#and honestly it is a wild ride to just see how far you've come holy fuck

[sentfromwolves]

I'M READING THROUGH AN OLD DRAFT OF HBABL and straight up I forgot it existed and that I wrote it and I'm honestly so sad some of this truly unhinged zero draft bullshit isn't in here anymore, like:

[thepaintedlady00]

The Sandman and The Girl Without Dreams

Chapter 11: Write My Name In Your Blood

TW: mentions of blood, panic attacks, mental breakdowns, Pierre is an ass, SMUT holy cow, smut, Jealous/possessive Dream, aftercare, Fluff, memories, its a wild ride yall

“It’s so good to see you, after all these years Ms. Barlow." The voice made my entire body ache, phantom pain bringing forth every memory of every slice and shock that had followed that voice for years. Terror filled me as my body moved back into the table. I wanted to run, my whole being screamed at me to run, but I couldn't move. “It has been far too long, my dear.”

I forced myself to keep breathing. Forced myself to ignore the way my skin crawled just at the sound of his voice. I cleared my throat, the words still coming out weak. "You sound like shit. Half assed immortality isn't all it's cracked up to be?"

"Ah so unruly. But you and I both know why that is." Tears began to fill my eyes. I knew exactly what he'd say. He'd said it so many times before. Giselle's body stumbled forward a bit. "If you let go of the anger, what are you, Ms. Barlow?"

My mind answered the question out of instinct. Nothing. But I bit my cheek, refusing to give him even the smallest amount of satisfaction of saying the word. The pale eyes sparkled and a bloody smile spread on Giselle's lips, but it was his. "Nothing. You are nothing."

"What do you want?" Pierre demanded from beside me, his body moved trying to shield Dream from view.

"Ahh The Marquis," the doctor said with a sigh. "I've been waiting so long to put a face to the name of the man that stole my money and broke our deal."

Pierre shrugged. "I'd say it was not personal but I don't like to lie."

The pale eyes shifted behind him. No. My body moved too slowly to block his view. "You did not tell me I was in the presence of the great Dream of the Endless."

"He has nothing to do with this," I said shakily.

"Does he not?" He chuckled and coughed. "Fear not, dear, so long as he remains out of our affairs I'll keep the glass cage empty. As for the matter at hand, I wanted to speak with you myself, to try and make you see sense, but…" They eyes looked to the bodies on the floor. "You've not changed, still refusing to see reason."

I ground my teeth together. "Go to Hell."

Another wheezing laugh and a gentle click of his tongue. "I'll see you again soon, with my real eyes. In the meantime you may want to call your friend… I fear she's run into a bit of trouble."

Johanna. I resisted the urge to immediately break. Pierre pulled his gun and shot out before I even recognized it, Giselle's head snapped back and she fell back to the ground. The phone on the table shattered and everyone was silent, still waiting to be sure he was gone. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and shakily dialed Johanna's number, holding it tight in my hand as it rang out on speaker. "Pick up." The ringing droned on. "Pick up the fucking phone Johanna!" I yelled, repressing the tears as the ringing trilled in. "God damn it…" Not again. No. No. No.

"Hello?" She answered weakly. "Pen, you there?"

Pierre took the phone from my hands, recognizing the familiar sight of me about to completely shut down. "We're here, witch."

I forced air into my lungs, desperately trying to calm the shaking. Their words blurred in and out of my hearing as my ears rang. "How is she?" Johanna asked.

"Not so good," he answered honestly. "I don't know if she can even hear us."

"Fucking bastard. When you get her back tell her I said I'm okay, it was just some thugs, no one good enough to get me."

Pierre knelt beside me from where I'd dropped onto my knees. When had I done that? He carefully reached out and touched my arm, finger curling around the scar. Pain, screams, blood everything boiled over and my body moved faster than my mind did, grabbing one of the daggers from the box and pressing it tightly to his sternum. 

He went still, holding a hand up to Dream and Hob. Oh god, what would they think of me after this? The tip of the blade broke the skin as I heaved. "Look at me, Penelope." My name was wrong… Nothing. I squeezed my eyes shut. You're nothing. "Look at me, Ma moitié."

Ma moitié… Pierre. This was Pierre, my friend, my Pierre. I opened my eyes, looking up into his eyes as he smiled. "There you go. It's me… your other half."

My lips quivered as I breathed out a sob. He slowly lifted a hand to my face, wiping away my tears. "It's okay." How did they find me? The ugly, mistrusting and dark part of my soul reared its head, but Pierre noticed. Of course he did. "I made you a promise, you remember? I will never hurt you," he said softly. "I will never betray you."

Pierre. My mind finally came back into connection with my body and I eased the knife away from him, dropping it to the ground. His arms were around me in an instant, crushing me to his chest as broke down. "He's not here. He's gone. I have you."

***

“It’s so good to see you, after all these years Ms. Barlow,” an old faintly familiar voice filled the room. Penelope’s stillness twisted into absolute terror and she moved to step back, trying to flee the voice, running into the table. “It has been far too long, my dear.”

This was him. Finally. Dream had been waiting to meet this doctor ever since he saw his face, saw what he'd done to Penelope, his Penelope. His eyes were glued to her ridged back, the bond between them swarmed and flooded with everything she felt. Her urge to run made him burn. Her want to slice the skin from her bones just to be free of the wrong feeling that coated her at the sound of that voice made his anger near uncontainable.

She made a noise, soft and forced. "You sound like shit. Half assed immortality isn't all it's cracked up to be?" It lacked all the venom and fire he was used to hearing. His gut twisted… She sounded scared. Never had he heard this voice, never had she allowed this raw, vulnerable weakness be heard by anyone, not even him.

A wheezing sound echoed in the room, a laugh following that made him burn hotter. "Oh, don't worry about me, dear. I'll remedy my condition as soon as you get here."

"Yeah? When I do find you I'm going to fucking kill you!" It wasn't a scream, nor a yell, but something in between. Something raw and animalistic, forced.

"Temper temper," the old man dared to mock her, to scold her like a child? "You were always so unruly. But you and I both know why that is." A broken sound left her, soft, so soft he doubted anyone but him heard it. "If you let go of the anger, what are you, Ms. Barlow?"

"Nothing." It was her voice, broken and shaking. 

"Nothing. You are nothing."

"Nothing." She thought again. "I am nothing."

"What do you want?" The Frenchman demanded, moving just a little bit further in front of him.

"Ahh The Marquis. I've been waiting so long to put a face to the name of the man that stole my money and broke our deal."

This was perhaps the only time the man's smugness made Dream happy as he answered, "I'd say it was not personal but I don't like to lie."

The pale eyes shifted to Dream, and he held the stare, watching a grotesque smile spread on the dead woman's face. "No." She moved to block him from view, but the damage was done. "You did not tell me I was in the presence of the great Dream of the Endless."

Dream was proud, glad that this man knew who he was and thus knew, even just a fraction of what horrors laid in store for him when Penelope freed him of his oath. The feeling didn't last long though, not when his lady sounded so afraid, "He has nothing to do with this."

"Does he not?" Weak coughing filled the small devices speakers. "Fear not, dear, so long as he remains out of our affairs I'll keep the glass cage empty. As for the matter at hand, I wanted to speak with you myself, to try and make you see sense, but… You've not changed, still refusing to see reason."

"Go to Hell."

"I'll see you again soon, with my real eyes. In the meantime you may want to call your friend… I fear she's run into a bit of trouble." His eyes returned to her, watching as his words struck.

"Johanna."

 The Frenchman shot the corpse, its head snapping back as it returned to the ground. The phone on the table shattered and the room went quiet, waiting. Penelope moved fast, pulling out her phone and dialing the number, clutching with all her might.Her hands were shaking so badly Dream couldn't see the screen clearly. Just this once he focused fully on her through the bond, honing in on every thought and feeling. 

"Pick up." Desperation and fear held her voice, the raw pain of old faces flashing in her eyes, filling her vision. It was enough to make him want to weep, but her thoughts are what truly broke him. "Not her. Please don't take her from me. I can't do this. Icanticanticant."

"PICK UP THE FUCKING PHONE JOHANNA!" She screamed her hand pulling at her hair so tightly he could feel it on his own scalp. "Answer. Answer the phone." The ringing echoed in her ears as her thoughts began to drown out every other noise.

"God damn it…" Her breaths were quick and ragged, "Not again. No. No. No. This is your fault. It's always your fault. You did this."

"Hello?" Constsntine spoke, sounding as if she was out of breath, but Penelope didn't move. The phone began to slip out of her loosening hands. His body twitched forward, but the Frenchman was already there. He caught the phone, worried eyes roving over Penelope as she stumbled back. "Pen, you there?"

He spoke softly, his eyes staying on Penelope. "We're here, witch."

Constantine sighed. "What happened?"

"The doctor decided to pay us a visit."

"In person?"

"No, through Giselle and a phone call." The Frenchman said.

Constantine kicked someone over the phone. "How many did she have to kill?"

The man looked at the bodies on the floor. But Dreams' gaze turned back to her as she slid to her knees, her hand clutching the box where her blades rested for dear life. "They'll never stop. They'll just keep coming and coming and coming." Her pain echoed through him. "Seven."

"How is she?"

"Not so good. I don't know if she can even hear us."

"Fucking bastard. When you get her back tell her I said I'm okay, it was just some thugs, no one good enough to get me."

"I will send one of my associates to help you clean up. Be safe, witch."

"You too, Frenchie."

He set her phone back on the table and spoke softly. "Penelope?"

She didn't respond.

The Frenchman knelt down, carefully reaching out and touching her arm. Dream heard the dam holding back her memories break. He heard every one of their voices fill her mind, all the screams of the asylum, the doctors drills and blades, everything. She'd moved almost too fast for him to notice, grabbing one of the daggers from the box and pressing it against the Frenchmans chest. 

As much as Dream disliked the man, he was important to her and he knew she'd never forgive herself if she hurt him. He took a step, moving to stop her. The Frenchman held hand up, stopping him. She dug the tip of the blade deeper as her breaths grew heavier. "Look at me, Penelope."

"Wrong… I'm nothing. Nothing. You're nothing." He wanted to go to her, wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her until every last one of these thoughts was silent.

"Look at me, Ma moitié." The man said, voice still soft.

"Ma moitié." The affectionate name stilled the cries and screams. "My Pierre." He felt a pinch of jealousy rise in him, but forced it away. None of that mattered right now. All that he cared about was bringing her back from the darkness that swallowed her mind.

"There you go. It's me… your other half." He lifted a hand to wipe the tears from her cheek. "It's okay." 

"Liar." Her thoughts hissed. "He told them. He led them here. No. No. How did they find me?"

As if he could see the dark thoughts in her eyes the Frenchman smiled. "I made you a promise, you remember? I will never hurt you. I will never betray you."

"Pierre." Everything about her relaxed, the softness returning to her eyes as she looked down at the blood pooling on his shirt. "Oh god."

"It's okay." He assured her.

She was sobbing now as she threw the blade to the side and clutched his shirt. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" She chanted, pressing both her hands over the blood, as if it were a mortal wound.

He pulled her forehead to his. "It's okay," he said again. "Ma moitié, it's okay."

"He was here…" She sobbed, every inch of her shaking. "He knows!"

"He's not here. He's gone."

Dream watched her curl into the arms of her friend. He wished it was him she could find such comfort in. Wished he could be the one to console this side of her fears. He'd seen the memories first hand, but The Frenchman… Pierre had been there for all these moments when he had not. I trust him. She'd once told him, and only now did he understand just how much. Penelope loved him, she loved Pierre enough that her loudest, darkest, most consuming thoughts stilled at the sound of his affectionate name for her. It made him ache with jealousy and guilt, but he could feel neither. He just felt her heartbeat, listened to the thoughts and voices and echoes of the past fade away. Pierre had earned this moment. Earned her trust and love, and so, just this once, Dream looked down at them and felt relieved.

"I have you."

***

Pierre only let go once I was able to take full breaths, and even then he was attached to my side, acting as a shield to keep my eyes away from the blood and bodies that covered the floor. Everyone was silent as he picked my blade off the floor, cleaned it and set it back in the box. He looked at me and gently asked, "Do you want to keep them with you?"

I shook my head violently. "No. No."

"I will return them to the apartment in the morning. For now, you and the… Who are you?" He looked over the table at Hob, who looked more on edge than I'd ever seen him.

"Hob," he answered. "I own this place."

Pierre nodded, looking around. "It is very nice! Hob… Take Penelope to your home, it is up the road, yes?"

"Yeah…" Hob glanced at Dream and asked, "How did you know?"

"I was watching the three of you for a while before you came here." I shook my head at his far too honest admittance. 

"You can't just watch people," I scolded him halfheartedly.

"I was not watching people, I was watching you." He corrected me with a kiss to the head. "Hob, take her to your home. The lover and I will await my associates."

I sighed. "Nows hardly the time for-"

He cut me off. "Go get yourself cleaned up. We will join you shortly."

It was rare for Pierre to give out commands, but when he did I knew it was something he considered important, and that he'd likely not change his mind. Looking up at Dream, the first time I'd been able to since I'd picked up my blades, I asked the silent question, are you okay with this? He nodded, turning to Hob and asking, "Is there another exit?"

"Yeah, round the back. I'll get her out of here," Hob stepped around the table and held his hand out to me. "How's that leg?"

I took his hand with a tired smile. "The cut isn't too deep, but I'll still probably need stitches."

As we moved to walk past Dream he stopped us and pressed a long kiss to my head. "We won't be long."

I spared one last glance at the two before Hob and I disappeared behind the kitchen door and silently prayed they wouldn't try to kill each other. The cut on my leg burned the whole hobbled walk back up the road, and I dreaded the thought of having to explain all this to Hob. He was calm, surprisingly so for someone that had not only witnessed an all out blood bath but then saw a woman rise from the dead. Though I supposed to an immortal there wasn't anything he'd consider far fetched at this point. 

He helped me onto the couch, setting my leg up on the coffee table and moving to the kitchen. I stared at my reflection in the turned off TV and sighed. Their blood was everywhere, sticking to me like a second skin, and the longer I looked the more sick I began to feel. Hob returned with pain killers, water and a heavy first aid kit. "Take those, drink some water and breathe for a minute."

I followed his requests and nodded to the kit. "You gonna stitch me up?"

"If that's alright with you?" His dark eyes held that familiar tint of worry in them and I could feel the words rising from his throat. "I don't know what all that was about, but it seemed to be a lot for you."

"When you asked me what the worst ways I'd almost died were…" I paused, breathing in and looking away from his face. "Those people, the man they work for, they… They spent a very long time looking for me, hurting people to get to me."

Hob was gentle when he asked, "Why? I mean you're absolutely lovely don't get me wrong, but that just seems like a lot of fuss for one girl."

"Have you ever been captured?"

With a thoughtful him he considered the question. "Got burned at the stake once."

"Not like that," I clarified. "Taken by people that knew about your immortality, knew and wanted it."

"No," he said. "I haven't."

I wiped away the tears before they could fall. "I don't recommend it. They're not… They're not too keen on letting you go after they pull you apart and convince themselves that you're the key to immortality."

"If you'd rather wait for your friend to handle this I'll just clean the cut a bit… I know we don't really know one another that well." Hob sighed, eyes downcast. "I'm sorry, that you had to go through that."

I sniffed and shook my head, ripping the rest of the fabric away from the wound. Meeting his eyes I smiled. "I trust you, Hob Gadling."

He opened the kit and set out everything he needed before putting on a pair of gloves. The sound of them stretching over his hands made me flinch and wrap my arms around myself. Hob squeezed my knee. "If it gets to be too much just tell me and we'll stop, okay?"

My fingers curled into my shirt and I nodded. "I'm… I'm probably not going to be able to keep myself from shaking. I'm sorry I know that makes this harder."

"Don't be sorry, love," he whispered, wiping away a rogue tear. "I've got steady hands."

Hob was amazing. He talked me through every second, made jokes about how his stitches used to be shit and just as he'd said when it got too difficult to keep the memories of harshly sewn wounds at bay he stopped. I didn't even need to say anything, he just knew. He took off a glove and rubbed my arm, using his touch and his stories to keep me grounded. Once he'd finished he covered it and sat beside me on the couch, pulling me into his arms and letting me cry.

It wasn't the same as with Pierre, I'd not lost myself to the memories this time and Hob was considerably more awkward, but I appreciated Hob's gentle nature and understanding. He probably had a billion questions and yet he asked none that were not important to the task. I sighed into him, my fingers finally uncurling. "Thank you."

"Anything for a friend," he replied, setting his cheek to my head.

"So, burned at the stake huh? What's that like?"

With a chuckle he spoke, "Not the worst way to go actually…"

As Hob told his story I closed my eyes and smiled. He did have a very nice voice.

***

Dream watched the Frenchman with a curious gaze as he lit a cigarette and smiled at him, but he made note that this smile was not like the others. This smile was veiled anger and a burning determination that he'd not seen in ages.

"Dream of the Endless," he finally said, blowing a plume of smoke towards him. "When the witch told me who, what, you are I should have assumed you were her man in the glass."

He said nothing, his hands resting comfortably in his pockets, and so the Frenchman continued. "She spoke of you often and fondly, even almost blew everything to return to that hell hole and try to free you. She would do anything for you."

Dream tilted his head a little. "As I would do anything for her."

His smile grew more tense. "Maybe, but you'll have to forgive me for having my doubts. Loyalty is a rare occurrence nowadays as one such as yourself knows."

"Why are we having this conversation?" Dream demanded.

"I need to know you are capable of doing what must be done." He answered plainly. "Penelope is strong, stronger than anyone I've ever met. But when it comes to the doctor," he shook his head. "She freezes. Her anger and her skill becomes useless and he knows this."

Dream looked the Frenchman up and down. "And?"

He sighed. "And when the time comes to put that fucker in the ground you or I or the witch will have to be the ones to do it. Against his goons she can take down anyone, but he speaks and she crumbles. There is only so much her damaged psyche can take before it snaps… As we just saw."

"She's strong, when the time comes she'll do what she feels is right." Dream assured him. "She always does."

"You have been in her life for what? A month? Two?" The Frenchman sneered. "I have been here for ten years."

Before Dream could retaliate, release the swelling of anger that puffed up at his words, the door opened and three men entered. "Got your message boss, is this the one?"

The Frenchman turned and looked the man in the middle up and down before he nodded. "This is him."

The sound of bones breaking echoed, surprising Dream as he watched the man lose his knees, only being held up by the other two men. The Frenchman pulled up a chair and they moved him to it. With a watchful gaze he shed the coat he was wearing and rolled up his sleeves. "They call you Tony, yes?"

"Y-yes."

"Tony, would you care to explain to me why you were seen speaking to this woman, earlier today." He gestured to Giselle and watched the man, Tony's, face carefully.

He stuttered, fear and pain clear on his features. "I was… I… I'm sorry."

"What did she offer you? Money? Sex? Immortality?"

"Money. She offered me a lot of money." 

The Frenchman nodded. "At least you are honest. Sadly, this won't be enough to save you."

"Please! Please boss!"

Without hesitation the Frenchman began punching the man. The sound of his bones breaking under the Frenchmans powerful strikes echoed around them. Dream had seen brutality before, but this was cold and calculated. He hit not out of anger or a loss of control but to inflict a specific pain to a specific area. To send a message. He stopped for a short moment and sighed. "I would have made this quick if it was me you'd tried to betray. But it wasn't, was it?"

Dream couldn't see the man's face, but he didn't need to. The smell of fresh blood hung in the air as he whimpered. "Please… She's just… One girl."

"That one girl is worth more than three hundred of you." The Frenchman sneered. "She is all that matters! And I made her a promise, many years ago, I'll not break that promise because of worthless scum like you!"

The beating went on for a few minutes more before the Frenchman turned back to Dream and gestured toward the bloody sight. "I am willing to do what must be done, even when she would want me to be merciful. Are you willing to break her heart to do what's necessary?"

He scoffed. "I won't need to resort to such."

"You may think you're better than me all you wish, lover, but in the end I think we both know you'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe, just as I do." He smiled, taking his gun and shooting the man in the chair before holding a bag out to him. "Go, help Penelope get cleaned up. But think on my words, Dream of the Endless."

Dream took the bag and watched him speak to the other individuals before they began their work. When he left, the cold breeze washing the smell of blood and decay off of him, he felt a pit form in his stomach. If the Frenchman was correct then he would have to break his promise to protect her. He would, he knew he would as did the Frenchman it seemed, but would he be able to bear the brunt of her anger should it come to that? Would he be able to live knowing he'd betrayed her already fragile trust?

As he entered Hob Gadling's home once more a smile spread on his lips and all thoughts faded at the sight of her curled into his friend's arms, no longer crying or shaking. Hob was telling stories, voice soft and low as he rubbed her arms to comfort her. Upon seeing him in the doorway he smiled. "I think she dozed off."

"It has been a rather eventful night."

"I got her leg stitched up," he said. Dreams' eyes turned to the cut now wrapped and healing.

"How did she handle it?" He questioned.

"Better than I thought. Only had to take a few breaks, when the shaking got too bad for me to work." Hob smoothed a hand down her hair. "She's strong."

Dream nodded. "Very."

Hob chuckled. "As much as I enjoy the friendly cuddles she reeks. Think you can wake her, get her cleaned up? I'll get the spare room set up."

He knelt down beside the two and put his hand on her face. "Penelope."

Her eyes shifted beneath the lids and she slowly blinked them open. Fear filled her for a moment at the unfamiliar space, but when she focused on his face it disappeared. "Dream."

"You fell asleep," he whispered. "Let's get you cleaned up so you can rest properly?"

She hummed, squeezing Hob's arm. "Thank you Hob, for everything."

"Don't mention it, beautiful. I'll talk until someone cuts my tongue out."

Dream helped her to her feet, catching her as she unsteadily began to fall. She melted beneath his touch and let him carry her into the bathroom. It would be easier to return to The Dreaming and attend to her, but Penelope would more than likely wish to remain in the Waking World until her and her friends could speak on a new plan. He would have to return, as Lucienne had said, his realm needed him now more than ever especially with the dreams and nightmares returning. Matthew would simply have to be watchful for him when the time came.

Dream filled Hobs shallow tub and helped Penelope undress, and get settled in the warm soapy water, her wrapped leg hanging out to stay dry. He carefully washed the blood from her arms and face, taking note of the way she avoided his eyes. "Are you angry with me?"

She shook her head. "No, of course not!"

"Look at me, my love." He whispered, tilting her head up. When her teary eyes met his head smiled. "I'm proud of you. Taking life is not an easy thing, especially not for one as good and pure as you, but given the circumstances I'm glad you did it."

She frowned a little. "You're not… Disgusted? Disappointed?"

Tilting his head slightly he chuckled. "How could anyone who watches a beautiful goddess take down her foes with such grace and precision be disappointed or disgusted?"

His words brought a tiny grin back to her face. "I'm not a goddess."

"Weaver, I know I know," he mimicked the words she'd once mocked him with. "I love you, every part, even the ones that may not be ones you find beautiful."

"Thank you," she whispered. "For all of it, Morpheus."

He turned to the bag and pulled out two small bottles to wash her hair with. After helping her get out he wrapped her into one of Hobs robes and looked in the bag again. It was small, but full of necessities. Money, passports, first aid tools, personal hygiene products and a loose fitting pair of clothes that did not look like they belonged to her. He held them up, the faint scent of the Frenchman's cigarette smoke lingering in the fabric. Jealous once again curled in him. "Clothes?"

She smiled. "They're Pierres from years ago. I wore them so much after fights he just kinda let me keep them. Is that… Is that okay?"

"I'm not fond of your French companion, but I trust you. That has not and will not change." He assured her, helping her pull the clothes over her body. "Though I have a large collection you're free to steal."

Penelope laughed. "Of course you do, you can just wave your hand and have all new clothes."

He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips and grabbed a brush to brush through her hair. "I wanted to offer to take you home, to The Dreaming, but I have a feeling you wish to remain here."

"As good as going home sounds," she sighed. "I need to keep them safe. Pierre has the taste of blood now, he's angry and that makes him reckless. Johanna will take this personally and start cutting corners trying to dig things up faster. They need me to keep them relaxed, at least until we can all talk."

"I understand." He tapped her ring gently. "I know you do not want me involved, but should the need arise, call for me. Call for me and I will come."

"Even if I won't let you destroy everything and everyone when you get here?" She asked, though her tone told him she was only partially teasing.

"Even then. It matters not why you call, simply that you do. If when I find you it is peace you wish, I shall honor my oath. And if it is nightmares and darkness you ask of me, I shall deliver it."

Dream felt the shiver run through her as she smiled up at him. "You're magnificent, Dream of the Endless."

Pressing his head to hers he laughed. "You are far more so, Penelope the Weaver."

***

Hob led Dream and I to the guest room and told us to make ourselves at home before quickly excusing himself. Dream set me on the bed, quickly getting me settled before he turned. "I know you have to go back… But can you stay for a little?"

He smiled, already shedding his coat and boots. "I won't leave without saying goodbye again, I promise."

"Good," I mumbled as he slid beneath the covers and pulled me into his soft solid chest. I focused on his heart beating beneath me, focused on the steady pressure of his hand stroking down my back. The loud bumps and odd noises or Hobs home barely had an affect on me until the door opened and the floorboards creaked with movement, I jerked up.

Pierre caught my fist and smiled. "Apologies, was it me you wanted to hit?"

I sighed, settling back to Dreams side. "What are you doing?"

He shoved up beside me on the bed, his body curling around mine, pressing his nose to my hair he answered, "I came to rest, of course."

"In my room?" I asked, smoothing a hand over Dreams' now tense chest.

"This bar man only has two rooms."

"There's a couch."

"You would kick me to the couch?" He questioned softly. "Like a stray mutt?"

"That is what you are," I teased, moving a hand to hold his. His knuckles were swollen and poorly wrapped. "Who got the brunt of your anger this time?"

Pierre made a noise. "No one important. A traitor that needed to be taught a lesson."

"Is this traitor alive?"

"Sleep, Ma moitié." No.

"Pierre…"

"Sleep." He repeated more solidly. Dream had curled me even closer, glaring down at Pierre as he settled into bed beside us. He gave Dream a look. "Goodnight, lover."

"Shut up, asshole," I groaned, elbowing him and snuggling deeper into Dream's chest. "Goodnight, Dream."

"Goodnight, my love."

Pierre giggled. "You two are adorable. Tell me Ma moitié, how do my clothes feel against that soft skin of yours?"

I kicked him, nearly sending him off the edge of the bed. Dream smiled down at me and kissed me softly as I drifted off into a peaceful sleep, cocooned by the Dream Lord and my most trusted friend.

The next morning Dream was still beside me, just as he promised he would be, his arms holding me tightly to him. Pierre was also still beside me, speaking in French and taking up half the bed. As I came to I began to recognize his stories as our old sexual escapades. With a loud groan I shoved him clean off the bed. "Get out, you absolute dick!"

He smiled and winked at me. "Good morning my beautiful goddess!"

"Out. Now. Or I'll find a knife and cut you!"

Making his way to the door he wiggled his eyebrows. "Sounds like fun! You know there's nothing I'm not willing to try for you!"

Once the door shut behind him I turned to Dream. "I'm so sorry about him. He's an ass."

He gave me a reassuring smile and tugged me back into bed. "I'm aware, but it's alright. I think I've grown used to his antics."

"Have you?" I asked with a grin.

"He's a simple man," Dream noted. "His humor is juvenile to say the least, and he smokes almost as much as he speaks, but he cares for you."

We lay in silence for a moment, his fingers running through my hair and mine tracing shapes on his chest. "Do you have to go now?"

"Unfortunately, I do." I set my chin on his chest, looking up at him from beneath my lashes. He brushed a piece of my hair behind my ear and sighed. "You make leaving very difficult when you look at me like that, my love."

I giggled, a blush rising to my cheeks. "Sorry, I don't mean to make your kingly duties difficult."

"Will you be alright here?" He asked softly, the worry in his eyes reminding me of last night's disastrous outcome. 

"Yeah, I'll be okay. I'm sure Hob and Pierre won't mind keeping me company today. You need to get your work done," I said, brushing a stray hair off his forehead. 

"I'll return tonight to keep you company," Dream offered, pulling me up closer to him.

"I would like that very much," I agreed, pressing my lips to his.

Beneath me Dream practically vibrated. His whole body moved into the kiss, his hands gripping me tightly. He sighed against my lips. "I'll send Matthew to join you later."

"Stop worrying," I whispered, smoothing my thumb over his furrowed brows. "And give the bird a break. I'll be alright. Besides I've got two strong men to keep the bad guys at bay."

He nudged me, moving to rise from the bed. "I need to say goodbye to Hob before I go."

In the living room Pierre flipped through the channels on the TV, his dirty blond hair slicked back in his usual style and his casual attire sticking out against the finiary of Hobs home. Hob stood in the kitchen doorway and watched him curiously as he drank his tea. When he saw Dream and I he smiled, turning and holding out a tray of muffins. "Hungry?"

I greedily filled my hands with as many as I could carry before joining Pierre on the couch. He stole one of my muffins instantly before returning to his TV surfing with a grumble, "English television is shit."

As I ate I watched Hob and Dream speak quietly to one another before they shared some kind of agreement and Dream turned, coming to kneel in front of me. "I'll be back later. Call if you need me, please?"

"I will," I promised, pressing a long kiss to his lips. "Now go, get your work done."

Dream stood, his eyes sliding over Pierre with a look of something and a flare of jealousy passing quickly through our bond. Part of me wanted to say something to reassure him, but he gave me one last look, one full of trust and adoration, and I knew his jealousy was simply a gut reaction. He trusted me.

The front door closed behind him, but the black clad figure of him didn't walk through the streets. He was home and I envied him immensely. Closing my eyes and leaning against Pierres shoulder I sighed, imagining The Dreaming, my newfound home. I missed Lucienne and Merv and their constant antics. I missed Cain and Abel and Goldie and their bickering and showmanship. I missed the dreams and nightmares that had already begun to settle back into their homes. I missed walking through the palace with Morpheus' hand in mine or sitting on the bridge together watching the sunset. I missed the normalcy that The Dreaming had begun to offer me, something I'd known very few times in my life.

Soon. I promised myself. Soon all this will be over and we can go home together.

"So, what is this change in you?" Pierre asked curiously.

"Change?"

"You feel," he paused, searching for the right word. "Powerful, more so that you did before."

I nodded. "Yeah, it sounds nuts but I kind of discovered I've got some… String magic."

Hob sat up in his chair. "String magic?"

"I see these threads that connect people and, well, the universe." I explained poorly.

"So do we have these strings?" Hob asked.

"Yeah, everyone has one."

Pierre blocked Hob from my view. "Look at mine first!"

"Not bloody fair!"

"Relax, I can look at both of yours." I assured them, gently willing the world of threads up. It was softer here than in The Dreaming.

Pierres appeared first, bright and demanding. Orange with strong veins of red and pink and a thinner strip of green that, surprisingly, wrapped around his head. I told him his colors, my thoughts drifting to one of Luciennes books. Orange burns the brightest, life and love and adventure tangled into one thread. It is no surprise that those with orange dominated threads also burn away the fastest.

As long as I'd known him Pierre was blazing, burning through the world with everything he was, everything he had. As I watched him pridefully boast about his amazing range of colors I smiled, quietly hoping his fire would never dwindle.

"Mine next," Hob said, looking at me like a kid on Christmas. 

Hobs was obvious. Bright yellow with orange and blue, but the blues had hues of green in it. His was firmly tethered to his heart as I looked at it with a smile. "Yours is yellow, with orange and blue."

"What does it mean?" He asked. "The colors?"

"I'm still working it all out," I admitted. "But yellow I think represents warmth and brightness. It shows you're optimistic and lively."

He nodded, standing to deposit his cup in the kitchen. "After all the years lively is a good work to hear."

Pierre jostled me and smirked. "So, what fun would you like to have today?"

"The kind where we sit inside and stay out of trouble?" I offered up, knowing full well he'd never agree to such a boring thing.

He scoffed. "Sit inside? On such a lovely day?"

Hob moved to stand beside the window and nodded. "It is rather nice out."

"Not you too!" I whined. "Listen, we should just relax inside and lay low. After last night, who knows what those assholes have planned."

"Come on," Pierre pleaded. "Let's go out, have a bit of fun! The old bag and his goons will be laying low, you should get out now before they start making noise."

"I wouldn't mind a day in the town," Hob added, scratching his head innocently. "It could be fun."

"You two are going to get me in trouble!" I hissed standing up. "Come on. We'll have to run by the apartment so I can change."

The two quietly cheered and jumped to their feet, gathering their things and following me out the door. A little shopping and maybe some food wouldn't hurt anyone.

***

Dream sat on his throne reading through the current census Lucienne had made for him. So many of his creations were back, yet there were still many that were not. Part of him worried that his absence had caused them to lose faith in him… Had caused such a deep damage that even his return could not sway them to come home. This worry had burrowed deep into his chest over the past few months. It festered and made him feel uneasy every time he left and to compensate he poured even more of himself into his work.

He'd made several rounds through the town, though he was never received with quite as much enthusiasm as Penelope was, another thing that made his chest ache, but not one he would focus on. Dream worked diligently to restore his realm to its former glory, and to gain back the love and trust of his subjects, but he feared he may never be the ruler he once was.

After the sun had set he spoke with Lucienne on what information he needed next, ran new designs past Merv and briefly spoke to Matthew about flying to the Waking World to check on Penelope while he finished up his remaining tasks. He walked the palace, examining everything to be certain there were no cracks or missing pieces, and in his walking he found himself on the pier, looking down into the clearing water. 

During his capture the dreams of the humans grew dark and festered with nightmares, now he wished to see if they'd grown brighter. He knelt before the water, reaching out slowly and letting it gently tighten him into the depths. The nightmares greeted him with bowed heads and kept their distance, his power fully restored and thus his title and authority no longer something any could question. Moving through the water he viewed many dreams, bright and happy full of imagination and laughter. The sight eased the ache in him considerably.

Just as he prepared to return the sound of loud music and familiar laughter echoed from the depths. Penelope? He pressed forward, diving deep into the various pools containing her voice. The first was merely the image of her dancing in an empty room, the black silk dress hugging her form and her hair bouncing with the movements she made. In the far corner the dreamer sat, crudely stroking himself beneath his table. 

Dream moved to the next, something similar but more people filled the space. This dreamer had imagined a very poor look alike of his lady bent before him at his table. He scoffed at the horrible rendition and moved on to the next. Whatever it was she'd gotten up to in his absence it certainly had inspired these pathetic, unimaginative fools. The next was just as crude and poorly realized as the last. A terrible look alike on her knees for the dreamer, resembling nothing of the beauty he knew she was in any position.

It was the last dream that made the jealousy and pent up possessiveness unfurl. It was no mere dream, but a memory of the events that had inspired such. Penelope, his lady, danced happily among the humans, the black silk dress even more beautiful and revealing than the other dreamers had depicted. She was happy, Hob spun her around joking and laughing with her, but that didn't bother him. Hob was a gentleman. It was the other one. That damned Frenchman that got his blood boiling. His hands were all over her, holding onto her hips and moving with her as though they were doing more than dancing. His lips whispered in her ear, and though he could tell it was his usual jokes that Penelope would smack him for it did little to ease the curling ball building in him.

Enough. With a snap of his fingers all dreams surrounding his lady ended, and with a wave of his night filled coat he was in the Waking World, in her room.

On her bed an opened box with a bright red ribbon lay open. The card reeked of him, his smoke, and had some crude message in French. He'd bought her the dress. Dream sat on the bed, holding the ribbon in his hands, and waited.

***

Dream was already sitting on the edge of my bed when I closed the door, twisting a shimmering red ribbon in his hands "God damn you! Don't sneak up on me!"

"Did you have a good evening?" The tone of his voice was low and rigid. His mind and emotions clouded, as if he was purposely withholding them from me.

"I guess?" I answered, slipping my shoes off. "Are you okay?"

He chuckled low and dark, sending a jolt of heat straight down my spine and to my core. "No. I don't suppose I am."

The air in the room thickened with a heavy lustful need as he stood from the bed and trapped me against the door. "Oh… What's… What's wrong?"

His eyes gleamed like silver moons as he looked down the length of my body, drinking in the dress Pierre had gifted me to wear out on our night of fun. "Who do you belong to?"

"Excuse me?" I whispered back, nearly choking from the suddenness of the question.

"Who do you belong to?" He repeated his cold breath fanning over my neck as he moved his lips to my ear.

I bit my lip and clenched my thighs together. It was obvious he wanted me to tell him I was his, so obvious that I really wanted to see what he'd say if I gave him a different answer. "I don't think I belong to anyone."

Dream laughed against my ear, dragging his fingers down my shoulder and sliding the thin strap off it. "Don't make me repeat myself again, Penelope."

Fire burned in my lungs as I set my head against the door to meet his eyes. "Or what?"

"Or I'll have to punish you."

"Well, first, I'd like to know what's got you in your big dark mood."

A smirk. "You."

I watched his lips. "Have I been bad or something?"

"Not bad," he answered carefully, running a hand down the front of my dress. "An inspiration is perhaps more accurate."

"Why would inspiration be a punishable offense?"

"Because when you inspire a pathetic group of mortals to dream of you in your little dress I have to see it." Oh. His dark gaze flicked back up to me. Oh shit. "I found it amusing at first, but then I saw one of their memories of the events that transpired and found it far less amusing. Your body, pressed up against your friends. His lips whispering in your ear. His hands on you."

I swallowed. "Dream…"

His hand cupped my jaw, tilting my head back so he could look straight down at me as he stepped closer, pressing me impossibly further into the door. "Choose your next words wisely, my love."

Burning need coiled in my gut as the raw unfiltered ache of his jealous rage hit me. "Nothing happened. It was just dancing. I would never-"

"You misunderstand. I know nothing happened. I know who you belong to, but it seems your friend needs a reminder and you need to be reminded." Oh god. His thumb ran down the center of my neck. "So, my love, one last time. Who do you belong to?"

"You," I whined as he shoved his knee between my thighs, a pulse of heat rushing through me.

"Again."

"You," I replied louder, his hand gripping my hip and grinding me down against his thigh.

The hand now on my neck applied a little pressure. "Again."

I moaned softly, tears pricking the edges of my eyes as the pleasure began to build at a torturously slow pace. "You, Morpheus. I belong to you."

His eyes took in the sight of me, pinned against the door, hips moving against his thigh, his hand gripping me to control the pace. With a hum he shook his head, lips brushing against mine. "I'm not satisfied."

Pulling away from me completely he ignored my whimpering, took off his coat and set the ribbon on my dresser before sitting in my chair. I stood perfectly still, waiting for his coming instructions. He leaned back and motioned me forward with two fingers. I approached him slowly, standing in between his wide spread legs. "Kneel."

My breath trembled as I followed the command, kneeling between his thighs, hands squeezing them softly. He caught my chin between his finger and thumb, pulling on my bottom lip slightly as he said, "I think it's time we put this gorgeous mouth to better use, don't you?"

I nodded eagerly, listening to the sound of him freeing himself from the confines of his pants. "No more rebellion?" 

The words went straight to my cunt as I gave him a wicked smirk. "Perhaps later." 

With a nod, he released my face. "We shall see."

I didn't wait for instructions as I took him in my hand, pumping a few times before I dragged my tongue up the length of his hard cock and swirled it around the leaking tip. Our eyes stayed locked, his expression remained cold and unchanging. I looked away only to take him into my mouth, pressing my tongue flat against him, occasionally running the tip along the underside of his cock. His hands stayed relaxed on the arms of the chair as he kept up the unaffected act. We'll see about that. 

Hollowing out my cheeks I took him deep into my throat, not stopping until I hit the base of his pants. I held myself there, swallowing around him and humming at the sound of his fingers digging into cushions, at last earning a moan from the king of dreams. "Good girl."

I continued my movements, one hand digging into his thigh while I used the other to feel up his tightened abdomen. Through my lashes I looked up at him, the sight alone would have been enough for me. His head was thrown back, the muscles and veins in his neck visible in the pale moonlight. God Morpheus, I moaned in my head, watching his Adam's apple bob. I'd never get tired of looking at him like this.

When his hand finally fisted in my hair and held me still I loosened my jaw as much as I could as he began steadily fucking up into my mouth. Saliva pooled everywhere as I choked on him, but I didn't care, couldn't care. "That's it," he breathed. Morpheus, I thought wantonly. "Just take it." Morpheus. "You're doing so good for me." Morpheus. His fist tightened in my hair, holding me down against his pulsing cock as he came down my throat. "Fuck."

He released his grip on my hair and I pulled myself off him, licking up anything left over as he looked down at me and caught his breath. "Are you satisfied now, Lord Morpheus?"

He bent over and held his lips inches from my own before whispering, "Not in the slightest."

Before I could speak again he stood, stepping over me and moving across the room. He grabbed the floor length mirror in the far corner and set it up facing the chair with a quiet him as he retook his seat. Through the mirror I watched as his long lithe fingers stroked down his cock, still glistening with my saliva. His eyes, mere pools of silver in the darkness, met mine and he stilled. "Come."

I scoffed, that rebellious spark filling the air. "I'm not a pet, Dream."

"You would look fetching in a collar though," he mused, eyes trailing over me. "Come sit in my lap."

"If I don't?" I questioned, though I'd already stood up to comply with his command.

"Then I'll have to bend you over my knee." A shiver ran through me as I moved closer to him. "Panties off."

I smiled, slowly lifting my dress up and sliding the lacy black panties off of me. "Anything else you want off, my Lord?"

"No." I lifted a leg, moving to straddle him but he stopped me. "Face the mirror."

As I compiled my reflection greeted me, the black silk hugged every curve of my body and the high slit showed off a good amount of my thigh. Dreams hands ran down my hips, gathering my dress a little before guiding me back to sit. One hand held my hip while the other lined his cock up with my already soaking hole. He slid me down on top of him slowly, lifting the dress so the sight of him disappearing inside me was clear in the mirror as he gazed hungrily over my shoulder.

I was already gasping and panting, my hand covering my mouth muffling the loud moan tore through my throat when he'd finally pulled me completely against him, moving both my legs to rest openly over his thighs. Behind me Dream pulled my hands together behind my back with a growl. He pulled the red ribbon off the nightstand and wrapped it tightly around my wrists. Before securing the ties he kissed my shoulder, the gentle tenderness returning for only a moment to ask, "Is this alright?"

Through the mirror our eyes met and I smiled. "I trust you."

The ribbon pulled taut against my skin and he kissed my spine. "And that is something I shall never betray, my love."

"I know," I whispered watching as the glowing silver of his eyes drifted down to where we were joined, the dark possessiveness retaking him as he pulled on the ribbon, testingly. "Now what?"

"Now, you sit still."

My eyes went wide. "Wait, sit still?"

Dream smiled. "Yes, I don't want you to move an inch."

"Well thats, hardly fu- fuck!" I hissed as his fingers lightly grazed my clit. "Oh."

"Oh," he mocked quietly. "Oh indeed."

"This isn't fair," I whined as his fingers began their slow movements again. I could feel myself beginning to squeeze around his cock, but I couldn't move. His free hand had my hip in an iron grip, one I just knew would leave bruises. 

He chuckled, biting my shoulder and forcing another moan from me. "Punishment is hardly ever fair. And I am a strict king."

Dream continued his slow pavement for ten minutes then slowly began speeding up. But as was the way of things with Dream he refused to let me come. He'd bring me to the edge, watching me intently through the mirror and then just as the sweet release was within reach he'd stop all movement. After a half hour of this every inch of me was shaking, my legs trembled, squeezing his thighs desperately. "Morpheus," I whined for the hundredth time, my voice hoarse and desperate, chest heaving as I leaned my head back into his shoulder. "Please."

He chuckled, moving his hand from my hip to wrap loosely around my neck and pressing an open mouthed kiss behind my ear. "What is it you want, my love?"

His fingers stilled once again and I groaned. "You know exactly what I want!"

"Perhaps, but I still want to hear you say it."

"Oh? You want me… Ah, god damn you," I moaned, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes as his fingers built back up their movements. "You want me to beg?"

Morpheus hummed, the vibration of his chest sending chills up my body. "I'm open to begging."

For a moment I settled on not giving him the satisfaction, but that moment was short. My chest heaved as the pleasure of his fingers working my clit and his cock stuffed inside my aching cunt brought the coil in my gut tight once again before he stopped. With a broken huff I slumped forward, my head looking down at my trembling thighs. "Please, Morpheus. Please let me come."

His hand moved to my hair, fisting in it and pulling my head back up. "Look at me when you beg, my lady."

Our eyes locked and his glistened with absolutely unhinged lust. "Please," I gasped, my fingers twisting into his shirt from behind. "Please let me come. I'll do anything."

With a smile his eyes drifted down to where we were joined together, watching his fingers and smiling at the mess I'd made in his lap. "You have been quite good."

"I have," I agreed desperately.

"Will you continue to behave?" The dark timber of his voice nearly brought me to the climax I so desperately wanted. 

"Yes," I gasped. "I'll behave."

"Very well, I'll let you come…" His lips pressed to the shell of my ear. "Next time."

Everything stopped and a disappointed sob tore from my mouth. "Morpheus!"

He lifted me off of him and set me on the bed, my face pressing into the plush blanket as I whined. The sound of the mirror moving back into place and him leisurely undressing off to the side, just out of my sight, was torturous. I pulled on the ribbon, but just like all the times before it held firm.

His weight dipped on the mattress and without any warning he pushed himself into me, inch by inch. I bit my lip to keep from screaming as my aching cunt burned at the slow pace. God he was really going to drag this out, wasn't he? I pushed my hips back against him as his hand wound around the ribbon and pulled, lifting me off the bed and into his bare chest. One arm came around me, pulling my lip from my teeth while the other pulled my dress up and gripped my hip. "None of that. I want every noise."

"But…" I tried, my mind drifting to the poor men in the living room.

He pulled the ribbon harder. "Let them hear you. Perhaps this will finally be enough for your friend to realize exactly who you belong to."

"Morpheus," I whined as all the denied pleasure began to build inside me. The coil tightened and tightened until it was unbearable.

"Come," he ordered and my body immediately followed the command.

White filled my vision as a desperate and wanton moan filled the room along with his name. He pulled out, unwinding the ribbon from my hands to move me onto my back. 

My nails dug into his arms as he leaned over me, teeth closing around my nipple through my dress and tugging lightly. I couldn't have contained the cry of pleasure that filled the room even if I wanted to. His cock slid back into me with no resistance and he pulled my legs over his shoulders, nearly bending me in half as he pounded into me. 

Orgasm after orgasm, position after position, each more intense than the last until I was a moaning, sweaty, crying mess beneath him. His name was all I knew.

"Morpheus," I begged. For more or for less I didn't know, but he didn't stop.

"Just one more," he whispered, kissing the tears from my cheeks. "One more my beautiful Weaver."

"Come with me," I whined, fingers pulling at his black hair. "Please."

His hot breath fanned across my face as he kissed and sucked at my flesh as his hips began to falter in the harsh pace he'd set. Morpheus pressed his lips to mine just as my orgasm washed over me and his hips stilled in turn as he filled me with his hot come. We swallowed one another's moans for a moment before he set his forehead to mine. "Are you alright?"

I laughed weakly. "Absolutely!"

He kissed me softly, rolling off me and looking me up and down carefully. "I wasn't too rough was I?"

"Morpheus," I said gently, guiding his face back up to mine. "It was amazing. All of it."

With a sigh he pressed his head to my chest, running his fingers on the silk. "Forgive me. I should not have sprung this on you."

I scratched his head softly, running his smooth hair through my fingers. "I enjoyed it. It's quite a sight to see you let go of that ironclad grip you have on your urges."

He chuckled. "I like the dress."

"I figured you did since you didn't try to rip it off of me."

"I was tempted," he admitted, resting his chin on my chest to look up at me. "But decided against it."

I stroked his cheek. "We'll, thank you might Dream Lord for sparing my new dress."

He moved away from me, disappearing into my bathroom. Before I could ask I heard the water turn on and he returned, gently removing the dress from my body, kissing every bruise left by his hands. Then he lifted me into his arms and settled the two of us into my tub where he massaged my arms and shoulders and whispered praise in my ears and kissed me gently.

I closed my eyes, sinking into him. "I love you."

Dream nuzzled his face into my hair. "I love you too. I missed you today."

"As did I," I hummed. "Hob and Pierre are absolutely unhinged together as it turns out."

He laughed. "Tell me about your day."

***

Hob Gadling and Pierre sat across from one another in Penelope and Johanna's living room, each quietly sipping the tea Hob had made. At first the moans and desperate cries of pleasure had been quieter, easier to tall over, but now they filled the apartment.

Pierre smiled. "I still think she was louder for me."

Hob sighed. "There's no way. Sorry mate, but there's just no way she was louder than this for you."

"You think I am a poor lover?"

"I didn't say that." He replied. "But she's in there with basically a god right now. And there's just no way you're better than a god."

He scoffed. "I disagree."

"Morpheus!"

The two grew silent again. "Should we leave?"

Pierre shrugged. "Are you hungry bar man?"

"I could eat," Hob replied, grabbing his coat and following the Frenchman out the door. "It's Hob, by the way, not bar man."

"Hob. It's an odd name, no?"

***

I woke the next morning sore, but for the first time in a while it was in a way that made me smile. I could feel Morpheus curled into my back, his face buried in my hair as he lay beside me. I stretched my heavy limbs, the slight movement bringing Dream fully awake in an instant. His arms tightened around me and he breathed in deeply. "Good morning."

"Good morning," I replied, twisting to kiss him. 

"How are you feeling?"

"Sore," I said honestly. "But in the best way."

He chuckled, smoothing his hands over my body, lightly massaging me. "What are your plans for the day?"

I shrugged. "Don't know, but don't you need to get back to The Dreaming?"

"I was able to complete my tasks yesterday before getting… Distracted," he said. "So, you have me for the day."

I gasped and turned in his arms, rolling over on top of him. "The great King of Dreams is all mine? Oh think of the evil I can accomplish!"

Dream ran his fingers through my hair. "Evil isn't exactly your style."

"What is then?"

"Rescuing stray animals? Feeding birds?" He offered up. "Inspiring the fantasies of mortal men?"

I pinched his arm. "I personally had nothing to do with the last one!"

His fingers running up my spine sent goosebumps along my flesh. "Perhaps not, but you are quite an inspiration, not just to mortals."

"Do I inspire you, Dream of the Endless?" I giggled, nudging his nose with mine.

"More than anything," he offered up freely, eyes bright and swimming with love. The adoration he felt for me was almost enough to make my heart stop. I pressed my lips to his, savoring the slow unhurried way they moved together.

A knock at the door made me freeze. Oh fuck. My head fell into his shoulder as I remembered that Hob and Pierre had been in the apartment for last nights… Loud performance. Dreams pride was unbearable as he chuckled. "Yes?"

Hob cleared his throat on the other side of the door. "The French guy and I got breakfast ready, if you two are hungry."

"By the sounds of last night I know she's hungry," Pierre teased loudly. 

"God!" I groaned. "This is your fault."

Dream sat up, bringing me with him. "I accept full responsibility."

"Smug bastard."

I uncurled from him and got dressed, the marks far too high up my neck to even try and hide. Dream had returned to his normal attire and sat on the bed watching me as I fixed my hair. He came up behind me, moving my hands to tie the red ribbon into my locks. "There, perfect."

I scoffed at him. "The nerve of you!"

"Come, you need to eat before our day of fun can begin."

With his hand in mine we left the safety of my bedroom and sitting on the couch the two smirking men drank their drinks quietly. Pierre had a hundred jokes ready, I just knew it, while Hob looked more at Dream than he did me. I nodded toward the chair. "Take a seat, I'll grab my food."

Pierre was up in an instant, following me to the kitchen with a grin. I groaned and moved fast, trying to focus on buttering my biscuit and dishing up my eggs while he leaned against the doorframe. "Last night was quite the show."

"Pierre…" I warned. "I'll stab you."

He shrugged, tilting my head up to examine the marks in my neck. "He's far more rough than I'd imagined!"

I slapped his hands away. "Knock it off!"

"Tell me then, who's better? Him or me?"

I pulled my lips together tightly. "Sweetie…"

He gasped, an offended hand flying to his chest. "Him? No!"

"Sorry Frenchie, with him there's just…" I smiled. "There's real feeling. It's not about letting off steam or trying not to focus on something, it's just… Natural."

Pierre smiled, his real one, the one I knew was genuine. "I'm happy for you, Ma moitié. You deserve nothing but the best in this life."

I held his hand. "You deserve that too."

"Not really." He shrugged, kissing my hand quickly. "All the good I am came from you. It's something I'll never be able to repay, and something I will spend every minute of my life trying to."

"You already have," I whispered.

He smiled, pulling me in close to kiss my head. "Not even close, Ma moitié."

"Stubborn ass."

"Always."

The front door opened and shut quickly, bags dropped to the floor and the person that had come in moved quickly to the kitchen doorway. Johanna sighed, relieved and instantly pulled me into her arms. "God I was worried about you!"

I hugged her tighter. "So was I. Sorry about the other night, I wasn't…"

"Shut up," she insisted. "What matters is you're back to normal, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Grab your food, we gotta rework our plan before any of us can go."

Just like Johanna, I thought while following her and Pierre out into the living room. Dream and Hob now sat together, Hob finishing up some hushed words before he gave Dream a pat on the shoulder. I sat on the floor between Dreams' knees. "Everything okay?"

"Yes," he replied silently. "It would seem you've made quite the impression on Hob Gadling."

"Oh?" I twisted a little, looking up at him as I took a bite of my food 

"He was just telling me about how good you are, about how I needed to take whatever this is seriously and not hurt you."

I choked on my food a little and smiled. "I mean I would hope you're taking this seriously, Dream. You're in my head after all."

His hands rubbed my shoulders. "I can say the same of you, my love."

Johanna pulled out the papers she'd gathered on her trip and we sat for a while, reviewing the information. Out of curiosity I pulled the threads up, examining her odd thread with curious eyes. Her thread was gray with black and orange veins, but what made it odd was the yellow that was frayed and torn from the main thread, half even and half unwoven. The gray thread wrapped tightly around her throat while the broken yellow led to her heart.

If she'd been a stranger I would have had no clue what I was looking at, but I knew Johanna. I knew that deep down she was a lot like Hob, bright and lively and warm. The broken yellow thread was hers once, as was its placement in her heart. But, the years of this job, this life, had worn her down… Astra's loss had caused the thread to snap and for her whole life to be rewoven and changed. The gray wasn't like Destinys. His felt balanced and clear, while her felt like the beginnings of a storm, unsteady and full of things left unresolved.

Looking at it made me sad, but the simple fact that the yellow remained at all gave me hope that she'd one day get to reunite with that side of her. Pierre suddenly spoke, "So the bastard is likely operating here in London."

"Probably never left," I added, letting the world refill my vision.

"We need to dig up as much as we can," Johanna said, her eyes darting wildly between the papers.

I got her attention. "We need to relax."

Pierre scoffed. "After the other night-"

"The other night changes nothing." I insisted. "He knows I'm here, so I'll disappear for a bit, send them looking elsewhere while you two continue with the original plan."

"Ahh the old goose chase!" Pierre smiled. "I like it."

Johanna crossed her arms. "Where will you go? They've got eyes everywhere."

I looked up at Dream and smiled. "Dream of the Endless, would you allow me to hide away in your great realm?"

He smiled just a little. "Of course, my realm is always open to you."

"Problem solved."

Johanna nodded. "Alright, it's good enough for me."

I clasped my hands together. "Great! I'll go pack!"

Dream followed me shortly after and stood in the door, watching me pack my things. "They've all gone."

"Even Hob?"

"Yes, he had to go make sure the inn was ready to open."

"I should probably apologize for that, huh?"

"I'm sure he doesn't mind," Dream assured me.

I looked him up and down and asked, "Are you okay?"

He sighed, moving closer. "There is something I wish to try."

"What is it?"

Lifting my silver bound wrist he kissed it gently. "I wish to show you some of my past."

I looked at him gently. "You don't have to. If this is about what Hob said…"

"It is," he said. "But more than that, it's about what everyone's said since our reunion. Desire would use what I haven't shared to try and manipulate you. Hob fears my secrecy will cause you pain. Lucienne advises openness and honesty. Even Destiny has said I would need to open myself to you."

"I understand that, and they aren't wrong, but…" I pulled him closer. "You still get to choose when that is. I don't want you to feel pressured into sharing things you're not comfortable with."

Dream stroked my cheek. "I have seen the worst of your memories, without your permission, I believe this much is owed."

"If you're sure," I said once again. "What do you need me to do?"

He placed his hand in mine. "Put my hand to this silver thread. The one you used to see Destiny's hidden memories."

"It's cold," I warned as I pulled up the threads, moving his hand to it and directing him to hold it. The blizzard overtook us both and this time when the frozen lake appeared, Dream was beside me, holding onto the thread.

He looked around for a moment, moving along the rigid path forward, until the first statue came into view. "Nada," he said softly.

"Who was she?" I asked, looking up at the beautiful ice sculpture of the woman.

"My first love…" he sighed. "And someone that hurt me deeply, that I in turn hurt."

I lifted his hand, pressing it into the cold of the statue. All around us the memories of them played out in hazy visions. Beside me Dream was stiff. I could feel the love they shared, feel how badly he wanted her to remain by his side. Then the pain came, hurt and anger and confusion. The vision faded and the feelings with it. "What happened between you two?"

"It is ancient law that mortals and Endless cannot be together or disaster will follow. Nadas people were destroyed because of our love, and the pain this caused her…" He paused. "She took her own life, and so in death I offered her eternity at my side as my queen." I squeezed his arm tighter, the knowledge that another could have taken my place was something I wasn't entirely ready for, or fond of. "She refused and in my young and blind rage I condemned her to Hell, where she remains even now."

"You cast her to Hell?"

He sighed. "Yes. I'll admit, it was not something I saw fault in before, but then I found you." He turned to me. "Nada never would have been my queen, nor my equal. Even if she had accepted, you would have merely existed and been more to me and The Dreaming than she."

I kissed his cold fingers. "Can you free her?"

"Much like your mother, my forgiveness is what is required. When we were in Hell I was not ready to let go of my anger, bit now…" He smiled down at me. "Now I believe I may be."

We walked forward again, the next statue standing tall above us, one I recognized instantly. "Olethros."

Dream nodded, setting his hand against the ice. "My brother."

The vision of their family, all hazy figures and faces formed. Olethros was the only clear one among them. He announced his departure, met with anger and confusion and questions. "When was this?"

"1695." Dream replied. "Though he did not vanish entirely until shortly after saving you, this was when Destruction left our family and his realm along with his duties. He remained in the Waking World for a while, but never in one place for long enough that our family could find him."

"Why is he here?"

"I said much that day that I wish I could take back. His role was never easy, none are. Had I been more understanding… More open to aid him then perhaps…"

"He might have stayed?" I finished. "I don't know. I only knew him as Olethros, and we certainly didn't have eons together. But, he was his own man. No one could have stopped him if it's what he'd chosen, not even you, Dream." 

The next statue was of a woman and child, both appearing in light robes. Wordlessly he pressed his hand to the ice. All around us laughter and love and joy filled the air. Family. They'd been a family. As I watched the past him embrace his wife and their child I couldn't help but feel the sting of it. He loved them both so much. "Calliope, my ex wife and Orpheus… my son."

"What happened?"

"My son died," he answered solemnly, tears in his eyes. "Calliope blamed me. Her final words to me were a promise to never speak to me again."

The vision faded with the echoes of the pain. "I'm sorry."

Dream closed his eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks. "I was not the best husband to her, nor the best father. But, I loved it… Having a family of my own."

I wiped his tears. "I know I can't replace that… Can't give you the exact same as they did, but I can be your family."

"You are my family," he corrected. "You, The Dreaming, all of it is our family."

I looked up at him as he looked down the path. "You've lived a long life. Let this be enough for now?"

"How do we return?"

"Break the thread." I instructed, forgetting to warn him of the coming plunge into the lake.

We were huddled close together when the warm world greeted us, Dreams arms held me tightly to him, shielding me from any unknown danger. Shivering I kissed his chest. "Thank you."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm just a little cold."

His coat wrapped around me in an instant. "When you're warm, we can begin our day."

"Do you have things planned?"

"No," he admitted. "I want you to do whatever it is you want to."

I smiled up at him. "I'm proud of you… Of the ways you've changed."

He shook his head gently. "I've not changed. I am as I've always been, just… More inspired."

"As you say, Mr. Endless, Sir." I teased. "Now, I was promised a day out so, let's go."

Being in the Waking World with Dream was always awkward. He never knew exactly where to look or what was weird and what was normal, but to his credit he tried his best. Even as I forced him to try every food and look at every street vendor he never complained or made any faces. Honestly he was fascinated, studying everything with this look of wonder. It was adorable.

As the sun was beginning to set we sat side by side on a park bench. I watched a group of kids play while Dream picked at the sweet treat I'd shoved in his hand. I loved kids, their bright laughter and chubby cheeks. After seeing his memories of being a father a newfound want had filled my chest. Seeing him have all that with someone else… It hurt, I envied it. But, maybe we could have that one day too?

"Dream," I started softly. "Do you… Would… Would you ever want to have a child again?"

He turned to me, looking up at the children playing and he smiled a little. "If you'd have asked me not long ago I would have said no. But, that was,when I thought you were dead."

"So you would?"

"Would you?" He asked cautiously. "I never thought to ask. I honestly didn't think it would be possible after seeing all the…"

Oh. He thought… I shook my head, twisting my fingers together. "Oh, no. They never… I… I guess they wanted to leave that bit untouched… In case…" The words died in my throat, but Dream understood.

He linked our hands. "I enjoyed being a father, even if I wasn't the best at it the first time. I would be thrilled to have a second chance with you."

"I've never been a mom," I said with a laugh. "But, I'd be happy to give it a try with you one day."

Just as he pressed his lips to mine thunder echoed in the sky and rain began to fall. I smiled, watching everyone flee the park as the sunlight grew dim. Dream looked a little disgruntled at the change. "We should depart."

I stood quickly. "And miss the rain?"

He smiled. "I forgot I was with you for a moment. I should make you your own rain cloud at this point."

"Can you?!"

Dream shook his head, chuckling softly. "What shall we do in this downpour my lady?"

Holding a hand out to him I smiled wide. "Do Dream Lords dance?"

"No, they don't."

"Would you, if I said please?"

With a sigh he stood, taking my hand in his. "I can deny you nothing."

I pulled him in close and the two of us danced in the rain, slow and soft. After a while it felt like we'd become part of the storm itself and I cherished the feeling. "Thank you, Dream Lord, for indulging me."

"Perhaps you will now indulge me in an adventure?"

With a grin I nodded. "I love adventures!"

He pulled the sand pouch from his coat and gave me a look. "Don't say it."

I bit my lip, resisting the urge to tease him anyway. Instead I let him blow the sand and take us wherever it was he had in mind. As it cleared the old tavern came into view. I looked back at him with curious eyes. "Are we taking a walk down memory lane?"

"Something like that," he replied, leading me inside. "The last time we were here, do you remember it?"

Nodding, I looked around a bit. "Of course."

"Do you remember some… Thoughts you had?"

Ohhh… I thought, turning to him. "Yes."

Dream smiled at that. "Would you care to explore them some more?"

"Absolutely."

"Good," he said lowly as he waved his hand. "I've come up with some ideas myself."

The tavern filled with people, lighting up and taking on the qualities it held in the past as it bent to Dreams whim. Soft fabric rusted against my skin and when I looked down I was wearing a gown in place of my regular clothes. It was elegant and revealing, two strips of fabric around my neck connected it to the long puffy sleeves that cuffed at my wrists. The deep v of the front accentuated my breasts beautifully and the knee high slits in the side made movement easy. It was nearly see through with a multitude of golden stars of various sizes and placements.

"You've certainly given me a fine dress, Dream Lord!" I said, twirling a little, noting the way his dark eyes looked down my body. "Though I'm not sure how period accurate it is."

"Yes, it's a shame there will be little left of it when I'm finished with you."

Heat rolled through me as I looked back at him, adorned in his 1389 look with his shoulder length hair and billowing sleeves. "Is that a promise?"

His brow arched. "Does it need to be? Is that what you wish, my lady? For me to swear to you that I'll not stop until every inch of you is bare before me?"

I hummed, swallowing thickly. "It's a start."

"A start," he chuckled, backing me up against the table.

"Well yes, I should hope with such a magnificent set you had more than one idea in mind." I smiled up at him. "Or was this supposed to be a quick affair?"

Dream shook his head, a smile spread on his lips. "Quick is not something I would use to describe what I've planned."

My eyebrow quirked. "What is it you have planned?"

"For starters," he said, hands settling on my thighs. "A kiss."

"Just a kiss?" I inquired. "Rather tame for you, my lord."

He merely smiled and lowered his lips to mine, starting with a slow kiss, one that had me clinging to his arms for support as he stole the very breath from my lungs. When he pulled back to let me regain my lost breath he moved his lips to my jaw, trailing kisses lower and lower until he was biting and sucking the hollow of my throat.

My hands ran through his hair, pulling gently at the roots as I gasped and wiggled beneath him. "Dream," I said in a heated moan. "Please don't make me beg again."

With a dark chuckle he returned his lips to mine, kissing softly before pulling back to cradle my head in his hands. "I won't make you beg, my love. Not yet."

"God, your ego is astronomical," I murmured, pulling his lips back to mine.

This kiss was deep, our teeth clashed together as our tongues twined and his hands pulled at the front of my dress. The ripping sound was music to my ears and sent a wave of anticipation through me. When I pulled away his hair was shorter beneath my fingers, the flowy sleeved gone and replaced with his simple 1489 appearance.

"Hi," I breathed out.

"Hello," he replied, returning his hands to tearing the front of my dress open. The instant the chilled air hit my breasts I gasped and instinctually moved my hands to cover them. Dream caught them, pinning them to the table with a smirk. "I think not, love."

His mouth latched onto my nipple, his tongue swirling over it and teeth dragging down and tugging on it until it was peaked. He turned his attention to the other, paying no mind to the way my chest heaved against him or how my legs had spread wide and curled around his hips, desperately trying to pull him closer. "God, Dream just move forward!"

"Hmm," he thought, nipping and sucking hickeys into my chest. "Forward? Like this?"

His pelvis met mine, the firm outline of his erection rolling against my already aching core. A broken moan left my lips as my head fell back. "Yes," I gasped. "Just like that."

Dream ground himself against me one last time before he disappeared, my body arching out trying to chase his cold hands. I huffed and glared at him as he took a seat at the table across from us. His long hair cascading down his shoulders and the fine black clothes of his 1689 attire sitting comfortably against his pale skin. "You're an ass."

With a leisurely pace he pulled his cock free of his pants and stroked a hand up and down it. "Perhaps I'll just make you watch then."

"Is there a particular reason you've skipped a year?" I asked, eyes watching his hand stroke himself.

"Yes." He was too smug about this. "That year was your favorite."

"So you intend to make me work for it?"

"Work? No." He sucked in a deep breath, the movement of his hand beginning to get to him. "I intend to draw this out."

I stood, running my hands up his arms and stroking his face. "You think it'd end so quickly?"

"I know it would," his eyes flashed to mine. "You'd want your fill of me and I'd not deny you."

With a thoughtful hum I settled in his lap, leaving enough space for his hand to move between us. I placed my hand over his and kissed his jaw. "I could help, if that's the Dream Lord's wish?"

A low groan echoed around us as his hand fell away, leaving mine to pleasure him. "Yes, please."

My free hand wrapped into his long hair and pulled his head up to meet mine. With a wide, smug grin I whispered, "Told you I was gonna pull your dumb long hair."

"It's a good thing you're distracting me or I might take offense to that, my lady."

I kissed him, shushing him softly. "Just enjoy the moment, Morpheus."

Every sound he made I committed to memory, every breathless moan and soft words. Moments like these were rare, and so I loved the chance to savor every second. The usually stoic, hardened plane of his face was now relaxed, light and beautiful with thinly restrained ecstasy. I moved my lips closer to his, "You look good like this. Maybe I should do this all the time, help you get rid of those tense lines on your face."

He moaned, hands tearing the slits of my dress until they exposed my thighs completely now. "Surely your hand would tire if we did this all the time?"

"I have another," I offered. "I also have quite the mouth," he moaned, hips lifting and pushing into my hand. "Or we can always do things the easy way and you can just fuck me."

"An eternity of your touch, that does sound tempting." His eyes were blown wide as he looked up at me. Lust, need and an undeniable love hummed between us. "Though I don't know how happy you'd be stuck with me every moment of forever."

I smiled softly. "I'm yours, Morpheus. Being stuck with you every moment of forever is all I want."

As I quickened my pace, determined to bring him the pleasure he was chasing, he stopped me with a hand on my wrist and a labored groan. "If you continue that I'll not be able to last."

"Don't you want to come?" I asked.

"I do," his dark gaze flicked up to my face. "I want to come inside you." 

A shiver rolled down my spine and I pressed my chest up to his, the cold buttons stinging my skin. "Oh? Do you enjoy that?"

"Immensely," he groaned, pulling my face down to his mouth. He was unforgiving, the way his mouth demanded everything from me while also giving me more. His hands squeezed my thighs tightly, pulling me fully into his lap, smirking at the soft moan that rose from my throat as our hips aligned just right.

When I pulled away to catch my breath the scenery had changed. We were no longer in the crowded part of the tavern, but in the back room in front of the fireplace. Dream was dressed head to toe in the soft black fabric of the 1789 self he'd shown me. His collar high, blocking his throat, the ruby glistening in the light. His hair was puffy, pulled back into a small ponytail by a fine black bow. He smiled at me, taking note of my repressed laugh. "Problem?"

"This look is just a lot," I said, doing my best not to laugh.

He hummed, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Then perhaps I simply need to make you see the appeal of it."

His hands settled on my hips, lifting me for a quick moment before setting me down over his thigh. My fingers curled in the fine fabric of his sleeves as he urged me to move. "Riding your thigh is supposed to do this?"

"No," he answered, lifting my chin with his finger. "But you'll do it anyway."

"Is that an order?" I purred.

"If it needs to be."

"It does."

Dream sat up straighter, moving me harshly against his thigh. He grabbed my throat in a light grip and smiled. "Ride my thigh, Penelope."

I sighed, grabbing hold of his jacket lapels and nodded. "Yes, my lord."

He relaxed as I moved against him, dragging my wet, aching pussy against the softness of his pants. I couldn't help but be grateful that this was all an illusion, partly because of the mess I was no doubt making of Dream's fine clothes, but also because of the noises I was making. Each drag forward and back rubbed my swollen clit perfectly against the solid muscle. Each movement brought me closer and closer to losing myself to the pleasure building inside me. But, as Dream was keen on reminding me, I wasn't the one in charge.

His hand on my throat squeezed a little. "Slow down."

"What?" I whined.

"Slow. Down." He repeated, authority and power filling the room.

With a gasp I followed his order, disappointment at the now ebbing release that had been building up. As I looked down at him, one arm draped lazily over the arm of his chair, his body sitting perfectly straight and his eyes watching the wetness spread on his pants, I was beginning to like this look. He looked the part of king, even more so he looked intimidating, bossy even. "I think I'm beginning to see the appeal of this look."

His eyes dragged up my form, pausing to watch my breasts bounce with my movements before meeting mine. "Oh?"

"It captures your kingly intimidation."

A smile spread on his lips. "If you can make yourself come in the next fifteen seconds I'll skip straight to the look you really want."

I moaned desperately at the thought, throwing my head back and moving my hips furiously to try and achieve the new goal. Dream kept me balanced as he calmly counted. "Five."

God damn it! I cursed, his order to slow down had waned my progress too much. "Ten. Best hurry, love, times almost up."

"I'm trying," I whined, the coil in my gut tightening and tightening, but not fast enough.

"Fifteen." He clicked his tongue. "Why don't I help you?"

I looked down at him, now clad in his 1889 attire, the form fitting suit, the slicked back short hair, the ruby ascot and his top hat. He dragged his tongue over his fingers and reached between us, pressing them to my abused clit. I gasped, grabbing onto his shoulders for support as I ground against him. "This is a good look too," I managed to say between heavy breaths.

"You like it?" He inquired. "Last I showed it to you it seemed you were more interested in Hob Gadling."

"You… God! You were being a tease," I sighed.

He lifted the hat from his head and placed it on mine. "Hold this for me."

Without warning he lifted my hips slightly, his fingers working my clit sliding into me. His head dipped down to my breasts, tongue and teeth sucking and pulling at the sensitive buds until all I could do was hold onto him. "Morpheus," I whined. "No more teasing, please!"

Pressing a kiss to my heart he nodded. "No more teasing, come for me and I'll reward you."

My head fell back, one of my hands just barely managing to catch his hat. "God, please!"

He moved his fingers expertly against me as I ground hips down onto them, the release I'd been steadily building towards right in sight. The coil tightened and tightened when he spoke again, "You're such a good girl, riding my fingers."

I came with a loud moan, his simple words of praise filling every inch of my trembling body with the exact thing it needed for the coil to snap. His fingers gently worked me through the orgasm while his lips kissed every inch of me. "Your voice should be illegal."

"Yes, I believe you once said it could get me anything I wanted."

"It can." I breathlessly assured him.

"So I see." He stood, holding me in his arms and walking forward until my ass met the rough wood of the take we started at. 

As I regained my breath I looked at him and smiled. "Finally."

The longer slicked back hair and glittering earrings sent heat right back into my gut. My hands smoothed down the dark leather, tugging gently on the ruby that hung around his neck. His leather class thighs felt sinfully good against my still trembling skin. 

Both his leather clad arms boxed me in as he leaned down, the ruby swinging in between us and his face only inches from my own. "Tell me, how often have you thought of this?"

"Which part? You had quite the elaborate set up here, Dream."

"You're simply unbearable," he whispered, eyes filled with lust. He kissed my jaw, teeth grazing over the skin slightly. "Tell me."

"Ever since you showed it to me." I admitted, breathlessly.

His growl vibrated through my ear, lips moving down to press against my bare shoulder. I bit my lip, closing my eyes to take in the sound. "It must have been so difficult for you to be patient."

God damn you. I thought. "Don't pretend like you weren't thinking the same thing. Tell me now, mighty Dream Lord, how often have you thought of this?"

I could feel his smirk against my shoulder. "Which part, as you said, this has all been quite elaborate."

"I'll be specific then," I mumbled. "How often have you thought of fucking me here, in this torn up dress, in this crowded tavern?"

"Since you thought of it." He admitted. "You have a very vivid imagination."

I gasped as his teeth bit at my skin, my hands spreading over the tops of his and squeezing. "High praise coming from a dream lord."

The feeling of his lips twisting into a smile nearly made my legs give way. "Praise, such a lovely idea."

He moved away from me and knelt down, gathering what remained of the material of my dress and moving it out of his way. His hands lifted my thighs, pulling me to sit further on the edge of the table. "What are you doing?" I asked over my thundering heartbeat.

"I intend to feast at Hob's table." he pressed a kiss to the inside of my thigh and I moaned. "A reward for your patience."

He wasted no time, his hot tongue licking a long strip up my slit. My hands buried into his hair and grasped at the roots. He groaned against me, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to my core as his tongue swirled around my clit, slowly at first and then moving faster. My fingers pulled tighter at his hair and my head fell back, nearly pulling me flat onto the table of food. "Morpheus! Oh my god you're good at this!"

I could feel him smirk against me, but he made no move to pull away or stop. His hands held my legs apart, thumbs smoothing up and down my skin as my legs began to shake again. "Did you think I would not be?" His thoughts made me moan louder.

"No," I whispered hoarsely. "Oh, god… I knew you'd be good at this but… Fuck!" His tongue plunged into me as far as it could, lapping up all the remaining wetness from my orgasm. "Fuck you're too good at this."

He chuckled against me, the vibrations nearly making me come undone. "Morpheus, I can't!" I screamed as the building pleasure became told much. 

He pulled away, replacing his tongue with his fingers. "You can."

"Please!" I whined, pulling his hair tightly.

"One more and you can have me, my love."

His mouth was on me again, licking and sucking at my clit until I came. Dream lapped up every bit of it, pressing a kiss to my thigh before rising from the floor and tearing my dress in half. The tattered fabrics fluttered to the floor and his leather clad body leaned over me, the sensation of my bare skin against his warm leather was nearly too much. I shivered against him. "You in leather is too sexy."

He chuckled, moving some of my hair that had stuck to my forehead. "You think I'm sexy in just about everything."

"Well can you blame me?" I weakly gestured to him. "You're a masterpiece!"

"You simply enjoy flattering me," he argued.

"That too, but seriously, you're far too beautiful for this world." I kissed him. "I love you." 

"I love you," he replied easily.

I wiggled my hips toward him. "Are you finally going to fuck me?"

"Is that your wish my lady?"

Looking down at my bare body I shrugged. "You already kept your original promise, it'd be a shame to waste the opportunity."

Dream nodded, his eyes hungrily taking over me, hands following. "It would indeed."

He lifted one of my legs over his shoulder and moved me down the table. With one hand he freed his engorged leaking cock from his pants and lined it up with my still soaking and pulsing core. With the other he stroked my leg, turning his head and pressing a kiss to my knee as he slowly pushed into me. My hands gripped the edge of the table, head falling back against it with a loud thunk. The hot stretch was something I'd never get used to, something I'd never grow tired of no matter how many times he fucked me.

Once he was seated inside me, our hips flush against one another he leaned over, kneading one of my breasts in his hands as he pulled back out and thrusted back in. "Morpheus!" 

"I'll never get enough of you," he moaned, his hips moving quicker and his hands moving my legs to wrap around his small waist. He pulled me up, my hands gripping his leather clad chest as I gasped and moaned into his neck. His arms kept me from collapsing as he began ernestly fucking up into me. I barely hung off the table, his arms holding the majority of my weight. One hand gripped my hair, pulling my face back so he could look down at me. "Penelope," he set his forehead to mine and said softly, "I am yours… I have always been yours and always will be."

I pressed my mouth to his, joyful tears filling my eyes as we came together, his arms tightening around me and holding me to him. I pulled away and nuzzled my face into his cheek. "I'm yours, forever."

***

We had been back in The Dreaming for a week. Dream busied himself with work while I took to practicing my thread work. While both of us were busy we still made time for one another. As I'd seen in his memories he could be forgetful, neglecting even if overwhelmed, but he seemed to be making an effort to keep that from happening again. He'd said many times that he hadn't changed, but I could see it, as could Lucienne and Matthew and maybe even Merv.

I'd grown stronger every day, both at thread work and within The Dreaming. Licienne said it was normal, that it was simply the realm adapting to my authority. No matter what it was, I enjoyed it. Everything felt lighter, easier somehow. Spending most of my time with Lucienne studying the threads and practicing I grew very adept at finding my way through the infinite library. She and I grew closer, so much so that I nearly had her calling me Penelope. She was a good friend and a brilliant advisor and she loved this realm more than anything.

As I sat, going through the list of fruits and vegetables to craft a pressure built in my head. It was dull at first, like a headache, but slowly grew. I pulled the apple loose from the threads and voices began to echo through the library. "Lucienne?"

"Yes, Pe - my lady?" She replied, peeking her head out from the row of shelves across from me.

"Do you hear that?"

She paused, listening intently before shaking her head. "No, what is it?"

"Voices," I replied standing and honing in on them.

"You can do nothing," one said, dark and full of malice.

"I'll not let you use her as a puppet in your twisted whims." Destiny? He sounded weak, pained?

"Tell Dream I'll be right back!" I called to Lucienne before running through the door and into his garden. It was darker, deep storm clouds filled the sky and the hedges looked like they were withering.

I followed the thread, sprinting towards the center of the maze. "Destiny?!" No reply, just the whistling of the wind. I moved faster, a feeling of dread rolling over me. "DES?!"

As I broke through the maze and stumbled into the courtyard, blood coated the pristine rocks, leading over to the table where Destiny lay, clutching a hand over his side. "Penelope," he ground out. "Turn back."

I rushed to his side, pressing my hand to his. "What happened?"

"So this is the new favorite?" The voice, old and dark filled the garden. "I was expecting, well, more."

Turning my head toward the statues I saw her. Perched comfortably on a throne of black thorns adorned with rusted gold sat a woman. Her long red hair curled around her shoulder, the gold that speckled her skin shimmered in the dim light, but she was wrong. Black veins covered her arms, overtaking the faint black mark on her wrist. Beneath me Destiny groaned. "Leave her out of this."

The woman smiled. "Come then, little Weaver. Let's see if you're strong enough to best me."

"No," Destiny whispered, grabbing hold of my hand. "You cannot fight it."

"I don't think I have a choice."

The woman descended her throne and it crumbled beneath her. "You're nothing to them, the Endless. A pawn, a mortal. Join me and we can rise to our rightful place in this universe. No more rules, no more lies."

I stood, watching the careful steps she took as she walked closer. "I'm not interested."

A scoff, or perhaps a growl echoed from her. "You're a fool then. Just like Destiny. Just like Dream. Just like her."

"Her?"

She gestured to herself. "This vessel. Destiny's dearest. And, your predecessor."

"If you're not her, who are you?"

"I am just another nameless god that the Endless locked away out of fear."

Destiny laughed. "You were locked away because you threatened this world, not because we feared you."

"ENOUGH!" It screeched, dark tendrils pulling at its features, twisting to show the true face beneath. "I've waited eons for this. I'll not lose to a mere girl!"

I shrugged. "I'm a bit more than that."

Without warning it ran forward a golden blade in its hand and swiped trying to cut me. I dodged, moving high and low seconds ahead of its blows until an opening presented itself. With one quick shove to the shoulder I caught it off balance. Grabbing the wrist I slammed its hand onto the table over and over again, ignoring the way it clawed at my shoulder until the blade fell into the rocks.

Pulling my arm away I rolled, finding the knife easily and pointing it at the creature with a human face. "I'm not going to let you hurt him."

"Even after he lied?" It sneered. "Even after he withheld all the answers and knowledge from you."

"He's doing his job," I replied coldly. "A job I trust him to do, just as he trusts me to do mine."

"You are a fool!" It shrieked. "Just like she was!"

It lunged again, but as it came face to face with me, the golden blade at its throat the black of its eyes cleared, weeping gold shining through. "Kill me." The voice was soft, human, desperate.

"Lyria," Destiny breathed. "Please."

"Kill me, Weaver." She said again, pain filling her voice.

"No!" He cried out, desperately trying to rise to his feet. "Penelope don't!"

"KILL ME!" She wailed moving closer, pressing the blade deeper into her, drawing blood. "Please… I can't keep it… I can't…"

The black returned and with a bestial screech the creature was gone. The sky cleared, the hedges regrowing and everything returning to life. Destiny still lay on the ground, though his wound looked to be healing. Tears streaked down his cheeks.

I knelt down beside him. "Who was that?"

"The creature is an old I locked away in an old book of spells." Destiny said.

"And who is she?"

"Lyria," the way he spoke was pained, desperate. "She's my… She was.."

My eyes drisyed to the mark on his arm, the sane mark Dream and I shared and a wave of nauseous pain roiled through me. "What happened?"

Destiny sighed, his eyes closing. "The book changed and I did not heed its warning."

"What made it change?"

"You," he said so softly, remorsefully that it physically hurt.

I let out a shuddering breath. "I did this?"

His eyes opened again and he grabbed hold of my hand. "No. No you did not do this. I did." The tears in his eyes still shocked me. "I discovered a new Weaver had been born... You. I took you under my wing, all without telling Lyria. I was... I meant to..." He sighed again, tears sliding down his cheeks. "I was going to offer her my sister's blessing, at the price of her duties as Weaver. She and I could have lived together, here, forever."

"But you didn't?"

"I never got the chance," he admitted. "She returned from a journey, saw you... What you were and thought I'd intended to replace her. My mistake drove her to seek out knowledge, power, far beyond what she could endure. The being of darkness I trapped long ago twisted her, corrupted her and left nothing of my Lyria left but a hollow husk."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, knowing it wouldn't help. Nothing would.

He smiled at me. "Don't be, little one. The fault is mine and mine alone." After a minute he stood, holding his book and bowed his head. "You should return to The Dreaming."

I stayed still. "Do you need anything?"

"No."

"Will you call me again if it returns?" I asked gently. "I'll help you face it."

With a sigh he nodded. "If it is what you want."

"Thank you."

I left, following the butterflies in absolute silence. Destiny was living proof that my greatest fear was possible, that I could hurt Morpheus, The Dreaming, my newfound family. Even worse, the creature that had taken Lyria could find a way to hurt them… I could fail. As I opened the door back to the library, Lucienne embraced me, her eyes taking in my clawed shoulder and disheveled state before Dream came barreling into the room. Oh, Dream. My soul bound starry eyed Dream.

He was angry, speaking low and fast, but I couldn't hear any of it. I just saw him. He was alive, safe, they all were. As tears streamed down my cheeks I moved forward, burying myself in his chest. "I'm sorry," I wept.

Dreams arms curled around me, the cold sinking into my bones. "I was worried."

"I'm so sorry!" I pulled back and looked up at him. "I will never hurt you."

"What?"

"I swear on my life, on everything that I am, I will never hurt you or The Dreaming. I'll never betray you…" I was sobbing now. "I will always come to your aid. I swear it."

His cold hands cupped my cheeks. "Breathe, my love."

Dream pressed his forehead to mine, holding me securely against him. "Breathe. You're home, you're safe."

***

The Bull marched through the white hallways, undisturbed by the screaming and wailing that echoed from every room. Everyone moved around him, the nurses, the muscle, even the other hunters, he was above them - every last one. He straightened his shoulders as he came to the office door of the renowned Dr. Elias Shenton. Opening it slowly and entering even more so he bowed his head, folding his arms behind his back. "You called, Sir?"

The echoes of his machines filtered through the room with each breath he took. Where the broad desk should have been was now a bed, turned to face the window. All he could see of the doctor was one thin, sickly arm stuck with wires and needles. "Yes, Dominic, I called for you."

"How may I be of service?"

Wheezing breaths and light coughs met his ears. God he hated how pathetic they all sounded. "Give the order to begin construction of the cage and get me Ethel's book. Dream of the Endless may not be a player in this game she's built, but she was so desperate to protect him. He may still be of use to us yet."

The Bull nodded. "Of course, Sir."

"One more thing," he added as his voice faded into coughing. The Bull waited, tapping his foot impatiently. "I want The Marquis to be dealt with."

This time The Bull smiled. "I'll handle it personally, Sir."

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[br4inr0tx]

Hello there. Hope you're in good spirits. I was hoping to send in a request if you're accepting them at the moment. It's more of a request/ask, but what would be your personal headcanons about the Wild Biker Boys? Just any headcanons in general that you've thought of about the boys at their worst.

yoo it’s been a hot minute since of got a request. glad to feed yall some wbb content though fr. I will note though, since this is a very obscure media without TOO MUCH to dive into, so if any of these seem ooc, are already established in canon, or I end up my repeating myself for a few headcanons I sincerely apologize. I try to read pela’s lore on there blog as much as I can I swear.

tw - drugs, alcoholism, bugs, body horror, toxic coping mechanisms, and coii being a simp for wbb dice

Dice/Pink…

• I feel like with these new drugs he’s taken, he’s a hell of a lot more jittery. Maybe even more so then Varai sometimes. Sure you could say it’s the type of drugs he taken but honestly? I feel like even if he did try to lay off a little he’d become more and more shaky and restless (like a caffeine rush.).

• Deep down, I don’t think Dice truly likes what happened to himself. Nor does he see himself in any good light, unlike he plays off.

• As for pink dice, that fucker is a nuisance.

• I like to think of him as an eager puppy, always urging Dice into random shit he honestly doesn’t want to do. (Liking buying more drugs, for example.)

• I like to think pink dice is really into the guro art form, and likes to preform the scenarios on anyone who grows close to Dice (which he kinda does, in his Yandere ending.)

• Dice and Pink go back and forth a lot. So much so I believe Dice becomes an insomniac. He definitely doesn’t sleep much with Pink being active. Hell, sometimes when Pink is deactivated he still can’t sleep..it’s just became a long lasting battle at this point.

• not a headcanon but I am so thirsty for wbb dice..he’s so yummy like drive over me with your bike a million times omg. (If you got any pink dice art or headcanons hmu 🤭🖤)

Jeff…

• My guy needs a hug so fucking bad man.. the first time I got his ending with the melted face I genuinely felt unnerved too like holy shit.

• In LBB I feel like Jeff is way more up beat. He’d probably listen to more light, poppy music. However with his shift he’s listening to things more depressing. He guesses it’s because hearing relatable lyrics help him calm down just a little bit.

• He’s way more temperamental then he ever was before. Almost no patience at all. Even if he doesn’t blow up, you can tell he’s still very petty and sarcastically mean.

• Goes on speed rides on his bike to calm him down. Most of the time blasting music. He never goes too far though, since he knows he still has to take care of Jatay.

• He drinks more often then he used to. He shows up at the bar almost every night and ends up coming home slammed to which Jatay consequently leaves him alone.

• Shits been hard..and Jeff simply can’t wait until he care tear Y/N apart in the most brutal way’s possible.

Varai…

• He’s gained new bug friends! All of them are named (for the most part). Sometimes he forgets someone’s name simply due to the fact that there’s so many of them that look so alike. If this happens, he starts going in a panic and feeling bad.

• His ainxety though, has slightly calmed down. He’s more of a walking corpse then he was before, so at this point there’s barely anything he needs to worry about aside from natural everyday worries.

• He’s definitely more clumsy then he ever was before. I guess it’s just because of the whole zombie thing..literally how is this guy alive?

• He hates seeing his boyfriend the way he is. It’s the biggest worry he has right now, and it worries him that they might eventually grow completely distant.

• Varai has the same relationship with Dice, although I think he’s really scared of Pink Dice so he stays away from talking about him as opposed to Jeff or even Jatay.

Jatay…

• Bro is in his own personal retirement home.

• Jeff is his caretaker, ofc

• Jatay often feels bad for Jeff, in a lowkey way. Obviously Jatay is an asshole, so he’d never really say anything outright, but those feelings are still there deep down.

• He feeds his stomach pet thing himself, making up meals for him since he can’t really eat that good. It gives him the joy knowing he can still cook for someone other then himself or Y/N.

• Jatay could give less of a fuck about the state of the world. At this point he’s going with the flow, with which ever way that might lead him.

• Talking to Jeff more has actually..calmed him down a little more. Obviously Jataybis not who he used to be, and with his shape I don’t think he’d want to anyway. Long story short, he appreciates Jeff’s company a lot.