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zipperzoo · 2 years

Text

RESTLESS SOUL

Sandman (2022) Morpheus x f!reader

Word count: - 10.3k

AO3 / SONG Fanfic Masterpost

Themes: Historical, Dreaming, One-shot, Tudor England, Slow Dancing, Yearning, Strangers to friends to lovers, Bitter Sweet,

Summary: The year is 1547. Henry the VIII has just died and one of his mistresses of the night remains alone, and in her loneliness she find an unlikely person to keep her company in her dreams.

A/N: HAD A BLAST WRITING THIS YOU HAVE NO IDEA HAVE FUN! A/N - 28/08/22: Edits and clean ups have been made as there were a bunch of mistakes.

England, 28th January 1547

The death of two powerful European kings brought the kingdoms to a halt. King Henry the VIII laid on his deathbed surrounded by his closest men and women, including his sick son who was next to rule. They all sobbed and wailed. It was an unspoken contest at who could display the most sorrow and loss.

Henry watched outside of his own body. Standing beside himself studying carefully those who grieve him. Most of the grief was not for him, but for the country, for the fear of the unknown of what is to become of his empire after his death.

He held the hand of a black woman who was dressed in fine fabrics. Wearing red wine cotton and golden details as well as a headdress decorated like a halo for she was the angel to guide him to the paradise that awaited him. She smiled warmly at him, encouraging him to not linger. The soft grace of her words he envied as all his wives had never been as caring or as ethereal as she was to him.

“Will you promise me that my son will be in good health?” Henry asked. “That his sickness will not take him so young?”

Death just smiled at him. “You both will meet again soon.” she said just vaguely enough to be comforting. “Catherine is waiting for you.” she stated, starting to sound like a lifelong friend. She knew his favourite wife had been his first and she also knew that Henry wouldn't be going where Cathrine was.

Death had found Henry to be an immoral man, filled with greed and shame. Despite that and his wrongs in murder, Death had found his wife, Anne Boline to be a polite soul. Helping the late queen in her last moments, she found her to be witty and kind. Watching her graphic and unjust death take place knowing she was innocent was hard, it was even too hard to stomach for the personification of demise.

The king would be joining Francis, the first of France in hell. To burn for eternity under Lucifer's rule as they both will dream, hope and yearn for the paradise they were promised while they actually lived it in life. For their desire caused despair, destruction and even death. Henry had paved out his destiny while relishing in delight but now they can only dream as that is all they have left in hell.

After all, all one can do in hell in hope and dream.

For now, Death will show him kindness, to be his last friend as she walks him through to the beyond.

All while, in the far corner was a woman. She watched cradling herself as her king, her companion in the night remained lifeless in his four post grandstanding bed. The translucent fabric curtain filtered over his remains, making him ghost-like. Death noticed her and she noticed death.

“His skin is like cotton!” cried out a chambermaid collapsing to her knees.

“Our king… He has passed.” announced the priest dropping the bible to his lap.

The woman in the corner choked back a sob. Tonight this woman will try and dream of a better place outside of the castle. A better place outside of the court.

She was no longer within the protective grasp of the king.

Later that night

Laying in her bed, wide awake as the moonlight beamed through the Windsor Castle windows. The woman was restless, shifting and rolling in her bed fearing the unknown. She was nothing but a mistress to the king and with him now dead, her fate was unknown. She could live a lavish life in the castle or be passed around to the next man. Or worse, something unimaginable or so harsh her mind couldn't even comprehend it.

Henry wasn’t a great lover, he was charismatic yes but like any old man, he was caught up in his need to remain in control, to have power and let it be known he was a man. The face of masculinity. It was hard to believe that this man wrote poems, had a heart full of love but was ravished by a desire of lust.

Sitting up the creek of the bed thundered through the large room. The small trinkets and jewels that were eliminated by the bright white of the moonlight caught her eye. Rubbing her eyes raw as sleep refused to visit, she glanced at the gifts.

She hated them.

Henry had gifted her with these in hope to win his way to bed with her and they did. She was just a girl in his wife’s court that dreamed of love, passion and adventure.

She was stupidly naive but also she was just a girl.

The trinkets were scattered all over her dresser, diamonds, gems and even rubies. It was a treasure trove to make a pirate jealous. All of them were real and most likely imported from abroad.

After accepting these she learnt rather fast he did this to any woman that caught his eye. She wasn't the only one in the castle that he laid at night with- who knew him in marriage.

She wasn't special.

The hours swept by and she still remained restless. She wished for sleep to sweep her away to dreamland. To escape and maybe to never to awake and see what is in store for her for the future. For what would happen to her.

“How is it that you're here?” asked a deep voice, a whisper that was harsh and carried weight. A soothing whisper that could be a lullaby for those in a mellow state.

She hadn’t noticed but she was no longer in her room. Shifting where she stood to have her nightgown ripple around her. This wasn't her room, or anywhere in the castle? One minute she was in her large room, empty with personality but filled with meaningless objects and furniture. Nothing that was really to call her own, to now stand in a large and long throne room. Surrounded by books and moving grass windows.

It was cold, intimidating and isolating. With so much space of course one would do nothing but cower into themselves.

“Where am I?” She whispered mainly to herself but also to the peculiar disembodied voice.

“The dreaming.” there it was again. That voice, It sounded like he was inside her head, a loud thought.

“Am I asleep?” she asked, turning around to get a better idea of the space she was occupying to then find herself face to face with the source of the voice. A man draped in black with unkempt hair, standing there like a looming threat. He remained still, alone, contrasting with the architecture. One word came to mind when looking at him. Lonely.

In response to her question he just gave a slight nod. Betraying nothing from his expression she gave a sigh of relief and smiled. Letting out a very sincere smile.

“Oh thank god!” she yelled, bending over and clasping her hands together. Eyes full of wonder like a young child as her eyes explored along the endless walls of novels and books. The man frowned. “I was so worried that I would never sleep again. Punished to remain awake for the rest of my life for the sins I've committed!”

“You think you would be deprived of dreaming because of your sins?”

“God doesn't approve of lust and desire. It's not for a woman to want but to be wanted and I have done nothing but yearn my entire life.” she confessed.

“You, Y/N, have done nothing but dream.”

“How do you know my name?” she asked, slightly startled. “Are you… Are you god- Did I die in my sleep and be doomed forever to dream?” Shuffling back a little. The cold rock of the floor sent a shiver up her spine. Goosebumps dancing their way up her arms to her neck. The idea of dreaming for eternity seemed like a blissful gift but a horrifying one when faced with reality.

“No. If you would have died, you would have met my elder sibling but instead you are in my presence tonight. Rest easy.” Although sounding calm, he was flabbergasted and offended by a mortal that had dreamt herself to his council.

“Why am I here?” she asked, hinting not at the dreaming but for the fact of being in his presence.

“That… I would like to find out for myself.”

29th January 1547

The sun rose, flooding the emotionally distant room with warmth. Y/N rose, tired. The sleep was not filling enough. She could roll over and begin her year of rest and relaxation right now, disguise her anxiety and depression as grief.

A Little disappointed that she wasn’t actually dead and ‘doomed’ to sleep forever. The longer she thought about it the more it sounded like an actual relief. That strange man had peaked her interest.

Surrounded by pillows and blankets, she looked like an angel that had just awoken on a cloud, ready to start her duty of crying soft mournful tears. A face of sadness for the loss of the king but her eyes were dry and heavy.

“Ma’am, did you have a plentiful slumber?” questioned a maid waddling in, holding a pot of water and a rag hanging off the side. Another follows behind with a mourning dress. Black with white and dark brown details, as expected for a period of bereavement of the king. The entire country would be dressed so as the news is rapidly rolled out.

“I managed but- I had the strangest dream?”

“What was the dream milady?” placing the pot to the side, to then signal the woman to stand up out of the bed, ready to be washed down and dressed.

“I dreamed of a man, dressed all in black? He was surprised I was there but reassured me I hadn’t died.” Y/N scooted out of bed then made her way over to her dressing table to allow the maids to undress her. “He was so life-like, so real. He wasn't dressed like any man of our country.”

“We’ve had enough death’s. I was worried you’d fade into the night with a broken heart for our fallen king. Maybe you were visited by an angel.” one of the maids spoke out, shaking the dress out, letting any dust that fell onto it fly into the air, catching the sunlight appearing like snow. Y/N was captivated.

“I was worried I’d die for different reasons. But this man I dreamt- he was kind although he seemed distant and cold. Something told me that he had a large heart.”

“You dreamt of a man?” the other maid asked, only now just realizing what Y/N was discussing.

“Yes-” she tried to back track. “Just as Elizbeth had said- possibly an angel to reassure my grieving state that the king has passed safely!”

“Hmm.” Let out the maid, “Sounds like something to mention in confession ma’am.”

“I’m just… missing our late king.” lowering her head and wetting her lips. It is a sin to want, to desire as a woman. Women would judge each other and no one was safe from judgment.

Later that night

All day, she had been looking forward to this. To see her dreaming man again.

At church during the preacher's rants and being around the queen as she mourned had been tormenting. The women of the court sat around gossiping, discussing the king’s life, Y/N had sat there pondering. Letting her mind wander to her interaction with the mysterious man. Although he was nothing but a dream she would conjure him up again tonight she couldn't help but feel nervous. She ached to make a friend out of him. Her dream would be her escape from the waking world that was slowly falling around her. As mad as it sounded she found refuge in the idea.

In bed, once again she laid restless and wide awake. Tossing and turning. Anger bloomed in her chest as she grew more and more impatient with the lack of sleep brewing.

Throwing up her arms to the drop onto the bed in defeat. Sighing loudly. Sighing again but louder.

“Can I not even sleep or dream on my own accord now?” she moaned rolling over to her side.

Watching the moonlight bath her room. Captivated by the contrast, the colour of he white crashing with the dark. Her mind wondered how in dark times even the smallest light would break through. A philosophical thought that brought her subtle amusement.

A silhouette fluttered into the moonlight. Shifting and sitting up in surprise to snap around to look at the window.

There, cutting the light from her room, stood a raven. The Raven turned its head, appearing to get a decent view of her- watching her.

Pulling back her covers, slipping out of bed and tip-toeing up at the window to try and capture a better look- remaining cautious to not scare the creature away.

Ravens were common in England, they often meant death was coming or a bad omen. She had once read that they warded off evil spirits and she hoped the latter was the case now. The bird’s brilliant black fur reminded her of the man she dreamt of. His hair shined just like the beak of this animal. The eyes glassy and void- like a black hole absorbs all light and did so of her image.

Placing her hand steadily onto the glass to where the raven sat. Gifting the creature a soft smile- a welcoming smile.

She was actually glad she wasn't asleep right now because if so she wouldn't have had this small interaction but this was a distraction for something she yearned for; Another encounter with last night's dream.

“Her name is Jessamy.”

The sudden voice pierced through the silence she wasn't aware she was in. It was him- the man from her dream.

It was like a wish was granted.

She spun around, so fast in excitement and shock that she almost tripped over her own feet. Stumbling, placing her hands out in front of herself in an attempt to stable herself. She had a big stupid grin on her face, excited and thrilled to hear that voice again.

Standing still like a statue, but as beautiful as the statue of David. He didn't move, not even to help her.

“You're here! Am I dreaming?”

“This time, you're not dreaming.”

“How is it possible that you're here then? I must be dreaming! I must have dozed off and dreamed of that Raven!” Looking over her shoulder to inspect the raven once more to then find it no longer at the window. Instead the only view was the swaying and rattle of the trees to the caress of the wind's touch. The raven must have flown off, scared from the sudden and rapid movement in the room. Excitement had washed from Y/N’s face.

“I am here because this time I wished to pay you a visit. You remained restless so waiting in the dreaming realm would have been a waste of my time.” He sounded like one of the priests- blunt and straight to the point.

Maybe she was just projecting her lonely feelings onto this strange manifestation- maybe he wasn't as lonely as she thought with his wise words that sounded distant. She wanted a friend so desperately in the castle walls she conjured up a friend. Or worse, summoned a demon disguised as an angel who wanted something from her as a trade for his time.

Realization and reality was sinking in. “Why pay me a visit?”

“I wish to walk with you.”

Twisting around and shooting an inquisitive glance his way. “A walk? Right now?!”

“You're no stranger to sneaking around in the night. Especially with the king.” That silenced her questioning. He was mean. That was cold and uncalled for but more importantly he had said what everyone in the castle had known, he had said it aloud. She had never heard it out loud and it sounded gross and vile.

She felt dirty.

With just a nod of consent. The man had offered his arm to hold, offering to be her escort. She gracefully accepted with spite, only touching the fabric of his coat with her arm looped around his.

They wandered out of her room. Only in her nightgown holding a candle to light their path as he took the lead. The light illuminated her face while he remained in the dark, she stole glances of his features. White as ice skin contrasting with his black hair but he looked as restless as she did. The bags under his eyes are heavy and sharp.

“Where are we going?”

“Nowhere specifically. I just wished to have you as company.” he had spent the majority of her waking hours looking into her life. Her entire waking and sleeping existence. She had little to no records of dreams and from the walking records she lived a solitude life. She was an enigma. Dream had hoped paying her a visit or spending time with her would help lift his fog of mystery.

“Company isn't really pleasant if it's forced.”

“You seemed thrilled by the idea of meeting me again, on top of that you consented to this.” The way he spoke and carried every word felt like law. The confidence he held but also the words that carried like wind delivering a cooling breeze to ease the hot skin on a hot evening.

She scanned around. Not a single soul was awake, not a singular sound can be heard besides the pitter patter of her bare feet on the cold floor. The man she was with didn't even make a sound in his movements as if he was a shadow, a lingering thought.

“Who are you?” she inquired looking up at him.

“I go by many names. Prince of Stories, Morpheus-”

“Are you a messenger of god?”

“No. I am not here to punish you for your nights you laid with the king instead of dreaming. I am here for my own amusement.” It was like he read her mind. Easing her of the anxiety that she assumed he was here to reap her of sin.

“Why me?” He would be lying to himself if he did not admit the constant questions didn’t irritate him a little. Humans had the habit of constant inquiries. Why must they feel the need to know everything?

They approached the main staircase of the castle. The open part of the entire building. Cold and empty it was home to awaiting nightmares and demons. She inched the candle closer to her, as if it was a force field protecting her. Anything that would come into her light would perish and burst into flames.

“You caught my attention the last time you fell into a slumber. You dreamed yourself into my throne room.” He stopped at the door, letting go of her to drift towards the main door.

Blinking, knitting her brows together and lowering the light from her face a little as the man pushed the door ajar. Waiting for her.

Upon opening the door, it swept the night’s crisp breeze in with dead leaves walking inside.

“I’m sorry for all the questions but I am in the presence of a strange man. I must ask who you are and what you intend to do with me?”

Hanging back, he answered her. “I have already said. I am the personification of dreams, I am the manifestation of life’s wandering mind. I have no intentions with you besides a walk at night.”

“I must apologize once again for asking idiotic questions but there is always a motive to one’s actions. Especially with men.”

“You’ve been around rich and powerful men with cruel intentions for far too long to know actual kindness when you're faced with it.”

She was too stunned to speak but she forced her voice to muster up another “How can I trust you?”

He held out his hand and on his face, grew a heart melting smile. One that is not human but angelic, ethereal and god like. The Greek goddess Aphrodite would even envy such a charming smile. “I don't expect you to, but I’ve given you a safe space in your dreams your entire life without you even knowing. Let me give you one night of company where sex will not be expected, as it has become a custom to you with the king. Instead you can have a friend to keep you company in your grieving hours. You’ll dream and rest easy.”

Lifting her hand, she hesitated, searching this strange man’s gaze for any sign that his words are lies but instead she saw that smile. She caught her heart beat in her throat.

“Are we friends?”

“We can be.” he reassured.

She reached out and took his hand.

The moment she took his hand, his skin, her eyes blinked awake. She found herself in her bed showered in the morning light. She was dreaming. Of course she was dreaming. Her new friend was only in her dreams as her waking life was void of anything that kind and comforting.

The way the dream ended felt like she couldn't have the enjoyment of touching him. Or was it a test to see if she was loyal to the king and their secret nights?

Oddly enough, she could still remember the man’s face, and his smile as clear as sunshine. It made her chest ache. The last time she felt this sensation was when she received poems and gifts from the king in her naïve years.

The king… Oh god, she had forgotten about him and his passing. Caught up in the thrill of her dreams she had forgotten him and his funeral that was vastly approaching. With that and the coronation of the new king. His son.

Throwing the covers over her head to hide, desperately trying to get back to sleep, to continue her dream that was rudely interrupted by the grace of the morning. “Our meeting was cut short you cruel man” mumbled.

Squeezing her eyes shut, putting all hope and focus into drifting into sleep. Opening one eye she was disappointed to realize she was still in her bed.

The waking world.

Even pinching herself, the pain was solid proof that she was awake. She knew she was dreaming earlier. Their stroll around the castle was only a dream.

He wasn’t real.

3rd February 1547

Walking through the halls at night with nothing but a candle in her hand and a small book in the other, Y/N set out to adventure through the library. The king's funeral was to take place in a few days and she wished to say a prayer for him to pass safely to the afterlife but most importantly for the new king. Prince Edward was sick and very weak and he needed God's help to take over such a powerful country. The least she could do was pray for him.

“Where are you going so late in the night ma’am?” asked a servant that was passing by. The sudden disturbance caused Y/N to jump. Dropping her small book to steady the candle in her grasp.

“You scared me!”

“Apologies! It's just unexpected to see you out and about. You're normally with the queen and her court grieving in her room. It's unexpected to see you about… and alone so late?” The servant bent over and gracefully picked up the book. Catching a glimpse of the cover “Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.” The maid wiped the cover and then returned it gingerly to Y/N.

“I just wished to say a prayer for the new king.” As well as research into her mysterious dream man. Since that night he had lied to her about being in a dream. She hadn’t seen him since. Every night she went to slumber she was met with nothing but darkness. She desperately ached to see him again.

“Be careful ma’am. There's gossip traveling around the castle.” The servants face plastered with concern and worry.

“Hm? What kind of gossip?” Y/N frowned, face scrunched up with anxiety.

Shaking her head the servant said. “Don’t worry about it ma’am. It's only gossip.”

Y/N reached out and grabbed the book from the servant. And spoke up before she could leave. “Can- Mind if I ask a rather ridiculous question?”

The servant blinked, opened her mouth but nothing came out as she hanged on her words for a moment. Finally she responded. “Sure ma’am.”

“Do you have dreams? At night when you sleep?”

“Doesn't everyone?”

“What do you dream about?”

“Well… I don't remember most of my dreams but when I do it's about what it's like to live within the court. I must admit I am envious of you ma’am. That or I dream about my teeth falling out.” Coughing to clear her throat, feeling awkward from her confession. “What do you dream about ma'am?”

“I must confess, I rarely dream. As of late I have only really dreamt of a strange man.” unaware of what subtle meaning that had, the servant blushed and diverted her gaze away from Y/N. “He is like a friend. I want him to be a friend but when we seem to just break the ice I’m pulled back to the waking world. I find myself alone in my room.”

Wetting her lips, the Servant wasn’t exactly too sure how to respond. “Do you miss the king ma’am?”

“Huh? I um.. I do, yes.” She lied.

“Now you're no longer a mistress, marriage is maybe what your heart desires? That could explain why you're suddenly dreaming of men.” Taken aback by the servants' words Y/N took those words of offense.

Maybe her loneliness and hunger for affection and companionship did conjure up this man as she had previously thought. Was he not the personification of dreams as he said but just a fragment of her imagination.

She felt like she was slowly losing grips of reality the longer she pondered it.

The servant, not wanting to continue the strange conversation, gave her a very polite smile, nodding her head in respect and then proceeded to walk off, leaving Y/N there alone in candle light.

Until Y/N cut her off. “What kind of gossip is traveling around the castle?”

“Ma’am-”

“Tell me.”

The servant thought about it, looked around to make sure no prying ears lingered then spoke. “”You really don't want to know, milady.”

“I wish to know.”

“…The queen believes you’re planning treason against the prince.”

“What?- How on ear-”

“You're restless nights and recent wandering has a lot of people suspicious. On top of that you were the mistress of the late king. It has a lot of people talking ma’am.” Blurting it out, as if the words itself were poison. Evicting it from her body, letting the words just fall out informally.

Y/N, stunt, said “Do you believe this gossip?”

“Of course not ma’am but…”

“But?” she hung on every word.

“It doesn't matter if I believe it or not. It's for the queen and the church to decide. Let's hope it doesn't reach the church.” she whispered. Acting like the word church was a bad word.

Y/N drew back. Letting the servant pass. The waking world was conspiring against her. “There is nothing they can do. There is no proof of such lies.”

“They’ve executed people for just conspiracies of-”

“Thank you.” She cut her off. “Thank you for being honest with me, and keeping me company in this brief moment but I wish to be alone now.”

Later that night

“It’s you.” she mumbled, relieved. Y/N had fallen asleep somehow because there he was, the man she dreamt of. After days of darkness in the night she was finally rewarded with a visit from him in her slumber.

She was in a dark space with nothing for miles but her and him. He stood there, towering over her as she mirrored him in her evening dress. Emerald with golden details. Fine fabrics from Spain.

She had purposefully chosen to wear her best, she had for the past few nights hoping to look her most presentable for him. For her tall, dark and handsome mystery.

“It’s me,” he responded.

“Why did you lie to me? Why did you cut our meeting short?” she snapped, putting all her focus onto him and only him. Despite being surrounded by an endless void- something she grew accustomed to from when she did manage to sleep at night.

“I didn't lie to you. You weren't dreaming.” he was being honest.

“But how did I wake up? From an already woken state?” Drawing a step back and folding her hands over her chest.

Raising both of his hands, he looked at his palms, slowly turning and inspecting himself. He knitted his brows together, showing confusion to his own being, own flesh. She watched baffled, uncertain that he heard her, she took a step closer and repeated herself.

He held out his hand to stop her drawing any closer. “The moment you touched me, I found myself in the dreaming, by the gates alone.”

“So?”

“May I test something?” he asked, lowering his hand to then take a step closer towards her. Her eyes widened from surprise. All she could do was nod in response.

Taking confident steps closer towards her leaving little to no room between them, all she could do was stare up at him. He looked down at her, betraying no emotion.

No man had been those close to her ever- besides the late king. Her eyes glued to his unwavering. He stared back at her, unphased and coldly. Her stomach developed an entire generation of butterflies. They fluttered and smacked themselves around in her gut.

Raising a single hand he steadily drew his hand closer to her cheek. Laying a singular finger on her tender flesh gracefully. She felt a softness, a gentle ghost-like sensation from his subtle touch.

Then suddenly she awoke in her bed. Alone. Ripped away from her small dream.

Gasping from the thrill, the single touch was ecstatic.

Sinking into her cloud like bed, she couldn't help but hear an orchestra perform in her head. Replaying that small glimpse of a touch he had given her. It was exciting. He had barely touched her but in a way it was more stimulating than the king’s rough and hard touches had ever been.

For the first time in years she felt electric.

8th February 1547

Sat besides the queen, Y/N held her prayer book in a tight grip. She was reading verses of a poem aloud for the entire court of women. Usually during this time they would all huddle with the king's court and entertain themselves with gambling and musical entertainment. But with the passing of the king and time of mourning such activities were not to take place until after the funeral.

In a room decorated with tapestries of passages of the bible and of passed royalties. Y/N felt like she was being watched by not just the women in the room but those painted on the stained glass and woven into the fabrics.

“Y/N, I’ve heard you’ve been dreaming of a man.” said the queen, with a hint of taunt.

Pausing at the sentence she was reading, Y/N was caught by surprise. “P-pardon?”

“I’ve heard you’ve been dreaming of a man. Have you already set eyes on someone for marriage?” Candle light only made half of her face visible in the evening’s darkness. Her eyes shined with curiosity for gossip of her fellow women.

“Marriage is impossible for him and I, your highness, as he isn't real.” The court of women snickered.

“Not real? Is he a fictional man in a novel you’ve been wandering around at night reading?” She laughed. “Is no mortal man enough to feed your hunger?” She was digging into her already gaping wound. Was the king not enough for you? Is what she wanted to really say.

“I have to admit, the way he is written, he has captured my attention but because he is not real there is no way for me to love him.” Defensive, Y/N found offense at the teasing taking place. She of course meant her mysterious dreaming man.

“What if he was real?” The room fell quiet at the Queen’s question.

With little to no room to think on it, Y/N had everyone gawking at her. “Maybe… I never thought about it? I only ever considered him a stranger. Only recently a friend.”

“A fictional character?” Spoke up the queen, in a judgemental tone.

“What book is it?” asked one of the ladies, trying to be polite in the sea of judgment the queen had crafted.

Y/N hesitated, scrambling for a book title to come to mind then suddenly “Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.” Clearing her throat as her eyes wandered from woman to woman for a reaction. One lady clasped her hands together.

“A classic! I am rather fond of the Green Knight myself!”

“I think she was referring to Sir Gawain, the protagonist who is naturally very charismatic.”

“But isn't the thrill supposed to be aimed at the immortal one rather than the boring man?”

“Is there something you wish to confess to us?” all eyes were aimed at the woman who sat beside the queen. She stumbled and stuttered at her words.

The chatter about the novel managed to distract everyone from the original intention of the conversation. Y/N hid within herself and continued to read unaware that the queen had her eye on her. Watching her movements with caution.

“Y/N which one of the men caught your attention?” one of the ladies rested her chin on her hand, eager for Y/N’s response.

“I… I see a friend in the Green Knight. He is dark and mysterious and we hardly know anything about him. That captures my attention.”

“I would have assumed you’d like Sir Gawain for he is married.” The queen wasn’t being subtle anymore. Y/N glared at the queen who returned a glare also. The room was tense. They both knew the king in similar fashion but the only difference was the queen was married to him while Y/N was not. Y/N hadn’t loved him either while the queen had.

“Maybe Y/N can read aloud a verse from the Sir Gawain and the Green Knight poem? Or cite a verse she remembers?” asked one of the ladies, hoping to cut a fine knife through the tension.

Without breaking the sharp glare between Y/N and the queen, Y/N closed her book and cleared her throat. Scratching her memory, a verse she remembered well she spoke aloud “All green bedight that knight, and green his garments fair, A narrow coat that clung straight to his side he ware-”

Without warning, guards stormed into the queen's quarters room, interrupting Y/N. All the ladies jumped up onto their feet dropping the books they held. The queen herself rose up from where she sat, darting a stern stare at the guards who had intruded her private space. Y/N twisted her head around to the door in horror.

“What's the meaning of this?” Confidently the queen spoke with anger.

“Pardon your highness. We have been given strict orders to arrest Y/N. She is to be transferred to the tower of London.”

“Whatever for?” the queen challenged.

“She is to be put on trial for the conspiracy of treason towards the prince and future king of England Edward VI.”

Following the sudden news, all the women gasped and turned to face Y/N who stood there in horror- speechless. The gossip had reached the church- it had reached the men.

Y/N couldn't help but catch the queen’s minuscule grin. It was like a play that had been perfectly rehearsed.

“I have done no such crime!” Shaking her head, utterly shocked, this cannot be real.

Without another word, guards flooded in one by one. Two stood besides her and grabbed her arms. In an attempt to shake them off they only tighten their grip. She wasn’t going to be able to get free.

As they escorted her out of the room, looking behind her at all the women and the queen. None of them came to fight for her defence of innocence. They all just watched.

They were never her friends.

If they were her friends, her fellow sisters. They would fight or defend her. They all instead just gawked at her arrest. Gossiping and whispering.

Later that night

In a desperate attempt to sleep, she laid there wide awake in her new bed. It seemed tonight was going to be another restless night without meeting her dream friend.

Staring up at the ceiling, the cracking bricks that trickled dust onto her bed was the least of her concerns with the constant chatter of those outside her room.

It was useless to just lay in a prisoner's bed and wait. Slowly she rolled out of bed to then sit on the floor, void of carpet or any softness but the hard and coarse worn slabs. No luxuries or comforts were for those in the tower.

Looking up at the window, with only the moon as a guest she tried to remember the plot of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. How the story could fit so similarly in narrative and themes to her night time friend.

“Luna, have you seen my friend? He is tall, dark and very handsome. The last time I saw him he gifted me with a single touch on the-” she imitated him from that dream, letting her finger stray and stroke a line on her cheek. Her eyes wavered, she must have been swayed by the devil to speak to herself like this. “Maybe It's my solitude that has made me find a friend in a stranger that shows the bare minimum and the slight kindness. After all, I barely know him.”

Looking down at her lap, helpless, her mind raced on what could have been.

A small scratching noise could be heard from the window. Squinting and peaking up, there she saw the raven. Not just any old raven but the one she remembered from before- she could tell by the way it watched her- its movements. The raven gave a little shake, a silly way to display that she meant no harm to Y/N.

Although she wouldn't be able to sleep or go to the dreaming, she wouldn’t be alone.

8th February 1547

She stood there, in a large white and black room. Standing at the defendant’s stand, faced with the king’s court, those who made the law. Those who followed the whispers of god. She swallowed and sniffled. Y/N had to stay strong, for herself and her pride.

“Y/N L/N, you stand here faced with the accusations of conspiring treason against the Prince of England. Witnesses and even the queen have stood trial against you.” The queen, the woman she would spend some of her days and restless nights beside as she mourned her husband. She didn't like Y/N of course for her relationship with the king. Such pettiness and jealousy was normal and with the king out of the picture, this was likely to happen.

Y/N was more surprised about how fast the queen took to take action.

“You’ve come to the stand with no evidence to go along with your claim of innocence yet you swear by the lord that you are not guilty.”

If the queen had requested for her to disappear, to go to another country she would have in a heartbeat. This elaborate ruse to frame her for a crime during such a delicate time was far from just getting her out of the picture.

It felt like revenge.

“Master Cromwell- read out the indictment.” In a room surrounded by men, too many men as she was the only woman standing in the center. Her stomach churned and squeezed. The stress, she could easily just faint right now from the stress.

“The charges, in the 36th year in the reign of our late sovereign, Henry king of England. Y/N, The duchess of (county in England) and beloved friend of Queen Katherine Parr. Seduced by the devil and knowingly ployed a plot of treason- an offense against god.”

“How do you plead?”

She didn't reply at first as it felt like she had lost her voice. Somewhere deep within her, her voice hid. Cowering and crying at the power these men held over her. No matter what she said, this led to one thing. “Not guilty” she squeaked out. “You have all judged me wrongly, for the greatest judge- death herself knows my innocence as does god.”

“The time has come to pass judgment.”

One by one, all the men rose and repeated after one another “Guilty.” and each time it felt like a hammer and sickle slowly chipping away at her world, at her heart.

Later that night

“My girl.” he called out with a ghost of a friendly smile.

She was dreaming once again. She yearned for him as it felt like forever since she saw him in her dreams. Her waking world was nothing but loneliness and waiting. Waiting for her last moments as the clock ticked.

“My mysterious man.” She approached him. She wondered. Did he know of her upcoming doom- that she was to be executed for something she wasn't even guilty of. In the eyes of the law and the church she wasn’t innocent, she was a tyrant, a criminal. The accusation had flaws, She never even formally met him; the child was always hidden away sick. The one occasion she met the child was on the king’s deathbed.

Not wanting to ruin the rare occasion she had with her friend, she remained silent on the matter.

They both were not in the darkness she was accustomed to or in the dreaming realm she first met him in. Instead they were in the ballroom of Windsor castle. Wall to wall were oil paintings, portraits of past kings that were decorated in their best golden jewels and crowns. Showing off their owned possessions in a very expensive display of talent.

Curtains draped over the windows that only let a lick of moonlight flood in reflecting off the golden frames of the paintings.

“May I make a request of you?” she inquired, rather shyly. He didn't respond verbally, he tipped his head only slightly to the side and relaxed his hard stare. He wanted to hear this request of hers. “Can we dance tonight?”

“We cannot touch Y/N. A single touch and you’ll awake and I’ll be sent back to my realm.”

That explains why the first time she took his hand she was snatched away from him, and the time he touched her cheek. It was to test his theory. Placing her hand on her cheek she was smacked with the vivid image of the dance she had seen in the exact place they stand. A few years back.

Beaming, she responded “We don't have to touch to dance!” Raising her right hand up into the air. “We can hover!”

“Hover?” raising a single brow finding amusement at that. She smiled at that.

“You’ll place a hand over mine, inches away- not touching! We look at each other and then we-” to demonstrate she followed a pattern of a dance from memory on the floor. One hand wrapped around her back as she went left right left and then right. Stopping, bowing before him and looking back up at him with a grin. “Like so!”

“You wish for me to do that, to dance with you? Why do humans love such lively activities so much?” Little did he know, she requested it because she wanted something small to keep her going until she stood on that stand and stood face to face with the executioner.

“Please?” she begged, avoiding his strange question.

Giving in to her plea, he placed his left hand behind his back then raised his right hand up. She gleefully skipped over to him and mirrored him. He didn't hold up too much of a fight, Y/N couldn't help but think that was too easy.

In complete silence they began to dance. Hands hovering over each other, just almost a hair between them. Y/N could feel the heat radiating from his palm and it made hers sweat.

Walking in a circle, their wrists crossed with only Dream’s jacket playing the role of a protective barrier. She smiled at him, a wide and whimsical smile.

Swallowing, she carefully lowered her smile and found herself lost in his dark eyes. Locked into his stare. They didn't feel empty- hey look clouded in deep thought and she wished to know what he was thinking.

With her throat dry from nerves she uttered. “What are you thinking about?”

“Out of anything you could possibly dream for. You dream of emptiness, loneliness and an endless void. You wish to not be awake yet you purposefully avoid dreams.”

“What?”

“Why else would a singular touch from me force you awake.”

“I don’t know.” she honestly didn't know. Everything to her was jaded and isolating and she didn't dare dream when she did, it felt like everything was out to get her. These very limited and small pockets of time with this man were paradise to her.

A beat of silence. “You raise a lot of questions.”

“As do you. I am beyond questioning our meetings and I just… Enjoy them as they come. Why question something that seems rare and fantastical at the same time?”

Dream laughed up a chalky response. She was right. It had no impact on the dreaming or his realm. It seems to just be an anomaly, one that he had the pleasure of entertaining himself with. “I’ve lived a long life, I’ve come to learn of some strange and wonderful things that the universe and humanity has been willing to share with me. I’ve come to realize it's better to learn them than to let them drift.”

Y/N inhaled and then exhaled, letting her face soften. “Then may I request that we just enjoy this while it lasts.”

“For now. I’ll do as you've asked, since you asked so politely.”

They continued to dance in silence, waving in and out just avoiding each other's tender flesh. Despite burning from the close impact they remained in control and composed.

It felt like hours but time was ticking and she couldn't stay like this forever, as much as she wished it could just be the two of them like this for eternity where she’ll be free. To never face the executioner. She had to face reality.

It pained her to do so but she stopped. Dream stopped also, confused at her sudden halt. Her hand trembled in the air as she contemplated on her next move. She knew what she had to do, but it ached in her left breast to even think about it.

Her lips part, and her jaw locked. She didn't want to go. She never wanted to leave him. She made a friend, someone she could spend an empty moment with and enjoy herself, to forget about her troubles and to feel whole.

Clasping his hand, squeezing it within her own. Dream looked over at their hands that were intertwined and before he could look back at her she had woken up.

Once again she was in the waking world. Not in her bed this time, in a cell in the tower of London. Alone and cold.

Letting her eyes flutter shut to hold back the tears. She had just begun to find a peace of life worth living and now it was going to be taken from her. It felt like she was too late to want this man, it was her punishment to be so close to something she wanted and yet be so far.

9th February 1547

In the tower, in a confined space there wasn't much she could do. She was told through a letter that tomorrow was the day. They hadn’t even been kind enough to get her a master swordsman trained with a sword. Instead she would get a local swordsman who on record had to hack away at someone's neck several times to get their head detached.

The thought was horrifying on its own.

Worry lines formed on her brow as she reread the letter over and over. The words “It was your own doing.” Had imprinted itself onto her frontal lobe. Her own doing?

She was just a woman wanting more from life. The tragedy of being taken advantage of by the king and his passing allowed his jealous queen to have her revenge. In hindsight it seemed like she never had a chance. In her dreams at least near the end she was blessed with meeting a man she grew fond of. His small meeting was the light at the end of the tunnel she sprinted towards.

Knowing nothing about him didn't matter. She of course had no plans of marrying him or to lay with him but his company was all she desired. Touch was something she yearned for, yes, but with such a short life span what use would that do?

Crumpling up the letter in her grasp she looked out of the window. Sunset, the sky was like a watercolor of blue, pinks and oranges. A beautiful artwork splattered with an artist’s intentional strokes. Tomorrow is going to be a beautiful day. That was one good thing to look forward to besides seeing her friend one last time- She hoped.

Hours later

Slipping into the dreaming world, She found herself not in the void or in the ballroom. Y/N found herself tip toeing by the window, just like the night she found herself in the company of the raven.

She was replaying a memory.

The raven was there, rattling her brain and she remembered the name. Jessamy. It was a beautiful name.

“Hello Jessamy.” She sang. Tapping her nail onto the glass. The raven tapped in response, giving her a hello in return.

Storming into the room, Dream swung the door open. “Why did you touch me? Why do you disobey my warning of a single touch but also stubbornly avoid both worlds.” She had never seen such emotion from him before. It was as if it was so strong he himself didn't know what to do with it.

Puffing up her chest to defend herself. “I touched you because I wanted to.” She hadn't understood his questions regarding avoiding worlds? She did feel like she was jaded and just drifting. Wavering between the waking and the dreaming, but she herself didn't understand it.

“Doing so, you should already be aware of what it does by now.” He towered over her- staying a short distance away.

“I did so because- again. I wished to touch you.”

“What aren't you telling me? What aren't you showing me in your dreams.” His dark eyes shrouded with stars like the night sky. There has to be universes in them to be so big and absorbing. He felt rejected, felt like her strange existence was pushing him away and it was getting to him.

“I’m not hiding anything.” she lied

“You are. If you will not tell me, or show me on your own volition, I will pry it out of you.”

“I am to be sent to death.” she snapped. Letting out a hard breath she wasn't aware she was holding in. “I have been found guilty of crimes I haven't committed. My sentence is death. If I am to die so suddenly and so soon why should I hold back? Why should I not touch you?”

His lips part. He wasn't expecting that. Dragging a step back he murmured “Your days are numbered?” Forgetting his feelings of rejection and isolation, more concerned of losing something that had just captured his attention after centuries.

“Tonight is my last night.” she shuddered.

“I can help you.” he whispered, lowering himself from his towering state to reach her level, to appear less threatening.

“How? You're merely a dream.” she sneered.

“You can be here forever- be in the dreaming with me.” sounding vulnerable.

“I must face what I am promised. Have it been eternity in damnation or a blissful infinity in paradise. I will not be a coward.”

“You will die, death is-”

Raising her hand up to stop him. “I don't want to hear it. Knowing will only make things worse.” Dropping her hand to her side she sighed. A shiver ran through her. “I once read somewhere that death is only the beginning. Maybe this will just be mine.” He stood there, feeling powerless as she spoke. “I’ve been a daughter, a mistress but more importantly a friend. A friend to the Prince of stories.”

Speechless, a man of great wisdom was speechless. Mustering up comforting words that he knew she would have wanted to hear, he said “You’ve been a dear friend.”

“I must confess. I have hoped we would be more, I lay awake at night wondering what it would be like to be lovers with you. To be able to touch you freely.”

His lip trembled. It was only subtle but she noticed it. Biting her lip and knitting her brows, she continued. “To have longer dances with you, more midnight wanderings. I wonder what stories you’ve got to share with me and you wonder what stories I will share with you.”

“Stay here, with me. Be a part of the dreaming forever. Maybe friendship could become something more.”

“I desperately wish that, but I am a proud woman. Just- just promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

“Never forget me?” she couldn't keep the flood gates at bay any longer, tears were escaping and running down her cheeks. “Please… just never forget me, or the small moments we’ve shared.” Hiccupping as she struggled to continue her words. “These very small moments have been my heaven, although you still remain a stranger I have found comfort in our time, considering you a close friend- my only friend. If I were to have more time I would have fully discovered my feelings for you.”

“Y/N.” It was fascinating, human’s feared death but when faced with it their biggest concern was to be forgotten. It was likely to be forgotten after three generations but with someone who has a place within history it was unlikely in her case. Yet she wished he would not forget her.

“You're always on my mind and I fear in my last moments you’ll also be there too. My last thought.”

Dream reached over and caressed her cheek, wiping away her tears on impulse. “I’ll never forget you.” He couldn't bear seeing her face anymore, her sad expression.

From that small touch, she knew there wasn’t much time left. She leaped forward and wrapped her arms around him. Digging her fingers into his hair as she buried her head into the crook of his neck. Sobbing into him as she felt his hands slowly wrap around her.

He was caught off guard, surprised even. So starved that the slightest touch felt like a buffet. The smallest was enough to keep him full for the longest time but this. This was pleasant.

And just like that, she found herself blinking her eyes awake in her cell with tears streaming down her face. Sunlight crashed through as the realization saddled in her gut. The lingering scent of freshly baked bread and smoke was all she could smell. It was his scent. Of course he smelt like that, what an odd mixture.

That was the last time she’ll see him and today, today is her last day alive.

10th February 1547

There was no holding hands or gentle tears shed for her. She stood in the tower of London awaiting her execution. Holding herself as a lady would, shoulders back, chin up and head held high.

Alone in a bricked room with nothing more than a singular light breaking through, hugging her face. Today the sun was nice.

Stabbing sensation pinched at her eyes but she remained strong. She wouldn't let tears grow today. Not to tarnish her image and her so-called innocence but to be determined that in her last moments she was strong.

The doors flew open but her back remained turned to it.

“Ready?” The guards followed with a priest there to escort her to the courtyard.

Looking out the window she saw the audience over a stage along with the executioner. The crowd was motionless and quiet, like standing statues. She swallowed and shifted in her precision. “I’m ready.”

Walking down the halls of the tower of London following behind her guides feeling claustrophobic. The damp and cold architecture homed a lot of lost souls and she predicted she would join them. Gently grazing her hand across the brick walls as she descended down the spiral staircase. Her mind wondered what his touch had felt like when she clasped his hand after their dance. With little time to really register his tender flesh, it was hard to describe it beyond that- tender.

Once at the door to the courtyard the sight of the crowd was silent and respectful, causing her breath to hitch. It suddenly became all very real- it felt very real. Frozen in place, too terrified to step outside. If she left the tower it only just solidified her fate.

Her mind wandered to when she had danced with Dream, their hands barely touching as she held his gaze. She only now just realized that she wished she would have kissed him, maybe planted a kiss on his cheek as a thank you.

“Get a move on.” one of the Guards shoved her, she stumbled forward, out of the shadow into the light.

Flying over the sun, cutting the light from her face was a raven. It took her a moment to register it but she managed to see her, Jessamy.

Slowly and steadily she walked through the crowd, it felt like the journey took hours as all she could hear was her heart beat in her throat. Her chest heavy as her delayed panicked breathing was the only audible sound that was in the court yard besides the cruel wind.

Upon reaching the stage she came face to face with the platform where she would lay her head. The block of wood that faced a hundred people. Locking eyes with it she saw the black stains of blood from those before her. Slowly and steadily she raised her gaze to look at the crowd.

There he was. Standing within the crowd and watching. He was there with a woman she recognized the night the king had died. The black woman with the headdress that was like a halo.

Shaking and trembling Y/N express tenderness towards Dream. Pouring out all the gratitude she could for the small nights he comforted her with company and slumber in her restless hours. For letting her experience what she yearned for, a friend, a companion and maybe even a lover. Despite the inability of physical touch he touched her heart in a way she’ll forever hold dear in her afterlife.

Dream studied the scene, putting his hand on his sister's shoulder, grip tight as he couldn't look away. Death rubbed his hand that was tense at her shoulder and reassured him.

“She’ll be okay, Dream.” He knew she was comforting him but he knew better. He had seen this a million times in nightmares and in the waking world but right now he knew he had to follow Y/N’s wishes and let destiny take her hand.

His strong sense of rejection was crushing him inside. He could barely handle it. She would rather die than spend her entire existence in the dreaming with him.

It took a lot for him to show up here in the courtyard. Death had encouraged it as it would be “a small act of kindness for her.”

Fear across Y/N’s face, she reached up and removed her jewelled headdress with shaky hands, revealing her under cap. Leaving nothing between her neck and the blade.

Remaining her eye contact with Dream while she was guided down to the block. He was her grounding support, her anchor. The connection they had right now was what she needed. It was better than a huge or a hand in hand. It was his way of helping her through this; to keep her eyes focused on him.

She took in a deep and sharp breath then mouthed. “Your heart is yours.” towards my dream. Death turned to face him, to catch his reaction. He was withdrawn, struggling to remain emotionless as his walls were slowly being destroyed.

Falling carefully to her knees, her breath hitched again as sobs escaped her against her will. Placing her head over the platform nothing but silence. The loud silence of the entire court yard and her desperate sobs for life. The executioner brought up his sword in the air with all his might.

Her entire life she was waiting to live, and she only just began her life in her last days.

“Forgive me.” She whispered with a quiver. “Forgive me god. For all I ever wanted was to love and be loved.”

#The sandman fanfic #morpheus x reader #sandman x reader #the sandman fanfiction #morpheus fanfiction #one shot fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #dream x reader #dream fanfiction

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wilczachannn · 3 years

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⊱ ⸾⤻🅳𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍, ᴄᴄ!ᴛᴏᴍᴍʏɪɴɴɪᴛ ‧₊˚ :

𖠳 ꒰ 𝘪𝗇 𝘸𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ₊

ⵌ going to tommy’s house, while your parents are fighting.

𖠳 ꒰ 𝘨𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾 ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ₊

ⵌ platonic // angst // fluff

𖠳 ꒰ 𝘸𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ₊

ⵌ parents fighting,, mentions of divorce,, swear words,, tell me if i missed something.

for @mcyt-sh1t ‘s 150+ follower writing event! congrats sweetheart! :D i think the song "devil town" by cave town goes nice with this :)

prompts : "can i sleep over? my parents are fighting again." , "how bad is it?" & "you're freezing. come here."

hours, that's how long your parents could argue in a day, if not more. at first they had little arguments, not very often, like every marrige, they had their ups and downs, it was normal, until the not very often slowly, but successfully, became everyday. you weren't nervous, or atleast you didn't want to show it out to the public, because who would want to talk about they're parents possibly getting divorced? probably noone. however, there was only one person who new about your situation, that being the one and only tommyinnit, your best friend. he knew how hard everything was for you, especially mentally. so, he regularly let you come over to his house to hang out, and most of the time play minecraft on your private server. he loves to see you have fun, it was like a break from reality, and your parents which was really good for your mental health. his parents treat you like their own child, they are super supportive of your friendship with tommy and think your quiet persona helps their son calm down when he's really hyper.

yet, for the past few days everything seemed to go more wrong than you could've ever imagined. this time they were fighting over who's going to take you after they divorce, sudden panic hit you. are they serious? do they really want to just leave eachother? was this all your fault? no, of course not, [name] stop overthinking, everything will be alright, right?

"it's all your fault our marrige isn't working out! you decided to be an impatient piece of shit and ruin everything for me!" your mother yelled out, venom slipping out with every single word let out, eyes full of anger. though they couldn't see you, nor hear you, you still felt uneasy being there. being in your own childhood home, maybe it's not even yours anymore? who knows. everything started to get blurry, tears forming in your eyes, your breath started to get faster by every seconds.

slowly backing away to your room, you closed the door, running up to your bed and falling on it, instead of hitting the once soft material that usually covered your mattress, you were hit with a cold, piece of paper? how did this end up here? you thought, curiosity took the best of you, so you investigated it.

dear [name],

i know your life might be rough right now,

and because of that, i want you to remember

that you're always welcome in my house.

- big man, tommy, 16.07.21 :)

of course it's from tommy, why wouldn't it be from him? he's your bestfriend after all. it was his thing to write down the date of the day he made the little note. over the years of friendship, you learned to love his signature and his writing style. sure, the little note made you smile, however it didn't stop the tears coming down your now, pinkish cheeks.

everything started to crumble down, the happy family you once knew, you once were, is turning into nothing right before your eyes, the worst thing about all of this, is that nothing could save it. there was only one option left, tommy. standing up, you stumbled to your desk to take your phone, dial his number, and simply hear his voice. you put the phone next to your ear and waited for him to pick up.

"h-hey tommy." you said, your voice very clearly cracking.

"hello [name], sorry to inform you, but you sound like shit." tommy responded, he wasn't wrong though, you sounded worse than quackity when he was sick, but hearing tommy's voice calmed you down a little, like always.

"i know, although this isn't about my voice right now, i have an important question to ask you tommy."

"alright, ask away." was his response.

"can i sleep over? my parents are fighting again." you whispered, slowly closing your eyes, feeling your eyes get watery again.

"how bad is it?" tommy asked.

"bad enough to make me want to actually run away."

"do you want me to pick you up or something?"

"no, i think i will be able to walk to your house without anyone, but thank you." you smile slightly.

"are you sure?" tommy expressed his concern, it was unsafe to go outside at night, especially alone.

"mhm." nodding to yourself, you got back on your feet again taking a backpack from your closet, picking some comfortable clothes at the same time. you also slipped a dream hoodie on, your favourite and probably one of your most treasured out of all the clothing you own, unlike tommy who literally got it for free, you had to pay for it, however, it was worth it. "i will be there in about 30 minutes, i also promise to be safe and to not take short cuts. see you soon." you hung up.

this will be the hardest part of going out at night, the sneaking out. it may seem easy, but in reality it isn't. the most important thing is to not get caught, which in this situation seems easy considering all the yelling from the kitchen.

you didn't even try to bother pretending you were asleep in bed, they really couldn't care less about you now. always so selfish. always so ignorant.

luckily the room you were in was next to a tree, a undoubtedly big one, yet it was perfect to climb down from, and so you did. although you were really careful to not get a splinter, you tried your best to be quick. finally on the ground, the wind was strong, even so that isn't what matters at the moment, you still need to get to tommy's house safely, without any distractions on the way.

when you finally got on the sidewalk, your luck wasn't on your side anymore, it started raining badly, so the only option you had left was to run as fast as you possibly could, it was harder than you originally thought, since you hadn't sleep in 24 hours. and there you were, in front of your best friends house, wet and probably sick.

you didn't even get to the door and it already flew open, showing off tommy in his fameous red and white t-shirt, with a soft smile on his face, he stepped out into the rain.

"you're freezing. come here." he announced, taking your hand in his and guided you to the house.

as soon as you got inside, his mum turned around to see the two of you standing in the doorway, both smiling, like you always did when you come to their house.

"welcome back home, [name]." maybe this isn't the best time to lose all hope, not everything is good now, but with time everything will change, everything you know will be better, because you are worth it and not everything bad is your fault. for now you only have to belive tommy's words, when he first took a notice of your family problems.

"your parents aren't pog, please know that this isn't your fault."

𖠳 ꒰ 𝘵𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ₊

@etheriaaly ,, @bbh-a3sth3tic

@ttakinou ,, @lavenderjacobs

#[🍄] ─ my fic collection ¡¡#tommy #tommyinnit #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit x reader platonic #tommyinnit x platonic reader #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit x y/n #mcyt x reader #mcyt x reader platonic #mcyt x platonic reader #mcyt x you #mcyt x y/n

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i8jisoo · 4 years

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𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒 ⇉ skz with pregnant!reader

seungmin x reader | part seven of dad!skz

↬ genre; fluff & angst

↬ warnings; obviously pregnancy, talk of sex/condoms, talk of morning sickness, cursing, child-birth

↬ notes; i feel like my mental health is getting worse and it has been really hard to be positive but i finished this awhile ago, never posted it! just thought to post it today since i just reached 500 followers,, tysm everyone for the support on my posts and following me for content,, i’m waiting for enhypen debut rnnn, it’s really one of the only things keeping me happy n ready. my bias is jungwon :) he’s so adorable n cute i can’t wait + i hope to start writing for enhypen soon when i feel better,, ty guys <3

the night was a one night stand

seungmin had no plans to see you after, you already gone by the morning so it made no different what he wanted afterwards

so with his number in your phone, you decided that texting him would be the best

you texted him your address, asking him to meet with you after u addressed who you were

the best maybe after twelve, seeing as how from nine to eleven you would be occupied with the toilet bowl, the morning sickness really weighing on you

hes there, ready to talk, looking great

ur just there in a t-shirt and sweatpants with slightly messy hair

you seat him on ur couch, pacing in the kitchen before actually beginning to talk

“it broke, or maybe you forgot. i don’t know but you, you got me pregnant.”

i honestly see seungmin being really innocent in this and he’s just made a bad decision which resulted in a baby

“wh-what? no, i used.. i..”

it dawns on him that he can’t remember slipping on a condom before

he’s turned white as a sheet, probably feeling more ill than you

he does the math, figuring you’re around two months, you’re not that far along obviously

“we don’t have to do this, you hardly know me.”

hes shaking his head quickly, “nono, i wanna.. i may never get this chance again. i might not ever meet someone again, so, if it’s with you? i’m fine with that.”

seungmin was there for the next appointment, fully supportive and stepping up

hes scared but so excited

he also moves out of the dorms, raising flags, but he keeps assuring everyone that he was just getting a change of scenery

he claims he got a dog but uh, there isn’t one

he actually moves in with u, an apartment that wasn’t too far away from the dorms and he will time to time spend the night if they need him to

ur actually really understanding of his career and u admire his adjustment

late night with him where u two go to a twenty-four hour convenience store and buy every junk food possible

u also acquired strange cravings such a pineapple and cream cheese or kimchi and chocolate sauce

that night however u rly had a craving for cheese and cheese only

it doesn’t last however, from three to five you are in the bathroom hunched over

he?? isnt?? actually?? the worst partner to get pregnant from a one stand with?????????????????????????????????????????

he’s pretty much a sweetheart

bless everyones heart though when they find out about you

“this is my friend, we are.. having a uh, baby!”

haha surprise...

u swore that jisung’s breath was lost when he said that

chan is fucken freaking out about this

“we’re gonna be uncles!”

everybody screaming and cheering which was a good sign

ur days are average and u guys just act like friends

friends having a baby lmfao

it’s a fine line between dating and not dating

seungmin reaaalllyy likes you but he has this bit of guilt in him for getting you pregnant

ur the one who uprooted your life and ur gonna have a kid for the rest of ur life with him and he’s still living his and doing what he loves

seungmin heart eyes motherfucker when u come to a concert, just there to see him n see what he does for a living

u guys get this cute ass picture of everyone lmfao i just imagine the boys and seungmin standing around and posing with ur small bump

he doesn’t get to go to every single appointment, so his first appointment he went to was when you were around six and a half months

he’s super excited and just super nervous

so many expecting moms its crazy

when your name is called and you two go back, he’s jumping out of his seat and going back with you

the doctor applies the gel on your stomach, the rounded bump sticking out prominently

his hand clasps around yours, fingers laced with yours and he gives you a warm smile

the screen flickers on and theres your baby

it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen

he can clearly see the legs and arms, theres the head!!! he can make out the toes and fingers

then u guys get to hear the heartbeat together

it’s so strong and he just,, wow.. this is real 😣

ur bearing his child, your guys’ baby,, he can hardly believe it

then the doctor asks if u two want to know the gender

“yeah.” 🥺🥺🥺

ofc u could’ve known before but u didn’t know if seungmin wanted to find out or wait n u just would feel guilty if u went ahead

he was rly trying to be as involved as possible, he had a busy schedule and u two weren’t even dating and this whole thing was happening secretly

they turn the monitor for you two to look at, pointing around

“there they are, we have a baby boy.”

seungmin is so taken aback, this all is so .. unreal for him

he’s ready to get the disc with ur ultrasound footage n the heartbeat but also the ultrasound photos 🥺 he’s so in love with your baby boy

u two are just sitting in the office after, ur wiping off ur belly n he’s just like

“i’m in love with you. you and our son — i know, we agreed to co-parenting and no feelings but,” his voice is so strained n he’s just so fragile n so utterly raw, “i couldn’t help it.”

ur fact at first is just frozen and slightly shocked

then ur like 😮🥺😣

“no, cause i was thinking the same exact thing.”

that seals the deal for u two pretty much, ur both emotional wrecks in the exam room

theres the boyfriend and girlfriend dynamic now — seungmin and you sleeping cuddled together

it wasn’t like you two didn’t cuddle before,, but it would usually end up with seungmin silently creeping out of bed or you softly removing his arm or you leaving him gently

u rely on him more, the final trimester hard on you and ur so exhausted and hurting

u two getting the nursery ready together which actually consists of u sitting down rather than actually doing anything

though u will have to teach this boy how to put away bibs and fold baby clothes

u two are young and u both have a lot of explaining to do to your own families, but they are supportive

they r more than happy to teach u two about children and giving tips on these things

blue nursery with lil teddy bears around and its just the cutest, props to room designer seungmin 🤓

baby boy is so stubborn, you’re past your due date and you both want him out

you two try a shit ton of things

name it all: pineapple, spicy foods, raspberry tea, daily walks around the block, literally everything

everything except for the obvious that had been recommended by your obgyn

sex.

both of you two hadn’t really explored in the topic of sex or anything of the sort, it was slightly awkward

you’re five days overdue now, which now you couldn’t even care

“please..! they said it works, even our ob said so!”

he is so cautious about this, but begrudgingly decides to proceed with this idea

he’s so sweet 🥺 but maybe a little too sweet because next thing you know is that two short hours later ur water breaks and u are in labor!!!!

both of you are vv nervous

his hyungs are right there to calm him down, asking you if ur okay and if u need anything

they rly adore their lil minnies baby mama & their lil nephew

seungmin is big daddy deffo

he’s so attached to u 🥺 it hurts to see u in so much pain and he can’t do much to take it away, but he will kiss ur forehead and wipe ur tears away

he personally finds u so angelic as u are quite literally coated in sweat and nearly breaking his hand

it’s finally over, you and seungmin both turning to the tiny baby that just came into the world, both of u crying while laughing at the beet red baby

theres your little baby boy in your arms, squirming at the new coldness and trying to move around in the blanket

all of the boys come in, excited to meet the baby

in amazement you made this adorable, small baby after one night

this experience was everything and more to you both, so glad you weren’t as careful one night and now had the greatest gift given to you: your small son who slept soundly in your arms

523 notes · View notes

dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

Text

Stray Kids Reaction || Comforting Hugs [Request]

Chan:

It was just one thing after another that day and you were getting more upset as time went by, you dragged yourself through your front door and threw your bag down onto the floor wanting to curl up into a ball and cry right then and there. The day had started with your boyfriend Chan telling you he couldn't come and see you that night because he was busy with work, which you understood. After all, you knew how much his dream meant to him but it didn't stop you being a little upset over it. The slowly throughout the day things got worse, your heel snapped on the way to work, someone at work dumped a tray of coffee over you so you were forced into wearing a tighter waitress uniform resulting in being reported by one of the Karen's that frequently visited the small cafe you worked in with her son, claiming you were trying to seduce him which ultimately lead to you being fired because your dumb boss valued money rather than the truth.

"Fuck," You groaned laying down on the sofa and trying not to break down into tears, you looked at your phone to see a photo from Chan sitting on your notification bar but you didn't want to open it because then he would know you were home early but you didn't want to be rude, on the screen was a photo of him in the studio,

Hi baby, hows work? x

That was all it took for you to break down into tears sitting on your sofa, sobbing into your sofa cushions and cradling them as though it was Chan's chest and he was holding you instead of you being home alone. Your phone was ringing like crazy and you couldn't ignore it anymore, you sniffled and lifted it up to your ear to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Y/n?! What's wrong? Why aren't you answering my Snapchat? Are you okay?" His voice was full of concern which only made your heartache more at the fact that he wasn't sitting beside you.

"I got fired Channie." You sobbed down the phone and he was up from his desk in a flash,

"I'll be right round."

"You're busy-" He hung up before you could even finish your sentence and you just sat there in silence while you waited for him to show up at the door.

He let himself into the apartment and sat beside you on the sofa taking your hands into his and pulling you close to him,

"Talk to me." He whispered but you shook your head snuggling your face into his chest,

"I just need you to hold me." You whispered back to him, he unlinked your hands and wrapped his arms around your waist and pulling you into him, holding you as close as he could without you being in his body.

"I'm sorry I made you leave the studio, you could go back." But he stayed silent and rubbed the small of your back in different patterns, whispering sweet nothings into your ear trying to comfort you in any way he could,

"Shh, I'm here." You smiled softly at him and closed your eyes listening to his heartbeat to calm you down from the awful day you'd had, it was perfect laying here. It was all you needed to make everything seem okay again and Chan knew that he knew all you needed was for him to be there and he was going to do everything he could to keep you happy because he loved you so much.

Minho:

Something had felt off all day, the moment you woke up you felt as though something was going to go wrong and you were right. Your boyfriend of two years broke up with you because he was in love with someone else who just so happened to be one of your close friends, well...Ex close best friend. You'd tried to stay as happy and positive about it as you could but it was hard to do that when it felt like the world was turning against you. You'd tried to call up your best friend Chan but he wasn't answering so you headed to the Soul Cafe to get your favourite drink instead in hopes it would cheer you up a little more. It didn't, now you were sitting in the cafe staring into the cup of hot chocolate and trying not to sob,

"Y/n?" You looked up to see Minho standing at the counter ordering something, you smiled softly at him and stared back down at the cup.

"You alright?" A simple question that normally you would answer without troubles but this time it made your eyes water and your chest hurt,

"Yeah, fine. You?" You were trying to act as calmly as possible but it was as if he could read your mind because the next thing you knew he was walking you out and up towards the studios carrying your cup for you and saying nothing.

"What's happened?" You sniffled and noticed a couple of tears were rolling down your face, Mina and Sana walked past you going to question what was wrong but Minho told them he had it covered,

"He broke up with me for my friend." You managed to say between broken sobs, Lee Know felt his blood boil at the thought of someone hurting you, he'd always had a crush on you but kept it a secret since you were in a relationship and one of Chan's best friends but this was it, it hurt him to see you hurting so much.

"I'll kill him." He mumbled walking you into a studio and sitting you on one of the leather sofas, you sniffled again and he handed you a box of tissues going to leave the room to find Chan.

"Please don't leave me alone." You whimpered, his hand hovered above the door handle at your words ad he turned around to look at you, you were staring at him and he nodded coming over to the sofa and sitting at the opposite end.

"C-Can I hug you?" You stuttered out feeling suddenly nervous to be alone with him, you'd only ever hung around with all of them together he opened his arms and you slid over to him, laying your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes.

"Has anyone ever told you, you make a great pillow?" You whispered snuggling against him and feeling relaxed and somehow at home.

"No, not really." His arm rested on your waist and he smiled, he could have stayed that way forever if you'd have let him just holding you to make sure you were okay or felt better he made a promise to himself that once you were over the low life that dumped you he would ask you out on a real date and make you feel like the amazing person you were.

Changbin:

It had been the worst week for you, you'd gotten sick on the Monday Changbin's holiday started and hadn't gotten better since. It was now Sunday and he'd spent the entire time he had off sleeping on your sofa away from you so he didn't get sick, he couldn't risk getting sick and then spending more time away from work so he was playing nurse for you from a distance. He wouldn't go near you, wouldn't hug, kiss or even be in the same room with you longer than ten minutes and it was starting to make you upset. You were cranky from hardly eating anything and not being able to spend time with your boyfriend was driving you insane.

"One hug." You mumbled coming down the stairs, you had a blanket wrapped around your head and he turned around to see you standing there. You were dressed in one of his hoodies with the blanket wrapped tightly around you and he sighed,

"I can't, you're sick. Back to bed." You stood your ground and pouted,

"I'm fine, I'm not sick anymore." You both stayed silent for five seconds before you began coughing hysterically in front of him and he raised an eyebrow at you.

"Not sick anymore?" He questioned making you mumble something in his direction before heading back upstairs to the bedroom. Changbin went into the kitchen to get you something to eat, though you weren't allowed much so it was mostly soup for you with a little bit of bread to try and build your immune system back up to being healthy once again.

He stepped into the bedroom and heard you sniffling under the covers, you hadn't heard him come in otherwise you would have stopped crying in an instant, you didn't want him to see you like this.

"Jagi?" You wiped your eyes and rolled over to face him acting as though nothing was wrong but he could tell by your bloodshot eyes that you'd be crying, he put the food down on the bedside table.

"What's wrong?" You shook your head at him not wanting to talk about it,

"Get out before you get sick." You whimpered moving over to the food and getting ready to eat but he stood there staring at you.

"What is it? Is your headache back?"

"No, my boyfriend hasn't hugged me in over a week and I want a hug." You pouted and he instantly felt bad for not being able to hold you in his arms, he wanted to more than anything in the world but you were sick and he couldn't risk it. You knew how much music meant to him but when you were sick you didn't care about anything but yourself,

"Move over." He mumbled kicking off his shoes,

"What?"

"Move over." You moved over in the bed and he climbed under the covers beside you, laying your head against his chest as he sat beside you. He wrapped his right arm around your waist and used his left one to turn on your favourite movie on the TV, you smiled softly and looked up at him thinking about all the ways you loved him.

A couple of days later you were fine and Changbin was the one sick and in your bed complaining that it was your fault he was in that state now and how you had to be the nurse for him.

Hyunjin:

Having a best friend that lived halfway across the world wasn't easy, especially when you were also in love with him and all you wanted to do was cuddle up next to him when you were feeling down. Hyunjin knew how much your mental health was taking a hit lately, how sad you were getting because you were away from him, friends and family in your time of need and he wanted to try and cheer you up as much as he could luckily for him he had already made a deal with Chan that on their vacation he could go and see you in your home country without telling you of course as he wanted it to be a surprise and that's where he was going.

"Just a minute." You mumbled dragging yourself over to the front door to see who was knocking so loudly on a Sunday morning at 4:15. You unlocked each of the locks on the door and swung it open to see Hyunjin standing there with a giant smile on his face,

"Oh, Hey. Come in I'll make a drink." It wasn't the reaction he was hoping for but he followed you into the apartment and into the kitchen where you continued to sleepily make a drink. The kettle clicked and so did your mind, the blanket was thrown from around you and you jumped into Hyunjin's arms screaming about how much you couldn't believe he was standing there.

"Hi!" You yelled giggling as he put you down on the ground and smiled at you, his smile was contagious and you already felt better just by him being there.

"Oh god, I can't believe it!" You yelled running into his arms and just staying there, he was resting his head on top of yours and holding you tightly. Neither of you wanted to let go of the other so you just walked into your living room and collapsed down onto the sofa together.

"Why? When? How?" He laughed at you trying to get all the different questions out to him and he pulled away to look down at you, tucking hair behind your ear.

"This morning, it's our vacation and because you needed me." He stared down into your eyes and you smiled at him, his eyes flicked down to your lips and it was the first time he'd ever wanted to kiss you badly, he leant forward and you met him the rest of the way both of you proceed to make out in the middle of your living room.

Han:

You were crying to your best friend about how much you missed your boyfriend Han, you'd only gone over to her apartment to do her makeup and it turned into a girl therapy session where you were now sitting on her bed and crying into her legs about how much you'd missed him. Normally he would stay at your apartment but he was busy with studio things and it was easier for him to be at the dorms than it was to be at your apartment,

"I understand, of course, I do. But I still miss him and I feel like I can't tell him that because I know how much music means to him." You whimpered and she continued to rub your back asking you questions about it, what neither of you had failed to notice was that you were laying on your phone and butt dialling Han. He'd heard everything you said including the broken cries you would let out when your friend asked about it.

He'd used the spare key to get into your apartment where he then laid out blankets on your living room floor and got snacks ready, putting Howl's Moving Castle on the TV and waiting for you. He heard you sniffle as you shut the front door and he said nothing, he just walked up to you and kissed your cheek.

"Han-ah?" You mumbled dropping the bag you were carrying on the floor and walking with him into the living room, there were fairy lights everywhere and he was smiling at you.

"I'm sorry I've been so focused on work lately, I hope this sort of makes up for it." You smiled sadly at him and wrapped your arms around his neck and his wrapped around your waist.

"It's perfect but all I need is you here." You whispered going over to the blankets and sitting down together, he sat you on his lap while you cuddled into him not wanting to leave his lap for as long as humanly possible. You both just laid there tangled together in silence, the movie wasn't in either of your minds you just laid together comfortably as he rubbed the small of your back and whispered sweet things to you to make you feel a little better, telling you a funny story about the boys and then trying to get you to talk but all you wanted to do was lay there and listen to him.

Felix:

Changbin had promised to come and pick you up for the night but he hadn't shown up and text you telling you he was being held back at the studios and you should go around on your own to the dorms. He was your close friend and he'd invited you to stay over at the dorms after a really bad week, you'd been fired on Monday, Wednesday your mum told you her and your father were getting a divorce and it just got worse with every passing day. The walk to the dorms gave you a lot of time to think which wasn't a good thing because by the time you got to the front door you were sobbing and crying into your hands as if you were in some kind of movie, the door opened and Felix was standing there looking at you, his facial expression was full of concern as soon as he saw you sobbing.

"Is Changbin here yet?" You whimpered and he shook his head letting you into the apartment and shutting the door behind you,

"You alright?" You shook your head and headed in the direction of his and Changbin's room to go and lay down and he followed you wanting to know why you were crying.

"What's wrong?" You shook your head again sniffling and looking around for one of Changbin's hoodies and Felix knew what you were looking for and handed you one of his instead, you stared at it before accepting it.

"I'll be right back." He mumbled leaving the room, you changed quickly and lifted the hood around your head, Felix came back into the room with a bottle of water and some snacks but you didn't look like you were in the mood for food.

"Come on," He whispered nodding over to his bottom bunk, it was easier than climbing up to the top one so you laid down in front of Felix. Naturally, his arm rested around your waist and he pulled you back to him making you hum as you rested so close to him,

"We don't have to talk about it." He whispered to you and you could feel his breath on the bottom of your neck making your heart pound. You'd been this close to him once before and it was when you were drunkenly making out at a party that he seemed to have forgotten about but you hadn't, you remembered it as if it happened yesterday. You turned over in his arms to face him and looked up to his face,

"Thank you Lix," You whispered leaning up and kissing him on the cheek, he blushed deeply and you smiled resting your head on his chest to listen to his rapid heartbeat.

"It's fine Y/n." He whispered kissing the top of your head, he wanted Changbin to stay as long as he could at work just so he could lay there with you in his arms.

Seungmin:

It had been without a doubt the worst birthday in the histories of birthdays no one had remembered that it was your birthday, you'd gone to work as normal and then after work, you headed to the restaurant that Seungmin had placed a reservation for you both but he never showed up at the restaurant and you left not wanting to look pathetic sitting there alone all dressed up for nothing.

"Oh Hi!" Chan yelled as you walked into the dorms, he took one look at you and knew something was wrong though,

"What is it?" You looked at the floor and then back up to his face,

"It's my birthday and Seungie didn't remember." You whispered, Chan almost dropped the drink he was holding and he felt bad instantly. They'd all forgotten it wasn't just Seungmin,

"Shit, Y/n...We've just been really busy with the comeback and-"

"It's fine, is he in bed?" He nodded and you walked in the direction of the dorm room, taking off the jacket and crawling into the bed beside him trying not to cry too much. You knew how much this meant to Seungmin so you weren't about to sit and cry about him missing a birthday, you loved how hard he worked and you adored the fact that he was so passionate about music.

"Hey, Jagiya." He whispered once he felt you snuggling against him, you stayed silent and laid against his chest. You knew Chan had followed you into the room and was mouthing a conversation to Seungmin who didn't understand what the leader was trying to say.

"He's trying to tell you it's my birthday." You mumbled against his chest,

"No your birthday is next Friday- Oh my god, I'm so sorry." You shook your head at him and looked over your shoulder at Chan,

"You're busy, it's fine." You promised, of course, you were hurt deep down but you knew how much everything meant to Seungmin so you were just going to get over it and the best way to do that was cuddling up to your sweet boyfriend and just staying in his arms for as long as possible with no interruptions,

"I'll make it up to you." He whispered kissing the top of your head and you responded with a hum closing your eyes and wanting to sleep laying against him for the rest of the night.

I.N:

The panic attack came on strong and you were left breathless and leaning back against a wall, your brother Hyunjin was somewhere in the venue which meant you were alone to deal with this on your own, you were trying to focus on breathing when I.N found you.

"Y/n?!" You looked up at him and he rushed over to you, kneeling you down on the floor in front of him and sitting there with you, he'd seen this time and time again with Han and he knew what to do when someone was having a panic attack.

"Deep breath in and out." He repeated trying to get you to follow along with his breathing but it wasn't working,

"Okay, name five things you can see that are circle." He mumbled and you frowned looking around the venue and naming this,

"Four things you can hear." You named them one by one and he continued to give you small tasks to do each of them slowly taking the mind away from your panic attack and bringing you back down to your normal breathing and thinking.

"You okay?" He asked as he noticed you were now crying, you nodded slowly and stared at him.

"How did you learn to do that?" He shrugged his shoulders telling you he'd seen someone doing it with Han once,

"We'll get you some water," You shook your head and sat on the floor not wanting to move in fact, you wanted to sit and cry about having a panic attack over something that seemed so silly.

"Don't leave me." You whispered and he shifted closer to you, sitting with his back against the wall and as if it was a natural thing for you to do you snuggled against his side resting your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes.

"Thank You Jeongin." You mumbled snuggling against him, he looked around to make sure Hyunjin wasn't around before he snaked his arm around your waist to comfort you hoping no one would come along and ruin it for him.

1K notes · View notes

easily-infatuated23 · 4 years

Text

The Nanny

request: “Hello, could you write something where a few years after the death of his wife Draco hires a new nanny for Scorpius and ends up falling in love with her... could have anguish, but the ending would be happy? Please!My first language is not English I'm sorry if you got confused.” - @trouxa2x

a/n: i hope this is what you wanted! and your english is great don’t worry :) also-there is a phone call which is in italics and song lyrics for La Vie en Rose by Edith Piaf in italics

pairing: Draco Malfoy x Nanny!Reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: mention of death for like a moment

summary: After the birth of his son and the death of his wife, Draco Malfoy needs a nanny

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day Draco Malfoy’s son was born was the happiest and saddest day of his life. His loving wife Astoria had been diagnosed with a blood curse that killed her moments after Scorpius was born. His first breath, had been her last. Although he knew this would be the likely outcome, it was still crushing. Draco didn’t like to talk about his emotions and knew the only way to get over his wife’s death would be to burry himself in his work as a Healer. But with a baby, he couldn’t just shut out the world. He needed help. It was obvious he was struggling.

During the long process of making amends after the war, Draco had some how become close to the golden trio he had despised so much as a child. Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione had all come by to meet Scorpius and check in on Draco. He looked awful. The bags under his eyes were worse than during the war. “I have a friend who is looking for some work as a nanny, she’s great with kids, babies especially. I’ll get you her number” Hermione said, rummaging through her purse looking for her contacts book. Draco nodded slightly. He had considered getting a nanny but the idea of another woman acting motherly toward Scorpius made him feel sick. However, Draco politely took the number and thanked Hermione.

As the months continued on Draco found it easier to care for Scorpius. He had taken up a job as a consultant for the hospital so he could spend most of his time at home with his son. But as the months stretched into years, Draco grew depressed. Scorpius became fussier and fussier and the hospital was begging for him to come back as a full time Healer. “It’s time” Draco thought. He looked through the drawers of his desk until he found the phone number Hermione had given him nearly two years prior. He dialed the number, feeling anxious and unsure of exactly what to say.

“Hello?” a female voice answered.

“Hi um is this Y/F/N Y/L/N?”

“This is she, may I ask who is calling?”

“Oh yes um this is Draco Malfoy. I’m a friend of Hermione Gran- I mean Weasley’s.”

“Oh hello! I remember she mentioned a few years back you might be in need of a nanny.”

“Yes! Well, I had been handling it pretty well but now I am finding myself in need of some help so I can go back to work…”

“I see. Let me guess, those ‘terrible two’s’ are in full swing right about now” she chuckled.

“Yes exactly! I was wondering if you would consider interviewing to become a live-in nanny for my son Scorpius. I am not sure for how long or what I would pay you but-”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” she interrupted. “I’m sure we could conduct a formal interview as well but may I come over and just meet Scorpius first? I find that sometimes the baby will tell the parent whether or not the nanny is the right fit, even before an interview.”

“Yes of course. Can you come over around 11 am tomorrow?”

“Yes. See you then. Good day”

“Thank you, cheers”

He hung up the phone. He looked over at Scorpius sitting in his high chair. The baby gurgled and threw some cereal to the ground. Then seeing his cereal on the ground, Scorpius started to wail at an incredible volume. The interview couldn’t come soon enough. The next day at 11 am sharp, Y/N knocked on the door. When Draco opened it, she was met with the chaos that had become his daily life. The house was a mess and Scorpius was screaming. “Hi, welcome. Sorry about the mess” he stammered, showing her into the house. “Nice to meet you Mr. Malfoy” she replied cheerily. Seemingly unfazed, she walked into the living room, put down her purse, and sat down next to the screaming baby. Draco watched her as she began to rub the baby’s back and started to softly sing. The baby slowly began to quiet down until he was quiet enough for Draco to hear what Y/N was singing.

~Quand il me prend dans ses bras, qu’il me parle tout bas. Je vois la vie en rose. Il me dit des mots d’amour, des mots de tous les jours, et ça m'fait quelque chose….~

The baby began to smile as Y/N picked him up and cradled him, still singing.

~Il est entré dans mon cœur, une part de bonheur, dont je connais la cause. C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie, il me l'a dit, l'a juré, pour la vie. Et dès que je l’aperçois, alors je sens en moi, mon cœur qui bat..~

She then began to hum the tune more quietly and sway lightly. Scorpius’s eyes fluttered closed as he drifted to sleep. She smiled and looked up at his father. Draco was standing with his hand over his mouth, tears falling from his icy blue eyes. “Are you alright Mr. Malfoy?” she whispered. He nodded. He cleared his throat quietly before speaking. “La Vie en Rose was the song Astoria and I used for our first dance at our wedding”. “Oh I’m so sorry, if I had known I wouldn’t have…” He shook his head at her. “No it’s alright. I just… miss her”. She tilted her head sympathetically. “From what I’ve heard of her, she sounded lovely. I wish I could have met her.” Draco nodded and looked down at his shoes, trying to hold himself together.

“If you would tell me where his crib is I can put him down so we can start the formal interview. If you’d like” she said, knowing a subject change was what needed to occur. Draco nodded and gestured for her to follow him. Once Scorpius was in his crib, the adults went to the living room to discuss the particulars of the arrangement. Y/N told Draco about how she discovered her love for child care when she worked as a nanny for a short time while traveling in France. “When I came back to England, I worked for a few other Wizarding families including Hermione and Ron for a short time. Ron actually nick named me ‘the baby whisperer’” she said chuckling. “After what just happened, I’m inclined to believe him!” Draco replied. Without needing to consider it, Draco offered Y/N the job.

A year later Draco was still kicking himself daily for not hiring Y/N sooner. His life and mental health had improved drastically since she moved in. He was able to go back to working at the hospital full time and help people like he had always wanted. The two had developed a close friendship and Y/N became part of his family. The house felt almost foreign when she was gone. Though she was a live-in nanny, Draco still encouraged Y/N to take days off, and when she would go, Draco missed her terribly. He could tell Scorpius missed her too.

“You’re falling in love with her!” Hermione teased. She had come over to see Y/N and Draco and knew immediately. “What? No, she works for me. That would be highly inappropriate” he replied defensively. Hermione rolled her eyes. Draco looked across the room at Y/N. She was holding Scorpius near a window and was pointing at something and talking to him. Scorpius was giggling loudly and clapping his little chubby hands. Draco couldn’t help but smile. There was no doubt that he was fond of Y/N, but did he love her? She was great with Scorpius, she understood Draco’s feelings (sometimes better than he did), and she was beautiful. But her beauty wasn’t just external, she had a truly beautiful soul. Another six months went by before Draco was sure. He had fallen for Y/N. He hadn’t meant to fall for her, but she was easy to love. He tried not to act differently towards her but after the realization of his feelings, he couldn’t help it. It started with lingering glances and lead to going out of his way to have little moments of physical contact with her. Whether that was reaching for the same toy to give to Scorpius, or squeezing her hand to get her attention while Scorpius was sleeping. There was not a doubt in his mind about it. He loved her, whole heartedly.

Draco woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of Scorpius crying. He rubbed his eyes and rolled out of bed. He walked down the hallway and into his son’s room, only to find that Y/N was already there. She was standing with her back to the door, rocking Scorpius and singing to him. Draco stood outside of the room, leaning on the door frame as he watched Y/N calm the crying child. He couldn’t help but smile at her. Eventually, she stopped singing and spoke to Scorpius. “You are so loved Scorpius. Your dad loves you, I love you, and your mama loves in all the way from heaven.” Draco continued to smile but in a more melancholy way. Y/N had always made a point of talking to Scorpius about his mother, even though she knew the baby didn’t understand what she said. Draco still found it difficult to talk about Astoria, but Y/N had always insisted that Scorpius know how much his mother loved him, even though she was gone. She rocked him a few more times before placing him back into his crib. When she turned to face the door she smiled at Draco. “I’ll see you again in an hour or so” she joked. She walked past him and exited the room, making her way down to the first floor. Draco watched her walk away before returning to his room. Scorpius didn’t cry again that night but still Draco couldn’t sleep. He decided to go down to the kitchen and fix himself a sandwich, besides, if he was awake he might as well do something to pass the time. As he made his way down the hall to the stairs, he noticed a light was on in the kitchen. He walked down and found Y/N sitting in the kitchen. She was sitting at the kitchen counter eating a bowl of pasta and reading a book. She looked up when she heard him enter the room. “Can’t sleep?” she asked. He chuckled and nodded. “Welcome to the club. Look I even saved you a seat!” she joked, gesturing at the chair next to her.

He rummaged through the pantry and complied his sandwich. He then joined her at the table. She put her book down and angled herself in his direction. “You seem different” she said. He looked down at his plate, feeling a pit in his throat. He gulped. “What do you mean?” he asked. “You just seem…I don’t know, happier recently. I can’t put my finger on it”. Did she know about his feelings? Was she trying to bait him into admitting it? He forced himself to look at her. Even at 4 in the morning she was beautiful. He took a deep breath and decided to answer honestly. “I recently decided that I’m ready to open myself up to the idea of love again. Astoria wouldn’t want me to be alone for the rest of my life and something just told me its time” he said. Y/N smiled. “That’s really great Draco. I’m so happy for you”. She had a slight glimmer in her eye, she had to know. He eyed her a bit suspiciously. She laughed. “Ok ok don’t give me that look! Hermione might have mentioned to me that you had found someone and I had to ask! Whoever she is she’s a lucky girl” she turned back to her book.

Draco couldn’t believe what he heard. Y/N, the girl who some how knew him better than he knew himself, didn’t know he was in love with her! He smiled and rolled his eyes as he stood up and leaned his back against the counter, putting his hand over Y/N’s book. She looked up at him, some what puzzled. “Y/N, it’s you. I’ve fallen for you. Totally and completely” he said, hopefully sounding more courageous than he was feeling. Her jaw dropped. She couldn’t speak. She mouthed “me?” and pointed to herself. Draco’s smile widened and he nodded. She grinned. He cupped his hands around her cheeks and leaned in closely, so closely it was a wonder their eyelashes didn’t brush against each other. He waited for her to give him permission to close the gap between their bodies. “Kiss me” she whispered. He closed the gap and their lips touched, gently but still passionately. She stood up from her chair and rose to her tip toes as her hands played with his hair. The kissing became laughing as they came up for air. “I didn’t think it was possible to kiss someone and smile at the same time” Y/N said. “With you, I don’t think I’ll ever stop smiling”. There was a comfortable silence as they rested their foreheads against each other, enjoying being close. “I love you Y/N”. She looked up and into his eyes. “I love you too Draco”.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x nanny!reader #scorpius malfoy #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fluff #harry potter #harry potter au #draco malfoy au #hermione granger #ron weasley #draco malfoy imagine

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adsosfraser · 3 years

Text

The Stone’s Toll - Chapter Eleven

Read on AO3

They had been so careful. On the supposedly most fertile days of her courses, they had, well they had done other things. She religiously took her vial of posies and fennel each day and used the protection provided from her twentieth-century life. For months now. Still, it wasn’t enough, and she knew the only one hundred percent assured prevention was abstinence. She felt the ghost of a flutter in her womb.

Jamie found Claire on the floor next to their bed, her cheeks stained with tracks of tears and snot crusted against the deer pelt that her face was squished into. The chamber pot full of her sickness had been shoved away from her on the wood in her dejected anger.

“Is it true Claire?”

“Can ye..” he swallowed thickly. “Yer wee herbs can ye-“

“No, that’s the last thing I want Jamie! God!” Her palms rubbed into her eye sockets. “I just wish- there wasn’t so much uncertainty. I could never survive- Jamie promise me, if it ever came down to it, you would save the child, not me.”

“Claire,“ he levelled a determined gaze at her. ”That will never happen. Ever. That I will promise ye.”

“But it might. You made me promise, should the time come, that I’d go through the stones. Of course, I was reluctant, but I did give you that promise. I followed through on it. Now you promise me.”

“Aye Claire, I’ll save the bairn, but it’ll no’ come to that.”

“I’m going to instruct you. On how to help me. No matter if it goes wrong or the delivery is perfect.”

“Ye wouldna prefer someone else? A woman?”

“You’re the only one that I would trust.” She smirked in anticipation of her next words. “And you’re the one who did this to me, you can see it through.”

“Ye seemed pretty enthusiastic, if not overly pleased the many times I did that to ye. And I seem to recall the many times ye were the one clawing at me.”

She laughed at the big goof and then sighed into his embrace, relieving her stress and worry into him.

What if the baby never even made it long enough to make its true presence known? What if Jamie did have to follow through in his presence? Would she be able to survive the birth? She’d never given birth to a live, full-term baby yet. Or, even worse, would she be a terrible mother? When her mind drifted to these thoughts, she shook her head out of the daze. Stress wasn’t good for the baby. And if she constantly worried about her child’s health, her thoughts may very well become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

It was March, and flowers and trees were slowly crawling out of their hibernation. Claire’s pregnancy felt… off from how she carried Faith. It didn’t raise alarm for her baby’s health, but she did have her suspicions.

“What is it Sassenach? Ye’re smiling so hard I fear yer lips will fall off.”

“Well, I have been a bit… bigger than usual.”

“Aye, yer round wi’ my bairn. And I’m no’ complaining one bit. Wi’ yer fine plump arse even bigger than usual.” He grasped a healthy amount of said body part and smirked.

“Well, I think I’m carrying twins.”

“Ifrinn!” All the colour drained from his face. “Two bairns? Two bairns! Sassenach!” He gripped her in his arms as joyous laughter rumbled through his chest and her feet left the floor. More words of love in his native language rumbled out and her eyes crinkled with her smile.

When she was absolutely sure it was twins, Jamie’s daily ritual of one kiss to her belly each morning and night turned into two kisses on either side of her stretched skin.

Not only did one life depend on her at once, but now two. She was terrified. Even with constant reassurance from Jamie that the bairns kicking in her stomach were braw, a twitch of doubt seeped into her mind.

To ease her worry, she thought of something that could reassure her. She traced the design onto the back of a discarded pamphlet. A pinard horn. So Jamie could hear the strong heartbeats of the babies tumbling within her belly. Fergus laboured hard on the project immediately, while his ‘milord’ was off working the lands of their croft. It was expertly crafted, even with her rudimentary designs.

Jamie manoeuvred the hollow horn over the expanse of her belly, brow furrowed in concentration. He paused over one spot and nearly fainted.

“Ah Dhia!” His eyes widened in fascination. “He’s really in there!”

“Yes, they are.” She placed her hand over his on the pinard horn and slid it across where she thought she felt the other heartbeat to be.

His hands were shaky now and he choked on his tears, almost painfully bursting with joy. “Two braw bairns. Wi’ wicked thumping hearts.”

They felt more concrete to him now, actual people instead of the imaginations of what they could be. He spoke every day to them in Gàidhlig, when Claire said they should be able to hear now.

It was bittersweet. She was carrying them for over seven months now, longer than her other children. She was constantly caught between unflagging joy and unrelenting grief. Sometimes it felt like a betrayal to be so happy. But she carried through, with her husband and son by her side, and the promise of the future tucked under her heart.

The day after Jamie’s birthday, she started labouring. Jamie commented on the decency of his children to not eclipse his day with their own arrival. It was as difficult as any other birth, but thankfully there were no complications. Claire had gripped, clawed, and screamed at her husband. She’d scream the promise to have him castrated many, many times. While she paced around the room, Jamie tried to assure her or crack jokes to lighten the atmosphere, but every word he said she turned it against him. He was silent after that, but then Claire would call out for him as each contraction ripped through her body. He stood behind her squatting form above the straw and she dug her nails into his arms as she bore down. A beautiful squalling boy was born after nine hours of labouring. William Brian Beauchamp Fraser. While she felt distraught placing the name Brian within the middle, Jamie assured her it was to not only honour his father, but now the child that they had lost, and she warmed to the idea as well. His brother met the world soon after, almost a quarter of an hour apart, looking exactly the same as the brother who beat him out of the womb. Henry Alexander Murtagh Fraser. Beautiful healthy boys, both with tufts of the same brown downy hair and slanted Fraser cat eyes.

They opted to have their sons sleep in their bed that night rather than the cribs Jamie had carved, tucked in securely between their parents. Neither of them could sleep and Claire was watching the steady rise and fall of each small chest.

“They’re real.” She whispered, brushing her pinky across William’s cheek. His lips tugged up into a smile, just like his father’s did.

“Thanks to ye Claire. Ye were braw.” He squeezed her hand, their arms hovering over their sons. “But I dinna wish to ever see ye like that again.”

“Is it wrong to feel so happy? To rejoice in my sons while-?”

“They’ll be happy fer their brothers. I ken it. And they’re watching o’er them as their angels now. Lord knows how much these lads will need it. These two will be trouble, I can feel it.” He affectionately patted their bums.

Claire finally let her exhaustion take over and curled protectively around her son as she drifted off to sleep. Jamie never slept that night, too preoccupied with the sight of his wife and the children she had blessed him with. His wife learned just how real her sons were in the middle of the night when they would scream their lungs out unceasingly until attention was paid to them. Jamie insisted she rest and recover, and leapt up at every cry to take care of it, but was instantly horrified at what he found in the cloth swaddling Willie’s bum.

Fergus was elated the next day to meet his new brothers. Jamie and Claire had already spoken many times about how the new babies wouldn’t change anything about how they felt for him, but they could still sense some worry.

“Would you like to hold your little brother Willie?” At the indication that it was true, he had a little brother, all his worries vanished.

“Oui maman.” He was so gentle with them with so much adoration in his eyes, and it made Claire cry just to see her boys together.

He traded for Henry next and Jamie pulled Claire into his lap.

It was six weeks after the birth, and Jamie and Claire were equally ravenous. Both the babies had finally fallen asleep together, being unusually generous to their parents.

“I need my wife.” He crawled over her.

“You still want me? After seeing all that…?” Her confidence has waned slightly. She was still pudgy around the middle and there were new scars lining her belly. There was also the fact that he had seen her sweating, cursing, and wailing like a cow on their bedroom floor before the fire, and had taken multiple peeks down there to check her progress. It was apparent, however, that he wanted her desperately despite of and maybe even because of that fact.

“I could never stop wanting ye Sassenach.” He peppered kisses across her abdomen and paid special attention to the fading purple streaks on her skin. The burns on her stomach had long since faded and were barely even noticeable unless one were to look very closely, as her husband was now. She let her knees fall to the side and a moan escaped her lips when he ducked further down.

“Now, as much as I love yer wee noises mo nighean donn, ye’ll have to be quiet tonight.” He covered her mouth with his, silencing the cries that he brought out of her body.

When they both had finished, laying boneless on the sheets, Jamie pulled Claire’s back close to his chest and she curled back into him. Henry began to cry, waking his brother as well and throwing them both into fits of hungry wails. Jamie silently walked over, wrapping his kilt loosely across his hips and placed a baby in each of his arms. The sight made Claire want to ravish him with a sudden ferocity, even though they had just joined together moments ago. But, her babies’ hunger won over and she placed one on each breast. Jamie watched fascinated, as he always did. The babies hungrily gulped down their meal and then slumped against their mom, tired from weeks of growing, crying, and eating. Their tiny fists laid on top of her skin and Jamie slowly adjusted himself to hold Henry. He fell asleep, Henry’s body rising and falling with each of his father’s breaths. Willie stirred again, inquisitively staring up into his mother’s eyes. Claire stroked Henry’s cheek eliciting the same smile she loved so much, and then reached for Jamie’s as well.

“God, I love you, Jamie. So much.” Her attention shifted down to the babe on her breast. “You have such a wonderful father, don’t you Willie?” She spoke down to her captive audience. “And I love you.” She kissed his small nose, then leaned over for Henry’s “And you.” She pulled on Jamie’s bottom lip. “And God how I love you.”

#jamie fraser #jamie x claire #claire beauchamp #outlander fanfiction #craigh na dun #fergus fraser #william fraser #henry fraser #canon divergence #adsofraser writing #claire fraser #jamie and claire fraser deserved to raise bairns together #outlander fanfic

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dontshootmespence · 4 years

Text

Teetering on the Edge

Summary: You and Dean are meant for each other, but in his line of work, he deems your relationship too dangerous for the long haul, pushing you away, leaving you both worse for the wear.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Word Count: 1,893

Warnings: Cursing, nausea, vomiting, fever, seizures.

A/N: This will fulfill my ‘pining sickness’ square for @spnabobingo, soulmate au (same mark on each other’s skin that reaches for its counterpart when there’s distance between you) for @spnfluffbingo (sorry I never seem to be able to do strict fluff with supernatural characters XD) and ‘I’d rather be in danger with you than safe without you’ for @spnquotebingo.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You screamed, racing down the stairs after him. There was no way he was going to walk away and pretend this wasn’t happening. Not anymore. “Don’t fucking walk away from me!”

Dean rounded on so fast it scared you. “Y/N, I am toxic!” He bellowed, stopping Sam in his tracks behind you. “Every, single, time I get involved with someone, they die! Monsters, hunters, angels, demons, shitty fucking humans! It doesn’t matter. They will use you to get to me!”

“So what?” You stormed into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of beer, snapping the cap off through sheer anger before taking a long sip. Even alcohol wasn’t helping your rattling nerves. “When you love someone, you do things you wouldn’t normally do! Did I expect this life? No way, but I’m in it now and I’m in love with you, you fucking moron!”

He hesitated slightly, your words undoubtedly getting to him despite himself. “Well, I don’t feel the same way.”

Sam glared at him disbelievingly, not saying a word. Dean elbowed you out of the way of the refrigerator and grabbed another beer, downing nearly half of it before continuing. “I care about you. And I care about you enough to turn you away from me and this life.”

“Don’t you fucking dare pull that neanderthal bullshit with me, Alpha!” You yelled your throat hoarse. Sam dipped out of the area and back toward his bedroom. It didn’t matter. Whether he was here or not, you’d be seething. “You don’t get to decide my life for me! Have you ever thought that maybe I’d rather be in danger with you than safe without you?” He readied himself to respond but you pushed against his shoulder with a force that startled even you. “Did you ever stop to think that I’ve waited my entire life to find the person I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with? And that now that I found him, I’ll be damned if I let him go?”

You were on a roll. Dean wanted to speak, but you wouldn’t let him. “No! You didn’t fucking think about what I want! Because your number one priority is to make sure you don’t have anymore blood on your hands. Well, guess what. You don’t get to do that. Not with me! When you care, you get blood on your hands. That’s just the way it is. I get to make my own damn decisions!” It all just exploded out of you. You kept screaming and crying and drinking to the point where you weren’t even sure what you were saying anymore. As you kept going, your arguments shifted from his demeanor to your own health. “You claimed me,” you said, pulling your sleeve aside to shove the mark in his face. “You know what’ll happen to me without you? I could fucking die!”

Dean waited for you to stop ranting, steadily finishing his beer. Once you were all yelled out, he chose his words wisely. “There’s medication. You’ll be fine. You’re not going to change my mind,” he said flatly, trying to keep any sense of emotion out of his voice, even though you could tell he was right on the edge of acknowledging every amazing and shit feeling he was feeling in this moment. “I need you to get out of the bunker as soon as possible. For your own good.”

Without thinking, you reeled back and slapped him, open palm to cheek, relishing in the sound of the crack that reverberated throughout the bunker. “Fuck you, Alpha! Fuck. You.”

You kept his gaze as you dipped down to grab your bag. If he was going to pull this bullshit, he was going to look into your broken gaze and suffer while he did it. You weren’t going to be the only one to feel like jumping off the edge of a cliff. Fuck him.

As you climbed the stairs, you glanced down at your hand and glimpsed the ring he’d given you. Boiling with anger, you ripped it off your finger and threw it at him, turning to leave before he could see the tears rolling down your cheeks.

----

You knew the possibilities. It could be as little as a fever and nausea that plagued you. Or it could go to the other end of the spectrum and kill you. With tear-stained cheeks, and no care for who saw you in this state, you headed out the night after your fight with Dean and meet with a doctor at an urgent clinic that specialized in working with omegas. After he checked your vital signs, he leaned against the wall. You felt no threat from him. He was an unassuming beta, which is why you tended to come here. “What can I help you with?”

“I was wondering if I might be able to get some medication to combat pining sickness?” You swiped the silently falling tears and snot from your face with the back of your sleeve.

“You’re mated?”

“Yes, but my Alpha is a pig-headed, son-of-a-bitch in a dangerous line of work that thinks he’s doing me favors by staying away from me.”

“He knows how dangerous pining sickness can be, right?”

Nodding, you stared down at the mark on your hand, cursing its movement as another tear slipped down your cheek. “Yea, but he said there’s medication and he’s adamant that he’s too dangerous for me to be around.”

“He should’ve thought about that before mating with you,” the beta said angrily. When he met your gaze, his own softened. “I can give you something. I hope he comes to his senses, but if he doesn’t I can write up refills for as long as you need, okay?”

A strained smile was all you could muster as you took the prescription from him and bid him a good day, thanking him again for his time and understanding. Less than an hour later, your prescription was filled. One pill a day. Down the hatch.

----

Shakily, you took another pill. Five days since Dean had shoved you out of his life. It started with shakes and a fever, despite the pill. If you didn’t have the pill you might be dead already.

Pain racked your body, tensed every muscle so badly you could do almost nothing but sleep. Pulling the covers back up over your head, you attempted to shut your eyes against the pain. Bile burnt at the back of your throat. You barely made it to the sink before the little food you’d been able to eat the last few days found its way back up and out.

Wiping the remnants away, you fell back against the wall and slipped to the cold, hard tile. It took all the strength you had to reach into your pocket and call Sam. Dean wouldn’t pick up, but Sam might. And maybe he could convince Dean to pull his head out of his ass.

“Hello? Y/N?” Sam asked, his voice growing more concerned when you didn’t answer him. “Y/N, are you there?”

You replied, your voice barely above a whisper, despite trying. “Sam, I’m not well. Dean won’t pick up. I’m shaking. I have a crazy fever, even though I’m on meds. I can’t sleep and it’s only getting worse. Every day. I feel like my insides are boiling. Please, talk to him.”

“You’re on medication?”

“Since the day after I walked out. It’s not helping. Without it, I’d be dead already. Please, Sam. Try. Or I’m not gonna make it.”

Sam’s reply got caught in his throat. “I’ll get him to pull his head out of his ass, I promise.”

A laugh escaped you, but it hurt. “It’s really far up there, Sam.”

“I know.”

----

Every movement felt like climbing a mountain. And every waking moment was a fight to keep living. You started having seizures and could barely keep any food down. Water was all you could stomach.

Another three days past before you heard from Sam again. “He’s immovable, Y/N. Is the medication helping at all?”

“No,” you sobbed, though no tears slid down onto your pillow. “I’m having seizures. I’m burning up. I’m trying to stay on my side so that I don’t choke if I have a seizure, but I’m- I’m not gonna make it. I need you to tell Dean that despite everything...I loved him.”

Hanging up, you tossed the phone across the room with the strength you could muster and teared up again at the sight of the mark on your hand. It had always reminded you of an oak tree, but now the leaves looked like tendrils, crawling across your skin in search of its counterpart. You ran your opposite thumb across the mark and fell asleep, not knowing whether you’d wake up the next morning.

----

Dim light shined into your eyes the following morning, practically blinding you. Your muscles were stiff, barely limber enough to prop yourself up in bed without searing pain, but you managed, taking another pill even though it probably wasn’t doing anything.

Taking a trip to the bathroom was a monumental affair, but on the way you grabbed your phone again. You were so tired. You weren’t going to make it another day. Teetering on the edge of an abyss.

Once again on the bed, you called Dean this time, not surprised when it went to voicemail. “Hey, Alpha. I just...I needed to call you one last time. My temperature’s 105. I can barely move my muscles. I’m having seizures. I won’t make it another day. I know I asked Sam to tell you, but I needed you to hear it from me. Despite everything, despite your bull-headedness and completely dumbassery...I love you. I knew when we first met, even before I saw the mark on your hand, that you were my soulmate. And even though I’m not going to make it, the years we spent together were the best of my life.”

The phone slipped from your grasp after you hung up, thudding against the sheets. Through the gossamer curtains, you marveled at the sun, remembered what it looked like the day you met Dean, before drifting off to sleep.

----

A strong grasp shook you awake.

“Alpha?”

“’Mega, ‘M here.”

When you opened your eyes, you saw his soft greens gazing back at you, filmed by tears as deep as the ocean. “Am I dead?”

“No,” he sobbed. “Mega, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you away. I was a fuckin idiot. Stay with me.”

His hands slid up the dry, cracked skin on your arms and up your face. His touch was warm - home. “Fucking idiot would be an understatement.”

Something between a laugh and a sob left his lips. “I know. Baby, ‘Mega, open your eyes.” His thumb traveled back and forth over your cheek, coaxing your eyes to open. “That’s it. Just...stay with me, okay?”

He spoke to you as he stripped himself of his clothes and you of yours, crawling into bed behind you. When his skin melted into yours, you felt a modicum of relief. Something that gave you the slightest bit of hope. “Don’t leave me,” you whispered.

His hand grasped yours, the mark on his hand melding with yours. “Never again.”

#spnabobingo #spnfluffbingo #spnquotebingo #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester fanfiction #alpha!dean x omega!reader #alpha!dean fanfiction #alpha!dean x reader #dontshootmespence #teetering on the edge

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

HASO, “Letting Go.”

Wrote this today, hope you like it, and hope you all have a great day :)

“We have to take him to a hospital.”

His hearing echoed, his ears rang, and his body felt cold and numb. He hurt all over.

“No! That's the last thing he needs right now.”

“Not to be rude but, are you stupid! The last tie i checked, I am the only one here with a Doctorate in actual doctoring.

The world swirled slowly to the left and then to the right.

“Last time I checked I’ve been in his shoes before. You have any idea what they are going to do, they are going to assume he jumped off that bridge on purpose. They are going to strap him down, which is going to make things worse, they are going to bring in psych, who are then going to determine that he should be locked down. That is the last thing this man needs right now, and believe me I have been in his shoes.” he faded out and then back in again.

“Than what do you suggest.”

“You’re a doctor aren’t you, so as long as we have you, he is going to be fine. Let's just get him back to my hotel, but I am telling you the last thing he needs is a noisy smelly hospital room.”

“And how are we going to get him back?”

He faded back in and back out again, “I can carry him.”

“He weights over two hundred pounds.” “Than I will take lots of breaks.”

He faded out again, this time for a long while, waking up only briefly an unknown time later. He was lying, uncomfortably over someone else’s shoulder and staring at the ground as it passed by below him. Little streaks of light dotted his vision from the pain, and he felt back unconscious before he could really understand what was going on.

***

Kier Lindsay stared down at the young man, watching as the strange little alien creature got to work. He had once heard that multitasking was pretty much impossible for humans as the brain was too interconnected to allow for it, but his creature didn’t seem to have any problems. All four of its arms seemed to work independently of each other as it stitched the unconscious man back into one piece. Looking him over the doctor had determined that he had managed to fracture his good leg and some of the bones in his right arm and side, but otherwise he was less injured than they had hoped.

Then again this was without considering the psychological duress he might be under at the moment.

He grimaced thinking about it.

He had been there before, he had been there and he had hurt a lot of people in the process.

He continued to watch as the alien stitched the other man up with great precision…

Man?

Honestly he wasn’t much more than a kid, his face was still smooth, unscared by time . Not a hint of white showed in his blond hair, and as he slept, the lines of his face were soft enough that Kier couldn’t shake the feeling that he WAS nothing more than a child.

A child who had had responsibility placed on him far to soon.

To be only in you late twenties and have command of an entire galactic armada.

That was too much to ask for anyone, much less someone like him. Kier couldn’t shake the thoughts as he stared down thinking about how despite technically being an adult for a long enough time, he doubted this man had ever been given a chance to grow up, at least not in the right ways. Turned to the academy at age fourteen, he had been doing adult jobs for longer than most people. He had been thrown into an environment where intelligence and performance mattered but social opportunities were sort of lacking, and then to be thrown right onto the enterprise and into war before trying to recover and immediately turning back to the one group of people that had failed him so badly…..

Adam vir was just a kid, an overly optimistic too trusting kid who had been taken advantage of by the system time and time again. He was like a golden retriever hurt by his master but still loyal enough to come crawling back.

It almost made him sick to watch, but he knew just by looking at him that he would never consider leaving.

Even if it were for his health.

Kier sighed and sat down by the bed staring at the boy with his chin cupped in one hand.

He had a son about Adam Vir’s age, a boy that was just beginning to pull his life together into some semblance of controlled. It had taken him a lot of mistakes and a lot of experience to figure out who he was, and he ached for the realisation that this man probably never got that.

He knew the feeling all too well.

He shook himself a little, dad mode was something you couldn’t really just turn off, at least not in his case. If there were people younger than him, he felt the automatic obligation to adopt them whether they wanted it or not.

Young people deserved guidance from someone who was older and the more people to do it the better. Lindsay hadn’t seen any of Adam’s family members at the trial, which didn’t necessarily mean anything, but he also got the impression that maybe the had avoided telling them on purpose, which was another red flag he was going to have to discuss with the boy woke up.

If he woke up.

***

He woke up some time later, though he couldn’t have guessed what time. The room was dark aside from the blue light of the TV. A little bit of natural light filtered in from the window, but rain clouds dotted blanketed the sky above. Rain pattered against the window in sheets obscuring the city landscape.

He groaned and tilted his head to the side.

A soft whimper, and something warm and wet ran over the back of his hand.

He tilted his head to the side.

The room was small, only big enough for a queen sized bed, a tv and a small desk. There was adoor to a small bathroom right next to a door that likely lead out into the hallway. The hotel room was small, but clean.

And it wasn’t his.

He turned his head a little further, gritting his teeth against the pain as his bleary eyes fell on the silhouette of a man sitting at the end of the bed. He was slightly hunched forward one hand resting on his knee as he flipped through the channels.

“Adam, can you hear me.’

He turned his head a little further to the right, to where Kril was standing beside him, a look of concern on his face.

The silhouette turned to face him, no more than a balck blob against the light. It was impossible to make out his face.

“Where am I? He croaked

The man stood and stepped forward, stepping out of the way of the TV and allowing some light to fall on the side of his face, “My hotel room, sorry about how cramped it is, but until yesterday I was kind of short on cash.”

Adam blinked, the cogs in his brain grinding to a slow start as he stared at the man’s face, which was familiar but he just couldn’t…

“Cigarette.”

It was the first word his brain could think of to describe the man when he finally recognised him, and in his goggy state it was the only thing he could think of, “Where do you even buy those these days.”

“Lets just say if I could quit my smoking habit than maybe I wouldn’t be so short of cash…. Anyway, how are you feeling.”

“Like shit…. What…. What happened.”

The other man sighed and pulled up the chair from the desk, sitting next to him, “You must have had a pretty bad PTSD attack. Looks like you jumped off an overpass and then rad headfirst into a brick wall.”

He grunted, “that explains a lot I guess….” he paused, “I thought…. I thought I was doing fine. I felt…. Fine and now…” A hand rested on his shoulder, “I know, I understand.”

Adam blinked, squinting at him slightly in the darkness, “Who are you/”

“The name is Kier but most of my friends call me Lindsay. I don’t know why, guess our days in the army just sort of rubbed off on us, now we only refer to people by their last names really.”

“What were you doing at the trial.”

The man smiled a little sadly, “Watching some assholes git their comeuppance, oh, and being awarded about five million dollars compensation.”

It took Adam even longer to digest that, “You….. you’re Steel eye-” The last two words came out as a squeak.”

Lindsay turned on the light by the bed, bathing them both in a warm yellow glow. Now that Adam could get a good look at him, he saw an older man probably in his late forties or early fifties. His hair was steel grey but well groomed, and he had the body of a man half his age. He wore only a tattered flannel rolled up to the sleeves and a white T-shirt. The back and sides of his arms were dotted with familiar circular scars all with a silver sort of sheen.

And, surprisingly, little silver dots….

Iron eye implants.

He turned his head to stare up at him, “You…. you are one of the five.”

“Yep, we never met during the war but I’ve been watching your career on the news for some time now. Some real impressive stuff kid.” he smiled, smiled and easy smile of someone who actually meant it.

Adam felt a sudden pang of guilt and shame.

For a moment he couldn’t figure out what it had stemmed from, until he realised. This man seemed fine, and here he was a complete wreck.

“How are you….. Ok after all that?” he wondered almost bitterly.

Lindsay shook his head, “Don’t start with that. I've jumped from one war to another my entire life. I have more experience than you.”

Adam went quiet, “So you were fine…. After steel eye.”

The man snorted, “No… no no, not even close.”

“What happened, if you don’t mind me asking.”

The man shrugged, “Lost both my legs in the war, one above the knee and one below. When I got home my family didn’t have enough money to get me good prosthetics, so I was pretty much wheelchair bound for a year or so.” he sighed, “I came back a shell of a man to a family who really needed a father. It was so bad for a time, everyday I thought about just…. Not being there anymore. I didn’t talk to my wife, I didn’t talk to my kids, and when I did speak I was angry all the time or apathetic.” His shoulders slumped, “For a time, I didn’t have much of a relationship with my middle daughter or my oldest son. I had drug withdrawals so bad I even wheeled myself halfway across town to try and find something…. Heroin maybe, anything that might take the edge off,” He snorted sadly, “I see it as a blessing now that no one would sell to me. I went over the edge drinking, and chain smoking and trying to bum pills off of any doctor I could find. Luckily with regulations on pills these days, I wasn’t given any.”

Adam felt his mouth go dry, “That bad.”

He nodded, “Woke up screaming most nights because of the dreams. For a while my kids moved out of the house because my wife was scared for thor safety.” He held up a hand, “Even during that time I would never have hit them intentionally, but my dreams were getting so bad that I would wake up flailing, and I would jump at the smallest sound. Anything could set me off.”

He sighed sadly, “But my wife bless her soul, is the strongest woman I know.” He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a photograph showing it to Adam with a look of pride so profound it made even Adam’s heart ache.

What he saw was a nice family. Two younger kids, a teenage boy, and a woman.

She had short black hair spiked up and dark lipstick on, and the look on her face was indicative of someone full of mischievous humor.

“My angel. She stayed by me even though she should have left. I tried to get her to leave, even made my behavior worse at one point to drive her off. She SHOULD have left me, but she didn’t. I had the mot amazing support system. She held me from falling any further into it, and my little girl, my little girl Bethany, that little girl pulled me out by my hair and dragged me back to reality. She was too young to realise how horrible I was being, and she just thought I was sick. No matter how much my wife tried to keep hr away from me, she always came to see me somehow, with ‘medicine’.”

He smiled, “Generally it was just a tube of baby M&Ms. I refused at first, but she insisted, and the one day I decided to take them just to quiet her down, she told me that I would be all better.”

He waited with pent up breath.

“That night, I slept without nightmares…. The placebo effect is a hell of a thing if a child can convince a grown ass man that M&Ms ar medicine. I woke up and my head had never been so clear in my entire life. I saw what I was doing to them, and to my little girl and to my other kids…. I have never cried that hard in my entire life, but it was just what I needed. Some emotion to break the cycle of anger and apathy. It wasn’t an easy road from there, but I finally got smart and started listening to my wife. Somehow managed to get my kids to forgive me, and from there we worked as a team to get me back on my feet.” he patted the cigarette in his pocket, “This is what remains from those days…. Can’t seem to quit, but working on it.”

Adam was quiet for some time,

“It was that hard on your family.”

“It was. I am glad they stayed but at the same time I wish they hadn’t been so hurt by me.

He sighed and leaned his head back, “I don’t think that is possible for me.”

A hand turned to rest down on his shoulder, “I know it sounds hard right now but…. I have a theory if you want to hear it.”

He sighed, “Shoot, it's not like I have any other bright ideas.”

“What are you?”

“What do you mean.”

“I mean when all the trappings are stripped away from you, your job and your title…. What makes you…. You.”

He paused for a moment, opened his mouth and then closed it, “I…. Im a….I….” The other man waited, his eyes sad.

The only things Adam could think of were related to his job.

When he was silent for some minutes, the man patted his arm, “All these years of service and you've never taken time to construct a framework for yourself that can survive outside of your job. If you keep defining yourself by what you do and how well you preform than you aren’t going to last. You constantly do everything for everyone else, but why not think about doing something for yourself for once, be completely selfish. Don’t go on vacation because, I bet this will calm me down and make me a better leader when I return, go on vacation because you bloody well want to job be damned.”

Adam opened his mouth to protest, but the man silenced him.

“Even if you love your job, you need breaks from it. You need to set the line to where your job ends and you begin, otherwise you won’t have a personality left when you are done. Take some time to fix YOU before lending yourself to everyone else.”

He rested his head back, “That sounds….. Difficult.”

The man patted him on the arm, “You’ve proven you can do hard things, now is just the time to do another hard thing.”

Adam nodded but inside his head he was beginning to feel a little hopeless. He knew that Lindsay was right. He knew that he was messed up, and everything he had done up to this point was just going to be a bandage.

And until he was fixed.

He was going to have to give up a few things.

He hated the idea of hurting people like Lindsay had described, so…. So that meant doing something that he wasn’t going to like.

“Do you…. Do you mind if I…. speak with you…. On occasion.”

The man smiled, “I already put my number in your phone if you need me. I work law enforcement now so I might be busy, but if you need my help Ill do my best.”

***

He didn’t want the court’s blood money. He would have tossed it away if he could, but he knew that was just his confused mind talking. Money was money, so he mostly gave it away. Gave it away to his parents for their retirement, and to his brothers and sisters for their kids college funds. He gave some to his brother to get him a better house in a new area, but he kept some for himself. It would have been irresponsible not to buy himself a house, to get himself a place away from his job and the ship.

He didn’t know where to buy it at first thinking that earth was too mundane but anything further out was too far removed. So, he bought a little private property on the moon. It cost a shit ton of money but, he had that in spades now. He only told his family about it.

They weren’t exactly happy with them when he finally told them where he had been. They had wanted to be there to support him, but he couldn’t find t in himself to feel bad that they hadn’t see the pictures and the videos he had been forced to see. He apologized and promised he would do better in the future.

He felt disconnected from himself.

Out of touch.

The crew of the Omen was just as angry with him, perhaps even more so than his family.. The intervening days that led him back to his ship feeling detached was like…. Some sort of horrible dream. He felt like he was slipping backward down a slippery slope and watching the light fade away from him.

He was scrambling on the rocks but couldn’t find purchase.

Perhaps it was the idea of what he had to do next that hurt him so much. Hurt him so much that he didn’t want to think about it, but he knew he had to. He didn’t want to but he knew he had to. It was the only way he was going to be able to feel ok about himself, about fixing himself.

Maybe things would change when he finally came back.

Maybe when he recovered, he could change what he was about to do.

And maybe he was about to ruin it forever.

He walked down the hallway of the engineering corridor despondent, like he was watching himself in third person.

He reached out a hand that didn’t feel like his and knocked on the wall of the ship.

A familiar face turned to look at him from her workspace in the dark. Sunny stood and paused to look at him, “Adam, are you alright.”

“Sunny…. We…. need to talk.”

She paused eyes narrowing in confusion.

“Are you ok.” she repeated.

He walked in taking a seat on her work bench and staring down at his hands.

“Is this about, the trial….. I mean yes I am a little mad that you didn’t tell me. Is it because I’m a Drev, is it because it would have looked bad. I know I don’t understand human politics, but maybe….”

He held up a hand, and she grew quiet.

He sat for a long moment fighting himself on the inside,and then forcing himself to look up at her. He could feel hot tears prickling at the back of his eyes though, for some reason he couldn’t get them to fall.

She deserved that he at least LOOK at her.

He felt sick.

He just wanted to throw up.

This…. This was the hardest thing he had ever done.

“Sunny…. I… while I was away, at the trial.”

She stared at him slow horror and confusion passing across her face.

“Well, I learned some things about myself. Number one being that, I….. I never recovered from what happened to me. From Steel eye and the war. Ive been bandaging it up for the past few years assuming that I can fix it, but at this point…. I wonder if I ever will.” He took a deep breath and locked eyes with her, “I’m broken, and until I can fix myself…. I think its best if-”

“No, no no no that's not how this works.”

He continued speaking, “I think it's best if we take a break.”

“NO!”

“Sunny I love you but I. I am not Capable of being what you need or deserve.” he stood reaching a hand forward, “I can’t subject you to myself like that.”

She jerked away from his hand, “that should be MY decision it would be OUR decision.”

“Sunny please…. I am so sorry.”

“On my planet, battle pairs fight WITH each other no matter how hard the battle is.”

His voice shook timorous and fading fast, “And on my planet, sometimes loving someone means letting them go.”

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trillian-anders · 4 years

Text

marital bliss

pairing: steve rogers x reader

warnings: angst, fluff, miscarriage, depression

word count: 2.2k

description: 1950s au; steve knew he was going to marry you the moment he laid eyes on you, but you struggle with something your parents deem not fit for marriage. and everything that comes with that.

note: for @jbbarnesnnoble‘s mental health awareness month challenge.

prompt: It was progress. Baby steps forward. Maybe it wouldn’t all be okay today, but someday? It would be.

Steve had loved you since the moment he saw you. And he can remember exactly when it was. You’d been at the drive-in. Three cars down with the guy you’d been going steady with for a while. You’d been wearing a powder blue dress and a matching headband in your hair. The dress had daisies stitched into it on the hem. You snacked on junior mints and scolded the guy for touching your hair with his buttery fingers.

You sat against the trunk of your boyfriend’s car on intermission. That’s when Steve first saw you. Shaking the box to unstick the candies while he walked past, bumping into the shoulder of one of the boys joking with your boyfriend, only because he wasn’t paying attention. Only because he was trying to count the lashes that were fanned on your cheeks.

“Watch where you’re going punk.” A shove and he was on the ground. His mom had just about killed him for getting grass stains on his khakis. His popcorn spilled all over the ground. His eyes met yours, connecting for the very first time and it just about took his breath away. He maybe looked a little too long,

“You lookin’ at my girl?” A fist in his shirt collar, yanking his small frame from the ground.

“Michael!” Your voice had been like a melody to his ears, your hands wrapping around ‘Michael’s bicep, his hand curled in a fist, “Leave the kid alone.” It hurt a little, but he was sure you thought by his height and lankiness that he was a kid. But he was sure he was the same age as you, or at least around the same age.

Steve watched in horror as Michael lay his palm flat over your face and push you backward, your back hitting the trunk of the car and without realizing he was even doing it, swung forward and connected his fist with Michael’s jaw.

The next thing he knew he was sitting in his living room with a bag of frozen peas on his eye, held there by your hand and wrapped in a dish cloth.

“My Ma’s a nurse.” He’d told you, “She works nights.” With no one to take care of him you helped him home, the sleeve of your dress ripped and a bruise blossoming on your arm. He was dizzy and unsure how it happened.

“I don’t know if you were really brave back there or really stupid.” He winced at the cold touch of the frozen peas and shivered when his hand covered yours, holding it to his own head.

He remembered seeing you yell at Michael. You threw something at your boyfriend, and Steve remembered you helping him off the ground. His head ringing.

“Are you going to be okay?” If you leave him. He doesn’t want you to. You smell soft like clean linens and cotton. Lemon.

“I should really walk you home.” He said. So he did. And he mapped out the slope of your nose and the way your lips curled. He watched you tilt your head as you debated something about the movie you didn’t get to finish. And he knew then, he knew then that he was going to marry you.

It was good. Really good at first. You were so bright and full of life. Happy. Your smile would pull the sorrow from his body. The soreness from his bones. He’d been so sore the summer he hit his growth spurt. But you’d been with him the whole time.

He could see it now looking back, the melancholy. The odd blue and grey moments that seeped in at the edges of your ray of sun. The days where you hadn’t seen him because you were feeling under the weather. Laid up in bed without visitors.

Your Pa warned him not to marry you.

“She’s not fit for it, son.” A hand on his shoulder when he asked your Pa for permission to marry you. “We shouldn’t have even let it get this far.”

He didn’t understand. Your Parents wanted you to be locked away. Like you’d just stay home with them for the rest of your life. “Her fits,” Your Ma told him, “She’s not what you would want in a wife.” But he loved you. And he reasoned those bad days were worth how good the good days were.

You turned him down initially, crying in your back garden. His knee in the grass as he looked up at you hopeful. “You don’t want to marry me.”

“But I do,” He assured you, “Baby… I love you.” In sickness and in health. He wanted to be by you through it all. He couldn’t imagine his future without you. “I want to marry you.” So he did.

He’d never been happier than on your wedding day. Something that happened much to your parent’s chagrin. He remembers crying, choked up when you walked down the aisle towards him.

The happiest day you’d had in a while. He could see it on your face. Cheeks sore from smiling and many kisses, a soft touch and bubbly champagne. It took those innocent, sweet, loving kisses into something a little more lustful. Timid touches of the first time, for both of you. It was over embarrassingly quick and left him wondering how he could do better next time, wondering if you’d even had the time to enjoy it.

You’d gotten pregnant almost immediately. A joy.

You were so happy, a little sick, but happy. You were glowing and flushed, a kiss goodbye in the morning as he went to work and dinner on the table when he’d gotten home.

But it didn’t last.

The horror of that scarred you. The blood you’d woken up in. A miscarriage a few months into the pregnancy. Not even long enough to show.

That was the first time in the marriage that you hadn’t been able to get out of bed. Steve remembers the routine. Kissing you awake, you’d smile and hum. He would get in the shower and you would start breakfast. He’d find you in the kitchen and wrap his arms around you, hand splayed wide over the growing life inside of you.

And then it was gone in an instant. He would try to kiss you awake and you’d push him away. Weepy and tired. It had begun a downward spiral that he didn’t know how to help. This was met with a snarky comment by your Ma. An ‘I told you so’. It didn’t help.

So he hired someone to help you around the house. Someone to cook and clean. Lucille who could keep you company while he was at work. And you eventually came around. You were happier, but the shadow was always there. A little emptiness in your eyes when you would gaze off into the back yard. The vacantness when he would ask you a question.

This is what they meant. Your parents. That’s what Steve thought when you screamed and cried, throwing things at him. The simple question of whether you should try again. “I’m sorry,” You said later, your hand over your face sunken down on the bathroom floor. The tile hard on his knees as he sunk down to sit beside you, pulling you into his arms. “I’m so sorry.” It broke his heart.

“It’s okay sweetheart.” A kiss to your hair, “We don’t have to.” This was enough. But it didn’t stop another pregnancy from happening. Less happiness this time. But you seemed to cheer at the thought. The prospect. He would find you in the kitchen with Lucille instead of her coming to wake you later. He bought you seeds when you said you wanted to try to plant in the back garden. Pounds of mulch and fertilizer he helped you lay over the weekend. Little sprouts of zucchini and your attempt at watermelon.

He was naïve. He thought you’d been happy this whole time. When the entire pregnancy you were just waiting to wake up in blood. The death of another child. The fear of that. You’d given birth to what would have been your second born. A sweet little boy you couldn’t bear to hold.

Full of cholic and wailing. He didn’t know what to do. Steve didn’t know how to help you and he felt useless, bottle feeding his son formula and staring at your back as you gazed vacantly at the wall.

He lay the boy in his bassinet, sleepy and full. And curled himself around you. He thought you’d be happy. Your baby was healthy. He thought maybe it was just the loss of your first child that made you so sad. He thought maybe you’d be okay now.

But you weren’t.

It only seemed to get worse. The anger, the yelling, the crying. The vacant stares and isolation.

“We should have locked her up.” Your Ma was unrelenting, “With the rest of them.” Steve asked them to stop coming around. He couldn’t imagine putting you away like that. His Ma told him about the asylum. How they treated people. You were better off with him.

He talked to a Doctor. Someone who might be able to help him, even if he was a little biased.

“She has depression.” Simple. Easy. “We can do electroshock therapy in these instances, usually.” He didn’t know what else to do. So he made the appointment.

You screamed at him that night. Told him no. You’d broken a lamp. Sobbing and shaking, “You think I’m crazy.”

“No, sweetheart, I just want to help you.” A sniffle, a plead. “This is what the Doctor recommends.” You shake your head, grabbing a fist full of hair.

“I don’t like it.” You cry, “I don’t want to. I’ll try harder.” You reason, and he looks at you with despair. “I’ll try harder.”

“I just want you to be happy.” He cries. He doesn’t know what to do. And for the first time he really understands that you don’t know what to do either. He cancels the appointment.

That night you wrap yourself around him and he holds you. “I don’t know how to be happy.” You whisper into his neck, “I do want to be happy.” A kiss to your cheek.

“We’ll figure it out.” He truly believed it.

The next day you were a little less blue and he woke you with those soft kisses and you didn’t push him away. Baby James, who had always been restless found comfort in your arms, laying on your chest while sitting in your lap. The sweet babe’s hair curled in your finger while you read the paper, chatting softly to Lucille when Steve came down for breakfast.

It gave him hope.

You started talking to him. He started accommodating you better. Helping where he could and standing back when he couldn’t. There were still those days dipped in blue. Days where you couldn’t get out of bed and where you didn’t take care of yourself. The days where he would bring you what you needed and leave you alone. But then there were days where you’d beat him from bed. You’d make breakfast like you used to, James on your hip. Singing in the kitchen.

Days where he would find those little bits of you that he remembered and not the person you fought against. But it hits him like a realization that you were this person the whole time. They were every bit of you just like the playful smiles and the way you fixed his hair with your fingers, the way you straightened his tie and told him to be home on time. You were the same person even if you were just laying in bed and weepy and tired, a soft I’m sorry and curled in on yourself wanting to disappear.

You were the same person either way. And he loved you regardless.

You sit out in the back garden and get sun, while James toddled around. You said maybe you should have a barbecue for his birthday. How you went with Lucille to the store and saw sparklers for sale and bought three packs, how maybe you should give little James a sibling.

It was progress. Baby steps forward. Maybe it wouldn’t all be okay today, but someday? It would be.

And he wanted to be with you for all of it. He’d loved you the moment he saw you. And watching you, a full person in front of him and not the mirage of just a beautiful woman with a soft gaze, he knew that his gut instinct was right. He knew that he was right to want to love you. He knew that he was right to marry you and he knew that there would be blue days. And watching you chase after your son barefoot in the back garden, four new vegetables added to your garden and the soft way you’d wrap your arms around him later while he was brushing his teeth he realized that he wouldn’t change anything.

In sickness and in health, he wanted to be with you for all of it. Didn’t matter either way.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #chris evans #captain america #steve rogers x you #au

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years

Text

Warlock's Apprentice

Pairing: warlock!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, allusion to non-con, breeding, non-graphic depiction of violence, manhandling.

Words: 2373.

Summary: You walked side by side with the Devil.

_____________

You still had hard time believing you were walking down the Great Hall, stepping on the white marbled floors and doing your best not to shake while the members of the court stared down at you as if you were some fairytale creature. You saw giant mirrors hanging on blazing white walls and golden curtains, huge heavy chandeliers with thousands of candles, the statues of gold double eagles - everything here was so different compared to the gloomy tower of the Warlock where it was dark even during the brightest days.

Knowing he watched you out of the corner of his eye, you clenched your teeth, keeping your composure. You had to make a good impression, not gape at the walls like a country girl. Maybe you weren't an aristocrat like most of the people here, but you were the Shadow Enchanter, the Soldat's Apprentice, second only to him, and you had a power to reckon with.

"Keep your head up, girl." You heard Bucky's voice in your head and stiffened involuntary. "We are above them all."

Would you be charged with treason if anyone was to discover what your master was telling you? You bet you would.

You stepped on the blue carpet and finally saw a raised throne of gold at the end of the room, beautiful people in ostentatious clothes milling over it - all you saw were not faces but gowns of silk and brocade, fancy parade uniforms, ribbons, medals, and bawdricks. This extravagance was slowly making your stomach sick, but you thought of your completely black soldier's dress and felt a bit better abour yourself. Your master and you must have looked like two crows among the peacocks.

"The Warlock and Shadow Enchanter." Somebody's loud voice thundered, and you saw the King sitting on the golden throne, the Queen to his right, and two young men standing by their sides.

God, it was happening, truly.

The King looked like a man who carried the weight of the world on his thin shoulders, his face unhealthy pale - you could see the dark circles around his eyes regardless of how court magicians tried to cover them with their glamour charms. It was true then, all the rumors you heard of King's withering health. He was only in his forties, but, apparently, he would hardly last long.

The Queen, on the contrary, looked nothing like her plain husband, her body unmistakably strong, her forms magnificent and face looking fresh with ruddy, healthy glow in her cheeks. Her older son was much like her with the same grace in his features - Steven was his name, and he was the very same Prince Charming all the girls in the Academy were talking about when you were still studying there.

You wanted to stare shamelessly at his immensely handsome face, his eyes blue like southern sky in the summer, but you bit your tongue instead. You were no longer a girl dreaming of marrying princes and living in a high castle.

Then you glanced quickly at the other son, Peter, the one who was about your age. While Steven, undoubtedly, took after his mother, Peter reminded you of the King, although much younger and - you admitted with shame - much prettier. He had dark hair and dark eyes, yet there was light to his face. Maybe he lacked the same intimidating air the other royals had around them, but you saw his dignity, his kind and clever eyes shining with interest as the Warlock and you moved closer to the end of the room.

You liked the younger son, you thought and then cringed as you failed to keep your eyes off the princes once again.

"Please don't collapse if one of them decides to talk to you."

You clenched your teeth tighter, hating this awful manner with which your master intruded in your thoughts all the time.

You needed to keep calm. You were to give your vows to protect the royal family and your kingdom. And later... later you were most certainly to be invited to the royal ball organized in Warlock's honor to celebrate his return. Maybe you would get a glimpse of the princes there.

_____________

"Do you think I brought you here to give you to the prince?" His mocking tone turned dark, poisonous. "You think I've been teaching you magic all these years so you could marry one of those pathetic royals and keep giving them babies with Enchanter's blood running through their veins?"

You tried to move away from the Warlock, but he grabbed you by the arm and brought you closer, watching you wincing in pain.

"My task is to keep away the Great Shadow." You whispered, horrified with your teacher's sudden shift of mood and wishing to run to the door the moment he'd let you go. "It doesn't mean I should be celibate."

"And your husband has to be the prince, of course." Bucky grimaced and cupped your chin, staring at you with his scary light eyes from above. "Women. You're all the same. It is never enough for you, is it? I gave you the power to wreck the world, and all you want is to lay beneath a weakling wearing the crown."

You pushed him, chanting a little spell - you caught him by surprised and quickly stepped back, shiver running down your spine. You had seen the Warlock being furious many times, but never as mad as now, pacing back and forth your chamber like a caged beast, his hands clenched in fists. God, you knew he'd take it badly.

"I've done no wrong." You claimed in a shaky voice, thinking of whether you had to chant a barrier around yourself. "I didn't betray you. His Highness said nothing about marrying me or anything of this kind! We've only danced and talked about science and magic."

Bucky let out a laugh, and you felt your stomach twisting.

"Of course, my dear. No one will say anything to you until one day they'll come to your chambers and announce your wedding with prince without asking for your approval. By the way, sweetheart, which prince do you want?" The knot in your throat prevented you from defending yourself in front of your furious master. "I guess you like the young one more, but you caught the attention of the crown prince. You want to be the Queen, don't you? This is the only thing that matters for a little minx like you."

Biting down on your lip, you felt your eyes watering at his words. Why was he saying that? You had never been power-hungry. You cared little for royals and luxury surrounding them, and your master knew it better than anyone else. Why was he saying that? Why did he need to humiliate you for something you had never wished for even in your dreams?

"But I've got to tell you the truth." The man looked at you bitterly. "You'll never be their equal. They'll treat you like nothing but the tool to strengthen their bloodline, and that's all you got to be for them. You'll become one more of their Assets like I've been before."

"Am I not the Asset to you?" You blinked away the tears and stared at him with revulsion, feeling betrayed. "Weren't you going to use me for your own purpose? Don't tell me you wanted to set me free. What's the difference between you and the royal family?"

"Ungrateful little brat." He hissed and moved before you could create the shield.

The man gripped your hair in his fist and yanked you towards your bed, hovering above you and pushing your face in the mattress with all his force. Your cry was muffled by the blanket as you tried to fight him, but was easily outpowered, ropes binding your arms by your master's command. Your first thought was that Bucky wanted to strangle you in rage - you could hardly breathe beneath his large hand. Knowing his unyielding temperament, you did what you could to wriggle free, chanting more and more spells, yet he was able to undo your clumsy charms with ease.

"Stop struggling." He snarled, pushing your face into the bed. "Or I'll show what you get for talking to your master like that."

His angry voice sounded threatening - the last time you disregard it he whipped you that bad you couldn't sit properly for a week, but today everything might end up much worse that that, you thought. You always got to obey him no matter what.

Why did you had to now, though? You were no longer his little girl, hiding in his shadow. Today you were deemed worthy serving your King, and, in fact, the Warlock had no power over you anymore. Unfortunately, he was never bothered by formalities.

"I have fed you, clothed you, given you the roof above you head and shared my knowledge with you." You heard him growling in your ear as he let you breathe again, moving his palm from your head to the back of your neck. "And this is how you thank me for everything I've done for you?"

"I've served you all these years like a dog." You hissed. "I've cooked and cleaned, I've made so many potions I could make a fortune from it alone, I've protected the Tower when Wakandan magus came searching for you. I took all your beatings without saying a word!"

"I didn't beat you, I've trained you."

"You can call it whatever you like, master." You grinned wickedly at him, watching him with your peripheral vision.

His gaze darkened, and you realized you were only making it worse for yourself. Nevertheless, you refused to be intimidated by him, the man who had ruled over you, took advantage of you, forced you to obey his every whim and keep your mouth shut. You wouldn't let him treat you like that. Not anymore.

You felt his ragged breath on the top of your head, his huge body pressing yours into the mattress. He was the Winter Soldier, the Soldat, the Warlock, but you could bring the Great Shadow to the chamber with a snap of your fingers, and he could do nothing to fight it. The only issue with it was that the King would claim you a traitor instead of savior and send all his soldiers to hunt you till the end of your days.

Suddenly, you sensed Bucky's grip weakening, and then he withdrew his hand, letting you move away from him that very second, ropes falling on the bed sheets. His eyes were as cold as a winter night when he stared at you, crawling away from him on the bed.

"Do you want the crown, Y/N?" The man asked sharply, and you narrowed your eyes at him.

"I want someone to love me." You said angrily. "I want to be treated kindly. I want to feel appreciated. I want all the things you would never give me, master."

For a moment you thought Bucky looked hurt before he was on you again, his hands clenching yours and blocking your charms. As you stared at his face, his expression enraged, you growled just like him.

"Rot in Hell." You barked, almost ready to call the Shadow.

"I've been rotting long before you were born, little girl."

He lowered himself until his forehead touched yours, and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. You saw his anger disappearing, but you didn't feel a delicious sense of relief, anxiety washing over you even more.

"They've taken away all I had. They stripped me of any family and friends, my comrades, anything I treasured, and they want to snatch you away from me all the same." He whispered lowly, watching you frown. "Stay with me, and I'll make you a saint in the eyes of people. You're the Shadow Enchanter, you're above all the royals hiding in this wretched place."

"But you want me beneath you." You said, deeply hurt at his words and his desire to control you even when you thought he deemed you worthy of his trust. "Above them all, but beneath you. Don't you see I want to be neither queen nor saint? All I ever wanted was to be treated fairly, and you denied me this. You're keep doing it even now."

Suddenly, you realized tears were streaming down your face and making the pillow beneath you wet.

"What have I done to you? I loved you with all my heart, and you mocked me for it. You've made me force these feelings down my throat. I wanted you to be proud of me, value me, tell me I'm good enough, but you didn't. Now you get mad because someone else dared to do it?"

His eyes went wide at your confession.

"Did you love me? Did you ever love me?"

"I did. I even dreamt of marrying you." You bit back a cry, angry at yourself for telling him the truth when all you wanted was to spit in his face. "Imagine, master, I hoped to bear your children. But if you don't want it, maybe one day someone else would."

"I do. I want it."

You winced from humiliation and a deep sense of shame, your face flushed.

Of course, now he'd say whatever you wanted to hear from him to make you comply again. He'd play with your feelings as he had always done, and in the end you won't ever become the true Shadow Enchanter, you'd always be the Warlock's faithful Apprentice and nothing else.

"Do you think I can believe you now?" You let out a quiet laugh, staring at him with resentment and hate.

"I don't need you to believe me." He said and pressed his dry chapped lips to your forehead. "I'll show you. I'll show you that you're wrong."

Bucky moved slightly, and you felt the bulge in his pants against your thigh. Oh Gods.

"No, no, master, please-"

"I'll make you a saint. I'll put a crown on your pretty head." His whisper burnt your ear when his nose brushed against your temple. "I'll give you all the things you deserve, and no prince will take you away from me."

___________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @void-hoechlin @abyssaint

#dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #yandere

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anogete · 4 years

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Watch me vomit up my thoughts

It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I’m sorry I’ve disappeared on everyone. It’s been... a year. I think that probably goes for everyone, not just me. If you’re interested in a personal life update, then read on. If you’re looking for an update on my writing then I regret to inform you that I haven’t written a single thing this year. Maybe next year, though. There is always next year, right? I think I saw a blurb that we’re getting Sam and Bucky back in March. And Loki shortly after. Maybe that will be my inspiration.

I’m fortunate enough to have a job that lets me comfortably work from home. I’m also fortunate enough to own a home. And my last blessing is that I don’t have kids, so I didn’t have to figure out the nightmare of childcare and home schooling like some of you. My library on the second floor of the house has been my office since mid-March. I’ve been transitioning into the Associate Financial Advisor roll this year and that has been going well. I’m supporting the clients I’ve worked with as an assistant for the past nine years, so it’s been easy-going. I’m able to order my groceries for pick up to avoid going in the stores and I live in an neighborhood where it is easy to get delivery from restaurants. I’m incredibly lucky to have all these things going for me and I am thankful every damn day.

I fell into a bit of a funk this spring and early summer, but managed to pull myself out of it in August. I started planning my meals, walking 2-5 miles every day, and exercising on the Peloton bike I bought a year ago. I also started reading again and zipped through almost 50 books between June and now. By November, I was feeling strong and healthy. I felt like I had found a balance between work and activity and self-care. I was still coming to terms with my grandma passing in March of last year and with Ferguson (my sweet doggo) passing in September of last year. But I was trying and things were getting better. I felt like I had my feet underneath me.

Lemme stop you here if you don’t want to read about death and some general medical stuff. Because that’s mostly what you’re getting from here on out.

On November 21st, my mom texted me at 5:30am. I got it right away because I usually wake up around that time, alarm or not. She said she had dropped my dad off at the hospital because he was having difficulty breathing. Apparently, he’d been feeling bad for a week, but insisted to everyone that it was just his sinuses draining. I called her and began questioning her like I was cross-examining a star witness. I was able to piece together a really fucking shitty story.

My dad always went to a friend’s house on Friday evenings to have a couple beers and hang out. We’d all warned him since March that he needed to stop, but he insisted it was fine. He bought into a lot of the cavalier attitude that the Trump fans have over this virus. Plus, he was 64-years-old and didn’t take any medication so he probably thought it was no big deal. He spent a few hours at his friend’s house on November 6th. Unbeknownst to anyone at the time, he received a call from that friend on November 11th that the friend and the friend’s wife had tested positive for COVID. He didn’t share this info with my mother, my brothers, or my uncle, all of whom had been near him. By November 15th, he was coughing but insisted it was drainage when my mom suggested he take something for it and go to the doctor. By November 18th, he was worse and admitted to my mom that his friend had tested positive but that he hadn’t seen him for almost two weeks so his problems were just sinus-related and not COVID. My mom hates confrontation, so she accepted this and didn’t tell anyone, including me and my brothers. By November 19th, he had a fever and was having trouble breathing along with a persistent cough. He finally agreed to take some cold medicine, but refused to call his doctor’s office despite my mom asking him many, many times. At 4:30am on November 21st, he woke my mom and asked her to take him to the hospital because he couldn’t breathe well. She dropped him off and returned home to text me since they wouldn’t allow her in the building. She also texted my brothers, who admitted that they felt like they’d had a cold for several days. I live 4 hours away and haven’t traveled since March, so I hadn’t seen any of them.

A nurse called my mom a couple hours after she dropped my dad off to tell her that he was positive for COVID and pneumonia and they were admitting him to put him on a bipap. From what I understand, that’s the oxygen mask that pushes air into your lungs. Later that day, the health department called my mom and told her to quarantine for two weeks. My mom cooperated and gave them my brothers’ phone number (they live together), my uncle’s phone number, and the name and number of the person we suspected my dad was infected by (his friend). My brothers opted to get tested and were positive. They quarantined for two weeks and had mild to moderate symptoms (brief fever, very tired, cough, drainage). My mom had virtually no symptoms with the exception of some drainage that she took Mucinex for. She didn’t get tested, but she lived and slept in the same bed with my dad for a week while he was symptomatic. If my brothers got it from 30 minutes in the same room as him, surely she got it as well. My uncle and his son got tested, but they were negative.

My dad was cooperative with the doctor and nurses at first, but as the first day wore on he became irritated. He’d been without his chewing tobacco (yes, I know: eww) for several hours and was going through nicotine withdrawal, but wouldn’t admit that to the nurses or doctor. The next day he was put in ICU, still on the bipap, and even more unruly and rude to the staff taking care of him. They called my mom to ask her to talk to him and convince him to cooperate. They said if he couldn’t recover on the bipap and required a ventilator then “things would be very bad.” My mom tried to talk to him by text and he just continued to insist that he was well enough to come home.

I used to be close to my dad when I was a kid, but we’d grown apart over my adulthood. Over the past 20 years, my dad morphed into someone different. Everyone around him, especially my grandmother, told me they saw this happen the same as I did. The result was that my dad became someone I didn’t like and didn’t want to spend time with. He also didn’t seem to know how to talk to me anymore. To be fair, I didn’t give him much help in that regard. I texted him to see how he was doing and the conversation quickly devolved into him complaining about the care and insisting he was well enough to come home. I tried to reason with him and appeal to his love for my mom by saying that my fear was him coming home and giving her the virus. He told me that he’d decided he was no longer contagious and this was just a bunch of bullshit. This conversation via text continued through Monday and Tuesday (November 23rd and 24th), but it took a turn for the delusional. The doctor can only assume that the virus and the lack of oxygen had resulted in hallucinations and delusions. My dad told my mother and I that he was in an office building owned by a man named Mr. Pritt. He said he was the only patient and that this man was having his workers experiment on him and that they would eventually kill him. He demanded that we come get him immediately so he could recover at home. When we told him he’d die if he came home because he was too sick, he insisted he wasn’t sick at all and became very angry with us. He accused both my mom and I of conspiring to kill him because we wouldn’t help him. One day he told me that I’d confirmed what he’d known all along. I asked him what that was and he said, “That I always loved you more than you loved me.” This really hurt because even though I knew he was loopy, I also knew that he’d probably actually had that though before.

He began refusing treatment on those days and wouldn’t accept the steroids they were trying to give him and raised hell when they tried to take him for a chest x-ray. He also told them he didn’t want to be placed on a ventilator even though he had agreed to one when he was admitted. He was texting all of his friends and telling them he needed a ride home. He attempted to get up and leave the hospital twice, falling in the floor both times because he was so weak from lack of oxygen once he took the mask off. He also told my mom and I that he was secretly removing the mask when the nurses couldn’t see to prove to them that he wasn’t sick. He was taking and sending blurry pictures to us of the room as “evidence.” He told my mom to forward the pictures to “the feds.” The pictures were of his hospital bed, the whiteboard with his nurses’ and doctor’s names on it, his IVs, etc. By the morning of Wednesday, the 25th, I was getting some off-the-wall texts from him. He was begging us to come check him out of the hospital at that point and we were trying to play along and tell him we were getting everything in order for him to come home soon. Eventually, he told me that he wasn’t getting out of there alive and that he loved me. I told him I loved him too and begged him to do whatever the doctor said because the doctor wanted to help him get better.

A few minutes later, the nurse called my mom and asked if she’d been on the phone with my dad. My mom said she and I hadn’t spoken to him by any way other than text since he arrived at the hospital. The nurse said he had been on the phone with a woman, trying to convince her to come get him. The nurse made him put the call on speaker so she could tell the woman that he wasn’t well enough to leave. Because she was concerned that her message didn’t get through before my dad hung up, she called my mom to make sure he hadn’t convinced my mom to check him out against medical advice. My mom assured her that we had no intention of breaking him out of the hospital, but she didn’t know who the woman was. It wasn’t her or me. We called a long-time former co-worker of my dad’s that I’ve known since I was a kid and she said she hadn’t talked to him. We called his best friend and asked if he’d called and spoken to the man’s wife. Not her either. More on this later. I’m sure you know where it’s going.

We were stumped, but didn’t have time to deal with it because the nurse practitioner called and told my mom that my dad was delusional and could no longer make his own decisions. They said he had no chance of survival if they didn’t put him on a ventilator immediately. My mom called me. I told her to agree to it. The nurse called her back and gave the phone to my dad. He had agreed to the ventilator as well and wanted to tell my mom that he loved her and me and my brothers and his dog. His speech was slurred and muffled from the bipap mask, but she at least heard that. They intubated him right after the call. He was on a paralytic for a week. When they backed off on the paralytic, they had to increase his oxygen. A week later, the nurse tried to kindly tell us that he wasn’t getting better and his chances of survival were low. She suggested we start to talk about turning off the ventilator and letting him go. We did talk about that, which was very upsetting for everyone, but the doctor said he’d been on the ventilator for two weeks and we’d give him one more week to see what happens. By this point, he no longer had pneumonia. But the damage COVID did to his lungs couldn’t be repaired.

The ventilator was on full blast (highest pressure, highest oxygen) just to keep him somewhat stable. The days were ticking by and he still wasn’t making progress. Any step forward was followed by a bigger step back. My mom would call and get the update from the nurse most days, but I did call myself a few days. When I’d call and talk to the nurse, I’d get a grim picture that my mom didn’t seem to get or understand. I talked to her on December 12th and asked her if she was trying to protect my brothers and I or if she really thought he was going to get better. She admitted that she’d had a feeling for days that he wasn’t going to get better. We decided to just wait for the doctor to call. The nurse called my mom on Monday, December 14th and told her that my dad’s blood pressure was all over the place and they were struggling to keep him stable, that the ventilator was turned up to the highest settings and it was barely enough to keep him going. My mom texted me and told me she asked them to call me. The doctor called me within about 20 minutes and basically told me that my dad wasn’t going to make it. They’d had him on a ventilator for 19 days and within a couple days his throat tissue would likely become necrotic from the pressure of the cuff keeping the tube in place. They could only continue the ventilator if they could put in a trach and he wasn’t stable enough for that. In addition, he needed more support than the ventilator could provide. I was told he was either going to go into cardiac arrest while on the ventilator and die or they’d be forced to take him off the ventilator because of the damage to his throat. The most damning thing he told me was that he’d removed the sedation but my dad didn’t wake. He wasn’t responsive, wouldn’t squeeze their hands, wouldn’t flinch when they tested his reflexes, nothing.

I was told we could come sit with him and say goodbye when the ventilator was removed. I asked when and the doctor said soon. I live 4 hours from my parents, so I told him I’d leave right away and have my mom call to make arrangements for me to come to the hospital. I called my mom and told her all this and asked her to let the hospital know. I packed a bag and rushed out the door. On my way out of town, the doctor called me back and asked if I was on my way. My mom had told them that we’d come by the next morning and he was worried my dad wouldn’t make it through the night. So, I had to have a shitty conversation with my mom about how we couldn’t schedule my dad’s death for 7am on Tuesday, that it needed to happen at 8pm on Monday. I do not recommend these types of calls.

I got into town around 7pm and picked my mom up because she’d decided she wanted to come with me. My brothers said they couldn’t handle it and decided to stay at my mom’s house. My mom and I were taken to the COVID floor, given gowns, and gloves, told he was COVID positive so we’d need to continue to wear our cloth masks (no medical mask, is that safe?!), and escorted to his room in the ICU. Guys, he looked so fucking tired and so sad. It was heartbreaking. The nurse said their ICU was full and most of the patients were in the same shape as my dad. We talked to him for a few minutes, held his hand and all that shit. He didn’t respond in any way, so I don’t know if he was even there. We stepped out of the room while they removed the tube and gave him some medicine. When we went back in, his breaths were labored and it looked like he was gasping for air. My mom almost lost it because she wasn’t expecting that. I told her she could go wait in the hall and I’d stay with him until he passed. The nurse was kind enough to give him a little more medicine to make it less dramatic, but it was still difficult watching him breathe in that way. My mom sat so she couldn’t see his head to make things easier on herself. We sat there with him for about 40 minutes before he passed away at 8:32pm on Monday, the 14th.

I stayed with my mom last week and helped her arrange a private graveside service and the burial. She wanted to do a funeral and I thought that was the worst idea, so we agreed on doing a celebration of life next year when things are a little better (hopefully). To my knowledge, I haven’t had the virus. I operated under the assumption that my mom and brothers had it and were immune for now and wouldn’t transmit it. So, I was able to be with them without mask, but I did wear a mask when anyone else was around. I can’t say the same for the fucking funeral director and the locksmith’s employee who opened my dad’s safe for us, though. I live in a bigger city and mask wearing is pretty wide-spread here, but I saw so many people in my hometown (a more rural area) who didn’t bother with them.

Anyway, while all these graveside preparations are going on my mom goes through the bag of personal items from my dad that the hospital gave us. She tossed his clothes in the washer and placed his two rings into a bag to give to the funeral home so he could be buried in them. She also pulled out his wallet and his cell phone. His wallet has a picture that was obviously cut from an old driver’s license of a woman named Deb. Apparently, this woman lives in Florida and had attended junior high school with my dad. About two years ago, my parents took a trip to Florida and visited with her for several days. She even friended my mom on Facebook. So, the old driver’s license picture of her was very weird. What was even more disturbing? His wallet also contained a plastic bag of hair that very obviously is not my mom’s. And there was a piece of paper with three phone numbers on it. His phone was locked with a PIN and was set to wipe itself after 20 incorrect tries. I did tried to break into it, but wasn’t successful. My mom admitted that she suspected he’d been talking to someone on his phone for years, but she never directly confronted him about it. She’d just make comments about him always texting on his phone and being secretive. Two Christmases ago he bought her a ring at a store that she has an online login to. This particular store posts the receipts for all purchases linked to the customer’s account to the website. She saw that my dad had purchased two pieces of jewelry even though she only received one. My dad has never in his life bought me a Christmas present without my mom assisting, so she knew it wasn’t for me. She still didn’t confront him, though. She just told him that she could see the itemized receipts online.

I sympathized with my mom because I’ve experienced the infidelity of a partner in a relationship and if I were her then I’d want to know. But I also told her that I don’t know digging into it will make things any better and may not even give her the truth. He’s gone and there is nothing that can be done about that or anything else. While I was running errands for her the day before the graveside service, she messaged Deb in Florida and asked if she wanted her picture back. She also called the three phone numbers in his wallet. One went to Deb. The other two were the cell phone and work phone of my dad’s best friend’s wife, Anne. The same friend and wife who likely gave the virus to my dad. My mom told me when I got back that she’d done this and admitted she’d always felt like my dad was talking to Anne and might have an inappropriate relationship with her. I suspect my mom is right. Gut instinct is usually accurate. She said she didn’t think anything physical was going on with Deb, but she did think my dad was carrying on a flirtatious relationship with her via text. In both cases, he tried to hide it. And if you hide it, then you know it’s wrong. That night Deb messaged my mom back and said she had heard about what happened to my dad and was very sorry. She said that my dad was always clear that he was married and nothing went on that was inappropriate, but that he gave her someone to talk to when her husband was sick and dying five years earlier and they’d always kept in contact. Again, I don’t think my mom can count on anyone to give her the full story without spin or deceit. A couple days ago, she texted me a picture of a receipt from my dad’s truck. It was from last Christmas from a department store. It had two pieces of jewelry on it. She looked them both up using the UPCs listed and found the necklace he gave her last year and a ring she doesn’t recognize. We don’t know if he was giving this jewelry to Deb in Florida or Anne, his friend’s wife. Or someone else we don’t even know about. And we’re probably never going to know. Do I want to call Deb and Anne and tell them I want to full story? Fuck yeah. Do I think it will fix anything? Fuck no.

TL;DR? I finally found some balance in my life late this summer. This balance was destroyed when my dad got COVID and died after three weeks in the hospital. And when you’ve already got a not-so-great relationship with your dad, you get all kinds of feels when he dies in a traumatic way and then you find out he’s been screwing around on your mom. I also have lots of anger toward him for knowingly exposing my other family members to the virus simply because he didn’t want to own up to getting it after doing something we’d all told him to stop doing.

Health-wise? I think I’m okay. It’s been almost ten days since I was with him in the hospital and seven days since his graveside service. I haven’t had any symptoms yet and I think most people show symptoms by now. Regardless, I’ve been at home since I returned last Thursday evening and I intend to stay home until January 2nd. My boyfriend is also home and will be here until January 2nd as well. Just to be safe. My brothers are mostly recovered, but both still have a bit of a cough. My mom never had much in the way of symptoms and seems fine. My dad was 64 and overweight. We found out once he was admitted to the hospital that his regular doctor had told him he was a diabetic and my dad insisted on “treating” that with cinnamon instead of actual medicine. Other than those things, he didn’t have any health concerns. Be careful, ya’ll.

#Anogete in real life #personal #covid_19 #fuck covid #family #death

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megalony · 4 years

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Family of six- Part 2

This is the second part of my new Murderer! Ben Hardy series that I hope everyone will enjoy, feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod

Murderer! Ben masterlist

Series masterlist

Summary: Ben and (Y/n) have a son together and are pregnant again but things take a worrisome turn when (Y/n) develops severe morning sickness and they find out they’re having triplets.

Enjoy.

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"(Y/n) Hardy?"

The moment (Y/n) heard her name called out it felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders but another weight had settled down in her stomach. (Y/n) had been very close to cancelling this appointment with the midwife today with how badly she felt when she woke up but Ben wasn't having it. He didn't care if he had to carry her in, he wanted someone to check on his wife and help her because she wasn't well at all.

She felt Ben's arm securing around her waist when they both stood up and he could almost see all the blood draining from her head and going everywhere else in her body.

(Y/n) was happy the moment they made it into the room where she could slump down into a chair.

"Okay, how are you doing (Y/n)... are you feeling alright today?" The midwife they knew as Mandy sat down in the chair opposite to where (Y/n) and Ben were sitting. She had a kind smile on her face but a concerned look in her eyes when she seemed to take in (Y/n)'s appearance. She could see (Y/n) wasn't feeling well by the way she was slumped in her chair and how she kept closing her eyes like she had a headache. (Y/n) also looked like she was trying very hard to control her breathing in a way that implied she was trying to stop herself from being sick.

"I feel sick, I haven't been able to eat much over the past few weeks, I just keep bringing it back up."

"Are you finding it hard to keep fluids down too?" Mandy looked at her notes on the computer to her right before she looked back over at (Y/n).

"I haven't seen her keep anything down over the last week, not even water." Ben spoke up when (Y/n) bowed her head and closed her eyes like she just wanted to curl up and disappear to stop the feeling of being sick. She knew that she couldn't be sick right now because she hadn't eaten in over twelve hours and she had only managed a few sips of juice. Nothing but bile and water would be thrown back up right now.

"Right, I'd like to take your blood pressure and check your weight first if that's okay."

When (Y/n) nodded, Mandy got up and moved over to a drawer to get the band to check (Y/n)'s blood pressure. The black band felt like a shirt sleeve that was far too tight but it didn't get too tight or stay on (Y/n)'s arm long enough to become irritable before Mandy had gotten the results she was looking for.

"Now if you'd come and stand on the scales for me."

(Y/n) did as asked, trying to stop the dizziness from overtaking her mind when she stood up straight on the scales. It was very clear that whatever was going on with this pregnancy wasn't just normal morning sickness because (Y/n) knew many people who suffered morning sickness and they could still eat and drink. They were able to eat when the sickness wore off later in the day or early in the morning, (Y/n) couldn't do that at all.

"Let's sit you down on the bed ready for the scan." The tone of Mandy's voice was soothing and understanding and she took (Y/n)'s elbow to ensure she didn't stumble or fall when walking unevenly over to the bed. "You're blood pressure is lower than I'd like it to be and you've lost weight rather than putting any on. I think it's safe to say you have what we call Hyperemesis Gravidarum which is severe morning sickness."

A look of unease took over (Y/n)'s features and her eyes darted over to look at Ben when he walked over and sat down beside her. (Y/n) knew that with her not eating her health and that of the baby would be worse and at risk but it didn't click that not eating would mean she would lose weight. She just presumed that she would still put the weight on because she was pregnant.

"How long will it last?" (Y/n) could feel the nervousness in her voice as she asked the question she dreaded the answer to. She knew morning sickness varied from woman to woman but if this went on much longer she was going to end up in hospital.

"There's no definite answer but I would presume it will continue until at least the twenty week mark. But we can manage this so please don't look so worried, I'll prescribe you vitamins and some anti-emetics which will stop you from being sick and hopefully let you start to eat and drink and it might be best if I put you on steroids too since you're losing weight. Now, let's see this baby for the first time."

(Y/n) nodded and she knew Ben could almost feel the relief she felt when he took hold of her hand to try and calm her down. It was relieving to know it wasn't something more serious than this and that Mandy seemed sure it was something that could be helped and controlled. But Ben knew (Y/n) was more than relieved because she wouldn't have to go to hospital, at least not right now. She had been desperate to go home from the hospital when they had Billy and it had annoyed and frustrated her when she had to stay in for a week after his birth. (Y/n) never wanted to go to hospital unless it was completely necessary.

"I-is something wrong?" (Y/n) interlocked her fingers with Ben's as they both looked at the midwife who seemed to be either anxious or uneasy about something as she looked at the monitor.

"No, nothing's wrong. I think this is going to come as a shock to you both, but it looks like you're expecting triplets."

The moment those words passed through her lips (Y/n) felt her stomach churning like she was going to be sick and she looked at Ben when his hand clenched around hers like he was trying to cut off her circulation.

Three babies at once.

Three newborns to look after twenty four seven and a five year old. Ben had the kind of job where he was great at escaping the police but it had happened more than once where (Y/n) had had to wait three or four months for him to get out of jail and repeatedly go and give a false statement to the police. Ben worked hard at the club and he was finding it hard to balance work and family life, three more kids all at once was going to make that even harder on all of them.

Looking after Billy when he was a baby had been hard enough, what if one or all of the babies were hard to feed or were fussy? What if they wouldn't get into a sleep routine, what if Ben was working more or couldn't get as much time off so (Y/n) was left home with four children who needed constant care?

How was this pregnancy going to work out? Twins and triplets in pregnancies came with complications, (Y/n) might not get to full term, she might have complications during labour or have to go on bed rest or get ill. She could lose one of them at any point during the pregnancy if something went wrong.

"No..." (Y/n) shook her head but the look on Mandy's face showed that she wasn't joking or making this up. She turned the screen so that both parents could look at the black and grey mess that was supposed to resemble their babies.

"Here's baby one, two, and three is hiding right there."

Mandy slowly pointed out the small grey shapes to them and it hurt (Y/n) that the more she looked at the screen, the quicker she could decipher each blob into a baby. She didn't want three babies all at once, she didn't want the risks or complications or the stress and pressure that came with triplets. But she had always imagined herself with a big family and she didn't want to get rid of them.

"I can see this is a big surprise so I'll leave you alone for a few minutes and get a few copies of this printed for you. You're thirteen weeks along but with triplets you'll need a few extra scans and appointments so we can monitor you closely, especially with your morning sickness and weight loss. But everything else seems to be in order."

Mandy smiled kindly at them both before she left the room to give them a few moments to talk and gather themselves.

"Three babies... how are we going to cope?" (Y/n) turned her head to look at Ben as she slowly sat up straight and cleaned her stomach before pulling her shirt down. If it had already been hard coping when Billy had been born then (Y/n) didn't want to imagine how they were going to cope with four kids, three of whom would be newborns needing a lot of care and attention.

Work and money and their home weren't issues that they had to worry about which was something of a relief at least. (Y/n) worked as a carer which was frankly the opposite of Ben when he was a boxer by trade who wound up killing a lot of people. But she had a feeling that she wouldn't be working for very much longer with how badly she was feeling and now knowing she would have three newborns to care for.

Ben profited from the club alone but all the dodgy dealings he had going on behind closed doors meant he had a lot of money saved even with the money he spent on the club and his workers and his deals. But with how much Ben worked and how badly the club needed to be ruled with an iron fist, it meant four kids wasn't the best idea right now.

"We'll cope just fine, I'm already cutting down my hours at the club to be home with you and Billy-"

"The club doesn't run well without you there and you know it."

"My guys follow my rules, I'm sure I can snap them into shape enough so that they don't burn the place down while I'm not there. I'm not leaving you alone right now when you're not well and I'm not leaving you to look after Billy and three babies on your own."

Ben was in charge of the club and he made all the rules, he knew he could get his workers to follow his rules to the dot so that when he wasn't there nothing bad happened. It may not run as perfectly as it did when Ben was there but as long as the club still functioned and nothing went wrong it would be fine. He had to be home right now to look after (Y/n) and Billy and he certainly had to be there if they were now going to be having three newborns to look after.

He could tell that (Y/n) was on the verge of disagreeing with him so he cupped her face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers. He loved her and he knew they were more than capable of making this work.

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"Have you two not moved since I left this morning?" The smirk resting on Ben's lips was clear as he entered the living room and looked over at (Y/n) and Billy. The pair of them were laid on the sofa bundled under a cover with a few of Billy's books scattered about the sofa with them.

When Ben left to go to the club this morning he left them both much like they were now, curled up watching tv. For the past two weeks with (Y/n) feeling ill, Billy had been glued to her hip, staying on the sofa or in bed with her to keep her company. It was rather endearing to Ben to see how Billy was being sweet and trying to make (Y/n) feel better. Billy especially loved it this morning when Ben asked him to look after (Y/n) while he was at work, it made Billy feel grown up and important.

"We made dinner." Billy pulled the blanket up higher until it was tucked under his chin and a smile was playing on his lips as he watched Ben's movements.

He watched as Ben shrugged off his dark blue jacket and put his keys down on the coffee table before he sat down next to Billy who was now sat happily between both parents. Billy tugged on the cover wrapped around him and (Y/n) so that he could drape the end over Ben's lap so that he was laid under the covers with them.

"Oh did you, what did you make?"

"We made pasta."

"I'll have to try some then won't I. Why don't you go and get your mum another drink cause she needs her medicine now." Ben kissed Billy's forehead before watching him wriggle out from between both parents and scuttle to the kitchen. "How you feeling, baby?"

Ben moved over until his leg bumped against (Y/n)'s and he was close enough to run his fingers through her hair and brush it out of her eyes. The way he looked at her made (Y/n) feel like he was both admiring and studying her at the same time and it caused a shiver to run down her spine.

"Hungry, I didn't feel like eating earlier. Billy's been reading to me for the past hour to make me feel better." (Y/n) didn't feel amazing but she didn't feel like the world was spinning around her or that she was going to faint or throw up to no end. She had managed to find the energy to get up and go to the kitchen to make dinner with Billy which she hadn't done for the past week with how she had been feeling. And for once (Y/n) now felt a bit hungry instead of sick and she had been serenaded with stories by Billy because it was what both parents did for him when he was ill.

"You look more awake and lively than this morning. Have your meds then you can try and eat something with me."

Ben leaned over and cupped her face before he kissed her, feeling a bit more at ease since (Y/n) looked better than she did this morning. She wasn't laid with no energy to move or gagging or curled up trying to stop herself from being sick. She just had to eat and actually keep something down and she might start to feel and get better.

He could feel (Y/n) smiling into the kiss and the way she bit her lower lip when he kissed the corner and edge of her mouth before pulling back with a sly grin on his face. Ben leaned his head to the right when (Y/n) slowly curled her arms around his neck and pressed her forehead against his cheek. (Y/n) watched with a smile as Ben picked up the black bag on the table that (Y/n) used to use as a make up bag.

She had been given steroids, vitamin tablets, tablets to stop her being sick and supplement powder sachets for her drink if she didn't manage to eat anything. Ben never seemed to forget or miss anything like (Y/n) did, she could remember to take her tablets in the morning and then an hour later she could forget to take them. Ben knew how many anti-emetics she could take a day and what times she should take them and it was so much easier for (Y/n) if Ben helped and reminded her when and what to take.

(Y/n) took the steroids and anti-emetics in the morning, the vitamins around this time with the emetics again which she also had at night and then she could have the sachets whenever she thought she needed them if she hadn't eaten or drank anything.

"Alright baby, take these two." Ben handed (Y/n) the two small circular tablets and what was left of her juice and watched as she tipped her head back to make sure she could swallow them. Tablets never usually came as much of a problem to (Y/n) but with the way she was feeling lately even swallowing tablets was hard.

Ben got the antiemetic medication into the syringe it came with but when he gave it to (Y/n) she knew the look in his eyes. She had to take this three times a day because of how badly she was being sick and not intaking any fluids and it was in liquid form because she couldn't take many tablets without being sick. But for the past three days she had been on the medication, most of the time she had thrown it back up so it wasn't getting into her system.

"Please try and keep this one down."

(Y/n) nodded as she took the syringe from Ben and cringed as she swallowed the medicine that made her throat feel dry and her stomach feel unsettled. She knew he wasn't mad at her and he knew she couldn't help if she threw up but if she couldn't keep the medication down that was meant to stop her from being sick then they would have to go to the hospital.

With a sigh, (Y/n) leaned her head on Ben's shoulder as his arm circled around her waist to hold her to his side. The small moment of peace that the couple found themselves in didn't last long before Billy was carefully walking back over to them with a glass of blackcurrant juice clasped carefully between his small hands.

"Thank you baby." (Y/n) smiled when Billy put the drink down on the coffee table before he turned and looked at both parents for a moment.

"Daddy move, you're in my place!" Billy hopped up onto Ben's lap and then wriggled around until Ben sighed and let Billy burrow his way in between him and (Y/n). He watched with a smile and roll of his eyes as Billy moved his way under (Y/n)'s arm so he could sit tucked up by her side like he had been doing before Ben came home. It made Ben smile more because Billy was just as attached to (Y/n) as Ben was, (Y/n) always commented on how Billy was a double of Ben and now he was starting to act like him too.

"I think it's my place to be next to your mum but I'll let you off this one. I'm gonna go get some of that pasta."

Ben shook his head jokingly at his boy before he made his way into the kitchen, seeing that (Y/n) had plated up pasta for them both so he just had to heat it up. It was surprising but very good for Ben to se that (Y/n) felt well enough to cook and move about the house. He had taken to coming home at dinner and making them all something to eat or making stuff and putting it in the fridge to make it easier for (Y/n). He didn't want her overdoing anything and making herself feel worse.

He put the plate in the microwave and flicked the kettle on to make a drink before he leaned back against the counter and went on his phone for a few moments. He had left Andrew in charge of the club but everything was set out for the day and the rotas and finances were done so Ben was hopeful nothing would happen or go wrong whilst he was home today.

He was alternating between taking the mornings off and having the afternoons off to vary things at the club and at home. He couldn't even think about doing a full day at the club yet until he knew for certain (Y/n) was well enough to be on her own with Billy.

"Daddy! Daddy mummy's sick!"

Ben barely took two sips of his coffee before he almost dropped his cup back down on the counter at the sound of Billy's panicked voice. He made his way quickly back into the living room but Ben couldn't help the way his lips curled in distaste and his blood started to boil.

(Y/n) didn't have the sick bucket downstairs with her and there was nothing else to use but the blanket over her lap. She huddled it in her hands and threw up into it, curling in on herself as gagged, feeling like she couldn't breathe. She could feel Billy patting her back but he didn't know what else to do but to look over at Ben with rather worried eyes.

"Buddy, go upstairs for me and put the tv on in our room, I'm gonna help your mum then take her up to bed." Ben gently hooked his hands under Billy's arms and picked him up from the sofa to place him down to his feet. He didn't want Billy to have to watch (Y/n) being sick and clearly feeling unwell and he knew she wouldn't want Billy to see her like this either. The five year old looked up at Ben and it was clear he wanted to protest but he didn't when Ben patted his back and gave him a nudge towards the doorway.

The moment Billy was out of sight Ben sat down next to (Y/n), moving his hand to her back as his other hand rubbed up and down her arm.

"Baby, baby just breathe it's okay." Ben rubbed his hand a bit harder between (Y/n)'s shoulderblades to try and help her catch her breath back.

Ben dared to look over (Y/n)'s shoulder and see the blanket between her legs but it only made his jaw tighten when he saw that she had thrown up the antiemetic medication and the vitamins he gave her less than twenty minutes ago. She couldn't carry on like this, she had to go to hospital if she was throwing her medication back up that was supposed to stop her from being sick. The midwife said they could control this but Ben could clearly see that things were getting out of control and he didn't like anything out of his control.

"I d-don't like this Ben, I can't even take the meds they gave me." The way (Y/n) sobbed at the end of her words made Ben shiver and his muscles tense. He wanted nothing more than to control this and make (Y/n) better, he wanted her to have almost no morning sickness like when they had Billy instead of this.

"I know baby, give it an hour and then we'll try again with the meds and if not I'll take you to hospital. I can't have you getting any worse than this baby. Now let me take you up to bed."

Ben wasn't messing about, whenever (Y/n) got ill Ben would get to a certain point before he ended up carrying (Y/n) to the car and taking her to a doctor. It happened more times than either of them cared to admit but this time Ben knew (Y/n) wouldn't be arguing when he decided to take her to hospital because it was clear that was going to happen sooner rather than later.

(Y/n) didn't protest when Ben hooked her arms around his neck before he gently curled her legs around his hips so he could stand and pick her up. She rested her head in the crook of Ben's neck as his hands moved to her bum and he walked out the room. Ben could feel the curve of (Y/n)'s stomach pressing against his own and it sparked something inside of him because he loved the feel of her stomach when she was pregnant. But right now all he could think of was that she was still losing weight which she needed to gain for the three lives they created.

"You playing with my chain baby?" Ben moved his head to look at (Y/n) when he started walking up the stairs. He could feel the small silver chain around his neck moving and tugging against the back of his neck making him shiver.

(Y/n) hummed in his ear as she continued to move the chain around his neck. There was just something about the chain that always captured (Y/n)'s attention and when Billy was a baby he always used to pull and bite the chain. But (Y/n) knew exactly how it got to Ben when she messed with his chain and she liked the chain.

"You're lucky your ill." Ben growled quietly in (Y/n)'s ear and he could feel her smiling against his neck when he hit her bum. They both knew if (Y/n) wasn't sick she wouldn't get away with teasing him.

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