rudie-wr1tes

[rudie-wr1tes]

Forgive me if I’m mistaken, but to the darling who was trying to message me about my writing, please feel free to ask me! My dms should be open. I found the notification on my phone but they’re nowhere to be seen on my end! Please don’t be shy!!!

[rudie-wr1tes]

Dark Side of the Moon

Jake Lockley X "I" f!reader

Word Count: 3k +

Tags: SFW, domestic fluff, pregnancy mentioned. Established marriage between the reader and the Moon Knight system. Romance, protective Jake Lockley being a soft girl dad (melting), tending to hottie's wounds.

I've yapped about this years ago on another account of mine and felt brave enough to post about it. It's cute ash, different AU from my last fanfic for Jake :3 I blushed a lot while editing this...

I had grown accustomed to the presence of my husbands in the same body. Steven, my first love. The sweet-eyed, gentle, and funny gift shop clerk who went on tangents about ancient Egyptian history over coffee. Then it was Marc, who I fell deeper for and worshiped. A stubborn, strong, and calculated man who put others before himself. Both phases of the same beautiful face, but only one remained uncharted. 

The dark side of my moon- Jake Lockley.

The cold-blooded killer, the brute, the one who took over to fight. Loose descriptions came in coded messages to me from both my loves in conversation. His presence is even rarer around me. In the first instance, he was there, I couldn’t help but feel I was sharing a bed with a stranger, his presence cold and distant. Come morning, his half of the bed was empty. I found him on the couch fast asleep. And when the sun rose, Marc did too, and greeted me with apologies and tender kisses, begging for my forgiveness. 

And I was okay with that. I didn’t expect anything from him. I had two loves in my life that doted on me away from mission work. As long as Jake guaranteed their safety, I was okay with being strangers. 

This urgency grew stronger once I found out I was pregnant. 

We were thrilled. It was Marc who lay with me when I conceived. After two weeks away together, we were blessed with twins. He lifted me by my waist and held me in the air, praising me. In another phase, Steven wept tears of joy and wouldn’t stop kissing my stomach. That crusty old bird of a god tried to keep us apart, but the two were crafty enough with their words to get time away for Steven to be home just in time for Hanukkah. I’d be due three weeks following. The second time Jake appeared, it had me worried for the remainder of the year. 

I was fifteen weeks along, assuming I’d have Steven or Marc returning to me. On a whim, I had decided to slip into something sexier. A lacey, black, frilly thing with a matching thong and silk robe. I checked the mirror and cradled my small bump, fixing a crease in my reddened lips. Candles cast a warm glow onto the room, and I smiled at myself in satisfaction. 

“Your daddies are almost home, darlings.” I said warmly, “Mind your head.” 

I snorted at my own terrible joke but stopped at the sound of a key turning in my front door’s lock. I gasped and scuttled over to the bed, sitting at the edge. My hand found the remote to dim the lights, letting some soft music play in the background. Arousal filled me as the door creaked open. I turned my head away, pretending to act demure.

The door shut with a low click. 

At first, I thought it was Steven with how much gentleness was in the shut. 

“Who’s there?” I joked, smiling, “Is that you, daddy?” 

No response. I heard all seven locks on the door click with quick hands. Something else was bottled beneath the handle. 

I waited, straining to listen for another noise. A jacket was hung on the coat rack, but it fell to a crumpled heap against the floor. 

“... Everything alright, darling?” 

 More silence. 

Footsteps fell against the hardwood, and I saw the shell of my husband pass by the doorway without looking at me once. His eyes were glazed over, expressionless, and dim. Fatigue slumped on his shoulders. 

“Oh shit.” I said softly, “Jake? Is that you?” 

I quickly wrapped the silk robe around myself and waddled after him, attempting to maintain some form of distance. He dared not to enter the master bathroom, but instead walked towards the first aid kit in the water closet down the hall. 

“Oye.” I said softly, “Jake, mirame. Mirame, por favor.” 

I noticed his shirt. The black fabric was caked against his skin, a sticky substance curling its way up to his neck and behind his ears, in his hair. My stomach turned suddenly, as I realized why the pungent smell of iron filled my nose. 

He was covered in blood. His own, or someone else’s, I couldn’t tell. 

Jake turned to me slowly then. There was a yellowed bandage over the bridge of his nose. His blackened eyes stared through me, as he swallowed hard. A cut over his brow bled profusely into his lashes. There was a split on his lip and a hand pressed to his side. Nothing deadly, but enough for bloodshed. My heart sank at the sight of him. He grimaced, barely managing to even look below my eyeline. 

“Deberías irte a dormir ahora.” Jake said in an unreadable tone, before turning into the bathroom. I knew what was coming next. A door shut in my face and a cold bed. I took a chance and grabbed his wrist. 

He flinched then, turning back at me with widened eyes. I placed my hand over his wrist and shook my head. 

“Estás seguro aquí conmigo querido.” I said, holding a sob in the back of my throat, “Promento.” 

Jake sighed heavily, his eyes soon looking down to my stomach. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to put the pieces together. 

“... Cuántos meses?” Jake gruffed, his hand not yet grabbing onto mine. I smiled back at him and led him to our room. 

“Quince semanas.” I said warmly, despite my heart racing a million miles an hour, 

“Vamos a limpiarte en nuestra habitación. Hay más espacio para nosotros allí.”

Jake exhaled a low breath, as I imagined him calculating how long it had been since we last spoke. Or lack thereof. 

“Ellas son del tamaño de mangos ahora.” I mentioned, pausing the music with one hand. Thankfully the candles in our bedroom had short wicks. Jake’s eyes glanced over to the bed, but he didn’t comment. 

“¿Ellos son?” He muttered to himself. 

“Si, gemelas.” I replied, running the hot water, “Las niñas están sanas, el médico se sorprendió de cómo... ¿Cómo se dice?” 

I turned around, and he was gone. I clicked my tongue and shook my head. 

“Aaaaaaaaand he’s gone.” 

His footsteps shuffled faster back into the bathroom with a large bag in his hands. 

“No, I never leave.” He said sternly, flicking the plastic bag open loudly, “Limpiaste los pisos demasiado bien para que yo los arruine.” 

I laughed a little. It’s not what he said, it’s the way he said it. He almost appeared shocked at my statement. We stayed there until every bandage was on his face, and every drop of blood was scrubbed off. Midnight lingered closer, as I slipped into something more comfortable. I yawned, watching him in the mirror reflection brush his teeth. His eyes glanced at his reflection- the boys were talking to him, what their conversation was, I hadn’t a clue. I was too sleepy to say anything more, curling up on my side. 

The lights clicked off, and the only light came from the moon peeking from our blackout curtains. I yawned, trying to find some sort of comfort in the nest of pillows above the mattress. 

He walked past me, I assumed, to the couch. But he didn’t. I lay on my side facing the window, watching him crawl in to face me. 

His dark eyes were half-lidded with fatigue as he settled in the bed beside me, making quick work of the covers, barely leaving any for himself, the rest to me. Jake’s damp curls pressed against the pillow. I smiled at him, seeing pale light form over the side of his face, the other half concealed in shadows. Even when he was a bit grouchy, it still made me happy to see him. He flopped back on the bed, nearly launching me off my end just to fluff up his pillow. He muttered in annoyance about Steven’s big head squishing it inward, leaving his neck stiff. There was so much more I wanted to say in the moment until he spoke again.

“No te acostumbres.” Jake uttered, sniffing loudly, “Dejé que me bañaras, ahora necesitas dormir.” I hummed, wrapping my arm around under my pillow, still looking at him. 

“¿Qué? ¿Por qué me estás mirando?” Jake asked in an annoyed tone. My dangerously sleep-deprived self started laughing.  

“Creo que nuestras chicas tendrán tu ceño fruncido.” I scrunched my nose, imitating his furrowed brow. Jake scoffed, turning around to face away from me. He pouted then, not saying anything else to me. 

“Ay….Cálmate, estaba bromeando.” I said softly, “Me gusta. Me gusta en ti-” 

“Ve a dormir.” Jake said coolly. 

My smile faded. I would’ve turned around, but it was less comfortable on that end of the mattress. I wasn’t sure if it was hormones or fatigue, but I felt tears well in my eyes. He wasn’t looking for tenderness, and I feared saying anything more would make him go to the couch. I desperately wanted to reach out and wrap my arms around him, kiss him, anything. But only words could comfort him now. 

“Gracias por volver a mi.”

Jake’s gaze narrowed back over me, drinking in the sight of me in darkness. His eyes softened. His hands were calloused, shifted away from your touch in hopes he’d harm you, the way he used them to draw blood for an ancient old bird. 

“Buenas noches.” He uttered, turning away from me, as I drifted off to sleep. 

An hour or two passed as we fell asleep, and a gentle rain had fallen over the house. My sleep was tainted with odd, realistic dreams. It began a week prior, supposedly normal, but the madness was interrupted by a loud bang. I flinched awake with a gasp, looking up for the source. Jake shot up, his shadow covering me, with a knife in hand. I hadn’t even noticed him tucking it beneath his pillow. His free hand, instinctually, pressed against my stomach, protecting me and our girls.

“¡Qué mierda?!” Jake growled, searching in the darkness for a threat that wasn’t there.

“Baby, baby…” I muttered without thinking, “Mírame. Jake- It was a car.” I said groggily, “Darling- Er-” I cleared my throat, “Era un coche-” 

Jake exhaled and shook his head, “I can’t do this.” 

His hand was slipping away from my stomach, making my heart sink. 

“¿Adónde vas?” I asked in a panicked voice, “Por favor quédate-” 

Jake shook his head, grabbing a shirt from the chest of drawers across the room. Tears began to fill my eyes. He wasn’t running because he was angry. It was because he was scared shitless. I rose from the bed, following him. 

“Me voy a otro lugar donde pueda dormir en paz.” Jake stammered, “I can’t be this for you. You have Steven, and Marc, isn’t that enough?!” 

Tears began rolling down my face as I took his hands in mine. A familiar fluttering of two pairs of feet rippled through my center, as I placed his hands on my belly. Jake froze, the whites of his eyes growing wider at the feeling. 

“You have every right to be here as they do.” I sniffled, “They know who you are. I’ve told them. I told them you fight for what you love. For who you love. We’re all here, baby. Nothing’s gonna hurt us. Just please, please don’t leave me alone tonight.” 

I sniffled loudly, pressing his hand into my skin. Kicks rolled beneath his palm, and a heavy sigh left his lips. Jake’s gaze went down to the life inside of me. I folded, a combination of hormones, fatigue, and fear, as my head rested against his shoulder. He remained frozen, not returning my embrace. 

“I’ve loved you, Jake.” I said, “Please, don’t leave. I always have. You deserve to feel safe here. I promise nothing here will hurt us.” 

Jake’s eyes fluttered shut, as I felt the weight of his head press against mine. He wrapped his arms around me, a shuddering breath signaling tears. He wou;dn’t admit crying in the moment, despite the snap of them falling in his words. 

“I believe you, querida.” His voice cracked, “I won’t go anywhere. I’m right here, no llores. Por favor? No llores, querida.” 

His hands ran through my hair, rubbing my back in circles.

It took me a few moments to collect myself after his words, as we walked side by side to bed together. We exchanged little words after that, drifting into a dreamless sleep. I only remember how he felt then, covering my womb with his hand, and spooning me from behind. He snored softly on his side, and that’s when I knew it was going to be okay. 

I woke up that next morning to Marc, who comforted me in ways Jake was unable to express himself in. He was angry, but I wasn’t. It was the most Jake had ever spoken to me. I didn't anticipate hearing from him long after the girls were born. 

I was wrong. 

Two nights before Hanukkah, I received word my love would be home. Out of excitement, I planned an entire feast at home. However, that turned out to be easier said than done- one sheet, everything gets baked. Doesn’t get easier than that, right? Wrong. 

Brain fog made me forget to start a timer, and by the time I finished getting ready, the smoke alarm was enough to remind me that I royally burned everything to a crisp. 

I waddled around, fanning the stench of burned food out of the kitchen, trying to withhold tears. He wouldn’t mind- whoever I came home to, they would understand and probably get takeaway. After months apart, takeaway sounded infuriating. I inhaled loudly, fanning smoke away from the alarm, the noise so blaring I hadn’t noticed the usual clink and groan of the front door opening, or my husband watching me with a hand against the wall, waiting for me to notice he was there. 

And when I did, I flinched. He was less a ghost of a man when our eyes met. His sharp, dark eyes creased into a tender smile. A part of his nose scrunched beneath another fresh bandage across its bridge. He drops his bag, placing his hands on his hips. He was here. He was banged up and bruised, but he was alive. In his hands, he had a bouquet of white lilies under one arm. My heart began to sing at the very sight. We’d have a few months of bliss before he would leave again. Suddenly, dinner didn’t matter anymore. My precious cargo arrived before the holiday season. 

“Baby!” I exclaimed, “You’re home! You’re here- a lot sooner! I-” 

I waddled up to him and wrapped him in my arms. He held me tightly as if I was life itself, a warm chuckle reverberating through him. 

“Ay, pobrecita. ¿Qué pasó aquí?” Jake mused, “I come in and you nearly burn the house down.” 

I laughed nervously, trying to speak my way through the discomfort of much larger babies fluttering and kicking inside of me, “I’m so sorry. I totally fucked up dinner, I was trying to do something special for us and…. God, I’m running on my last brain cells. They need to get out… And…How long have you been standing there?” 

“Ehhh….” Jake sucked his teeth, “About a minute, really.” 

I hid my face and shook my head, as he cooed. 

“My poor mami, come here then…”

Jake pulled me in by my waistline into a passionate kiss, the kind that hits straight to my core, making the girls leap and flutter as well. My eyes closed shut, kissing back softly as my arms wrapped around his neck. There are notes of iron and cologne in the kiss, his lips soft and tender. Jake pressed his lips to mine, over and over again, soon pepering my face in even smaller, more ticklish kisses, making me giggle. 

He knelt down with a grunt, sighing. 

“Sí, sí, te escucho,” Jake said in a higher-pitched voice, placing his gloved hands on my even larger bump. He pressed his forehead against my skin, as I ran my hands through his hair.

“There you are, my three favorite girls.” He cooed, pulling up my sweater to kiss my bare skin, noting a faint bruise on my stomach, “Ay, no. Have they been giving you trouble?” 

“No!” I laughed, “That’s not from them, it’s something else I bumped into. I have zero spatial awareness.” Blush fell over my cheeks, unable to contain my excitement, “They’ve been waiting for you. Four more weeks.” 

Jake let out a low whistle of approval, “Perfecto.” 

His smile was so tender upon you, as he rose to his feet. 

“I hope they have your smile.” You say softly, “I want to see them in you.” 

Jake shook his head, “Eh, not my mug. I want them to take after you anyways.” 

“Why’s that?” I asked, tilting my head. 

“Because.” Jake pouted, “No more questions. I have something for you.” 

He held up a bouquet of white lilies in newsprint, their fragrance filling my nose. I smiled giddily, holding them close. 

“I couldn’t come home empty-handed.” Jake pressed another kiss to my cheek, “I mean, especially after last time…” 

“They’re beautiful, my dear.” I grinned. He began to squint at my carnage concealed by a worn-out dish towel. I dropped my shoulders, surveying the mess. He hummed, wrapping his arms around me, beneath my stomach. 

“A ver…” Jake said, “It can’t be that bad, baby. Hmm?” 

I shook my head, snickering, “Jake, I adore you, but it’s terrible, please don't look at it.” 

“Come on!” Jake insisted, “What, a little more sauce, some tortillas, and-” 

I peeled the dishcloth away to reveal the charred mess of chicken and vegetables. Jake ate his own words, his lower lip quivering. 

“See!” I began to wheeze, tears filling my eyes, “I told you it was bad!” 

“No!” He crooned, “No it’s not-” 

I began laughing, unable to stop giggling as he stuttered. 

“Well, you didn’t burn all of it-” Jake said, trying not to laugh, “I mean, look at this piece of chicken here-” 

It was more ash than meat at that point, the sensation of it crumbling taking us both out. My face felt hot, as I was laughing. Jake boisterously cackled, hugging me tighter to keep me from falling back. 

“I fucking told you!” I wheezed, pressing myself into him, “Fucking hell, I’m sorry, baby-” 

“My poor mess.” Jake mused, coughing, “Here… Tell you what, I can make dinner.” 

He looked exhausted, a familiar shade of purple falling beneath his eyes. 

“Darling.” I pleaded, “I don’t mind calling for takeout.” 

“Eh!” He scoffed, “What does anyone know about cooking? No one needs to come to bother us at the house and marvel at the burned…. Erm… Glazed smell that graces these halls.” 

I cackled, shaking my head, “Well, what are you gonna do?” 

Jake kissed my forehead, before pulling my kitchen chair over. 

“You keep me company, and we can figure it out. You bring ideas, I’ll make it. What do you want, querida? Dime.” 

I slowly parked myself into the cushioned chair, only thinking of one thing I hadn’t had in months. 

“Tostadas.” I smiled, “The girls and I want tostadas.” 

He nodded, “That’s my girl. It’s done!” 

He proceeded to keep me from lifting a finger, finding what we had in the fridge, thankfully was plenty enough for us both. With each burner activated on the stove, I watched him work as he stripped off his shirt to only the white tank top beneath. He spoke to me tenderly, loose details about missions, catching glances of me to smile or chase me away from helping. His attention perked at the sight of me adjusting my breasts in the maternity bra, making me wonder what would happen later in the evening. 

The dark side of my moon made its new phase, but I wasn’t afraid of the darkness any longer. That quiet darkness, with an unfiltered laugh and protective hands until dawn, kept all sense of fear I had before gone for good. 

[rudie-wr1tes]

I’m going feral. You know what? I’m finishing my Eddie Munson fanfic. Idgaf anymore. I am cringe but I am free.

[rudie-wr1tes]

Besos De Fuego

Jake Lockley X Y/N F!reader (And totally not a self-indulgent piece)

Word Count: 8k+ (It is never that serious, but then again, it's my baby daddy we're talking about)

Warnings/Tags: NSFW, 18+. Some cursing. Alcohol usage. Rich daddy's girl x bodyguard dynamic and sexual tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Steamy makeout session, dry humping, cumming in pants.

Full disclosure, I've been chicken to post all my smuts, but while summer keeps me from work, I might as well. I am also trying to work on my relationship with learning Spanish, so if there are any corrections I need to make, please let me know. :) Might also write a part two, just LMK! Have fun with my goodies under the Keep Reading tab!

Saturdays always included too many drinks and dancing till sunrise with your girlfriends. You’d hop between your local haunts and turn out on the floor like no one was watching. Like clockwork, you’d sneak away into dark corners with handsome strangers. The faces varied, where the night would take you both was as much of a wild card. You liked living dangerously that way. 

You’d end up in their car, sometimes their place or yours. It was a game to you, simply put. Once the sun rose, it was like nothing happened. You’d grab your clothes off the floor and creep back into your father’s highrise early enough for a shower and breakfast with your father and his pestering questions. 

Tonight was different for several reasons. You needed to put on a show of having it all, feigning formality for the elites. Your least favorite thing. Champagne wouldn’t be enough to drone out the insufferable conversations between your father’s business partners. 

However, no amount of previous  routine would ever prepare you for the lap you’d fall into tonight. Let alone, in the lap of your personal bodyguard. 

At midnight, you found yourself straddling the lap of Jake Lockley, as his brutal hands braced on your hips, slipping beneath the fabric of your dress, as if he was so afraid to lose you. You felt their bruising grip pinch into your skin. His fingertips, capable of so much brutality, pressed into your thighs and hips with immense pressure.

This was the same Jake Lockely that couldn’t stand being in the same room as you, kissing you so intensely you could barely breathe. His lips tasted as if heaven was full of tobacco and spearmint fields. Your lips returned each kiss with a desperate sort of hunger. Behind your eyes, you traced his stubbled jawline in perfect darkness from memory alone, as you held him in your space. The sensation of his hands running up your waist made you gasp. You pulled away a moment, gasping for breath. You looked down at the seat beneath you, realizing that his damned flat cap had fallen off from all the action. It was the only thing you could focus on, as your trembling hands smoothed the new wrinkles on his shirt collar. Your heart raced as you observed his swollen lower lip, stained with your dark red lipstick. Questions were clouding your thoughts at this entire affair, feeling yourself fall deeper as you loomed over him. Jake’s gloved hand gripped onto your chin, pulling you to face him. 

His partially obscured face was no longer a mask of intimidation, as he too, was breathless. You made the rookie mistake of pulling away too soon. Your head was spinning, making you feel dizzier than any mixed drink you had the entire night. 

“Don’t stop now.” Jake demanded, barely able to catch his breath.

The demand feinged an intimidating front, but you saw right through it. Jake was unfurling before you, and fell gentler on your ears like a prayer in the night, his final plea as if he feared losing you forever. A ghost of a smile shimmered over his lips, as his rich eyes looked deeply into yours. 

“Are you scared, y/n?” He asked you again. His mismatched pupils seemed to twitch and ebb in delight at the sight of you. It was like staring into a roaring fire seconds from consuming you. 

“I won’t.” you said in response, “I won’t stop.” 

And to think, this whole incident started over a goddamn dress. 

Your father was in bouts of legal trouble, to no one’s surprise. There were connections and business ventures he had that you took initiative to never find out about. This was yet another consequence, but things were getting serious again. 

The first time, it was your mother. You were the last flower in his life left. Your brothers were busy in the Miami and New York branches, and it was just you two in London. 

England was a far cry from the California sunsets you grew accustomed to. Romping around Europe wasn’t a complete punishment- at least, not until someone had attempted to take you for ransom. 

Enter Jake Lockley. 

He crept into your life as easily as fog on a London morning. You protested any way you tried to your father, but it was clear this was nothing he’d change his mind about. Jake’s entire purpose was to protect you, and you alone. And he made sure every second to remind you of that. 

Your friends were terrified of him, and he was a buzzkill on girls night’s out. Not to mention that men turned the other way the second he made his presence known. 

And there was no doubt in  your mind that he terrified you too. 

Upon your first meeting, the alarm bells rang in your mind that he wasn’t just some fool off Craig’s list. 

He was injured. There was a bandage on his nose, a few scuffs on his cheeks. Scars riddled his neck from previous fights. It was the only time he removed that fucking flat hat, to introduce himself to you. He had a head of thick black curls that were pushed back with almost a little too much gel. You wondered how his hair looked without any of that crap in it, wondering about the man beneath it. He looked like an extra bruiser from Goodfellas with that get-up. You smirked, wondering if you could shop for him to at least look the part of being YOUR guard (which never seemed to work out.) The Spanish you remembered using only a handful of times in adolescence came through, as you shook his gloved hand. Jake’s near black eyes bore into your soul, making you shift your weight uncomfortably in your legs, making you walk faster away from the first meeting. 

Blood was roaring in your ears. You could’ve sworn you smelled it on your hands after shaking his hand, something metallic mixed in with the leather. 

“It’s from his steering wheel.” your father had reassured you, “He’s a limo driver and uses them often.” 

Your father’s eyes darted as he said these words. There was no doubt that Jake was a dangerous man. A stubborn one, at that. 

You were irritated at the beginning of the summer, that he was so adamant on keeping you out of the best parties of Europe’s elite. You remember being so angry with him, you threw a vase at his head, but the son of a bitch caught it. And not only that… He laughed. And that pissed you off even more.

But in the end, you always got your way, much to his demise. As far as you knew, he saw you as a spoiled brat with daddy’s money burning a hole in your pocket. And you made sure to revel in it every second you fought about it. There was one little vein on his forehead that would pulsate if you really ground his gears. It made you laugh, a sadistic way. On other days, the pendulum would swing in his direction, and he’d be the one to piss you off. 

Tonight was sadly not in your favor. Your father was an hour away from landing to meet you at the gala.

“Making an impression.” Was always his philosophy. You rolled your eyes at the thought, wondering if you could fake an illness to get out of it. 

Just hours before the gala, you were carefully picking an outfit for the night. The television buzzed from the other room, in the shared high rise between yourself, Jake, and your father.. Sometimes Jake watched the tv below, but you knew he never really watched. You knew it was to make some noise. And you weren’t particular on speaking to him. Not after he tried talking you out of going out five times. 

And yet, you got your way. 

You sorted through your dresses, clicking your tongue. Out of the shockingly short frocks that made Jake’s eye twitch, there  were three potentials- a black vintage Christian Dior, a sapphire blue halter, and a scarlet satin dress. You hummed to yourself, weighing each option on the bed. Music played from the tv below, a melody from Pete Rodriguez you knew from memory. If there was one thing about Jake, it was his music taste. His fixation on classics was not lost on you, and the last thing you’d think to complain about. 

As you bent down to find your red bottom heels, there was a knock on the door. 

That single, solid knock. Jake’s fist, in that glove again. 

“Que paso?” You hummed, flipping your hair up to look back at him. 

Jake wasn’t wearing his hat, or his overcoat for once. He looked as if he was in the middle of ironing his usual button down, wearing nothing but a white tank top with his usual slacks. His muscular, tanned arms stood out to you. You were so used to seeing them covered up, it felt nearly illegal to see him in this state. Dare you say, he was almost relaxed? 

“Estás casi listo?” Jake asked in a rushed tone. 

You raised your brow, “Do I look ready, Jake?” 

The resting expression of annoyance graced his face, per usual. 

“¿Quién viene esta noche?” Jake asked in a neutral tone, leaning on the doorway. 

“Claudia no puede ir. Tiene gripe estomacal o algo así. En cuanto a Anna, tiene planes. Así que por ahora son sólo Taylor y Giselle.” 

“Bueno.” Jake nodded, nodding, “Y Sebastian?” 

“Sebastian?” You asked, “Está en California, ¿recuerdas?” 

Jake let out an annoyed sigh. The resting frown on his face made it all the more difficult to tell his tone. 

“¿Cuál es tu problema con él? No ha hecho nada para lastimarme.” You said, putting your hands on your hips. 

“No puedes confiar en él.” Jake spoke in a serious tone, “No tiene tus mejores intereses en el corazón.” 

You let out a dry, bitter laugh. 

“What do you know about my heart?” You remarked, turning your back to him, “You only know how to stomp out my desires with those big ass feet.”  

“He’s using you.” Jake said aloud, “Haven’t you seen it by now?”  

You froze as if someone poured ice cold water down your spine. 

“... So he does speak English.” you observed aloud, before turning to meet him, “Don’t tell me you’ve known the whole time.” 

“And where’s the fun in that?” Jake asked snidely, “What if I like the idea of you torturing yourself over all the shit talking you’ve done about me to your little friends?” 

You laughed, running your hand over your mouth. There was that irritating gleam of amusement in his eyes, shining on the surface like onyx. 

“Besides, your Spanish needed improvement.” Jake recalled, a subtle accent still lingering on his lips. 

“Nevermind that.” you replied, “What did you mean about Sebastian? Not having my best interests?” 

“Y/N, you’ll need to trust me on this. He’s not a good person.” He said, “I’ve seen how he treats others around you, do you really think you’ll be an exception?” 

“I don’t care if I’m his exception.” You shook your head, “We’re only friends and I plan to keep it that way. Besides, he hasn't been quick to make a call. What makes you suddenly suspicious?” 

“Just keep it in mind.” Jake waved his hand outward, “Anyone who’s a little too interested in your family affairs isn’t to be trusted.”

“Okay!” You huffed, “Main point is, he isn’t even in the fucking country! He should be miles and miles away. So don’t lose your mind over it, allright?!”

The fact he wasn’t elaborating with concrete evidence  immediately raised a red flag in the back of your mind. He knew something you didn’t. And you hated that. 

“Is that all?” you asked, your tone coarse.

“For now.” Jake replied, “You're getting something to eat beforehand, right?” 

“The gala has a dinner, so no…”  you asked, “Why, were you thinking of joining us?” 

You only felt inclined to include him, it was the least you could do after he spent an entire summer dealing with you. 

“I’m not hungry.” Jake replied, crossing his arms, “ But thank you, y/n. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t have an incident from an empty stomach after-” 

“Oh my god.” You groaned, “Don’t remind me! I swear I won’t spew in your limo again. It’s not that kind of party tonight.” 

Jake put his hands up as if he were held at gunpoint, looking down, “I just barely got the stain out myself, can’t say you’d blame me for asking.” 

Your ears were feeling hot- either from embarrassment or the curls that were setting in your hair. 

“Is that it?” You asked again, your tone a little more irritated than before. 

“Yeah.” Jake nodded, “I’ll let you be.” 

“Please.” You begged through a tightened jaw, covering yourself tighter within the feather trimmed robe around your waist. You turned away from him quickly, storming back to your vanity. Your face was looking flushed already, the mere presence of him seemed to trigger such a rage. 

You huffed a sigh, sitting down at the vanity to begin your makeup for the night. In the reflection, you saw Jake still standing there. Why was he still there? 

He hesitated to speak at first, looking at the dresses on your bed. You started putting on makeup primer, watching intently as he observed your picks for himself. You shook your head in annoyance. 

“See anything you like?” you asked flatly, “Or are you here just to torment me a little more with your questions?” 

He observed them, brushing his hand across his chin, as if he were observing fine art. You rolled your eyes. 

Jake leaned closely, looking at the quality of each fabric. His eyes lingered on the red satin one a little too long. His focus traced the outline, scanning for any flaws, emphasizing it most on the leg slit to the right. 

His eyes shifted for you; for a moment. 

Your leg was bouncing under your vanity. 

“You’d look best in the blue for tonight.” Jake advised, “That shade of blue is eye-catching. It compliments you well, this fabric is light for the heat.” 

You smiled, “Oh, and he’s a fashion consultant suddenly too?” 

“I know what looks good on you.” Jake said confidently, “There’s no doubt you could wear anything you want and still look good. But elegance looks the best on you.” 

His eyes darted to the red slip one last time. There was a partial frown of disgust on his face upon it. 

“And you’re not cheap.” He muttered, before storming out of your bedroom, closing the door behind him. 

You stopped doing your makeup the second he left mouthing, “What the fuck?” 

As you approached the dress choices again, eyeing that blue halter dress. It was no doubt a favorite of yours. You looked at the red satin dress again, trying to remember exactly what he looked like upon seeing it. 

He looked at it way too much. Too much for someone to remark it as cheap, in disgust. You paid so much more for it, laughing to yourself at a particularly wicked idea. 

As you finished your hair and jewelry, there came another knock at your closed door. 

“Y/n?” Jake called, “I’m going to pick up your father from the airport. Then I’ll return and pull  to the front. Do you need anything else?” 

You looked up from the edge of your bed, fighting the urge to hide the smile in your voice. 

“No, you go on without me!” You replied, “I’ll meet you out front. I promise I won’t get in trouble in the lobby.” 

“Alright then.” Jake muttered, “See you in a few.” 

You waited for the door to shut before you reached for your perfume, dousing yourself in the intoxicating scent. You took off your robe, revealing the red silk thing Jake detested so much. The fabric felt like butter against your skin, as you smoothed over the garnet jewels around your neck. You let out a wicked laugh at the idea of his reaction, before locking up. 

The faux fur shawl around your shoulders concealed the top half of the revealing spaghetti strap cut, as you took the elevator down to the lobby. Your perfume filled the elevator, casting notes of cocoa and mandarin through the lobby. Everyone’s heads turned, as some men stumbled to get the doors for you. You smiled beneath crimson lips, standing tall as you walked down to meet Jake at the curb. 

Jake stepped out of the driver’s side of the limo in his usual uniform- a black jacket with the collar pushed up, his ironed button down, that damn hat and his tie. His focus was on traffic initially before turning to look at you. He stopped at the trunk of the limo before going to the passenger side door to open it for you. Jake slowly lifted his chin, a loud sigh leaving his puffed chest. His hands directly rested on his hips, eyeing you up and down. You bared a flashy grin in response, giving him a slow twirl to show every detail. 

His eye twitched as he opened the passenger side door, not uttering a word. 

“Thank you, Jake, darling.” You hummed, brushing your hand across his shoulder, “I appreciate your fashion advice.” 

You peered inside a moment, finding your father on the phone with consultants from Manhattan. 

“Hi, dad!” you beamed aloud, getting in the car, “I missed you!” 

Jake’s shoulder tensed at your touch, slamming the car door the second you got inside. 

Before picking up your girlfriends, the drive was deathly quiet. You and your father exchanged greetings and short talks before another phonecall pulled him away. Jake could barely stand to look you in the eye from his rearview mirror. He forced himself to keep focus on the road ahead. That vein was daring to burst from the side of his temple. Your lips settled into a satisfied grin, watching as his hands gripped tightly on the wheel. 

“Everything okay, Jake?” You asked in an innocent tone. 

“Why are you asking when you already know the answer?” Jake’s voice drawled

You chuckled softly, leaning the weight of your head into one hand, “Because I like how I get under that tough skin of yours.” 

Jake shut his eyes for a moment and shook his head, “I told you what would look well on you. Not this… Fucking thing.” 

“And what about it?” you mused, “What is it about this dress in particular?” 

“It’s cheap.” Jake remarked, swiping his hand away, “I don’t like it on you. No one else needs to be ogling at you. Hasn’t your father said anything?”

“Let’s see what the jury decided.” you hummed, “Dad, what do you think? Does this look cheap?” 

Your father paused, placing his hand over the receiver of his cellphone, “What?” 

“My dress, is it cheap for tonight?” you asked louder this time. 

“You look gorgeous.” He assured you proudly, “You look like your mother in this light.” 

You smiled slyly, feeling Jake’s temper grow.  

“And what if I want that?” You asked, leaning forward, “What about that bothers you so much, hmm?” 

You leaned in the direct frame of his vision in the rearview mirror, tilting your head. 

“Is there something that you haven’t told me?” you asked innocently, “You’re holding out on me, Mr. Lockley. Honesty goes both ways.” 

“If you keep looking at me that way, I’m turning this fucking car around to make you change.” Jake said angrily. 

“Oh, please.” you laughed, “You wouldn’t dare. This car is way too damn big. My dads is on his second martini. You spill jin on that suit and it’s your ass that’s grass. And Besides! The usual route home is closed for instruction. We’re completely blocked in by other cars. You don’t have any way to go.” 

Jake cursed under his breath, “Pain in the fucking ass, you are.”

You scowled, “Excuse me?!” 

“Yes, I said it.” Jake turned to face you, rage building in his eyes, “And I don’t care what it takes. I’ll throw you over my fucking shoulder and walk all the way back to have you change, if you don’t stop!” 

Your eyes widened, as you sat back in the seat. He wasn’t fucking around this time. There was a tremor in his pointed finger that compromised  his intimidating front. 

“Then I won’t look at you at all.” you said coldly. 

Jake swallowed, forcing his eyes on the road again.

“You aren’t much fun to be around either, you brute.” You sassed, “I’ve never met a body guard so worried about their client’s dress. Really, it should be the other way around, protect me from those who don’t avert their eyes. Or are you the only exception to that rule?” 

Jake ignored you, turning right onto the street of Taylor’s dwelling. You crossed your arms, slumping back. 

“Silent treatment it is.” you remarked, “Two can play at this game.” 

His light shifted to a different phase when Taylor was in the car, but it was futile. The tension between you and Jake was so thick, it made it hard to breathe in the back of his limo. You tried to ignore his gaze, as you talked Taylor’s ear off, then Giselle’s. 

It wasn’t until he rolled up the partition, that anyone felt brave enough to address the elephant in the room. Your father was still busy, so it was fine to vent. 

“Y/n, what’s going on?” Giselle asked, leaning her freshly blown out curls towards you, “Something’s off, and it isn’t the drinks I pregamed with.” 

Taylor glanced up to check if the partition was still in its place, looking back at you with concerned eyes.

You run a finger along the rim of plastic china. Fizzy coke and sweet rum lingered in the glass from the drink you made from the limo’s caddy, but tonight it didn’t feel so sweet. 

“It’s nothing.” You laughed light heartedly, “Really. It’s a stupid fight between Jake and I as usual. That’s what made me late. We were bitching at each other in traffic. You know the deal. ” 

“No, it isn’t just that.” Taylor added, “Have you seen the way he’s looked at you?” 

“Like what?” You asked, looking up at her, “That’s his stupid face, it’s stuck in that stupid expression. Why? Is he freaking you out?” 

Both your girlfriends exchanged looks and leaned in, as if they feared he’d hear. 

“Like he wants to fucking tear you apart.” Taylor whispered, “And not just in a normal, violent way.” 

You furrowed your brows in his general direction, as the obnoxious vibration of his music bumping made you tense. 

“What did you fight about, that’s got him so perturbed?” Giselle tilted her head. 

Taylor checked over her shoulder again, a swish of her dark hair moving like the surface of water with its sheen. 

“It’s stupid.” you remarked, “He didn’t want me to wear this dress. So I wore it anyway. I knew he was trying to talk me out of looking cute tonight.” 

Giselle raised her brow and exchanged a look with Taylor. 

“What, like he’s your boyfriend suddenly?” Giselle remarked, “Becuase that’s kind of a red flag, babes. Why is he trying to decide what you do and don’t do?” 

“No, it’s not like that!” you blurted, “I mean, he wants to look out for me. In some stupid, twisted way, he’s worried about me looking good… He thought this looked too revealing, that something would happen.” 

Taylor checked again, you grabbed her hand to pull her back. 

“Dude, stop looking at him!” You seethed under your breath, “He knows when we’ve talked shit about him in Spanish.” 

“He doesn’t want to kill you.” Taylor said, “Y/N, it looked like he wants to rip that dress off you with his eyes when he picked me up. Think about it. This entire summer? How has he been so protective of you?” 

“He hates me.” You stammered, “He wouldn’t touch me with a ten foot pole. It wasn’t just the dress, it was Sebastian too.” 

“For fucks sake.” Giselle shook her head as she took a long dreg of her drink, “He’s gay, isn’t he?” 

“Well, bisexual, sure.” You stammered, “But he doesn’t trust him. Something about the way he gets in my affairs. Or whatever? Jake thinks he has some sort of moronic entitlement to the way I live my life. I’m talking to my dad when this shit’s over, this is getting fucking ridiculous.” 

Your head began to hum softly at the sensation of liquor hitting your system. Conversation was calculated between your dearest friends,as you danced around the subject of Jake’s overwhelming energy. You felt your tongue slowly fall into knots, as you had to hide your gaze away from him.

Minutes later, you noticed something, as you arrived to your destination. 

You didn’t know it just yet, but Jake was slowly losing control over his desire. He opened the door for you with a brisk sweep, extending his hand towards yours. For the sake of face, and the flash bulbs of pretty cameras outside, you smiled at him and took his hand. He watched you with the focus of an apex predator preparing to strike on its prey. Jake’s dark eyes narrowed at the sight of you, boring into you and making your stomach flip. He may as well have wrapped his hands around your throat for all to see, as his hand carefully supported the small of your waist leaving the car. But it wasn’t complete anger, not the kind that made you want to crawl in a corner and curl up. 

Your stomach turned sour. 

You had laughed at Taylor’s theory, but she was absolutely right. 

There was something about the way he looked at you. 

But even worse was the fact you wanted it. 

Your head was growing dizzy, and you blamed it on the press until entering The Savoy’s lobby, as security guided you and your friends into the main banquet hall. 

Standing inches from the entrance, in a blue suit, was Sebastian! 

He greeted you with a warm smile, as you felt a pang of relief in his presence. 

“Seb!” you cried, rushing up to him. Taylor and Giselle excitedly followed as you greeted your friend. There was a fresh wash of a tan over his brow and neck, as the gold chain around his neck shimmered against his neck. 

“Hey!” He beamed in that same soft English accent, “My girls are here!” 

You exchanged cheek kisses and looked over your shoulder, and it looked like that blood vessel in Jake’s neck was going to explode violently. 

He stared at you as if he wanted to undress you with his eyes over dinner. Periodically, he checked on you during the event. Each time burning more than the last. As a dessert display of chocolate bento was presented at the table, you placed a chocolate between your lips as you placed your gaze back at him. 

After swearing not to look at him again. 

You took a bite, sucking out the matcha ice cream. Your lips wrapped around it. The liquor in your system encouraged more. Jake had snapped then, turning to leave to pull the car around the front. His jaw was quivering, harder than usual when he got frustrated. 

As the night progressed, you nearly made a mess of yourself. You were nestled between Taylor and Giselle on the floor, dancing with eachother and making sure Jake was watching. Jake was glued to a shadowed corner with nothing but the brim of his hat peeking out into the dim lighting. You couldn’t see his face- only the shifting, closed fists of his gloved hands. 

It was music to your ears to see him so flustered. The music was much too good to focus on him only, as you dropped it low on the floor. As you swayed your hips, Sebastian appear behind you and swept you across the floor. You reacted with a loud laugh, letting him dance close to you. It was in genuine fashion, as his hand rested respeftuclly above the point of no return, but you relished in the attention. You began to whisper in Sebastian’s ear. 

“Jake is jealous of you, did you know that?” 

“Come again?” Sebastian asked louder, leaning into yout ear, “Sorry, I can’t hear you.” 

“Jake is jealous of you!” You repeated with a giggle.

“Aww, I missed him too. In an odd way.” 

You giggled. It was a sign to keep it to yourself.  

As you look for Jake in his usual spot, your stomach dropped. 

He was gone. Maybe, you thought, he left to take a leak. But even then, that wasn’t like him. You scanned the club for him again, and he was nowhere to be seen. 

You danced with Sebasitan  for another hour or so. He was smooth with it, but your mind couldn’t stay off Jake too long. 

You began to worry, while it seemed your girlfriends celebrated his disappearance. 

Was something wrong?

And as that sweet young man pulled you into the corner, you couldn’t bring yourself to kiss him. As he leaned in, closing those long lashes to kiss you, you pressed a hand to his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry.” You said, “I don’t feel very good.” 

“What’s got you feeling ths way?” Sebastian cooed, “You can tell me anything, you know. All our late night conversations, don’t you remember I can keep a secret too?”

Your heart was racing, bad. There was a cold sweat forming on your neck. Your body was trembling, as you pulled away. The idea of him being in danger-filled you with panic. 

“Yes.” You half lied, “But not right now. Please excuse me.” 

You fled to the back exit of the Savory,  despite Sebasitan’s syrupy  pleas after you. As the door burst open, you sighed a breath of relief. The night air was slightly cooler than usual, soothing your racing heart at its touch. 

You braced yourself against a wall as you scanned the back lot for Jake’s limo. 

The windows were too dark to tell if he was there. 

You dragged your aching feet to the limo, pretending to take a break in the night air. Whether you actually worried about Jake or not was none of his business. You checked the mirror and reapplied your lipstick- not in the side view mirror, but in the reflection of his driver side window. 

This little ritual soothed you a bit more. Maybe Jake did step away to get something to eat. 

You nearly dropped your lipstick as the window rolled down. 

“What the fuck?!” you choked. 

From the shadows, Jake’s chin lifted, his brows raised. His elbow rested over the side of the driver’s window, as he leaned to you. 

“What are you doing out here?” He asked nonchalantly, “Shouldn’t you be having fun inside?” 

“You ditched me.” you stuttered, “Did something happen?” 

“No.” Jake answered honestly, “Well, something almost did. I scared them off.” 

“Who?” you inquired, pressing further in your voice, “And are they gone?” 

“Didn’t see their faces too well.” Jake answered, “I scared them off just being there. Three men, unmarked car. They’re long gone.” 

You took a shaky breath of relief, rolling your shoulders back. 

“Thanks.” you said flatly, “I just thought something happened to you.” 

Jake smiled slightly, “Now here you go worrying over me again. What’s with that? Did you…” 

He let out a low, sinister chuckle. The cold sweat worsened over your shoulders. 

“Ahh, did you miss me?” Jake asked. 

You crossed your arms and clicked your tongue, “Oh please, I miss you like I miss catching covid, Jake. Get a grip. We just haven’t discussed our escape plan and I wanted to make sure…” 

Jake’s laughter grew, “And you know it by heart. What do you need me for?” 

Need.

“I need a break.” you admitted, “It’s too fucking hot in that ballroom, I nearly had a panic attack. I need to sit somewhere where it's quiet. Can you cut the jokes and help me?”

Jake shook his head and smiled more, a crescent moon in the ink. 

“On one condition.” Jake hummed. 

You scowled, leaning further into his space, “Go on.” 

He broke his promise of looking up at you, really looking. 

And your girlfriends were right- those eyes said much more than a predator. He looked as if he finally caught his prey. 

“Admit that you missed me.” Jake teased, “Admit that you need me.” 

The angry laugh that left your body echoed three blocks down. You braced against the car and looked down at the gravel under your feet. 

“Fuck you.” Your voice raised in anger, “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!” 

Jake heartily laughed in your face. That just pissed you off a bit more. 

“Try again, princessa.” Jake added insult to injury with that stupid pet name. He used it to remark on your spoiled nature, on getting anything you wanted. There were hints of endearment in it, as he watched you struggle. 

Your heart palpitated in your breast. After a minute of struggling, the words left your mouth as if they clawed their way out of hell. 

“I missed you in there,” you choked on your own words, “I need you, Jake.” 

You closed your eyes. There was silence on his part. 

“Is that it?” you barked. 

His doors unlocked with a magical click. 

“See? That wasn’t so hard.” Jake praised, opening the front passenger side of the limo from inside. Your head hung a little lower as you climbed into the passenger’s side, shutting the door behind you. It was cooler in the limo, oddly enough. You took off your shoes and hugged your knees to your chest, not wanting to look at him. 

Jake clicked his tongue and cooed at you, “Ahh, you were really scared, weren’t you?” 

“Don’t piss me off.” You muttered. 

“But it’s so fun.” Jake leaned back in his seat, “You didn’t get this way because you had too much to drink alone, hmm?”

There were many things you needed at the moment, his teasing being the last on your list. 

“Let’s say that was the reason.” you remarked, “You’d proceed to lecture me about drinking too much and throwing myself on a man. Well, I did it a little extra tonight just to annoy you. So there’s no need. It’s a moot point, and I’m not in the mood for a fucking lecture.” 

Jake blinked in surprise. 

“You’re not wrong. I… just didn’t know you could dance like that.” Jake observed in a softer tone, “I figured a bit of privacy couldn’t hurt.” 

Privacy? That's rich coming from him. He had seen you dance before, every weekend and every day at the high rise when your father wasn’t there. You narrowed your eyes. Static from Jake’s radio cut in on a slower song. 

Jake ran his hands down his steering wheel. There was such care and tenderness in his touch as he brushed the butt of his steering wheel. You watched his hands carefully. He laughed through his nose. 

“Did anyone bother you?” Jake asked firmly, “Be honest with me, Y/n. Do I need to scare anyone?” 

“No.” You answered, “I just wanted to be here for a while, with you.” 

Silence. The radio tunes hummed, cutting in and out. Your shoulders slumped forward, as you turned the volume a bit higher. 

“Fine.” Jake huffed, “It must’ve been a crap event if you’d rather be out here with me instead.”

“And what did you mean?” You asked, fiddling with your necklace, “About the way I dance?” 

Jake pulled his head back as if his next words determined life or death. 

“I just haven’t seen anything like it before.” Jake’s tone of voice edged on hypnotized at the memory of you moving on the floor, “Not the way you do it.” 

“Then why didn’t you come and join me?” You teased, “You could’ve come over.” 

“First of all, I don’t dance- dancing isn’t in my job description.” Jake uttered, “Second of all, too many eyes. I’d be off my vantage point. That puts you at risk, and it’ll be on me that I didn’t see a threat coming.” 

He answered a little too quickly for your liking. 

“You can dance with me anytime you want to.” You admitted, “You can dance with me when no one else is watching.” 

 Tequila coursed through your system and became a form of liquid truth, that would burn you later in the middle of the night. Jake opened his mouth, probably to say something that would hurt now. 

“You don’t have to give me an answer now.” You said, “It’s silly.” 

There were a few more minutes of silence. This time, you embraced them, listening to the station.

You weren’t paying attention to anything else other than the stray cat wandering amongst the trash cans in front of Jake’s limo. Jake slowly reached for you. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched his hand reach for your arm. You froze, wondering what he was doing. He carefully lifted your fallen dress strap, pulling it up back over your shoulder. His hand felt warm beneath the material of his gloves. 

“Pardon me, y/n.” Jake spoke softly, “I figured that would bother you later.” 

“Hm?” You checked again, “Oh, that? It’s been doing that all night. Making me crazy.” 

“I bet.” Jake affirmed, “Where did you get this one anyways?” 

“I got it a couple days ago…” you answered, “I was shopping with Giselle earlier this week, and this was what I saw when we were leaving the dressing room. It’s not what I usually gravitate to, but this just looked so pretty.” 

“You're right, you usually wear much shorter things.” Jake observed aloud, “But no… It isn’t cheap. It isn’t cheap at all, then.”

“Then why were you so against it?” You asked. 

“I wasn’t.” Jake admitted in a lower tone, “I don’t think you look cheap, it’s different. You look-” 

Jake’s eyes softened as he looked down upon you. You listened carefully, feeling the energy shift inside the front seat. 

“Beautiful.” Jake revealed with a waving hand, “Muy hermosa. A beautiful woman, and not just some silly party girl who drinks her funds away. It’s different with you now. You carry grace with you.” 

You were in awe of his confession, said with such sweetness. 

“Thank you, Jake,” you said warmly. 

Jake let out a perturbed little noise and waved his hand. 

“Don’t go telling anyone I said that either, okay?” Jake feigned a scowl, “I don’t want people to get the wrong idea. You know what I mean.” 

You giggled, “I promise. It’ll be our own little secret.” 

You smiled genuinely at him- he wasn’t some grump after all. His front was collapsing before you, as you leaned in to whisper in his ear. 

“Say, you look a little rosy, Jake. Aren’t you hot in that old hat?” you asked. 

Jake shook his head no, the redness on his ears betraying him, “No, I’m just fine. Wait! Hey!” 

With one swift motion, you took off Jake’s hat. 

“Hey!” Jake seethed through his teeth, “Bring it back here!” 

You giggled, watching his hair fall forward. The hat smelled like him. Tobacco, mint, and hair gel. Jake lurched forward to retrieve it. 

“I quite like you like this.” You laughed, fighting for your life to keep the hat close to you, “Ah! No, stop it! If you’re going to be my security guard, you have to look the part, not like some crooked cabbie from a bad gangster movie!” 

“There’s nothing wrong with the clothes I’ve got on.” Jake argued, “Now stop acting foolish and give this back!” 

He was out of hair gel. Those strands had much more give than usual, pressing in soft waves against the sides of his head. You reached forward, fixing his hair. His hair felt soft to the touch as you brushed it loose. 

“There.” You smiled, “So I can see your handsome face.” 

Jake’s brutal hand gripped onto yours, interlocking fingers with your own. Your hand was pinned into your lap, nearly behind your back. He leaned into your space with a stern expression. You watched him, in your space, as he did not let go of your hand. 

The apology was braced against your lips, as you looked into his eyes. Jake’s chest rose and fell more quickly, tracing your expressions with concern. His grip was on the verge of nearly breaking you. You wanted to scream, but his act made your head feel fuzzier than the cocktails you downed that night. 

Jake lowered his face to you. You closed the final gap between you, and pressed a kiss into his lower lip first. Hr replied with a sharp inhale and a loosening grip on your hand. The man froze under your lips with a hesitation that nearly made you stop. Right as you began to pull away, however, you felt one hand wrap around your waist, the other braced against the nape of your neck. Jake kissed you back with the fervency of a desperate, starved man. He pulled you tightly against his body as if there were further gaps to be closed. The sensation of his strong arms and body overpowering yours made you feel weak in your arms and legs. He tasted so fucking good across your lips. Your chest rattled from your rising pulse as he kissed you. You could barely keep up with the pace as he pulled you tighter into his space. The sensations were nearly suffocating, with a deep pressure across your body that nearly made you combust then and there. 

You leaned further into him, kissing him much more deeply now. Every judgment you had towards him leading to this point came apart in threads. You rose from your seat, crawling to straddle his lap, never missing one single second of his perfect lips. Your attention was not on the space around you, as your butt pressed against the horn of his steering wheel. 

You pulled away a second as you yelped. Jake laughed warmly in your ear. 

“Easy, easy.” Jake reassured as he pulled you into his lap,  “I’m right here, baby.” 

The ease of “baby” leaving his lips made you come undone, as you straddled his lap. You put your hips down on top of his lap slowly as you continued kissing him. There was an addictive taste and feel to his plush lips. Jake’s hands traveled down the small of your waist and stuffed fistfuls of your dress in them. Your hands braced onto either side of his face, tracing the edges of his jawline in your fingertips. The same one you could trace from memory after looking at him every day. 

Jake made a choking noise in the back of his throat, as you pulled away to look down at him. His hair had fallen into his eyes and framed the top half of his face. His chest rose and fell faster, as he licked his lower, swollen lip. You couldn’t escape the burning feeling in your core, you craved more. As you ran your hands down the small crevice of Jake’s chest, Jake’s gloved hand gripped onto your chin, pulling you to face him. 

“Don’t stop now,” Jake demanded, barely able to catch his breath.

There was a near groan in the emphasis of now. You were snapped into reality at the strength of his hand on your face. 

“Are you scared, y/n?” He asked you again. His mismatched pupils seemed to twitch and ebb in delight at the sight of you.

You smiled under his gloved hands and slowly shook your head. 

“Not even in the slightest,” you whispered. 

You began pressing kisses onto any part of his face that was available- his cheeks, his jawline, his eyelids. It was a perfect shade of red against his skin. He responded with a shaken sigh, eyes floating shut at the sensation. Those large hands of his squeezed your hips tight enough to make you whimper. You went back to his lips again, feeling the weight of his head slip back into the driver’s seat. His hat cap fell from the action down at your feet within the seat, as you moved to kiss his hot neck. Jake’s heartbeat increased violently, as his hand knotted in your hair, urging you to keep going. You smiled into his skin and placed kisses into his neck, bringing them back to the faint scar on his chin. There was a hitch in his breathing, as his hips jerked upward. You felt it then beneath you, the sensation making you gasp. You opened your eyes to look at him again. 

Jake was lost in your world of red velvet, perfume, and nectar. He finally had you in his space, after denying dreams of you for nights on end. His eyes rolled back, jaw slacks as his hips trembled beneath you. You watched him in awe, not initially comprehending that he came just at this sensation. 

“Holy shit.” you whispered, near a panic. 

If you were still pissed at him, this would have been perfect to bully about later. 

But at this moment, it was beautiful to see him undone at your touch. 

You continued to kiss his neck through the orgasm, until his hips slowed their bucking, and his heart rate settled. A large wet stain formed between his legs as his hips jerked upward into your hands. You palmed at him, making him shudder and nearly weep. 

Jake exhaled as if he had held his breath for years without realizing it. You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips once more, running a hand down his jawline. Jake initially didn’t look up at you again, averting his attention in the opposite direction. He shifted slightly, rolling his shoulders back. 

You could tell this was a blow for him, just getting off from kissing alone. Like you were two teenagers sneaking off during a party and getting frisky in a friend’s car. The silence was thick with your shared breaths. You lovingly kissed his neck once more, smiling down at him. 

“That didn't scare me either,” you said in his ear, fixing his hair back. Jake shook his head softly and rested his head against your chest. You couldn’t see it- but you felt a small smile of satisfaction on his face, pressed into your skin. He placed kisses on your shoulders. Your words were enough to soothe him, as he felt he could breathe again. 

You wished this moment would have lasted longer until you saw Giselle and Taylor entering the parking lot through the limo’s back window. They were twice as drunk and confused, eyeing the parking lot for Jake’s limo. 

“Fuck.” you whispered, “They’re here. Jake, where can we-” 

Without hesitation, Jake chucked you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You landed face-first into the plush seating of his limo. There was a scuffle from his side of the limo, as he ripped off his jacket and put it over his lap. You looked up again, watching him smear the lipstick, leaving all but a single mark on his neck from where you placed it. 

You smiled wickedly at him. 

“Aww, don’t wipe off every trace of me now.” you pouted, “That shade of red is pretty on you too.” 

Jake returned a look back to you from the driver’s window, placing a gloved fingertip over his stained lips. 

“You’ll be paying for this later.” Jake threatened, “Mark my words, princessa.” 

You sat up in your seat, spreading your legs softly. The scent of your arousal was faint, but enough to make Jake’s shoulders tense. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” You winked, as the car doors opened. Taylor and Giselle were weary, with their heels in hand. 

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

Whew... I giggled the entire time finishing this fic, should I make a part 2 to the fun? I live for the drama!

[rudie-wr1tes]

It’s been way too long since I’ve been on this account. But my brain is back on Jake lockley. And I know what you’re thinking. Rudie! It’s been years. He’s killed people! He’s wilding out here! And you’re right. But he’s…. He’s a lover not a fighter 🥺

And…. 👉🏼👈🏼 what if I like the idea of him being like y/n’s assigned security guard and they can’t stand eachother …. And he’s jealous as hell and can’t stand it when he has to drive her n her friends around (bc she’s high profile and careless and gorgeous) and they just get on eachother’s nerves.

And it’s like.

“Sorry for being late guys, my fuckin security guard pissing me off”

“Why does he look at you like that?”

“That’s just his face. He looks at everyone that way…”

“No, he doesn’t look at you that way. Like he wants to tear you apart. You know what I mean.”

And he gets jealous when she looks so gorgeous going out and he makes sure she knows 😭 or tries to trick her by pretending to help her pick outfits to go out and hates the one that he finds her most attractive in. And she turns around wearing it to make him crazy. AAAAAAAAAUGH.

I should’ve been sleeping by now but I’m blushing so hard. He’s so fucking ududhfjjvivvj I want to nibble on him. MARVEL. WHERE IS MY BABY DADDY?

[rudie-wr1tes]

I’m just trying to read Thomas Shelby fan fictions. WHY THE FUCK IS THERE SO MUCH INCEST????????

I JUST WANT TO READ ABOUT THOMAS SHELBY. WTF.

[rudie-wr1tes]

"How do you write such realistic dialogue-" I TALK TO MYSELF. I TALK TO MYSELF AND I PRETEND I AM THE ONE SAYING THE LINE. LIKE SANITY IS SLOWLY SLIPPING FROM BETWEEN MY FINGERS WITH EVERY MEASLY WORD THEY TYPE OUT. THAT IS HOW.

[rudie-wr1tes]

AIMEE WAI

[rudie-wr1tes]

I love my Sabine so much. I adore her, and I really don’t want to part with her as a character. She will be making an appearance in another fan fiction for a different fandom soon, I shall give her new life in the wake of such horrible news. Her heart will always be made of the things of stardust and joy, she will always hold her head high like a queen, but for the time being, I will not be finishing my beautiful fan fiction.

[rudie-wr1tes]

I’ve listened to the neil gaiman podcast. Here is a recap of the allegations and trigger warning I will talk about it in detail. This is an incredibly complex situation, so take care of yourself

Scarlett, one of the victims, met Amanda Palmer (Neil’s ex wife) and became friends with her. Scarlett was out of work and started to do odd jobs for Amanda and eventually starts doing some babysitting/nannying for them. It sounds like she was already very close to Amanda at this point.

So far I’ve seen her kind of referred to as just an employee and while it is factually true, I don’t think it’s completely honest. She was very much a personal friend of Amanda’s first and clearly had many interactions with Amanda that were not strictly professional. What I’m saying is that the boundaries between employee and personal friend were blurred from the beginning. Though blame still falls on Amanda/Neil for mixing personal and professional boundaries and not on the victim. I just point it out to say all three were already acting inappropriately for an employer/employee relationship

The first night she meets Neil Gaiman, he alleges that he asked her if she wanted to take an outdoor bath (I’m assuming this is a hot tub) together. Her story is that she did not know he would join her in the bath. He was naked but she thought it might be “normal” because she was used to seeing Amanda naked often. He says that the shared bath was consensual. She says that he pressured her into giving him a handjob and when she said no, he said she was “missing out” and he masturbated in the tub with her and then penetrated her anally with his fingers. His account was that this instance was only consensual cuddling and making out. She is clearly uncomfortable during this scene and any consent that may have given does not seem genuine. She does end up messaging him that night, “Thank you for a lovely, lovely night. Wow. Kiss”

From there however, they continue to have sexual encounters involving some potentially extreme BDSM scenes. In WhatsApp messages she repeatedly consents/expresses a a desire for these encounters. She tells a friend the sex is “rough” and “amazing”. There are A LOT of messages with clear and enthusiastic consent and love for Neil.

One message from Scarlett read: "I am consumed by thoughts of you, the things you will do to me, I'm so hungry. What a terrible creature you've turned me into. I think you need to give me a huge spanking very soon. I'm fucking desperate for my master."

"I may be ill [covid] but I am lying here with my sick little mind wondering into terrible, filthy, dark places, and I want you to, if I'm lucky, occasionally instruct me with naughty things to do so that I can fill all this alone time imagining your cruelty. I'm sorry, I'm such a desperate and perverted and kinky sad little girl. What do they say? When you play with fire"

Neil’s replies are described as neutral, affectionate, brief, and non committal. At least via messages it seems like Scarlett was the one perusing sexual contact.

She goes on to describe one encounter as so painful she blacked out and he hadn’t noticed and had left to watch rehearsal tapes? And that she had been bleeding? This encounter was very unclear, violent seeming but hazy. It’s really unclear what happened to her. It sounds like it might have been painful anal sex. Potentially consensual in words, but she clearly was not taken care of. He alleges that he only ever penetrated her with his fingers.

At some point she tells a friend about these encounters and the friend points out the power imbalance and tells Amanda. Scarlett says to Neil in clear terms that everything was consensual and though it may have “crossed boundaries at the start” everything after was consensual.

EDIT FOR CONTEXT: the beginning of this conversation opens with Neil saying: "Honestly, when Amanda told me that you are telling people I'd raped you and were planning to Me Too me, I wanted to kill myself. But I'm getting through it a day at a time."

Scarlett: "Oh my god, Neil. I never said that. I have been deeply upset about it all because it's triggered things from my past and also for many reasons. I feel whiplash. But I am horrified by your message." [more messages inbetween] "I have never used the word rape. I am just so shocked. I honestly don't know what to say."

Neil: "It was very unstabilizing. I spent a week actively not killing myself, if you see what I mean."

Scarlett: "I feel like bawling my eyes out. I would never Me Too you. I don't where that came from, and I have told Amanda that even though it began questionably, eventually it was undoubtedly consensual and I enjoyed it. Heart is pounding too."

Neil: "Knowing that you would be prepared to say it's not true, it was consensual, he's not a monster, makes me a lot more grounded."

Scarlet: "It was consensual. How many times do I have to fucking tell everyone?"

It has to be said that Neil implying he considered suicide over this adds context to Scarlett’s messages of consent and how true those feelings were at the time. It was incredibly manipulative on his end.

Scarlett seems to go through some pretty traumatic life events outside of this situation and is hospitalized for suicidal thoughts (actions? unclear). Neil sends her messages of support, which she now in hindsight finds it was his way of pulling her back in. She asks Neil to pay her rent and Neil agrees to. Neil’s bookkeepers ask her to sign an NDA, not specifically about any allegations but just talking about his personal life overall. She admits to not reading the NDA.

EDIT 2: I believe the timeline of Scarlett’s hospitalization occurred before she messaged Neil and said their relation was consensual.

She does end up filing a police report in summer 2022 but receives rent payments until winter 2022 and drops contact with Neil completely Jan 2023. She says her view of their relationship changed after her hospitalization.

It is clear from this situation that Neil did act inappropriately but this is not a black and white situation overall. Their first encounter in the tub is very disturbing. The texts/relationship after are very complex and I’m not qualified to place judgement.

Now important point I want to make about this podcast and its reporting. These podcasters are vehemently against BDSM and they made it clear they don’t think BDSM can ever be consensual. I think critiquing this podcast itself is a discussion worth having. I find this podcast to be pretty biased in that sense. An “expert” they have on as a guest says, “the idea that you can consent to degradation is such a stupid idea. Only men can think this up.” I’m not saying that Neil engaged in BDSM with these women in a healthy or consensual way, however the podcasters make it clear that they don’t believe BDSM could ever be consensual and they consider these acts as blanket abuse in any situation.

The second victim K, did meet Neil at 18 however they had no sexual/romantic contact until she was 20. She says,"I never wanted any of the stuff he did to me, including the violent stuff, but I did consent to it." Neil says they were in a two year relationship that was completely consensual. He says that he has record of hundreds of emails between the two of them that never show any sign of distress. K began to become upset that Neil did not plan on leaving his marriage (open at the time I believe?) or ever make their relationship public. Unfortunately it does feel like K consented to things she didn’t necessarily want to keep Neil in her life.

She alleges that they did not use lube during sex and it was often painful for her. During one encounter she alleges she told him not to penetrate her due to a UTI and he did so anyway.

K and Neil have an argument that leads him to break the relationship. He leaves, and buys a plane ticket home. K buys a ticket on the same flight, follows him onto the plane and begs him not to end their relationship. Security ends up removing her from the plane. They continue to email from 2008-2022 pleasantly and flirtatiously.

The podcast reached out to other sexual partners of Neil’s and they did not have any stories of misbehavior.

Overall, this isn’t a clear cut situation. Neil clearly did take advantage of his celebrity and position of power and failed to protect these women. He was the instigator in all these relationships and he does seem to seek out younger more inexperienced partners. Partners who don’t seem to have the social/mental footing to consent properly. There are times where he clearly crossed boundaries and assaulted these women. The bath/hot tub and UTI instances were clearly not appropriate consensual acts.

But I think there’s a discussion worth having about intentionally lying about your consent. Hindsight and experience can certainly recontextualize everything and I understand why they may have consented in the moment. The pressures they were under etc. They clearly at times felt like they couldn’t say no in some ways. But they also both actively perused the relationship and admit to giving clear verbal consent often. I very very much feel for these women and I’m so sorry that they had such a negative experience.

I have no answers on any of this and it’s not my job or place to. I hope this recap provides more context and that everyone comes away knowing that this is not a black and white issue.

I also hope everyone does not tie their identity/enjoyment of good omens/his other works on this. We as fans are not responsible for the actions of others. Our engagement with Neil’s work is not an excusal or support of his actions. We are not responsible for what he has done in his personal life. If you end up seeing posts that imply you are somehow a bad person if you engage with his works now, that is not a healthy or good take.

Be critical, be open to the facts as they develop, find where your comfortability with engaging in his works is, and do not tell others how they have to feel/act about this situation.

Much love to you all as this situation unfolds

[rudie-wr1tes]

Just a reminder.....

In light of some recent allegations that came out about Neil Gaiman, it's okay to have complicated feelings when a beloved celebrity does something shitty.

It's okay to feel betrayed and let down when a beloved celebrity does something shitty.

It's okay to have to re-consider your relationship with a shitty celebrity and their work.

It's okay to have once loved and looked up to someone who turned out to be a huge piece of shit.

It's okay to still love a shitty celebrity's work while recognizing that the celebrity is a shitty person.

The shitty and unhealthy thing to do is to dig in an insist that your fave celebrity did nothing wrong.

/this is why we can't have nice things meme

[rudie-wr1tes]

For the sake of everyone, all of us who are coming at this news from different backgrounds and experiences, I beg us all to be kind to our fellow fandom members and give each other the initial benefit of the doubt as we process this news and learn more information in the coming days. People will be furious, they’ll be devastated, they’ll be cynical, they’ll be hopeful. All of these emotions are a valid early response to learning ugly things about the creator of a piece of media that’s incredibly dear to you. Let’s be gentle with one another.

[rudie-wr1tes]

I am incredibly angry, disgusted, and disheartened at the news regarding Neil Gaiman and the accounts of SA being spoken by his victims. At this time I am taking an extended break from my fan fiction. I am disgusted and heartbroken as this has been a place of passion and comfort in the fandom, and Neil has been such an inspiration to me and my writing journey. This has just angered me and made me ill. I will be following all details of this case as more information comes out. I am taking this time to listen to the accounts of the victims on the tortoise app. I suggest everyone does the same. The app is free as a subscriber.

[rudie-wr1tes]

This is where I’ve been for the past few weeks. Apologies. New chapters are coming soon. Your homework is to reread the chapters I’ve got!!!

[rudie-wr1tes]

In celebration of AAPI month, I would like to spotlight the beauty of my original character, Sabine Kanaka.

She is a part of my Sandman fan fiction series, yes. But she is inspired by my own native Hawaiian ancestry. Her grace, resilience, and intuition are all inspired by the women on that side of my family who have shown grace in the presence of grander things regardless, while choosing to remain kind. Happy Mother’s Day to them. 🌺

[rudie-wr1tes]

Hello, dear readers!

My masterlist has been updated. Two more chapters have been updated to it. I fear my uploads are not going to be as consistent for the time being due to the fact I've been accepted to online classes that will greatly take up my free time... Blegh, the waking world.

I will do the best to my ability to post all chapters for you guys. Thank you for your continued support. I adore you all!

[rudie-wr1tes]

Endless Passion- A Sandman Fan Fiction

XV. Euneirophrenia

Synopsis: Sabine wakes up, returns to the Dreaming, and confronts Lord Morpheus in anger. she is met with compassion, as a resolution. Something shifts in the Dreaming on her return. What exactly, his creations do not know...

In the last moments before a cold, bitter sleep was taken from her, Sabine dreamt for what felt like centuries. 

The edges of her vision were blurred. She remembered a dim hallway resembling Morpheus’s palace. She remembered several symbols in her vision- one resembling Dream’s helm- another, an ankh, and the final, an open book. She saw a pale hand opening a book with her name on it, but the rest could not be described. 

“You knew.” Morpheus berated behind closed doors, “You knew all along and did not tell me?” 

“We all did.” Another man’s voice said, “She is the one. You were never intended to spend your rule in the Dreaming alone. And since your abduction, even more so.” 

“This is impossible.” Morpheus stammered, “Death, what say you?” 

“He’s right.” Death spoke calmly, “You carry so many burdens of being decided by lovers. But it is unfair you hold-” 

In the cracked doorway, Sabine saw Morpheus’s eye. She saw how it shone, that tender, crisp blue against ebony black. He met her gaze, but she was pulled into murky waters, hands clawing at her beneath the surface, knocking the wind from her lungs as she was pulled deeper beneath. 

In her youth, she had predictive dreams that warned her of the future to come. The sense of doom, and something uncertain filled her as she was trapped beneath black waters and an even blacker sky, calling his name. Something was coming, regardless of her time in the Dreaming, if she was to return or not.

“Sabine, are you okay?”

A whispered, delicate voice called to her. 

Sabine flinched, blindly swinging from the direction it came. Her back was cushioned by silk and pillows before she grabbed one and swung it blindly into the air. There was a flourish of feathers and a small crash. 

Brightness from open windows and an open patio door blinded her. 

“Ack!” a voice cried, “Watch out, my lady!” 

As Sabine’s eyes adjusted, a very fluffed up Evangeline stood before her at the edge of her bed. 

“Eva?” Sabine gasped, whilst patting herself to check for any marks. She returned to her bedroom in the Dreaming. Everything was pristine, save for the broken porcelain lamp to her beside, “Oh my god, you’re okay!” 

Sabine stumbled forward on her knees to hug the bird, squeezing her tight. 

“You’re alive.” Sabine sighed, “I’m so sorry. Oh my god.” 

“I missed you!” Evangline cheered, “You’re finally back. I knew you’d return.” 

Evangeline nuzzled against Sabine, humming in relief. 

“Where have you been?” She asked, “Oh, I’ve been so cross with my creator for this.” 

Sabine pulled away, “You don’t even know the beginning of it. I was too far away. Where is your creator?” 

“Just down below!” Evangeline croaked, “Well, At least that’s where I saw him. He’s acting like he isn’t worried about you but- Sabine! Sabine, my lady, where are you going?! And why are you taking a shoe? Aren’t you supposed to be wearing them on your feet?” 

The young woman stormed with purpose, barefoot through the polished halls. Fury filled her cheeks, as she held a grip on her leather sandal. Somewhere below her chambers, she heard Lucienne’s voice snap in anger. Morpheus was speaking to her. His deep voice echoed forward, the mere sound making her knuckles turn white.  

Lord Morpheus was entering the halls of his palace after being told off by his librarian for Sabine’s punishment, again. He placed his hands in his pockets, a natural brooder in his state. What he did not anticipate was Sabine hurrying down a spiral staircase towards him so quickly. Morpheus looked at her and froze in his tracks. Sabine’s lowered brows and tensed frown said everything he needed to know. 

“Hello, Sabine.” Morpheus spoke, “I must-” 

Dream’s face met the bottom of her sandal, leather crashing violently into the bridge of his nose. It was a direct hit, the sound rippling through his realm with a loud snap. He tasted the soles, reminded of the concrete she was left in. 

Lucienne, as well as some of Morpheus’s other creations stood in shock. The sandal fell to the floor at his feet. 

Lucienne’s jaw was flack. A small noise akin to laugh slipped from the back of her throat, side eyeing Sabine. Her silence was deafeningly loud. 

“Lord of Dreams and Nightmares, Prince of Stories, The Shaper of Form, Master of Dreams, King of the Dream World, Lord Morpheus!” Sabine roared with every fiber of her being, “How dare you! I will not be subject to whatever punishment you concoct again, do you understand!?” Sabine reprimanded, her finger pointing at Morpheus’s chin. Her eyes were black with fury, growing glassy with tears. Morpheus steadied his calmest demeanor, anger simmering in the back of his judgment. 

And yet, it was this fire he missed the most. Her rage was valid. He knew that much.

“You do not do that to people.” She snapped, “You do not do that to me. I made a mistake. That was clear. I should thank you for sparing Evangeline’s life. Clearly, you care for at least one of us more. But you do not do that to me again, letting me see my sister and not be able to call for her. That was sick. That was terrible. As long as I remain here, you are not obliged to treat me as a friend, but you do not have the right to treat me as an enemy!” 

Morpheus’s jaw twitched, as he looked down upon her. Everyone in that room anticipated the worst. No one had ever dared to lay a hand, let alone a slipper, on the Endless. But then again, Morpheus made no attempt to stop her, when he easily could have caught it in his hands. No amount of his power could contain the scourge of feminine rage. 

“Do you understand?!” Sabine yelled again, her knuckles so tight they began to add red marks in the meat of her palms. 

Lucienne’s hand did not leave her mouth. The Dreaming fell so silent, that one could hear a tardigrade sing in the halls. He didn’t have to make the motion for the majority of his creations to take swift exeunt, even reluctant Lucienne, who was antsy to hail the news to Matthew as soon as possible. Evangeline fluttered after her, equally as shocked. The remaining groups escaped in shrouds of whispered shock. 

He said nothing, as he ushered her back into the throne room away from judgmental eyes. Not that he cared for the eyes of his creation or their judgment, but he was more concerned for her. 

Both were alone, finally. The white noise of an entire universe drowned out any further words from either of them. Sabine soothed slightly from the star patterned ceilings. Her shoulders relaxed, observing the stained glass behind them both, glowing brighter than usual. 

Morpheus was choosing his words carefully, pacing himself closer in her presence. As he took a step forward, Sabine took one back. 

“My judgment of your breach in our agreement was rash and cruel.” Morpheus spoke patiently, “And for that, I apologize. So long as you are here, you will no longer be subject to such punishment ever again. You are not under obligation to forgive me for such a crime against you, Sabine Kanaka.” 

He took note of her goosebump-riddled arms, how they appeared at the sound of his voice. The frown did not leave her face, her chest heaving a little less with each breath. There was fatigue and puffiness under her eyes. He was quietly cursing himself for thinking it was even a feasible idea, not after Death and Destiny got on his case for her banishment. 

“Do you swear?” Sabine urged, placing a hand on her hip, the shift of her weight falling on one leg beneath him. 

“Never.” Morpheus interjected, “I promise.” 

“Prove it to me, then.” Sabine looked him up and down, “So I don’t have to spend the rest of eternity hating you for everything you are.” 

Morpheus couldn’t help but to grin from ear to ear at her remark. He remembered the book. His chin slowly craned upwards, as he approached her. A cat-like grin formed over his lips. 

“Now why would you say something like that?” He mused, “You cannot hate me.” 

“Oh, but I can!” Sabine scoffed, “Don’t get smug on me now. I’m still angry with you.” 

“All the residents you have interacted with in this world missed your presence.” Morpheus admitted, “And committed light mutiny in exchange for your return.” 

She could feel her head slowly growing from such eager news. Sabine placed her hands lightly on the curve of her hips, a vision that Morpheus did his best to wipe clean from his subconscious, and failed miserably. 

“See?” Sabine sassed, “You can’t get rid of me even if you tried.” 

“No, I cannot.” Morpheus spoke nonchalantly, “Not when I was the first of all of them against the decision.” “Oh, please.” Sabine laughed, crossing her arms, “As if you weren’t in such a rush to get rid of me.”

“I’ve been betrayed by humanity too many times.” Morpheus admitted. 

Morpheus stepped closer. Sabine took a step back, again. 

“It isn’t fair that you leave me to the standards of others long before me.” Sabine argued, “It isn’t common that I share a living space with a divine entity, but I know for a fact many of the gods I’ve learned about try at some points to overcome their petty grudges.” 

Morpheus smiled slightly at her quick words. 

“Do you find this funny?” Sabine asked in a confronting tone, “I don’t see why you’re laughing.” 

“No, it is not that I am amused.” Morpheus turned his jaw up slightly higher as he spoke, “I believe we may both need to work on understanding and learning from one another.” 

She sighed, seeing a dark smudge mark across his long nose. He wasn’t entirely wrong. But the idea of learning again filled her with dread. The patience it took, the time. Despite them having years of it. She squinted closer at his alabaster face. 

“Did it hurt?” Sabine asked, “When I threw my shoe at your forehead?” 

“Quite the contrary, actually.” Morpheus replied in a delighted tone, “Why, were you ready to apologize?” 

“Not exactly.” Sabine shook her head, “I was just asking in case I needed to throw it at you again to prove my point. You have a smudge across your nose from it.” 

Morpheus began to wipe it at first, but she stopped his hand by holding her palm up. 

“Allow me. It’s my turn anyways.” Sabine muttered, taking the curve of her thumb against his skin and wiping away at the smudge there. But, the smudge remained. Morpheus was in such close proximity, nearly scoffing at her sudden concern. 

“I can get it myself, you know.” Morpheus uttered. 

“Shh!” Sabine hushed, “Hold still, it’s my mess, I might as well make it up to you after making a fool of you out there.” 

Perhaps this wasn’t an official apology, as Morpheus hesitated to be near her touch. But with each flick of her thumb, he felt any thinning patience be fortified once more. He relaxed slightly, feeling her soft palm beneath his chin in one hand. She was holding power in her hands without realizing it. 

It wasn’t entirely lost on her either. In her space, it felt intoxicating. Her eyelids relaxed. He smelled faintly of vetiver and amber, salt being the first note across his skin as if he were in the ocean hours prior. His hair shone softly in the light from behind them, a dark blue hue in the black, similar to raven wings. 

Sabine licked the inner sleeve of her nightgown lightly, normal judgment failing to see a problem with this. She was too tired to think so. Her hand cradled beneath his chin, as Morpheus leaned into her touch. He dared not to question the gentle dampness of her inner sleeve or its origins. 

The mark was gone as quickly as it appeared. Sabine dried it with the other sleeve, soon fixing a small streak of hair falling into his eyes. The sensation sent a chill down her spine at the touch. She felt it then- electric still, as he looked up at her again. 

The Endless hadn’t moved an inch since she started. He was a beautiful stone statue beneath her hands, before pulling away quickly. 

“There.” Sabine irked softly, “It was just going to bother me unless I wiped it off myself.” 

“Very well.” Morpheus nodded, “It is appreciated. I must commend you for your sharp aim, it was most impressive.” 

“I’ve done worse with an ax.” Sabine thwarted, “If you cross me again, you’ll see.” 

“My dear Sabine, you will never need to show me.” Morpheus insisted. His voice felt balmy in her ears at the sound of “dear”. Sabine swallowed hard. He was being too sweet now. She had to continue being angry. 

“There is much more I’d like to learn from you.” Morpheus spoke, “And more than before, I wish to learn more of you beyond the end of an ax. Will you give me the chance to? In exchange, I will return the favor.” 

Sabine crossed her arms, thinking over the decision. Her body was sore. She already felt embarrassed in her state after throwing something at his head. The urge to apologize was beginning to outweigh her anger. 

“Yes.” Sabine nodded, looking at the floor, “I do. Just…. Please don’t use it against me. If it’s about that nightmare, or the Dream Stone-” 

“There is a place I must show you.” Morpheus added, “You have not seen the beauty of Fiddler’s Green. It stormed in anger when you were away. Would you care to walk beside me through it?” 

Sabine inhaled softly, “Yes. I would like to. But not today.” She nodded, “I’m very tired. My back hurts, I’m starving, and I need a bath. And I’m still angry with you. However, tomorrow….” 

Her tone grew more fatigued. Morpheus leaned in.

“Tomorrow?” He hummed, his voice as tender as firewood smoke. 

Sabine’s cheeks were changing color, “Tomorrow may be a different story!” Her tone shimmered short, “I don’t know. I know tomorrow I’ll be in a better mood. I’ve suffered a nightmare worse than death and need space. Can you grant me that, for a day?”  

The air was much colder in Morpheus’s throne room than she realized, as she crossed her arms deeper across her chest. 

“As you wish,” Morpheus said, “I will see you tomorrow in better spirits.” 

“I’ll see you then.” Sabine said softly, “Is the afternoon a good time for you, or do you have some sort of itinerary to keep up with?” 

“You do not need to keep up with anything.” Morpheus reassured, “Evangeline can always contact me first when you are ready.” 

“Fair.” Sabine nodded, “I have to go. I’m exhausted.” 

She wasn’t lying to get away from the Endless, or the feeling in her stomach at the sound of his beautiful voice and angular face or the burning sensation in her palms from where they touched. The fatigue made her ache, as she dreamed of a hot bath alone. Enough heat could be used to keep any thoughts away until tomorrow. 

“Rest well, Sabine.” Morpheus opened the doors for her without touching them once, “I shall see you tomorrow.” 

Sabine walked away without another word in a daze. She looked around the outside, seeing a cluster of Dream’s creations scuttling from around the corner. The last of them, was Mervyn, who pretended to scrub a wall with a dry cloth, his gaze purposefully glued to the wall and not Sabine. 

“Hey, Mervyn.” Sabine muttered with a quick wave, “Did you hear all of that?” 

“I don’t know anything.” Mervyn bashfully spoke, “About nothing.” 

“Uh huh.” Sabine side eyed, “It’s good to be back.” 

“It’s good to have you back.” Mervyn said in a genuine tone, leaning on his broomstick for support, “Are you still mad at him?” 

“.... Ask me again tomorrow.” Sabine spoke, her voice raspy, slowly hobbling down the corner without another word. 

The echo of Morpheus’s voice lay thick in her mind as she floated on the surface of her Turkish bath, surrounded by plumeria-scented soap, as she forced her head beneath the water to flush it out. Nothing worked to drown him out, as she fell asleep in the bath, the waters warm and soothing, so soothing she didn’t take notice of a gentle force that carried her from the bath to her bed. 

_____________________________________________

Lucienne dabbed the corners of her eyes behind her glasses, after recounting the tale of what she witnessed with Matthew in the smallest corner of her library. Matthew was snickering as well, beak agape as she told him everything. 

“No fucking way.” Matthew tittered, “Her slipper? Right to the face? And he didn’t kill her?” 

“No!” Lucienne wheezed, “I don’t think he knew what to do. No human has ever- EVER!” another deep wheeze from her chest came over, turning into a cough. 

“Oh my god?” Matthew sighed, “She just got back and gave him a reason to kick her out again. When do you think it’ll all hit the fan between those two?” 

Mervyn ran around the corner of the entrance to Lucienne’s library, nearly slipping on the pristine floors in his lanky old boots, another hand keeping his head on tight. His footsteps slowed, still squeaking against the perfect floors on approach to Lucienne and Matthew. 

“Jesus!” Matthew chided. 

Lucienne leaned in, her eyes wide, “Well? What did you hear?!” 

“She’s still pissed.” Mervyn informed, out of breath, “But she’s not mad. I asked if she was, she said ask tomorrow. They’re going to meet… Well, whenever they meet. He wants her to rest first.” 

“As he should.” Lucienne cleared her throat, “And Sabine?” 

“Poor thing is beat.” Mervyn observed, “Sweet girl barely could keep her eyes open but still said hi to me. She cleaned off the mark…. The one she made on him. She did it herself.” 

Lucienne exchanged looks with Matthew. 

“She did?” Lucienne asked, “Herself? On her own accord?” 

“In her words, she made a mess, she intended to clean it up.” Mervyn added, “And he let her.” 

Matthew softened at the sentiment. All shifted their focus to the location of Sabine’s book in the library, to find it missing. Instead of its regular perch, it was on top of Lucienne’s front desk, with the bookmark left long after its initial page. 

“I reckon she isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, huh?” Matthew noted, "It doesn't seem like that book is going to stop writing itself.” 

Lucienne’s brows flicked upward, a smile growing across her face. 

“It’ll be on him to accept it. On both of them.” Lucienne spoke ominously, “But you’re right, Matthew. Only time will tell.” 

Something had shifted upon her return. They felt it, deep down in their core. A soft spot had formed in the Endless, which had formed in everything he created. It was just a matter of time before anyone could speak for it.