If you're still taking prompts how about FS+ 34) things you said in your sleep please. Love your writing!
Aww, thank you! Normally this type of prompt would lead to 100% angst coming from me, but instead here’s more fluff than I ever thought possible. Shoutout to my husband for brainstorming with me for this, even though his ideas were terrible. Just truly awful. But it did lead to this haha!
Jemma wakes freezing, goosebumps dotting her skin. Fitz has rolled away from her at some point in the night, taking the blanket with him. She frowns, grabbing a corner and attempting to pull it back. She’s certainly survived much worse sleep deprivation before, but at fifteen weeks pregnant she’s gotten a bit prickly about having her sleep disrupted. It doesn’t help that in about three hours she’ll be sick, like clockwork.
Fitz has the blanket wrapped all around him somehow and her gentle tugging only causes him to twist further away from her. She groans in frustration.
“C’mon, Rosie,” he mutters. Jemma’s mouth drops open as she gapes at her still-sleeping husband. So first he steals all of the blankets, and now he’s dreaming about another woman? She’s going to kill him, she really is. She just needs to think of an appropriate punishment.
She waits for a moment, holding her breath, but he doesn’t say anything else. Suddenly inspired, she leans over until she’s hovering right over him, whispering into his ear in a way that always makes him shiver when he’s awake. “What about Jemma?” she breathes, placing a kiss to his earlobe. “Won’t she find out?”
He shifts, burying his face in the pillow. “No,” he mumbles. “We’ll keep…secret.”
Jemma snaps from annoyed to devastated in half a second. She bursts into tears before she’s even aware of what’s happening, and she hates herself for it. She’s always kept careful control over her emotions, but the pregnancy hormones flooding her system have brought everything to hover just under the surface, ready to push through at the slightest provocation.
Her wracking sobs startle Fitz awake, and he rubs at his eyes groggily in a way she normally finds adorable but which only serves to splinter her heart even more.
“Je-Jemma?” he asks, face lit up with concern. “Jemma, what happened? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?” He stumbles over his questions and the blanket, trying desperately to reach her, but she just holds her hands up to stop him.
“We’re fine,” she spits, “not that you would care.”
He looks so hurt that she almost takes it all back. She knows she’s being illogical. She also knows that Fitz would never, ever cheat on her. It’s not like he can control his dreams, and just because she’s never once dreamt of being with anyone besides him doesn’t mean he’s done anything wrong. Maybe he has certain desires that his subconscious brain enjoys exploring. Maybe…maybe he’s feeling different, now that her body is changing. He never looks at her with anything but his usual reverence, but still, it’s a possibility.
She knows all this, but it’s three in the morning and she can’t forget how easily he had told someone else they’d keep whatever happened a secret from her. She and Fitz don’t have secrets, not anymore.
“Please,” Fitz whispers, holding his hands toward her placatingly. “Jemma, what happened? You’re scaring me.”
Jemma grabs a pillow and hugs it to her chest, a poor substitute for her husband. She leans forward and inhales his scent as she shudders through more sobs, and she feels a hand on her back, hesitantly rubbing soothing circles beneath her shoulder blades.
“Did you have a bad dream?” and it’s the sweetly protective way he asks, as if he would fight to banish her nightmares, that breaks her.
“How could you?” she cries. “And who’s Rosie?”
His hand stills suddenly against her back. “Uh…wh-what?”
The fact that he doesn’t immediately admit to anything burns. “I heard you,” she says. “In your sleep, I heard you.”
Fitz doesn’t say anything, and when she’s finally brave enough to look up, he’s staring at her with wide eyes and he’s…blushing?