#this book has made me so unwell.

[iphigeniarising]

I could scream.

[fuckyeah-bears]

not bear related but i'm low key desperate to find someone to scream with. anyone here read the book Mysterious Skin by Scott Heim? i'll also settle for anyone who's seen the 2004 film adaptation

please i really really need someone to scream about this book with

[just-rogi]

.

[moe-broey]

FUCK YOUR FATHER FUCK YOUR FATHER FUVK YOUR FATHWR FU--

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[lovebugism]

hehe for your summer fic fest!

 “are you okay? is the heat getting to you?”  w/ shy!reader x steve harrington! <3

maybe something like established relationship (or not) and he knows shy!reader won’t ever complain :)

love ur writing <3

thanks so much for your request angel! hope you like it!! — the one where you get sunburnt and steve calls you his lobster as a declaration of love (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, 2k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

Steve emerges from the blue pool water with oversized goggles covering the top half of his face. They leave a soft red indention around his eyes when he shoves them to his forehead to push back his wild strands of wet hair.

His chest heaves with labored pants, lungs aching after being denied air for over three minutes. He blinks salt water from his eyes and squints across the patio. Your lounge chair has your beach towel thrown over it but is entirely vacant of you. 

His heart deflates with a boyish disappointment when he realizes you weren’t around to see him break his breath-holding record.

“Where’d she go?” Steve shouts to Robin over the sounds of splashing water and roughhousing teenage boys. 

The brunette girl looks up from her book and glances at the empty chair beside her. She turns back to him and shrugs, all cool with dark sunglasses over her eyes. “Um, I don’t know… She went inside, like, a minute ago, I think.”

Steve pouts. “So no one was keeping time?” he wonders with an unabashed whine.

“I was... Then I got bored.”

“Great. Thanks, Robin,” the boy deadpans. 

He backstrokes to the steps of the pool and tries to avoid the splash war between Lucas and Dustin on the way there. 

He wipes his dripping skin with a fluffy towel before wrapping it around his waist. His wet feet leave dark prints against the burning pavement, drying just as quickly as they’re made. He walks by Mike and Will sitting beneath the poolside cabana, and then by Robin who doesn’t look up from her book, as he heads to the backdoor.

Steve stumbles backward when the glass entrance slides open. Max and El giggle into their ice cream cones as they walk by him, paying him exactly zero attention as they go. They both wear matching Xena Warrior Princess t-shirts over their bathing suits.

“Can you guys save me one of those? Jeez,” Steve asks with a laugh, only half-joking in his complaint. “You’ve both had, like, ten since you got here.”

El smiles shyly at him, tilting her chin to her chest as she peers up at him through her lashes. Her cheeks reddened — a combination of misplaced embarrassment and sun exposure. 

Max is a lot more sneering with her glare. She arches an auburn brow in a challenging leer. “You should go get your girlfriend,” the redhead monotones just before licking at her vanilla cone.

Steve’s brows furrow. “What?”

“She looked sick,” El concurs with a firm nod.

“What do you mean she looked sick?”

“She means that she looked like she was seconds away from puking her guts out,” Max explains in her usual dramatic inflection. Her lip quirks at the look on Steve’s face, the corner of it stained with ice cream.

“Oh. Jesus. Okay,” Steve murmurs with a scrunched face — a mixture of concern and disgust. 

Worry blooms in his chest at the thought of you being unwell. He hates the idea that you might’ve felt sick and were too nervous to tell him. He loves how soft you are but despises how polite you are shyness. You’re still frightened of being a burden, even though Steve tells you all the time you don’t have to be scared of being human.

The cool air of his house makes his skin prickle with goosebumps. It soothes his reddened skin as he ascends the stairs on a quest to find you. The door to the main bathroom is shut. A yellow light glows beneath it. The soft hiss of the faucet sounds muffled in the hallway.

Steve taps his knuckles at the closed entrance — gently in a mindful attempt not to frighten you.

“Babe?” he calls, face absentmindedly contorted with worry. “Are you okay?”

You mumble something unintelligible in response. He can’t quite make it out. The distance and the sink drown out your soft voice.

“Can I come in?”

Again, you just mumble. 

Steve’s chest burns with a fleeting panic. He’s momentarily terrified that you’re halfway passed out on his bathroom floor, lying barely conscious on the tile. He opens the door, slowly at first, just in case you want to slam it in his face for barging in. He knows you’re too soft for that, though. 

When you don’t protest, he walks all the way in. The door squeaks when he shuts it behind him.

He finds you, not on the floor, but leaning against the sink. You’re drowning in the t-shirt he gave you to wear as a cover-up. It’s oversized even on him, so it swallows you whole entirely. You blink at him with wide, glassy eyes while you press a damp rag over your face. Your skin is tinted a warmer red after spending the afternoon in the sun.

You look beautiful, but very unlike yourself. Max wasn’t lying — you looked like you were seconds away from being sick all over his bathroom. He rushes to you, anyway.

“What happened?” Steve wonders quietly, brows pinched in concern. “Are you okay?”

You shake your head, slow and lazy.

“Was it too hot outside? Is the heat getting to you? Do I need to fight the sun?”

You nod this time, holding the cloth to the burning apple of your cheek.

“Shit, babe. I’m sorry—” He doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for, only that he feels the need to say it. 

He reaches out to touch you, to hug you to him so he can absorb all the sick you feel and take it all for himself — but you jerk back before his fingertips can reach you.

“Don’t,” you tell him quickly as you step backward. You drag the wet rag down to your chin and pout. “Don’t touch me. I think I might burn you.”

Steve grins a lopsided and very pink grin. “Yeah, I’ll take that risk, babe.”

When he reaches out to touch you this time, you don’t protest. 

You feel like an inferno. The cold rag is hardly making you cooler. Actually, you think your fiery skin might just be warming it all over again. 

It makes you feel sick — not a stomach kind of sick, or a simple-head cold kind of sick. Those you can fix pretty easily. This is different. Whatever this is. 

You feel icky all over, and with no real root to the problem, you don’t know how to fix it. You just have to hope the A.C. will eventually break through the barrier of fire dancing over your skin and that Steve’s magic touch will be able to help you through it.

His hands curl around your elbows, much cooler compared to how hot your skin feels. His fingertips just barely graze your arm before he jerks them away again. His face scrunches in a halfhearted frown, feigning hurt as he pulls back like you’ve burned him.

“Ooh,” he winces playfully.

You pout while Steve laughs at his own dumb joke.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he assures through his laughter.

He swipes his fingers over your cheek to smooth the damp hair sticking to your temple — maybe from sweat, or water from the rag, or a combination of both. His face contorts with concern all over again. “You are warm, though, babe. Like, crazy warm.”

“I think the sun is trying to burn me alive,” you monotone, only half-joking. 

Steve takes the damp rag from your weak, trembling hands. He sticks it beneath the running faucet to rewet it for you. When it’s sufficiently soaked, he wrings it out with one hand and turns the sink off with the other.

“Here. Up,” he commands with a halfhearted wave, motioning you to sit on the counter. 

You try your best to abide him, but you’re too tired to do anything more than rise to the tips of your toes. Steve helps urge you backwards with his broad hands on your hips, encouraging you further back until your feet are dangling off the ground.

He stands in between your thighs. You lean into his touch when he dabs the colder rag against your forehead.

“Why didn’t you say something earlier?” Steve wonders with worry softening his tone. “I coulda got you inside before it got this bad. And I would’ve made all those shitheads go home before they made it worse.”

“That’s why I didn’t wanna tell you,” you confess, slurring from the sudden exhaustion that settles heavy on top of you. He brings the rag to your right cheek and presses it there for a few beats. “Everyone’s having such a good time. I didn’t wanna ruin it because I’m a baby…”

Steve scoffs out a laugh and holds the cloth to your left cheek. “You’re not a baby because you’re melting like an ice cream cone, babe. That’s not your fault.”

“Well, no one else is getting a cold rag pressed against their face by Steve The Hair Harrington,” you retort in a tone so soft that he can’t tell if you’re joking or not. He figures you might be toeing the line between both, still halfway delirious in your heatstroke.

“Yeah. ‘Cause I don’t love them like I love you.”

You cower at his words, not expecting him to be so suddenly affectionate. 

You’ve had a hard time getting used to that — his incessantly flirtatious disposition. It’s hard having an aversion to compliments, but it’s harder dating someone who loves to give them. 

Steve smiles when he watches you go all shy. You always get so sheepish when he loves on you, so pretty in the way you get all bashful. It isn’t any wonder why he loves to do it so much.

“Feel any better?” the boy asks when the corner of your lip quirks in a shy half-smile.

“A little… Do I still look sick?” you question, blinking at him with your eyes not as glazed over. “Maybe don’t answer that,” you protest quickly after.

Steve drops the rag to the counter and drags his knuckle across your cheek. Your skin isn’t quite as warm, but it still glows a faint red — obviously sun-kissed. “You look beautiful, babe. You always do. Even though you kinda look like a lobster.”

“I just said not to answer!”

“Lobsters are cool!” Steve defends at your pouting. “I like lobsters! Everyone likes lobsters!”

You don’t want to laugh, still feeling a bit too sick, but he makes it dreadfully hard not to. A halfhearted giggle sputters from your lips at his high-pitched assurance before you can stop it.

He smiles at your smiling, wide palms squeezing gently at your knee. “Lobsters actually mate for life,” he singsongs with raised brows and a crooked grin. “Betcha didn’t know that…”

“I think that was disproven, actually,” you squint.

“No, it’s true! Wanna know how I know?”

He’s fishing for a reply. You know it, but you bite anyway. You humor him with a nod, the corners of your lips lifting in an anticipatory smile.

He steps closer to you. His hips press into the edge of the countertop as his palms smooth up your thighs and settle on your waist. His honey eyes sparkle at you when he tilts his head and peers at you from beneath his lashes. 

“’Cause you’re my lobster,” he confesses with a scrunched nose. “And you’re also my soulmate— and one plus one equals two, and blah blah blah…”

“I’m your lobster?” you humor in a high-pitched whisper, eyes twinkling with fatigue and adoration.

Steve beams, grinning at you like the lovesick idiot he is. “Yep. You’re my lobster. Take it or leave it, sweetheart.”

“I’d love to be your lobster, Stevie,” you tell him, giggling through your promise.

“We’ve said that word too many times, I think. It’s started to lose meaning now,” he says with his own breathy chuckle right before pressing his mouth to yours. He tastes like sunscreen, blue skies, and vanilla ice cream — like heaven and the rest of your life.

Steve kisses you breathless, telling you all the words he can’t say out loud with his pink lips slotted between yours. 

He hopes you know that was his dumb, roundabout way of promising forever with you. You kiss him like you do, anyway.

[freakingholland]

"Cold cloths, warm hugs" Jason Todd x gn!reader

A/N: My first ever Jason x reader fic whaaat! I have such a soft spot for this guy ugh <3 also this is so fluffy and silly, I'll see myself out!

Warnings: not proofread, swear words, Jason is feeling unwell so a mention of headaches? use of painkillers

Summary: You and Jay have a night off, what could possibly go wrong? (fluff, hurt/comfort-ish)

Word count: 850 +

If you enjoyed my work: Ko-fi.com/freakingholland

questions/requests/ideas here! - rules here

masterlist (needs a proper update)

-

You were in the middle of watching some kind of lighthearted show on your night off. Jason had a night off as well, the two of you had been sitting on a couch and simply enjoying each other’s presence. Jason had been reading a book curled up next to your tucked figure, as your back was leaning against the opposite arm of the couch. Unexpectedly his reading session got disturbed. At least you thought so since he had gotten up from the couch, tossed his reading glasses aside on the coffee table and went to the kitchen without a word. At least 5 minutes had passed, and he didn’t return.

“Hey- you alright in there?”

-

“-Yup, just a sec.”

He didn’t sound very convincing. His response seemed wavering, and it was enough to make you a bit wary. As you didn’t want to possibly annoy him with your raised voice, not knowing the problem yet, instead of shouting from the sofa, you went to check on him.

His head was hanging low as he was standing with his hands resting on the counter. There was an unscrewed bottle of painkillers and a now empty, wet glass. You went behind him and put your hand on the small of his back.

“What’s going on baby?” Your heart ached at the sight.

“--Headache.” He whispered through gritted teeth. His tone made you uptight.

“I- I- gotta lie down.”

“-can you get me a cold-- towel? Please…” He spoke quietly while turning to go to your bedroom. Your hand dropped to your side.

“Course. You’re nauseous?”

He slightly leaned on the doorframe before going further away from you. He shut his eyes as the light hit his face when leaving the kitchen.

“Yeah…”

He then faltered to rest up.

“Shit.” You cursed under your breath putting your head in your hand when he left.

You were hoping that you’d have a calm evening for once, you deserved to have it. It’s been a while since something bothered Jay to that degree, whether it was a patrol injury or sickness, and the fact that he was hurting on his day off made you genuinely irritated.

On the positive side – at least he didn’t try to hide the fact that he was feeling unwell. He also asked for some help without much frustration. It took months to get to this point, but encouraging Jay to open up and communicate more has been paying off. Grief-stricken conversations still happen every so often. Hell, it would be beyond belief if they weren’t happening considering the extent of past trauma that Jason has suffered through.

But his mental health really did improve over the months of you two dating.

You put on the kettle to make him a nice warm cup of tea. With the help of a stool, you managed to find his old but beloved wonder woman mug. It took some digging in your cabinet that really needed a proper cleanup. When the tea had been made you moved on to rummage through your closet to find a cloth for a cold compress. Placing three cubes of ice in between the layers was enough to make the cloth cold.

“Babe did you drink cof—“ you stopped halfway through your whispered question when you were walking into your shared bedroom.

You suddenly stopped in your tracks realizing your possible mistake. Jay was already dosing off, curled under a blanket. His lips were slightly parted. There was a noticeable change in his posture, there was less tension within his upper body, his arms seemed more relaxed than before. You didn’t think he would be falling asleep this fast, but you figured the headache must have been bad and that the painkillers actually started to kick in.

 The sight made you sigh as you you’ve been unnoticeably holding in your breath. You tiptoed to his bed side table and put down his mug of steaming tea. You then carefully kneeled down next to the bed in order to place a compress on his forehead without startling him too much. You gently pressed it onto his skin, making sure to place it slightly over his eyelids.

“That feels so nice.” He muttered.

“Shhh ignore me and go to sleep.”

“I don’t wanna ignore you--, come here.”

You stood up and walked around the bed. Before joining Jay, you opened the window to let some fresh air into the room.

“Baby please…”

“’Kay ‘kay I’m coming.”

You carefully crawled under his blanket and big spooned him.

“You know what? I can already feel the headache going away just cause you’re hugging me.” He continued verbilising his loopy thoughts.

“Oh yeah? It must be some kind of magic.”

“Yeah, it’s Y/N’s magic.”

“Just don’t tell on me. Peeps might burn me at the stake.”

“Fuuuuuuck no I wouldn’t let them.”

“Oh, I know you wouldn’t big guy. ” you said running your hand through his hair.  

Jay rolled to his side to embrace you in a hug. He nuzzled his face into your chest and sighed with relief.

“JACE that’s cold! Stop it!” you winced and laughed as the compress touched your warm skin.

“It wouldn’t feel so cold if you weren’t so hot.”

“I think we gotta check your temperature…”

-

Stay whelmed xx Tori

[myfictionaldreams]

Hey, can you do something with where the reader is pregnant in mafia stucky and Bucky and Steve are super protective about her?

Xoxo

Our Little Bean // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

A/N: Thank you for your request, this has been requested quite a few times by many people so I hope you do enjoy!

Important note for readers: I'm currently working within maternity services within the UK so the pregnancy side of this is all based on a UK perspective but it's set in the US so apologies if anything is different over there. Also, the signs and symptoms are based on my bestie's pregnancy so thank you for letting me use these!

ALSO: I'm sorry if I don't do any more pregnancy/baby fics, I wanted to just do this one and return to the normal trio we had before.

Tags: 18+ readers only, unplanned pregnancy, fluff (LOTS!), comfort, soft steve/bucky, protectiveness, pregnancy kink, pet names, pregnancy symptoms discussed in detail, crying, family/domestic fluff, tooth-rotting goodness!

Words: 6.9k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Your nausea never seemed to settle, barely being able to keep down dry toast or sips of water and then there was the immense exhaustion, finding yourself to be lucky if you were awake for an hour before falling asleep again. This, paired with the dizzy spells and dull aches in your temples, it was safe to say that you were done with feeling unwell and you definitely blamed Sam Wilson for this. He’d turned up to work last week feeling unwell, slightly different symptoms to yours as he had a head cold but ill nonetheless and now, here you were, collapsed onto the couch in the living room, under a mount of blankets.

It wasn’t all bad however as Bucky had stayed home to look after you and he was doing a good job of it too, but he and Steve were always extra attentive when you were unwell and had been taking it in turns to stay home, with Steve having stayed with you yesterday.

Bucky today had helped you wash, changed into fresh pyjamas and then carried downstairs, tucking you into your little fort before sitting on the floor and reading the book you were halfway through reading. You were too tired to read and didn’t want to keep your eyes open so Bucky offered, which was hilarious to hear him trying to read along and then asking questions as to the type of books you’ve been reading.

“So who is this Rhysand guy? Just some hotshot king or something?” he asked, lowering the book to look at your resting face. You smiled tiredly at his question, opening one eye to look into his confused expression, he was already invested in your book, even though he had started more than halfway through.

“Something like that”, you replied, voice croaking from needing water which he was quick to notice, lifting the glass with the straw to your mouth and you hummed your thanks, taking a sip and closing your eye once more.

You fell back to sleep again and woke to be carried, noticing that it was dark outside with another day passing as Steve carried you up the stairs, having returned home from work. Your arms were trapped into the blanket cocooned you were being carried in so you nuzzled your face into his neck to let him know you were awake.

Steve tilted his head, kissing the top of yours as he placed you into the centre of your shared bed, “think you’re up for eating some chicken noodle soup?”

“Did you make it?”, your voice was full of hope as you blinked open your eyes to look up at him but made no attempt to move just yet.

“Of course, only the best for you”. Steve left to retrieve your soup, giving you time for another quick snooze, before he was back and shaking your shoulders. With his help, you untangled yourself from the soft blankets and attempted to sit up but were hit with a wave of dizziness, having to stop and close your eyes to get your bearings straight before it subsided and you could sit up properly. Steve was looking at you with a knowing glance as he sat on the edge of the bed, a warm noodle soup bowl in his lap that he began to spoon-feed you - something he insisted on. “You know I’m going to call the doctor, right?”

You release a frustrated huff, you didn’t need the doctor, “It’s fine though, it’ll pass. Sam said it took him 4 days before he started to feel better and I’m only on day 3”.

“Baby, you’re on day 4 and you said this all yesterday and it’s only getting worse”, he stated everything matter-of-factly but you were still shocked that you’d somehow missed an entire day. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to see a doctor and there was no use arguing with Steve when it came to your health.

So after you’d finished half a bowl of the soup before feeling queasy, Steve excused himself to call his doctor who just so happened to be a close family friend. Of course, you had fallen asleep before the Doctor arrived and being rudely awakened made you feel even more groggy and unwell as Steve whispered, “Sorry honey, but Doctor Banner’s here to check you over”.

Steve excused himself so the Doctor could check you over properly without feeling pressured by the mafia boss in the room. Doctor Banner put you at ease though with his warming personality and you’d met him on a few occasions anyway when Steve or Bucky were more injured through an event with work, but you’d never had him look after you before.

The two of you ran through the general list, ‘When did you start feeling like this?’, ‘What are your symptoms?’, before he began doing your vital signs, temperature and blood pressure, all just normal procedures.

“Could you be pregnant?” he casually asked as he velcroed the blood pressure cuff from your arm.

Frowning you answered, “Um no…no, I’m on birth control, so I shouldn’t be”.

“Do you mind if we do a quick test just to tick it off of the list? All you need to do is pee in this cup and I’ll dip a test strip into it”.

You wobbled to the toilet on unsteady feet, realising this is probably the first time you’d properly walked in days because the boys insisted on carrying you everywhere. As you used the toilet, you didn’t think anything of the test, leaving the cup on the side for the doctor and returning back to bed, wondering if he’s going to give you some antibiotics or just see how you get on over the next few days.

After a few minutes, your eyes were closed but you could hear the Doctor returning so you asked, “So, do you think it’s just the flu like I said-”

“It’s not the flu, your test was positive”.

Your eyes snap open to look at him, sitting up and feeling dizzy but ignoring it, “what? What do you mean it’s positive?”

Doctor Bruce held up the little white strip that had two purple lines on it. You looked between the test and his face as he calmly smiled, “You’re pregnant”.

“What if the test is wrong? Can we do it again?” Thankfully he didn’t fight you on this and gave you the packet of tests, you grabbed two and stumbled back to the bathroom. Both strips gave the exact result and now it felt like your heart was coming out of your mouth it was pounding so hard and loudly in your ears.

“Take a deep breath for me”, Doctor Banner calmly instructed as he placed a steady hand on your back in case you needed extra support. You took a few deep breaths, not even realising that you had been holding your breath. Gripping onto the bathroom side, you began to feel dizzy again so he helped you back to bed waiting until you were settled before continuing.

“This explains your symptoms, I’d say you were in your early stages of pregnancy so we’ll book an appointment with the midwife tomorrow and sort out things like a scan. You may feel that your symptoms get worse over the next few weeks and if they do, you can always call me back but otherwise, stay rested and take it easy”.

You were only half listening. Midwife? Scans? Symptoms getting worse? There was so much for your brain to process. There was an actual baby inside of your body right now, a part of you and… who? Your anxiety was increasing with each second as you tried to let the words sink in as the Doctor packed his stuff away. Did you want to have a baby right now? You had always wanted kids but were you even ready at this stage of your life but then again… was anyone ready for a baby when they were accidentally knocked up?

Then the knocked-up by who question echoed through your thoughts. You obviously didn’t know if the baby was Steve's or Bucky’s, so would they be upset about this? If it was planned at least there could be some way you could arrange who to have sex with to know for sure but now… you were all in the dark about the paternity. You didn’t care if it was Steve or Bucky, you were always a trio in every sense of the word but now that this was your reality, would they be pissed off? And were they even ready for kids? The business took so much of their time and was still very dangerous but this was bound to happen eventually as you all wanted children.

Bucky and Steve had always been very open that they wanted kids, especially Bucky with his affection name for you being ‘mama’, he often would talk about his fantasy of seeing you barefoot and pregnant with his kid. So, at least you knew they were on the same page about wanting to have children but now it was the stress of is now the right time and who was the father of the baby?

You were vaguely aware of the Doctor bidding his farewells, “I’ll speak to you tomorrow and I’ll let you tell your partners the good news”. You offered a half-assed wave to him as he left, before staring at your hands in your lap, completely petrified for the next few minutes.

Steve and Bucky wandered in a few beats later, sitting on either side of you on the bed but you couldn’t look them in the eye, trying desperately to hold it together.

“Everything ok, Doll? The Doc didn’t tell us what was wrong, just said you would explain”, Bucky asked, stroking a finger down your arm to try and soothe you but it was enough to make you break.

You burst into tears, hiding your face in your hands.

“Honey? What is it? Talk to us”, Steve encouraged, attempting to pull your hands away from  your face but you held them there tightly so instead, he pulled your body into his lap, your legs over his thighs so that you could hide your face into his chest, the sobs building in intensity and everything was just so overwhelming. You were excited, scared, relieved but nervous, it was a lot to handle.

Steve and Bucky encouraged you to talk to them both, becoming more unsettled with your increasing hysterics. It took a few minutes to calm down, and it helped as Bucky held both your hands, rubbing circles into your skin and Steve wrapped his arms around your shoulders, holding you close to his body. You decided it was better to just tell them than keep it to yourself any longer.

With your face still pressed into Steve’s face, you whispered “I’m pregnant”, however, it was so muffled and quiet that neither man heard you.

“What was that sweetheart?”, Steve asked, trying to pull you away enough that both men could see your tear-stained face.

The words sounded strange coming from your mouth as you kept your head hanging lowly, mumbling, “I’m pregnant”.

You knew that they had heard this time by the way both completely froze, not even breathing as they processed the news. Bucky finally whispered, “What?”

You still couldn’t look at him, scared you’d see disappointment or anger in his eyes.

“Are you sure?” Steve asked in such a faint voice you were shocked it was even from him.

Nodding your head at his question you explained, “We checked a couple of times, he thinks I’m still in my early pregnancy but-ah!”

You jumped as Bucky all but tackled you and Steve, his lips kissing every part of your face that he could reach and when he pulled back enough to cup your cheeks, you took in the glowing grin on his face, his eyes twinkling with love as he shouted, “you’re pregnant! We’re having a baby!”

Steve then seemed to snap out of his initial shock and his arms tightened and lifted your body further up so he could kiss your face just as happily as Bucky before nuzzling into your neck, breathing you in, “I love you so much sweetheart, I can’t believe it! Wait, why were you crying, are you not excited?”

He relaxed his hold on you so that they could both see you properly and you had room to look at them both. “I... I am excited! I just wasn’t sure how you would both react as I don’t know which of you is the dad-”

Bucky leans across and kisses your lips quickly cutting off your sentence, the grin still broad across his face, “I don’t fucking care, if the baby has my genes or Steve’s, we’re all in this together, remember? That’s what we’ve agreed on”.

“So you aren’t upset?” you wanted to clarify.

“Fuck no hot mama… and you’re actually going to be a mama! This little bean is ours, all of ours!”

You were crying again with relief, “you really mean that?”

His eyes softened, kissing the corner of your mouth, “Of course I do”.

“We both mean it, I… I can’t believe it, I’ve always wanted to be a Dad”, Steve admitted, kissing your temple and as you looked up, you could see his eyes glistening with unshed tears which only made you smile and cry harder.

Steve made the move first, lowering his hand over your abdomen, resting over your stomach where there was no bump yet but knowing there was something growing inside you, he couldn’t help the relieved gasp. Bucky was quick to cover his hand and yours on the top so the three of you were feeling where the baby would be. “I can’t believe we’re going to be parents!”

The next few days were a whirlwind of excitement and unimaginable joy whilst also still feeling relatively unwell, especially feeling more exhausted as you wanted to buy every pregnancy book and read them all but soon fell asleep with it open in your lap.

Then there was Steve and Bucky who could not contain their excitement, going above and beyond for you, especially with you still feeling ill. They would cook and feed you, if you were too tired, refill your glasses of water, constantly ask if you were comfortable and more than happy to fetch another pillow if needed. Not only this, but their levels of affection had increased massively, whispering their love for you at any opportunity, holding your hands, and lots of kisses, it was so nice to feel this level of love when going through such a life-changing experience.

Both of them had been just as motivated to read about pregnancy, birth, babies, and the whole lot from A to Z, they researched everything that was possible and then gave you the rundown on what your bodily changes would be including what you couldn’t eat, vowing to not eat the same items until you could which you didn’t seem necessary but appreciated the gesture.

Then there was the excitement of going to the Midwife’s appointment and it all became so much more real again, especially being able to book the ultrasound scan. This was where you found out that you were 8 weeks and 3 days and the entire world seemed to pause around the three of you as you watched your baby's tiny heartbeat on the screen.

To say you all cried was an understatement, all of you not taking your eyes off of the scan picture that was provided, the little bean was so tiny, only just being able to tell the outline of its arms and legs. Now it felt official. You, Steve and Bucky were going to have a baby.

Many things changed including protection that increased tenfold. Security around your home doubled and you had not only Sam Wilson as your bodyguard but also Natasha. Not only this but if you attending the business or in public, Steve and Bucky would crowd around you, almost like a human shield, their overprotective instincts on overdrive, even from people who were just at the check-outs in stores. Sam and Natasha were confused by the sudden dynamic intensity and it was hard to keep it all a secret but you had all decided to wait just a little while longer and continue with your unknown illness excuse just until the baby had grown a little bit bigger.

This was something else that you had to get used to with adjusting to the many bodily changes you were going through to adapt to growing this baby. A few days following the scan, you’d come downstairs to Steve cooking you scrambled eggs which were your usual favourite breakfast but as soon as you smelt those cooking eggs, you were gagging and rushing to the toilet, throwing up violently.

Your eyes were watering as you finally stopped emptying your stomach but still gagging as you could smell the lingering eggs in the air. A warm hand rubbed circles over your back, Steve’s apologetic voice came from behind you, “Sorry, baby. No more eggs”.

This was the first instance of vomiting and it wasn’t just eggs, as every single day you would be throwing up and then feeling extremely tired afterwards that you weren’t able to do much throughout the day but be with your head in the toilet or lying in bed. The boys were almost glued to your side during this time, worried that you weren’t keeping enough food or drinks down and even had to call Doctor Banner back just to check you weren’t too dehydrated.

Thankfully you hadn’t needed to go into hospital as your vomiting subsided but the nausea remained for a while.

“You sure she’s ok? She’s looking a little peaky,” Sam commented to Steve one day as he came to help guard the house and was having his lunch with you all but he took one look at you and knew something wasn’t right, even as you forced the sandwich into your mouth, making sure to still eat for you and baby… not that Sam knew about the baby.

“Yeah, she’s fine Sam, thanks for checking though and we appreciate the extra hours you’re doing”, Steve responded with a thankful grip on his friend's shoulder.

“It’s no problem man, just worried for her that’s all, don’t really understand what’s going on with you all, especially with the extra security and whatnot and I feel like I’ve hardly spoken to her for a few weeks now. Just want you to know I’m always here if you ever need anything”.

You felt guilty when Steve later told you what Sam had said, feeling bad that you were keeping it secret but it was only for a few more weeks.

Luckily, you had found the special trick to help your nausea as suggested by a friend: lavender! After sitting with a bag of dried lavender for a couple of hours and not feeling nauseous, Steve and Bucky were quick to fill the entire house with lavender-scented items including candles and sprays, even having some in the car and it helped to settle your nausea massively.

But, as soon as one symptom passed, another would be replacing the uncomfortable feeling. The next was your breasts becoming incredibly painful and sore, even if you accidentally knocked them when putting on a bra or rolling over in your sleep, it was agony. Your boyfriends were even more careful with you during this phase, getting ice to hold against them during particularly painful moments and being careful to give you enough room when asleep.

A couple of weeks later was the first day you noticed the little bean kicking, at first it felt like maybe gas, almost like there were butterflies fluttering in your tummy but then you finally realised what it was. The feeling grew stronger with each day as well as the size of your growing stomach which was something Steve and Bucky were going absolutely feral for. They would take pictures each week to show your progression and would constantly be placing their hands on your stomach, even if the bump wasn’t that noticeable just yet.

The midwife recommended talking to the baby at one point so every night, you would sit with a shirt off and Steve and Bucky would lie on either side of you, taking it in turns to tell stories, sing their favourite songs and lay sweet kisses along the growing bump. One day, Bucky was telling the little bean about the time he and Steve snuck into a movie theatre when the skin under his cheek poked out as the baby kicked him in the face. Bucky sat up with excitement, it being the first time he had properly felt the baby move as he cooed, “there's our strong baby, good job little bean!”

“You hit the right dad as well”, Steve joked causing Bucky to smack him in the shoulder.

“Don’t listen to Dad, listen to Pops, I’m right here to make everything’s ok”, Bucky continued to speak sweetly to your stomach.

Your heart swelled at the difference in names that he had seemed to pick, “is that what you’d like to be called?” you asked them both, stroking a finger across each of their cheeks, feeling the stubble beneath.

“It’s perfect”, Steve beamed, kissing your stomach again.

Now it was your 20-week scan, Baby was so much bigger, you couldn’t believe the difference those weeks had made since the last scan. Now it was really starting to look like a baby with longer limbs and you were even able to find out the gender, however, you had wanted to wait to find out, liking the thought of it being announced at the birth.

With these beautiful new prints of the scans, you finally wanted to tell people, beginning with your closest friends.

It was a casual lunchtime meal at the office. You sat at the large table in between Steve and Bucky, with Sam and Natasha sitting opposite, all idly talking and eating the take-out that Steve had bought. However you had opted for a different meal: 4 packs of salt and vinegar chips and a tub of tomatoes - both were your latest cravings.

Sam eyed your food wearily, “Interesting mix you’ve got there, boss lady?”

Your only response was smiling with your cheeks full of tomatoes as Bucky placed his hand over your thigh. You knew he wanted to put his hand on your stomach but you hadn’t told either of the people across the table just yet and even though your bump was starting to become noticeable now, you were trying to hide it behind baggy shirts but even that was becoming difficult. You were in desperate need of some new trousers as well as the button was digging into your skin as you shifted uncomfortably, looking at each of your boys, feeling antsy with excitement as well.

“Can we tell them? I really need to take off my trousers, I’m feeling really claustrophobic”.

Sam frowned at your random sentence, confused by what you meant however it was Natasha’s reaction that sparked your interest as she smirked, leaning back in her chair with a tilt of the head. You looked at her with a gaped-open mouth, pointing your finger at her, “You already know! Who told her?” you asked, looking between Bucky and Steve.

“Wasn’t me”, they both responded at the same time, holding up their hands as you eyed them both suspiciously.

Natasha leaned forward in her chair, “did you really think that I wouldn’t notice? I’m offended Sugar, it’s in my job description to be observant. In fact, you should be asking if Sam is right to keep this job if he can’t notice something this obvious”, she teased the man sitting next to her who still looked just as confused as before.

You laugh at Sam’s reaction, looking to Steve who handed you the sealed cards. You happily took them, standing from your chair and feeling Bucky’s hand on your lower back to help and then walked around the table, giving them both a card each. It wasn’t anything special or elaborate, but it had a picture of the latest scan with the statement: “Update to your job title; bodyguard & uncle/auntie”.

You’d never heard the high-pitched tone from Sam ever before as he quickly stood, his chair squeaking across the floor as he shouted, “What?!” He turned to you, looking between you, the picture and Steve and Bucky, “Really?!”

You pulled the back of your shirt so the material was tight to your front, showing off your growing bump, grinning as he shouted “Congratulations!”, before pulling you into a huge hug, careful of your belly but rocking the two of you on the spot a few times and kissing your temple, “I can’t believe I’m going to be an uncle again!”

Sam was then pushed aside, giving room for Natasha, “Move it, Wilson, I want to meet my niece or nephew”, Sam didn’t mind being moved as he rushed around to embrace Steve and Bucky.

Natasha hugged you tightly, and you were able to ask, “How long have you known?”

“A couple of weeks, you aren’t as subtle as you think at hiding things. I mean, you’ve hardly been awake enough to have a conversation, this is the most lively I’ve seen you in nearly a month. And that's without the new obsessive protecting from Steve and Bucky, how they’re always touching you and the weird food you’re eating, it’s more noticeable than you think it is”. She pulls back to put her hands on your growing bump, “how many weeks are you?”

“20 weeks and 5 days, I can feel the little bean moving more with each day, I feel so big already and I’m not even showing that much considering I’m only halfway through my pregnancy”. Natasha grinned hearing this, looking at your little bump. “Now you both know, I can take off my pants without being judged”, you groaned as you undid your jeans button, utter relief when they were completely removed from your body and felt free, your shirt was long enough that it stopped mid-thigh so you weren’t too unmodest.

Bucky had snuck behind you, his arms wrapping around to rest on your stomach as he kissed your cheek. Natasha smiled watching the embrace as she remarked, “Guess you got what you wanted all along Barnes, now you can call her mama and she actually is one”.

“Mmm absolutely”, Bucky nuzzled into your neck, the sensation making you laugh as it tickled, turning to shy away from his attack but he only held you tighter until you melted into his arms.

Steve and Sam joined your little gathering and Sam jokingly asked, “So if the baby’s a boy, can we name him Sam?”

You were so thankful for the news being out, especially as this meant that you could go baby clothes shopping with Sam and Natasha, finding little outfits that you could surprise your boyfriends with. It was one of the only things you were able to do for them to show your appreciation as they did so much for you throughout your pregnancy.

Your cravings continued to become stronger with each day and often found yourself waking in the middle of the night to find something to quench the craving for something acidic and sour taste you needed so desperately it felt like your world was going to end if you didn’t eat it right then and there. On multiple occasions, Steve or Bucky would come downstairs in the early hours of the morning to find you sitting on the kitchen floor, your belly round and exposed, hating feeling material against your skin, and a scattering of different foods surrounding you, a happy smile on your face.

“You ok down there beautiful?” they would ask with grins that matched yours and with your heightened emotions you would be crying before long, reaching for them to come and sit with you which they would do eagerly, pulling your body in between there legs and kissing away your tears, “don’t cry pretty girl, I’ve got you”.

If you ever run out of your favourite cravings, they would drive to the store and you were buzzing to go along for the ride in the middle of the night, fully awake and ready for the night time adventure only to fall asleep before getting to the store.

Entering into the third trimester, your belly was round and heavy, things for sure were becoming more difficult for you as the little bean grew. There were small excitements still like attending antenatal classes with your boyfriends who were taking their role as dad and pops  very seriously, you’d never seen them concentrate so hard before.

“You’re doing the boss face again”, you whispered to Steve as he correctly wrapped the baby doll in a blanket. Steve's features softened immediately as he sheepishly looked at you from the corner of his eye.

“I’m just trying to concentrate”, he mumbled, eyes returning to looking at the doll, his fingers trembling slightly as he continued wrapping steadily.

Reaching across you grabbed his hands, keeping your voice low to keep the conversation between the two of you, “I’m scared too, but you’re going to be a great dad, Steve, you’ll be ok”.

This was a little pep talk you needed to have with both Bucky and Steve on numerous occasions as they began panicking that this was actually happening and whilst you reminded them there was nothing they could do to take back the growing baby in your belly, it was ok to have nerves, but everything would come to them with time, they needed to stay strong, especially as you were also sort of beginning to lose it.

Your body was really changing to accommodate the growing little bean. Your hands and feet were swollen until your shoes couldn’t fit anymore and god…the heartburn was excruciating, and nearly as painful as the kicks to the ribs. There was never a moment where you weren’t out of breath, even standing to pour cereal into a bowl took all of your energy and you’d be sighing in relief as you sat down. Your hips hurt, your back was in agony, and the pregnancy fun had well and truly finished.

This was where the boys really shined through as they would massage your hands and feet, they would be more then happy to cook or grab anything for you, picking things off of the ground, finding clothes that might fit and then there were their compliments which was one thing keeping you going.

Steve and Bucky could not get enough of seeing you pregnant, “you’re glowing honey, pregnancy suits you so much, my love”. You never felt like you were glowing and would describe yourself instead as a huge, hungry, tired monster but the way the boys looked at you, put those negative thoughts to the back of your mind.

From the moment you woke up to the second sleep would invade your consciousness, they would remind you of their love, needing you to fully comprehend how much they appreciated you growing their baby, you were doing so much for them, putting your body through it, for all of you, for the little bean.

Their words definitely helped when you began to feel needier in more than one way as your hormones caused your arousal to be one-minute non-existence and the next feeling nearly overwhelmed with how badly you needed to touch them and be touched. Thankfully with how obsessed they were with you during your pregnancy, they were more than happy to deliver. Hands would be all over, their lips leaving words of affirmation against your warm skin, being careful not to be to rough and more than happy if you wanted to take control and do whatever you wanted to them.

You had to be honest and say you never felt more loved up before. Even with the gang still in full operation, they were able to look after you as their number one priority, even through your emotional breakdowns, or weird pregnancy habits that had you thinking you were slightly insane but they never judged once.

For example, towards the end of your pregnancy, you had a completely immense craving to chew on your bath sponge every time you sat in the large bathtub. So when one day Steve walked in with a freshly warmed-up towel and caught you mid-chew with staring eyes, you expected his reaction to being anything but a soft smile, “You having fun in there, baby?”

Pulling the sponge out of your mouth slowly you nervously answered, “I uh… I don’t really know how to explain…”

Steve held up a hand, “You don’t have to explain anything, whatever makes you happy and I think I’ve read in a book that sometimes pregnant women can have cravings like this, whatever makes you happy”.

As your due date closened, you sat in the centre of the large bed, watching Bucky shuffle his way through your clothes, trying to find the right things to pack for your hospital bag. “What about this?” he asked, holding up a pair of your normal jeans.

“They haven’t fit me in four months, Bucky”, you laughed, shaking your head. “I need pyjamas or baggy shirts, things that can be easily taken on and off, maybe you should just leave Steve to do it”, you suggested whilst holding out your arms.

Bucky shrugged, dropping the jeans and jumping onto the bed, making you squeal with the bed moving up and down before he had his hands against your bump, kissing the tip of your nose. “Not long until we meet you little bean”, he was rewarded with a kick against his metal palm that had you wincing. “Hello baby, I love feeling you kick so much but be gentle to Mama she’s doing such a good job with keeping you safe”, he leaned down to kiss your belly as your fingers delved into his hair.

“It’s ready!”, Steve shouted from another room, catching both of your attention. Bucky jumped up first and then helped you to stand, keeping his hand on your lower back as you wobbled to the spare room that Steve and Bucky had been decorating as the nursery. It was something you had left them in charge of organising, not having the energy over the last nine months to even think about decorating and Steve and Bucky were more than excited to take on the job and so far had kept it secret from your prying eyes.

As you looked around the room, tears swelled in your eyes instantly, reaching to hold onto Steve and Bucky, praising, “It’s perfect!”. There was a beautiful baby cot, pictures of the three of you surrounding the ultrasound scan photograph on the wall, a painting you knew Steve had done, and a rocking chair in the corner that Bucky had claimed as his for the night feeds he’d volunteered himself for.

Now it was all just a waiting game.

“You’re doing it again”, Bucky commented from where he stood in the entryway to your home having returned from the office a few days later.

“No, I’m not, I’m just cleaning-”.

“Nesting… You’re nesting, Doll”, Bucky reminded you, taking away the cloth from your hands and throwing it to the side so he could hold your shoulders and kiss your temple. “Go and rest, you’ve only got a few days left!”

You roll your eyes as you leaned into his warmth, your bump touching him first as you hugged around his chest, “Bucky most babies aren’t born on their due dates you know, I just want to make sure everything is perfect around the house and ready”.

“Everything IS perfect, please just rest”. You relented to him, feeling tired already from the ten minutes of standing, moving to sit on the couch when a period cramp suddenly began in your lower abdomen, causing you to scrunch your face up in pain, especially as it was followed by a large kick to the ribs.

“Woah, are you ok?” Bucky asked, his hand cupping your cheek.

“Yeah, probably Braxton hicks or something, it’s fine”, you say, finally sitting down and putting your feet on the small table. Bucky didn’t seem convinced and continued to be a mother hen throughout the rest of the night, even though the pains subsided after you had a nice warm bath.

As your due date came and went, you were becoming restless, needing the baby out, feeling overwhelmed with how big you felt, wanting to meet the baby and hating waiting around. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried everything either. Eating spicy foods, and going for walks, especially up and down the stairs which was incredibly uncomfortable with how low the little bean’s head was sitting in your pelvis. You’d even had sex a few times, Bucky was more than happy to hear that nipple stimulation could induce labour but still, nothing happened.

Those period cramps would come and go throughout these days as well, getting your hopes up before they disappeared and still, no signs that your labour was even happening. 

On the fourth day following your due date, you awoke suddenly in the middle of the night to another period cramp that started in your lower back and spread around to your front. Even though this felt different,  you didn’t want to wake the boys and get theirs or your hopes up as you tried to slide out of bed without waking them to use the bathroom for what felt like the tenth time that night.

“You ok, baby?” Steve asked, his eyes still closed but his hand reached for you in the darkness.

“Yeah I’m, ok, go back to sleep Steve”, you encouraged, touching the back of his hand before pushing yourself up and waddling to the toilet, using it and then realising just how wide awake you were and the dull ache of the pains still lingered so you decided to run a warm bath. During the time that it was filling up, you had another pain which took longer to subside but this was always how it started with the intensity increasing but after the bath, it usually stopped. 

However, even as you let the warm water settle over your body, easing your muscles but the pains continued but at least the little bean was lovely and happy as he or she gave you a powerful kick to your ribs. The next pain had you gritting your teeth, eyes clenching closed as you held onto the side of the tub, waiting for it to pass but this pain lasted for nearly a full minute, and you decided maybe it was time to take some pain relief.

Standing and awkwardly climbing out of the bath, you dried your body and picked up your night dress to pull over your head when another pain came and took your breath away, your stomach hardening and causing you to moan lowly, bending over to blow the pain away.

“Honey?” Steve shouted from the bathroom having heard your moan as he waited for you to come back to bed. You couldn’t answer him as the pain consumed you, and he was rushing to be by your side, Bucky following closely behind him. Steve rubbed your back slowly as your pain finally began to ease so that you could look up at them both.

“Wow, that one was strong”.

“You ok? Can we get you anything?” Bucky asked, stepping forward with worry etched on his face.

“I’m ok.... I think… I don’t want to get my hopes up that this isn’t contractions but fuck, it hurt like hell”, you muttered, bending over to pick up your dress from the floor and then a trickle of clear liquid dripped down the inside of your leg. All three of you noticed as you tentatively looked up, “Is it bad that I can’t tell if I’ve just wet myself or if that’s my waters…”.

Neither of your worried boyfriends had time to answer as another painful wave came and had you doubling over, leaning your head against the sink. Steve was quick to grab you and let you lean against his strong body, remembering what he had learned from the antenatal appointments to help you through the pains, “That’s it baby, breath in and out, nice and slow”. It helped to listen and ground yourself through the pain as Bucky’s cold metal hand rubbed against your lower back, helping to ease the intense pressure from the baby.

The pain lasted for the same amount of time as the previous one and the clear liquid, which was definitely not urine, had gushed out more, forming a small puddle onto the floor. “Ok, I think it’s time we call someone”, you decided.

Bucky kissed the back of your head as he ran to get the phone and Steve helped you to pull your shirt on, his thumb brushing your chin as he sensed your anxieties, “You’re going to do amazing my love, we’ll be with you every step of the way”.

[imomnba-x07]

EPISODES CAME OUT EARLY YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS

HERES MY THOUGHTS

SPOILERS OBVIOUSLY

EP 1

- GROVER YOU SWEET CUTIE

- also love that they changed up the office scene to give Percy more of a reason to be mad at Grover

- fight with Ms Dodds was a bit rushed but I think that was intentional for us to feel that same “wtf is happening” feeling Percy feels

- Sally enjoying the Rain, feeling it, feeling connected, was awesome. Such a great visual representation of her connection to Poseidon and the water

- “God? Like Jesus” CRYING ON THE FLOOR THAT WAS HILARIOUS

- “I’m actually 24” Grover. You. Adorable. Nervous. Scamp. Your killing me here 😭😭😭

- ANNABETHS LINE YEEEAAHHHHHH

- THE VISUALS ARE GEORGEUSSSSSSS

EPIODE 2

- ANNABETH SILHOUETTE OVER PERCYS BED RAHHHH

- DIONYSUS CLAIMING TO BE PERCYS DAD IS THE FUNNIEST THING IVE EVER SEEN ARE YOU KIDDING. ONLY EPISODE 2 AND THERES NO WAY THEY CAN TOP THAT SCENES COMEDY THE BAR HAS BEEN SET

- Percy burning the blue candy in hopes of being able to reach his mom and talk to her I am a puddle on the floor I’m deceased I am unwell

- the element of Glory was a genius factor for them to add and it’s makes the characters choices hold so much more value. Everyone has a clear motive at camp now because of Glory and it’s just- MY GOD it’s such a good addition to drive characters actions.

- love that they made Luke and Annabeths relationship a clear sibling dynamic, much better then Annabeths crush in the books

- CLARISSE YOU DID WONDERFULLY AND CAN DO NO WRONG IN MY EYES IM SUCH A STAN

- ANNABETH READING PERCY LIKE A BOOK AND BEING SO SOCIALLY AWKWARD AND ALSO LOOKING AT HIM LIKE 🤨 PLEEEASSSEEEEE THAT WAS SO GOOD

- ANNABETH CALLING PERCY SUNSHINE???? ARE YOU KIDDING ME THAT WAS SO- OH MY GOD

- love that you can visibly see the adrenaline take over whenever Percy fights. His face shows you he doesn’t fully understand how he’s doing this but his body’s natural instincts kick in and it’s just 🤌🏽✨

- ANNABETH PUSHING PERCY INTO THE WATER BECAUSE SHE NEW HE WAS THE ONE TRULY 6 STEPS AHEAD OF EVERYONE

1000000/10 INCREDIBLE PHENOMENAL SHOW-STOPPING AMZING NEVER THE SAME COMPLETELY UNIQUE

[buckysmith]

You’re pregnant with his baby + birth

Warnings: mention of infertility, weapons, childbirth

Includes: Ghost (Simon Riley); Soap ( John MacTavish); Alejandro Vargas

Ghost:

- You would feel really unwell, always tired, hungry or sitting in front of a toilet and puke your heart out.

- Than it would hit you like a truck. You’re pregnant.

- Of course you would take a pregnancy test an yep, you’re very much pregnant.

- while he’s working he only calls once in a week, only a few seconds calls so nobody would track you positions or his.

- You would wait for Simon to come home before telling him the news, you don’t want to distract your husband

- He keeps you somewhere safe, somewhere where he knows nobody would ever find you so the moment he’s back with you, you would tell him the news.

- He’s shocked

- completely shocked.

- He never thought he would ever get the chance on being a father because of his job.

- He would kneel down, placing his hands on your tummy and would gently lay his forehead against it

- He wouldn’t say anything in those minutes, but his actions are clear as glass.

- Honestly he would start to sob

- He would sob against your tummy how much he loves you, how much he loves his child, how he could deserve all that

- He did spoil you rotten before you got pregnant but believe me, after he knows you’re caring his child everything he’s done before is nothing

- He would try to be with you more often especially when the time comes you come near your due date

- a lot of belly, feet, back rubs

- He knows how difficult it is to carry a baby (he read a lot of books) and he wants you to be as comfortable as you could possibly be in a time like that

- He talks a lot to your belly and he loves to touch it too

- You don’t know but this man is already planning to get you pregnant again

- He loves to hug you from behind, placing his hands on your tummy and innocently kiss your neck while he murmur sweet nothings into your ear

- The day you give birth, this man his on the edge of fainting

- He loves you dearly and to see you in so much pain, hearing you scream while you almost brake his hand he definitely faints

- He has killed so many people, saw so much worse than a childbirth but it was just way too much for him to handle

- you definitely make fun of him after your baby girl/boy is born

- After birth he would hold you in his arms while you get your deserved rest, looking at the baby that lays on your chest.

- No matter the gender, this man is overprotective the moment he looks at your baby

Alejandro:

- You wouldn’t notice it at first

- You wouldn’t have any of the pregnancy symptoms, not even a single one

- It would be his mother that notice it

- She would ask you about when your last period was and you would tell her two months ago, nothing you would worry of because sometimes your period just decided to take one or a two month break

- She would buy you a pregnancy test while you’re telling her you can’t be pregnant cause you don’t have any symptoms

- Guess what? She’s right and u’re wrong

- She definitely loves you like you her own child so to know you’re pregnant, her momma bear mode is on

- She wouldn’t tell Alejandro nor any other of his family.

- It’s your and Alejandro’s child, he’s the first person who should know about his luck

- You know he always wanted children but also was scared to have them because he could die and wouldn’t be there for you and them

- You waited for him to come home, cooked a nice dinner and after you both made yourself comfortable on the couch cuddling with each other you would simply mumble in his ear something along the line of “vas a ser papi mi amor” (you're going to be a daddy my love)

- He would immediately push you a lil bit away just to get a better look at you. While he asks with hope and tears in his eyes if he's really going to be a father.

- You wouldn’t say anything and just nod because you would already be near to start crying

- The moment you nod he would start crying with joy, hugging you tight and kissing you with so much love I can’t even describe it

- A few days later he would have to go again, leaving you with his family

- His family treats you like a queen while he treats you like a goddess so you wouldn’t have to worry about anything but Alejandro’s safety.

- He would try to visit you more often but it’s dangerous so most of the time you both could only see each other on FaceTime

- He would be there the moment when you go into labor and would support you throughout the hours of pure pain.

- After the birth you would lay against his chest, sleeping and getting your deserved rest while he holds your baby.

- If your baby is a girl- believe me this man would treat her like a princess, he would do anything for her (but believe me, no matter the gender he sees everybody that even looks a bit at his little girl he sees as a threat and yeah- no dating for her till she’s 18)

- if the baby is a boy he would treat him like a prince too

- but no matter the gender, he would train his baby to be strong, independent and to know how to handle a cough gun cough

Soap:

- It would be him who notice your pregnancy

- It would be two days after he got home from a job

- It would irritate you a bit that he seemed a bit off but even though you asked him about it he would simply shrug with his shoulders, giving you a kiss on your lips and telling you everything is ok

- after those two days he would give you a pregnancy test, telling you do it

- at first you would laugh about it, thinking it’s a joke cause you’re infertile.

- Even though you would take the test and it would be positiv

- You would be to stunned to speak, sitting on the toilet staring at the test while he’s asking you if everything is good

- You wouldn’t respond and he would just barge into the restroom, fearing the worst

- but to see you with the positiv pregnancy test he would hug you straight away

- You both tried for years to get pregnant, but over eight months ago the doctor told you that you’re infertile

- The moment he hugs you, you both would start crying with joy

- You both have always wanted children and after you’re diagnosis that you’re infertile you feared he would leave you to start a family with someone who could bare his children

- But he stayed and assured you that he wanted a family with YOU and nobody else

- Man is worried about you constantly

- He would try to get the best doctors and best products to help you while you’re pregnant

- But he knows he can’t stay long so he would make sure that whenever he’s not with you someone he trust isn’t far away from you

- for the due date he would leave his work, taking a break so he would be there the moment you go into labour

- after a long and painful birth you would lay on his arm, your baby between him and you and he would tell you how amazing you are, how good you were and how beautiful your baby is

- this man praise the shit out of you till you eventually fall asleep

[blusocket]

I've seen some people express some confusion about what Fortnight is about, why it opens the album, what's happening in the video, etc, so here's my attempt at an analysis. For the most part I'll be referring to the characters in the video with the names of the people playing them (Taylor and Post) but at times I'm going to be making direct reference to the events of Taylor's personal life and referring to the muses by their names (Joe and Matty) for the sake of clarity and simplicity.

The song itself uses the suburbia conceit as an extended metaphor for the beginning of her relationship with Matty (he's the neighbor she runs away to Florida with, Joe is the cheating husband.) For more eloquent and detailed thoughts on the narrative of the song you can check out Jaime @cages-boxes-hunters-foxes's post here.

The video is really dense, and I'm not 100% confident in every aspect of my interpretation, but I feel pretty sure that it's making extensive use of visual metaphor in order to tell roughly the same story as the song, just in a different setting. To start, Taylor wakes up chained to a bed in a white dress.

To me this suggests that she's been driven mad by being left at the altar, and is now trapped, surveilled and controlled, in a type of asylum. This represents the end of her relationship with Joe--waiting for a marriage that never came, feeling trapped, mentally unwell etc.

She then takes 'forget him' pills which reveal Post's tattoos on her face when she looks in the mirror.

This represents Matty (the "miracle move-on drug") and shows that he made a mark on her while she was still in the asylum--that is, still in her relationship with Joe. Additionally, in the wide shot where we see the mirror, its size and shape are very reminiscent of a one-way mirror, often seen in interrogation rooms and psychological experiments, further reinforcing the idea that Taylor is imprisoned here.

She then is able to go to the typewriter room and do her work, creating art about how she's feeling, shown by her repeatedly typing "I love you, it's ruining my life" on the typewriter. She's still in pain and feeling trapped. While there, she encounters Post and they create art together, which creates beauty and color in her life. The blue and gold obviously reference her writing about Joe, but the fact that her work is gold and Post's is blue may be a deliberate choice to draw parallels between Matty and Joe, as she does on numerous songs throughout TTPD.

The next scene, where Taylor's hair is down and she and Post are wearing the same black coat and pants, takes place inside her head (symbolized by the shape of the papers they're laying on.) She is dreaming about them being free and creating art together, represented by the papers surrounding them and book she's holding, which has the word "us" written on the cover. She's writing their story before it's begun.

She then reaches for his hand in her fantasy, accepting and asking for this relationship

Then we see that she's being studied and experimented on--the results of the lie detector test read "I love you, it's ruining my life." Her pain is an object of fascination.

Interestingly, Post is part of the group experimenting on her, but when the experiments begin to cause her pain, he liberates her.

This inspires Taylor to destroy the place where she's been trapped, which we see through her opening the filing cabinets that cover the walls and destroying the mirror. I also find the shot of her standing still while papers burn around her interesting and significant; I interpret this as Taylor destroying her own work about Joe. By choosing to leave, she is metaphorically burning--rejecting--the story she wrote about them.

Finally, Taylor and Post enter the dangerous outside world together; the rain echoes the lyric "I chose this cyclone with you" on the album's title track. While I do feel the meaning of Post being in the phone booth is somewhat ambiguous, the framing and the accompanying lyric--"I've been calling ya but you won't pick up" suggest that he's attempting to communicate with her but can't reach her. They are free of her prison, but still separated.

Then, he hangs up the phone and reaches for her hand, and she takes it. The final shot of the video is a close up on their linked hands, presenting us with a cautiously optimistic ending--they are lost and vulnerable in the middle of a storm, but they have each other.

I feel this is a somewhat less sinister, for lack of a better word, portrayal of the start of Matty and Taylor's relationship than is suggested elsewhere on the record, though I believe Post's character being part of the group experimenting on her is significant and the editing creates some ambiguity about exactly when and why she decides to break free. But I hope this clarifies how the video sets up the beginning of this story, the fallout of which is then chronicled over the course of the rest of TTPD.

[writethrough]

Hello! I just finished reading your Morpheus fics and I absolutely love them! So I thought about requesting something, too. Morpheus x reader where reader is feeling well and calls for him. They spend all evening togheter after a long time. reading togheter, watching some movies, talking and sharing their thoughts... until Morpheus notice it’s really late, almost midnight, and it’s time for reader to sleep, but she doesn't want to ‘cause Morpheus is always busy and she misses spending time with him, even whe she's asleep lately he was never there. Morpheus feels guilty and promises her he’ll be more present, especially in her dreams. A nice ending where he stays with her until she falls asleep, and him appearing in her dreams as he promised? Thank you 💖

A Homemade Remedy

(Morpheus x Female Reader)

Synopsis: After days of dealing with your sickness by yourself, you give in and call your boyfriend, hoping he'll come.

Warnings: Minor language

Word Count: 815

A/N: Stop two on the apology tour. I'm so sorry this has taken so long! And I want to thank you profusely for your patience. And for sending the request in. I really hope you enjoy this fluffy little fic!

Normally, you wouldn’t bother Morpheus with this. He had more important things to deal with instead. But you felt as if Death would appear at any moment, and all you wanted was some comfort from your boyfriend. 

You pressed the ruby pendant he gifted you to your heart, croaking his name. 

“Beloved?” 

You blinked, seemingly slower than usual. 

“Hi,” you whispered, covers pulled to your chin. 

He took you in for a few moments, brows pinched slightly. You could only tell he was worried because of how long you’d known him. 

“You are unwell.” 

“S’just a—” A coughing fit started, only ceasing when he handed you your glass of water. “Just a cold.” 

Between the tissues piled in the trash beside your bed, the bottle of medication without its lid, and the two additional blankets on top of you, he knew that wasn’t the case. You’d been here much longer than a few hours. 

“Why did you not call for me when your ailment began?” 

And there it was, the look you were dreading the more you prolonged summoning him. You’re not even sure he’s aware of his “kicked puppy” look. 

You shrugged, pulling the covers just below your nose.  

Morpheus made no sound—as graceful and Endless as ever. The only indication he had moved was the lifting of your blankets as he slid in behind you. 

“Turn around, my love.” 

You were far too weak and needy to refuse. 

Settling with your head on his thigh, he rested a hand on your hair. 

“I am here now, and I will take care of you,” he said. “Whatever you may need, I will gather.” 

“Just this.” Your voice barely carried on a whisper. 

“Then here I shall remain.” 

Morpheus always spoke softer than you would expect while still containing all the authority in the universe, but it sounded even softer. It held gentleness—kindness—a quality that said, “You are precious to me.” 

“What about the Dreaming?” you asked, eyes closed. 

“In Lucienne’s capable hands,” he replied without hesitation. You were so considerate of him and his duties, for once, he wished you’d be selfish.  

“What if she needs you?” Even as you said this, your arm settled over his lap. 

“She has looked after my realm much longer than you will be ill.” 

You squeezed him as best you could at the reminder. You didn’t like to think about what had happened to him. Though you met long after that, it hurt to know someone could do that to another being—human or not. 

Morpheus had reassured you he had healed. Much of that having to do with you. 

“Could you read to me, then?” you asked. 

A book appeared in seconds, his voice matching perfectly to the cadence of the lines. It didn’t matter what he was saying, hearing him speak in that hypnotic rumble was enough. Even the flipping of the page didn’t distract you. He was captivating from the first word. 

He’d read two chapters when your stomach growled. 

“When did you last eat?” His smile was soft, thumb grazing your arm. 

You shrugged, not wanting to be scolded. 

“Can you eat?” 

You weren’t sure if it was how shitty you were feeling, how tired you were, or how helpless you felt, but his words went straight to your heart. 

He considered how you might feel. He wasn’t pushing you to eat, but asking if you thought you could stomach anything. He wanted to help, but not at the risk of causing you more discomfort. 

You nodded, keeping your eyes closed so he wouldn’t see them watering. 

“Here.” He helped you sit up before picking up the bowl of broth that had manifested on the nightstand. 

You went to grab it, but he tutted, picking the spoon up himself and bringing it to your mouth. 

“I can feed myself,” you said after swallowing. 

“I know,” he said. “Please. Let me help you.” 

You ate the next spoonful without complaint, and soon, the bowl was empty. 

“Thank you,” you mummered, head nestled into the crook of his shoulder. 

“It’s late, you must rest,” he whispered into your hair. 

You shook your head, and tried to snuggle yourself closer to him, like if you planted yourself firmly enough, he wouldn’t be able to leave. 

“Haven’t seen you in forever,” you mumbled. “Don’t wanna waste it.” 

Guilt flooded Morpheus. He knew he had been neglectful of you, but you had been so patient with him. You were the embodiment of understanding—and he had taken advantage of that. 

“Go to sleep, dear one. I will meet you in the Dreaming.” His lips pressed to your crown. 

You hummed, head growing heavy. 

And when your eyes opened, there he was, holding you as you laid in his chambers. 

He smiled fondly, brushing your chin with his knuckles. 

“What shall we do now, my love?” 

Taglist: @sayumiht, @hatterripper31, @snowsatsu, @1950schick, @navs-bhat, @bookshelf-dust, @sapphireonline, @fictional-hooman, @steph-speaks, @ladyredstar1991, @secretdreamlandmentality, @ababycake, @morpheuss1mp, @boofy1998, @alice-the-nerd, @herfantasyworldd, @poemfreak306, @tronnily, @commanderfreethatdust

If you’d like to be added to any taglists, please comment or message me with the character you’d like updates on. 

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Fever

Nathan Bateman x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info

Summary: “You’ve heard of a good night orgasm, right? Well, this is a get well one.” Nathan's sick and has a pretty strange idea for a cure.

A/N: Nathan brainrot so big atm guys. Nathan and Reader are already in a relationship.

Warnings: oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, banging when someone's ill, swearing, typos, overuse of italics, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 2870

________________________________

Nathan was surprisingly good when you were ill. Attentive, caring, considerate. 

You’d asked him about it once, his offhand reply being a mumbled: “If there’s a bug in a system, you fix it, you don’t just wait and hope it’ll sort itself out.”

When Nathan was sick however, it was a completely different story. 

He was absolutely god fucking awful to deal with. 

Grumpiness up to eleven. Snapping at everything and refusing to slow down or take a break. Working himself to the point of exhaustion and then further still. 

It was idiotic. But it was Nathan.

So when you walked into the living room to see him on the sofa, curled up and looking washed out it was a bit unexpected. 

He definitely wasn’t hung over, hung over Nathan was a sight to behold. Constantly trying new concoctions and cures that you were sure wouldn’t have been out of place in a history book about medieval torture.  

You paused, a little frown forming on your forehead. Uncertain at first if he was sleeping or not, and whether to disturb him. 

He seemingly made the decision for you. “Baby?” He flopped his hand onto the back of the sofa, vaguely in your direction, and groped around a little, his eyes still closed. 

He sounded weak, drawn in, and sorry for himself. Very unlike the Nathan you were used to. 

You moved to him quickly, taking his hand and squeezing before leaning down and placing your cool hand on his feverish forehead. 

He let out a little sigh of contentment. 

“You’re sick.” You muttered, kissing his temple. 

“No.” He grumbled. There he was, there was your Nathan. He kept his eyes closed.

“Uh huh.”

“Uh uh.” He tugged on your hand lightly, moving it closer to his chest. “Not sick.” 

“What’s wrong then?” 

“Bateria, or viruses. Invading my bloodstream.” 

“So… sickness then?” 

He cracked open his eyes to give you a look. “Come lay down with me?” 

The puppy dog expression nearly got you, Nathan was very good at sweetness when he wanted something. 

“So you can get me sick?” You chuckled. 

“Yes.” He pouted. 

“Are you admitting you’re unwell?” 

“Just lay down with me.” He grumbled, his usual sarcasm didn’t quite have the same bite when he looked as if he might nod off at any moment. 

“Okay.” You pretended that it was a huge effort on your part, moving to sit. But Nathan shifted quickly, a little too quickly, as small multi-colored spots danced in front of his eyes. And urged you into laying down flat on your back, your head against the armrest, before snuggling up to you. 

He laid his head on your chest and breathed out deeply, closing his eyes once more. 

You put your arm around him, just nudging him a little closer and he let out a little murmur of comfort. 

He nodded off almost immediately, breathing softly against you. 

With the sudden technical skill of a surgeon, you managed to fish your phone out of your pocket without disturbing him and spent the better part of 40 minutes browsing mindlessly. 

Nathan shifted, groaning a little as he moved. He stayed quiet for a few seconds and you thought he had fallen back asleep before he sighed again and looked up at you. Blinking his eyes heavily. 

“What time is it?” 

“Nearly 12:30.” 

“Ugh.” He rolled his eyes and buried his face back into your chest. “I feel like shit.” His breath was hot. 

“You look like shit too.”

“Thanks.”

You rubbed his back and smiled. “Can I get you anything?” 

“No.” His voice was still muffled from where he was pressed against you. “A new body maybe.” 

You leant a little closer and whispered conspiratorially. “That can be arranged.” 

Nathan sniggered into you and stretched, flopping his left leg over both of yours. 

The press of his hard cock against you made you pause. 

You said nothing for a moment, just waiting until he slowly started to grind against your leg. A subtle action, seemingly trying to be sneaky about it. 

“Nathan.”

“Hmm?” He said, keeping his head tucked into your chest. 

You put your phone down. “What are you doing?” You said in a sing-song voice. 

“... Nothing.” 

You pressed your leg against his crotch and he moaned loudly, his fingers digging into your skin. 

“Sure, sounds like nothing.” You tease.

He groaned and looked up at you, a small pout on his lips. “It’s not my fault.”

“Isn’t it?” 

He grumbled quietly, shifting again in a pretense moving so that he could prop himself up on his elbow. But really using it as an excuse to grind up against you again. 

“No,” he sulked, his cheeks a little flush. “It’s not. Can’t help it.” 

“Can’t you?” You teased, unable to stop smiling. 

“No, not when you’re all close and, ugh,” he groaned, burying his head between your breasts and pushing them up against his face, “these are right here.”

You laughed loudly. “Am I that distracting?” 

He nodded. “Very.” 

You chuckled again. “Sorry.”

“I was dreaming about you.”

“Yeah?” 

“Hmm.” 

“Good dream?” 

He moaned softly and shifted again, settling fully on top of you and weakly rubbing his dick against your thighs. “Yeah.” 

You grinned. “I’m not fucking you while you’re sick Nathan.” 

He let out a low groan of frustration. “I’m not sick.” 

“Yes you are.” 

“Finnneee, I’m sick, but fucking you would cure me, I’m sure of it.” 

You can’t stop giggling at the weak lamenting tone he’d quickly adopted. 

He grinned, chuckling before he quickly schooled his face back into a pout and puppy dog eyes. “Pretty please?” 

You laughed harder.

“Don’t you love me?” He batted his eyes at you. 

The fit of giggles wouldn’t stop. 

“Come on,” he sat up a little, leaning closer so that his face was near yours. “You’ve heard of a good night orgasm, right? Well, this is a get well one.” 

“A get well orgasm?” 

“Yeah, you know? Releases endorphins, makes your white blood cells work faster, kills bacteria…” He gave you a lopsided grin. “I’m convincing you, aren’t I?”

“I’m glad you’re not a biologist.” 

He purposefully poked out his bottom lip. “Please? I’m sick.”

“Nathan.” You grinned, enjoying his little display far more than you would ever let on. 

“You’re meant to take care of me.” 

“And, why is that?” You lean closer to his face, nearly brushing your lips against his and moving back slightly when he tried to close the gap. 

He groaned a little, wiggling his hips between your legs and you let him. “Because you’re kind, because you love me.” 

“I don’t know about that.” You teased. 

“Because you love me.” He repeated, giving you a little glare. “Because it’ll help, and…” he sighed, purposely dropping his shoulders and failing his arms a little.

This was too good. Far too good. Something about his slightly forlorn brattiness was just so endearing. “And?” 

“And I’m really fucking horny okay? Like so horny, like just let me rub against you and I’ll cum in my pants and take some medicine and go to sleep, I promise.” 

You bite your lips together and smile. “You’d actually take some medicine?” 

He nodded. Nathan not shutting down the idea of taking pills was a feat on its own. 

“Alright.” 

His whole face lit up. “Alright?” 

You laugh and nod. “Yeah, but you gotta behave, take the tablets, and rest, yeah? Work on getting better.” 

He nodded quickly. Seemingly finding new energy as he sat up a little. 

“Okay,” you began to move your legs, intending to get up from the settee and drop to your knees. 

“No, no, no,” Nathan hooked his hand behind your knee, urging you back to your previous position. “Please, stay here, hmm? I want to…” He pulled at your waistband softly. 

You took pity on him. “Do you want these off?” 

“I want it all off.” 

You sighed exasperatedly, an over the top sound for his benefit only. But you smiled as you did so. Quickly, you began to pull off your clothing. “You sure you’ll be okay, I don’t want you passing out or dying on me.” 

Nathan sniggered. “I’ll be fine.” 

He helped you out of your top and pulled your trousers off your feet before dumping your clothes in a pile on the floor. 

He let out a satisfied groan and kissed your breasts, nuzzling into your skin happily. 

You laughed as his beard tickled your skin. 

“Gonna make you feel so good,” he mumbled, breaking away from the embrace only to pull off his hoodie. 

“The point of this is to make you feel good.” 

He tutted and rolled his eyes, “yeah, yeah.” 

“Don’t ‘yeah, yeah’ me, Bateman, I’ll-”

With a surprising speed, he leant up and kissed you hungrily, slipping his tongue into your mouth and grinding his still clothed erection against your core. 

He broke the kiss, grinning wildly when you moaned. 

You scowled. “Trying to give me your germs?” 

“Oh, you’ve already been exposed to them, baby.” 

“That doesn’t mean I want to be exposed to them anymore,” you playfully swatted at his arm. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he grinned before gently taking your nipple into his mouth, sucking on it softly before lapping at it with board flat licks. 

You squirmed under him, your thighs clenching around his waist instinctively. Your breathing hitched and you tried to get a hold of yourself. “What’s with all this ‘yeah, yeah’ attitude?”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, scooting further down your body. “You’ll have to fuck it out of me I guess.” He gave you a perfectly innocent smile before diving between your legs. 

You didn’t know whose moan was louder, yours or Nathan's, the second his lips and tongue touched your core. 

He laps broad strokes through your folds, ending with a swirl of his tongue around your clit before repeating the whole process over again. He groans with each lick, unable and unwilling to stop himself from grinding against the settee as he sucked your clit into his mouth. Humming happily when you buck and arch up against him. 

He looked up at you, watching your face as you moan with his large doe eyes blown wide with lust. 

Teasingly, he dips his tongue into your heat, growling from deep within his chest as new wetness flows out of you. He slides up again, achingly slowly to your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

Slowly he circles it twice with the very tip of his tongue, drawing out the sensation as you gasp and moan under him, before attacking you with long, wide licks fully against your clit. Repeating the motion again and again and again until you can’t even begin to think of anything else. 

“Nathan,” you moan, your thighs shaking, your breath catching in your throat as you beg him to go faster, harder, anything. “Please.”

He ignores you, seemingly content to continue his onslaught at the exact same pace and firm pressure. But his eyes twinkle as you plead. 

You try to buck up against him quicker, moving your hips so you can reach that sweet peak that’s so tantalisingly close. 

Nathan predicts your movement, knowing all your moves, and leans up slightly with every thrust, only allowing the same constant press and glide of his tongue against you. 

“Nathan, Nathan, please,” you implore him as your release creeps closer, sparking up your spine and down your legs. 

He keeps his pace, watching you with glee as he slowly pushes you over the edge. 

You cry out loudly, your thighs clamping around his head as he continues to lap at you. Pleasure washes over you as your cum soaks into his beard. He allows himself a split second of a pause to savour it, moan quietly at the taste, before his eyes are back open and he’s continuing those long, long licks. 

As you start to come down your legs relax and Nathan pushes them lightly back down, still not taking a break in his actions. 

“Nathan,” you whine, tingles of oversensitivity running over your clit. 

He keeps his eyes on your face, hungry and wild. “Uh uh,” he mumbles against you, still licking. 

You squirm, trying to get away from his tongue even as pleasure starts to build up again. You know that if you really wanted him to stop all you had to do was say the word and he would. 

This time your orgasm builds faster, hardly waiting until your first has finished. 

You rock against his mouth, moving with him as he sneaks his hand under your ass and starts to urge you to chase his tongue. 

He presses into you harder, pushing at you with his hand until you’re nearly curled up on yourself. And he doesn’t stop, doesn’t give you pause as he pushes you closer and closer, relentless in his need to get you to cum on his tongue one more time. 

Your moan reaches an even higher pitch as you grasp at the cushions and sofa, trying to gain any traction to thrust up against him harder. 

Nathan takes his cue, quickly latching onto your clit and sucking, flicking the tip of his tongue lightly over the very tip and you scream. 

Pleasure burns along your nerves, whiting out your vision as you buck against him uncontrollably, cumming so hard you see stars. 

He moans, continuously sucking and following your movements, allowing you to rut against his face however you want as you cum. 

The next thing you know he’s kneeling between your open legs, his beard satuatured with your wetness. 

He suddenly doesn’t look ill at all, and you begin you wonder if you’ve been had. 

For a second he watches your chest rapidly rise and fall as your breathing slows before he is taking himself in hand and notching the head of his fat cock at your entrance. 

His eyes flick up to your face for a second, silently asking. 

You nod, too exhausted to do much more, and then he’s pushing in. 

You gasp, the stretch of him is always a little surprising at first, especially when you’re spread this wide. 

Nathan bites his lip, easing in slowly and gazing down at you like you’re a banquet set out just for him. 

He slides in deeper, inching himself in and running his hand up the back of your left thigh, pressing firmly and helping to angle you so your leg is flush against his stomach and chest. 

You let out a little whine as he bucks, finally sheathing himself completely. 

Nathan gasps, his eyes rolling back as your walls squeeze him, and holds on tightly to the leg pressed to his chest. 

He doesn’t start to thrust harshly like you expect, doesn’t piston in and out of you, instead, he starts to grind slowly, barely pulling out and keeping you pressed tightly against him. 

His fingers dig into your leg, his other hand going down to softly circle your throbbing clit as he rocks and buries his face into your calf. 

You can tell he’s close, the way his stomach muscles tense, how his eyes are screwed shut. You move a little, leaning up slightly so you can meet his deep grinds. For a second, you open your mouth to speak, intending to tell him that it’s okay, that he should just let go and cum like you know he’s desperate to. 

But he moves his leg forward, changing the angle he’s kneeling at and you sob in pleasure as his head hits perfectly deep. 

You fall back a little with the intensity, unable to control yourself as he moves and does it again. 

His eyes are open ever so slightly now, watching you with his bottom lip between his teeth and whimpering as you fall apart under him. 

“There?” He whispers and you nod, sobbing as he repeatedly grindes into you, pushing firmly against the same spot over, and over, and over. 

You’re unable to form words, unable to think as he just keeps rocking, pushing you further and further into the sofa, splitting you open so completely and shattering your sanity. 

You don’t know how much more of this you can take, pleasure running like a live wire along every nerve so that it’s almost painful, almost too much to bear. 

Nathan lets out a deep groan, slipping ever so slightly forward so that he has to put his hand next to your head, almost caging you in. His eyebrows pinched together in ecstasy. “Baby…” 

And that’s it. That’s what throws you over the edge. 

You grab hold of his shoulders as you cum, hard. Surprised at the suddenness and intensity. The force of it robs you of words, of breath as you shake and tense, your toes curling as you clench down on his cock and milk him for everything he’s got. 

Nathan cums a second later, watching you fall apart and moaning out your name as he feels you pulse around him. He keeps himself fully in you, cumming as deeply as he can before pressing his forehead to yours and breathing deeply. 

“I feel better.” He whispers, worn out and exhausted, before he kisses you. 

____________________________________ 

Thank you for reading!

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[fatecantstopme]

Let Me Remind You

Pairing: Morpheus x reader

Summary: Morpheus believes you have forgotten how much you mean to him, so he endeavors to remind you…

Warnings: A little bit of angst, a moderate amount of fluff, and a whole lot of smut.

You wandered around the library aimlessly, gently running your fingers along the spines of the books you passed, your mind somewhere very far away. You'd been doing this every day for some time now, and others had begun to take notice.

"My lady?" Lucienne asked cautiously from behind you.

"Hmm?" you hummed in response.

"Is there something I can do for you?" she asked gently. "You have been spending much of your time in the library as of late."

You turned to face her and offered a soft smile. "I am quite alright, but I appreciate your concern, Lucienne."

The librarian nodded, but was not quite ready to back down. "If I may speak freely, my lady..."

"You may always speak freely, Lucienne. You know that."

She cleared her throat softly. "It is just--I have noticed you have not seemed quite like yourself these past few weeks."

"What do you mean?" You knew exactly what she meant, but you weren't sure if you wanted to admit it to her, or even yourself.

"You have seemed, pardon me for saying, but lonely, perhaps?"

You released a gentle sigh. "How could I possibly be lonely when I am surrounded by the lovely dream folk? By your kind presence?"

Lucienne nodded. "Of course, my lady. I only meant to say that I know Lord Morpheus has been quite busy--"

"Indeed he has, Lucienne," you said gently, but firmly. "He is a king, and as such he has duties he must attend to. I cannot, in good conscience, fault him for that."

Lucienne bowed slightly. "As you say, my lady. I did not wish to offend."

Your expression remained soft as you observed your husband's librarian. "Do not worry yourself, Lucienne. You have not offended me." You selected a random book from the shelf in front of you, not even bothering to observe the title. "I think I shall retire to my chambers to read."

Lucienne bowed again. "Of course, my lady."

You did return to your chambers, but you had no desire to read the book you'd picked up. In truth, Lucienne's uncanny ability to notice your emotions had simply made you uncomfortable. She was not wrong, however. You missed your husband dearly. He had been incredibly busy since he'd returned from his time in captivity, and you understood completely. Although, you could admit to yourself that you craved his presence, his authoritative voice, his loving touch. You had not spent more than 10 minutes with Morpheus in weeks, let alone made love to him. While his distance caused you pain, you would not, could not, tell him. It would not be fair, to him or to the realm.

**********

Morpheus was standing in his throne room, bent over a table littered with various papers and books. What appeared to be utter chaos to the untrained eye, was completely logical to him. He was deep in thought, eyes glued to the page in front of him, when he felt the presence of a certain librarian. "What can I do for you, Lucienne?" he asked without looking up.

Lucienne cleared her throat. "Good afternoon, my lord. I wished to speak with you about something rather personal."

That got his attention. He straightened up and his eyes met hers, confusion evident in his gaze. "Personal?"

"Indeed, sir. It is about the Queen."

Morpheus quickly stamped down the panic that threatened to rise within him. "Is something wrong? Is she unwell?"

Lucienne shook her head quickly, wishing to dispel her master's concern. "Nothing of that sort, my lord," she paused. "May I speak freely?"

"Always, Lucienne."

"Well, sir, I believe the Queen may, perhaps, be a bit...melancholy."

His brow furrowed. "Melancholy? In what way? She has been most pleasant around me."

"When was that, my lord?"

Much to the dream lord's surprise, he found it difficult to answer her question. It dawned on him that he could not remember the last time he had really spent more than a few minutes with his wife. His starry eyes met Lucienne's, her own eyes confirming his fear. "She is lonely," he said softly.

"It is not my place to say, my lord, but I do believe you should speak with her."

Morpheus closed his eyes for a moment, reaching out into The Dreaming, seeking your presence. When he found you, he opened his eyes and said in a hushed voice, "I must go, Lucienne. You are in charge until I return."

Lucienne knew he intended to be away for more than a few hours. She simply inclined her head and offered him a knowing smile. "Of course, sir."

Before his librarian was even finished speaking, Morpheus had disappeared from the throne room, leaving his work behind.

**********

You were sitting on the window bench in your room, gazing out at The Dreaming below. The sun had begun to set, casting a beautiful pink and gold glow across the land. You wondered where Morpheus was, as you often had in recent weeks.

As if the dream lord had heard your thoughts, he materialized just inside the closed door. "My lady," he said softly.

You turned your head to look at him, giving him a warm smile. "Do you have time to sit with me for a moment, my love?" you asked.

It almost pained him to hear you voice such a question. As if he could ever not have time for you. "I always have time for you," he said softly, crossing the room to sit across from you, his back against the window.

You sensed his mood, but you were unsure of the cause. "You are upset, my lord. Has something happened?"

He shook his head. "I spoke with Lucienne just now. She helped me realize that I have not been the best husband as of late."

You looked surprised. "You are an amazing husband, Morpheus. I could not ask for a better partner."

He looked at your face and saw nothing but sincerity. "My love, have I not been distant? Have I not left you alone for far too long?"

"None of that is true, my lord. Yes, you have been busy these past weeks, but that is the nature of your role. You are the ruler of this realm, its most vital piece, the essence that keeps The Dreaming alive. Your role as king will always come first. I have understood and accepted that from the very beginning."

Your words brought pain to your lover's eyes, pain you did not understand. “Have I truly failed you so terribly, my love?”

“You haven’t failed me, Morpheus," you answered in confusion.

“I must have, for you to believe, for even the slightest moment, that anything could possibly come before you in my heart.”

You shook your head. “The Dreaming is your creation, my lord. It must come first.”

“You are my love, my heart, nothing will ever be more important. No duty, no kingdom, could ever compare.” His eyes seemed to burn as he spoke, passion igniting deep within them.

You were silent, words failing to come to you. Your husband had changed during his time in captivity, but it was evident his love for you had only grown.

“It seems, my beloved, I must remind you of your importance.” His eyes darkened as he spoke and you realized how he intended to remind you.

“Morpheus,” you said cautiously.

“You deserve to be worshipped, my Queen, and that is exactly what I plan to do.” Morpheus stood up and slowly removed his coat before taking your hand to guide you to the bed. His touch was gentle and warm, as it always was with you. "Lay down, darling."

You did as he asked, as you always did, but there was something different about this moment. He was always authoritative with everyone, even you, but his voice had a gentle, loving quality that you had missed dearly, long before his absence. "Morpheus?" you asked softly.

His eyes met yours and you almost gasped at their beauty. It had been ages since you'd seen them shine so brightly, like stars against a velvet sky. "Yes, my love?"

"You have changed," you whispered, unsure of whether you should utter those words aloud.

His brow furrowed slightly, and a look of sorrow clouded his face. "I have loved you for ages long since passed, though I did not always treat you with the love and tenderness you deserve." He seemed almost heartbroken as he spoke. "I wish to remedy my mistakes. I wish to ensure you know how my heart craves you, how my soul relishes in your very essence, how my body craves the touch of your gentle hands. I wish to worship you, beloved, as you deserve to be worshipped."

Your lips parted and your breath caught in your chest. Never, in your hundreds of years of marriage, had he ever spoken to you in such a way. The loneliness you had felt suddenly turned to desperation. You needed him, just as he needed you. You reached out a hand, silently pleading with him to join you.

Morpheus climbed onto the bed, taking your outstretched hand in his, kissing it gently before placing it against his chest. You could feel his heart beating rapidly beneath his skin. "My heart beats only for you, my love."

You were unsure where the romantic words were coming from, but you were not going to complain. "I love you, Morpheus," you murmured softly.

He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss against your soft lips. "I know, as I have always known." He kissed you again, a little slower this time. "My love for you is as endless as I myself, am."

You let out a heavy breath, desire sinking into every fiber of your being. "Please, my lord. I need to feel you."

"As you wish, my lady." He kissed you deeply, holding your body close as he pressed down against you. Your clothes faded away into nothingness, as did his; a wonderful trick of his you had always appreciated.

The moment you felt the smooth silk of his skin against yours, you released a soft moan against his lips. He responded by tightening his grip on you, long fingers digging into your flesh. Your own fingers clung to his shoulders before finding their way into his unruly hair. You gripped his black locks tightly, earning a pleasured groan from your lover. You had not forgotten how much he appreciated your fingers in his hair.

His lips trailed down to your neck, seeking your most sensitive spot, nipping gently at your pulse point. It seemed the dream lord had not forgotten what you appreciated.

Your moans were soft, but your hands were firm against his skin, a stark contrast to the way his fingers gripped your soft curves. He held on tightly, as if you would simply melt away in his hands if he let you go.

He was more gentle with you than he had ever been, more adoring than you knew him capable of. Each movement, each caress, each kiss was reverent in a way you did not expect from the King of Dreams.

It was not, however, his touch, nor his affection, that made you breathless. It was the way he looked at you, eyes deeper than the deepest oceans, as vast as the universe itself, and brighter than all the stars in the sky. Those beautiful eyes of his never left yours. It did not matter where he strayed, he could not tear his gaze away from your face. It made you feel like a goddess, to be so clearly worshipped by an Endless in this way.

His lips came back up to yours in a gentle, yet passionate kiss. When he pulled away, allowing you a moment to breathe, he whispered against your ear, "What is on your mind, beloved?"

"You," you whispered in return, hands snaking up his torso, appreciating every muscle and curve of his body.

"Hmmm," he hummed quietly, sending shivers up your spine. "What about me has captured your thoughts?"

His hot breath and soft lips against your ear sent waves of desire through your body. "Your eyes, my lord," you murmured. "It is your eyes."

"My eyes?" he asked in slight confusion, lifting his head to look at you.

Yet again, his gaze took your breath away, but this time he took notice of it. He saw the way your pupils dilated, the way your body reacted to his presence, the halt of your breaths...but what he noticed most of all was the way you looked at him. As if he'd personally hung the moon for you and you alone.

"Your eyes hold the universe within their beautiful depths, an endless universe filled with wonders beyond my imagination. They have a beauty to them, and a softness, that I have not seen in many years." You sighed. "They speak without words, my lord. They tell of your admiration, your affection, and your love...all for a woman who had long since forgotten how it felt to be under your gaze."

His eyes turned glossy with unshed tears as he listened to your words. He truly had neglected you for far too long, even before he was captured by Burgess. He had loved you from the beginning, but he had not known how to express that love, but in this moment, he somehow felt as if he knew, as if he had always known, somewhere deep inside himself. "You deserve more than I can ever give you, my love, but I promise to try. I make this vow to you, that I shall always, for the rest of my days, endeavor to show you the love, affection, and admiration I have always held for you."

You laid beneath him, silent and still, afraid that if you moved even an inch, you would awaken to find this had all been a dream. But the way he looked at you, the way his fingers grazed your skin, the way his deep, velvet voice covered your mind and body, all told you this was real. As real as the man hovering over you with nothing but an expression of deep, passionate love on his face. As real as the endless love you had for him. As real as the feeling of his flesh against yours and the beating of his heart matching the tempo of your own. This was love in its purest form. A love from which you would never recover, not that you wished to.

"Morpheus," you said quietly, gentle hands rising to touch his handsome face. "It has been ages since we truly made love. That is what I wish for this night."

He moved closer to you, pressing his body into yours. "Beloved, there is nothing I would rather do, no pleasure I would rather give."

This man, who of course was no mere man, made you desperate in a way you never imagined, and when he touched your body in your most sensitive spots, he made you see stars.

His lips and tongue were gentle at first against your core, a teasing sensation more than anything. You whimpered at the feeling, hips pushing towards him, begging for more.

Morpheus could not help but indulge you (and perhaps, himself). His mouth was expert-level perfection as he feasted upon you. Every flick, every swirl of his tongue, each time he sucked or licked, gave you incredible pleasure. You made the sweetest sounds for him, encouraging him to continue his ministrations. He loved the feeling of your hand in his hair, fingers tangled in the messy locks; your other hand gripping onto his forearm, the only other part of him you could reach.

The whines and moans he tore from your throat began to increase in volume and pitch, an indicator of your impending release. The dream lord tightened his grip on your hips, forcing his face even deeper into you, his own moans sending vibrations through your core. He was as desperate to feel your release as you were to have it.

You chanted his name like a prayer as he took you to the highest heights before calling out his name as you fell over the edge. Your fingers dug into his flesh and tugged on his hair even harder than before, eliciting a groan from deep inside of him. His gentle mouth worked you through your spasms of pleasure, only ceasing when you gave his hair a gentle tug and squirmed away from his lips.

He rose up to look at you, mouth covered in your slick. He licked his lips as he stared at you, enjoying the lingering taste of you. "You taste so sweet, beloved. I could stay here all night, if you were to let me."

You chuckled lightly. "I do think I would pass out from sheer pleasure long before the night was over, my lord."

He raised a single eyebrow. "Is that a challenge, my lady?"

You smacked his arm affectionately, a gesture you had not done since the early days of your marriage. For a moment, you worried you had crossed a line, but your concern was quickly dissuaded when the dream lord gave you a warm smile. "Perhaps another night, then," he said softly.

He crawled up your body, placing soft kisses on your skin as he moved.

"Mmm, perhaps," you responded, desire already digging its claws into you once more.

He paid special attention to each of your breasts, ensuring neither one felt neglected. "I have missed touching your body in this way," he said, almost to himself.

"Hmm?"

He seemed to realize he had spoken out loud. "I simply mean, I have not showed your beautiful body the respect it deserves in a very long time."

You sighed softly, hand slipping under his chin and gripping tightly. You gently pulled him towards you until his lips were mere inches away from yours. "Hear this, Morpheus, and hear it clearly. You have never shown me anything but love and respect in all our years together. Even when we grew apart, I always knew you cared."

He laid his forehead against yours, brilliant blue eyes swimming with emotion as they met yours. "I do like when you call me by my name," he murmured.

You turned your head to the side as you observed him. "As opposed to?"

"Words of formality or titles. I have always loved to hear my name on your beautiful lips."

You smiled and tilted your head up so your lips brushed against his. "Morpheus," you whispered against them.

He groaned softly and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss began as a gentle expression of his love, but quickly morphed into a passionate fire he could not douse.

There was something beautiful and new about this moment, this feeling between you both. Thousands of years of marriage, and yet neither of you had ever felt this before. It was a feeling you did not want to ever lose, nor would Morpheus ever let it die.

The kiss was all-consuming, a passion burning so bright it blinded you. You felt his hands caress your body, every inch of your skin set ablaze by his touch. Your own hands danced across his skin, sending ripples of pleasure through him.

Morpheus sat up, giving you a look you understood. You simply nodded and he wordlessly entered you in one slow movement. You sighed happily, the fullness a welcoming feeling you craved. As his hips began to rock, you moaned against the skin of his chest, teeth digging into his flesh gently as the pleasure overtook you.

He lowered his head into the crook of your neck and murmured his love for you against the sensitive skin. When your nails dug into his back, he gasped your name against your skin.

Everything about it was beautiful and raw, from the way he moved, to the way sweet sounds glided past your lips. Neither of you could breathe, the pleasure too great for any other sensation.

It did not take long for you both to reach your breaking point. The King of Dreams, however, was an exceptionally proud man, and he would never allow himself to feel his release before you. Your pleasure was paramount in his mind, nothing else mattered.

"I can feel you tightening, my love," he said softly. "I know you are close."

You nodded, unable to speak.

"I need to feel your pleasure, my darling, please. Let go for me."

As if all you needed was his permission, you suddenly tumbled into an ocean of pleasure, each movement sending wave after wave of pleasure through your body until your mind was clouded with nothing but him. "Morpheus," you gasped.

Your husband groaned loudly, the love-drunk way you spoke his name enough to give him his own release. His hips faltered and his breath caught in his chest as he emptied within you, giving you all he had to offer.

When he was done, he collapsed on top of you, covering your body in his own. Your arms wrapped around him instinctively, holding him close to you, one hand gently running your fingers through his hair. You kissed the top of his head and closed your eyes, reveling in the feeling of his skin against yours.

"I could stay here until the end of time," he whispered.

You smiled. "I would allow it."

He chuckled and kissed your skin softly. He seemed to realize suddenly that his full body weight was on top of you and he lifted himself up slightly. "Am I hurting you, my love?"

"No," you insisted, tightening your grip on him. "I quite like this feeling."

He smiled and settled back down against you, content to let you hold him close. He preferred to be the one holding you, to always be the one in charge, but in the comfort of his own room, he dropped his guard and let you take the reins. It was yet another way he reminded you of his love. There was no one else in existence with whom he would show such vulnerability, and it was a gift you cherished more than anything else he could ever give you.

[hwanchaesong]

Die For You

Na Jaemin X Reader

genre: fluff, suggestive at the end, sprinkle of angst, f2l au! (reader is having a hard time because of school)

word count: 1.6k

a/n: now this one is for you~ i hope you'll like it 💚 to anyone who wants to make a request, please check the rules. thank you much~

Jaemin doesn't believe in love at first sight, but he does believe in seeing someone for the first time and knowing that one day, you'll fall in love with that person.

It so happens that it's you, that one girl that always sits at the same table in his favorite coffee shop, at the same time with the same order.

You look.. peculiar? Can he even say that? He doesn't think so, he might get wacked on the head by you. But still, he really did think that you're adorable, and it became a habit for him to watch you as you minded your own business.

The idea of talking to you did not even enter his mind, not until you took the initiative because you had enough. You felt like being watched every time, and when you inspected the place, that handsome man was the culprit.

So you approached him, slamming your book and coffee on his table and sitting on the empty seat in front of him.

"Spill it." you said, and boy was he shocked because he did not expect you to be this bold.

"My coffee?" he asked, not entirely sure of what you mean but you can't blame him. The poor man has been relying on caffeine for days just to stay awake.

"No, I mean," you cleared your throat, caught off guard at his dumb reply, "why do you keep on staring at me?"

Then a light bulb switched inside his brain, beaming at you and stretching his arm towards you for a handshake, "Hi! I'm Jaemin and I think you're adorable."

That was the time when a beautiful thing called friendship bloomed. (and it turns out that between the two of you, he was the peculiar one. not you.)

Jaemin looked at his phone again, checking if you had replied to his messages. He does this every twenty minutes and his friends are getting sick of it.

"Just call her." Haechan said, scowling when he saw Jaemin check his phone once again.

"I can't do that. What if she's busy?" Jaemin countered back.

He doesn't want to intrude too much in your life, knowing his boundaries even if the two of you are very close with each other.

He was just worried. He hasn't seen you since last week and you never messaged him back.

"If you don't want to bother her, then wait patiently." Renjun, his other friend advises. A good one, but Jaemin wasn't exactly the most patient man alive.

"But I missed her!" he protested once more, earning him a collective groan among the men in the room.

"Listen," this time it was Jeno who spoke, "all these fiasco of yours are getting boring to watch."

"What?" now, Jaemin was confused, even more so when his other friends nodded in agreement. What on earth is he talking about?

"At first it was fun to watch, now it's just painful and if I'm going to be completely honest," Jeno leaned forward, like he was about to tell the dirtiest secret in the universe, "every time I see you like this, I wanna bang my head to the nearest wall."

"Then do it." Haechan laughed when Jeno threw a glare in his direction. "Jokes aside, I agree with Jeno."

Jaemin raised an eyebrow at them, "Are you guys drunk or something? What are you talking about?"

Ever the clueless Jaemin, everything needs to be spilled out for him that it made Renjun groan and push him out of the door.

"Just go to her man, you can't come back here until you've settled this!"

What good friends he has. First, they tell him things without elaborating and now they are kicking him out of their shared apartment? Well damn. Looks like he got no choice but to go to you.

After a few minutes of walking, he was already at the doorstep of your house, knocking incessantly and calling for your name.

He felt relieved when he heard your voice for the first time in weeks, "Coming!"

Upon opening the door, he was surprised at your appearance. You look so unwell, with the dark bags under your eyes, your tired demeanor and oh? Did you lose weight? What really caught Jaemin's attention was the dried tear stains on your cheeks.

His hands unconsciously made their way to your face and cupped it, "You were crying?"

Your eyes widened, slapping his hands away and shielding your face from his prying eyes, "I'm sorry Jaemin, I'm not really in the mood for this."

You were about to close the door but man was he agile, gripping your hand and hastily entering your home without your permission. (granted that it wasn't really required because you did tell him to come to your apartment whenever he wants to. you even gave him a spare key for free access.)

"Jaemin! What are you-"

He plopped you down on your sofa, "Stay there young lady, don't move a muscle and I'll cook some ramen for us."

He made his way to the kitchen, the clanking of the pans as an indication that he started cooking. You sighed and rested your head on the soft pillows of your sofa, soon, you were drifting to dreamland.

It was a relatively short nap, the smell of something heavenly woke you up. Lo and behold, a complete meal was set in your living room table.

"I thought we were having ramen?"

"At first," Jaemin answered, moving around and setting up the television so the both of you could watch your favorite movie, "but then I saw you sleeping so I decided to make more food. I'm sorry that I woke you up though." he explained, sitting beside you and giving you a sheepish smile.

"I don't mind getting woken up by a feast, honestly." you joked, eyes setting on the television as you two started to eat.

This was fun, you thought, not until you felt that same unnerving stare from years ago.

"What is this time?" you whined, now distracted and setting your food down.

"Why do you always complain? Let me admire you in peace."

You stilled, heart beating a little too fast for your liking. "You still didn't give up on that agenda of yours."

"How could I when you're literally the prettiest person I've known."

No. No. No. No. No.

You can't take this, not this time, you are having such a hard time and you don't think you'll be able to handle this.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt a warm hug engulfing you, Jaemin's scent filling your nose, "I missed you so much, Y/N."

You couldn't help but return the affection, melting in his embrace, "I missed you too, Jaemin. I'm sorry for pushing you away."

Jaemin hummed, momentarily moving away to fix some astray strands of hair, "It's okay, it's you. I will always understand you." he assured you, and for what felt like forever, tears of happiness began to form.

Was it really happiness? You think that some mixed emotions are also in there yet Jaemin was patient, wiping your tears away as you continued bawling. Your snot probably got in his shirt but he couldn't care. You were his priority, and he hates it when you cry like this.

He listened to you well, how you were so stressed about your academics and the never ending school works worsen your panic attacks.

He listened and listened, soft eyes watching you with empathy and sadness.

"You should've told me all of this instead of keeping it in." he mumbled against the crown of your hair, letting you calm down.

"Don't worry, you're not alone now. I'm here." his hands went up and down your back, effectively soothing your nerves.

"Thank you, really Jaemin. Thank you for sticking with me all this time even if I'm such a mess." you sniffled, giggling afterwards when he suddenly tickled you.

"Oh my god!" you squealed, falling onto your back and when you opened your eyes, you see Jaemin on top of you, gazing down at you with orbs full of nothing but adoration.

"I think you're perfect, even if you're a mess." he admitted, "Every day in my life, I see you and I think of how lucky I am because I have you."

"Jaemin." you mumbled his name, voice barely above a whisper as to not ruin the moment.

The noises from the television became static and all of a sudden, all you can focus on was your 'best friend'

"I don't really know how to explain it. I love you?" Jaemin questioned, like he was talking to his self, "That may be it but believe me when I say that I will take a bullet for you."

Jaemin slowly leaned down, his face mere inches away from your own, "You're that precious for me."

"Jaemin." you gripped his shirt tightly, "I love you too." you confessed, and that was all it took for him to seal your lips together in a silent pact that he belongs to you, and you belong to him.

Never in your wildest dreams did you expect that you'll be kissing your friend in your living room, more so when it's a passionate one.

"I'll show you," Jaemin mumbled on your neck, his mouth pressing wet kisses all over your neck.

"I'll show you how much you mean to me."

You never doubt his words, if it's Na Jaemin, then you're sure as hell that he'll do everything that he says.

After all, he's the man who's willing to die for you.

[dilys-min]

DINNERTIME

Pairing: Yandere!Chrollo x Reader

Words count: 557

Warings: Yandere, unhealthy relationship, murder attempt, drug use, mentions of murder.

-----------------------------

"What's wrong, dear? You barely touch your food.". Chrollo's voice wakes you from the trance.

"I don't have the appetite right now. Don't worry.". You say

"Ah! What a shame. After all, you have put in quite an effort to cook this soup. Had I known you were good at this, I would have let you go into the kitchen more often.". You know that is just a lie. Privileges are only earned through good behavior. Resistance never ends well with Chrollo, he has made it painfully clear to you. So you have been good to him, resist the temptation to jump when his hand wraps around your waist, not to ignore him when he talks to you. As a result of your behavior, Chrollo has started to let you go outside for groceries, take you out on dates and recently, you have been given access to the kitchen.

The sedation you have put in the soup will start working soon. When the drugs have taken in, the knife you have been hiding will plunge into his chest. Just for tonight and you will be free. You told yourself

"Dearest, you have been spacing out quite often. Are you feeling unwell?"

"No! I'm totally fine. No need to concern yourself with me."

"Alright then. There has been something I want to ask."

"Do you know what it takes for someone to kill a person?"

You could feel your heart drop in your chest. But before you could answer, Chrollo continues:

"Killing people is easy. All you have to do is forget that you are human."

He slowly rises from his seat and walks toward you. His hand slow trace the line of your face and lift your face up, eyes meeting his

"The human brain has developed a sense of guilt. It is in our nature to feel hesitated when deciding to end one's life. You are always wearing your heart on your sleeve. But that is what I found charming about you".

"Since when did you find out?". You bite your lips

"For a while, I guess. While I do enjoy it when you endear yourself to me, all good things must come to an end, mustn't it?"

You hate this, hate the fact that he always reads you like a book, hate everything  you have done so far, only to be casted away so easily. 

"Now, tell me, where did you hide the knife? We both know lying will only make this situation worse"

"I- I hid it in the pillow case...". You hesitated. 

"Good girl". He purrs and you feel your stomach churning at the sound.

You can tell from his voice that he is enjoying this. If you were a mouse, then Chrollo would be  the cat that was toying with his prey before devouring it entirely. 

"But I must say that was a job well done, given your situation. I honestly didn't expect you would put sedation in the soup, let alone find one."

The silence is too loud and the food has already gone cold. Chrollo crouch down, his breath fanning over your ear.

His next words send shivers down your spine.

"You are more than welcome to try again, dear. Maybe you will succeed one day. But remember that, through hell, I will always make my way back to you."