into your hair. You know crying will only make things worse, but you’re feeling so wretchedly sorry for yourself that you almost don’t care. Worse isn’t something you can conceptualize.
“It hurts all over,” you whimper.
Remus makes a sound just as miserable, and then his hand is at your hairline, stroking tentatively. “I know,” he whispers. “I know, I’m so sorry. Do you need the heating pad turned up?” 
You murmur that you don’t. Your cramps aren’t great, but they pale in comparison to the throbbing agony of your head. And even if it helped your cramps, you don’t think you could handle the sensation of more temperatures right now. 
“Okay.” Remus pets your hair gently, callouses scraping against the skin of your forehead. “All right, darling, let’s try this.” 
He takes your hand in his, and you can feel the edge of his short nail as he presses into your palm, rubbing tiny, concentrated circles into your skin. For a minute you can’t muster the will to ask what he’s doing, but then the pain ebbs slightly, and you find your voice. 
“What’s this?” 
“Pressure point. Is it helping?” 
“I think so.” Not a ton, but it’s something. You force yourself to relax the muscles around your eyes, and that helps a bit too. “Thank you,” you breathe. 
Remus makes a soft sound, catching another tear as it skids down your face. His thumb still drills into that place on your palm. It hurts a tiny bit, but not near enough for you to ask him to stop. “It kills me to see you like this,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry I can’t do more.” 
“Yeah, couldn’t you get me some morphine or something?” 
The little laugh that follows is odd-sounding, like he’s stifled it with a hand. “Actually, it might be worth losing my license for that. If you really want me to, just say the word.” 
“I’ll let you know.” 
There’s a few seconds where you can only hear each other breathing. It’s always a little bit weird, knowing he can see you when you can’t see him. You wonder, distantly, shamefully, if you look pretty. There’s no sense in asking Remus. You know what he’ll say. 
“Can I touch you?’ he asks quietly. 
“You’ve been touching me, Lupin.” 
Another half-smothered chuckle. Remus’ hand rests delicately on the top of your head, his thumb stroking an upward path along your forehead. You hum in approval. 
“If you go to sleep now,” he says softly, thumb lifting from your hand, “your headache might be gone when you wake up.” 
You take a deep breath, gauging your own tiredness. You think you can do it. 
“And so long as you sleep for more than an hour, I promise to get out of bed to get you more painkillers.” 
“You’d better,” you mutter, and you can feel his smile against your skin when he leans down to kiss your cheek. “Hug me?” 
You intend for it to sound light, almost like a joke, but the question comes out laden with all the neediness you’d hoped to hide. Remus doesn’t begrudge you, one arm needling under the small of your back while the other wraps across your ribcage. He scoots closer until your arm is pressed to his front. 
“This okay?” 
“Better than okay. Thanks, Rem.” 
His lips brush delicately across your cheekbone, the soft bit of skin just next to your eye. “Don’t mention it.”
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