#justjamswrites

[justjams2003]

Hello my love! I have a Thor request! So I just read thundering return and I loved it it’s so good!! So I was wondering if you could do something like that but different! So what if after reader gets her outfit okayed by Thor she goes out in the town with a guard since Thor had avengers work to do! But she falls and her dresss ripped and it looks like she did it on purpose.

She so tries to get back to the castle before Thor comes home but he beats her there and when she walks in with that ripped dress he gets mad and teaches her a lesson on being a whore if yk what I mean

Love your writing please take your time!! 🩷

~ sincerely silk 🫶🏾✨🎀🤍

Hello Pookie 🥰 Thank you so much for the request! I must admit I'm writing this at one in the morning so if there are any mistakes I do apologise! But I hope it is to your liking and that you enjoy this very much.

Pairing: Dark!Thor x slave!arraigned marriage wife!reader

Warnings: Mentions of a previous rape, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome-type situation, degrading, praising. Abusive relationship. Controlling, possessiveness, blowjob, face fucking, tell me if I miss any.

Word Count: 2,5k+ unedited

You’ve always liked the sun, warmth. You liked walking in the garden, feeling the rays warm your face and tan your skin. Your mother didn’t like that, she wants to keep you fair and beautiful for the possible marriage offers you might receive. Men did bet millions and billions for your hand but your mother was certain she could get more than money.  

And she did. You’ve done your family a great honour by being Thor’s wife. Connecting the family name to the Odinson name. Placing a veil of protection over the family of beauty. You thought that maybe finally having a husband would mean not having to constantly be hidden from the world like your mother hid you.... You can’t help but wonder how she is.  

“You shouldn’t sit in the sun, it’ll damage your skin.” Your maid echos while you sit on the porch of the castle. Your gaze falls on Thor and his company as they get ready to leave for their trip. You lean your body against the stone of the surrounding walls. Your chin leaning on your flat hands. 

You ignore your handmaiden. You like watching Thor. He looks so stern and kingly, pointing at a map, rubbing his beard and then pointing again. He walks up the castle steps, your heart races and your head rises, you must act properly if he’s going to talk to you. But, he walks past. 

Your eyes follow him as he walks back into the castle. You swallow the knot in your throat. You know what him going away means. It means you’ll be all alone. You’re not allowed anywhere without his knowing and consent. And if he’s not here, you won’t be going anywhere. 

You know deep down he won’t greet you when he leaves. He’s not soft with you when others are around like he is when you are alone. He doesn’t allow himself to be overindulgent when the others are watching. They mustn't know that their future king is weak, that he feels. 

He walks back out of the castle, through the doors and before he’s down the stairs you jump up. “My love?” Your voice is faint and sounds hesitant. Thor stops in his tracks and turns to you. He walks over to where you now stand. His head tilts, telling you to speak. 

“I was thinking, maybe, while you’re gone, I could just maybe possibly-” Thor glares and interrupts you before you ask what you really want to. “Don’t ramble, it’s unsightly. Get to the point.” His voice is rough and quickly jolts you into shape. “Right. Could I perhaps visit the market?” You wring your wrist in between your hands. His eyes fall on your hands and you stop, knowing he hates fidgeting. 

His eyes then seem to scan over your body. He’s picked out and bought each dress with obsessive detail. But some are more appropriate for outside the castle and others better for inside the castle than others. And you know now he’s assessing your current dress’ suitability. You turn around for him. 

He doesn’t give any concrete affirmation but only calls a guard closer. “She is not to talk to you or any other. She will be back before nightfall.” The night nods and stands just a few feet behind you. He’s guarded you before and knows the rules and regulations. A wide smile falls on your lips and you bend your head in a bow. 

“Thank you, my prince. I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

The market is lively, and there is music going around from somewhere you can’t quite find. People are calling out prices for their items, trying to sell their wares. There is the smell of boar being roasted and beer being drunk.  

People step out of your way when you walk with your group of handmaidens and guards. “Your majesty. Wouldn’t you take these beautiful flowers to match your grace?” Your eyes fall on the old man trying to pay his respects to the princess. Your guts twist and turn. You know you have a duty to your people, to be kind to them. But also to Thor, to not take gifts from another man, no matter his age. 

You nod to your handmaiden to take the bouquet of flowers. Her brows furrow in worry for your well-being, and her eyes flicker to the guard. You both know he is going to tell everything notable to the prince. But she follows your command. 

“You keep it.” You speak to her once you’re past the flower merchant. Your handmaiden bows her head, grateful. “Please mind my arrogance in asking but was that wise, Your Highness?” She asks, she knows the blue bruises you carry on your skin. She is devout to her princess and not to her prince and doesn’t believe when she says he is soft. 

“Likely not. But I was not the one to accept the gift. You were. Is it not in your possession?” You ask, knowing you’ve found a technicality. She allows a knowing smile to grace her and again bows her head. Your eyes find the sun’s position in the sky. It’s low, much lower than you would’ve expected or liked. “We should go back.” 

But as all accidents happen, in a rush of bumbling and fumbling of steps in a panic to get something done quick. What’s the difference between an accident and on porpoise? One purpose is to plan something beforehand. An accident is an event that has unintentionally happened, that results in damage, injury or harm. And this was not planned and this does cause harm. 

But not harm as in the scrape on your knee. And not as in the harm to the fabric now noticeable to the tear in your dress from the ankle to right above the knee. But rather what would happen if Thor were to see this. The harm that would fall upon you if he believed that this was rather on purpose than an accident. 

You snap your head to your handmaiden. Your eyes and hers go wide with panic. Your heart falls in your shoes and at the same knocks around in your body in hysteria. You scramble to pick up all the material of your dress. You try to cover yourself with what little extra material you have. 

From there it was a mad dash. You’re glad being a princess allows you to move through the crowds rather quickly. Your head snaps back at the sky beginning to dangle dangerously low in the sky. To the point that the blue begins to bleed to blood red.  

Was the sun racing you? Determined to be the first to turn blue. Relief spills over you right as red splashes over into purple and then dark blue. Your feet hit the stone stairs with a clack on each one. But you do not bother because you believe you’ve made it home before Thor. 

That is until you storm into your bedroom. The smile instantly falls from your face. Your heart thumps in your ears like it does after you’ve run as far as she has. Sweat pours over her like a wave smashing everything to bits in its way. You soon hear your handmaiden stop behind you and gasp seeing the prince. 

“Leave.” He instantly commands the girl. She looks to you for confirmation and you give it to her. She closes the door behind her. You gulp, trying to steady your heart racing and your heavy breathing. He steps closer, one heavy boot at a time. If the castle was made of paper it would’ve crumpled. 

He tilts his head, “Who so out of breath?” He taunts you. He knows well the time restrictions set, but he wants to hear you say it. You keep your dress close to your body, hoping to keep the tear hidden for as long as possible. “I was instructed to be home before sunset.” 

You snap your head to the balcony, seeing the last rays of the star just barely creeping over the mountains. “I’ve done as instructed.” Thor hums, he’s looking for something to be wrong. Why else would you be so wide-eyed and frayed. Begging for his praise, distracting him with good done. 

His eyes inspect your body. Quite carefully. Until he spots it. He has to fight the grin that wants to form on his. He steps closer. He speaks: “Good girl.” He coos, but his hand reaches down. His calloused fingers find the tear and drags from there to your upper thigh and then some. 

“What the fuck is this?” Thor’s hand grabs onto your soft supple bottom flesh. He guides your leg to lift into his large hand. In one fluid motion, he has you against the wall, your now exposed leg being made to wrap around him by his iron grip. 

“It-it was an accident. I tripped and fell and the dress ripped.” You stutter, your mind is conflicting with your body. Your body likes his touch grabbing and squeezing onto your thigh. It incites a wet pleasure from you. But your mind worries, this is not the reaction you expected. 

Thor scoffs, “Please, that bullshit if I ever heard it. No...you did this on purpose.” Your eyes widen, not that you can be shocked, you expected this more than anything. You knew he’d blame you the moment you made contact with the floor. “No, Thor, please believe-” 

You’re stopped by his hand on your neck and a crazed look in his eyes. “Don’t think I haven’t seen those longing looks you’ve been giving me. You’re a needy slut for my attention and you’ve whored yourself out on the streets to get it.” Your breathing hitches at your words. You would fight but you know he won’t listen. 

“You forget your place, wife.” He snaps, tightening his hold on your neck. Your many years of training come back to you. He’s right. He’s right. He’s been gone so much lately on missions with those humans, you’ve been lonely and desperate for his attention. 

“Yes, my prince.” He grins at your words. He shoves you in front of the bed, now he’s ripping at your corset strings. Stripping you as quick as he can. Once you’re bare in front of him, he shoves you down to your knees. His bulge is proud in his pants in front of you. 

“You wanted my attention, you’ve got to work for it.” You take in a deep breath. This is what you wanted. Isn’t it? Why else would you beg like you did to go out? And then rip your dress in such a public place too? Your instincts kick in, you’ve done this a hundred times. 

You make quick work of his belt. It starts with quick and small kitten licks on his slit. His hand grabs your hair. “Come on, don’t be shy now. You’re a whore, act like it, damnit.” He grins, pretending that he cares about what you want. He wants to teach you a lesson. But it only makes sense, right? You did this to yourself. 

You take one big lick from the base on his cock up to his uncircumcised tip. You hollow out your cheeks and take as much of him in as you can. But he’s a huge man and no matter what size you are it’d be hard to fit him all in your mouth. 

“By Odin’s beard, you look just like those town whores you see in the filthy peasant villages.” He groans with a shit-eating smirk. You bob your mouth up and down. Coating his dick in your spit. You make sure to swirl your tongue around his vein just how he likes it. 

The other half of his huge cock that you can’t seem to bottom out, you pump with your hand. He growls at this, clearly not impressed with this shitty attempt at a blowjob. He grabs your head with both his hands. You know this stance all too well. Your eyes look up at him, silently begging him for mercy. 

“I don’t know why you look so scared. Isn’t this what you wanted?” His hips thrust, shoving his cock right down your throat. You gag, but there is no care in his eyes. You grab onto his thighs, trying to stabilize yourself. His crotch rapidly jerks forward and back over and over. Face fucking you with the power of the god he is. 

“Your dirty liar mouth feels so fucking good.” He gasps out, but you rarely even realise what he says. Your eyes are blurred with tears. Your throat burns from his dick stabbing you repeatedly in your oesophagus. Your ears feel almost blocked from the daze you're in being used as a face fuck. 

You can physically see his balls begin to tighten after a good while of him abusing your face. “Oh fuck...fuck...” He mumbles then looks down at you. His blue eyes are hazy with pleasure. “I’m gonna fill your mouth, you fucking slut. And your gonna take it all like the whore you are.” He commands you, but there isn’t much way for you to protest. 

His hot sticky seed flows down your throat. He slows right at the back of your throat. You sputter before taking big gulps. The bittersweet flavour burns your tongue and you can’t get enough of it. “Look at you, loving it. Such a bitch from me and so prim and proper for those other men.” He grins, knowing he can have you like this any time he wants. 

He pulls his still semi-hard cock out of your mouth. “Show me.” He orders, hands on his hips. You do as he asks, opening your mouth that you’ve done as wanted and drank all his cum. “Fucking hell...just look at that.” 

Thor bends down in front of you, his dick still out but he doesn’t care much for modesty when it comes to himself. “Aren’t I just the best? You come in here, dressed like some common harlot. I should’ve punished you.” His hand is on your chin and his thumb swipes at your bottom lip. “Yes, my prince.” He smiles at this response. 

“I saw that you were really just a needy whore for me and gave you my cock instead. Say thank you, you slut.” He’s almost disgusted with how nice he thinks he was. “Thank you, my prince, for showing your whore mercy.” No matter how hard you try to escape the mindset, you’ll always be his little slut. 

He suddenly takes your lips in his. Abusing your lips in a passionate kiss. “It’s because my whore is just oh-so-pretty. I just can’t say no to you.”  

[justjams2003]

The Desire to be Loved-7

Summary: Love is Desire's first creation. As Cupid she shoots her arrows of love and rips them from people's hearts too. Occasionally, shooting a soulmate arrow. What does she do when her first Soulmate arrow in 100 years is between Cupid and Dream?

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x OFC Love/Cupid/Venus (you know how these beings have millions of names) (Also technically it could be an x reader because love is sort of anthropomorphic but in this story a she)

Warnings: Manipulation, threats, crying, cliffhanger, unedited, kind of like enemies to lovers, soulmate au, cursing, gore, snake slander :(tell me if I miss any.

Word count: 2k+

Dividers by: @hyelita

Tags: @intothesoul @bridkesby @coffeebeforewater @i-voluntears @dreamingblueberries @idkamt @deniixlovezelda @lmg-stilinski24 @superbreadsoul @poemfreak306 @lexi-anastasia-astra-luna @fries11 @lost-inthe-v0idid

Masterlist

Part 6

The hall is somehow even quieter than when Morpheus was captured. Everyone is far too scared to interrupt the stare down between Dream and Love. Love doesn’t need to breathe and yet it feels like she is suffocating. This...might just be their first time seeing each other since Dream gifted her the realm. Each had been too busy with their duties.

But it’s not awkward or painful between them. For the first time in Lucine’s life, she sees her master reach out. His long slender arm escapes from under his starry robe. A stark white contrast against the darkness of the dreaming castle. A gentle big outreach for her to come closer.

There is a click as she steps forward, her body instinctively wanting to be closer to him. She know she should think more clearly about this, and yet, she doesn’t. Love’s smaller, tanner hand slides into his and with seconds Dream’s arms are around her. Cradling her close and an unknown sob shudders through her body.

Tiny hands grab onto the felt of his big black coat. The fabric absorbs the tears that gently roll down her cheeks. She shakes her head, her golden spun hair falling lose from her usual braid. “Don’t, don’t do that. Please, don’t do that again.” She begs, her body shaking and Dream places a kiss on the top of her head.

His large hand cradles her head and every time she begs for him to never mess with her mind again, he replies with a simple: “I won’t. I’m sorry.” Lucienne has never seen Dream be anything but stoic and angry. Discipline of his realm and his creation has only ever been the only thing he enacted.

But now...he’s cradling this little flower. The embodiment of love and joy and everything soft and cuddly. An emotional girl who feels everything and anything from the slightest blink and trip. Hushing her as she cries into his chest. Black against her pink. And the red thudding heart the two of them share.

When her cries slowly die down, she realises the position they’re in. And that the whole court is just sort of standing there...watching them as Dream comforts little Love. She steps back, looking up at him with these teary brown eyes that makes him want to burn the world down all of the sudden.

“I’m sorry, it’s just-” She realises how she must look. She wipes her tears off on the back of her hand. She flattens down the frizz of her hair. “-it was like with Desire. And-” Dream stops her with a gentle hand on her upper arm. Rubbing soft circles to remind her that her body is hers and she has control.

“I understand, Love. I acted before thinking of how it might affect you and I...I must earnestly apologize.” He speaks and again everyone is scared to breathe. That century must’ve really done him good, or perhaps it’s the ball of sunshine he now feels responsible for because he’s never apologized before...

Love lets her shoulders drop slightly, feeling the weight drop from her back. She sort of looks around from Dream to the librarian to the raven. She realises that she’d likely interrupted something. She swallows, “I’m sorry, um,” she gathers her thoughts, “you called me here...” She looks up at Dream, allowing him to finish the question on his own.

Dream seems to ignore the utter urgency that he was feeling before this. And he doesn’t allow for Love to slip from his arms either. He shows nonchalance to the rest of his people, but behind her back, he balls the fabric of her dress in his hands. Resting on her lower back, clenching the pink dress until his knuckles turn whiter that the pale he already is.

All from guilt, utter guilt. How could he not have thought this through? The seriousness of having to fix this great danger in the universe overcame all his mind and then hers. He hadn’t even realised he could climb in her mind like he can his other subjects. Dream can do that with the dreaming inhabitants because they are a part of him. That would mean that Love is a part of him...

It has to be true because their hearts beat in the same rhythm. Not yet one because she still carries the arrow with her. But they know, they know they’re meant to be. Their souls yearn for each other, no matter how their minds fight the reality of it all.

Lucienne forces herself to speak up. To step forward because it would seem her creator’s mind has faded to other matters. Much prettier matters than the horrifying gaping black hole that could possibly consume the dreaming, an ugly matter. “Cupid, why were you talking to Rose?” Big golden eyes, usually warm and caring now confused and frightened.

“I’m not there for her.” A sweet voice that makes Dream’s cold icy heart begin to defrost. “But you were with her?” Lucienne repeats. “Her friend, Lyta. She has a broken heart but refuses to let go... It can be quite the horrific site and if the arrow stays in her heart much longer, the effects could be drastic...” They all turn and look to each other, like they know something she doesn’t.

“What?” Lucienne sighs and Dream conjures up his sand, making up sights and sounds to explain the severity of the situation. “Rose Walker. Something called a dream vortex....”

She feels like a little girl who’s just been scolded. She can’t understand them, she can’t understand how they don’t see to even care about Rose, as a person. She’s just a girl looking for her brother. Why they’re so dead set on killing her, she can’t comprehend it. Rose has a whole life she’s meant to live. A pink or maybe red arrow waiting for her somewhere in the world. A heart tethered to hers, waiting to see her smile for the first time. And they just want to take that all away, no consideration for what Destiny has planned for her.

Cupid huffs, pouting like a little girl too. Her pouting lips resting against her knees that are pulled up against her chest. Her bare toes digging into the mud that oozes water, coming from the lake, when she does. She watches as the little fish go to take a nipple of her toes and then jump away when she wiggles them just a little. Then the ripples of water it creates across the pond. Bouncing from the walls of mud and reeds all the way under the little stone bridge allowing the teddies access over the pond.

They berated her too like a little girl. How dare she even consider that the life of one girl is as important as the whole dreaming and all its dreamers? She can’t even believe they’d ask such a thing. She loved all the mortals, with all her heart she loved them. Even when they curse and scream at her for the agony she has no choice in. Is she just a naive little girl? Should she keep her nose out of Dream’s important politics and stick to her fairies and teddies and hearts and arrows?

How can she not say anything? Accept it as is? Accept the death of a young woman, because, what? She might harm Dream? That girl won’t harm a fly, unless of course the flies that dare sit on her brother’s food. Can’t Morpheus understand that it isn’t hate that fuels her but love, love for her brother? Of course he can’t. He’s never loved anyone. If he did, she’d be the first one and maybe the only one to ever know. The fact that he seems so complacent and maybe even started this idea of killing the girl makes her utterly furious at him.

Furious...?

Has Love ever been angry before? She’d felt sad before, mourning the death of a love bond. Guilty, yes, when having to take the love from people. Scared when Desire taunted her so. Obedient when he’d command her. Empty when he’d take over her body. But not angry at him for it... Even when she had accidently taken that soul, she was not angry. She was scared, scared of herself, scared of what Desire might do, what might happen to her.

But angry, like this? No...

The hot sun’s rays are interrupted by a dark cloudy man who sits himself down right next to Love. Well...with a distance of course. A distance that makes both of their hearts tugg but neither of them would admit it. They can’t love each other, the arrow has not been planted. And they can’t like each other, they’re polar opposites. But they do, at least, Dream knew it was guilt that he felt when Cupid’s smile dropped learning about Rose. And a complete and utter sense of emergency to fix this.

At least, Dream thinks there shouldn’t be a universe where she isn’t smiling. Much less pouting and brooding in her garden, her flowery kingdom, like she does now. It’s a wrong doing for the universe for his little sunshine to be cloudy...His?...

“You look like a fairy. Like those the little girls dream of...” Cupid shrinks away from him and hides her wings when he makes the comment. “I’m not a fairy. That’s a fairy.” She looks at one of her creatures, tiny little fluttering wings and jumping from flower petal to dew drop. “Of course not.” He replies, hoping that agreeing with her might be at least a start to remedy the situation. But it isn’t and he realises that when she huffs and turns away, suddenly the moss growing on the tree is much more interesting than anything on the side he’s sitting.

His hand twitches as he stops himself from grabbing her face and forcing her to look at him. He has to be soft he keeps reminding himself. He can’t just take what he wants. But he himself isn’t ever sure what it is that he wants. Why suddenly seeing her in such distress make him... angry...? Who dares hurt such a sweet soft thing, love herself?

“Love-“ her head swivels for her eyes to snap at him and glare his soul straight out his body. “Leave.” She huffs, with this new sudden stubbornness he’s never heard before from her. “No.” He replies with the same zing. His stark eyes clash with hers. As if in a battle of wits to see who’s the most stubborn. Nothing but their breathing and the chirping life around them is to be heard. Besides, of course, the clashing swords of wills.

But she’s never been one to fight and even less so with someone who’s done so much for her. She stands up. No longer challenging his mirroring of her own stubbornness, she walks until she feels the wet, squishy mud of the lake in between her toes. “Dream...you have done much for me. Brought me peace and allowed me to bloom...” She walks until she can feel the warm lake water up to her fingertips.

“Showed me the power I did not know I held...” She walks until she can feel the slimy plants cling to her waist. “But know this-” She turns, her hair frizzy from the humidity of the lake. The sunlight hits her just right, making her look like a nymph that makes Morpheus’ heart beat just a bit faster than it had been. And her brown eyes look just about ready to devour him for the sin of even thinking about going against her will.

“-I will not put the well-being of the humans over a love that must still bloom.” And then she walks until the aqua swirls in her ears and stings her eyes. All only to make it seem that the tears rolling down her cheeks are only that- water. All only to convince her heart that their connection hasn’t pooled into a reservoir she saves for herself when the loneliness creeps up on her. That the flowers of love aren’t being watered. And that the branches of the heart hasn’t started to flourish for the first time since her creation.

Desire had to have loved her at some point, right? This can’t possible be the first time she’s felt all...warm inside. But she had been so angry...? The agony humans feel when they are in love she remembers to be quite similar...

[justjams2003]

The Desire to be Loved

Summary: Love is Desire's first creation. As Cupid she shoots her arrows of love and rips them from people's hearts too. Occasionally, shooting a soulmate arrow. What does she do when her first Soulmate arrow in 100 years is between Cupid and Dream?

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

[justjams2003]

The Desire to be Loved- 5

Summary: Love is Desire's first creation. As Cupid she shoots her arrows of love and rips them from people's hearts too. Occasionally, shooting a soulmate arrow. What does she do when her first Soulmate arrow in 100 years is between Cupid and Dream?

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x OFC Love/Cupid/Venus (you know how these beings have millions of names) (Also technically it could be an x reader because love is sort of anthropomorphic but in this story a she)

Warnings: Manipulation, threats, crying, cliffhanger, unedited, kind of like enemies to lovers, soulmate au, cursing, gore, snake slander :(tell me if I miss any.

Word count: 1,8k+

Dividers by: @hyelita

Tags: @intothesoul @briskesby coffeebeforewater @i-voluntears @dreamingblueberries @idkamt @deniixlovezelda @lmg-stilinski24

Masterlist

What overcame him can only be described as fury. Utter rage. As if he himself were not Dream but Destruction. Desire had not put the humans in danger, it is true that he was not stupid enough to do that. However, they did harm Cupid. There’d be no other explanation for his hollow puppet following after Dream.  

Morpheus doesn’t see warm brown eyes staring back at him, but instead malicious glowing gold. Like a slithering snake watching his every move, deciding when to strike again. And he’s used Cupid’s body as the tall grass that he’s used to hide from Dream. Or rather, a second skin from which he can crawl inside and out when needed. Just another way to abuse her.  

Dream’s pale hand wraps around the puppet’s neck. “Come out and face me, you unhuman abuser.” The creature’s expression changes to that sinister smirk that Desire has trademarked. She speaks but it is not her. It sounds painful. The voice sounds to be physically crawling with claws out of her throat. “You know where to find me.”  

The puppet does what puppets do when their master lets go of their strings, she falls limp, then disappears. The dream-maker curses and within seconds steps into his gallery hall. He grabs the heart of Desire and his boots hit the red glass walls of Desire’s realm.  

“What did you do with her?” His voice is rough and his jaw is locked. “She is my creature you cannot have her.” The younger brother snipes with a pained attitude, clearly displeased with his older brother catching him in his shenanigans. “She is not something to be owned.” The rougher voice replies just as quickly.  

Desire’s lip is raised in disgust. He sits upright on his throne, crossing his legs and leaning forward. “I breathed life into her flesh, I can take it away just as easily. That makes her mine to own.” Dream steps forward. “Perhaps. But it is awfully cruel to keep Love from loving merely because the free will you gave her is awakening.”  

Desire scoffs, “This is not love this is desperation. She’s nothing but a pet, I made her to be used.” This ticks Dream off. He does he same as he had with the marionette, grabs Desire right by the neck, threatening his life. “I will summon every nightmare that I have ever made and ever will make to haunt every frame that your eyes show you. You think that Endless do not too have dreams? I see, do not think I do not.”  

Desire clenches his jaw. He knows that Dream speaks the truth and anything Dream can conjure would be 100 times more terrifying than he could. They swallow, their eyes look for a way out but can’t find one. “She’s in Despair’s realm. I don’t know where.” Dream doesn’t say anything, just squeezes Desire’s neck tighter. “I don’t know where! I don’t know what despair she has, I gave her the perfect life!”

Within those words Dream knows what haunts Cupid. He remembers the horror in her eyes and the way the blood dripped to the floor like sticky syrup. The way it coated her golden hair, making look like wet copper, a rusty pipe. Most of all he remembers how she wailed in despair.  

She can’t escape it. She can’t escape this nightmare. Each time she tries to stop it from happening, it does happen. No matter what she does or doesn’t do. The heart always ends up beating in her hands. She holds the soul of the lover pumping blood until it shrivelled up and grey in her arms.  

At this point, she’s given in. She sits on the floor in the corner of the room it all happened in. Even when she does this, the organ still ends up pouring her hands with blood. The tears she cried at first matched this boundless drip but now it has ended and there is nothing left in her soul. Only the fear she has for herself and just how cruel she has become. 

“Cupid.” She doesn’t hear. All she hears is the man that at no time has ever stopped crying. Grabbing at his chest as he dies of a broken heart. That and that pump-pump-pump as the cardio vascular muscles pull and contract trying to save a person who stands no chance.  

“Cupid!” In between the gasps of a dead man and the point where all blood drains she hears it. Him. Has he come to fulfil his promise of finding her? Of saving her? Why did it take so long? Why did she have to break this poor soul’s heart over a million times before he found her? 

“Cupid!” Her gaze snaps. It is him. The scene restarts again. The man’s crying starts again. No, no, she can’t do this again if there is some glimmer of an escape. Her head finally raises from the position it’s been locked in for all this time. “Call again.” Her voice is rare but the other one isn’t. 

“Cupid!” There it is! A mirror in the corner of the room that ripples when the voice calls out. She lifts herself. Her knees crack as she does and her legs have long since gone into pins and needles. But anything is better than that blood curdling scream that comes now. She jumps, she jumps every time. The heart shows in her hands again and again she wants to stop and cry. 

“Cupid!” She mustn't become distracted, this is her only chance! She must come to him herself or else she can never escape this hell. She places the heart down, the man cries even louder at this. She flinches but in her last moment of strength ignores his pleas for her to stay and comfort him. She’s tried that before.  

Her hand, smeared red with blood, reaches to the mirror and then through the mirror. She feels a soft hand, a cold one, a pleasant change from the burning blood bound to her hands. A gasp of relief escapes her and she steps closer. She can just barely make out his face and those glowing blue eyes.  

“Come to me, Cupid. I have found you.”  

With one step through the glassy mirror, relief falls on her shoulders. More like tumbles down. Peace comes within the instant. And suddenly she can breathe again. Glades upon glades of ceaseless flowers that jump and dance in the wind and the sun and the colours that plummet from their petals.  

The mountains too are painted in vibrant images of a thousand hues. The suns first early rays comes from the right and cast a shadow behind her. Bees and birds and butterflies bound from beautiful buttercups. What looks to be fairies, made from which she is, tend to the flower field.  

The hand that holds hers helps her as she hunches down in the hibiscus flowers. The tule of her dress surrounds her in a image of a flower’s petals spreading in the face of the early mornings rays. Her hair seems to match the colour of sunshine and Dream can hear his own heart beat in his ears.  

“You made this for me?” Her eyes, this time like hot honey on his tongue, look up to him. She squints against the sun shining down on her. Her button nose scrunches up as she does. A coy smile shows his white teeth against those pale lips. 

“I did not.” Her brows furrow, “Then who did?” He tilts his head to the side, the sunrays hit her eyes again, he notices and moves back. “You did.” Cupid turns back to face the flower meadow. “Me?” He nods, allowing her to think. “You started out as something merely made by Desire...but it seems your affect on the humans has made you into something more...”  

His blue eyes don’t seem to match the blue sky and it’s all she can think about. “This would be your realm.” He explains to her, he can’t seem to look away. It’s strange, a pout forms on her lips. It runs over Dream like a crashing wave you cannot run form. He cannot stop when he is already crouched down beside her and his thumb pulls on her bottom lip. 

“Why the frown?” Her cheeks match the colour of a dusty rose. She takes her head back from his grasp and her eyes scan the scene. “I was hoping there’d be someone to talk to.” Dream feels his heart soften like wet clay. His knees give in and he sits down next to her in the flower bed. 

“You are lonely?” Her small hands takes the delicate petals of a flower between her fingers. “I’ve only ever talked to Desire.” Dream scoffs at this. “That is sure to cause a lonely heart for his company is only about themself.” He stands out in the colourful field. “You could make some company.” 

Dream suggests and her brows pull together. The Endless gently plucks the flower she holds from her hands. He seems to summon a bundle of sand which so carefully trickles onto the flower. The daisy sprouts eyes and appendages and a mouth. It’s eyes look all around before settling on Cupid. 

“Hello.” Love smiles and brushes the petals again. “Hello. Go, play.” She says, letting the now mortal flower jump around in the meadow. “Thank you, but I was hoping something with more substantial consciousness.” Now it is Dreams turn to furrow his brows. 

“I could give you the gift of choice. To chose when the humans can see you and when they cannot, just as I come and go.” He suggests to her, wanting to do almost anything to keep her happy. “You just saved me from eternal hell and now wish to gift me more?” She is unused to people being kind. 

“If it sets your heart at ease we could call it an exchange.” Her eyes jump from his eyes to her sharp jaw and then back. It’s hard to keep focus when he’s not looked away from her once. “What for?” Dreams allows the arrow to appear in his hands and then places it in hers.  

She smiles now at the sight of the arrow. “What would you like me to do with this?” She asks, her eyes reading the names over and over again. Dream smiles, “Is it our names written?” He asks her, his eyes only hold softness, no anger. 

Cupid nods, not trusting her voice. “I’d like for you to keep it. And only when you feel the statement is correct may you pierce our hearts with it.” Suddenly tears pool in her eyes and she shudders trying not to cry.

A choice. He’s given himself the chance to earn her love. He’s given her the choice to love him or not. Her first choice ever and it seems it will be the most important one she’ll ever make.

Part 4~Part 6 (coming soon)

[justjams2003]

Hiiii I'd like to request something about Chris Hemsworth......idk if your into kpop groups or if you like it or not but if you want to accept my request please kindly do a little research on it here's the story

So the reader is a part of a kpop girl group and her and Chris are dating secretly...he was also seen attending the readers group concert but the fans thought it was just because they are good friends that's why but reality is something that they are dating but fans some how people find out and start freaking out lol...... I'll leave the ending to you

Thank you so much for taking your time and reading this if you don't like the idea please feel free to ignore I totally understand....

Hi, girly pop! Sorry that this one took me like forever and a day. But I hope it's to your liking!

Pairing: Chris Hemsworth x Kpop idol!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, dirty talk, dirty thoughts, kissing, but nothing dirty actually happens. Wet cat eyes. Babygirl Chris Hemsworth. The use of Y/N. Let me know if I missed something

Word count: 1,8k+ Undeited

Divider by: @princessantisocial

The studio lights cause the sweat to bead down your forehead. Your group’s makeup artist is quick to fix this. She wipes the sweat off and then brushes some powder there again. “Are you alright?” She asks, her black brows furrow together while she fixes the creases around your nose.  

Korean is like English to you now and you don’t even need to translate it anymore. “I’m just like a really big fan so, I’m a bit nervous.” She smiles and then takes a step back. She nods, proud of her work. Jisoo giggles, she is listening in on the conversation. You give her a slight shove. “Don’t even start.” 

She listens to your warning but she does give you a knowing wink. You feel your heartbeat rise when the other studio door opens and The Avengers Endgame actors start to fill the room. They’re on the Korean leg of their press tour. And your band released a song for the movie. And one of the actors has been your crush since the first Thor movie came out. 

You’re sitting right in front of where Chris is supposed to be sitting. Where usually there’d be an interviewer and an interviewee, now you’re both interviewing each other. You sit with the cards in front of you, each member has their own cards. You notice his presence by his delicious scent. Your head is slow to look up but you’re instantly hit with his bright blue eyes. 

You sit up straighter, and your breath gets stuck in your chest. And when he sits down you realise you have to breathe and have no choice but to let out a shaky puff of air. Your eyes glance at your managers, their eyes look dangerous and you know that this isn’t your image. You’re supposed to be the fun one, the confident one. 

The cameraman nods, three, two, one. “Hi, we’re BLACKPINK.” Your group says in unison, some making finger hearts and others a peace sign. Then it’s your turn to speak. “And we’re here to interview The Avengers Endgame cast.” Okay, yeah, it’s cool, you’ve got this. You’re sure you look cool as can be. 

You watch his every move. The way he scratches his beard when he thinks about his reply to a question. The way his bright blue eyes linger on you before quickly looking away when you notice. How he leans in when you speak. Licking his lips as if he stopping himself from saying something. 

Or when he leans back in his chair. His hips move forward as he gets comfortable. The way his slacks stretch around his huge thighs. His thighs make you think of all sorts of filthy things. You imagine yourself in his lap, his big hands on your hips. You can just see yourself bucking into the seams of his pants and- 

He speaks and your eyes snap up to him. He’s looking straight at you, did he see the lust in your eyes? “I have a question.” Chris’ voice is like hot lava against your back. “Let’s hear it.” You reply almost automatically, so badly just wanting to talk to him. His bright blue eyes fall down to his cards, they scan over the words as he reads them over. 

“Which Avenger is each member’s favourite Avenger?” Of course, this has to be the one that he asks. But he’s got this sly grin about it. Previous interviews flash through your mind. You try to think of all the times you’ve gushed over him and you can feel your face turn the same colour as the pink skirt you’re wearing. 

The four other BLACKPINK member’s heads all turn to you. They all have this shit-eating grin on their face. “Go on, tell him,” Lisa speaks, urging you on. Chris raises his brow and then RDJ interrupts. “Y/N, is there something you’d like to tell us?” Then all of the girls begin giggling. You bite your lip, trying to fight off the smile. 

“It’s sort of a...inside joke that I’m kind of...obsessed with Thor.” His eyes go big and he forms a sort of shit-eating grin. His muscular arm reaches back and rests on the chair’s top railing. You feel just about ready for the floor to swallow you whole. But luckily Jisoo saves you the embarrassment. “My favourite is Wanda, 'cause she’s a badass girl.” 

🪞♡₊˚ 🥐・₊✧ ホットチョコレート

“Y/N, we’ve got some good news and some bad news.” The director of your new music video speaks. He’s holding his clipboard like always. You can’t really nod since there are about three different people working on your look for the music video. Luckily you don’t have to. 

“You know how we have that scene where we have you lean against a guy’s chest?” Again he speaks without a reply from you. “Well, that guy cancelled. But strangely enough, we got a call right after they cancelled asking to be their replacement.” Your brows furrow together but then your director steps aside. 

It’s not very hard to see the Chris Hemsworth being oiled up by one of your makeup artists. Those wave blue eyes find you the second you see him. You can feel yourself turn bright red. He just looks so good and you can feel your hands itch to touch him. 

Your heart is racing in your ears. Chris looks so delicious lying on the set. It’s a messy bed, his abs flex as he gets comfortable in the bed. He holds out his hand for you. His hand is so much bigger than yours and so warm too. He’s so gentle when he guides your hips against his. His body heat makes your blushing cheeks so much worse. 

“Just breathe.” He whispers into your ear, his fingers tickling your waist. You try your best to touch him as little as possible. “How can I?” You mumble looking into the camera while they set it up. “Just imagine this is every day for us. Imagine that my hands are always on you like this.” Your breath hitches and the thought only makes your cheeks redder. 

The director speaks, he uses his fingers to count down to one. Then the music begins playing. You lip-sync to the song, you’re in your element, and you remind yourself just how long you’ve been working on this song. But then his lips are on your neck and for just a few seconds you lose focus. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you mutter when the cameras cut. A sigh escapes you and you lean back looking up at him. “That’s not very professional of you.” You scoff but you’re quickly shut up when his thumb grazes over your bottom lip. “How can I be professional when you’re looking at me like that, looking like this?” 

His breath smells so minty and his lips look so soft when he speaks. Breathing feels almost unnatural around him. His fingers pinch your chin and force you to look up at him. His eyes look so stormy when he speaks. “How old are you, little girl?” You understand completely how he feels when he says it’s hard to stay professional. 

“25.” You reply to him. He lets out a groan and then grabs you by the hips. He pulls you closer, higher up, adjusting so just you’re no longer lying on his groin. “Okay, we’re ready to start again.” 

🪞♡₊˚ 🥐・₊✧ ホットチョコレート 

His lips are on yours and his hands are all over your body. “Chris...” You mutter into his neck. He pushes you further against the wall. You’re trapped in his arms, in his scent, in his touch. “We shouldn’t be doing this...I’m not allowed to date.” Again you try to get his attention but Chris is just too furious for you. 

He had you cornered after the shoot. Quickly had you in some storage closet. His rugged voice and smooth touch had your knees weak and you just couldn’t resist when he placed the softest gentlest kiss on your lips. It was like his mouth was made of delicious cotton candy. And he tastes just as sweet. 

He sighs, seeing just how serious you are. His hand swipes across his lips. Trying to get rid of the feeling of your lips on his. “Come to my house. No one will see. Just me and you.” He suggests, his big blue eyes look to be pleading with you. Like he needs you more than he needs air. You sigh, crossing your arms. The way he looks at you...you just can’t say no. 

“Please.” It’s like a punch in the gut when his voice cracks. Begging to see you just once more. How are you ever supposed to resist? But the thought of your managers finding out...it could cost you your job. “If anyone asks, we’re just friends. I know the routine. I know how I’ll have to hide.” 

A sigh escapes you. He’s so smooth with his words, he knows exactly what to say. “Okay, but just this once.” 

🪞♡₊˚ 🥐・₊✧ ホットチョコレート 

His laugh is like intoxicating incense that makes your head swirl. And when he’s done laughing he fiddles with the rings on his fingers and the watch around his wrist. You look down at the empty plate. Your stomach feels full and your heart too. Your cheeks hurt from just how much he’s made you laugh. 

You look around at his big house. You took the first opportunity you could find to head to Australia and see him. Each time that the thought crossed your mind of just ignoring him you’d see those eyes and the way his voice broke. Begging for you to just see him. Now, you’re glad you came. 

Chris’ house is so empty. Everything looks like it’s come straight out of an Architectural digest. Like it’s been thoroughly cleaned before you came. Very few signs of someone living there. You can’t really imagine someone living here. “Don’t you get lonely, all on your own?” You ask, finally returning to him. It’s as if he just can’t stop looking at you. When you see him, he sees you. 

“I’m rarely home...don’t you get lonely?” He leans his chin on his intertwined hands. You smirk, eyes all over him. “I’m rarely home.” You repeat his words to him. “But...” Again a sigh escapes you. “I haven’t laughed this much in a long. I haven’t eaten this good in so long...” His hand slowly creeps up, grabbing yours in his. 

You feel this sort of magnetic draw towards him. Like the whole world just spins around him. When he smiles, you smile. When he laughs, you laugh. You feel sort of at home. Talking to him moves so smoothly. And everything inside of your heart and soul is telling you to- 

“Stay.” Chris’ deep Australian accent cuts off your obsessive ramblings. It’s as if he’s reading your mind... 

🪞♡₊˚ 🥐・₊✧ ホットチョコレート

[justjams2003]

The Desire to be Loved- 6

Summary: Love is Desire's first creation. As Cupid she shoots her arrows of love and rips them from people's hearts too. Occasionally, shooting a soulmate arrow. What does she do when her first Soulmate arrow in 100 years is between Cupid and Dream?

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x OFC Love/Cupid/Venus (you know how these beings have millions of names) (Also technically it could be an x reader because love is sort of anthropomorphic but in this story a she)

Warnings: Manipulation, threats, crying, cliffhanger, unedited, kind of like enemies to lovers, soulmate au, angst :(tell me if I miss any.

Word count: 1,8k+

Dividers by: @hyelita

Tags: @intothesoul @briskesby coffeebeforewater @i-voluntears @dreamingblueberries @idkamt @deniixlovezelda @lmg-stilinski24

Masterlist

The plane engine is loud in Lyta’s ears, but luckily everyone else is quiet, sleeping, trying to adjust to the difference in air pressure. Lyta doesn’t care, she’s too happy to turn her head to the side and smile, seeing her husband. “Maybe a trip to England is exactly what she needs.” His voice is just like she remembers. Even the way he speaks is the same.  

“She's sleeping. So, that's progress.” His brows furrow in the way Lyta’s made sure to memorise. “She hasn't been sleeping?” He cares so much, he cared so much. “No.” She sighs, her eyes fluttering, trying to keep him here as long as possible. Her heart fighting her mind. 

“She's been dealing with her mom's estate, trying to find her brother. Doing whatever she has to do to keep from thinking about the fact that she's all alone now.” He lifts his head looking at the sleeping girl, who’s been struggling to let go just as much as Lyta. 

He’s quick to disagree with her. “She’s not though.” Lyta tilts her head to the side, giving her husband a pointed look. “No, I know. And friends are great, but, uh…” She fumbles with her hands trying to explain what she means. As if interrupting her own ideal imagination. 

“What?” Her eyes fall to her hands, his tongue wetting his lips from the dry aeroplane air. “When you lose your parents, you suddenly realize it wasn't gravity keeping you on the ground all this time. It was knowing you were someone's daughter. Or sister. Or wife, in my case.” 

Lyta’s eyes snap to him, and suddenly the hurt is there again. She’s not his anymore. She’s not for anyone anymore. Friends aren’t forever like being someone’s everything. A friend always has an in-between plan that suddenly comes before you that lets you know forever is a lie. Hector feels the hurt then again too. He knows it wasn’t his choice, but he can’t help but apologise. 

“How are you? Are you okay?” Lyta chuckles at that question, her hands running through her hair. “Probably not.” Then Hector has to realise, he can’t be here. He can’t be talking to her. He can’t let her know that she’ll always be his. “Why do you say that?” The panic is like a piano in a heavy metal song. 

Then there it is for her too. The synth wave in this classical music dream that she’s concocted for herself. The hitch in her throat, the barbed wire that stops her from allowing the truth inside her. “Cause instead of being back at work, I'm on a plane to London, talking to my dead husband.” 

“Ma’am, ma’am?” It’s gone. It’s replaced by the sight of a girl who looks to be on the younger side by the way her cheeks round and her eyes sparkle. “I’m so sorry to bother you.” Her voice too, it matches her glittering apologetic smile beautifully. Her eyes focus, the overhead lights make her look like an angel looking down at her. 

She doesn’t stop smiling, trying to seem as approachable as possible. Her heart is fluttering with excitement, seeing Lyta finally able to see her. “Um, some guy just puked on my seat while I went to the bathroom...And, I feel so horrible to ask...” 

Then, the beautiful young girl looks at the seat next to Lyta. But, not at the seat. At the person Lyta just dreamt of sitting there. “Would you mind if I sat next to you, while they clean my seat?” As if she’s asking him and not her and Lyta feels like she’s going crazy. How could this stranger possibly be asking her ghost husband anything? 

But it looks so real. She smiles like she’s thanking someone without words and then eyes like the gold of her wedding ring fall back on her. And Lyta feels her heart palpitate in a way that someone her age shouldn’t. She sits upright and nods, “Yeah, yeah, sure, of course.” She mutters, stumbling over her words as she climbs out of the trance. 

“Thank you, thank you so much.” The young girl sits down to Lyta. She gets comfortable, sighing just like she’s seen the humans do. “I’ve never been on a plane before.” Lyta can’t help but furrow her brows at the wording but she doesn’t say anything about it. Maybe English isn’t her first language. 

“I won’t bother you, you can sleep.” It feels wrong and rude to sleep now. And something in Lyta so badly wants to talk with the girl some more. “No, no, it’s alright. So uh, London, what’s calling you there?” Lyta asks the first thing she can think of. The girl presses her lips together before she answers, clearly having to think about it. 

“Let’s say I’m meeting a new friend. And you?” Lyta looks over the girl to Rose who’s sleeping in her plane seat. “My friend, she’s looking for her little brother who went missing. I thought I could help.” The girl’s eyes go sympathetic, but there’s just something all-knowing behind them. 

She smiles, looks at Rose and then back to Lyta. “Oh, that’s beautiful.” Her eyes flick to the ring on Lyta’s finger. “You’re married?” She asks, but not in the way where she wants to know but as if she already does. “I was...my husband passed.” 

The girl, once again as if she already knew this. “It’s hard for the living to stop loving the dead. The humans love the hardest when they know they have to let go...” Again the girl tilts her head. But this time she smiles, like she’s making Lyta realise something. “But you don’t let go...I’m worried about your heart.” 

It should be the ramblings of a crazy woman, but it isn’t because she’s right. Lyta just doesn’t let go. She sees him when she sleeps when she opens her eyes. Cupid’s seen this happen to so many lovers before and it always ends in their heart being damaged. But now...now she can warn them. She can talk to them. 

“It’s going to hurt. But it’s going to leave a scar if you hold on.” Lyta just sits there staring at her. It’s like a profit speaking to her. Others have told her this before but she just doesn’t want to believe it. The way she speaks, the wisdom behind her eyes, the way she knows without knowing her... 

It feels too real. It feels hard to breathe in and even harder to breathe out. To let the air escape her because that’s all she’ll have left of this beautiful stranger who speaks to her heart. It feels like it’s exploding and her lungs are so full. Her gasps for air, force the tears from her eyes. 

Lyta shakes her head. “I can’t.” She wants to beg the stranger. Don’t make her forget. Don’t make her lose him again. But, what does this stranger have to do with her dead husband? “Did you...lose your partner too? You speak like you know.” 

She chuckles, wiping the tears from her cheek. “No, no. I’ve just seen it happen each time. It hurts me like it does you.” Is this beautiful stranger crying too? Crying with her? Crying for her? Crying because she has to, she has to cry because Lyta is hurt. 

They both just laugh, how silly. Crying with a stranger over nothing and everything on a plane full of sleeping people. Lyta wipes her tears off, again with another chuckle. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” The girl shakes her head as if she’s apologising. “I have to go.” 

“Lyta. Let go.” 

The sun shines down on Cupid’s back as she lounges on the beach in her bikini. She knows she should be busy, but it’s just such a lovely day out. And she is where she’s supposed to be. Following the one she worries about most. And she can’t find herself to worry about much else. 

She used the realm Dream gifted her, to make herself a few helpers. Not many. Just enough to carry out the minor tasks while she’s away. She won’t let them handle the soulmates, that’s too precious. But for now, her duties should be covered.  

But she can feel her as soon as she walks on the beach. She lowers her sunglasses to get a good look. An excited smile plays on her face. A friend of a friend. She’s quick to jump up, just as quick back in her normal puffy pink dress. No reaction from the humans, they can’t see. 

Her eyes follow Rose Walker like a hawk, who leaves her darkly dressed friend on the beach. She follows after, using her abilities to not struggle through the sand in her usual white boots. The girl bends over to talk with a bird. No one else seems to notice this. But someone else does seem to notice her, more someones than she knows... 

“Why are you talking to a bird?” She’s just a bit shorter than Rose Walker, even with her shoes. The girl is startled, quickly trying to cover. Cupid knows well that humans cannot talk to animals. “I-I, I wasn’t.” She furrows her brows, her bottom lip jutting out. “Yes, yes you were.” She tilts her head, looking down at Matthew. “That one.” 

Matthew recognises the girl instantly. He wants to speak, to call out to her and ask for help but his master holds his beak. Dream’s mind is already brewing with possibilities and plans. "Who are you?” Rose asks, realising that while she is breathtaking, she is a stranger. She holds out her hand, “I’m a friend of Lyta’s. We met on the plane.” 

Rose’s face seems to light up in recognition. “You’re real...?” Cupid’s heart beats in panic at the thought of being caught. No humans have ever seen her knowing who she is. And these two are the first she decided to talk to. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Rose just can’t stop staring. 

The light from the sunshine day falls on her making her look like that painting of the birth of Venus is talking to her in person. “I mean...you’re just so...” She can’t quite find the words. It’s like in the movies where the main character always has wind gently caressing their hair. 

From the very deep depths of Cupid’s mind like an old church bell that’s been hit for the first time in a hundred years, she hears his voice. Rough and deep and everywhere in her mind. “Cupid.” It’s like the first time he heard him speak to her. She’s jarred and it looks like she’s been knocked off balance. 

“Woah, are you alright?” Rose asks, instinctively reaching out to grab her, but Cupid is quick to catch herself. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry. I’m suddenly just a bit dizzy.” She mutters, holding her head, trying to play it cool. Matthew watches, his head tilted. “I think, I should go home, have a lie down.” She mutters, beginning to walk off in any distance that will hide her from Rose quick enough. 

Matthew thinks on his feet, or talons. “Morpheus will be there tonight.” Rose nods then makes her way back to Hal and Matthew to find Cupid. “Are you alright? What happened?” She’s leaning against a corner, still shaken by the sudden intrusion in her mind. How did he do that?  

“He called my name. I felt him almost in my mind.” The raven jumps around a bit. It’s like Dream is leaning over his eyes. Ready to crawl up his throat and talk to her himself. “Come, I’ll accompany you to him. I think the boss wants to see you.”  

If you want to be added to the taglist, just ask!

Part 5~Part 7 (coming soon)

[justjams2003]

Hello it's my birthday 🥳 Say happy birthday 🤨

[justjams2003]

Hello all my wonderful people and followers! So I am currently on vacation. And this would usually be the time where I get all my ideas out and write day and night. But unfortunately I am really struggling with my chronic pain at the moment. However I promise as soon as I feel better I'll be writing up a storm.

In the meantime if you want to support me and miss me so much I do have a book out on GoodNovel: The Forgotten King.

Which story would you guys liked updated first? I'm thinking... Sweet Savagery? But I know I'm keeping the Blossoms girlies in the dark😭 They are desperate for an update... Any wish, hopefully this flare-up will be gone soon 🫡😭👏