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celtic-crossbow · 20 days

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Blood Ties Chapter 23

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; a tad bit of angst; smidge of illness; all the pregnancy woes in the world; some suggestive dialogue A/N: There's some serious fluff in this. I tried so hard to keep Daryl in character while having him offer all he could to a person doing something precious for him. I hope I succeeded. The explanation of midnight blue is a little bit of self indulgence. It's my own favorite color and the reason why. I know I skipped the nursing home scene but I took the liberty of adding into the timeline somewhere as a mention.

The events of the day before had ended in the most amusing way, with you nearly inviting Carol in before getting dressed.

“She knows what tits and a vagina look like, Daryl.”

“She don’t know what my dick looks like, Y/N!”

“Touche, sir.”

All ended well and Carol saw no genitalia that fine day.

You had officially worn one another out. After the Tylenol and Carol’s snickers and knowing smiles, you and Daryl fell onto the pillows and slept until the next morning. The fever remained, albeit burning less and less hot each time the old man would look him over. His lungs were sounding better. Hershel removed the IV when the archer proved he could keep up with hydrating and promised to take it easy. Of course, he would. He had you as his warden.

The next evening, after a bowl of hearty stew with the venison you had brought back,—two bowls for Daryl—you laid in bed. He wasn’t complaining, for once, and actually seemed to be close to falling asleep. It had been a relief to watch him eat well, even if he did try to share the second bowl. You were feeling a little nauseated, sharing that knowledge honestly when you turned down his offering. Your condition had definitely improved, the severity of the occurrences much less concerning. Things were actually okay.

“Daryl?” You licked your suddenly dry lips but continued drawing patterns on his bare chest from your spot against his side with his arm wrapped around you. He hummed, his usual reply, eyes remaining closed while his thumb swept back and forth over your ribs. When you didn’t answer right away, he pulled you a little closer. It was unclear if it was intentional or not.

“What?” He cleared his throat, his voice still gravelly.

“Can we—I’d like to know more about you.” Your timid request must have snagged his attention because he was shifting your bodies to lie face to face, one hand below his cheek and the other rubbing small circles just over where the baby had finally stopped tap dancing. He was giving you that look, the squinted eyes that scrutinized someone for any indication of dishonesty or hidden agenda. He should know you better than that by now, but you remained quiet.

“Whaddaya wanna know?” He finally queried, his hand going still but remaining where it was.

“Anything. Everything.” You shrugged your available shoulder. “If we’re gonna do this—be an us—then we need to know one another, don’t you think?” He started tapping a finger against your abdomen.

“S’your favorite color?”

You huffed a laugh through your nose, scrunching it with a smile. “Midnight blue. What’s yours?” He pulled a face, curiosity shining through.

“Why midnight?” He asked with a sniff, shuffling around a bit on the pillow.

“Because even though I know it isn’t, I like to think that’s the color of the night sky. Not black, but dark blue and full stars. Black is nothing, it’s lonely, but to think of it as blue. It’s a little more comforting.” The archer gave you a thoughtful look, the corner of his mouth ticking upward so minutely that anyone else would have missed it. Not you. “Now, what’s yours?”

He mimicked your earlier shrug. “Dunno. Don’t really got one, I guess.” Your silence beckoned him to explain. After moving his hand from below his cheek to chew on the side of his thumb, he eventually elaborated. “Grew up learnin’ to ‘preciate all’a ‘em. House was—it was always dark, ‘specially after mama died. When my old man—I spent a lot’a time outside. Noticed things. Blue sky’d turn a bit purple before it’d snow, even if it was just a lil’. Grass—it’d be green but have those brown pieces where I’d walk all’a the time. Creek looked muddy unless ya stood in it. Then ya’d see the bottom an’ how the water’d catch the light. Sometimes it’d be blue, sometimes kinda green. Just depended on the day.” His gaze had dropped away from you at some point, focused on the miniscule area of bed sheets between your bodies.

You were glad for it because your eyes had started to fill and shine. You were granted the opportunity to blink back the tears before he looked up. Daryl was so much more than anyone had given him credit for, than anyone had been willing to learn. Carol had told you a story about an exchange with Andrea, when she had taken a jab at what she thought was his limited vocabulary.

“Get a dictionary. Look it up. Observant.”

“D’ya like dogs or cats?” He asked so suddenly that you nearly flinched, realizing that you had just been staring at some point past his head for an undetermined amount of time. There was no way he hadn’t noticed.

“I like both, but I’m a dog person.” You frowned. Having a dog would probably be something your child would never get to experience. “You?”

“Dogs. Cats ain’t trustworthy.” It was such an amusing thing to say with such a straight face. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Wait, I need to hear this.” You caught him staring at your lips, maybe watching you laugh or maybe he wanted to kiss you. Both? You pretended not to notice.

“Dogs’re smart but cats’re calculated. Make ya think they’re all innocent when they ain’t. Always up to somethin’.”

“What I’m hearing is that you’re afraid of cats.” You smirked, absently reaching to run your fingers through his hair. Daryl made a disgruntled sound and shook his head to stave off your attempts.

“Ain’t afraid’a ‘em. Just don’t trust ‘em.”

“Right.” You nodded, face falling into feigned seriousness before it became real, your next question burning inside your chest, just below the fear you’d need to surpass to ask. He was likely to shut down the session, maybe even close off completely. You could always hope he’d begun to trust you enough to open up, even if only a little, but the prospect suddenly seemed so far away. “Daryl.”

“Ask.” He was looking right into your eyes with a hint of determination you’d seen before when the circumstances were different, dire even. Was that how he saw this? A dire situation that could result in you being gone in some way?

“Who—what happened?” You let a single fingertip press gently against the deepest scar on his chest, your eyes lingering on it for but a moment before you contradicted his intensity with tenderness. Not pity, but a gentle curiosity. A request to allow you to understand.

“My dad—he was never a good man.” He swallowed hard. “Got worse after mama died. She drank. Fell asleep with a smoke, burned up in our house.” His fingers were plucking at the small space between you, a fine tremor in his hand. He pulled it out of your reach when you reached for it. “Didn’t know what to do with us, I guess. Me an’ Merle—my brother.” The brother that Rick had left behind in Atlanta, the brother who was likely dead. Yet another relative your baby would never know. “Merle tried to—he’d take the beatin’ when he could, did his best. Booked it outta there when he couldn't take it no more. Joined the army.” His eyes were wet, but he sniffed and cleared his throat. “Wasn't nothin’ standin’ between me an’ the old man then—between me an’ the belt. The cigarettes.” He fell silent, clearly finished with talking about his parents.

“Tell me about Merle?” You ventured, shot down with a shake of his head against the pillow.

“Ain’t your turn.” He sniffed again. “Your mama—tell me ‘bout your mama.” It wasn’t exactly a question, more of a soft demand; an it’s only fair. You didn’t mind. You’d accepted her abandonment long ago. You had been content with the amazing father with whom you were gifted.

“She booked it. We didn’t have a lot of money, and she never really wanted me in the first place. Tucked tail and ran the first chance she got.” You shrugged, unbothered beyond the twinge of guilt you felt for being so okay with the hand you had been dealt while Daryl struggled to even think about his past. “I didn’t even miss her. I mean, it sucked at first. I always felt bad, watching daddy struggle. So, I learned to help and that was that.”

He was so obviously jealous, yet another emotion that he didn't know how to process. You saw the anger flare before he doused it, returning to a solemn state of silence. He was awaiting your question, wherein you found a dilemma. Did you push through the conversation about his family? Or did you switch to something else, give him a break?

“Thank you for trusting me.” When you reached for him then, he didn’t pull away. His mask cracked and a few pieces fell away, but he held the rest steady. “That’s enough for now, okay? If you have more questions, I’ll answer them. Gladly. But you’ve shared enough, okay?” When he studied you, you didn’t let him proceed with his usual scrutiny. “It’s fine, Daryl. We can talk more when—if—you ever want to again. You don’t need to tell me anything else.”

He accepted the out with a long exhale and a nod, his gaze falling away. You embraced the silence and its discomfort, just touching him while he was in a place to allow it. You stroked his cheek, the stubble thicker than usual with his confinement to the bed. You smoothed his hair, scratched gently over his scalp. Finally, you scooted closer and pulled him toward you to meet in the middle. Tangling your legs around his, you guided his head to rest under your chin. He let you without complaint or denial, a testament to how he had silently endured when he needed comforting.

The two of you laid there, his breaths evening out to the point where you thought he had fallen asleep. Then, breaking the silence, he cleared his throat. “Why me?” You pulled back just enough to angle your head and look at him.

“Why you what?”

“Why ya settlin’ with me? We can raise a kid together without you givin’ up a chance with someone better.” He took a deep breath, keeping his head down. “I won’t hold ya to it if ya change your mind later—if someone shows—”

“There’s no one better.” You nearly snapped at him, your tone harsher than you’d ever meant for it to be. He flinched and you instantly hated yourself for it. You’d seen someone’s quick movements earn that reaction before, but words hardly affected Daryl physically, not like that. “Daryl.” You silently pleaded with him to look at you, but were left disappointed. “There’s no one better.” You repeated, so softly that it was almost a whisper, your breath disturbing his hair. “I want to raise this baby with you. I want to be with you. I love you. That’s not gonna change.”

He simply hummed, the sound reverberating against your throat. You wanted to throttle him, but none of his self-deprecation was his fault. You hated people you didn’t even know for it. “Don’t deserve all this.” Your brow furrowed deeply at his words. “Feel like m’gettin’ somethin’ meant for someone else. Like m’takin’—” The words died on the tip of his tongue. What could you even say to that? You could tell him he deserved the world—the fucking universe—but he’d never believe it. You’d just have to show him. It would take time and patience that would likely be tested over and over, but he was worth it.

“You’ll see.” You settled back against him, let silence fall between you again. After a while, he actually did fall asleep, the tension you had noticed in him finally melting away into a restful state he so desperately needed in order to continue getting well. A kiss was pressed into his hair. You never fell asleep yourself, simply lying there with him. Your heart ached yet it was full. With your fingers traveling up and down his back in gentle motions you hoped were comforting even within his dreams, you told him again. “You’ll see.”

Daryl was coughing strenuously by the time you reached the truck, his hand pressed hard against his chest. The cold air, the rush of grabbing up all the bags, the running from the herd—it was taking its toll on his still healing body.

“Keys.” You demanded. “I’m driving.” You could see it on his face that he was going to argue, but he doubled over in another fit of coughs and deep, wheezing gasps. Digging in his pocket through the ordeal, he tossed you the keyring. The bags you two were responsible for were tossed into the back next to the bike. It took the archer two attempts to pull himself onto the bench seat, which required the effort of both your bodies to move back in order to accommodate your 30 week bump. Just as your door closed, a discolored hand slapped against the window, startling you into a shout.

The van was already moving when you pressed the gas to peel out behind it, mowing down at least three walkers. Dark blood splattered onto the windshield, smearing but mostly washing away when you used the partially frozen fluid and wipers. Daryl’s forehead was against the dashboard as he fought to catch his breath in the chilled air. You were fumbling for the temperature controls when he smacked your hand away.

“Just—just drive. I got it.” He rasped, the warming air filling the cab a moment later. His back thudded against the seat, shaking it slightly, his head falling back against the headrest with his eyes closed. He was finally sucking in gulps of air into irritated, partially healed lungs. When you reached a point that was safe enough to pull off, you would make sure the group remembered his state of health and didn’t travel for too long before finding anything suitable and safe enough for a stay of at least a few days. “Quit your worryin’, woman. M’good.”

“Just don’t, Daryl.” You argued quietly, desperate to keep the peace between the pair of you that you’d managed to create. “Let me worry. If you don’t fight me on it, I’ll be less likely to do something stupid.” You glanced over, finding his head rolled toward you, his jaw set but he relented with a jerk of his head.

“Fine. Just have ‘em find whatever. S’long as it keeps your ass right here beside me.”

You smiled and silently celebrated your victory, even as he noticed and grumbled beside you. When you placed your hand, palm up, on the seat between you, only a heartbeat passed before you felt him squeezing your fingers.

Roughly eight weeks left, though Hershel said you could safely deliver if you made it at least four more weeks. You were actually becoming slightly miserable. The nausea would come and go, though you actually vomited less and less. Your ankles were missing completely under the puffy skin. Your belly felt so heavy that even just standing was becoming a chore. Lori was sympathetic, constantly giving you advice. Not only you but Daryl as well. You had seen her whispering to him, watched the way he would go completely still, not looking at her but listening intently. Rick could give him all the advice in the world but Lori’s input was crucial. She knew exactly what you needed.

The archer argued with you less and less, though you could see the restraint it took for him to bite his tongue, sometimes literally. He let you hunt with him because you were restless. Lori had said it was because of the urge to start nesting, which you had found amusing, but Daryl already knew about it because of the damn books he continued to snatch up on runs. Why it frustrated you that he was willing to go that extra mile was beyond your comprehension. Maybe because he knew more about what was going on with your body than you did? You should have been grateful, but all you wanted to do was kick him in the shins.

“Can ya just—nevermind.” He grunted from behind you while the two of you tracked some turkeys. You knew they’d be in the trees for the cold weather so you kept your eyes upward, irritating the hunter when you would nearly trip or run into something. Still, he kept his cool, which was admirable for your hot-headed partner. Daryl didn’t like the term boyfriend, you’d discovered during a brief conversation where you’d found your tongue looser than normal and spilling out questions you’d otherwise never ask. The two of you had settled on being partners, though you didn’t feel it was enough to describe your relationship. He had simply shrugged.

You couldn’t hunt with a gun. He’d all but forbade it. Too loud, would draw walkers. So he found you a bow. Not a crossbow but a traditional one. It didn’t take much practice. You only needed to become familiar with the tension of the string, how far to pull for the trajectory and speed needed. Aiming came naturally.

“Shut up, Daryl. I’m fine.” You snapped, instantly muttering an apology. It was but wasn’t his fault you felt so crappy. It took two to make the baby whose little foot or hand or whatever was always pressing into your ribs. You were just as responsible and tried to remember that even when it was you and not him that felt like absolute shit most of the time. As if the world was hellbent on fucking with you, the toe of your boot found its way beneath an exposed root and you nearly faceplanted. If not for Daryl’s constant observance, you surely would have.

He snagged your bicep, dropping his crossbow to reach across your chest and grip your other shoulder. All you needed was a dislocated shoulder when you were already so beyond miserable. He made sure you stayed on your feet, nearly stumbling himself, but saying nothing when you found his irritated but concerned gaze. The weight of it instantly brought on the sniffling you knew was about to lead to a breakdown.

Over the course of only three weeks, the archer had memorized the signs and adapted, learning how to soothe you even at the expense of his own comfort. He immediately pulled you into his arms as close as he could with your ever-growing belly between you, shushing you and rubbing your back.

“S’alright. I won’t letcha fall.”

Noble as his intentions were, that only seemed to stir up even more guilt. “I don’t know why I can’t just listen when you tell me I should stay behind! Why do you let me just do whatever I want even when you know it’s the wrong choice?!” You rubbed your wet face against his button up, leaving a dark spot and not for the first time.

“Cause you’re hard-headed an’ feelin’ like crap. Only make ya feel worse for me to argue with ya.”

And just like that, the switch flipped. “I’m not hard-headed, Daryl! I’m fucking capable and everyone wants to treat me like I’m gonna break!” You pushed him away roughly and stomped forward, sniffling harder than necessary. You heard a sigh from behind you, the sound of him picking up his crossbow and before following at a distance.

When you shot down the turkey, even beyond the pride you felt carrying it back, something told you that he saw it first but didn’t even raise his weapon.

Carol had heated some water for you so you could wipe down, feeling like your skin was crawling after being in the woods all day. It was a foreign feeling for the leaves and cool, fresh air to feel like it stuck to your flesh and needed to be scrubbed away. You were a mess. Your body hurt and you constantly needed to pee. You were irritable. You’d want Daryl to fuck you one minute and then shove him away the moment he touched the slick apex of your thighs. You were torturing the poor man who didn’t have a clue how to provide the type of comfort you needed when he couldn’t even process how to overcome his own lack of it growing up.

You didn’t hear him enter the room as you bowed over the small sink in the dusty bathroom, your skin still damp beneath your long sleeved shirt and flannel sleep pants. You had washed your hair to the best of your ability, the wet strands forming a curtain around your face that blocked your view of the door. You didn’t startle when you felt the heat of his body behind you. It was familiar at that point in a way you couldn’t explain.

“I’m so sorry, Daryl.” You whispered, the syllables of his name coming out as a soft whimper. His hands settled on your hips, fingers flexing nervously.

“S’okay.” He stepped closer and you fully expected to feel his erection press against your ass, but that wasn’t the case. There was only the firm safety of his body, your human security blanket. “Wanna—can I try somethin’?” His voice shook beside your ear but his hands remained steady, digits still squeezing and releasing. Not trusting your voice, you nodded, his exhale warm against your neck.

You weren’t entirely sure what you were expecting but it certainly wasn’t his warm palms sliding beneath your belly and lifting with more gentleness than you were aware a human being could possess. The absence of the weight pulling down was an instant relief, your muscles turning to jello. You leaned back against him and he kept you upright, silently offering you comfort and succor that your body didn’t even know it needed.

“Fuck.” You breathed, eyes fluttering closed and head laying back against his shoulder. The tears came when his lips pressed against your temple, wordlessly expressing his gratitude for what you were enduring. “Thank you.” Your own appreciation trembled over your lips, whether toward the man at your back or a god you weren’t sure you believed in for putting him there.

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starry-eyes-love · 5 months

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Marriage Dynamics- Relaxin' is Hard Work

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

Pairings: Husband Joel Miller x F!Reader (18+ Minors DNI) AU, No outbreak

Summary | Joel takes the day off to spend it with you. You take him to a salon for a couples pedicure and massage, but somehow your wires get crossed and instead of spending the afternoon relaxing, you spend the afternoon working on improving communication in your marriage. Reader mentions she's pregnant, but is too scared to admit it to her husband. Joel eventually figures it out.

Warnings | 18+, Minors DNI. Husband and wife marriage dynamics, age gap (he's 52 and she's 37), language, light smut (reader gets handsy in public), Joel whimpers at her touching him (it needs its own warning), arguments with angst at times, reader berates herself, descriptions of anxiety and panic attacks, reader over thinks things (a lot), terms of endearment used (baby, babe, honey, mama, Angel, etc.), slight flirtatious behavior (what can I say, Joel loves his wife), Joel tickles his wife (it needs its own warning), fluffy parts sprinkled in here and there, reference and descriptions of pregnancy, references to unplanned pregnancy, female reader briefly mentions past abuse with father (yet no in-depth specifics are given), mentions of body issues and body descriptions, mentions of feeling ill (female reader gets sick and vomits in garbage can). Think I got them all. Enjoy :)

Word Count: 6.1k

“Ok sexy mama, I'll get my toes painted” he commented, while reaching down and tickling your belly to hear you laugh some more. You started squealing and squirming as he tickled your stomach, a ticklish spot you had. Joel loved to hear you squeal and break out in a fit of laughter. The more he heard it the more his heart swelled large in his chest and the tighter his pants got in the front. It had been a long time since…

Joel stood there next to you at the counter glancing over all the items that were there, thinking to himself, why do I get myself in these predicaments with her? Here he was taking the day off from work to spend it with you, something that doesn't happen very often. You promised him a fun, relaxing day together. However, as he watched you pay for a couples massage and pedicure, he thought this is not my idea of fun nor relaxin’.

Earlier that Day

"Darlin', I'm not sure about this," he said as you pulled up to the salon.

"Come on Joel, you're always griping about how your back and feet hurt. Now you can take care of them," you replied while parking the car.

You watched him rub the back of his neck awkwardly saying "I know baby, but me, a pedicure? I mean come on, I thought we were gonna do something fun.”

"Joel, you're gonna love it, trust me.”

Joel just glared at you as he slowly ground his teeth while releasing a long exhale. He was trying to figure out how he could get out of doing this.

“Babe, you'll really relax doing this.” You said, trying to get him to see reason.

“No I won't Angel. This-” Joel said, waving his hand towards the salon, “is just plain silly. Sure for you it's fun and relaxin’, but for me, it's just silly. If the guys at the construction site ever saw this-”

“The guys at the construction site, is that what you're really concerned about? The guys?”

“Babe, you don't understand.”

“Yeah I get it Joel. God forbid you spend a day with your wife doing something relaxing. How embarrassing that would be for you.” You replied, letting anger seep into your words.

Joel let out a frustrated sigh saying “Nevermind, ya don't understand.”

You instantly felt a sting of jealousy at his concern, that being seen with his wife would cause him extreme discomfort. Joel hardly saw you anymore, and he never had a problem doing this stuff with you in the past. In a defeated tone you said, “Fine Joel, I get it. This is silly. But babe, we don't get to spend any time together.”

“And you thought that this was the best way to do it? A damn pedicure? Where the hell does this say ‘Joel Miller would love this,’ huh?” You watched him shake his head and look out the passenger window frustrated.

You felt your internal walls go up, wanting to shut down. To close yourself off from people who hurt you. You wanted to retreat back into the darkness of your mind, not allow anyone in again. You've struggled in life for far too long with this concept of not allowing others in. Joel was the only man who could break down those walls, and now you were struggling not to push him out.

In the past Joel used to do fun little things like this with you, even if they were silly. Hell, he was the first person to introduce you to the world of pedicures and massages when he dated you. It was the best activity the two of you could do with his young preteen daughter when he couldn't find a babysitter. You never minded back then as you just wanted to spend time with your boyfriend. You remember one time you were a little hesitant and Joel eased your nerves by saying ‘Come on darlin.' It doesn't matter what the guys at the construction site or anyone else says. I wanna spend time with you. I know this seems silly, but it'll be relaxin’. I can promise you that, so trust me.’ You found yourself repeating those exact same words to Joel now, begging with your eyes for him to remember.

“Honey, that's the dumbest excuse I've ever heard as to why we should do this. Whoever said that to you was a liar and an idiot” he told you, shaking his head and laughing hard. You quickly looked away and felt the red hot burn in the back of your throat start. He didn't remember his time with you.

Joel had hardly been home for the past year. His business, Miller Contracting, signed the biggest contract in history about a year ago out of town. Joel was making a large amount of money, his business skyrocketing almost overnight after years of struggle. You, being his wife, were so proud of him, for his ability to never have to struggle with his business again. He had work lined up for the next 3 years for this big development company, and then he just recently signed two more large contracts for other companies. Joel finally had steady work for many more years to come. You knew that Joel Miller was finally set for life with his business. But you couldn't say the same thing for your marriage.

Joel used to do all these silly little things with you. It's what made hard times bearable in the past. But ever since a year ago your husband's attitude has changed. In the past year you felt like you had gone from Joel's loving wife, to a ‘thing’ or an ‘it’ to him.

“I guess you're right,” you said, looking out the window at the salon. You were trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to come at the realization that life was different now. “I don't know what else we could do at the last minute.”

“Yeah, m’ither” Joel said while picking lint off his jeans and refusing to look at you in the face anymore.

“Joel, do you still want to do something with me today?” You waited in silence as he stared out the window, not answering you.

“Joel” you said a little bit louder, still trying for a connection. But yet again, no answer. Uncomfortable silence continued for several minutes, neither one of you uttering a single word. Finally, Joel broke first by exhaling loudly. He then closed his eyes and rested his head against the seat's headrest.

“Joel, are you still with me honey?” you asked one last time. When silence continued, that's when you understood that you had failed miserably at trying to have a fun and relaxing day.

“I'll just take you home then, leave you alone, and let you rest.” You mumbled out loud, more to yourself. “God y/n, why are you so fucking stupid. If he didn't want to do stuff with you before, he sure as hell won't want to do anything with you now. Stupid, stupid, silly girl.”

What you didn't realize was that you verbalized your internal turmoil, and the man sitting next to you heard it. Joel hated hearing you berate yourself, a bad habit that you picked up from your father and your father's now divorced ex-wife. Joel knew that he was the cause of your current stress and anxiety. After all, he was the asshole who was never home and when he was, you two were always arguing and fighting all the time. Sure, you’ve had some amazing days like Halloween night and a promise of a week ago in the car, something that he never followed through with because he got called away to deal with shit at work. He was failing you as your partner and your husband, but most of all he was failing you as your best friend. You were his best friend, the only person that he loved spending time with. It was just today he didn’t feel up to this silly stuff you wanted to do. He knew he was the one who introduced you to this stuff with Sarah all those years ago, and that today you were just reaching for familiar territory.

Joel sat there with his eyes closed and continued to listen to you berate yourself out loud. Why does she fucking do this to herself, she knows better, he thought. He was just about to open his mouth and yell at you to knock it off when he heard you whisper “Baby, I don’t know how to tell your daddy that you’re in there. How can I when your daddy and I can't seem to find common ground anymore.”

As soon as he heard your little admission, at the potential of you being pregnant again, Joel snapped his eyes open and looked over at you. How did I not notice this, he thought. He immediately started scanning over your body, looking for any signs that he may have missed. When he stopped and really looked at you he saw them. Your black t-shirt sat more snug around your chest, he could see that your breasts were slightly swollen. Your curves were more profound, not from fat, but from water weight he suspected. Your tummy, a little pouch forming low on your belly. That's a baby, he thought. His baby, the one he put there on Halloween night. You always started to show really early on in your pregnancy. According to your doctor it was extra water weight, but to Joel it was a sign of life. Something that he hasn’t seen your body do for many years, considering your youngest boy was now seven.

Joel continued to trail his eyes slowly back up your features. He noticed the dark circles underneath your eyes. You weren’t sleeping and that worried him. You two had lost a baby before when you were 22 weeks along, a little girl that came a year before your youngest boy. He had given you two boys, but he knew you always wanted to try again for a little girl. But somehow life got in the way and you two never tried for a girl again. He was hoping this time around it was a girl.

With remembering your past pregnancies, Joel wondered how you were feeling. He knew the first stages of pregnancy were hard on you. You’d hardly sleep or eat, nausea being the worst culprit. With Joshua, your youngest, you could hardly keep anything down during the entire pregnancy. God, he hoped that wasn’t your fate now. At least he was making enough money to cover all the living expenses, in case you weren't able to work through it like before.

Joel then allowed his eyes to roam higher up to your eyes, that's when he saw that they were bloodshot. You were crying and berating yourself because of how he made a stupid comment, that he was embarrassed being seen with you at doing a pedicure. Jesus Joel, you’re such a fucking asshole sometimes, he thought.

He sat there and watched you for a moment, at your struggle to try to stop the tears that were falling from your eyes. Seeing this, hearing your confession and actually looking at you, at how stressed out you were made his heart ache. He hated to see you cry, and yet you've been doing that a lot recently, thanks to him.

"Come on, darlin,'’ you heard Joel say. “My back and feet don't have all day. Let's get this salon pampering day started.”

"Joel it's ok, we don't have to-" you said, wiping the tears from your eyes.

"No," he said. "It's a perfect idea honey, the best way to relax. I'm so sorry for snapping. I'm just- fuck baby, I'm stressed and struggling to find a proper balance between both worlds. Now come on darlin.’” Joel said, while giving your hand a tender kiss. As you both walked towards the salon, Joel gently intertwined his fingers with yours. He gave small soothing strokes with his thumb, reassuring you that he was here and present for you.

Soon Joel found himself staring at a wall with different colors of nail polish. He was being directed by you to choose a color that he wanted his toes to be painted with. "Darlin', the lady at the counter said I don't need to pick out colored nail polish."

"Tough cowboy, you're doing it. Plus it'll show support to women everywhere if you do." You tried your hardest to give him a convincing answer of why you wanted him to do this. He just looked at you and smirked, seeing straight through your attempt.

“Supportin' women has nothin' to do with it. Ya just want to laugh at me, that's all." He said, shaking his head at your attempt with reasoning with him. Why do I always get myself in these situations with her? But as he glanced over he saw you smiling ear to ear. You were practically jumping for joy at the thought of having a couples massage and couples pedicure with him. That's when he knew that all of this was worth it, especially if he could see you look happy and smile like that again.

As you were wiggling in Joel's arms laughing you happened to accidentally brush your hand up against his clothed crotch, and that's when you felt it, a firm prominent bulge. As soon as your hand brushed up against him you heard Joel let out a hiss at the sensation. He then gently nudged his hips against your hand while giving you a little whimper.

“Joel, how long has it been?” you asked, slowly palming him in the front. You were concerned, Joel was never this sensitive to sensation before and he's never whimpered like that just by the meer push of your palm. Oh, poor baby, you thought, you weren't the only one who had been neglected. You palmed him harder, trying to show him what you wanted. You felt him twitch and throb beneath you. “Baby, how long?” you whispered, pushing harder with your hand as he rutted up into you, seeking out more friction.

“Too long,” he panted. “It's been too fucking long since I, since we, fuck woman” he growled and snapped his hips forward, desperately seeking pleasure from you. He wanted to open his pants and tell you to get down on your knees and to suck his cock. He wanted to fuck your mouth so bad, then bend you over one of those salon chairs and bury himself inside of you. He wanted to show you he could be the man you needed, and be the father for your children. He wanted to put a baby inside of your nice soft-

“Baby, when was your last period?” Joel said, stopping his movements and racing mind for a moment. When you didn't answer he continued by saying “I don't remember when you had your period last. Have you had one in the last two months?”

“Don't worry about it” you said, while slowly pulling your hand away. This was not a conversation you wanted to have right now.

You walked over to the side, a few feet away from Joel and you were pretending to look at the colors of nail polish. What you were really doing was trying to slow your pounding heart in your chest. Joel approached you and slowly started to stroke your little bump saying “how late are we talking mama, huh?”

“Joel it's only 10 am and-”

“S'not what I meant sugar and you know it. Come on mama, how far along are we?” Joel said, flattening his palm over your belly and holding it there.

You looked into your husband's eyes and saw compassion behind them. You were just about to open your mouth and tell him that you were 3 weeks late when someone said “Y/n and Joel Miller, they're ready for you.”

As soon as you heard them call your names you backed away and grabbed the purple nail polish that was right in front of you. It reminded you of the first time you did this all those years ago with Sarah and him. It made you smile at the warm memory. This one is perfect, you thought. You handed it to Joel saying “I think this color would look great for the both of us.”

When Joel looked down he saw that the nail polish was purple with sparkles in it, your favorite color. When he glanced at your face he saw uncertainty in your eyes at the events that just played out. So with a grin and a squeeze from his large hand he grabbed the jar from you and said “Ok, purple it is. Now come on mama, let's go and get you nice and relaxed.”

Three hours later Joel was slowly relaxing. He was laying on his stomach, purple sparkly toe nails poking through the blanket, as a very attractive woman worked the hell out of his shoulders. Kiara, Joel's masseuse, was an expert in deep tissue massage. After the staff found out that he basically was one big hard tight knot, he was advised that deep tissue massage would be the best option.

"Aw darlin' right there," Joel said as Kiara worked on his lower back.

"Mr. Miller, you're so stiff and tight. It's gonna take me a bit to work you fully out. Does it feel better when I press right here?" Kiara asked, pushing on Joel's lower back, a place you knew turned your husband on.

"Ah yeah, right there" Joel grunted at the sensation.

You were on your own massage table being worked on by Fredrick, a middle aged man with a beer gut. While Joel had Kiara, a 42 year old big breasted, fully fit porn star looking woman. You know, the type of women your husband likes to look at when he's browsing those adult only sites.

As you continued to watch Kiara flirt with your husband, you felt your insecurities creep up into your skull, worrying you. You had no idea if Joel would be ok with this unplanned pregnancy. You knew the old Joel would be ok with it. But now you had no idea how he'd react, especially with how he has behaved this past year. The longer this went on, the more your irrational fears seeped deep into your subconscious.

When Joel moaned for the third time in less than five minutes at Kiara asking him if something felt good, you found yourself snapping at your husband. "Joel, for the love of God, can you please just shut the hell up? Really, no one wants to hear how good it feels to have someone else touch you." You didn't know why, but you were upset, angry, and hurt all at the same time. Somehow hearing someone else pull those little sighs or grunts out of your husband bothered the hell out of you.

"Look here woman, I'm enjoying myself, ok? Your fault for making me do this. So pull back the attitude now." He said, snapping at you.

After a moment he added, "What's with your attitude anyways today, huh?"

"I don't know Joel, why don't you tell me."

"Look here missy, I don't know what's up your ass today. But whatever it is, it can just stop. Don't ruin this for me with your petty bullshit. Got it?" he said, with a warning in his voice.

"Petty bullshit, really? Are you kidding me Joel? You promised me you’d spend time with me today. And-”

“And what y/n? What more could you possibly want from me today than what I’m already giving you?”

When you didn't open your mouth to argue, Joel assumed the problem was solved. That you'd stop throwing your little temper tantrum. But what he didn't realize was that the emotion you were now feeling wasn't one of defiance. You were feeling neglected and you didn't want to do this day anymore. You thought you could have a fun day with your husband, like you used to when you two dated. But now, you just wanted to go home, and pretend that today and this past year never happened. You wanted your husband to be around, present more, and not treat you like you were someone who was a burden or a checkmark on a list. You wanted to pretend that your husband still cared.

When you counted it up, it had been almost two months since you and Joel had sex last. To make matters worse, your period was almost 3 weeks late. You were worried about what he'd say when he found out. You were pregnant, that much was evident on the pregnancy test that you had taken over a week ago. You knew that your fears right now were irrational, that you were just making something out of nothing. But to you your fears felt very real. And with Joel smiling and laughing so easily with Kiara, it made your stomach hurt and twist in knots at the thought that he didn't want you anymore.

You were so lost in your own head, that you didn’t notice that Fredrick had stopped massaging your back. He could sense how tense your body was, and the turmoil of feelings that you were feeling. "Mrs. Miller, are you ok?" he whispered. When you didn’t respond to him right away, he said louder “Mrs. Miller, are you ok?”

As soon as Joel heard the question from Fredrick he snapped his head to the side to look at you. When he saw you, you were laying face down, your hand up by your mouth as you were sobbing into the table. “Baby, are you ok?” Joel asked, worried and concerned of what made you fall apart like this.

"Yeah, I'm. I'm fine” you said, trying not to have your voice break. “Can you um- can you please excuse me. I gotta- I don’t feel well.” You then got up, and walked into the changing room that was attached, tears still streaming down your face.

As Joel watched you walk away he knew this little adventure the two of you were having today was over with. He apologized to Kiara and Fredrick, stating that the both of you would be leaving early. As he went to his own dressing room to get dressed, he started thinking to himself. He knew that you were stressed out a lot, and that the two of you were having problems. He also knew that you just wanted a day to relax with him, so seeing you like this broke his heart. You have cried a lot recently and he could understand why, but it still bothered him. He didn't mean to snap at you today, he was just stressed out himself. He began to realize though that his stressors and your stressors were drastically different.

Something was up with you, that much was certain. You were more sensitive and emotional recently. If he attempted to ask you about it, you'd just blow up at him. Usually when you were more emotional it meant that you were by or on your period. But Joel was confused, especially with seeing those other bodily signs that you were having. Were you pregnant and he just didn't see it? Or were you having flare ups of your gynecological problems again and he wasn't noticing it. He was so busy with work that he didn't remember if you had your period yet, that's why he asked you earlier today. He was trying to calm his own irrational fears of being an inattentive husband.

The problem was he didn't know what was off or how to fix it with you. If your admission earlier was true, that you were in fact pregnant, then why did you hide it from him and not tell him? Were you embarrassed in carrying his child? Joel was lost in thought, trying to figure out what he could do that he almost missed hearing you get sick in the other room. As soon as he heard the telltale signs of you throwing up he muttered to himself “shit,” and finished getting dressed.

While Joel was in his dressing room getting lost in thought, you were in yours doing the same thing. You quietly dressed in your changing room, trying to calm the tears that were flowing. As you looked down you noticed the little bump you had. You kept trying to flatten your shirt overtop of it, to hide it from the world. You weren’t upset that you were pregnant, you were just overwhelmed at the moment and didn't want to think about it. But the more you tried to suck in your gut, to flatten your shirt, you started to slowly panic. You tried tucking in your shirt, then you untucked it, nothing worked to hide what was growing inside of you. You couldn't hide the embarrassment of getting pregnant from a man who you didn’t think wanted you anymore. In your experience, which was limited, an unplanned pregnancy when there were marital problems never resulted in a happy ending for the mother or wife. As this realization hit you, you felt the bile rise up fast in your throat. Your hands were shaking, and you were drowning in your own irrational fears and anxiety. Worst part, no matter what you did you couldn't calm yourself down.

Tears began to flow hard again from your eyes as you tried anything to stop the anxiety from swallowing you whole. You felt like you were suffocating, drowning in a pool of uneasiness. Your vision went fuzzy, your ears started to ring, and the whole world started to spin on its axis. You reached out and were fumbling around the room, trying to find something to grab onto to center yourself. As soon as you grabbed the garbage can your knees buckled and you collapsed. Your heart was pounding in your ears and you felt the bile rise up fast again in your throat. You grabbed the garbage can just in time as your body heaved the entire contents out of your stomach into the trash.

You were retching so hard into the garbage, shaking with panic as tears flowed down your face that you never heard the door open and a man approach you. Your anxiety was swallowing you whole and you said with a breathless plea to yourself, in-between vomiting sessions, that you were scared and couldn't do this anymore. Then like a miracle from heaven, you felt those familiar rough hands gently reach out and center you once again.

When Joel entered the room his heart sank at seeing you collapsed on the ground and retching into the garbage can. You were pleading for someone to help you, to make the pain and anxiety stop. You were drowning in your own anxiety and it broke his heart. No one hurts my babies, he thought, especially him.

Joel slowly walked up to you and gently reached out to gather your hair into his hands. After he pulled it back from your face he placed one of his hands gently on your tummy, while whispering “Shh, mama. Take a breath. Come on now, you’re okay. I'm right here and I ain’t leavin’. Shhh.” He continued to rub soothing circles on your belly, right where the little bump was. When you were finished emptying the contents of your stomach Joel grabbed a towel and gently wiped your mouth saying “well, I thought that wasn’t gonna happen for a while yet.”

“What?” you said, confused, feeling completely worn out by today’s events.

“Baby, you do a bad job at hiding it.” Joel said with a smirk on his lips.

“Joel, I don’t know what you’re-” and then it dawned on you, he heard you. He heard your admission in the car that you were pregnant. As soon as that realization hit you, Joel watched your eyes go wide as you started to shake your head violently back and forth. You stood up and immediately started backing away from him, eyes blown wide with anxiety and panic once again.

Joel slowly stood up and watched you as realization took hold of you of your earlier admission. “Baby, take a breath for me, ok?” he said, trying to calm the fear and panic that you had. As he slowly approached you he said “sugar you gotta slow your breathing down, come here, let me help you.” He slowly reached out to you so you could center yourself.

“No, no, no. You can't know, I can't do this alone. Please God, why is this happening to me?” you said out loud, not wanting the world to fall apart around you. You didn’t want this discussion now, not when you didn’t know what you could do. You didn’t want him to kick you out, to say that you disappointed him, that you were a disappointment. Joel never said those words to you, your father did when he found out that you were dating his best friend. And the way your father dealt with it was to kick you out of the house, after he berated you in front of Joel. You knew Joel wasn't your father, but in this moment your father’s voice and Joel’s voice blurred together in your head.

When you felt your back hit the wall you knew that your running was over. You had to face the man in front of you, whether or not you wanted to. You instinctively wrapped your arms around your chest, hanging your head low when the sob that you’ve been holding back all day finally broke free from your chest and swallowed you whole. Your knees buckled and you started to fall to the floor like a ton of bricks sobbing hysterically saying “I can't be homeless again. I can't do this abuse again.”

Joel wasn't trying to scare you, he just wanted to center you and stop you from spiraling out of control. But when he saw your knees buckle he said “shit” and moved fast to catch you. He then wrapped his big arms around you, and pulled you tight to his chest as you let out all of the anxiety and frustration of the last several weeks.

“Come on now little one, don’t cry” he said, calling you a nickname he hasn’t called you for a long time.

“I’m sorry Joel, I’m sorry” you kept saying, as you let out all of your pent up anxiety.

“No. Come on baby, don’t say that. You got nothin’ to be sorry for. Let's slow your breathing down, yeah? Alright little one, how ‘bout you breathe with me.” He said, speaking softly into your ear. You felt him slowly lower his hand to the small of your back, rubbing tiny circles on your skin, attempting to quiet your tears. You also started to match his breathing with long inhales and slow exhales.

After listening to him breathe and matching his breathing for a while he slowly lowered his hand to your belly and gently started stroking it. You then heard Joel whisper in your ear, “I love you baby, no matter what. I need you to know that I’ll never leave you, no matter what. Ok?”

When you didn’t respond he took a step back, bent down and looked you straight in the eyes. You nodded your head slightly, attempting a weak smile as you finally had calmed yourself down. He stared at you for a moment, assessing your features to see if you truly were done with your panic attack or if you still were in it. When he realized that you weren’t going into another one, he gently tucked you into his side and whispered “ok mama, how ‘bout we get you home so you can lay down and relax. You've had a tough day honey.”

After a few silent minutes of gathering your things together, eventually the two of you started to walk for the exit of the changing room. Before you exited the doorway you said “Joel um- I got something I wanna say.”

Joel stopped and looked down at you, gently nodding his head. This was it, the moment you were going to say that you were pregnant. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You started to panic and overthink things again. What happens if he’s mad at me and yells at me again? You were silently having an internal tug-o-war with yourself.

Inside Joel was frustrated with himself that you couldn’t be honest with him. He was silently scolding himself for creating this environment in which you didn’t feel 100% comfortable with talking with him. Something that he promised himself that he would change, starting right now. As he stood there and watched you play tug-o-war with your mind, he tried to give you the warm environment of being relaxed, yet his own stomach was churning and twisting itself into knots.

“Joel, uh-”

“Yes darlin’” he said, coaxing you gently to speak.

“I- uh. Shit.” you couldn’t do it, no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t say the words ‘Joel I’m pregnant.’

Joel could see that you weren't ready, but he wanted to give you the reassurance that you needed. He reached his hand out and gently placed it on your belly, on top of the little bump and said “I know mama, it's scary. You can tell me in your own time when you feel comfortable, yeah? Just know that no matter what, I love you.”

He gently kissed the top of your head, and with a smile he ushered you out towards the front desk. He sent you out to the car to relax as he squared away the fees for you being sick. When he got back into the car he groaned for a moment at the feeling of his back tightening up again.

“I don’t get how ya women think this is relaxin’.” He said, looking over at the salon as he put the car in reverse. “My back feels like it’s in a million more knots now. Shit.”

With a small smirk you said “Joys of deep tissue massage honey.”

“Yeah well, I feel like I went 20 rounds with that damn massage table. It kicked my ass good and hard too. This relaxin’ stuff is hard work hon.” Joel said, slightly groaning while having another back spasm.

“No, I just think it means that you're an old grumpy man,” you said, nonchalantly.

Joel was stopped at the light, waiting for it to turn green. He glanced over at you, eyes wide at your statement of him being an old grumpy man. “S’not funny babe,” he grumbled.

“Well honey, it's the truth” you whispered, as you softly kissed his cheek. “At least we know this still works” you added, giving him a playful bite to his ear as you gently cupped your husband's crotch. You palmed him for a moment and felt him slowly enlarge at your words.

“Does that feel good baby?” You asked in a sultry tone, as you slowly stroked your husband's cock through his jeans.

“Ya already know it does,” he said, in a husky voice.

You gave him one more chaste kiss and a firm squeeze before you removed your hand. As you slowly turned your head to look out the window you felt your husband's hand on your thigh. He was rubbing small soothing circles there. It was his way of reassuring you that he cared and was still here for you. You lightly grabbed his hand and placed it firmly against your lower tummy, humming as he began to stroke your little bump there too. You couldn't verbalize it to him yet, but this was your silent way of reassuring him that you were in fact pregnant.

Joel melted into this touch, the feel of your little bump, of his baby growing inside of you. This small simple measure finally calmed his fears. He knew that you loved him and that he loved you. No matter what he was going to be there for you and help you through this. Even though he was 52, and you were 37, and having an unexpected pregnancy was never ideal. Joel loved you and this little baby more than anything. As he silently rubbed your tummy he thought to himself everything is gonna be alright. And I can't believe that I'm gonna be a dad again ❤️

-End Part 3 Prologue-

A/N: More will come in the future with these two (proper chapters) as we take them through their pregnancy journey together. If you're interested in reading their origin story, make sure to check out the other series titled Love Never Fails coming out January 2024.

Taglist: @punkshort @shotgun-shelby @strawbunnyx @orcasoul @pedritoferg @chiogarza @jesfreedark @untamedheart81 @rainbow12346 @nandan11 @swiftpascal @eliza-8 @joeldjarin @vickie5446 @nastiasnow @staywildflowahchild @ratoonstown @l3lazeit @its-always-420-on-the-moon @kirsteng42

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maritotoy · 3 months

Text

MAUGA X Support/Medic Reader ((Part. 1))

NOTE: Believe it or not, I never realize how long I've written this one.

This narrative tracks Mauga's obsession with Y/N as it grows to the point where he is prepared to kill everyone who stands in his way. With this in mind, Mauga's commitment would gradually grow. He would start out softly and then this need on you would get stronger.

It all began when your talents were initially utilised for recruitment. You were a terrific help, willing to assist your teammates in whatever way they needed.

Your main issue was that you could never truly let them handle things on their own. As a result, it became increasingly difficult to care for yourself.

They promised you riches if you helped them fight back against their threat. There were only so many ways to profit from rival worlds, after all. You were aware that you were going into a whole new universe when you agreed, but you also felt that you had no choice but to accept them.

Ultimately, you didn't wish to pass away, did you?

It was stated to you when you first joined TALON Organization, that you should concentrate only on the battlefield. Up until you met Baptiste, an exceptional combat medic, it was great with you. Your shared enthusiasm for curing illness is what unites the two of you. It turned into a shared passion. As you try to acquire experience in several areas, like medical supplies, you both hope to discover some more useful abilities, like healing or even a unique kind of combat capability.

But you can hardly ever get to Baptiste, he's constantly at the top. Both a combat mercenary and medic. You're always looking for ways to sharpen your skills.

Even after meeting him again at your base and on missions, you are still determined to improve your ability to deal with any possible emergencies. Not until later do you find out what happens when a member of your unit gets injured.

Baptiste surged in, carrying an imposing stature and a solid, muscular frame. His voice sounded desperate, asking, "I'm sorry if I came to you! I know you are busy, but I need help with my friend, please, Y/N!" The urgency was so obvious that there wasn't much resistance. Even if he was a doctor himself, it must have seemed urgent enough.

Besides... You were in the right place to help.

You rushed over to his side and helped him stabilize his huge friend. "What happened, Bap? Are you hurt?" He didn't reply, but his eyes told you all you needed to know.

You fix your sight on his pal. He does not appear to be hurt or seriously damage. However, the man's body is completely soaked, which looks very suspicious to you. "Is he alright, Bap? I don't see anything wrong." He shook his head and gave a sigh.

"We were attacked. Mauga and I found the source of the enemy attack and got separated."

"How long has it been since then?"

"Four hours, maybe five."

"Do you have any idea of what may have caused the damage?"

"I'm not sure. However, I had already discovered him unconscious but unharmed on the ground. It should not take long for him to awaken.." You glance at the unconscious man again before you say, "Let me take a look at him." He nodded and stepped aside.

"Mauga could never be wounded by shots like that. Despite his size, he could easily absorb one hit thanks to his physique." He explains.

You crouch down and check on his comrade. He seems fine to you. There's nothing unusual about him, other than the fact that he's a bit too heavy.

You knew Mauga.

And with such.

You just don't know how to engage with him.

On a conversation? Yes. Your profession is your duty.

You don’t really get along with those who rely solely on themselves as an advantage, even though you respect their abilities.

The feeling is mutual. Every time someone gets hurt because of something beyond their control, you are there to help them.

Because that's your job as a medic.

You both have quite a difference in interests, though. You can't stand the fact that he’s so reckless, you can't understand why he doesn't think more carefully before he acts. As soon as he sees blood, it's always the most important thing.

Mauga stands tall, towering over his opponents with an impressive height of 7'5 ft tall. (My headcanon)

Mauga is a formidable opponent on the front lines thanks to his strong, muscular physique. His broad shoulders and thick neck gives off an air of strength and power, and his body is well-built, demonstrating his strength and capacity to deal severe damage to rivals.

Did I mention he has two hearts?

Unlike you, Mauga is a ruthless and cunning individual, driven by his own motivations. He never lets anyone interfere with his goals, whether or not they involve you. While he might act with reckless disregard sometimes, he is also able to calculate the best course of action.

Not anyone knows this. But you knew nontheless with Baptiste.

You may be underestimating him in some way, or you may have witnessed the genuine thing, up close and personal, but he always brags about his achievements without hesitation or shame. His fighting style turns wild and unpredictable when he fights. If Mauga doesn't want to win, he will take his time, before using ChaCha and Gunny, his chainguns, to grab the victory, and he won't give up until he achieves his objective.

He definitely is careless, isn't he?

"He's breathing just fine, Baptiste. I would say he is in perfect health, aside from the injuries, I can't detect any signs of any damage injuries either." You said as you stood up. Baptiste sighs relief. "I'll leave him to you doctor. Don't worry, I trust that you have everything under control." He says this to you while nodding in satisfaction.

This gesture of his is a way of gratitude towards the medic's work.

"I will be back later," he says as he leaves to make a round to prepare for battle.

While Baptiste was gone, you sat next to the downed mercenary soldier and begin to observe him. In the midst of his unconsciousness, he seems to be in a good state. There was no sign of discomfort or pain. His pulses are fast but steady, knowing that Mauga have two hearts, one that allowed him to replace his damaged, organic heart with a cybernetic one. That way, his heart will beat twice as fast. You can easily tell that Mauga is in his natural state.

Your eyes began to feel heavy after observing him for some time. You weren't sure if it's due to fatigue from watching him, or simply exhaustion from your duties as a medic.

Before you knew it, you fell asleep.

When you awoke, you find yourself staring back into the face of Maugaloa Malosi, whose lips formed into those flashing, same pasted smile as usual. “Ah, Doctor. How nice to see you again.”

You quickly wake up, sitting straight up on the chair. “M-Mauga!" You exclaimed, alarmed. "H-How is you- I mean are you feeling alright?”

He grinned at you. “I am feeling rather fine.” You let out a long, sigh of relief. However, you didn't anticipate that this would happen frequently. “I see..." You replied.

Silence takes over for a while. Mauga stared at you intensely before taking a step forward. “Your Y/N, correct? Baptiste little assistant. I've heard much about you, but never expect that I would get to get treated from you.”

You flinched slightly at his words 'assistant' and the word 'little', but you remained calm. “I'm glad that you feel better now. You should rest and recover. If you still need them..."

“I appreciate the concern,” he says as he reaches towards your shoulder. You instinctively raise your hands in preparation of blocking. This caught him off guard, causing him to pause in his movements, then booms laughing.

“My apologies, Teuila. I thought that you might have forgotten what I do here,” he said in that familiar, friendly tone.

“If I recall correctly, I haven't given you permission to touch me.” This comment caught him off guard as he chuckles deeply.

He stares at your hand for a while longer. You're beginning to become worried. After a brief silence, he reaches forward and lightly holds onto your wrist.

“That’s a very sensitive spot…” He whispers gently. Your heartbeat begins to accelerate. “And your pulse is fast. Is this normal?” he asks. “Yes,” you respond in a soft voice.

“Then why are you afraid? You know I'm not going to hurt you...” He grinned. His sharp teeth glinted menacingly in the dim light. "Surely you've already made a friend? You also gave him a lot of attention than you do with me. Or have you grown to dislike me?"

"...I... I beg your pardon-" your speech is interrupted by Baptiste with a tired expression.

"Hey... Sorry that I took so long. I went to gather supplies. Mission was a success." He sighed in relief as he approached you.

"Mauga, I'm glad your awake bud." Baptiste sighs in relief and smiles at Mauga. Mauga returned the gesture before looking back at you.

He still has that huge grin plastered across his features while his eyes darted towards yours. "You're crazy out there Mauga. Do you really think that you can defeat the enemies single handedly?" Baptiste says with a chuckle. “You know me Baptiste, I never do things without planning them out.” He grinned, revealing that row of dazzlingly white teeth. “I still don't understand how you've been knocked down so easily. It's hard to believe that you can be beaten like that.” Baptiste gives a half smirk, half frown.

You listen to their conversation, and you try to make sense of it. Mauga laughs at the situation, as if it's all so obvious. "C'mon, Baptiste, we have bigger problems than me right now. The mission is a success because we finally found the enemy camp. But it was a close call, and we needed your medical expertise to treat the wounded," Mauga explains to Baptiste while looking directly into his eyes with a sly smile. "I carried your massive ass in this camp with support of your weight alone. You ought to be pleased to have a subordinate with such skill." Baptiste smirks. He was referring to you. Mauga laughs at his friend's criticism, displaying his amusement at the circumstances.

"So yeah. It was pretty rough, but we managed to secure the objective! Isn't that great news?"

It's not really a surprise to you.

Mauga does tend to put himself in danger, especially when he's in an unfamiliar place.

This guy is completely reckless, which is why you can't believe that he managed to survive so many battles without falling apart or breaking down.

"Your a loose-canon, but I hope ended well..." you say calmly, hoping that you sound convincing enough.

"I can assure that I have the highest respect and admiration for your abilities as a medic. I would never doubt your skills, even if I hadn't personally experience how skilled you are in dealing with wounds." Mauga comments, he sounds sincere as ever.

Baptiste grins again. "That's a big ego of yours, my friend. You should consider giving a few compliments to the people who did more than you."

"I would love to, my friend, but there's nothing wrong with being modest about our accomplishments."

"Alright," Baptiste said, sounding annoyed.

--------

After several hours, days, months of treating your patients at base. You cannot help but wonder seeing Mauga quite often, whether that is purely because of duty or something else. Although it is difficult to tell what he's thinking, there are moments where you notice the way that he is constantly staring at you. Like he's trying to figure out something about you:

studying your appearance, facial expressions, mannerisms. Sometimes he gets lost in his thoughts, sometimes he appears to be lost in his own world, occasionally, you could catch him smirking knowingly, or even smiling to himself. These small gestures usually only occur during times when it's with you with him. Sometimes, the man is just too cheerful, or too energetic in general.

You could hardly handle the stress of handling all these patients in the infirmary on your own. You're starting to miss having Baptiste around to keep him occupied while you go through patients. You sighed loudly not until Mauga appears behind you

You found him with wounds on his chest and torso. You turn to look at him, "What happened?"

"Nothing serious..." He grins, showing his sharpened teeth.

"Just a minor injury, eh?" You raise an eyebrow at the mercenary, crossing your arms over your chest. Mauga simply shrugs as he sits on a table.

There was another period of silence between you two, and the atmosphere seemed to tense up considerably. This time, it's you who breaks the silence. "I'm sorry that you got injured. I don't know how I should react seeing someone else getting hurt so casually. You could have died out there. And that's not the worst thing that can happen," you said sarcastically and sternly.

He chuckles. "Oh really? Tell me more." He leans closer to your face, gazing deeply into your eyes. "Ah. So that's how it is."

You glare at him angrily, but he ignores you as you continue working. "Are you seriously going to mock me for worrying about you?"

"Not at all," he replied, with a hint of sarcasm. "But there is one thing that concerns me."

"What? You're going to insult me too, aren't you?" Mauga laughs while Y/N tends his injury.

The felt of your touch sends shivers throughout his entire body. He tries hard to suppress the sudden urge to grab her hand and hold on tightly. It's becoming harder to control these urges though. He shakes his head rapidly as he pulls away from you. He looks at you with narrowed eyes. "I'm not mocking you, you know?"

Your gaze flicks briefly to his. "Hm."

There was a short silence between you two, until you began to clean a cut on one of his legs. You noticed his gaze follow every movement of your fingers. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"I'd prefer that you didn't ask questions so frequently, Teuila."

"Teuila?" You face him. "You know, I never asked you of this... But why do you call me that?" He lets out a deep chuckle and replies. "Because you look like Teuila. It fits well, doesn't it?" He flashes you a warm smile before turning his head away again.

You shrugged of his answer, continuing your work without saying anything further, although you were extremely curious. "Teuila... What does that word mean?" There's a brief moment of silence in between the two of you once you finished cleaning up the blood staining his leg. A faint smile plays across his lips again. "I thought you were better than that."

"And you think that you're better than me?"

"Yeah," he replies smugly.

"Then... You've obviously underestimated me, don't you?" You give him a challenging smirk. He returns the smile with a smirk of his own, but he then turns serious again. His eyes narrow. "Let me enlighten you. That name means 'flower'. Do you understand what kind of flower it means?"

You gave him a blank stare. He continues to smirk, waiting for you to understand his meaning. Eventually, you sigh, putting your hands on your hips. "Do I look like I care to know?" You scoff, rolling your eyes lightly.

Mauga laughs. "Well, I guess it doesn't matter what you think of it..."

There was silence between you two for a few seconds, and you looked away with furrowed brows.

You finish patching up the mercenary, placing some bandages around him and securing them securely. "Now that I finished helping you, you're dismissed." You professionaly said after you made sure that everything was covered properly. Mauga laughs at this. "Really? Now? Just like that?" He asks mockingly.

"Yes Mauga, I don't have any other duties besides tending to your wounds. I've been doing that for quite some time now," you responded coldly.

Mauga raises an eyebrow at this. "You know, if you start beginning to care about those wounds, you might find yourself losing them. If you want me to leave your clinic quickly, then you'll have to earn my trust first, which requires some work."

You sigh heavily. Of course Mauga will insist on making things difficult for you. "I am no doctor Mauga, I cannot cure your injuries." You sarcasticly said.

"Oh I know that. But you're still willing to take the risk." He chuckled.

"You wouldn't had to waste precious time coming here in order to talk shit."

Mauga laughs at you again, grinning like a cat that ate the canary. "I wouldn't waste too much time coming here either, but I also wouldn't be able to enjoy it quite as much because you'll be gone by then," he says confidently. "Besides, you're not exactly known for your patience." You roll your eyes, turning back to the table in front of you.

"You know I've always wondered what it feels like to be your patient," Mauga mused. "To be the one receiving the attention of the most skilled medic in your battalion."

"You must be joking," you replied, you know what he meant, not wanting to think that you would ever become his patient.

"No. You know me... " He grins. You groaned. "Don't' make such assumptions, we don't know each other all that well yet."

"Yet..."

You glared at him as he laughed. "Whatever. It seems like there's no stopping you, is there? We haven't even officially met yet, and already you're acting as if you have a good relationship with me." You sighed exasperatedly, massaging the area of your forehead in irritation.

"Listen, Mauga. My job is simple, I care for my patients and treat them well. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Oh yeah? Well, maybe I'm different," he said cockily.

"How? Are you not afraid of dying?"

"No... No I'm not... I've done so much more reckless things than death." His expression suddenly shifted to an emotionless one. For a moment, it felt almost as if he wasn't looking at you anymore. Then he chuckled softly, giving you a playful wink. "But I'm no saint."

"It must be hard to admit being human." You shook your head slightly.

"Sometimes." His grin returned to his features.

You couldn't help but stare directly into his eyes for a little longer, taking in how dark they actually are.

Mauga shows a huge plastered face. His still wearing his dumb smile.

You blinked at him.

He blinked back.

You rolled your eyes. "Stop smiling so much." He continued to laugh, as you turned away from him again. Mauga stood up and stretched lazily, "I have something to attend to, I'll be seeing you later," Mauga teasingly said as he made his way towards the door. He opens it, but he glances back.

A small smirk forms on his lips.

You watch him disappear outside the door, closing it behind him with a click. Once the door closes you let out a heavy sigh, resting your back against the wall behind you. Your heart is racing a mile, a minute, both at the prospect of having finally been alone with Mauga again, and the strange feeling within you after you spent several hours alone with him.

This feeling...

It's definitely not normal.

End of part 1

Part 2- ???

#mauga #maugaloa malosi #mauga overwatch #overwatch mauga #overwatch #mauga x reader #ow mauga #mauga ho'okano #overwatch x reader

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faiiryteethh · 2 months

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Trigger Warning: Rare Illness/Health Issues [wasn't sure if this need a tw but these topics make some ppl uncomfy so i wanted to be considerate anyway💜]

so a lot of ppl have been asking me why i don't post pics anymore or why i have barely been on social media compared to how i used to be. and the reason is i've been having severe health issues for a very long time. i can't even remember the last time i went more than a month without feeling nauseous, or actually throwing up, or just having headaches and stomach pain that are so bad i can barely tolerate them.

i've known for a while that i have gastritis, but my mom & my bf convinced me to go to a new doctor for a second opinion. after months & months of pure agony and feeling exhausted and sick to the point where i have no energy, i finally know why. i went to a specialist and discovered i have a rare illness called CVS (Cyclic vomiting syndrome). and i also am lactose intolerant which was amplifying my symptoms because i eat dairy products constantly.

i am going to be starting treatment for it and i really hope it improves my life and my ability to function because i am so tired of "living" like this. just existing has been exhausting and painful. i literally haven't been able to accomplish any of the goals i have because i can't go more than a few days without feeling horrible.

i already feel useless because i'm autistic and i have bipolar 1 and i'm waiting on disability payments to come through because i am unable to work with my disabilities. so my bf has been working and doing his best to take care of me and our kids. i just feel so horrible and guilty all the time. and i genuinely didn't know why i feel sick 24/7. all i want is to feel like myself again. and to do all the things i miss doing. i feel like i'm trapped by this illness.

i'm grateful to have answers and know what i'm dealing with finally. but after suffering like this almost every single day for so long its so hard to feel hopeful for the future at this point. i'm literally in tears as i type this. its just been really bad. i never do my makeup anymore or feel good about myself. i can barely move sometimes because the pain in my stomach is so bad or i get pain in my throat from vomiting for hours at a time, and then i get MORE pain from dry heaving due to not being able to hold down any food. and then i get random migraines and headaches that last all day as a result of all of that. its taking a huge toll on my body and my mental health. my depression gets worse during the winter season so when this started getting really bad it just made my mental health a million times worse. its literal hell.

but yeah thats why i haven't been online. real life is hard enough and i haven't been motivated to post because of the hell i'm going through or a lot of the time i physically CAN'T make content. but i'm going to keep trying. i'm going to do every fucking thing my doctors tell me to do because im so fed up with suffering. i promise that i will make content again and post the things i create and other stuff i used to post about before i stopped being able to function. as soon as i start to feel semi normal or at least well enough to do daily activities and complete even small goals, i will post about it. i'll keep u guys updated.

i appreciate every single person who follows me and my content, and all the ppl who keep checking up on me and wondering where the fuck i went. i love you guys so much💜 and i'm so sorry to all the ppl who haven't heard from me. if i can gain at least a little bit of my physical strength and health back, i will be so happy. i also am trying to get vitamins prescribed to me because im severely lacking nutrients but they are so expensive and i can't afford them out of pocket until i get my disability money. i'm also anemic and have to start taking iron supplements again. i'm just a giant ball of health issues😭 its actually ridiculous how bad my health has been. but i'm a mom and for that reason i will never stop trying. i will do whatever it takes to get better. i don't think my health could get much worse than it is currently. hopefully i didn't just jinx myself by saying that😭

sorry for the super long explanation, i just have sooo many messages in my inbox and questions that you guys send me that i haven't answered. i don't want to leave u in the dark. the connections i've made on this silly little blog mean the world to me. and everything i've been going through has been so hard to explain. but since i recently got a REAL answer as to why i'm suffering so much, i felt it was a good time to let you guys know what is going on with me. like i said, when i am able to feel somewhat normal again i will post consistently and re-open my shop too! it sucks so bad having a passion for creating but being too sick to even get out of bed other than to get sick in the bathroom. i've been to the emergency room more times this month than i have in the last 4 years. if i can overcome this awfulness i will not take it for granted. i will work harder than i ever have to create and share it with the world. but for now i just have to sit back and do whatever my doctors tell me to do and hope to god that it helps me 😞

#kh

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yb-cringe · 4 months

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i think 4halo have been churned time and time again and i dont think there needs to be a discussion on how much they mean to each other in either a platonic or romantic sense

but i think my one lasting despair about them is that we never actually had bad explain why he was doing what he was doing when the kids disappeared

the vultures the self harm the suicidal ideation the fact that he knew all the harm he was doing to his friends by becoming the worst version of himself that he hated

he was hurting because he was doing it for the eggs but also because he was doing it for Forever. for a lot of his friends but specifically him. he was doing it because he promised he’d make them pay for what they did to him. to all of them.

and to an extent i think forever knew bad was hurting and sad and was trying to do his best to improve that and he really did make a change by switching bad’s script from showing how much everyone loved him but forever never got to see how deep those scars went, never got to know how much of an impact he had on bad. on his actions.

tl;dr — its easy for qbad, i think, to hurt himself and become worse for those he loves i think he slips into it like well made clothes. i think its hard as hell for him to try and drag himself back and he did that for his kids and he did that for forever and ill always be a little sad he didnt get to tell him that

#qsmp liveblogging #qsmp #tw self harm #tw sui ideation

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fr0gc4t · 5 months

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a ramble/confession, and some non-dualism tips

if u seem to already consciously know that ur god AND also think in limiting beliefs, ur not alone. i do it too. it’s way more common than u think.

sometimes we understand a concept and think it’s true, but our egos don’t think in the way that would actually comply with that concept, and that stops us from fully shifting into belief and freeing ourselves from ego. “belief” and “knowing” aren’t always the same thing.

prime example: YOU knowing that ur “desires” r already urs, and then ur ego switching the process completely and being like “so where is it?”. we all know that happens to a lot of ppl in the loa/non-dualism community. the ego is tricky bc its nature is to try and intimidate us. then we slip back into ego-based thinking. happened to me, and is still happening atm. and also i wanna remind ppl that, like healing, awakening to ur true self is often not linear. and that’s totally ok as long as u don’t give up. i was pretty much almost fully realized but then i let my ego get to me again and since then i’ve been trying to get back into that state but just haven’t succeeded at changing my thoughts/improving my self-concept (adhd is making it very difficult).

look. ik it’s kinda weird to have someone post a ramble abt FALTERING at living non-dualism. most of the time, we talk abt the opposite to remind ourselves if our power. but i think it’s important to be open and vulnerable when ur struggling, especially when other ppl could learn from ur struggle.

like i said. not getting i right the first time is OK AND NORMAL. ik ppl say “changing ur self-concept is effortless” but LET’S BE REAL FOR A SEC: that’s not true for everyone, especially neurodivergent/mentally ill ppl, and ppl with intrusive thoughts (i’m all of those, btw), bc our egos r EXTRA spicy.

awakening to ur true self as the god of ur reality is healing, and healing is HARD. in this case, since whatever we are aware of is true, it doesn’t rly have to be, but when u have inner demons, MY GOODNESS IS THIS SHIT DIFFICULT (but still sooo worth it, i promise u).

so good for u if it’s not difficult. really, i’m happy for u. i just also want to bring to light my situation, which is: hearing ppl say “changing ur self-concept is effortless!!” just made it harder to change mine.

I AM NOT TRYING TO SAY ANYONE IS SAYING THESE THINGS MALICIOUSLY. I’M LITERALLY SO HAPPY AND PROUD OF U OMG. i just think that the non-dualism community should be a little more vulnerable, bc FAILING IS NORMAL WHEN TRYING TO CHANGE UR MINDSET, ESPECIALLY FOR PPL LEARNING HOW TO MANAGE NEURODIVERGENCE, MENTALL ILLNESS, TRAUMA, INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS, DEPRESSION, ANXIETY ETC.

AND THAT IS TOTALLY OKAY!!!

i see ppl say things like “i don’t want any limiting beliefs near this page!!!” when limiting beliefs and learning to overcome them r a normal part of this process and should not be shunned, and should rather be met with compassion and understanding. AND SOME PPL DO MEET IT WITH THAT!!! but there r also many who don’t. i understand not wanting to hear ppl’s limiting beliefs in some situations, but not being open to hearing them at all just creates more stigma around being vulnerable abt faltering in this journey and needing some further encouragement or advice. positivity is only good until it becomes toxic positivity. (AGAIN, NOT POINTING FINGERS AT ANY ONE PERSON. I’M TALKING ABT ALL OF US, INCLUDING ME)

my adhd makes it so hard to stick to a new habit long enough to get used to it. and as a result, i have faltered a bit. okay, maybe a little more than a bit. AND THAT IS OKAY. THAT IS NORMAL. THAT IS SOMETHING WE NEED TO TALK ABT MORE.

maybe these stuggles r an “illusion,” but that doesn’t mean we should pretend like we don’t have them. we don’t always have to put on a happy face and go onto tumblr and vaunt to try and fight the intrusive thoughts. if u know anything abt the psychology of intrusive thoughts, FIGHTING THEM DOES NO GOOD. we should accept them and let them be there, knowing that THEY CAN’T HURT US.

even then, they might stress us out. and that’s when we might need to vent. and venting is NOT a bad thing. sometimes it’s the only way i can cool off. but instead of venting into ppl’s inboxes, we should make our own posts, like this one, in constructive language (i suggest writing the angry/anxious stuff first in ur notes, then, when ur calm, rewriting it in a constructive sense and posting it on tumblr). we need more openness to sharing our struggles. mental health struggles r sooo real (even if our human minds r illusions), and we need to make the non-dualism/loa community a safe place to talk abt those struggles and see if anyone can relate, or maybe used to relate and has adivice.

being gentle and open to this conversation is just as important as affirming that we have what we desire. bc, well, if u have the struggle i have, or something similar, u know how difficult it is. hell, i even thought abt going back to loa and trying to get into the void instead of keeping on my non-dualism path bc i thought it would be easier(???) and now i realize that that doesn’t even make sense bc both of these things require improving ur self-concept, which is what i was trying to avoid.

THAT IS LITERALLY AN EXAMPLE OF THE THING I EXPLAINED AT THE BEGINNING OF THIS POST (which was supposed to be the main topic… i rambled a lot. oops.). i knew that i had to change my self-concept no matter what, yet i thought that getting into the void wouldn’t require that. sometimes the thoughts just don’t add up. and it’s bc of the ego! i actually only became aware of that now actually.

THE EGO JUST WANTS TO CONFUSE U AND TAKE CONTROL OF U. i’m just still letting mine have power over me… but now that i’m aware of it, i can try again, this time with a different perspective.

faltering is normal. not being able to change ur thoughts the first time is normal. having this kind of weird cognitive dissonance is NORMAL. THE IMPORTANT THING IS TO NOT GIVE UP, AND SUPPORT EACH OTHER.

you failed to change ur mindset and ended up spiraling? needing a break from trying to change it? i don’t blame u, this stuff is hard. it’s okay tho! what u need to do now (or when ur ready) is: FORGIVE URSELF AND TRY AGAIN. and don’t be afraid to start the conversation of “can anyone relate to this?” or whatever helps u.

we can do this. we can change our thoughts, even with any obstacles we may face, bc we are stronger than our egos. WE’RE GOD, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!! we can do ANYTHING.

the first step is knowing that faltering is okay. next is realizing that our knowledge of who we are doesn’t always match our thoughts, and that that is the nature of our brains. the next step is forgiving ourselves and moving on.

hopefully this rant wasn’t too jumbled or confusing, i kinda just wrote it here without any planning lolz. i need to figure out a format.

and i hope some of u could relate to my struggle. be as open as u want in the replies. i will not judge. if u need to make ur own little rant, it’s fine by me.

also, sorry for being gone for a while. i don’t use tumblr very much anymore. i’m slowly falling away from all apps except pinterest, amazon and depop 😅 but dw, i won’t let myself fall too far. i luv tumblr and the non-dualism and loa community has changed my life and opened my mind in so many ways. even if i haven’t succeeded at getting all my desires quite yet, it’s okay. i will succeed. maybe not right away, but i will. and so will u. (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

#this was a loooong post tysm for making it to the end!!#u have earned a cupcake for making it this far 🧁#archive ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹#non dualism #non duality #nonduality #nondualism #advaita vedanta #advaita #manifesting #manifestation #law of consciousness

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peoplesgraves · 2 years

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Experimental love part 2

Yandere X Alien Reader

Log: day 1

I’ve started this log to track a first not only for me but possibly, for my entire species. So far I’ve found no mention of any other keeping a human like I have agreed to. The human in question is incompatible with a return to earth and to ensure this never happens again I will keep him here and utilize him with later test subjects. The human calls himself Axel and this is how he’ll be referred to in all further logs.

Log: day 5

I told Axel I was planning to take a new subject last night but that will have to be put on hold. Axel has come down with some kind of illness and has been expelling his contents all day. I’m taking care of him to the best of my ability but he doesn’t seem to be improving yet. I forgot how fragile humans are and I wonder if this whole thing may be a mistake. I will find the reason for this strange illness and try to ensure it doesn’t happen in the future.

Log: day 8

Finally I was able to find a new subject today. He may prove to be an even better specimen then axel although axel seems hostile. I wonder if being in such an enclosed space with another male of his species is the cause. Still though, axel has proven to be a valuable asset. He follows orders and seems to know what I’m going to ask of him before I do. It’s much easier to complete my work when most of my contact with the subject is purely clinical.

Log: day 13

Humans have a belief that the number 13 is unlucky and I believe I may now share that belief. This morning Axel came to me panicked and told me my newest subject was deceased. It seems he snuck a dangerous substance from my lap yesterday and consumed it during the night. He was my first subject to die in my care and it was harder then I thought it’d be. Axel was a great source of comfort and though I expected him to be upset at the death of one of his own, he seemed more concerned for me then anything.

Log: Day 30

I haven’t had time to update this log in quite awhile. There’s been an epidemic on the ship lately, any human I bring ends up dying no matter how careful I am. I worry that I will have to abandon my research and return home, Axel seems pleased by this. I know I agreed to keep Axel in my care and I intend to keep my promise.

Log: Day 31

I thought that whatever had infected my research had narrowly missed Axel but truthfully I failed to protect him from the very beginning. He was not the latest victim of the darkness that led to the death of so many humans but it’s originator. There is something wicked and alien in him, worse then I have seen in all my years throughout the cosmos. Still though he is my responsibility, I fear I made him like this and it’s my duty to ensure he doesn’t hurt anyone else. I will continue to update this log for as long as I’m able.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere monster #yandere fantasy #yandere mythical creature #yandere x you

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an-anonimous-writer · 2 years

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Grocery shopping

GIF credit not mine

Summary: Your relationship with Peter isn't the best right now, maybe if Peter cooks you dinner it could improve or maybe not.

TASM! Peter Parker x GN! Reader (not use of any pronouns)

Warnings: implied sex, angst, cheating, crying, mentions of food. (Let me know if I forgot anything)

Words: 1764

A/N: Well, I'm back after a big hiatus, school was stressing me out (since it was my last year of high school) and I decided to enjoy summer and spending time on myself. I also had quite a writer block and the only thing that came out was a TASM! Peter Parker fic, so here it is. As always, let me know if I made any grammar or/and spelling mistakes for English is not my first language and any constructive criticism will be well receive. So with no further do… Hope you enjoy it!

mcu masterlist

Earbuds in, you were walking down the streets of New York, it was so cold that it felt as if you were in the middle of December, even though it was almost April. With your bare hands you pulled your coat tighter to protect yourself from the winter-like cold weather.

That afternoon your boyfriend, Peter, asked you if you could go and buy some groceries, since the pantry was almost empty and he decided to be a chef for you and cook that one meal he showed you a few months ago and you obliged, now cursing him for the coldness your body felt.

The store was just a few streets away from your apartment. You prayed not to run into anyone, because you knew they would love to catch up with you, even in this invernal cold. But thankfully, you arrived at the shop without any encounters. There you took the shopping list Peter crafted with the ingredients for his recipe and with a few more basic things, such as milk.

You knew why he was doing it. These last few weeks hadn’t been the best for your relationship, college and his vigilante work made him skip some important dates, like your second year anniversary. Both of you decided to go out for dinner, to the fancy restaurant right besides Aunt May’s house. You arrived dressed beautifully, a blue dress that accentuated your eyes and your free hair that fell like a cascade.

Peter made sure he didn’t have to work as Spider-Man that night, moving and rescheduling, but nevertheless, you were stood up. Three hours sitting in that chair made you think you weren’t a priority to him and you could feel as you shrinked in that cahir, making yourself feel tiny.

The waiter, that was serving you, came by the table for the 15th time asking if you had decided yet, you smiled at him with a tight-lipped smile and shook your head, standing up and giving him the restaurant’s menu. One hour later you received a text from Peter:

im srry 11:56 pm

smthg came up :(( 11:56 pm

ill make it up 2 u, promise x 12:03 am

You felt disappointed in him, you both planned the night so he didn’t have to dress up as Spider-Man and had to watch over the city, but as always, he had to, not even for a night, an important one (at least for you), he could not leave it alone.

For the next weeks all that could be heard in your apartment was shouting, screaming and reproaches thrown to one and other. They were filled with venom. Each word thrown was like a dagger in your hearts, it hurt you.

“You know damn well, I can’t leave the city for an anniversary!” he would shout. “As if it was so important, we will celebrate plenty of them! Ugh, God!”

But today, he decided to compensate for it, he wanted you to feel fancy and special, as you should have felt on your anniversary, or so you thought as you picked up some tomatoes he asked for. Peter always regretted standing you up because he knew, deep down, you would never stand him up, not even for an emergency and he knew that always hurt you.

You were on the queue revising everything you were about to buy when you realized you didn’t put cheese on the cart, so, quickly, you stepped out of the line and went to the dairy aisle, cursing yourself because you only wanted to arrive home, eat that delicious dinner Peter was about to make and get drunk on some cheap wine. But the universe had other plans, apparently.

Suddenly, you heard your name being called from down the aisle, you turned your head and saw one of Peter’s friends. It was Gwen, a beautiful, not to say gorgeous girl. He was Peter’s ex, but they decided to remain friends since they knew each other since preschool. Gwen was one of the only people who also knew about Peter's secret identity, so of course you always went to her for advice or just to feel heard. She was so very nice and you could always count on her, even if you weren’t as close as she was with Peter.

‘‘Oh my God!’’ she started approaching you so she could hug you. ‘‘How are you? It’s been ages since we’ve last seen each other!’’

Her embraces were comforting and safe ans that's how you fell between her arms as you reciprocated her hug.

‘‘Yeah, it’s been’’ you said. ‘‘How have you been?’’

‘‘Well, I’m fine, but you must’ve been feeling horrible these past months’’ she responded feeling sorry for you, a knowing look on her face.

You were confused, you’ve been perfectly fine, with your highs and lows, but like every other person and of course Peter and yours relationship wasn't having its best time, but you wouldn’t complain, nor say you were feeling horrible because of it.

‘‘I know about you and Peter, so don’t worry, you don’t have to act all confused’’ she assured you, squeezing your forearm, as if she wanted to comfort you. You were even more confused now.

‘‘What about Peter and I?’’ you looked at her, now with your arms crossed. Everything was fine. Were there any rumors? ‘‘We are fine’’ you added with a nervous laugh.

Gwen was the one with the puzzled look on her face now. She removed her hand off your forearm and smile just as confused as you.

‘‘I thought you guys broke up, you know since he…’’ she laugh, she then stopped, her smile dropped and gasped aa she realized. ‘‘Oh no! I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Peter is an awful idiot.’’

You placed the cheese on the cart and let out a nervous chuckle followed by a trembling what, why? Gwen only gave you a tight hug and whispered:

‘‘I’m here for you, it is all going to pass, ok?’’

You remove yourself from Gwen embrace and went to the line, thoufhts running wild all over your brain.

You just wanted to go home and ask Peter about it. Why did his friend think you broke up? You didn’t want to jump to conclusions and think bad about Peter, but what if he was... No, he would never do that, right?

You paid for your things and went speed walking, almost running, down the street to your apartment. You opened the door and sprinted up the stairs with two bags full of food and miscellaneous stuff on them. You needed an explanation, why did his friends think you guys were over?

In your head, you imagine yourself as a jealous partner. Sick by the idea of it, you tried not to second guess yourself, but your gut knew what was going on, you juat wanted to deny it.

As you arrived at your door, your heart was pounding against your chest at such speed you could feel it coming put your chest. One hand on the knob and the other one turning the keys, while the plastics bag was hanging on your forearms. You were deciding whether or not to open the door, whatever the trith was, you know that it behind that door your heart would ache.

You finally enter your shared apartment with your boyfriend Peter. He was in the kitchen preparing the pots he was going to use. You welcome yourself by saying ‘Hi’, Peter didn’t see you at first.

When you arrived ar the kitchen, Peter went and gave you a peck, instead of butterflies, you felt sick in your stomach, how would you even think so lowly of him?

‘‘You are freezing, my my’’ he broke the silence and you were so relieved he was the one to do it. He put his hands on either side of you and start running them up and down to make you warmer.

Maybe Gwen was wrong, maybe he told her about one of their fights and so she thought the broke up.

‘‘Yeah, well, it is as if we were in winter and not at the end of March’’ you laughed it off. You left the bags on the counter and put off your coat, hanging it. ‘‘You know, I’ve run into Gwen at the store’’ you added, while you were in the hall.

He only hummed picking up the ingredients he needed. you took a deep breath as you reentered the kitchen. Peter looked so handsome while cooking under the dim light of the room. You didn’t want to do this, but your brain reminded you that you deserved an explanation.

‘‘She told me, she thought we broke up’’ you said, chuckling nervously. Peter looked up to you immediately, he had guilt written over his features. ‘‘She started, like, oh you must be feeling horrible, y’know Peter, you, relationship over, blah, blah, blah’’ you added, also chuckling.

Peter directed his gaze to the pots as swiftly as he looked up at you before. You tried to calm yourself, a small smile appeared on your face, maybe your suppositions were wrong, how could you not trust him? He had heart of gold.

‘‘I obviously denied it all, because we are great, with some rough weeks and some fighting, but, we are great, no?’’ you asked, pushing Peter to confess something you expected him to, but he only shook his head while gulping. ‘‘She also apologized and told me she was there for me, which was so weird by the way.’’

Peter pretended he didn’t listen to that. His jaw was clenched, however you didn’t notice it and you started talking again.

‘‘I was so dumb because it really seemed as if you would cheat on me!’’ you then laughed, loud, so loud you swore the neighbors could hear you. ‘‘But you would never cheat on me, right?’’

Silence.

The only thing that was making some sound was the boiling water, but nothing more. There was silence.

You fear for the worst. The truth you didn’t even want to believe. Your heart sank. No, this couldn’t be happening. Not your golden heart boy.

‘‘Right?’’ your voice was cracked this time, the smile you had dissapering from your face. Peter looked at you, eyes read and tears whealing in his eyes.

You couldn’t take it anymore as tears began to flow down your cheeks and anger mixed with sadness was controlling and consuming your body.

Peter opened his mouth, he needed to explain himself, but you had enough.

‘‘Baby, I-’’

‘‘Don’t baby me, Peter. Don’t you even dare to look me in the eye!’’ you shouted, interrupting his explanation. ‘‘How could you even…? WHAT DID I DO? WAS I NOT WORTH IT?’’

Peter was shaking his head, nervously, while tears streamed down his face, you were more than worth it, you were so much better for him. He was trying to form an explanation, but he could only form sobs. He was now regretting everything he did that led up to this moment. Meeting that girl, taking her to bed, continueto hook up with her… His heart broke as you were breaking down in front of him and he couldn’t do anything, because he was the one to fuck it up.

‘‘Was it her?’’ you sobbed, trying to even out your breath and looking up tearing your gaze off the floor.

Peter looked at you confused.

‘‘Was it her what came up in our anniversary?’’ you asked again, praying to whoever was up there it wasn’t, that it was Spider-Man.

He just nodded. Your whole world collapsed. So it was true, you weren’t important, not to him at least. You nodded, as well, containing your cries by biting your lips, he didn’t deserve seeing you like this. He didn’t deserve you, not at all.

‘‘For how long? I just want to know that’’ you lied, you wanted to know it all. You wanted to know the juiciest details, how many times he had fucked her or how many times he had lied to you and his friends. You deserved to know it all, but if you stayed in the same room for more than five minutes you would burst into tears.

“Three months before our anniversary’’ he admitted. It had been going on for over five months now. ‘‘But, I… I never loved her, not like I love you, baby, please. You have to believe me.’’ he added, crying.

That was the final straw.

‘‘If you would have loved me, you would never look out for another girl’’ you sentenced as you put on your coat and left the apartment. Peter followed you right behind, but stopped once you were out on the hallway. If he loved you he would go right behind you, running up to you. He never did.

The crude reality settling down. You wanted to shout, cry your heart out, and curse Peter Parker's name, but that’s the thing about you, you wouldn’t do it because you couldn’t. Even after the revelation, you still love him, even when you were this hurt, even if he kissed her right in front of you, even if he disappears from your life, you will forever love him. You gave him your heart, he took it, played with it, kept it and left you out there in the cold street of New York City crying.

Earbuds in, you were walking down the streets of New York, this time crying for a boy with a heart of gold for others, just not for you.

#tasm! spider man x reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #tams! peter parker x you #peter parker #andrew garfield! peter parker #andrew garfield! spiderman x reader #andrew garfield! peter parker x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader angst #peter parker fluff #tasm! peter parker fluff x reader #tasm! peter parker smut #tasm! peter parker fluff #tasm! peter parker smut x reader #peter parker smut

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rainbowmoonstonestories · 9 months

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Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 8

Chapters: 8/? Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix 2022, minor content from the Comics) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F!Reader Characters: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus, Lucienne, Matthew the Raven, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Hob Gadling, Death, Rose Walker, The Corinthian, other minor Sandman characters, Original Characters. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching, very long chapters to read. Summary: You always dreamed of becoming a successful Fashion Designer, sharing your creations with the world and making your father proud. But with him being very ill and so many costs solely weighting on your shoulders, things didn’t go as planned and you had to take a different path instead. An interesting offer led you to the elder Alex Burgess and you were hired as a new housemaid for a very good pay. However, your kindness and outstanding empathy convinced the man to give you an additional task for a doubled compensation; gaining the trust of Dream Of the Endless, held captive into the basement for over a century. Despite the shock of finding such an ethereal entity stripped of all his clothes and contained into a confined space, you had to accept for the sake of your father. But the more you got to speak to the mysterious anthropomorphic personification who didn’t utter a single word, the more you were lost into his eyes that, conversely, seemed to contain the entire universe. A deep connection formed between the two of you, separated only by a thick layer of glass.

Little did you know, what started like a simple housemaid job was about to change your life forever.

Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics

Warning: This chapter includes smut! Minors please dni.

For this update, I did some writing research to make my text better and richer, in order to avoid most repetition. Hopefully you will see me improve more and more with the future chapters.

Tagging: @number-0-iz. If anyone else wants to be tagged in the next updates, let me know! I noticed that Tumblr sometimes won't let me tag everyone for some unknown reason, so if it comes to that I can at least send you a message to notify you.

Ko-Fi (If you ever wish to support my work)

And just like that, you found out that your best friend was immortal.

Chapter 8

After your first full night in the Dreaming, instead of meeting Morpheus on the beach again, you discovered places from your childhood memories you had entirely forgotten about and hadn’t even crossed your mind while you were awake. Moreover, you experienced peculiar events that either reminded you of your teenage years, or conveyed something too abstract for you to comprehend. You assumed this is how dreams normally operate, given that everything transpired beyond your control.

Seven whole days passed and you had not seen him once. You were aware that restoring his realm posed many complications, and that with the substantial number of humans who were falling asleep all over the globe, you weren't expecting any exclusive treatment from the otherwordly ruler of the Dream realm. Nonetheless, Morpheus had promised to see you again ‘soon’, and you didn’t quite understand what this implied for an immortal being with an eternity to spare. You needed to stop dwelling on it as it was making you anxious and sick.

In order to divert your attention, you proceeded in browsing new job vacancies on the internet, applying to corporations with an appropriate visual profile that matched your style. You were constantly checking your phone (which was fortunate enough to remain pristine after that tumble on the sidewalk), refreshing your email inbox. At the end of the day, you felt demoralized, albeit slightly amused, observing the amount of irritating spam populating your account.

You couldn't have won the lottery since you never bought a single ticket for it, and you weren't interested in claiming fake Amazon gift cards or accepting a one million bitcoin donation on your non-existent digital bank. You also couldn’t care less about the man who seemed to be enjoying a yellow banana up his butt, Nancy Pelosi being absolutely disgusted with whatever you might have done, and a certain Kim Smitherd offering millions of dollars to make you as rich as 'Bull Gates' while your aunt was dying.

You had to give these scammers credit for their entertaining content, at least.

On the bright side, your father was appearing to be progressively recuperating, gaining weight at a rapid pace and finally spending a lot more time outside of the house. He had struggled with his health for two years straight, simultaneously as Morpheus had endured a century of seclusion, solitude and mental affliction without ever turning his back on humanity. They both inspired you to relentlessly chase after your ambitions, even if it meant reaching out to each and every company in town that could provide you an opportunity.

Even though your heart sank every time you awakened devoid of sighting the King of Dreams, you carried on with all you wanted to complete, working hard from day to late evening to create some momentum in your stagnant routine.

Ten days after that sensual night with the Endless, your nerves were about to get the best of you. It was an emotion that you recalled all too well from your previous romances, and you truly hoped to not go through all that again. Since Morpheus didn't have a phone, you couldn't text nor call the Endless to invite him out for a drink. Matthew had paid you brief visits throughout that period, but the only information he disclosed was regarding how hectic Morpheus was with the reconstructions of his domain.

Feeling mentally fatigued and in need of some respite, you endevoavored to recuparate at Regent's Park, which occured to be your favorite area in London. In your childhood, your father frequently had you visit that place almost every weekend to relax and partake in a long walk amidst the captivating greenery and view the diverse species of birds that resided there. It was one of those locations that never changed, providing you with a pleasant sensation of nostalgia whenever you stopped by.

Arriving at the curved bridge over the lake, you set your arms upon the wooden railing and peacefully gazed at the ducks floating in the water, carried along by the calm flow. The discrepancy between the sounds of the natural world and the buoyant pulse of the streets was precisely what you needed, ideal for any mood you might be in.

In that particular instant, the rustling of leaves in the mild wind was consoling and harmonious. You were so lost in it that you failed to notice the woman proping herself on the guardrail beside you, observing you with a kind smile and waiting for you to acknowledge her presence. When you didn't, engrossed in your thoughts and fixated on the rippling patterns od the water underneath, she decided to initiate a conversation with a polite greeting.

“Hello.”

With a tilt of your head, you came face-to-face with a pair of dark, incredibly gentle eyes. The brown-skinned woman at your side left you struck with her voluminous black curls, so soft-looking that it almost made you want to touch them. The positivity that she exuded was immediately infectious - a rare quality in people that you couldn’t find often.

"Uhm… hello…?”

As she moved closer to where you were standing, her upper arm brushed against yours. Though the stranger's touch was in some way pleasant, it left you at a loss for words and with a bewildered look on your face. You searched your mind for any memories of her but couldn't find any.

Your brow wrinkled. "I apologize, but... have we met?"

The woman let out a brief chuckle, shaking her head. "No, but you definitely know my brother.”

You stared in confusion. "Who might he be?"

She didn't reply but kept gazing at you with the same friendly smile. Your eyes discended to the necklace she was wearing, an Ankh pendant attached to a long chain that sat comfortably on her chest.

You had read about the Ankh and what it meant in symbolism and in Egyptian culture; also known as "the key of life", it was generally used by ancient deities to represent their power and reviving human souls in the afterlife.

A symbol of life and death.

"There is Death, my sister. She is the one who greets the souls of the departed and guides them on their journey to The Sunless Lands.”

And then it hit you.

"You... you are her. Dream’s sister. You are Death."

Her smile broadened even more at your realization. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Y/N.”

Aftr the initial astonishment, you began to sweat profusely. What was the reason that Death herself had come to a random spot in London in order to meet a human who was lost in thought?

You were unable to contain it and said, "Please tell me you're not here to take my soul.”

She laughed. "Of course not. I just want to talk.”

Although her response relieved you, you recognized that Death was one of the Endless, a being of tremendous power and responsibility. What sort of communication was she intending to have with a mere mortal like yourself?

Unless…

The question came naturally, and the dread attached to it was quite weighty. "Did something happen to Morpheus? Is he okay??”

Seeing your concern, Death clasped your hand on the edge of the railing in a reassuring way. "He’s fine, this is not why I came here.”

You tried to make sense of it but nothing came to light. Death took both of your hands in hers, her eyes glistened as her bright expression shifted into something hollow. Her touch was gentle, but you could feel the strength in her fingers and the safety they transmitted.

Finally, she continued. "Thank you. For taking care of my little brother when I wasn't there,” she said, her voice low and slightly hoarse.

Your throat became dry, and you were unable to respond appropriately. Instead of addressing what she told you, you questioned her.

"Did you know that he was captured?"

Somehow, you quickly became accustomed to her touch, and when she removed her hands, you mentally protested at the sudden chill that enveloped your skin for the loss of contact, despite the warm temperatures outside.

She closed her eyes, confirming with a nod of her head.

“Why didn’t you help him?”

Death let out a deep sigh, turning her melancholic gaze towards the lake in front of the bridge. "The Endless are bound to certain rules that prohibit them from interfering with each other's domains. We exist in service to the universe and the living things within it, with our own tasks and realms to oversee.”

You were aware that you should have clamped your tongue and refrained from speaking so animatedly in the presence of a formidable entity, but the immense disappointment felt within your body urged you to give it expression.

"So, you couldn't step away from your duties even for five minutes? Maybe he was hoping that you or your siblings would come to his aid, to show that you cared and let him know he wasn't alone and forgotten by his own family. What's the point of rules when someone you care about is suffering like that?”

You were filled with regret almost instantly after speaking so fervently, despite the fact that you might not have fully grasped the situation. Nevertheless, her next statement only amplified your displeasure.

"Dream’s pride would have been damaged in ways that none of us would be able to repair."

"His well-being is more important than his pride."

The atmosphere became dense and solemn. You were so fervently protective of Morpheus that it clouded your judgment. Your knowledge of their existence in the universe was restricted, so how could you presume to teach them a lesson on what ought to be done based on your assesment?

You let out a frustrated sigh. "I apologize. I understand that it's not my place to judge. As an Endless, you certainly know better than I ever will from my humble human perspective. I just can’t see how leaving Dream to his fate and ego would make up for what he went through.”

Her smile once again beamed with warmth and joy, illuminating her entire face. "My brother means a great deal to you," she said.

Your cheeks immediately turned red at her statement, and she seemed to find your reaction amusing as she giggled under her breath. Without asking further about your feelings towards her brother, she nodded her head, gesturing for you to follow her. "Come on, let's take a walk.”

She slipped her hands into the pockets of her black jeans. Her equally dark tank top showcased her perfectly toned arms, with visible muscles lining them. Although she was generally slim, she was fit and a bit taller than you. Everything she did appeared human and ordinary, but the strength you sensed in her was enough to make anyone cower in fear.

Still, she had such a sweet approach that you could hardly believe she was the literal embodiment of a Reaper. Humanity had often portrayed these figures in inaccurate ways, prioritizing creativity over accuracy.

As you walked alongside her, the sound of children's laughter filled the park. Your feet moved in perfect sync with hers, while her imposing and confident strides in leather boots made your own sneakers seem small and insecure in comparison.

"You see," she explained, "my brother needed to learn a lesson about the consequences of his actions and how they affect others. He had to confront his captors and overcome the situation on his own to grow into a better ruler of the Dreaming.”

You swallowed your bitterness. "So you're saying that this was supposed to happen? That he brought it upon himself and therefore deserved a century of emotional torment?”

A gust of wind blew through her hair, but she didn't even flinch when a curly lock fell in front of her eye. She continued to look ahead as she spoke. "Dream could have summoned me. He was given a choice, and he didn't take it.”

This made you think. If Morpheus truly had the chance to be released early, why did he choose to stay in captivity for all those years? He remained trapped in that cage without a word of complaint, despite the pain consuming him inside, all because of that one missed opportunity.

Was it really just pride that kept him there?

However, you understood all too well what it meant to feel helpless and always afraid of burdening those you cared about. As a mere mortal, you struggled to accept that you could hardly succeed on your own, so you couldn't blame Morpheus for holding onto his ego. Being powerless and unable to escape his predicament must have been unbearable for a creature like him. All Dream wanted was a straightforward offer from Death, which explained the disappointment you had seen plastered onto his face.

Sometimes, all we need is a caring gesture from someone we love, even when our answer is no.

"Would you have set him free if he had asked?”

She seemed to consider your question carefully, but ultimately chose not to answer. "You didn't know him before. You only see him for who he has become as a result of that incident.”

You gradually decreased the pace of your strides, and when you came to a standstilll, she turned and regarded you with a questioning expression.

"They killed his raven and stripped him of everything he had. The ruby, the helm, even his clothes were taken and thrown away. I don't know who Dream of the Endless was a century ago, but how is any of this justified?" you asked.

Her smile grew even wider at your passionate response, and it seemed as though the sun itself had become brighter because of it.

How ironic.

"If he hadn't taken my place that day, we wouldn't be having this conversation. If you could change the course of events, would you rather not have met Dream?”

You stood in silence, fighting to gather the correct response to give and conceding that she was in fact correct. If those particular conditions had not led you to cross paths with Morpheus, you probably wouldn’t have met the person who was bringing so much love to your existence. It pained you to realize that you would willingly choose to stay in the present reality, regardless of the implications, even if you were given the choice to shift to a separate timeline where he was not a component of your existence.

“This is so messed up,” you muttered.

Death softly squeezed your shoulders in a gesture of comfort, her eyes glistening in the sunlight. She already knew what her brother’s answer would be, and so she left him behind when he needed her the most. Their family was more complicated than you could imagine, with regulations and dynamics that were foreign to you and the world you inhabited. It was unfair to criticize their lack of intervention when you didn’t really know the depths of their connection. The only thing you could do was adjust to their nature based on what it was.

You took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be indiscreet."

Her expression softened. "You were not. You're sweet."

Instead of harboring resentment for something that nobody could control, you realized that there was a very important reason for you to appreciate her.

"You didn't take my father when I thought I was about to lose him. I should be thanking you, not cast judgement," you said.

You could see the kindness and empathy in her eyes, with no resentment present. "It wasn't his time. It won't be for a while," she reassured you.

Hearing those words from her put your heart at ease, as you still had that nagging worry lingering in the back of your mind.

Guided by your emotions yet again, you were unable to resist the impulse and surprised the Endless in front of you with a shy and hesitant embrace. But as soon as your hands pressed against her back, you no longer had a single afterthought.

Death's scent was distinct from Dream's but equally pleasant and grounding. Her hair and skin emanated a mix of jasmine flowers, smoldering swathes of woody incense, pink lotus, and saffron. She surrounded you with her enigmatic veil of mystery, but at the same time, her sweet and caring nature was warm and fulfilling.

The woman hummed in appreciation against your hair, combing through it as a caring older sister would.

"Am I signing my death sentence with this?" You asked her.

She laughed heartily at your question. "It doesn't work that way. And this actually feels nice.”

She didn't even attempt to extricate herself from your arms. She allowed you to keep her close, as if she required that form of affection more than you did.

You reckoned that Dream's role was tremendously difficult, being entrusted with preserving the delicate balance between humanity and his realm. Death's job was undoubtedly arduous too, guiding human souls to what Morpheus called The Sunless Lands. What would have occured if she was imprisoned instead? What would a world without people able to die be like?

There was something in the way she stroked your hair and rubbed your back. Everyone assumed that the Grim Reaper was a merciless being, marching through existense with a fearsome scythe and a black shroud covering its head. They didn’t know how elegant, uplifting, affectionate and empathetic the real entity was.

When you let go of her, the expression on her face was gracious and accomplished. As the pair of you resumed your stroll under the trees, Death draped her arm around your shoulder like an old friend.

You were uncertain whether she wanted to meet the woman who showed great interest in her brother or merely intended to confirm that you were trustworthy. Regardless of her reasoning, you discerned that your unexpected encounter with her was having a beneficial effect on you, despite its rough beginning.

You continued walking side by side as if it were the most normal thing in the world, until a sudden scream made you both freeze in your tracks. It reverberated throughout the park like a strangled cry, gathering a multitude of people in the vicinity. A girl was calling out a name, pleading and choking in desperation.

Death's face became somber as she looked at the scene. She assessed it in silence, but somehow, she didn't require any explanation for what was going on.

"I have to go. I can't miss this one.”

The wind gusted once more, enveloping you in a rotation of leaves that rose from the ground. She turned towards you for the last time, and with a tender caress of your elbow that was equally affectionate and apologetic, she bid you farewell.

"I'm glad I could meet you, Y/N."

You remained still, nodding, and feeling your heart pump more forcefully. "I’m glad too. Can you tell me your name?"

In spite of anticipating denial of your request, she sent off another smile and moved backward a few paces without taking her eyes off you. “You can call me Teleute, it you desire.”

Teleute. The name which had been used to portray Grandmother Death in the ancient Greek culture. Everything made sense in the framework of history and mythology.

She turned on her heels, walking away with her hands in her pockets. Within a brief moment of diversion to pay attention to the crowd that continued to increase in size, you completely lost sight of Teleute. She had disappeared in the blink of an eye, as if she was never there. Ethereal like the swiftest of avians, the most graceful angel.

You were spurred by a combination of curiosity and uneasiness to move forward. The girl was still crying and calling out for someone who was lying motionless in her lap. As you approached, you worked through the crowd of people who were standing there in shock. You spotted an unmoving man with his eyes half-open, his body stiff like a lifeless dummy, and his complexion gradually becoming ash-grey. His partner shook him repeatedly, searching for a vital sign.

"Robert! Please wake up, please!”

The pain in her tone was excruciating. causing your stomach to tighten and shudder with each utterance of the man’s name. A friend was trying to take her away, pulling her by the arms in a futile attempt to let her leave the body behind.

The man she loved was gone forever.

“No, no! He can’t! We were supposed to get married next week!”

“Linda, please… get away from him, there’s nothing you can do...”

“No!!!”

The ambulance arrived with a loud siren, and three paramedics ran to the body with a stretcher and defibrillator ready in their hands. You heard the sound of fluttering wings at your side, but when you pivoted to look at the origin, nothing was there. All you could see was the group of onlookers surrounding the pair and the expanse of green behind them.

The defibrillator wasn't working. The man's chest lifted and expanded with each electric impulse, but you didn't need to stay to see the outcome because you already knew it; Death had just taken him and he couldn’t come back.

Fighting to overcome the lump caught in your throat, you left the crowd and walked as far away as you could from that tragedy. Watery drops emerged at the corners of your eyes and dripped down, one hand pressed against your mouth to contain the sobs that erupted within you.

Two days later, you had agreed to spend some time with Hob, sharing the occurences that took place in your lives while working on your separate undertakings. The sun’s rays were shining gloriously in the azure sky, showering the idyllic views with a gentle beam. You could feel the breeze tousling your hair as you made your way to the modern tavern, the overgrown grass tickling the skin of your legs. The summer dress and half-sleeved viscose shirt that you selected for the occasion were soft and comfortable on you.

Upon entering the New Inn, your eyes quickly searched for Hob's usual spot. You saw your friend already seated at the table, clad in a stylish brown jacket over a white t-shirt. After greeting the enthusiastic waitress, you walked over to join him.

As you made your way past the other customers, you didn't initially notice that Hob wasn't alone. Someone was sitting across from him, and they appeared to be having an engaging conversation that caused him to display a genuine smile. Seeing Hob in such a relaxed and carefree state was a rare sight; he was frequently on edge, eager to reconcile with that old friend of his.

You immediatly wondered if the individual in front of Hob was actually him.

The man was wearing a knee-length black coat better suited for winter, and had dark hair that looked eerily familiar even from behind. The similarity was so striking that you decelerated as you moved closer to the table with your heart racing faster, incapable of making a sound and announce your arrival.

You could recognize those short, adorable, untended strands anywhere. You tried to get a better look at his face, but he remained turned away from you until you reached a distance that allowed you to be spotted.

Seeing you, Hob's expression immediately brightened. "Y/N!" he exclaimed. "Do you remember that old friend I've been telling you about? Let me introduce him to you.”

Hearing your name, the other man instantly swivelled towards you, meeting your gaze with his beautiful blue eyes. A flood of feelings engulfed you and it couldn’t be kept at bay as you looked at Morpheus’ features, struck by his exceptional appearence. He radiated an aura that could have made anyone fall to their knees in admiration.

Your face flared red with the notion that you had looked at him for too long. "It's you," you said, your tone coming off as more relieved than you intended.

Hearing your words, Hob looked back and forth between the two of you in disbelief. "Wait, do you two know each other?”

You finally diverted your attention back to your friend, giving him an affermative nod. "We do, actually."

"Bloody hell, what a small world!"

When the calmness returned to you, a strong epiphany surfaced. Morpheus was imprisoned in 1916, and according to Hob, they eventually experienced an abrupt separation, whereupon the Endless didn’t show up to their designated meetings any longer. This meant that Hob was substantially older than he had previously claimed, owing to the fact that Morpheus remained locked in that cage for more than a hundred years.

How many more astonishing truths were you about to discover? Hob had several explainations to give, but you decided to leave them for another time if you wished to keep the atmosphere untouched.

You weren't the only one making discoveries that day. Hob didn’t fail to perceive the way you looked at Morpheus, and he smugly raised an eyebrow with a devilish grin that held a lot of secret promises for later.

Afterward, Hob gestured for you to join them, pointing at an empty chair nearby.

While you were strongly enticed to snuggle with Morpheus, you chose to give them some required space to have a heart-to-heart talk on their own without your interference.

A little disappointed, but still compassionate and pleased for their reconciliation, you kindly declined his invitation with a smile. "It's all right, you two must have a lot to talk about. I’ll just sit over there and work."

You gestured towards an empty table next to the window, but Hob's expression quickly changed to one of guilt for the unforeseen change of plans.

"Are you sure? I invited you out, it's not fair to make you sit on your own, is it," he said, looking at you with concern.

You gave yet another nod. "Positive."

You looked at Moprheus who didn’t utter a single sentence, but you detected his subtle smile while he gazed at you from his seat. You gave his shoulder a light squeeze as a demonstration of affection, though maintaining secrecy. Your fingertips gently glided along his sleeve as you stepped back.

You got settled in, requested a cup of tea and retrieved your tools to initiate your work alone. Your attendance was not necessary during that time as Hob and Morpheus had a lot of things to catch up on. However, being close to the one you adored and had been waiting for, yet remaining temporarily out of reach, made it challenging for you to keep your focus.

You inhaled deeply, plugged in your laptop and let your hand drift unrestricted across the pages of your sketchbook.

A few minutes later, you were completely immersed in your own realm of creativity.

"I saw that," Hob spoke, his countenance exuding approval as he regarded Morpheus.

The Endless decided to feign ignorance. "What did you see?" he asked.

"The glim in your eyes. The way you looked at her says it all, my friend. You like her!"

Morpheus became rigid, reclining back in his seat and directing his eyes downward, maintaining silence.

"Who would have thought that after all this time I've known you, I would finally see you in love?"

In the past, Dream of The Endless would have denied Hob's assertion with unruffled temper yet seething rage, storming out of the inn to digest his private humiliation. This time, Morpheus involuntarily shifted his gaze towards you, silently admitting to the truth. The radiance of the sun illuminated your profile, and he couldn't refrain from taking note of it due to its ethereal appearance.

Hob's smile was kind. "She's a great woman, you know. Seriously, the most incredible human being I have encountered in this century. She works tirelessly to achieve her goals, and she's both intelligent and compassionate. You won't easily find someone like her in the next era.”

Although he was still in the process of comprehending your nature, to Morpheus, that wasn't difficult to believe

"Don't break her heart," Hob suddenly warned, catching him off guard and immediately drawing his attention back to his serious face.

"I know you're not a bad guy, and surely you don't need me to tell you what to do. But I care about that girl over there like family, and she's been through enough hardship to deal with more complications.”

While Morpheus was aware that Hob could decipher him with ease, he continued to keep the same calm demeanor in order to conceal his sentiments. He was not inclined to let them be made obvious or to exhibit his softer side, even to his friend.

Hob’s voice was filled with determination. "I would go to hell and back just to ensure she can be happy."

With a minor lift of his eyebrow and the edge of his lips, Morpheus replied, "That is quite admirable.”

Hob took another sip of his beer, his shoulders raising and lowering in a quick shrug. "Judging by what she told me about this 'mysterious guy she's been seeing lately,' it's clear that she really cares about you. Honestly, I believe I've never seen her care so much about any other lad before. They were all a bunch of idiots, but still.”

His eyes remained nonchalant and blank, but the usual slight bob of Morpheus's Adam’s apple definitely gave his feelings away. "So she did talk about me, then?" he asked, sounding flat but curious.

"Aye, but she was very reserved about it. I didn't get any clue that it was you, of all people, " Hob straightened from the comfortable wall sofa and directed his look towards you. He showed a smile of great pride at the sight of your hand gliding effortlessly across the page of your sketchbook without a single interruption.

Morpheus felt the urge to watch you from a distance, examining your actions and admiring the absolutely adorable way with which you seemed to bite your lower lip while tracing your pencil along the page.

The Endless was eagerly looking forward to meeting you in your dreams that night, yearning for the occasion after his extended absence to fully restore his kingdom. Morpheus wasn't expecting to meet you in the Waking World before the scheduled time, let alone find out that you and his old friend would share a special bond as well.

Eventually, the conversation with Hob took a different turn, yet Morpheus found his mind constantly drifting back to you.

You lost track of time again as you drew. It could have been an hour - maybe even two.

You observed that Morpheus was still deep in conversation with your best friend, seemingly frozen in the same position as when you first spotted him. Despite his composed and dignified demeanor, his discomfort around humans was evident from the way he watched people warily out of the corner of his eye and stiffened his shoulders when others came too close.

It was understandable, given that those who were supposed to admire him had instead ensnared him and exploited his possessions.

You closed your sketchbook and began scrolling through your emails, deleting any messages that didn't seem important without even opening them. Doing so, you almost missed an email from the CEO of a company you had reached out to in hopes of finding a job. Despite them not currently accepting new applicants, the man took the time to send you a polite response, wishing you good fortune for the future. Though it wasn't exactly what you were hoping to see, the kind and encouraging words still managed to brighten your mood.

Hob rose from the couch, stretching his neck before turning to say a few last words to Morpheus. As he approached you, a beaming smile lit up his face, though he was clearly remorseful about not being able to spend more time with you. Nevertheless, he seemed content and at ease, a state you hadn't seen him in for some time. With everything now resolved between him and his friend, the last thing you wanted was for him to apologize for something that you didn’t perceive as a lack of attention at all.

You knew there was a long conversation and explanation waiting for the two of you, but for the moment, you simply watched as he strode out of the pub and vanished into the trees beyond. You couldn't help but wonder which century he had originally come from, but given his extensive knowledge of history, it was impossible to pinpoint his specific era of birth.

Reflecting on it, you were feeling a bit daunted by the sheer number of changes and developments he had witnessed in the world, as well as deeply saddened by the loved ones he had lost and left behind. It now made sense why he had always been reticent to discuss his family history, clearly it was a delicate topic for him.

You shut down your laptop and put away your belongings. When you looked up, you noticed that Morpheus was silently and intently watching you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. When he came closer to your table, you realized that his attire was reminiscent of what he wore in the Dreaming - all black and enigmatic - but tailored to fit the style of the Waking World. The fabric was structured and gave him a modern look, while still retaining his signature mysterious edge.

“Hello.”

His low voice was like a vibration, a resonant melody deliciously flowing through your bloodstream. When you stood up and got inches away from his face, you had to keep yourself grounded and resist the urge to kiss him on the lips in front of the other customers (and the waitress, who was already glancing at you with piqued curiosity).

The immediate attraction was undeniable, stirring something in you that was definitely not appropriate for public display.

Hey you," you replied with a smile. "It's good to see you." "I've missed you," you were tempted to say, but the words caught in your throat and you couldn't bring yourself to say them.

"Are you busy at the moment? Do you need to leave?”

He shook his head almost imperceptibly. "I can stay, for now," he replied.

Your heart fluttered with excitement, producing a series of backflips in your chest. "Would you like to take a walk with me then?” You asked, trying to sound casual.

Your request may have been simple, but it seemed to work in your favor.

"With pleasure.”

The sensation you felt was spine-chilling, causing your skin to prickle and making your hair stand on end. The genuine and happy smile that you gave him caused the corners of your mouth to pull up painfully, but you allowed your emotions to show without restraint. Walking on air, you paid for your tea and bounced out of the inn.

You sensed Morpheus following silently behind you, his cryptic expression giving him an air of caution. He stood tall and firm, his eyes narrowing occasionally as he observed his surroundings. The warmth of the sun and the gentle breeze enveloped you, while the distant sound of car horns and the chatter of passersby filled the air.

As you stepped away from the entrance to let a few more people inside, his hand lightly brushed against your upper back for support. The contact left a tingling sensation across your covered skin the moment he withdrew it. Clearing your throat, you tried to shift your focus to a new topic, hoping to distract yourself from how much you longed for more of his touch.

Thankfully, you had just the right thing to break the tension. "So, Hob Gadling? I had no idea that you were the old friend he was waiting for,” you remarked.

Morpheus looked at you, raising an eyebrow. “Nor did I know that the two of you were close.”

"He's like a brother to me, really," you explained. "But I never would have guessed that he was, like, super bicentenarian or something.”

"We first met in 1389," Morpheus revealed.

And so you stopped in your tracks, unable to wrap your head around what he just told you. "Wait what? You're kidding, right?"

"I assure you, I am not.”

Your mind boggle at the thought. "But that was over 600 years ago!"

Morpheus seemed amused by your astonishment. "You look quite shocked,” he observed.

"I'm practically a baby compared to him," you admitted. "I can't even imagine what it would be like to live for so long.”

Morpheus studied you thoughtfully as you walked together, considering what he was allowed to reveal. "I must admit, Hob Gadling has proven to be remarkably persistent.”

“Persistent? You mean he actually had a choice?”

Morpheus nodded. “He did. And, he still does.”

When you turned the corner of the street, Morpheus slowed his already leisurely pace and glanced at the building to your right. It was a large complex that had been standing for centuries, refurbished into a more modern-looking bar around 1989. Throughout all the changes it went through, its original name, White Horse, and location remained perfectly intact.

The tavern had been visited by many notable figures, including William Shakespeare himself. It was one of those timeless landmarks steeped in history and wonder that had been passed down through the generations until it was eventually sold. Now, it looked more like a disquieting construction site, with all the windows covered in scribbles and the old, decaying roof under repair for an indefinite amount of time.

According to Hob, the New Inn had been founded as a replacement for those who had fought to keep the old tavern running.

"It all started here," Morpheus said.

You looked at the dilapidated structure, trying to imagine what it may have looked like in medieval times, but found it difficult to picture Hob in anything other than his usual fashionable attire (or Dream with a different hairstyle).

"How?" you asked curiously.

"I was intrigued by his...experience," Morpheus replied. "I wanted to know how long a mortal creature could crave such a long life, convinced that he would beg for death within a century.”

You were captivated, a grin spreading across your face. "And?”

"Even after 300 years, when I found him in misery and starving for food, he still claimed to have much to live for."

You burst into a loud, genuine, joyful laugh that echoed throughout the area. Holding onto his coat, you doubled over, unable to contain your exuberant reaction. Your belly was hurting and you could barely breathe as your laughter didn't cease.

"What?" He asked you, furrowing his brows in confusion.

As you tried to recover from your guffaw, you literally convulsed with tears forming at the corner of your eyes. When you finally calmed down, you pressed your forehead against his chest, subconsciously clinging to him.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it," you said, wiping a tear from your eye. "That just sounds like him. It's hilarious!”

You continued to shake like a bowlful of jelly, breathing in and out a few times to regain your composure.

"If you find it amusing, you shall ask him to share more of his adventurous tales with you,” he suggested.

You let out a contented sigh. "I think I will.”

Your eyes met again, and the intensity of his gaze immediately captured your attention. Despite his outward stoicism, his expression seemed more relaxed than it had been at the inn. The mischievous, subtle smile you were becoming accustomed to only confirmed that he was enjoying your spontaneous hilarity.

You looked down at the metallic barricades, where someone had sprayed the words "The New Inn" in red with a long arrow pointing in its direction.

“Hob did it, didn’t he? For you. So that you could find him,” you concluded.

“He did.”

Despite the fact that 133 years had passed since that renowned argument, their connection had survived unscathed, filling you with a sense of comfort and warmth.

"I don't know what your fight was about, but he's been remorseful about it for a long time.”

Morpheus continued to pierce you with his stare, pouting slightly at the recalled memory.

"He cares deeply for you,” you added.

His gaze returned to the building, and his eyes narrowed with an inscrutable, impassive look. He didn't respond right away, simply staring off ahead as a few seconds went by.

"He is a good man, despite what he may or may not say. One who speaks very highly of you."

You were stupefied, tilting your head quizzically. “You… talked about me…? After more than a century apart?”

"I suppose you had a certain influence on him," He answered cryptically.

You offered Morpheus a kind smile. "I doubt that I had any influence on him. You, however, have undoubtedly made him a better person, according to his own words.”

Their friendship had begun as a challenge - a game, if you may - devised to test Hob's endurance as an immortal among humans. A mere curiosity that gradually deepened into something more meaningful. Over time, Morpheus came to regard Hob not just as a subject of study, but as a true friend that he valued despite his usual aloofness.

You found yourself adjusting the collar of his coat, feeling the stout, yet very yielding and plush fabric against your fingers. Once satisfied, you gave the front of his shoulders a gentle pat and wrapped your arm around his, holding him loosely but tenderly.

Morpheus was unruffled, but his unwavering gaze on you made you feel somewhat self-conscious. At one point, he even seemed to anticipate something as he moved his eyes downward until they rested on your lips momentarily.

Although you were in close proximity and a small push from you would have been enough, you decided to respect his reservedness when people started passing by on the street. Therefore, you resumed your trek, leaving the antique tavern behind and reaching the park in the distance.

A great number of individuals of diverse ages were appreciating the weather that day. Elders were stationed on the benches with their eyes shut, couples relaxing on a large sheet for their impromptu picnic, adolescents engaging in football on the grass and children running about in circles.

“Do you see these people? Have you ever appeared in their dreams or interacted with them?” You inquired.

“I do not always interact with dreamers. When they rest, my realm mirrors their waking lives, their wishes or their fears. Only when they seek guidance or require advice, I might grant them my aid,” Morpheus said.

And there you were, walking alongside the King of Dreams, whether it be in the Waking World or the land of dreams. Maybe you did possess a unique consideration from him, after all.

You looked at all the carefree activities in the vastness of the park. "It's strange. I never thought about it, but I now realize that what you Endless do is essential for this world. It seems like nobody is aware of that, or if they are, they don't show you the gratitude that you deserve.”

Morpheus halted along the way, fixating on your eyes anew. When you turned in his direction, your countenance was overflowing with sadness and compassion. "Every person we see right now has a dream that propels them through life. They receive inspiration, ideas, and realizations from you, but they don’t even know that the source of it all is standing right here in front of them.”

“Humans forget in waking hours,” he noted. “It is not my purpose to make them remember me.”

You disagreed, shaking your head. "Even so, this world wouldn't even function without you and the rest of your family. It's incredible how nobody acknowledges what's truly happening behind the scenes.”

Morpheus appeared to give your statement a moment of contemplation. “I am the personification of ideas and concepts that are tied to life. I do not wish for mortals to acknowledge me.”

You pondered his utterances, and the only thing you were capable of doing was to accept his reasoning. You smiled, caressing his chin with the pad of your thumb and forefinger. "Then I hope you at least accept my praise, Dream of the Endless.”

As you pulled back, Morpheus tracked your hand’s movement to understand your actions. He portrayed a grin with a certain trace of self-satisfaction on his face. “Very well.”

You examined him with utter amazement, feeling as if you were standing before a lifelong hero. In a sense, that was indeed the truth.

A group of teenagers assembled in the vicinity, talking and chortling noisily as they advanced. When a young girl walked past Morpheus, you quickly noticed his awkwardness and out-of-placeness amidst such a jolly atmosphere. The girl promptly retreated when she noticed his darkened face, dragging her friend along and whispering to her in concern. Observing her troubled response, Morpheus turned away and stared at the ground.

You proceeded to move forward, slowly bringing your lips to his cheek and delivering a brief, tender, and affectionate peck on it. He exhibited a look of surprise and confusion the moment you broke the kiss, but you maintained your sweet smile in his direction.

“Look,” you gestured, turning your head slightly to check on the two girls.

As if by magic, the pair of youngsters were now grinning at the two of you, giggling with delight and hurrying along with the rest of the bunch. They went from terrified to appreciative in an instant, relishing your sudden display of affection and forgetting the momentary tension they felt.

You clasped his hand and tugged upon it. "It’s interesting how easily our perception can change, isn’t it?”

And thus, Morpheus understood that you had done it exclusively for his sake, in order for him to cease feeling like he would not fit in, like no matter what he did, the humans would consistently be alarmed by his presence.

You felt a sense of contentment and fulfillment, repositioning yourself at his side and walking forward with your hand firmly clasped in his grip, which Morpheus didn’t object to. He permitted you to retain your fingers around his, accompanying you to whichever place you wanted to go.

On the path leading to your apartment building, you disclosed about your interaction with Teleute. You presumed that he was aware of it, but it turned out that his sister had not informed him about that matter in any way. Fortunately, Morpheus didn’t express any sign of dissatisfaction or annoyance in relation to that revelation. Since he had lived close to his family for a span of billions of years, he obviously knew Death well enough to understand her inclinations and motivations.

You definitely had nothing to hide, and he listened to you extolling her mildness and empathetic gestures.

It became obvious to you that she was the one he cherished the most amongst his other siblings. It seemed like they held a particularly strong bond that, regardless of the unfavorable occurences resulting from Roderick Burgess, caused them to continue believing in one another’s loyalty.

Nevertheless, Morpheus was still reluctant to reveal any significant information about his family, so you decided to stop pressing upon the topic and continued walking along the sidewalk.

Eventually, you arrived at your building with an immense sadness growing inside you, knowing that you had to part ways with Morpheus. Your fingers slowly unfastened from his hand, and a chasm formed in the pit of your stomach.

You smiled at him, trying to conceal your increasing disappointment. He didn’t speak, continuing to cast his sharp gaze upon you. He put his hands back into his pockets and awaited for you to say anything.

As you thought to yourself, "Don't go" and "Please stay with me", you desperately wished to spend more time in his company. But given your past mistakes that led your previous partners to consider you overly clingy, you ultimately let those sentiments go.

“Thank you for indulging me,” you said. “I hope I didn’t keep you from your responsibilies for too long.”

“No,” he replied, his voce low and deep. “I owed you as much.”

You frowned. “You don’t owe me anything, Morpheus.”

He attempted to reply, opening his mouth, but quickly closed it, unable to vocalize whatever thought he wanted to share.

When he remained silent, you adjusted the bag on your shoulder and firmly wrapped your hand around the strap. Your mind was in chaos, torn between your emotions and reason, leaving you uncertain about what action to take next. A single kiss couldn’t be the end the world, and it’s not like you’d never done it before. You continued to persuade yourself that it wouldn't be harmful in any conceivable way, but the more you tried to convince yourself, the less you wanted to take the risk.

And so, you permitted yourself to only touch his elbow, giving it a light squeeze. "See you in my dreams?" you asked him.

Morpheus assented with his head. "I will see you in the Dreaming."

You stepped back, turning on your heels and retrieving the keys from your bag. As you flipped open the lock of the main entrance, you glanced back to where he had been standing, but in the blink of an eye, he had vanished, nowhere to be seen in the alleyway before you.

As you made your way from the lobby to the elevator and your dwelling, you scolded yourself repeatedly for missing the opportunity and allowing your past to hinder you once again, despite having declared that it was long gone. You were not supposed to feel afraid of sharing a kiss with the one you loved, especially after spending a night together engaging in deep and passionate lovemaking. In the Dreaming, he was the one who initiated the contact, capturing your lips in that sweet, electrifying kiss that you didn't openly ask for.

Things were different for him in the Waking World, however, whether it was due to the traumatic ordeal he endured or because it was a place in which he felt like he didn’t belong. Morpheus was not a human being; rather, he was an entity of extraordinary might and prominence. Was it really feasible to be yourself beside him without holding back your feelings?

As you shut the door, a heartbroken sigh slipped out of you. You tossed the keys on the tabletop, let your bag slide to the couch, kicked off your high heeled sandals, and stripped off your shirt, only remaining with your sleeveless dress on.

You almost made it to your bedroom in a nervous stride, but suddenly halted. Your mouth fell open, and your eyes widened as soon as you noticed Morpheus standing in the parlor area, watching you with a pair of eager and yearning eyes.

In that fleeting moment, your determination to subdue your fondness for him disintegrated from your consciousness. That glimpse in his eyes was irrefutable; he desired you as ardently as you needed to feel him against you.

No words or spoken affirmations were necessary. He kept looking at you with his hands tucked away in the pockets of his coat, barely blinking as he stood still, waiting for your move with anticipation.

That was the indicator you were looking for. Throwing away all your reservations, you dashed towards him without thinking it over, seizing his face with your hands. You pressed your lips onto his and kissed him, feasting on the taste of his mouth with an intensity that surprised even you. It felt like the only thing that mattered, as if you needed those lips to breathe.

Morpheus instantly moved his hands out of his jacket and took hold of your midriff, pushing his palms against the small of your back as he kissed you with equal passion. His tongue shot forward and encountered yours whilst you lifted your feet to deepen the kiss, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

You pulled away to catch your breath, panting and quivering, but still clinging to him tightly. “You came back,” you whispered.

“I never left.”

You chuckled in delight, once more locking your lips with his.

“You did not ask me to stay,” he noted. “Why? Is it not what you wished?”

Of course he would notice.

Your lower lip sank under the light pressure of your teeth. “It is. I just… I didn’t know how to ask.”

He smiled. “Have no fear, my love. I will not leave your wishes unattended.”

My love…?

Those words caused your heart to leap in your chest, as it was a lovely way of addressing you that nobody had ever used before.

"I don't want you to fulfill my needs at the expense of your own, though,” you stated.

“Do you truly believe that I do not want this just as much?”

“Well no, but-”

“Then allow me to prove it to you.”

You became soft and pliable in his embrace as he kissed you again, enveloping you in a hazy and semi-bewitched state with his delicious fragrance.

Unlike the cologne that your previous partners favored, his scent was a subtle aroma that didn't fill your lungs to the brim, but was just enough to make you feel like you were surrounded by a welcoming oasis.

As you continued your make-out session, you gradually pushed him towards your bedroom. Morpheus silently followed your lead, kissing your neck and moving to your collarbones. Once you arrived at the bed, you sat down in front of him, causing the edge of your dress to slide up and reveal a peek of your thighs. It didn't take long for him to climb onto the mattress and press against you, positioning himself between your legs. His cold fingertips caressed the line of your leg, starting from the area around the knee and ending at the upper region of your thigh. It wriggled under the cotton material of the skirt to hoist it higher, gripping your skin and making you jolt.

Normally, you would take your time, letting your sensations grow with his touches, kisses, and pleasurable foreplay. But this time, your desire for him was so strong that you couldn't wait any longer. You immediately brought your hands to the button of his pants, eager to get to the point.

But before you could undo it, Morpheus caught your wrist and pulled both of your hands up beside your head. His grip was firm as he held you down on the mattress. Your faces were very close, and you could feel his breath tickling your mouth as he gazed down at you with a fiery look.

You made a small effort to keep your breathing in control.

“What is it that you want?” He uttered softly, his tongue just barely touching your lips. “Speak clearly, and I shall satisfy your needs.”

Your heart pounded rapidly, and your mind grew clouded with a steadily escalating craving.

“Morpheus… please….I beg of you…” you entreated with a quavering voice, your request filled with an air of desperation and longing.

“No.”

“I-”

“You must say it out loud.”

You let out a small mewl when you felt his hips push forward, the hardness in his pants already evident and wanting.

"Morpheus…" you pleaded.

"Say it," he demanded.

“You!”

“Oh?”

You gasped hard, your chest rising and falling rapidly beneath him as he held you in place, pressing himself against your body.

“I want you. I need you, please.”

A faint smirk appeared at the corners of his lips, conveying a small amount of triumph. “You need me? How?”

What a mischievous, teasing, and absolutely gorgeous creature.

‘Two can play at this game’.

You smiled, raising one of your legs and looping it around his waist. You pulled him even closer against your core, much like a python coiling around its prey.

You were pleased to hear the low, throaty groan that escaped him.

"Do you seriously need me to spell it out?" you teased. “You know what I want, Dream Lord.”

His sister had described him as the most prideful member of their family. According to Teleute, he was so proud that he wouldn't have even accepted her help if she had offered it at the right time. And yet, your challenging attitude was clearly amusing him to a noticeable extent.

"I will give you that, and more," he promised, his voice filled with lust and eagerness.

He removed his hands from your wrists, trailing them along your arms and closing around your breasts. Even through the fabric of your bra and dress, you could feel the way he squeezed them, causing your back to arch.

It was so little and yet too much, your inner walls clenching irrepressibly. You couldn't stop looking at the clear protuberance in his trousers, urging you to be set free. So you tried again, rapidly reaching for the button to unfasten and the zipper to pull down. A moment later, he was grasping your buttocks from under the dress and angling you exactly how he wanted, pulling his erection out and hooking his index finger under your panties. Slowly, as if he was unwrapping the most awaited gift of time, he moved your damp undergarment aside and revealed your glistening entrance. He swallowed hard at the sight.

He pushed himself inside of you in one swift motion. The entry was rough, but he managed to slide in without any resistance, making you gasp and moan as his tip hit the perfect spot inside you. You wrapped your limbs around him as he delivered strong thrusts with his impetuous pelvis, moving in and out and increasing his tempo. He fixated his hungry eyes on your face, driven by his growing need to make you come undone.

Even though the both of you were practically fully clothed, you found the scene absurdly arousing. That coat looked absolutely wonderful on him, and you loved the way his shirt rubbed against your clit, creating the perfect friction you needed to let loose. Morpheus emitted deep, rich grunts as your walls tightly enveloped his length, providing a heightened sensation of suction and pressure. Your room was filled with the sounds of sex, as skin met skin and your bodies moved together.

Just like the first time, you latched onto the back of his hair with your hands, grasping a sizeable portion of his strands without pulling, but maintaining a stable position. You continued to whine and sigh, matching his rhythm and responding to the kisses he delivered.

"The sounds you make are marvelous," he expressed, a small grin emerging at the corners of his lips.

“What can I say?” you replied with labored breaths, still reeling from the impact of the intimate and heated encounter. “You are just that good.”

With so many centuries of experience, he must have had countless lovers in the past. This made you feel a bit envious and possessive.

Morpheus was relentless, sliding in and out of you with incredible stamina. You could feel your orgasm approaching, ready to ignite a powerful firework. As he felt you tightening around him, he slowed his pace. His fingers left your thigh and moved directly to your clit, brushing it with gentle and light strokes.

You gasped at the pleasure it caused, throwing your head back as he continued to circle the small tip with his index and middle fingers. He wasn't even applying that much pressure, but the sweet stimulation combined with his girth meeting your G-spot was absolute heaven, even if it was torturous.

You were so close now. A part of you wanted the experience to carry on for hours, but the urge to feel that exquisite sensation was becoming impossible to control and withstand.

"Please, harder," you muttered.

Morpheus complied with your request, delivering precisely what you were asking him to provide. His hips pushed forward, then almost fully out, and in again to the base. As you adjusted to his thrusts, you felt your muscles tensing from the effort involved, but you didn't plan to stop. You consistently met him halfway, tightly gripping his hair with one hand and his back with the other.

His fingers maintained their position on your clit, pinching and massaging it deliciously. Your moans grew louder, and you chanted his name like a prayer.

You came with a convulsing jerk of your hips, pulsing around him as his erratic movements urged him to reach completion and follow you to your high. Your orgasm was earth-shattering, draining you all of your strenght as it coursed throughout your entire body like a massive explosion. Your legs were trembling and tingling, while your chest and cheeks turned into a scarlet and blazing mess from the waves of heat.

It only took a couple more thrusts for him to reach his peak, groaning and stiffening as he released his essence into your depths.

It was hot, grounding, and fulfilling. It was something significant that went beyond the mere physical satisfaction. To you, it was a way to fortify the connection you had established with Morpheus, the outcome of the deep affection that was continuously expanding inside your being.

You took shallow and short breaths, taking a moment to appreciate his expression above you through your hazy state. He was throughly satisfied, gently pressing his lips against yours to prolong the moment of bliss.

As your nails scratched the back of his head, gently intertwining with his short strands, you let out a contented sigh. Your legs weakened at his sides as he pulled out, and your underwear snapped back into place.

“I must return to the Dreaming,” he voiced softly, barely above a whisper.

You signaled your acknowledgment with a slight nod of your head. “Sorry for keeping you here.”

“I was not kept here, my love. I chose to stay,” he clarified, carrying an affectionate tone towards you and an air of assurance.

You genuinely beamed, grasping his head with your hands once more and delivering a quick yet vehement peck on his mouth.

"Thank you for staying, then. And for healing my scars. Oh, and for the shell too,” you told him, emphasizing your words with a look of gentleness and gratitude.

Morpheus’ expression depicted complacency. “The Dreaming will always be there to welcome you, just as I will.”

You breathed out in a relaxed fashion. “Why are you so good to me?”

“Why should I not?”

When you attempted to steer clear from falling too deep into your usual overthinking, your smile slowly started to diminish.

“For a number of reasons,” you stated, the self-depreciating words falling out of your lips with an air of bitterness and pessimism. “Maybe one day you’ll get tired of me and leave me. I’m not deserving of having you in my life.”

In an instant, his face also changed, brows knitting together as he looked down at you. “Y/N, what-”

"Don’t mind me," you interjected. "My emotions tend to get all over the place. I didn't mean to ruin the mood.”

“You did not.”

You felt uncertain concerning the underlying cause for your sudden outburst. Perhaps it was the fear of not being enough for any committed kind of relationship. Or maybe you were scared of the notion of seeing your happiness destroyed again, despite your intuition telling you to proceed forth without hesitation.

Unlike before.

A faint chuckle escaped your throat as you tilted your head upward and kissed him one more time, maintaining an innocent and reserved touch. Your eyes were gleaming with a mixture of sorrow and joy, but you refused to be overtaken by your negative thoughts.

With a playful tap, you pushed his chest lightly. "You should go now, or I won't be able to keep my hands off of you.”

Morpheus grasped your arm and hauled you up with him, moving both of you away from the mattress and bringing you close.

The moment you stood on your feet, you could feel a few drops of his essence dripping down between your legs.

"That does sound quite tempting," he said. "But I cannot stay longer.”

“It’s all right,” you vocalized, a touch of sweetness creeping up in your voice. “See you soon?”

“Yes.”

He sealed that promise by applying a delicate and loving peck to your forehead. His hand slid off of yours and brushed against your skin, lingering on your fingertips before drawing away. You stepped back slightly, watching him carefully as he retrieved the pouch of sand from his coat. You waited patiently, your eyes fixed on his every move.

“Please say hi to Matthew for me.”

He nodded to your words, the golden powder immediatly encasing him, embracing and providing him the much needed comfort and warmth that he was accustomed to.

You stared at the sand slowly fading away, vanishing from your sight and leaving only some particles that sparkled around the room.

The sun had set below the horizon, and night had fallen over London. Ella Corbyn tapped her fingernails in an anxious manner on the top of her desk as she re-read the message on her phone, her eyes staring at the screen as she tried to process the unwelcome development.

She walked through the halls of her workplace, passing by the empty offices and stopping in front of the CEO's door. She knocked softly and entered, greeting her husband with a tired expression and a sense of exhaustion.

Oliver Corbyn remained at his workstation, taking a quick glance away from his monitor to check on his wife.

“Darling, are you okay?”

Ella sighed deeply, shook her head, and looked at him with concern all over her face. 'We have a problem.”

Oliver took off his spectacles and placed them carefully on the table. He then moved his chair back and said, 'I don't like the sound of that.”

As she considered the best way to reveal such disappointing news, Ella decided to simply reveal the truth as it was.

“It’s about Isaac. He left.”

Oliver reflected on his wife's words, blinking a couple of times. “What do you mean he left? I thought he was sick.”

Ella started scratching the back of her hand and a red patch began to emerge from the rough contact with her nails.

"Yes, well. It turns out that was just an excuse. He actually sent his resignation to my email an hour ago.”

Oliver's face turned ashen, and he quickly leaned against the edge of his desk for support. “And the reason?”

“Apparently, he decided to move abroad and live with his family in the US.”

He cursed under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose in disbelief and frustration. “I can’t believe this.”

Ella crossed her arms in front of her chest, adopting a firm stance to refrain from scratching her skin even more. 'What do we do now? We are officially without a fashion designer. We need to find a new one, and soon.'”

“I know.”

“The show is in three months. How are we supposed to make it?”

“We’ll figure it out.”

Ella started to walk back and forth around the office, moving her legs in a repetitive motion. "Gosh, I can't stand this! Isaac was so good. Will we ever be able to replace him?”

Oliver was quiet, spacing out and absentmindly scratching his chin.

“Oliver?”

The man’s gaze widened abruptly. The sudden insight that struck upon him appeared to have a significant impact on his overall perspective.

“Hang on, hang on, hang on,” he muttered, lifting his index finger into the air as he expressed a sense of urgency.

Ella looked puzzled. “What?”

Oliver promptly ran back to his computer, rapidly typing some words on the keyboard and clicking around with the mouse. “Look.”

Ella stepped closer to his position, standing beside her spouse and shifting her emerald eyes down to the monitor.

"A few days ago, we received an application from this woman. Her portfolio was quite impressive, but with Isaac on our team, I thought we were covered. So I politely rejected her this morning.”

As Ella observed the numerous illustrations on the display, her eyes settled on the exceptional detail, accuracy and artistry that was put into every single piece, a style that was rather unique and captivating.

No one else was capable of producing such clean and mesmerizing drawings except one particular person.

“What’s her name?”

Oliver closed the PDF document and went back to the email he retrieved from the archive, going to the bottom where your signature was.

“Y/N Y/LN…? My goodness!”

Oliver was taken aback by the transition of his wife’s demeanor, somewhat amused by the way in which she started to jump up and down and laugh out loud.

“Love? Do you know her?”

Ella raised her hands to the top of her head and gazed at the ceiling while breathing out a sigh of relief, her feelings of worry slowly evaporating as a sense of calmness descended over her.

“We were literally best friends in high school!”

Notes:

• I didn't come up with the full description of Death's scent. Full credits to this site.

• In case you're wondering if the Reader will meet the Corinthian again, the answer is yes. All in due time.

• I was planning to add the revelation about Nada and Morpheus' son in this chapter, but in the end, I just couldn't fit those parts in. The Nada segment will definitely be added in the next update though, while I came up with something interesting regarding the truth about Calliope and Orpheus. There will be some drama and angst because of that, but this is all I can say without making spoilers.

• How many times do we sense something, but our brain and/or heart gets in the way? Sometimes we are confused and emotional, to the point we cannot make sense of what we truly feel anymore. I wanted to portray this aspect with Reader's state of mind.

• The timeframe I set at the start of this chapter is most likely inaccurate. I tried to find some proper information about the amount of days or weeks that pass between the end of episode 5 and the beginning of episode 6, but I couldn't find any. If someone knows, please correct me and I will edit the chapter!

• In my mind, even if Death never told her brother that she met the Reader in person, she most likely mentioned something about their relationship. Initially, I wanted to include that in the chapter as well, but I decided to cut it out to reduce the amount of text. Maybe I'll add a bit of it as a written memory.

• Yep, time to add some original characters into the story! :D Ella will play a very important role in Reader's life.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 9 ->

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#the sandman #the sandman morpheus #dream of the endless #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #smut #the sandman fanfic #story: let your dreams be your wings

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