#its one of the reasons why hes trying to get used to the dagger than the sword. but it is a bit difficult to learn a new weapon

[aria0fgold]

My headcanons for the named trio in The Cursing of Chateau Castle series:

Josephandre is a big bear. It just fits for him I think! He gets he/him pronouns, and as a way to make him a liiiil more relatable for Mira, he'd have two craft types (Rock type being his main one and paper craft for the other). Battle style wise, I think it fits him to be more of a self-sustaining tank. He buffs defense, heals, and puts up shields. For his weapon, he'd use his fists like Isabeau. He'll be the second fastest in the trio.

Lady Irene-Janine-Kanine looks like an elegant noblewoman on the outside but she has vibes similar to Euphrasie! She gets she/her pronouns. Her craft type is Paper. Battle style wise, she's more on the offensive side, a main dps kind of thing. Most of her skills focus on buffing attack and speed, she'd have an item that helps regen her hp a lil bit and her chosen weapon is an umbrella. The tip is a sharp blade so it's used like a spear that has a hidden sword in its handle. Open it, and it becomes a shield! That'd be one of her skills too, although it's only applicable to her. She's the fastest one of the trio.

Pierre-Jacques-Erneste looks like a nobleman and carries himself as such! He gets he/they pronouns. Their craft type is Scissors. Battle style wise, he's more of a debuffer, skills focusing on weakening the enemies, slowing them down, poisoning them. Their weapon is a sword dagger, though he doesn't seem to be able to handle it well, how clumsy! But he Is a nobleman so it makes sense! Oh but... why doesn't he have a title? They're the slowest one of the trio, how strange, he seemed to be faster than Lady Irene-Janine-Karine that one time though.

[ghostbsuter]

"What exactly are halfas?" Constantine asks, cigarette lit and leaning against the table.

They were in the justice league, having attended a meeting previously and now just lazed around.

Batman loses focus on his laptop screen and openly looks at the two, interested.

Green Lantern, Hal, jerks up at the question, looking between everyone still in the room and trying (and failing) to seem uninterested.

Zatara is glaring daggers at Constantine's back, eyes narrowed.

While flash had no context, having just arrived back with his food to sit with the rest, he appropriately tenses as well, from just one glance around the room.

Superman and Wonder woman aren't different from batman, not as discreet as some are trying to be and just staring at the two.

Slightly amused, Danny decided to entertain the question.

"Unlike ghosts and the undead, halfas are created and not born." He explains, looking at the man when he writes it down.

Who knew the infinity realm were this closed off that John Constantine had to get information from the source itself just to keep updated?

"Care to elaborate?"

Clicking his tongue, he does so.

"Halfas get created during extreme circumstances, it has to be right place, right time and correct amount of ectoplasm." Danny catches the lollipop that Batman throws at him, sending the bat a quick smile.

"Not everyone can become a halfa, our race is a rarity amongst the dead."Constantine raises a brow, pursing his lips. "There are only 3 of you right? Is that a normal amount in the realms?"

Another click. "No, thousands of years ago, when our kind reached its peak of over hundreds of people, Pariah Dark happened."

He briefly shares a glance with Martian Manhunter, he wonders if anyone here sent out a message of phantom story time? Why were they all lounging around?

"It was genocide. He killed off an entire species just because he felt threatened." He shrugs.

Constantine jolts, eyes clear as if he'd just connected the dots.

"So his downfall wasn't only because of rights of conquest but— the reason no one joined nor fought between you and the old King was because it was a revenge kill."

Danny ponders the words over, nodding. Yeah that sounds right.

"Many aren't surprised that Pariah Dark went berserk. It was kind of predictable, considering his soul was brought to the Infinity Realms after he'd died in the Phantom Zone as you know it."

Hal straightens up, Batman tenses and Diana leans forward.

"This previous King of yours– he was a past prisoner of Aethyr's Mind?"

The halfa nods, uncertain now that he'd stumbled upon unknown territory.

"Yes, the Phantom Zone and the Infinity Realms are sister spaces. Were you not aware?"

They were not, he quickly finds out.

Fumbling with his words, mind working overdrive as he sorts through information, he speaks again. "They are the two sides of the same coin, Phantom Zone being non-habitable while the Ghost Zone is filled with unalive."

He briefly struggles with his words, genuinely taken off guard with the lack of knowledge.

"Aethyr isn't just a being, but someone who is connected to the realm itself. Its similar to my position as King of the ghost zone." He summons his crown of ice to simple gesture.

"Besides! Phantom Zone, Zero Zone? Anti-infinite? That's literally the opposite of the Ghost Zone, the Infinite Realms!" he exclaims, throwing his hands up.

"Could you tell us more of your realm?" Superman asks, voice gentle and non threatening. "Some of us have been in the Phantom Zone, so hearing that there is a place being the complete opposite?"

The halfa nods in understanding. "Sure, why not?"

Three simple words yet everyone feels the trust put on them with such information.

"The entire realm is an ever shifting space, we categorise eith the sectors of each afterlife. From the Greeks to the Yetis and different eras."

—

(The tale of his realm lasts longer than expected, it is only when Hal started to get ready to leave does Danny address a certain area in his zone.

"The... Emerald Space is also a sector of the Infinity realm. The sector itself is formed in a sphere like form, we aren't sure what's inside since the fallen lanterns keep to themselves rather."

Hal froze, eyes catching the ghosts, and looked away again. He'd tell OA of this, but now he was going home.

Danny watched him leave and declared it down for now, free for more question the next time and left just as fast.

At least Constantine and Zatara can update their books now.)

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Follow Me

Luke Castellan x daughterofares!Reader

Summary: Luke's girlfriend is excited to finally become a year-round camper so she can spend it with him. But Luke has other plans for them.

Warning: Major spoilers if you haven't finished the first book(/season depending on when you read this), canon-level violence, weapons, injuries, angst

Word Count: 5.5K

Masterlist

A/N I haven't watched the show because I don't have Disney+ so I'm working from (memory of) the books. No characters are specifically book or show so descriptions are left vague. Imagine whatever you want.

I stumbled my way up Half-Blood Hill, determined to get to Thalia’s tree. This was my last year being a summer camper. After I graduated high school I’d decided to become a year round camper seeing as the real world was getting more and more dangerous for me. And I'd be damned if I let myself be killed right before I was in the safety of camp for good.

I was in so much pain, there was blood pouring out of my abdomen caused by the crocotta’s razor sharp claws slicing at me. My short break gave it enough time to catch up to me so rather than continuing to flee, I was forced to turn and face it. I pulled out my father’s gift to me, a sword made of celestial bronze that grew from a steel knife that could harm mortals. When he claimed and gifted it to me I found the steel useless. Why would I ever need to harm a mortal? The reasoning behind the dual blade still eluded me. The only reason I could think of was just that Ares had a penchant for violence.

As the crocotta bounded closer to me, all I could do was stand and wait for it to get within range. But upon reaching me, it just swiped the sword from my grasp, pouncing on me. I felt a tear slip down my face as I realized I’d failed to reach safety one final time. As it growled in my face and opened its jaw, I sent a silent prayer to my father and a goodbye to Luke. But before it’s jaws could clamp down on me, the weight lifted and a shimmery cloud of ichor rained down on me.

As the golden dust settled, I could see my boyfriend’s face above mine, standing over me, clutching his dagger. “Luke,” I practically sobbed in relief.

“Oh my gods,” he exclaimed, kneeling down next to me. His hands went to my stomach, pressing against the open wound, trying to stop the bleeding. “Can you walk?” he asked, fear in his eyes.

“Yeah,” I nodded, letting him take my hand as he stood. Truthfully I probably couldn’t really walk but it was either walk 10 feet to the tree or lie here waiting for someone else to help Luke carry me in and potentially getting attacked by another monster.

I let out a groan as Luke slung my arm over his shoulder, pulling me up from the ground. “C’mon,” he urged, “just get to the tree and then we’ll get some more people to help you.” I nodded, not bothering with a verbal agreement as I let my boyfriend practically carry me just past Thalia’s tree. “There we go,” he said gently as he eased me to the ground.

“Go. Go get Lee or Michael,” I urged him as he kneeled by my side again.

“No,” Luke immediately shot down. “I’m not leaving you like this and so close to the edge of the barrier.” I glanced to my left. We were about three feet from the edge of the camp’s protective barrier. “Help!” I heard him yell towards camp.

“What? Do you think I'm accidentally gonna roll down the hill?” I tried to joke. But my chuckle made my wounds hurt even more.

Seeing my pain made Luke even more unamused. Soon enough a few other campers ran up to us, having heard Luke’s call.

“Y/N, oh my god.”

“What happened?”

“Another one?!”

I heard the various reactions from other campers. Another one? What did they mean another one? But I didn’t dwell on my questions for long because Lee Fletcher and Michael Yew were running towards me. A few of my siblings followed them carrying a stretcher. As the Apollo boys started to try to stop the bleeding, I was moved onto the stretcher. But the pain of being lifted was so bad I blacked out.

~

When I came to in the sickroom of the Big House all I could feel was pain. I let out a soft groan, snapping Luke to attention. He was slumped over on my bedside, seemingly sleeping. He immediately grabbed a piece of ambrosia off the nightstand next to the cot, bringing it to my lips. I immediately rejected it, not feeling like eating anything.

“C’mon, it’s ambrosia. It’ll make you feel better,” Luke pleaded. Reluctantly I let him coax the food into my mouth and ate it. The comforting taste of my mother’s chocolate cake filled my mouth. Despite the fact that it tasted good, it felt heavy in my stomach and I pushed the food away. “You gotta eat more than that,” he tried again.

“Let’s start with water or nectar,” I suggested, my throat sore.

Luke looked at the floor angrily. He sighed. “We’re out of nectar for a while. Ambrosia is all we have.”

“What?” I asked in shock, sitting up in surprise. Luke was quick to coax me back down.

“Grover and the kid he was helping got attacked by the Minotaur on their way here. Just like the crocotta attacked you.”

“Oh my god,” I murmured. “Is that why someone said ‘Another one?’ as they were bringing me here?”

He nodded once again. “His name was Percy. He showed up the night before you did.” He suddenly stopped talking. Like he had something more to say. I urged him to continue and he did so reluctantly. “Poseidon claimed him the second night he was awake… and now he’s on a quest.”

I looked at him sympathetically. I knew all about Luke’s anger about going unclaimed for so long. And then when he finally was claimed and had trained to be a great hero, all Hermes could give him to do was steal some golden apples. But after countless rants about this I knew he wouldn’t want sympathy. “You said he’s on a quest already? How long have I been out?”

“A couple days. Chiron and Lee kicked me out for a while.”

“What’d you do?”

“Well, we already need new practice dummies for combat training,” he admitted sheepishly. I laughed and fortunately Luke did too.

By now, Chiron had sensed I was awake and entering the sickroom. As he ducked his way through the door he shrunk down back into his wheelchair so as to not overwhelm me. “I’m glad to see you’re awake. You gave us quite a scare for a few days,” he smiled.

“So I've heard.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Like my guts were ripped out by a crocotta,” I answered.

“Well the ambrosia should help the pain and scarring. Lee stopped the bleeding and stitched you up but he said you’d be out for a few days.”

“Can you get her some nectar?” Luke interrupted. “She’s not exactly in a place to be eating solid foods.”

“Mr. D is trying to get into contact with Apollo. Apparently he’s concerned that Dionysus is overindulging.”

“That’s crap!” Luke suddenly burst out.

“Luke!” Chiron immediately cut him off. “I know you’re concerned for Ms. L/N, here but the food of the gods is in of itself a privilege.” He then turned his attention back to me. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well but ambrosia will have to do until we’re able to get more nectar.”

“Thanks, Chiron,” I tried to dismiss him, giving him a tight lipped smile. Sensing my disappointment he took his leave, wheeling out of the room.

Luke was back by my bedside with more pieces of ambrosia that I reluctantly took.

~

Thanks to the godly food I was up and walking within two days much to cabin 5’s relief. So many of my younger siblings were saying that Clarisse had been a terror in my absence. Something about a bathroom exploding and then she apparently tried to electrocute the new camper. I made a note to talk to her later but for now I was focused on getting my cabin back in order. They responded best to authority and a routine so I quickly had them out in training, telling them that I wouldn’t tolerate us losing capture the flag again.

We made our way down to the arena for sword fighting lessons. Luke and I were both instructors seeing as we were the oldest two campers and the best with blades. Our childhood competitiveness had eventually grown into love but for a while, we hated each other. We used to spend hours trying to get the upper hand over one another.

But now that we were dating, the younger campers always tried to goad us into sparring with one another. We always said that we’d save our sparring match for our own training or a reward for the others doing well but usually a few teasing comments had our swords pointed at one another.

I was correcting a Hermes camper’s form when he asked me to try fighting Luke. “Not today,” I laughed.

“Why? Is it because you’re scared?” he asked, knowing exactly what he was doing.

“No,” I corrected him. “It’s because once we fight, none of you will care about what we teach you.”

“Sound like you’re scared,” the boy just repeated.

I just rolled my eyes, prepared to dismiss him when Luke’s voice interrupted. “Yeah, Y/N. It sounds like you’re scared.” I rolled my eyes again as he approached. “I wouldn’t want to fight the capture the flag champion either.”

“You only won because I was recovering from being chased across the country by a monster. Just wait until the next game, I’ll show you how Cabin 5 does it.” That elicited a few cries of encouragement from my cabin, eager to win their flag back.

“You need a bit more time to train, I get it,” he mockingly offered. A few of his siblings joined in on the taunting with their exaggerated reactions.

“I don’t need time. I’d just rather not cut you up this early into the summer,” I smiled. A few ‘ooh’s came from our audience.

Luke bristled a little at that. “C’mon,” he gestured to the arena, “let’s settle this once and for all.”

I picked up one of the practice swords that resembled the size and weight of my real sword, stepping into the middle of the arena. “You say that every time.” Luke smiled, taking his spot in front of me with his practice sword as the other campers backed up.

I barely gave him a chance to settle before I was moving. I had the advantage of my father’s knack for fighting and aggression but I wasn’t as strong as Luke. Unfortunately, he knew all my moves and tricks so he was able to block me. But that also meant I knew all of his moves and tricks because I could anticipate his subsequent moves.

We continued on, trying to outmaneuver each other. He kept forcing me out of range, protecting his body, whilst I tried to find an opening to get close to him. The other campers had been within the walls of the arena but we moved around so much they were forced to jump out.

The only reason we stopped was because our little “lesson” had gone on too long and Chiron was wondering where his students were. Neither of us noticed him until he yelled our names. “Y/N L/N! Luke Castellan! What are you doing?” We both immediately stopped, facing the centaur like guilty children.

“We were just introducing them to technique,” Luke offered. I could tell Chiron saw right through his excuse but it was good enough reasoning.

“You both know you’re supposed to hold off on sparring one another. Children,” he turned to the other campers, “what did your instructors teach you?”

“Stance!”

“What to do if your opponent has a longer sword!”

Those were the answers our siblings offered but one Aphrodite camper’s answer ruined the whole thing. “How to waste time.” Luke and I both sent her stares.

Fortunately Chiron didn’t take it too seriously. “Save the sparring for your own sessions,” he warned us. “Everyone move on to your next activities. I’m sure your instructors are waiting.”

As everyone else filed off, Luke and I looked at each other. “You’re disgusting,” I laughed, observing his sweaty shirt.

He looked baffled at that. “Wow. I was gonna ask if you’re okay but clearly you don’t value me that much,” he answered in mocking offense.

“No, no, no,” I corrected through laughs, going to him. But as soon as he tried to hug me, I pulled away with a wrinkled nose. Seeing my disgust, he forcefully hugged me, drowning me in his B.O. When I finally wrestled my way out of his arms I was disgusting. “Ugh we both need showers.”

He smiled. “I’ll see you at dinner,” he promised. He stepped closer to me, kissing me quickly before heading off towards the showers. I watched him leave for a moment before heading to my cabin.

Later that night at dinner, I was talking to my cabin-mates when Luke came over, crouching by me. “Hey,” he smiled up at me as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

“Hi,” I laughed. “What are you doing here?”

“Being a good boyfriend. I’m just giving you a heads up that our spar from earlier isn’t over yet.”

“What?”

Chiron stood up and so did Luke. “Gotta go, bye,” he said, pressing a kiss to my temple before scurrying off.

Bewildered, I looked up at Chiron. “We have a special activity tonight per the request of the reigning capture the flag champions. We’ll be playing again tonight seeing as some claimed our last games were unfair due to a missing counselor.” Cabin 5 erupted into cheers, eager to win the flag back. “Luke Castellan and Y/N L/N are captains. Same rules as the prior games.”

Not willing to let my cabin lose again, I jumped into action. “Cabin 5, armor on, get to the creek in 5!” They all quickly scrambled off. Our allies for this game, Dionysus, Aphrodite, Demeter, and Hephaestus followed their lead.

I followed after them to get my armor as well and soon enough I was stood by the creek, discussing strategy with my teammates. Once our discussion time drew to a close, I faced my opposing captain. “You’re going down, feather feet,” I sneered.

“We’ll see, hot head,” Luke taunted.

I laughed. “Oh yeah, one more thing,” I told my teammates. “Bring me Luke’s sword and helmet.”

“In your dreams,” he taunted back. He looked at his team. “Bring me Y/N.”

“Okay,” Chiron interrupted us. “Before we begin I think we need a reminder that killing is not permitted. Are we clear?” A few unenthusiastic agreements came from the crowd. Nodding, Chiron blew into the horn, signaling that the games had begun. Some of my campers who hadn’t already been stationed bolted into the trees, doubling back so they could hopefully sneak through Hermes’ cabin’s defenses. The others stayed with me to defend the most obvious point.

One Hermes kid immediately jumped at me but I slashed him in the chest, (his armor protected him so he just got the wind knocked out of him) knocking him back into the water.

He got back up, running at one of my campers but he was immediately disarmed and taken prisoner. By the time I looked back, the other campers and Luke were gone. I realized with a frustrated scream that this kid was a distraction. “Find them!” I yelled at the others.

“Their territory or ours?” I observed the 5 campers in front of me. “You three, stay on our side. Fan across the creek, look for signs they crossed into our territory. The rest of you, we’re gonna either hunt them down in their territory or take their flag.”

My group leapt over the creek, running into the forest.

As we searched, we picked up a few of our own teammates, running through the woods and strangely finding no opposing campers. We continued on nonetheless until Athena and Apollo campers all of a sudden started darting through the trees.

Eventually they stopped moving enough for us to have a proper fight. I faced Malcom Pace, easily disarming him. But suddenly his older brothers were on me. As I was busy fighting twins, Leo and Cato, another one of the boys found an opening. Quinn wrapped his arms around me, a dagger at my throat. “Drop the sword,” they told me.

Seeing as I wasn’t getting out of this but my teammates were gone while many of the Athena and Apollo campers were still here, I dropped the sword. Most of my campers got away and were likely hunting down the flag.

Before they could decide where to stash their prisoner, the horn blew again, signaling the end of the games. But as I tried to leave, the others stopped me. “Woah, Luke said he wanted you so we’re taking you.”

I rolled my eyes, letting them lead me to the creek. “Yeah, well when my cabin gives me his stuff and the flag, you can apologize to me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Quinn dismissed. “You’re just mad I beat you.”

“You only ‘beat me’ because there were three of you. And you guys still lost the rest of my team.”

“We still got you!” Leo taunted in a sing-songy voice. By now we had reached the creek and I saw Clarisse holding the flag, a helmet, and a sword. Luke was kneeled beside her looking humiliated, clearly a captive.

Both sides let us go and I went to Clarisse. “Your spoils,” she presented me the flag, helmet, and sword. I smiled, wrapping the flag around her shoulders and taking Luke’s stuff.

“Thank you!” I said emphatically, pointing a look of victory at Luke.

He just shook his head, standing up. As he approached me I figured he was grabbing his belongings but instead he wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me in for a kiss. When he pulled away he explained. “You’re my spoil.”

~

Camp life continued on as normal for a while. I finally met the newest hero who had returned Zeus’ masterbolt— he did not like my father. He seemed surprised that Luke and I were dating and I learned that Luke had become a sort of mentor to Percy over the days that I had been asleep. That also surprised me, given how resentful Luke had seemed towards him when I first woke up. Regardless, everything seemed normal as we continued our routines throughout the summer until I was woken up one night.

“Y/N,” a voice whispered, shaking me. “Y/N.” I reluctantly opened my eyes, finding one of my younger brothers, Aiden, shaking me. “Luke’s asking for you.”

“What?” I asked, sitting up.

“Luke wants to talk to you. He gave me a coke if I woke you up.” The boy excitedly held up a shiny red can as if to persuade me to go.

I rubbed his messy hair as I sat up. “Don’t let Clarisse see that,” I advised, throwing on a hoodie. He nodded, going back to his bunk as I headed outside. “Luke!” I whispered into the night upon exiting the cabin. I didn’t notice him sneaking up towards me until his hands were around my waist. “Luke!” I exclaimed in surprise.

He quickly hushed me. “Do you want the harpies to find us?”

“Well we wouldn’t have to worry about that if you weren’t trying to talk to me in the middle of the night. What’s wrong?” I asked, knowing it’d be serious. He let his playful facade drop as he urged me to follow him, taking my hand. I went with him, silently trusting him until I realized we were heading to the woods. I stopped, letting my hand fall out of his grasp. “What? Are you gonna kill me in there?” I laughed shallowly, trying to lighten the mood and quell the alarms in my brain.

Luke returned my shallow laugh, clearly nervous. “Of course not. Look, I have to talk to you. It’s serious.” I could see the genuineness in his expression so I let him retake my hand. “I’d never hurt you,” he promised. So I followed him further into the woods until he deemed us far enough. “The nymphs may hear us but it’s kind of impossible to avoid them,” he chuckled.

“Hear what?” I asked.

He took a breath, seemingly composing himself. “You know how I went on that quest? For my dad?”

“Yeah. What? You want to go out into the world again?” I asked, a little relieved.

“Sort of,” he offered. “But on that ‘quest,’” he mocked the word, “I realized something: the gods are useless.”

“Luke!” I immediately reprimanded him.

“No,” he cut me off. “You don’t have to pretend like not fawning over the gods is a crime. We shouldn’t be blindly worshipping them. Y/N,” his hands were clasping my shoulders as if begging me to believe him, “your father waited for the last day of summer your first year to claim you. Why? Just to mess with you? Because he just couldn’t be bothered to do it until he remembered at the last second? That’s messed up. The gods aren’t fit to rule. The West is going to hades. My quest? To repeat Heracles’ quest? All the gods know how to do is repeat the past. Their glory days.”

“Luke, you’re scaring me.” I was practically begging him to stop talking so we could go back to the way it was. This was the first year I’d be staying year round. We were supposed to be celebrating Christmas together for the first time in a few months. Yet here he was, spouting off heresy.

“Open your eyes,” he insisted. “The gods are poisoning the world and they’ve been using us as pawns to do it. The only way to fix it is to destroy it and start over with something more honest.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been having dreams sent by the Titan Lord.”

A shiver ran down my spine and I stepped out of his grasp. “No,” I heard myself whisper. “Luke, he’s using you. You remember what Chiron taught us. We are not better off, no one was better off when the Titans ruled. We didn’t even have fire. He will kill all the humans. He’ll kill us.”

“Not if we join him willingly,” Luke promised, trying to take my hand again but I pulled away. “He said when I bring down the gods he’ll reward me. He’ll make me immortal. He promised you’d become like me too.” He quickly grasped my wrist tight enough so I couldn’t escape, pulling me closer. “We can rule together, forever.” He was pleading with me to take his offer, his hands finding a stray lock of hair to tuck behind my ear.

“Luke… this isn’t- you can’t…” I was at a loss for words.

“Please, Y/N,” his voice was cracking.

“I can’t. I’m sorry. This isn’t right. This is dangerous, can’t you see that?”

“This isn’t me just trying to get back at my dad. I’ve thought about this.” He stiffened, still tightly grasping my wrist. “Y/N, I need you with me.”

“Then don’t go,” I begged him. “I won’t even tell anyone. We can just go back to how things were.”

“No, we can’t,” he shook his head. “Because you’re gonna try to help me by telling Chiron and he’s gonna turn me in.”

“No he won’t! Luke, he trained you. He’ll want to help you.”

“Camp isn’t safe for us anymore. We have to go.”

This was the first time I actually started fearing for my safety. I tried to pull out of his grasp but he held firm. “Go where?”

“Our Titan Lord got us a ship. We’ll be safe there until I get my next orders. The monsters on it won’t harm us.”

“What?!” With a hard wrench I pulled my wrist out of his grasp. I immediately started running, hoping a nymph would find me before a monster did but Luke was on me in seconds. He knocked me to the ground and after a little struggling he had me pinned. “Luke, please don’t do this,” I begged as I saw him reach into his pocket. When I saw the milk of the poppy I began to thrash underneath him but I couldn’t manage to throw him off of me. He forced my mouth open, dropping the liquid onto my tongue and forcing me to swallow. Before I blacked out, I could vaguely hear him speak.

“You’ll be okay in a few days and then we can talk.” A few days???

~~

The next morning Luke was woken by frantic cries of his girlfriend’s name heard throughout camp. He immediately rushed out of bed, putting on a concerned boyfriend facade. Finding one of his brothers, he asked what was going on. “What? Did you just wake up?” Luke nodded frantically. “Oh, I’m sorry man. Uh, Y/N wasn’t in bed this morning. No one can find her. One of her little brothers said you asked to talk to her last night.”

“Yeah to talk about potentially allying for capture the flag but she went right back in,” he insisted frantically. He ran a hand through his hair, acting stressed. He kind of whished he’d be gone by now but he needed to get rid of Percy before he could go.

He ran out of the cabin, immediately going up to Cabin 5. Clarisse spotted him, her expression becoming sour. “What’d you do Castellan? Aiden said you wanted to talk to her last night.”

“Yeah, we were talking about capture the flag but she went right back in 10 minutes later. You sleep 20 feet from her, where’s my girlfriend?” he challenged. Clarisse sent him a scowl but otherwise stormed off, the other Cabin 5 campers following her with similar expressions.

“Luke, I'm so sorry,” a young voice called. He turned, finding Annabeth running towards him. As she hugged him, Luke couldn’t help but think about how much he’d miss her. She was too smart for her own good but he still couldn’t help but think of the seven year old he had found hiding from monsters. “She could just be out somewhere?” she offered, trying to console him.

“I hope so,” he smiled down at her. He then spotted Mr. D and ran over to him. “Mr. D, can you find where she is?”

The god gave him a tired expression. “I’m not omniscient in this state. All I know is she’s not in camp.”

“Well can’t you get a god who is? Surely her father wants to know where she is,” he insisted. But Ares had plenty of demigod children and most of them went missing in action or died tragic deaths. Y/N would be just another hero child that fought in his name.

“Lord Ares has other concerns,” Mr. D at least tried to soften the blow. “If she hasn’t returned by the end of the summer then we must assume she is dead. Even if she left of her own volition.”

“But summer is ends tomorrow. You can’t do this. She could still be out there. She could need our help. Let me go out and search,” he pleaded. By now, Chiron, Clarisse, and a few others had joined them.

“No one is leaving,” Chiron declared. “I’m not letting anyone else go missing. Luke, I understand your concern but her blade was found in Cabin 5. If she’s not in camp she is likely already dead.”

“No,” Luke insisted, putting on the performance of a lifetime, “you’re wrong.”

After nearly two whole days of searching camp and the closest borders, (that was the furthest Chiron would let anyone go) Y/N L/N was declared dead. Her siblings reluctantly built a funeral pyre, decorating it with some of her things. Luke did his best to look devastated and it seemed to be working because no one looked at him twice other than to offer their sympathies. That at least made it easy to lure Percy off into the woods just before he left.

~~

When I woke up I was in a strange room. It looked like a hotel room except for the fact that the floor to ceiling windows showed that I was on the ocean. That triggered all the memories of Luke. A sense of hopelessness came over me and I was immediately breaking down in sobs. I didn’t want to believe that he had joined Kronos and turned his back on everything he knew or that he was determined to drag me with him.

Once I finally managed to compose myself I went to the door, hoping to find a radio so someone could get me. Or maybe even find Luke so I could talk him into letting me go. But once I opened the door I was met with the massive jaws of a hellhound. I immediately shut the door and locked it.

Still feeling unsafe I went to grab the dresser to block the door but either it was too heavy or bolted down. I tried the desk next resulting in nothing. I was running out of time as the monster was probably just trying to process what it saw. Soon it’d smell me and start trying to break down the door. So I resorted to the chair, dragging it across the floor and jamming it under the door handle. I then went to the massive windows, realizing there was a hidden door. I wrenched it open, stepping out into the fresh air. I looked around, seeing no land I’d be able to swim to. But just as I was considering my chances, I noticed the body of a massive whale-like creature. I was willing to bet that whales weren’t just swimming around a cruise ship, this was a cetus.

Seeing as I had nowhere else to go, I went back into the room. I went to the attached bathroom, searching for something to defend myself. There wasn’t really anything in there except bar soap and toilet paper. Luke must have removed everything, even the towels, so I couldn’t hurt him or anyone else. Frustrated, I went to the closet, finding it completely empty. Not even a hangar to pull apart and stab someone with. So I reluctantly grabbed the soap seeing as it was literally the only thing remotely resembling a weapon, and sat on the bed, watching the door.

I don’t know how long I sat there but eventually I heard the door shake, like something was trying to get in. As I was preparing to clobber the monster with my bar of soap, a voice I recognized called through the door. “C’mon, Y/N! Open the door,” Luke said. I didn’t dare move. I didn’t want to see him. “Open the door or I break it down!” he demanded.

It was either open the door or have absolutely no protection from the monsters so I reluctantly got up. “Okay, okay!” I answered. “Just give me a second.” I climbed off the bed, removing the chair. I only twisted the handle, letting the door open slightly before going back to the bed to put some distance between us.

As Luke was locking the door again, I took my chance. Jumping, I tried to bring the bar of soap down on him but he turned, grabbing my wrist. “Come on, you had to have known that wouldn’t work,” he smiled.

I only gave him a burning stare. “It was worth a shot,” I said, trying to pull my hand away. But his grip held fast, not letting me pull away.

“So I guess you still hate me?”

“Yeah,” I answered. “You kidnapped me and are now holding me hostage on a monster infested ship.”

“You’ll understand soon enough,” he dismissed, once again brushing a piece of hair behind my ear. “Then we’ll be together forever.”

Masterlist

[star-suh]

Hardcore

Bang Chan x Male Reader

cw: idol au, dom top chan, pwp, facesitting, deepthroat, hair pulling, marking, spanking, slapping, choking, degradation, fisting, gaping hole, bit of dumbification, jackhammering, mating press, breeding, cum swallowing, hate sex, ripping clothes, cockwarming.

an: 😬 this man makes me go feral sometimes

—

yn was laying in the couch, his head hanging over one side of it. gurgling sounds could be heard in the living room, chan was there fucking the other's mouth “fuck at least that throat of yours can do wonders with my cock. you really know how to milk one hmm?” he slapped yn's cheeks and resumed his pace, forcing the other to deepthroat him. “maybe this is the only way to make you shut the fuck up for once”.

chan an yn were idols, each one from a different group, and they just began to hate each other for an unknown reason. every time they passed each other in the backstage of the music shows or year-end awards shows they looked at each other with anger plastered in their eyes, those glares were like hundreds of daggers stabbing at each other. until finally one day the tension exploded, their companies contacted them to do a collaboration (as a way to put an end to the rumors that the two hate each other's guts) and that's how we ended up here right now, chan banging the other's mouth, pulling his hair to thrust hard and deep.

with some final thrust chan came inside yn's throat clogging it with his thick cum, the other trying to swallow it but ended up spitting some of it “fucking asshole i almost choke–” not wanting to hear his annoying voice chan sat on top of yn, riding his face. chan gets up so that yn can breathe a little and sits on him again, repeating the action a few more times.

yn was stunned, there was so much happening that he doesn't realize when chan rips his shorts and underwear leaving his ass bare, “what the fuck you son of a bitch those were my favorite shorts”, “ask me how many fucks do i give” the other responded.

without warning chan impaled his thick fuckmeat on the tight hole, drawing a guttural moan out of him “you… asshole” tears rolled down his face while he punches chan in his chest “you're breaking me in.. hngh.. half.. you. bastard”..

chan positioned yn in a doggy style with the excuse of not wanting to see his face “this way i won't feel so disgusted” he mentioned. yn didn't pay attention to him since the only thing he focused on was how good chan's cock felt inside him. chan began to spank yn, enjoying the recoil caused by that and how it was slowly taking on a reddish color.

looking for a way to be able to thrust much rougher chan put his hands on the sides of yn's neck and began to choke him, also using it to push yn back so his cock goes deeper. yn's eyes were rolled back, spit coming out of his mouth, sex was clouding his mind and all he wanted now was to cum and get it over with quickly.

the room was now a mess, it reeked of sex and sweat, chan and yn have been fucking for hours. in the mating press position and he squeezed so hard that chan had no choice but to release his load inside the other. “why the fuck do you came inside.. it's disgusting coming from you” yn slapped chan but he didn't seem to like it, so he decided to do some payback, "fine, you son of a bitch, if that's what you want, then i'm going to get all my semen out of you. just don't complain later” suddenly, yn found himself in the jackhammering position. chan was being much rougher than he had been before, his cock never failing to hit that sweet spot. when he emptied his second load inside of yn chan said in a mocking voice “ow.. i'm so sorry yn i came inside you again”, “you did it on purpose you fu-aughng!!” yn cried feeling a sudden stretch, then he realizes chan was fisting him. his fist going in and out smeared with his semen "what do you think now yn? should i continue until there is not a single drop of cum inside?", yn could feel chan's fist making its way into his insides, how the knuckles scratched his prostate deliciously, he could feel every vein in chan's muscular arm "you're going to pay… for this.. augh.." he cried.

after finishing his fisting session, chan stopped to appreciate yn's destroyed hole, how agape it was and how it was clenching into nothing "it's cute how he tries to wink at me" chan joked, “i don't think you're going to be able to walk these days”.

chan folded yn and resume the fucking, but this time the thrusts were sloppier yn could feel that chan was already reaching his peak and that was when he took advantage and started scratching chan's back leaving long red and burning marks as part of his revenge, in addition to biting and twisting his nipples and punching his firm delicious pecs, "let's see how you'll cover those marks, imbecil” yn laughed with the last strength he had...

the next day yn woke up feeling sore down there and feeling a heavy weight on top of him, then chan wakes up too, realizing that they both fell asleep on top of each other with the top's cock still inside yn's ass "get off of me" yn pushes chan and when he tried to sit up he couldn't due to the pain he was feeling "hahaha deserved" chan laughs. suddenly he feels a slap on his back that hurt his wounds making him scream in pain "goddamn it… it hurts a lot”. “deserved" yn murmurs, struggling to stand up to go to the shower.

[leighsartworks216]

Hii I saw ur reblog about the kiss prompts!

I choose - "if you win, i'll kiss you"

With nervous kiss and height difference! 😳🙏

I actually had a hard time trying to fit these prompts together but I think I did pretty well!

Warnings: knife throwing, height difference

Word Count: 1,327

Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

“What’s that make it now? 12 to…?”

“You’re such an ass.”

“Come now, dear, you’re being too harsh - my memory isn’t what it used to be, you know. How many wins do you have?”

Your glare could have burned a hole right through him, all the while Astarion looked every bit the smarmy bastard he was. He just loved teasing you. It satisfied him to no end to peer down at you as you fumed. Steam could come pouring out your ears and he’d still have that smug smirk on his stupid face.

You huffed through your nose, fighting the growing urge to throw the dagger right at his head - you’d miss anyway. This whole game started when you’d tried throwing a knife at a goblin as a last ditch effort. You missed horribly, and Astarion just couldn’t let it go. “Zero.”

He gasped dramatically and laid a hand on his chest. “Not a single one?! Well, this won’t do!” He leaned in, teeth showing as he grinned wickedly. “How about we make a little bet? Make things a bit more interesting.”

You scoffed. “So you can sweeten the deal in your favor and wipe the floor with me, again?”

“Hmm, I tell you what: in the interest of keeping things interesting, I’ll give you two throws. If you hit, you win.”

“Let me guess - you get three.”

He rolled his eyes. “Please, darling, I have some tact. I’ll get one throw. If I can hit the dummy square in the head, I win.” He accentuated the point by flipping his dagger in the air, easily catching it by the hilt by pure muscle memory alone.

You frowned, studying his face for any sign of deceit. You were getting really close to hitting… Gods, this is a terrible idea. You sigh. “Fine. What do you propose?”

A spark of mischief flickered in his eye, so quick it could have just been a trick of the light, but you knew him better than that. “If I win, you’re responsible for sewing up everyone’s clothes for a week.”

“And if I win?”

He smirked and lowered his face to be right next to yours, cold breaths tickling your ear as he whispered. “If you win, I’ll kiss you.”

Your heart raced as your face flushed. You could tell he noticed, too, when he pulled away with that self-satisfied look on his face. You cleared your throat, urging it not to shake as you grumbled, “It sounds like you’re making more out of this either way.”

“Yes, but one is certainly more desirable for you, no? Besides, what are the odds of you winning? You should have nothing to fear.”

You frowned, but he had a point. Resigned to your fate, your shoulders slump. “Fine. It’s a deal.”

“Excellent.”

You both lined up about 10 feet away from the straw dummy. It had numerous marks in its head and body, all landed by the vampire spawn beside you. But you felt good about this time. You felt you could actually hit it.

You didn’t hate the idea of kissing him, especially if it meant saving your hand the cramping of patching up your companions’ clothes, but, well… You’d never been kissed before. There was no reason why, you’d just never been close enough with someone to warrant it.

Your heart raced thinking about it. Your face was as warm as Karlach by now. But you swallowed down the feelings and focused. If you just aimed very carefully, you might be able to get it.

“You first, love.”

Gods, now was not the time for endearing pet names.

“Hush, fangs.”

He chuckled softly, but stayed quiet otherwise. You held the handle of the dagger, just as he showed you, and aimed. You took a breath, lifted it up, and with a quick swing it was flying through the air… Right over the dummy’s shoulder. You growled in frustration.

Cool hands smoothed over your shoulders, urging them to relax. “Take it easy, dear. Keep your wrist locked and keep your elbow tucked in when you lift the dagger to throw.” He slid his hand down your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake as he showed you how to keep your wrist straight and your elbow close to your ear. Then, he backed away and watched.

Shaking off the phantom feeling of him standing so close, you readied yourself again. You aimed, pulled your arm back so your elbow stayed tucked in, and steadied your wrist. With a deep breath, you threw the knife.

Time seemed to slow down as it flipped through the air. All sound faded away. You weren’t sure you were breathing. All you could focus on, all that mattered, was this stupid dagger.

In barely a second, the knife found its mark in the straw ribcage of the dummy.

A tidal wave of excitement and joy shot through your system. You cheered and pumped your fists in the air and gave a victorious yell that put Karlach’s to shame. And then, in the next instant, another knife flew by and lodged itself right next to yours. Your breath caught in your throat. Your eyes were wide when you turned to Astarion.

He smiled, part genuine and part impish. “Congratulations, darling. It seems you’ve won.” His smile only grew more flushed you became. He crowded into your space, peering down at you like a fox staring down a rabbit. “Don’t tell me you’re going to back out of our deal now.”

You swallowed. “I…” You glanced around camp, but no one seemed to be paying attention. They were all too busy preparing for the next day. You met his eye again and lowered your voice to a whisper, meant for his ears only. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

His eyes widened, brows raising minutely. He never thought the brave, compassionate leader before him would be so… inexperienced, to put it kindly. You’d always seemed to carry this sort of confidence, he just assumed…

“We don’t have to,” he back-peddled. He’d never have suggested it if he’d known. Well… Okay he would, but that look on your face - puppy-dog eyed and uncertain. It twisted his insides. He started to step away, out of your space, but you caught his arm.

“No, I…” You took a breath to steady your shaky nerves. “I want this.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded, but he could still feel the anxious way you fiddled with the fabric of his shirt. It was cute. And terrifying. You wanted him to be your first. It was only fair - you were his first after all.

Moving slowly to give you a chance to back out, he raised his hands to cup your jaw, fingers brushing over your pulse and tilting your head up. You were shorter than him, enough that he had to hunch a bit to meet your eyes like this. You held onto his arms, too unsure to hold him anywhere else. He leaned down, noses almost touching. He could see your eyes flickering from his eyes to his mouth; feel your heart beneath his fingers as it skipped with his proximity. In a final act of courage, you stood on your toes and met him halfway.

It was clumsy at first. You had no idea what you were doing, all you knew was his lips were soft and he tasted like wine. He gently tilted your head, smoothing out the initial uncoordinated start. His lips meshed with yours as he showed you exactly what to do. When you experimentally nipped at his lip, he almost groaned. It wasn’t perfect, but he was sick and tired of perfect. It was wonderful. He was almost reluctant to pull away. But you still needed to breathe, living thing that you were.

He chuckled as he pressed his forehead to yours, watching with rapture as you caught your breath, lips swollen so beautifully. “You are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @lynnlovesloki @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @mheerdraws @kindadolly @httyd-chocolate @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red

[bludhavents]

Easy to Love

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: Your lazy afternoon with Steve is apparently everyone else's favorite time to come over unannounced.

word count: 4.8k

warnings: 18+ please!! smut, fluff, getting interrupted, soft!steve, established relationship, loosely proofread lol sorry!!!

You were laying in bed with Steve, the afternoon sun shining through the window while the both of you stayed under the covers.

He pressed lazy kisses to your mouth, sighing into you as your hands reached to comb through his hair. You smiled into the kiss, trying to work your way impossibly closer to him. He helped, snaking his hand around your torso and pulling you flush against his stomach. His lips left yours and moved to press the same sloppy kisses to your jaw. Your free hand worked its way to his back, eliciting a purr from him when you lightly raked your fingers across his shoulders, but the moment was interrupted all too soon when the sound of his doorbell echoed through the house.

He paused his work, but only for a moment before continuing down onto your neck. You melted at his touch, reveling in the love that he showed you with such ease. Three more kisses, one, two, three and there was a pounding on the door that made you jump. Steve didn't stop this time, though. He pulled you back to him and pressed a hot kiss to your mouth, swallowing your surprised gasp as he made you forget all about the unwanted visitor.

"Steve Harrington! Open the door right this instant!" A voice called from the front yard, and soon enough pebbles were being thrown at his window. You huffed, rolling away from Steve so that he would finally go answer the door.

"You get it." Steve groaned, burying his face into his pillow. "Fucking Henderson always ruins everything."

"Steve, this is your house, I'm not answering the door." You put your hand on the side of his face, turning it so that he was looking at you. A smile rose to his lips despite himself. He tried to wash it away, but it was useless.

"You're so pretty."

"Thank you, baby," you said, suddenly feeling shy. "Now go tell your son to leave us alone. The sooner he goes away, the sooner you get to come back to me, Steve. Remember that."

"Just come with me," he whined, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of bed with him. The both of you walked down to the front door, Steve opening it to reveal a screaming Dustin on the front lawn. He was about to throw a full-sized rock at the window. "Dude!" Steve warned him.

Dustin whipped around to face the door, feeling enraged at the sight of Steve's hand splayed across your stomach, pulling you into him as he waited for Dustin to explain what was going on. He marched up to the door and let himself in, shoving past the both of you.

"Hey, man," Steve tried to deescalate the situation. "Why are you here?"

"I'm here to talk to my friend." His glare shot daggers into your eyes. Dustin wasn't talking any louder than normal, but you could tell something was wrong. You gave him a sorry smile before quietly making your way back up to Steve's room. It didn't hurt your feelings that he said that. Not at all. Usually when Dustin came over, it was to ask Steve for a ride or to accompany him on a quest to kill the latest interdimensional problem in Hawkins. Never was it limited to Steve only. If there was even a thought in your mind that he was here for such a serious reason, you never would've gone to the door in the first place. You shook the guilt from your head--there was no way either of you could've known. Your hands found the remote and you turned on the TV, cranking the volume a little louder than normal to ensure Dustin felt comfortable speaking with Steve in confidentiality.

"What's going on?" Steve took a seat on his couch, knowing Dustin would choose to pace the length of the living room.

"I like this girl. But I think she likes Lucas."

"Seriously, Henderson?" Steve couldn't help the inflection in his voice. "You were all mean to Y/n just to tell me about some girl?"

"It's not just some girl!" Dustin shouted back, insisting on the urgency of his conversation. You heard Steve yell, then Dustin. It was hard to make out the words themselves, but you were confident that you heard your own name in there somewhere.

A few minutes passed before their footsteps came booming up the stairs and Dustin and Steve crashed into the room. You looked at them with raised eyebrows and laughed as they both flopped onto the bed next to you, cursing at each other as Dustin's knee smacked Steve somewhere in the mix.

"Okay, so," Dustin started once he was settled next to you, laying flat on his back and staring at the ceiling. Steve was in between your legs, head resting on your stomach and arms wrapped around your waist. You absentmindedly played with his hair while Dustin talked. "I like this girl, her name is Max. And at first she was all like get away from me, you guys are stalkers, but now she's our friend, which is great--and she's great, but I'm pretty sure she's like in love with Lucas. And not me."

"Does Lucas like her?" You asked, tiptoeing around the subject carefully, trying to find your footing before giving him any sort of advice.

"Yeah, we both do."

"Why?" Both boys turned their heads to look at you. The expression on Steve's face was copied and pasted onto Dustin's and in that moment you could've sworn that they were legitimately father and son. It kinda freaked you out.

"What the fuck do you mean, why?" Dustin asked.

"Well Max has captured the hearts of two of Hawkins Middle School's finest bachelors," you said. "There's got to be a reason why. I've never heard you talk about a girl before, what makes Max different from the rest?"

The room was quiet for a long moment as Dustin thought. You opened your mouth to try and explain that you weren't trying to talk him out of this crush, or make Max seem less special. You genuinely were trying to figure out what made her so special and how he could use that to his advantage. Steve interrupted before you could continue, though.

"Like, I know with Y/n, me and the rest of the school loved her because she was gorgeous," Steve stressed. "You knew that, but like. Once we saw her, everybody tried to get to know her, and once they started, they couldn't stop. I found out from just one semester of sitting next to her in geometry that she was smart- she failed every damn geometry test, but that was just ‘cause she was writing these beautiful, sophisticated English papers. A-and she was so funny- I used to skip every class other than that one on my bad days, cause I knew she'd cheer me up. Of course, she was even prettier up close- her lips, her eyes, her cheeks and her nose just all go together so cohesively, like she was made to be preserved in marble and god I am just so lucky to get to spend time with her. She's also so, so very kind- when the girl in front of us called Eddie Munson a freak, she went over to comfort him and was just being so sweet, and now that I think about it holy shit she was totally flirting with him right in front of me!"

Dustin erupted into a fit of giggles, tears falling from his eyes as he squealed. Your face turned red, and you were so ready to defend yourself, but came up with nothing. Not only were you flirting with Eddie at that moment, you were dating him. You'd been dating him through the entirety of your high school career, which is why you never thought of Steve until after the break up.

"You're not even going to defend yourself?" Steve exclaimed, lifting his head up from your stomach and bringing himself to eye-level. Of course he knew that you were dating Eddie. He didn't at the moment, but he found out eventually. This right now was all to make Dustin feel better.

"Steve!" You shrieked as he threw himself on top of you, squishing you into the pillows as you laughed hard. "Dustin! Help!" Your giggling protests went unheard by Dustin, who instead decided to get on top of Steve, weighing you down even more. He was laughing like a maniac. You could feel his body shaking and it sent you into even more laughter. "I thought we were friends," you accused Dustin.

"I'm team Steve!"

"Me too!" You defended, Steve's breath tickling your neck. He pressed three chaste kisses to the skin before standing up, grabbing onto Dustin and throwing him back on the bed.

"Be right back," he breathed out as he left the room, leaving Dustin and you still giggling on his bed.

"Max is cool," Dustin answered after he finally calmed down. "She's way better than us at video games and she skates. She seems like the kind of girl who likes bugs. She liked Dart."

"The kind of girl who likes bugs," you repeated, leaning against the headboard. "That's special, Dustin."

"I know! But, she likes him. And not me. And I want her to like me."

"I know," you replied sadly. "How 'bout this. Let's give it a week, okay? You compliment the shoes she's wearing, or ask about her skateboard. Then, ask her to go to the arcade one day. If she says yes, then I think she's probably interested. If she says no, then she's probably not interested. And just because she's not interested doesn't mean you're not interesting, Dustin. I'm perfect, but you're not in love with me!" He chuckled. "I'm just saying--people all have different preferences. She may not want to go on a date, but maybe she'll want to be friends. And if you don't want to be friends, that's totally okay too."

"It sucks that she likes Lucas, though. Now I have to see them together in the hallways and stuff and it just doesn't feel good. I don't know why she picked him." His voice broke your heart. You saw Steve at the door, watching with gentle eyes as Dustin opened up to you. He stayed at the door, not stepping over the threshold.

"Dustin," you cooed, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It is hard. I know it is, and I'm sorry. But it has nothing to do with who you are. You are smart and funny and brave, and Lucas is all of those things, too! Maybe Max is going to be Lucas' girl. And in the future, you'll have someone, too. I promise, I know lots of bug-loving ladies on the market right now."

"Use this for good luck." Steve entered the room and put his old Scoops Ahoy sailor's hat on Dustin, who squirmed out of his reach. "Dude, the power of this thing is no joke. It's why Y/n let me be her boyfriend."

"That is so not true." You insisted, but allowed Steve to engulf you in his arms as he took a seat next to you. His chin rested on top of your hair as you positioned yourself between his legs, leaning your back against his chest.

"Why are you dating Steve?" Dustin questioned abruptly. The question had you stifling a laugh, and you felt Steve's own smile in your hair.

"Because he let me." Who wouldn't want to date Steve?

"Bullshit! You're way out of his league!" Dustin shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at you.

"No, no, no," you said seriously. "This guy is the most handsome man I've ever seen. And he's so funny, which you already knew of course. And kind. One time, my feet were hurting when we were on one of our very first dates, and Steve gave me the shoes off of his feet. He literally sat down on the curb, took his shoes off, took my heels off, put his shoes on my feet, and then carried my heels while he walked in socks the rest of the night. Also, I don't know how much it'll make sense to you, but Steve is the easiest person in the world to love. He puts in so much work, so much time and energy into making sure that I'm happy. And he lets me love him, he lets me make him late to work because I just wanna keep hanging out with him. He lets me hug him for as long as I need to, anytime. And he just loves so naturally. Like he was Romeo in another life or something. I was just made for loving Steve Harrington. He is a very good man and you are very lucky to have such a happy couple as your parents, young man."

You had to add the joke at the end, because you could feel your throat getting tighter. Could feel Steve's smile fall in your hair. Sure, you both loved each other, and you told each other every single day. But you never told him that much. Never told him he was easy to love or that you were made for loving him. Dustin giggled, leaping off of the bed.

"Anyone have the time? I gotta be home for lunch at 2. With my real mother," he joked, earning a chuckle from you. You wondered if he noticed that Steve hadn't shown his face since your speech. You'd certainly noticed, and selfishly wished he would leave so you could check in with your man.

"1:50." You answered, watching Dustin scramble out of the door and pound down the stairs, slamming the front door on his way out. As soon as you heard the door shut, you turned to face Steve, grabbing his neck gently and trying to get him to show his face. It took a moment of holding him before he finally did, pulling away to reveal the small tears rolling down his face. 

"Steve." You lurched forward, pulling him into a tight hug. You leaned all the way onto your back, tugging him with you so that he laid pressed against your chest, head in your shoulder. His arms were wrapped so tightly around you that you grew concerned, not for yourself but for him. You pressed a soft, sweet kiss to the side of his face; The only part of his face that wasn't buried into your shirt.

"I really liked hearing you say all those things," he admitted, lifting his face out of hiding and immediately pulling you in for a kiss. It was passionate and quickly became rough, Steve propping himself on his elbows above you as your hands reached under the fabric of his shirt. His muscles clenched at your touch, bringing a cheeky smile to your lips. You pulled away from the kiss, pushing Steve off of you and onto his back. Quickly, you straddled his waist, leaning down to press another long kiss to his lips before going to the crick of his jaw, down the column of his throat, and to his collarbones. You grabbed the hem of his shirt, feeling his hips rock into you as your fingertips grazed the skin just below his waistband.  His tears were dry, long forgotten as you pulled his shirt up and over his head, unable to resist when he grabbed you by the neck to bring your lips back to his.

You wrapped your hands around his wrists, guiding them to your shirt. He clued in quickly, barely parting from your lips as he quickly ripped it off of you, throwing it somewhere unimportant on his bedroom floor. His hands soon found your hair, long fingers dragging through it and making you sigh dreamily, certain you were in Heaven.

"So, so pretty." Steve praised between kisses, making you subconsciously press yourself into his lap harder. He moaned loudly, a sound that you greedily stole with a kiss, repeating your action again and making him break the kiss for air. "You do it so good. Were made for loving me. Me only, yeah?"

"You're the man of my dreams, Steve Harrington," you spoke, lips brushing against his with every word. "It's only you for me."

"Shit, I love you so fucking much," he groaned, grabbing your hips tightly and pushing his lips to your chest.

"I love you too," you huffed. "God, I need you so bad." You couldn't help but laugh pathetically at your words, embarrassed by how hot he was getting you just by kissing. 

You'd been dating for three years and he still had this effect on you. Still made you all nervous and giddy. You felt his charming smile bloom as he continued to nip lovingly at the skin of your breasts. His hands wound behind you to undo the clasp of your bra, and just as he unbuckled it, you heard the front door open. You jumped off of him, falling on the floor with a hiss, one that Steve expertly covered by unmuting the TV. Your shirt was right next to you, and you threw it on before hopping back in bed, snuggling up to Steve's side and closing your eyes like you were asleep.

Of course the two of you were grown adults, you were allowed to stay over at your boyfriends house. But his parents insisted that all activities within their house kept a PG rating.

"We can walk in at any time. Don't do anything you wouldn't want us to see you doing." His mother's nasally voice told the both of you the first night that you stayed over all those years ago. And you respected her rules--it was her house, and she was gracious enough to let you stay the night on occasion. However, she was rarely ever home. It was always just Steve, and he always invited you over.

The handle on his door turned the wrong way first before complying and opening, revealing Mr. Harrington in the doorway. His eyes went straight to the two of you, Steve's hands behind his head and your head on his bare chest, pretending to be asleep. Your hands were tucked under the pillow.

"Dad? What're you doing back here? I thought you came back on Wednesday," Steve pretended to be caught off guard. You stirred in your 'sleep', shifting your head so that the left side of your face was against his chest now. He pretended to look at you with concern, leaning back to give your face a quick once-over before turning back to his father.

"Just stopping by to check-in. Your mother said you weren't answering her calls."

"Yeah, this morning I saw that the house had missed calls, but they were all from like 3am, I wasn't awake to answer them," Steve answered truthfully. "She never left a number to call back. Figured she'd call back during the day and I could answer."

"Well," his father sighed out. "Has Y/n been here all week? We oughta start charging her rent." He laughed heartily. You lifted your head slowly, blinking up at Steve who wasn't laughing along.

"Hmm?" You hummed in question. He smiled, genuinely taken aback by how beautiful you were.

"Nothin, dad's home, just checking in on everything."

"Oh, sorry," you apologized, sitting up completely and rubbing your eyes, fiending tiredness. "Good morning, Mr. Harrington. Nice to see you."

"It's 2:30 in the afternoon," Steve whispered in your ear. It sent shivers down your spine. His hand toyed with the waistband of your shorts under the covers. You knew he was doing it absentmindedly, but it drove you crazy.

"Jesus, I'm so sorry." You rubbed your hands across your face. "How was Cabo, Mr. Harrington? My father said to ask you all about it, he and his fiancé were thinking of honeymooning there. I told him I was sure you were probably there in some hotel meeting, what with all of your employees relying on you and everything, but he insisted I ask."

Lies, all lies.

"Well, you were right," he answered shortly. "No time for breaks when I've got the weight of the company on my shoulders, now is there? Tell your father to get a travel magazine if he's so inclined. I'd be willing to pay for the subscription if that's what is holding him back."

Steve coughed next to you, covering an annoyed sigh. His father always found a way to belittle you and your family to your face. You kept your smile though, instinctively leaning into Steve as you replied.

"I'll extend the offer, thank you Mr. Harrington," you spoke through the smile, gritted teeth squeaking against each other. "I apologize again for being asleep when you arrived. I didn't mean to come across rudely, I really do appreciate you letting me come over to spend time with Steve." Your hand moved to the inside of his thigh, comforter hiding the movement as you traced patterns down his skin while maintaining conversation with his father.

"Nonsense." He waved off, faking nonchalance. "It's always a pleasure to have you, Y/n. Steve's a better man for it. I better get going, but it was nice to see you both. Steven, answer your mother's calls, I don't care what time of night it is, hear me?"

Steve nodded next to you, visibly tensing. You pet his thigh, trying to get him to relax underneath you. His father didn't smile before turning around and exiting the room, leaving the door open behind him. You rolled your eyes, grabbing the TV remote from him and turning up the TV before setting it down and taking his face in your hands.

"The universe does not want us to have sex today," you whined. He cracked a smile, leaning in to press a sweet, chaste kiss to your lips.

"Well the universe isn't the one with your hand on its thigh." Steve leaned in for another kiss, groaning shortly as your hand traveled further up his leg. "He's probably still here, we gotta wait."

"We gotta be quiet," you corrected before pulling the comforter up again to cover both of your waists. Your hand went up Steve's groin, palming his dick through the thin material of his PJ pants. He froze, unable to keep himself from whimpering. You moved your hand, lacing your fingers with his before guiding them down to your own shorts, using your free hand to slip them off and guiding Steve's hand over your underwear. Your breath stuttered as he gently lowered his hand to rest over your clothed entrance. Immediately, you pulled him into a kiss, gripping his hair for life with one hand while the other grabbed him over his underwear, each of you groaning into the kiss at the feeling.

His hips rutted up into your hand, already-hard cock begging for your attention.

"You do to me what I do to you" he instructed, breaking away from the kiss. His fingers ghosted over you and you did the same to him, trailing your fingers ever so lightly down his length. Despite his instruction, you kissed him once on the shoulder. He was too pretty sitting beside you, hair tousled and eyes hooded.

"You'resopretty," you gushed, words slurring together at the feeling of his hand pressing down into you. You squealed, grabbing his wrist and forgetting all about his little game as you threw yourself onto him, straddling his waist and bruising his lips with your eager kiss. "Fuck, I need you so bad. I love you, Steve."

"Love you more, angel." His hands found your waist and held you closer to him. The distant sound of his garage door shutting sent him into overdrive, and he immediately began tearing your shirt back off, setting it on the comforter beside you before leaving hot kisses across your chest and shoulders. His fingers gripped the soft skin of your waist, carefully grinding you into him.

"Steve." There was no place where your hands felt perfect. His motions were more than overstimulating, and your body didn't know how to react. They went to his hair, his back, his face, his chest, and nothing was right. You needed him in a way that wasn't possible. You wanted to meld your bodies together and never separate.

"Is this okay for you?" He asked breathlessly, lips immediately resuming their kisses on your skin. Steve was vocal in bed, he always was, and he wanted the same from you. Craved that sensual reassurance even on the days when he was spitting in your mouth and fucking you senseless.

"Yeah," you answered. "More than okay. So good, Steve."

He hummed against your neck, and the vibrations were all-consuming. You felt them in your chest and fingertips. Involunatrily, your legs attempted to squeeze together at the motion, making him smile cockily and pull away from you. His hands remained on your skin, thumbs teasingly rubbing circles just under the waistband of your underwear.

"You look so pretty like this," he cooed, brushing your hair back from where it was stuck to your forehead with sweat. "A mess for me. I don't know how you do it."

"Do what?" You were panting on top of him, trying not to desperately rub yourself against him again to regain that pleasurable feeling. Steve only grinned up at you sweetly, pulling a bra strap back over your shoulder.

"You're just perfect all the time. Like you're all sweaty and out of breath right now, but it's fucking turning me on. How do you do that? If I weren't so confident the way you make me feel would scare me."

"Steve Harrington you are the love of my life. I hope I make you feel like that for the rest of eternity." Your hands cupped his face, running your thumbs across his flushed cheeks. "My handsome boy."

He kissed you then. A slow, passionate kiss that made a flame ignite in your stomach. His hands pulled at your underwear and you rolled off of him, reluctantly pulling away from the kiss and kicking your underwear off before attaching your lips to his again, though only for a second this time. Quickly, you made your way to his stomach, leaving sweet kisses down the skin until you reached his underwear, where you helped him tug them off.

"C'mere," he said, voice strained at the sight of your face so close to his cock. It would've been impossible for him to be any harder in that moment, but he swore he felt himself tighten even more. You listened, bringing your face back up to his. "You can't be doing all that. Too pretty, gonna make me cum before I get to feel you, angel."

In that moment, you'd never felt hotter. Heat was rushing throughout your body like crazy, seeing how desperate he was for you. Watching his eyes roam your body feverishly. You nodded, waiting for him to guide you on top. He did, his fingers gripping your hips tightly as he helped lift you off of the mattress beside him and onto his dick, easing you down.

"F-fuck," he stuttered, hands tightening. Your breath hitched in your throat and your palms laid against his forearms for support. Once he was completely in, he wasted no time lifting you back up and down onto him again. A moan left your lips, and little red crescents marked his skin as you grabbed onto him harder. He kept his pace, aided by you bouncing with him, both of your sinful sounds filling the air of his room.

You threw your head back as his happy trail tickled your clit once more, but his hand was quick to wrap around the back of your neck, forcing you to look back at him.

"Talk to me baby, I'm almost there," he ordered, although his tone was soft. It drove you crazy, the way he talked to you like this.

"I'm about to--" Your head fell against his, and his name tumbled from your mouth repeatedly as you felt your walls clench around Steve's cock, pleasure filling your abdomen as you came all over him, breath uneven and legs shaking, but still working as Steve used you to chase his own orgasm.

He was grunting and groaning, sloppily thrusting himself into you and guiding you over him as he came inside of you, strings of praises and sweet nothings leaving his pretty mouth as he continued working. As soon as he pulled out, his cum leaked out of your entrance, earning a tortured groan from Steve at the sight. It was filthy, it was erotic, it was perfect. He brought your face to his and kissed you gently, pulling away to catch his breath.

"You get better every time," he whispered, lips brushing against yours as you breathed each other in.

"So do you. Always outdoing yourself," you replied lowly. "Fuck, that was so good, Steve."

"You were so good."

[lina-lovebug]

You Are Mine, p. 3

Synposis: You and Quaritch are mated but your sister, Neytiri, cannot accept him

Warnings: cussing, Neytiri hating Quaritch

Usually in a situation like this, Miles Quaritch would be yelling and pissed off.

But him falling into a stream because he tried catching a fish with his bare hands and his mate laughing at him only brought him pure joy.

"Oh, you think this is funny?" Miles questioned, grabbing me by my hands and pulling me in.

I gasped as the cold water hit my skin and hit his chest playfully.

"You skxawng!"

Your laughter was heard from miles around. Neytiris' ears flicked downwards, and she growled under her breath.

"What's wrong?" Kiri questioned.

"She should not have mated with him," Neytiri expressed, "He is a bad man. He is the reason your grandfather is dead."

"Nothing could ever change what he did, mom. But I can see he's trying to make amends-"

"Nothing can-!"

"He loves her, mom!" Kiri stopped Neytiri.

"I can see it. There's a reason they met, and why Aunt (Y/N) fell in love with him. You trust your sister, and I know that my aunt would not be tricked like this," Kiri saw the love between them, and it wasn't fake. Miles Quaritch wasn't deceiving her.

But Neytiri wouldn't believe it.

He's a monster and always would be, in her eyes.

He killed their father.

"He regrets it. I can-"

"Kiri, you are young. You cannot fathom what he has done."

"It wasn't just him! I love dad, but he knew. He knew what was coming and you still love him."

"It was different-!"

"Hey, hey, what's going on?" Jake interrupted, hearing the commotion as he came home with Lo'ak and Neteyam.

"Dad, please, you have to give Miles a chance. You were once one of them, you thought like them, you even thought of us as savages," Now that hurt Jake.

"I swear to you on Eywa that he's changed. He loves (Y/N)."

"I can see it," Lo'ak spoke up.

"The way he watches her was weird, but it wasn't in a creepy way. He looks at her like you look at mom," Lo'ak told Jake, who knew the truth but it was Quaritch. He hated the natives more than anyone.

And yet he mated with one of them.

"Hey, is everything alright?"

Neytiri looked back to see him. He was wearing Na'vi clothing, he looked like Na'vi, but she knows hatred when it's infront of her.

"You will never be one of us," Neytiri sneered before walking away, Neteyam and Lo'ak following after their mother.

Miles ears fell back, knowing this wouldn't be easy.

"I don't give a damn what she tells me, but (Y/N) misses her sister. I can't stand seeing her like this," Despite how hard he's tried, he knew that all his mate wanted was for her sister to forgive her and accept him.

And the problem of the humans. They had to have figured out by now that Miles betrayed them and had to be looking.

Fighting his own spaud was going to be a bitch.

"I don't like you all that much right now either, but I know (Y/N), and she wouldn't choose if she didn't know that you've changed," Maybe she was right. Just like Jake, Miles had grown to see the beauty of Pandora and its people.

"Oh, and Miles?"

"Yes?"

Jake had punched him in the face, causing Spider and Tuk to gasp.

"That's for trying to kill me."

"Yeah, I should've seen that coming."

But before anything else, everyone heard a scream. Miles ears folded back, recognizing the voice as his (Y/N).

Him and Jake exchanged a look of worry before running in the direction of the scream.

What happened? Is she okay? Why did I leave her alone?

Thousands of thoughts were racing through his mind, regretting every second he wasn't by your side.

"Tell me who sent you!"

"Let go of me, bitch!"

Only to find (Y/N) holding Corporal Lyle by his queue and with a dagger to his throat. Blood dripped from his nose and mouth, showing that he got a good beat down in the few seconds it took them to get to her.

"Colonel! Tell this bitch to let go of me!" But then he noticed something. . .off. His Corporal wasn't in his gear but instead, he looked like one of them.

"So it's true. You did run off. For what?! Some quick native pussy?!"

Before Miles could beat the living shit out of him, an arrow shot through the brush and into his skull.

That arrow was so fast, and if Neytiri was feeling extra vengeful, she could've easily killed him. She glanced at Miles as she came out of the bush.

"You better be ready to lay down your life for her," Neytiri hissed, and (Y/N) looked towards her mate.

"Always."

[biographydivider]

I couldn’t stop thinking about @cupcakeslushie‘s Donnie in his lil black cami in one of the latest comics from their Separated AU, so I wrote a little lighthearted April and Donnie day out in its honour. I would lay down my life for hyper, slowly-learning-he-deserves-to-be-loved Three, and he deserves something fluffy💜

She found him crouched in a corner, behind a rack of coats, rubbing a black satin camisole between his hands and chirruping contentedly to himself.

April shoulda known D wasn’t ready for a trip out.

“Donnie,” she hissed, pushing aside a gigantic, furry, pink monstrosity in order to see her brother better, “what are you doing?!”

“April!” Donnie yelled, beaming. “How pleasant to see you here!”

A woman walking past tutted, saying something about kids these days and no manners. April whipped her head around to glare daggers at her retreating back. D had a volume control problem; so what? Least he wasn’t a passive-agressive bitch about it.

“Donnie. We came in together. Remember? I gotta pick out some jeans and then we’re going to get --” 

“Boba. I remember, I remember.” Donnie clicked his fingers at her, nodding so fast April wasn’t sure how he didn’t tweak a muscle. “But look what I found; look look look look.” He inched his way out of the coat rack and was pushing the vest into April’s hand, still passing the material back and forth between his finger and thumb. “Oooh. Soooooft.”

His eyes glittered with delight, and April had to press her lips together to stop herself from laughing; she had to at least try to be a voice of reason, here.

“Get up. You look like a pervert. Sittin’ on the floor with undergarments in y’hands.” She hauled Donnie to his feet, re-adjusting his hood so his green skin wasn’t as visible. “‘Nah, Raphie,’” she muttered sarcastically to herself, “‘Me an’ D’ll be fine on our own for one afternoon, suuuure...’”

“I’m going to buy it,” Donnie was saying, looking down at the puddle of satin in his palms. “I’m going to buy it - with the money Spl...that Papa gave me. And I’ll only use it to clean up my very best paints. Or I’ll make it into a...a pillowcase. Ooh, or even better; I’ll hang it up on the wall in my room! And when I finally - finally! - get my hands on some uranium I’ll use it to create a pattern on the fabric - so when I use my blacklight, it shines! Or...”

“Or,” April interrupted, slinging her arm around Donnie’s neck, “you could wear it. Like you’re supposed to.”

A tiny crease appeared between Donnie’s unnervingly immaculate brows. “Wear it?”

“It’s a cami. To go under your clothes? Or by itself, so you can show off those guns of yours.” April poked her brother in the bicep and was quietly thrilled to hear him laugh under his breath at the joshing. There was a time when Donnie had flinched away from any and all roughhousing; which, as the family slowly and tentatively tried to glue themselves back together, made April sadder that she’d ever mention out loud.

“Papa said no guns in the lair. I asked.” Donnie’s gaze was torn away from the camisole. “And I can’t wear it. Not something this nice. I’d...I’d spoil it. Tear it. Get it dirty.” Suddenly, that manic glitter in her brother’s eyes was clouded by a shimmer of tears. “C-contaminate it.”

Well. If that didn’t just break your heart. It suddenly occured to April exactly why Donnie had hidden himself away with his treasure, without showing her or telling her where he was going. Because he didn’t feel worthy of something as inconsequential as a stupid vest top.

Donnie and April hadn’t exactly got on when he’d first crash-landed in her life. Being used to big, kind, stalwart Raphael hadn’t prepared April for a brother who was spiky, loud and more than a little brittle. But then Three...Donnie...D...had started to relax. A little. And Raph had told her things, like when they’d had a trip to the junkyard together and he’d learned a little more about his brother’s past. No wonder this kid thought he was a walking bio-hazard. And slowly, the loudness had started to look like passion, the spikes like defensive armour. The brittleness like a desperation to be loved. And if there was one thing April could do, it was love.

“Get in there,” she said, shoving Donnie towards a changing booth at the back of the store.

“Why?”

“Just do it!”

“It’s too bright!”

“I know, changing rooms have bad lighting so you feel like shit an’ buy their stuff to feel prettier.”

“I see -- aghh! My face! My porous face in the mirror!”

“Close your eyes, then, and put your arms up.”

“Why?”

“Just do it!”

“April I refuse to be part of this harshly-lit torture chamber for a moment --”

”Okay fine! Come out. Better? Okay. Arms up. Hoodie off - just for a second, then you can have it back, alright? Then just slip your hands through those holes there, let me just pull that into place annnnd...yep! Open your eyes.”

As Donnie regarded himself in the mirror, April wondered if she’d made a mistake. His body language was...well, it was non-existent. He’d gone stock still, staring blankly at his own torso. Then, both hands came up to flatten the material against his plaston, and a shaky, wobbling smile broke across her brother’s face. It was only when those hands began to flap, fanning the sides of his face, that April could finally breathe.

“I look...resplendent.”

“Dang right you do!” April squeezed his shoulder, snapping off the tag at the nape of his neck. That way, the lady at the counter could scan the barcode without interrupting Donnie’s flow. “I should do this for a living. April O’Neil; Personal Shopper! So - how would you rate your experience with us today, sir? Very satisfied, very very satisfied, extremely satisfied...?”

[wazzappp]

I drew. a lot for this. Also heads up for non RE mutuals this is going to be. confusing for you. I'm going to do my best to annotate and provide context but you are in for a wild ride.

Anyway long ass lore post for how Lisa and Robbie go from fighting to working together in this AU.

In the RE8 cannon all of the Dimitrescu daughters are made at the same time but for the sake of ✨the situations✨ I am going to change that. Lisa lived the longest as a human before being assimilated into the mold with a Cadou (infecting extension of the Megamycite). Technically her 'sisters' are older than her, as they were assimilated a while ago. Lisa has been a member of house Dimitrescu for about 2 years now. This puts her in this. Weird middle child zone. She wants to make her 'family' proud but she's also aware that what makes them proud isn't really the most achievable thing in the world (expecially with Bela to contend with. Older sibling overachiever to the maximum). She's got a certain degree of distance from them and sometimes wonders if she wasn't better off before all of this. Her memories are fuzzy but still there for the most part. She cant remember faces or names but she remembers feelings and situations. She doesen't remember families being like this (she wants OUT).

Chasing prey brought in is fairly standard for her. It's some of the only entertainment she gets. So when she catches Robbie exploring around the castle she has no idea that he's special in any way. He's just some new guy she gets to mess with before eating and DAMN he's FUN. If she didn't know any better she could almost think that he has experience being chased around (he does. he very much so does. all of RE7's worth). What she ALSO doesn't know is that Mother Miranda (big bad. Different from Lady Dimitrescu, who she refers to as 'mother') is planning on using Gabe (who is replacing baby Rose in this) to try and resurrect her dead kid with a 'perfect vessel' and this requires. uh. disassembly (in the base RE8 gameplay the reason Ethan goes to each house is because uhhhhhhhh his infant daughter has been dismembered and stored in jars and he needs to collect them so he can put her back together.... yeah). Robbie intervenes before this can get going and is instead going house to house because if he wants to get out of this stupid fuckass villiage he needs to collect the key components to unlock the gate keeping him in here (i need him to have a reason. to kill everyone. its important to me ok).

When Lisa finds out this random, but fun guy, she's been chasing who she thought was JUST SOME NORMAL GUY killed one of her sisters she mentally goes 'Oh. OH. THERES A CHANCE FOR ME TO GET OUT OF HERE'. That in conjunction with discovering Mother Miranda is planning on FULLY DISMEMBERING A CHILD she uh. Makes some decisions.

What you have to understand about her plans of matricide is that neither Lady Dimitrescu or her sisters can actually really fully die. Sure, their bodies are gone, but their consciousness is stored in the hive mind and they can reform later after gathering their strength. If she has to put her kinda shitty found family in time out for the sake of getting herself out of here + keeping her newly revived conscience clean she's absolutely going to do it.

(fuckin. backgrounds. dialogue. fuck. why can things not just take place inside of the void. DUKE MY BELOVED WE LOVE AND RESPECT DUKE IN THIS HOUSE HES A REAL ONE fuck now I got it in my head that he keeps trying to play matchmaker for them and i need to. go draw that because its too funny not to.)

Lisas plan involves this lab I had her mention in the comic above. It's where Robbie needs to go to synthesize more poison for the dagger of deaths flowers, and SUPPOSEDLY where a medicine that might allow her to go outside again might be (enemies of Lisas type become SIGNIFICANTLY weaker in the cold. She could try to bundle up but its still really not a good idea). She would love to go there herself, but it's in an area of the castle thats exposed to the cold of the outdoors.

The Two of them make a fairly decent team and Lisa finds herself having a LOT more fun hunting with someone else than she does on her own. They balance each other out pretty well; Robbie works primarily with guns so he can watch Lisas back while she's up close wrecking any grunts they run into. It's also pretty helpful having someone who can turn into a swarm of flies for puzzle solving purposes.

After all this Robbies trust for her increases SIGNIFICANTLY. He's still not really sure about her, but she's moved out of the 'active threat' classification into the 'kinda helpful' zone.

Lisa's plan has three ways it could go:

They all fail miserably and get sent to mental and physical time out in the megamycite.

They win and get to go free but either the medicine isn't there or it doesen't work. In which case she's just planning on getting as many coats as possible and Try-or-Die-ing it.

The medicine is there and she actually gets to roam free

Luckily for her, the medicine IS there, it DOES work, and Robbies sense of honor / noticing her usefulness (its hard to wage a one man war on an entire community of mutants ok you cant blame him for appreciating having some ACTUAL HELP for once) all align for the best possible scenario.

The cold does still affect her; her healing isn't as quick as it usually is and her increased strength / speed is a bit reduced, but she can go!! outside!!

She decided to stick with Robbie in getting out of the village as a whole. She doesen't really know what the world outside is like but anything has to be better than here (plus if she stays here she's probably getting shoved into the Megamycite by Mother Miranda PERMENANTLY and that just. wont do).

Also yes Lisa being with Robbie for the rest of his adventures means that she is there for Heisenbergs 'proposal'. She uh. Does not like that much.

this all made. more sense in my head I hope it at least makes a little sense out loud.

[legendarypalacepaperpony]

Hi 😊

I love love love all the stories and one-shots about Eris, but could not find anything close to something that came to my mind the other day. So I decided to do it myself, *evil crackle*.

I'd love some feedback since it's the first time, I've written anything like this in English 😅

Trigger Warnings: mention of abuse and torture, scars, blood, desperation, mental health issues

Sweet Relief

Blood surrounded Eris. It was on the walls, it coated the floor, it filled his lungs.

The male looked around in panic for a few moments before his eyes caught on the reason for all the unnecessary bloodshed. Beron stood across from him, holding a bloodied dagger in his right hand.

"Thank you for joining us, Eris", Beron snarled, a crazed look in his russet eyes. Eyes, that looked so much like his own, that Eris consciously avoided his own mirror.

"I knew that I raised a pathetic excuse for a male. But to think you are too weak to face the consequences of your own actions." Beron shook his head in disappointment.

"Maybe I should have just strangled you in your crib".

Eris blinked dazedly to fight the fog clouding his mind. He gazed down upon himself, trying to discern the source of all the surrounding blood.

But, save for the ropes that bound him to his chair, the male's skin was pristine. Well, as pristine as it could be, after all the years of torture, his father put him trough in the name of "training".

The Lording frowned, looking up and continuing his search. Now, it finally dawned on him. The blood did not belong to him, if belonged to his brothers.

Two of them, Shay and Connor, were tied up across from him, barely even recognizable. Desperation filled Eris.

He didn't hold much love for his other siblings, but Shay and Connor were the ones he could actually confide in. The ones that he trusted, the ones that trusted him.

And now? What had that trust got them? Save for a cruel, useless death?

The male started to shake. His heart was beating frantically in his chest. "Wha- What is going on? Why are you doing this?" he croaked, desperately trying to discern if his brothers were still alive, by some miracle he didn't deserve.

Beron laughed menacingly. "You, out of all people, should know why I am doing this," he hissed. "They were traitors. And Traitors. Are. Punished."

His father turned around, motioning for the guards, who were now dragging another body into the dungeon's torture chamber. The person was flung to the ground in front of the High Lord.

Beron cracked his neck before bending down to the new prisoner. "You don't have anything to say, Eris? Fine, we'll just need to up the pressure then."

Eris took a deep breath to calm himself down. He had played his father's games for so long, he could hold on just a bit longer.

But besides the smell of his brothers' blood, he could discern another scent. A scent, that he knew better than he knew himself. A scent, that had calmed his raging mind after a lot of nightmares. A scent, that turned so deliciously heavy with arousal.

Eris started to throw himself against his bindings in desperation, ripping the skin at his wrists open in the process.

"NO!", he shouted, trying desperately to get to you. "I'll tell you everything. Everything. Just please, please let her go", Eris pleaded, pain in his eyes as hi gazed upon you.

"You'll tell me everything?", Beron asked, amusement colouring his voice. "Fine. Who is the leader of this pesky little revolution then?" he hissed whilst clutching your hair tightly in his fist, ripping your head upwards and placing the blade at your neck.

"I....", Eris breathed, suddenly unsure. He did not know anything about a revolution, let alone its leaders.

"I don't know."

"You do not know, hmm?", his father hummed. "Well, looks like your mate's life is not worth as much to you as I thought."

Eris looked at you with pain and desperation. Your own eyes however told a different story.

They held so much love, so much trust, that Eris started to weep.

"It's OK," you whispered, voice hoarse from disuse. "I love you, I will always love you".

"I swear, I do not know anything. Just let her go, I beg of you." Eris pleaded. But to no avail.

Eris summoned fire in his hands in an attempt to free himself from his restraints, just as Beron lifted his dagger, ready to deliver a killing blow.

"NOOOOO!" Eris screamed whilst the dagger sank into your heart.

And Eris felt it unravel. He felt the bond unravel. The bond that he did not deserve, the one he had never deserved.

And just as the male felt the final strands of this glowing connection in his chest break, he heard your voice calling out to him.

"Eris, my love. Stop. Please. You're hurting me".

And the male sat up.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ The first thing Eris noticed when he woke up was the scent of burning skin.

His eyes ripped open immediately, just to find himself clutching your arm in his hand.

The very same hand that was covered in fresh burns from his own, flaming hands.

The male let go of you immediately, scrambling back on the bed, tears starting to streak over his cheeks.

"I hurt you", he croaked, looking down at his hands with disgust. "I burnt you. I'm just like him."

"Hey," you breathed softly, slowly scooting closer to your mate. "It's OK. You didn't do it on purpose".

Eris looked up at you sharply. "No, this is not OK. I lost control, I caused you pain. You're my mate and I caused you pain".

He started breathing faster and faster, desperately trying to calm himself down. To keep himself from accidentally burning you again.

His efforts caused his skin to heat up to levels, where it would be unsafe for any other creature to touch him.

Suddenly, he felt one of your hands on his cheek, coated in a thin layer of ice. Eris flinched and looked up at the hand incredulously.

"What are you doing?", he breathed. His eyes scoured your face for any indication of your intentions.

"Isn't it obvious, my love?" you asked softly, gently taking his face between your hands.

"I'm trying to calm you down".

Eris swallowed harshly. "B-B-But what a-about the fire? I could hurt you!"

"You would never hurt me, darling" you whispered, leaning close to his ear before pressing your body close against his,curling your arms around him, cooling him off.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Eris shook his head, pulling you close and pressing his face into your neck, where your sleepy scent was most intense.

He just let you hold him for what felt like an eternity, his heart slowly calming down.

You gently entangled yourself from your mate's arms, causing him to tense up and gaze at you in alarm.

"How about a warm bath, hmm? Just to relax?" you offered, making sure to never stop touching him.

"You're gonna join me, right?" Eris asked carefully whilst looking at you with big eyes.

A gentle smile gazed your face. "Of course, my love," you breathed, pressing a gentle kiss against your mate's forehead.

You slowly detangled yourself from the sheets before walking into the bathing chamber and starting a warm bath. You were humming to yourself whilst adding lavender scented soap into the water.

Suddenly, a pair of strong, scarred arms wrapped around your waist and a head of thick auburn hair drooped onto your shoulder. You leaned into your mate with a sigh, snuggling close into his warm chest.

"Come now, love. The bath is ready." you whispered softly before turning around to look at your mate. Eris smiled at you gently before lifting your arm to inspect the burn he left there. Sadness filled his gaze before his eyes flickered to you.

"I'm sorry."

"I know", you breathed, sending a flood of unconditional love down the bond.

Eris eyes widened, before he gently ran his thumb over the burn, healing it in an instant.

You disrobed each other, your movements gentle but without any sexual intent.

Eris stepped into the bathtub before holding his hand out for you, making sure you didn't fall whilst stepping into the slippery tub.

"C'mere" you said to your mate, leaning back against the side of the tub and motioning for him to sit down with his back to you.

Eris did just as you requested.

His tight back muscles started to relax, and his shoulders started to drop as you started to gently lather up his hair, caressing his scalp.

You washed your mates' hair in silence, simply letting him work out his nightmare on his own.

The two of you stayed in the bathtub until the water was cold, and you started to nod off.

Only then, your mate got out of the tub, gently lifted you out of it and carried you to bed.

Whilst walking, your mate gently dried you off with his magic before dropping you into the fresh, clean sheets. The magic of the forest house must have swapped them out already.

Your mate laid down beside you, gently pulling you against his chest, burying his face into your hair, whilst you wrapped yourself around him like a koala.

"I love you," he whispered.

"Love you too", you mumbled back, already half asleep.

Eris smiled into your hair, pulling you indefinitely closer to his warm chest, delighting in the love that flowed into him from the mating bond, before falling asleep.

Safe.

In the arms of his mate.

[sugary-cherriboi]

Please, Wake Up

Shinjiro x Gn!Reader

Summary: You go out to search for Shinjiro, which you do. You protect him only for him to blame himself.

The Dark Hour seemed to go on forever. The Shadows getting more persistant and powerful. Or maybe you were just getting slower and weaker. Alone, there was nowhere to run or even anywhere to hide. Just you and your persona out here. Gripping on your blade, you charged towards the shadow. "GYaaaaaH!!" You screamed out as you slashed down on the shadow with a great might. It faded away as you stood up straight. You turn and bolted. Staying in one place for too long could be it for you. The only reason you were out here was for him.

Why did he have to run away? Why couldn't he just come back already?

Tears began to well as anger bubbled in your stomach. He had so much power and he decided to throw it all away? You never could really understand what went through his head. He was just so...distant. Distant from everything, even his own emotions. It got worse when those incidents happened, which is understandable.

As you ran, several shadows jumped out from a nearby alley. "Damn." You began to slash at the shadows as you tried to perserve some of your energy. Defeating them, you looked down the alley. Eyes widening, there was a glimpse of a red coat passing around a corner. Dashing, your legs took off without your input. Sliding your away around a corner, you stopped dead in your tracks. Panting as you saw the site in front of you.

Him.

He was on the ground as he seemed to breathing heavily and sweating. Rushing to his side, you knelt down. "Shinjiro!" You called his name as you grabbed onto his long, red coat. His face was in agony. Your eyes wondered down to a few holes with blood pouring out. He was obviously hurt. "Hold on!" Quickly, you pulled out your evoker and shot yourself. "Persona!" Summoning your persona, you placed your hands gently onto him. A soft blue hue emitted from your eyes as your persona leaned down and placed its hands on him as well. Tears built up in your eyes.

"W-why? Why are you here?" He grumbled as he tried to sit himself up.

You glared at him. "Why do you think so?" Obviously annoyed he'd even ask that question fully knowing the answer to.

"Leave me." He mumbled as he pushed you away weakily.

You shook your head as you went back into your position. "Not happening." His wounds were deep, but you had to try.

"You need to get outta here." He weakly spoke.

Another head shake from you. "You're a dumbass, you know that?" You glared daggers at him as you glanced over. "We're worried about you and then you go out and hurt your-"

He interrupted you by gripping onto your wrist. You turned to look him directly in the eyes. "Just leave." He pleaded. But his pleads fell deaf onto your ears as you continued to heal him. His wounds were much deeper than you had anticipated. Shaking your head again, you stopped as you slung one of his arms around your shoulders. "What are you doin-"

"I'm getting you back to dorm."

Thud!!

Both of your eyes widened as a huge shadow dropped down from above and landed right in front of you. You backed up while holding Shinjiro. "Get out of here-gyag-"You flopped him back down onto the ground causing him to wince in pain.

Grabbing your evoker, you readied for battle. "I will not let you die here." The shadow was huge, towering high above. Multiple limbs flung around. A few hands held with misshapened weapons. It didn't help you used quite a bit of your energy up trying to heal Shinjiro up. This fight may be too much for you to handle.

Gripping your hands more securely on your weapon, you readied for an attack. The shadow swung down on to the weaponized limbs, but you rolled out of the way. Quickly grabbing your evoker, you shot yourself. "Persona! Attack!" Your persona charged towards the shadow and bashed a few limbs.

WHAM!

A limb slammed you against the wall. "Gyah!" Sliding down the wall, your body dropped to the ground. Trying to pick yourself back up, your body was weak from the sudden and harsh attack from the shadow. With too many limbs, this thing was more than a challenge. Pushing yourself back up to your feet, you hunched over, gripping tighter onto your evoker. You glanced at Shinjiro. He still laid in his spot where you dropped him at. In the corner of your eye, you saw a limb reach towards him. "YOU WON"T TOUCH HIM!" You screamed out as you dashed over to him. Slamming a foot down, lowering your body down and realing your fist back, you sent your weight and fist upwards to decimate the limb reaching out. Sliding your feet, you moved to face towards the shadow with Shinjiro laying behind you. Your breath became hitched. The impact had caused more damage to you than you had first realized.

Aiming your evoker to your temple, you called out. "PERSONA!" Firing it to once again summon your persona. A burst of energy surged as it attacked the shadow again. "Again!" Another attack towards the shadow. Another. And another. Tears slowly leaked down your face, thinking of Shinjiro and what would happen to him if you didn't defeat this shadow.

A limb caught you off guard, slamming your body against the ground and pinning you. The evoker had been knocked out of your hand. You grabbed onto the boney fingers of the hand, trying to pry them off but to no avail. Kicking your legs had no effect as well. You even tried to bite it, but nothing was going to move this heavy weight. It slowly leaned closer to you.

Was there nothing you could now?

More tears fell down your face. Mitsuru and Akihiko had no idea that you had went to go find Shinjiro tonight. You doubt that they even knew of this shadow right now.

KLANG

Your eyes as you looked backwards as the shadow whipped its hand from the source of pain. An upside down view of Shinjiro who had just swung down his axe onto the shadow's hand. Time had seemed to stop for a breif moment as you stared at the man, taking in his appearance. His left arm limp with blood trickling down. His breaths were quick and sharp. His hair messy and misplaced on his face. The bags under his eyes were heavy.

He collasped to his knees, having his axe prop him up a bit. "Get your ass up. This fight ain't over."

You nodded as you picked yourself up, leaning over to pick your evoker up as well. Furrowing your brows at the shadow, your hand balls up. Raising your evoker to your temple once again, hoping that this would be the last time it would be fired off tonight. "Ready?" You questioned.

"Let's get this over with." Nodding, you both lunged towards the shadow together in sync for one final attack. Attacking the shadow with all your might, you built up energy and slammed it into the shadow's body. Shinjiro reeled his axe behind and swung into its side.

The shadow screamed out a horrific agonizing scream as it squirmed around, flailing its limbs around. Quickly, you wrapped an arm around Shinjiro's stomach and dashed away from the shadow, being cautious of the shadow may do. You had only got so far before the two of you fell to the ground.

Glancing behind you, all you could see was a glint of light as something flew towards the two of you. Instinctively, you immediaitely hover your body over Shinjiro's.

Sharp pain filled your shoulder, close to your neck, as whatever was flying towards you stabbed straight through. Blood poured out and down all over his coat, staining it a darker red. Even coughing caused the red liquid to be thrown everywhere. A firey sensation spread through your body, making you nauseous.

"H-hey." A shakey hand was placed on your arm. You fell on top of Shinjiro, causing the thing sticking through your shoulder to partially slide back through. The pain flared up again. Shinjiro sat himself up. "Hey!" He shook your shoulder.

Your vision was blurring from the teariness and the pain. A ringing buzzed in your ears as your body was trying to get you to not focus on the pain. You weakily placed a hand on what you assumed to be Shinjiro's chest. "per-so-na." Your voice was weak as a soft glow emitted from your eyes, only this time the blue was much more dull.

"Stop it!" He pleaded, but his words fell deaf. He grabbed onto your wrist. "Heal yourself damn it!!" His eyes watered a bit as he saw how stupid you were acting right now.

"Shin-ji-ro." You mumbled. "Please live." Those were the last words you spoke before your hand went limp.

"HEY!" Shinjrio screamed. "This isn't funny!" His words were met with no response. He scooped your limp body up, careful to not mess with the blade that went through you. There was only one place he could take you. The dorm. He rushed to get some help for you.

*******

"The doctor said they'll be fine for now." The three were in the cold, bland hospital room where you laid unconscious. Akihiko and Mitsuru were standing in front of the bed you laid while Shinjiro hung his head sitting on the side. All that was goign through his head was that this was all his fault. He was the reason you were laying there instead of him. "I'm afraid they have no idea when they'll wake up." Mitsuru spoke up, giving the bad news.

Shinjiro gripped onto his pant legs, cursing at himself. He wish that this would of never happened and he should of died in that alley alone.

Mitsuru and Akihiko looked towards one another as they were unsure of how to react or really comfort Shinjiro. Mitsuru soon took her leave and left the two to be by your side. Akihiko crossed his arms as he looke at Shinjiro. "It's not your fau-"

"It is too!" Shinjiro snapped. "If I hadn't of gotten close to them, then this would of never happened! I should of died in that stupid alleyway." He leaned back, crossing his arms as he turned away from Akihiko.

The white haired boy frowned. "You're a dumbass! You know that?" Akihiko was trying to come up with something to say. "You really think they'd wan-"

"Shut the hell up." Shinjiro interrupted him. "You have no idea what they want." His eyes dodge away from him as he knew what they wanted. As much he wanted to admit that he should have been the laying in that hospital bed, he knew they wanted him to live. Even for the little bit of time he had left.

"Tch." Akihiko rolled his eyes as he stomped out of the room, making sure he gently closed the door behind himself, leaving the two of you to yourselves.

All Shinjiro could do was stare at your unconscious body on the bed. Your face pale with dry cracked lips. Your hair was all out of place. Nothing about you seemed to you. Several ivs and machines were hooked up to your body. The only noise in the room was that damn machine. That occassional beep to say you were alive. To him, this was no better than being dead. Cursed to never wake up again while still alive. It was tough for him to cope with the fact that his actions lead you to this. This whole situation could of been avoided if he'd never gotten close to you. Never of survived the first attck. Or if that incident never occured. All his thoughts were plagued with regrets. Regrets of ever dragging you into this.

Sighing, he laid his head beside you, burying his face into the shitty, itchy blanket. "Please. Wake Up." Was all he mumbled as he closed his eyes, letting his thoughts eat at him before quietly fell asleep.

[anjellaufeyson]

RITUALISTIC SACRIFICIAL LOVE - Michael Langdon

It was the end of times, the apocalypse. Every person I stood with was backstabbing, prideful, and dull. I came from a wealthy family, yes. But I came from a family who had morals, rare but true. A traditional family that almost suffocated me with their rules. I played with my cross neckless, a gold chain laid upon my chest. I stayed true to my faith, as true as one could be in this state. 

“You–come with me, it’s your turn,” the man said in a deep yet calm voice. 

He gave me a weird feeling, like he was pure evil but his demeanor was indifferent. He ranged between the look of heaven yet his personality was on the verge of evil but stood on sinful. His demeanor could deceive even the best. I followed him into a dimly lit room, his hands lingered on the desk. He leaned over on it from the other side. “If you lie, I will know. If you try to trick me, I will know and this interview will be over and you will be left to die…now let’s begin. Do you believe you’re evil?” 

His words were so serene that you almost wouldn’t think to weigh what he was asking you to answer, “Yes.” 

The expression on his face changed, I’m assuming he didn’t expect that answer to leave my lips. “And why is that?” 

I stared at him, taking in every feature and every malevolent thing about him. “I’ve wished death upon everyone in this hellhole. I’ve come to even welcome the thought of death, as long as it means I wouldn’t have to spend another second here. But my God has kept me strong.” 

His gaze lifted, his eyes glared at me, “your God?” I nodded and a stomach-twisting grin arose on his face. “Do you fear during your time here you’ll fall into temptation?” He walked around the desk and stepped closer to me, closer than I was comfortable with. “I take it you’re aware of the seven sins?” I nodded once more, staring at him and the proximity we stood within. “Which one do you believe you’ll fall into?” His words came out slowly.

I took a step back and he followed, “Envy.” 

His hands hooked behind his back, “Is that right? Most would’ve said–lust.” 

I was hesitant to speak, where is he going with this? “I have no reason to say that, I’m ‘pure’.” Almost regretfully I’ve never gotten the opportunity to lose it before the end of the world. But maybe that’ll help my chances. “Is this interview done now?”

A smile appeared on his face as he brushed my hair out of mine, “So eager.” He finally stepped back, “Would you ever fall into such a deadly sin? The irreversible sin?” 

I shook my head, “I have no reason to. God forbid anything tempting enough would slither its way to me. Why risk eating the forbidden fruit when you’re already comfortable with the knowledge you already hold?” Years of catholicism will leave you using bible stories as metaphors. 

The glimmer in his eyes made me realize the difference between good and evil. His breathing became heavy, “Good answer.”

Assuming it was the last one I headed towards the door, “Did I make the cut…what was your name again, sorry?” 

He raised his head while staring daggers into me with his blue eyes, “Michael Langdon…and we’ll see, you still have one test.” 

I walked to my room and sat in silence, it’s either here or downstairs with the dumbasses I’m forced to live with. I opened the one book I had time to pack, and the rest perished. The bible clung to my hands. I closed my eyes and felt my breathing get softer and warmer. My body felt like it was falling into the depths of sleep. 

God, is this the biggest test of my faith? What is to come of me? 

As I begged in faith, my door creaked. Is this a dream? There entering my domain of solitude was a person dressed in a black latex suit. “What the hell are you doing in my room, get out if I wanted to join you guys down there I would’ve,” I said sternly. The person in the suit shook their head and stepped closer. 

I set my bible in the bedside drawer. The person came closer and it was like my being recognized the person who stood underneath the suit. The tall figure, the feeling that makes me question my faith. It was clear who this was. I took the mask off and it dropped onto the floor as I realized I had been right. “Michael?” I can’t even escape the evil of this world, even in my dreams.

A sinister yet heavenly smile laid upon his face. 

“What is your test,” I asked, a little too fearlessly. The control I had in my dream felt so real. “Is it based upon how humans only care for flesh in this time of desperation and frightfulness? How do they want someone to cling to, how their selfishness is almost pitiful?” I stepped closer and stared into his piercing eyes, “All of us are no better here than the corruption that lies outside these walls.”

He tilted his head a bit in amusement, “Your biblical nature is impressive. Though I’m sure my knowledge on it is more…profound.” 

“Ask away.” 

His eyes turned what I swore to be fully black. He looked so devilish, “How did Satan come to be?”

Easy, one of the easiest questions. “He was God’s favorite, pridefulness struck him and so did foolishness. He lacked what God had plenty of, power. He must’ve found it disappointing that his favorite assumed he was better than the almighty himself. Then he was turned into nothing but a fault in the world and its sins. That’s the best question you have for me?”

Michael glared harshly at me but also seemed as if he was trying to figure me out. “You’re not as persuaded as the others–they easily fell into sin during my visits with them. But you–you stay true to your morals and beliefs.” 

“My faith is not easily shaken.” I stood tall, almost sinfully proud. I glanced down at the floor and then back to Michael. “I think you should get going. There is no test to pass, if I’ve already failed I’m okay with that.” 

His hand raised and he dragged it along my shoulder, moving my hair. He leaned in close to my ear, and I froze. “This is the test your God has laid before you.” 

At first, I was confused but then I remembered what I internally asked God before he entered my room. “Would God bestow such an easy test such as this? This lacks temptation.” 

Michael touched my gold rosary and it felt like he tugged it a bit, causing me to move an inch closer. “Temptation is all around.” He moved his hand and suddenly his hair was shorter, he had a youthful look to him–something more innocent? He had a black cape and he was wearing some maroon.

“How did you–” I paused mid-question, this is my dream. Dreams are unrealistic and filled with illusions. I hated how attractive I found him. 

His hand raised and he rested his hand behind my head. “Rules are made to be broken,” his voice sounded so deceptive. As if he was leading me astray. He moved in closer, his lips inches from mine. “Sins are to be avoided, but if it’s so immoral then why does it feel so good,” he questioned. His words came out slowly and deeply. 

My body was falling into whatever trap he seemed to be laying at my feet. But I turned away, “Michael,” I whispered. His hand dragged itself along my skin to my neck. His rings were cold and I almost gasped at the exposure. 

“Don’t you see how easily the skin falls into sin?” An incomprehensible noise left my lips. “Speak,” he said and so I did. 

“Yes.” 

In a fast motion, he turns me around and pushes me onto my bed. My chest hit the mattress, even in quickness the touch was so gentle. His fingertips dragged along my back as he moved my hair off of my nightgown. 

How could I allow myself to get into this situation? How could I allow myself to not want to get out of it? “This is wrong, morally and strictly. The woman said physical contact between two people is forbidden and punishable by death.” 

A tiny raspy laugh escaped him, “Trust me, I outrank that command.” His hands feel around my waist and I’m about to push them away but he gripped my skin roughly. 

Michael’s touch was so delicate yet rough. Again, him being a constant continuation of good and evil. Innocent and tainted. My will couldn’t be this lost. I stood up and turned around to face Michael. “I can’t do this, it doesn’t feel–right.” 

Something almost hypnotizing showed in his eyes, “This is a dream. What do you have to lose? What moral codes are you breaking?” 

My mind was filled yet hollowed out. The scales were weighed in my mind and just like the other fools I am inferior to survive with–I fell. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him eagerly. He kissed back way more intensely. 

Michael pulled away and I watched as his tongue ran along his teeth. “Ah, every human remains the same. The only societal vice that stands till the end of time.” His head tilted as his thumb touched my chin and held itself there. “What a pity, I hoped you would’ve proved me wrong.” 

A hurt expression washed over my face, “This isn’t a dream…this is the test?” 

“Smart one aren’t you.” 

I moved away from my bed and slowly backed away, “You–you tricked me? I was just a pawn in your experiment.”

Michael followed me in a begging manner, “But don’t you see? You like everyone fell into your needs, and why shy away from that?” His deception rendered me silent. “You passed.”

A/N

What other characters would you like to see one shot on? I just do my current crushes, but I'll take recommendations. Hope you like this one, it's wordier ngl, I was trying something new.

[maggiedanikka]

Superstar (Part 1)

Pairing: Rooster x f!reader, (blink and you'll miss it, unrequited) Hangman x f!reader

Warnings: ANGST, good ending promise

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 19.7k (holy sh*t)

Summary:  “I’m no one special, just another wide eyed girl, who's desperately in love with you.”

OR 

Rooster is sure he's in love with this girl. Only problem is, he's never seen or face or know her name

No use of y/n

Based of off Superstar (Taylor's version) by Taylor Swift

Author's Note: It's me, Hi. This one shot is so freaking late y'all. In all honesty I started writing this August around the time I finished writing Naked, but life and school happened and now here we are. It felt amazing getting to stretch my writing skills again for anything other than research papers, and I'm on winter break so it seems as good a time as any. I'm not going to give anymore excuses, but I promise this is worth a read. This is the longest single piece of work I have ever written. It ended at 65 pages and almost 20k words in my drafts. Its so long that Tumblr won't let post the entire one shot in one post so im splitting it in two, but dw send part will be posted immediately after this is posted. I also didn't have anyone edit this, so I apologize for any grammatical errors (most likely tense consistency bcs i suck at those) I hope you all enjoy reading it as I did writing it and I hope it tide y'all over until I can write the next chapter of Let Me Go. Here is Superstar.

Bradley Bradshaw’s voice was an enigma to you. How could anyone's voice be so hoarse and yet so strong?

As an air traffic controller for the Navy, you’ve heard every type of voice imaginable. The gruff demanding ones from the Air Boss, the shrill screams of pilots having to eject due to a bird strike, the quiet dulcet tones of a shy WSO, and everything in between. 

The first time you heard his voice through the comms, you weren’t exactly starstruck per se, just a bit thrown off.

“This is Dagger 2, asking for clearance for take off.” 

It’s not like you didn’t know who the pilots flying this mission were. Everyone in the goddamn Navy knew who they were, they were the best of the best. 

You even saw their pictures. And thought some of them were cute (especially the one rocking the Miami Vice Stache). But hearing their voices was different from reading their files.

Though most of the details of the mission were classified, you had a basic idea and knew that there was a good chance that someone wasn’t coming home. 

“This is Dagger 2, asking for clearance for take off”

The voice repeated. You snapped out of your thoughts, the voice was smooth as honey and it had just a hint of fear but yet so heavily determined. Your heart really went out to the poor pilot. 

“Dagger 2, you’re clear for take off.” You said, trying to convey as much sympathy as you could in those words. 

The actual mission itself didn’t last longer than 3 minutes. Working for the navy, you should’ve been used to the high stakes situations that often go hand in hand with these kinds of assignments. But you couldn’t help but sit on the edge of your seat during the duration of the mission.

There were a few initial hiccups, you felt like you were watching a movie as you listened to the daggers communicate with one another. Their nervousness (and to be honest your own) upon seeing the SAMs and your both concern and irritation at Lieutenant Bradshaw’s cautiousness. 

Yes, his by the book and precise flying is part of the reason why he was considered one of the best, but if he didn’t throw that shit out of the window and speed up he will end up getting himself killed. And even though you didn’t necessarily know him, this possibility filled your body with so much dread.

You felt relieved (well only slightly, they hadn’t made it out of the woods just yet) when Rooster finally got out of his own head and sped up. The two miracles were successfully pulled off and the 4 jets had made it past Coffin Corner. Now it was a dogfight all the way home.

You commended just how level headed and pragmatic the pilots were as they evaded the SAMs and attacks that were thrusted upon them. You knew if you were in the same situation you would’ve panicked and blown up by now. Your admiration was interrupted by the mayday call of Captain Mitchell.

A heavy tension set in the control room, everyone was shocked at what just transpired. It was interrupted by the voices of the other daggers. Notably Lieutenant Bradshaw and Lieutenant Trace. 

Phoenix had announced that she and Lieutenant Floyd were heading back to home base, along with Payback and Fanboy. However, you were yet to hear confirmation from Rooster, with the last thing he said went along the lines of going after Maverick. 

You held your breath as you heard Admiral Simpson demanded his return. The control room was met with silence, and you knew exactly what he was going to do. 

It was less than 5 minutes when it was confirmed that Lieutenant Bradshaw’s plane had been shot down after attacking an enemy plane. His beacon went dark. 

Lieutenant Seresin requested clearance for take off but was rebuffed by the Air Boss. You had to take everything in you to not shed a tear.

A thick silence fell over the entire ship. The mission was technically a success but you wouldn’t be able to tell based on the solemn look on everyone’s faces. 

Even after the remaining daggers returned on the ship, no one wanted to leave the control room. The entire ship was at a standstill. 

That was until a beacon marked “Rooster” started beeping on the screen. 

No it couldn’t be.

“Sir, Rooster has gone supersonic.” You told Admiral Simpson with a gulp, trying to contain your hope. 

“An F-14 tomcat has been spotted sir.” Another ATC announced. 

“Maverick.” You heard someone say, not sure who but you did not care at that point. What’s important is that they were alive!

But it was not time to celebrate just yet. Two bogies were spotted alongside the F-14 Tomcat. And everyone knew this meant a dogfight was about to commence. 

The situation looked more and more grim. An ancient F-14 against Fifth Gens? It was unlikely for the two pilots to make it out unscathed yet alone alive.

But by some grace of God (or possibly Maverick’s unbeatable skill, probably both) they managed to take down two bogies. 

Rooster managed to turn on the plane’s radio to contact the ship. You felt relief which was instantly thwarted by the news that there was still one Fifth Gen, directly in front of the plane. 

You knew they needed help. You looked at Admiral Simpson desperately, hoping that he would allow the Reserve Dagger to go assist. But Cyclone seemed frozen and you knew you had to take matters into your own hands.

“Dagger Reserve, are you ready for liftoff?” You spoke into the mic, the other people in the control room looked at you in shock.

“Finally!” The elated voice of Hangman came through the comms.

Admiral Simpson shot you a hard glare, if only looks could kill, you’d probably be as screwed as Maverick and Rooster. But you knew you had to do something. 

“Yes this is Dagger Reserve asking clearance for takeoff.” 

“Dagger Reserve, you are clear for takeoff. Bring our boys home.” You said with a small smile, if you get fired and discharged, possibly thrown into the ocean it’ll be worth it knowing what you did to save the aviators.

Hangman shot down the Fifth Gen with ease, earning him his second confirmed air combat kill. You knew that the other pilots would never hear the end of it. But all you cared about is he saved HIM.

Rooster’s laugh and banter with Hangman might’ve been the most wonderful sound you’ve ever heard. 

Seeing him on the tarmac reunited with the rest of his team had to be one of the highlights of your career with the Navy, if this was the last moment you had in the branch then you were perfectly content. 

“What you did was reckless insubordination! If there was another fifth Gen out there, we would’ve lost 3 of our best pilots and 2 planes worth millions of dollars!” Admiral Simpson had chastised you. 

“I have half a mind to dishonorably discharge you!” You 're ready to accept your punishment with grace. You were however surprised at his next words 

“But your actions saved 2 of our men.” He added with a gulp.

“You are clear from punishment, but DO NOT make this a habit!”

“Yes sir.” You told him with a steady voice.

“Thank you sir.”

“You are dismissed, go join the rest of the fleet.” He told you.

You ran down to celebrate the returning pilots, but so was everyone else. You could only see a glimpse of Captain Mitchell and Lieutenant Bradshaw past the dozens of bodies approaching to greet them. 

But even from where you were standing you could see the beaming smile and bright eyes of the mustached pilot. And from that exact moment you knew you were a goner. 

———————————————————————-

Next time you heard his voice was a few weeks post mission. Apparently he accepted a post to teach at Top Gun. 

You were decently shocked to learn that the team assembled for the mission decided to stay in Miramar. Especially since they basically got their pick of post anywhere in the world. 

But you figured Lieutenant Bradshaw, or rather Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw (remembering his promotion), decided to stay because of his recent reconciliation with Captain Mitchell. 

“This is Rooster asking for clearance for takeoff.” He said through the comms.

“You’re still here?” Shit. You did not mean to say that out loud. 

You heard back a chuckle from the pilot.

“Yes, I decided to stick around Fightertown for a little while.”

“Sorry sir.” You replied grateful that he couldn’t see the blush that was forming on your cheeks. 

“You are clear for takeoff.”

“Thanks sweetheart. Roger that.” You felt your cheeks grow hotter as he took off into the air. 

“ATC you still there?” He asked you once he was at cruising altitude. 

“Yes Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, I am still here.” Hoping that he forgot your earlier words and needed something official. 

“Any reason why you were shocked at my staying?” He asked you.

You gulped at his question. Was this allowed? You’ve never had a pilot ask you a question before that didn’t pertain to instructions, both on the ground and in the air. 

After a breath you answered his question.

“I heard about your promotion, and the offer to be posted anywhere in the world. Just surprised you chose to stay here.”

“Sometimes a family is worth more than any accolade or prestigious post.” He told you. You could tell he really cared about Maverick, but was not sure about the history of that. 

Would asking him be crossing a line?

“Why do you stay in fightertown?” He asks you.

“Not for anything as noble as your reason Lieutenant Commander, just an assigned post.” 

“Well I hope you’re liking Miramar. Actually grew up here.” You were surprised that he was still speaking to you, considering he was in the sky for a reason, and normally pilots didn’t maintain this much conversation with Air Traffic Control.

“I really like it so far, having some trouble with making friends though.” You don’t know why you admitted this to him, especially through comms that other people are definitely listening in to. And especially to a Naval hero who definitely would have no interest in the life of a lowly ATC. 

“Well, consider me your first friend sweetheart.” He responded and he actually sounded genuine. You couldn’t help but smile at the aviator's words.

You were about to respond when you were interrupted by Hangman through the comms. 

“Usually I would encourage this, but you can flirt later, Rooster, we gotta shoot down Mav.”

Your little bubble had been burst as you remembered why you had to clear him for takeoff earlier.

“That’s my cue, talk to you later, friend.”

“Have a good exercise Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw.” You respond with a smile you know he’d never see. 

Your shift ended before they finished their exercise, so you didn’t get to give Rooster clearance to land (or maybe you just hoped to speak to him again). But from what you heard, it was the closest the team got to finally shooting down the infamous Captain. 

You knew that one day they could surpass the pilot, but you were glad that they were able to learn and grow (and stay) a little longer at Top Gun.

In an effort to make more friends you agreed to go out with some of your fellow ATCs that night. Which is how you ended up in a bar on the beach called ‘the Hard Deck’.

Your co-workers were nice enough, and you were honestly glad that you weren’t spending another night with a plate of pad Thai watching yet another crappy Netflix rom-com. 

Imagine your surprise when Rooster and his crew of pilots walked into the very same bar. They went straight to the pool tables and were currently arguing over who got to play first. 

“God definitely has favorites, because they are so fine.” Your co-worker Laura sighs. 

“I wanna climb Seresin like a tree.” She adds.

“I’m more of a Coyote and Payback kind of gal.” Your other co-worker Sara remarked. 

“But I wouldn’t kick Fanboy or Bob out of bed, they look like they know some tricks.” 

She said as she took another drink of her martini. You agreed with their judgements but couldn’t help but only have eyes for one of the pilots.

“Good choice.” Your other co-worker Lia tells you after following your gaze. 

“Bradshaw definitely takes the cake.” 

You blush upon being caught staring at Rooster. 

All your co-workers nodded in agreement with Lia. 

“He’s not as pretty as Hangman but he’s somehow more fuckable.” Laura comments. 

You couldn’t help but feel possessive as the other women also stared at Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw with hungry eyes. 

But it’s not like you had any right to that feeling, he wasn’t yours, he didn’t even know who you were. 

The conversation moved on to other topics, it could’ve been anything from the weather or the latest Naval gossip but you were only half paying attention. You were honestly just glad that they were done ogling a certain pilot. 

You really liked the Hard Deck. It was now clear that it was a Navy spot and it was really cool to see the usually serious people from work loosened up in civilian clothes. 

The night was bustling and while you were glad for some company, you couldn’t help but feel a little awkward. All these women knew each other and had all these little jokes with one another, and you were an outsider that had a bit of a neurotic streak.

You were wondering if this was a pity invite, and you were slowly leaning to a yes but you were already here, might as well make the best of it.

You prepared yourself to jump back into the conversation, when the music from the jukebox had abruptly stopped. And while the men booed, you saw that the women all stopped and stared at the piano. Or rather the person at the piano. 

Lo and behold, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw was seated at the decades old instrument, his fingers expertly playing an old Elton John hit. Of course he would have an affinity for the 80s, as shown by his mustache.

If you thought his speaking voice was beautiful, his singing voice was downright heavenly. He had this low tenor that was so strong and made “I’m still standing” sound sensual. How is that even possible?

Obviously you weren’t the only person that thought so, you saw women dancing in front of him, singing along and obviously trying to get his attention. 

For the other women (and some men) that weren’t, were singing along and staring, were all bewitched at the pilot’s skill. And really, who could blame them?

He had this air of confidence that even the cockiest of pilots could never compete with, he was a superstar. In the air and the ground. 

When he (sadly) finished his song, the entire bar cheered and chanted his name. He did a silly dance and seemed to have no care in the world.

You couldn’t help but fall for him a little more. 

——-——————————————————————

“This is Rooster, in the air calling for Air Traffic Control.”

You just started your shift less than 2 minutes ago and did not know that Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw was already in the air.

“This is Air Traffic Control, what do you need, Lieutenant Commander?” You ansered, trying to keep your voice calm, hoping your little crush on the aviator wouldn’t show in your voice. 

“It’s you!” Rooster exclaimed.

“I’m not sure what you mean sir?”

“You’re the ATC from the other day? The one that agreed to be my friend.”

A blush crept onto your face, you were surprised he remembered your interaction. 

“Um yes sir.” 

“You got off the comm lines so quickly the other day. I didn’t get to invite you to hang out with me and meet some other new friends at the Hard Deck.” 

Your heart grew warm. He was serious? He wasn’t just trying to be polite?

“I was at the Hard Deck sir. Saw you there with your squadron.”

“Oh shit, really? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Seemed rude to just insert myself, sir.”

“Plus you seemed preoccupied with your adoring fans.” You said with a giggle. 

“It was an amazing performance.”

“Oh yeah? Are you a fan?” You heard him ask, already seeing his smirk in your mind. 

“Oh yeah definitely! Consider me the president of the fan club sir.” You quipped. 

“So what does the role of “president” entail?” 

“You know, make t-shirts, teach the Rooster 101 class, and of course host the weekly meeting where we talk about how hot and talented Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw is.”

“So you think I’m hot?”

Your face grew warm in response, and cursed yourself for accidentally flirting nonsensically. And prayed to whatever higher power that no one was currently listening to the comm line. 

“Oh um-.” You began to respond.

“No! Sir-…um I just…”

“You know it’s frowned upon to lie to your superiors.” He said in a serious tone.

“Oh no I’m so sorry sir, I didn’t mean to-“

“ATC….”He interrupts, with an inflection at the end of the last letter 

“Yes I think you’re hot Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw” You confessed with a gulp.

He let out a hearty chuckle.

You were completely mortified and you don’t think your face has ever been this hot before. If you thought you didn’t have a chance before, more so now. You were debating whether you should disconnect now and go back to your job (I mean this is technically your job, but not the flirting part). 

You were broken out of your inner debate by Rooster

“Thanks sweetheart.”

“You know you don’t have to keep calling me Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw right?”

“You can call me Rooster.”

You were thankful for the subject change. 

“Okay Lieutenant Comma-“

“Sorry, okay….Rooster.”

“Now that’s better.” He said with a slight laugh, you could already see his dazzling smile now.

“How about you ATC? What should I call you?”

“Oh you can call me-“ you began to say.

“This is Lieutenant Finch asking for clearance for takeoff.” You were cut off by the comm.

You sighed, back to real life. 

“I’m sorry Rooster, I got to go back to duty.”

You cut off the comm lines before he could respond.

————————————————————————

Next time you saw him, he was walking down a hallway with Lieutenant Commander Trace by his side. He was talking so animatedly, his hands waving around as he delivered his point.

It sounded like he was gushing about a tail spin maneuver that Maverick pulled off, and god he’s so beautiful. When he speaks it’s like you couldn’t help but listen. Hell! you bet a reading of the F-18 NATOPS would sound like absolute sin coming from his mouth. 

You were so caught up in his voice that you didn’t notice how close you were to passing him.

You felt your breath get caught in your throat as your shoulders brushed against his as you walked in the opposite direction. Even through your thick khakis, you can feel how muscular his shoulders were. Damn this man works out.

“Oops sorry ma’am” he stopped and turned to you. His eyes were concerned that he hurt you from a measly bump. This man could not be real.

“I didn't mean to bump you. And as put together as I seem to be, I am actually a huge klutz and a hazard to pretty girls.” He said with a chuckle and a wink.

You tried to respond to him, but only a squeak managed to leave your mouth. Starstruck that he’s speaking to you for the first time, not through a comm line. 

Wait and he called you pretty! You were now fighting a blush creeping on your cheeks. But to the two aviators it looked like you were not amused 

“Stop bothering her Rooster, she obviously has places to be.” Phoenix chastises him.

“I apologize for my bothersome friend.” She turned to say to you. And all your pathetic shy ass can do is nod.

“See you around! And sorry again!” Rooster says once more as Lieutenant Trace pulls him away and down the hallway. 

———————————-—————————————

Okay, you were not doing this on purpose, well sorta. Sometimes in the midst of your constant daydreaming, your subconscious kinda just takes the reins and dictates your actions. 

Which is how you found yourself coincidentally choosing a work schedule that lined up the most perfectly with Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw’s flying times.

You hoped for another conversation with Rooster, hoping to redeem yourself from your words (or rather lack thereof) during the hallway debacle.

 But the Lieutenant Commander seemed very focused on the exercise that they’ve been working on for the past week and has not been speaking to you as much as of late.

You were of course sad, and you felt a pit in your stomach grow larger and larger each passing day that your conversations started and ended with “you’re cleared for takeoff”.

You almost wish that your stupid infatuation would go away so that you didn’t feel yourself crushed at the end of every single work day. 

But you would catch a glimpse of his smile on the tarmac and your heart would fill with so much longing once again. 

It had been almost a week since your last true interaction with the aviator, you were beyond pathetic at this point. 

At last, he finally called in after he was in the sky. 

“Is the president of my fan club there?” He called into the comms. 

Was he talking about you? I mean who else would he be talking about considering the topic of your conversation last time. 

Unless he talks to all the ATCs like this, flirting with them until they become flustered and red as a tomato. He’s probably done this with Sara, or Laura or even both! The thought filled your stomach with dread. Should you stay silent and pretend you didn’t hear him? Or maybe he actually needs something, it would be unprofessional of you to not help your superior or maybe-

“I know you’re there, I can hear you thinking”  

Rooster has a habit of breaking you out of your anxiety induced thoughts.

“Are you calling for me Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw?”

You heard him clear his throat, expectant.

“Oh I’m sorry, Rooster.” You corrected yourself.

“That’s better” He said with a chuckle. 

“Sorry I’ve been radio silent the past week sweetheart, have had a lot on my mind.” 

“You don’t have to apologize to me! You’re one of the greatest pilots in the world, no need to worry about me.” You assured him, and maybe you were a bit self-deprecating but it was true. 

“No need for all of that ATC, I’m just a guy in a plane. And were friends, remember?  It’s not fair of me to leave you in the dark.” 

Damn. AND he's humble? How can this man be anymore perfect?

“ Thank you Rooster.” You replied with a small smile.

“Sorry again for going ghost, this is a bit of a hard week for me” He continued.

In any normal circumstance, asking for elaboration would seem like prying, but your conversations with the Lieutenant commander have been less than normal as of late. You still had no clue where you got the courage to ask.

“Oh, why is that?”

“Wanna know all my secrets already sweetheart?” 

He somehow managed to avoid the question AND make you flustered. He’s good.

“How about I let you know my stories over dinner?”

You just felt your heart jump out of your chest and into another dimension. There’s no way THE Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw was asking you out. 

This had to be some kind of game, one that he’s no doubt played a million times before. Rooster had no shortage of women who wanted him and the fact that he’s asking you out of all people was unbelievable. There was no way. 

“Um like a date?” You ask him nervously.

He chuckles at your response, amused at your edginess. But to you it sounded like the thunderclap before the lightning strike of rejection. 

You just wished he’d get on with it. Hoping he lets you down easy so you can move on from this crush and actually do your job.

“What else would I mean?” He finally responded.

Your entire body felt like a cracked glow stick. You felt bright and overheated, but also cold as ice as you’ve somehow lost feeling in your extremities.

So he was asking you out! You were determined to apologize for every time you’ve said God’s name in vain because if Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw was asking you on a date, then there is no doubt that the higher power was real. 

But the reality of the situation had set in. If he was this quick to ask you out despite not knowing your name, or what you look like. What’s stopping him from changing his mind and moving on to the next ATC or bartender or crossing guard who gave him admiring attention just as quickly?

You came to a swift realization.

It was against your nature and your better judgment, as your heart was beating out the seams to say yes to Rooster’s invitation. But you had to be smart about this.

You had to play the game.

“I’m gonna have to say no sir.”  

You can feel the regret setting in already.

“Wow, I think that’s the first no I’ve gotten in…. That might be the first no I’ve ever gotten.”

Great, now you’ve bruised his ego, you had no idea if this tactic was working for or against you.

“Well, I think dinner might be a little further down the line, that’s if you think you can handle it?” You somehow gathered enough courage to (fake) confidently challenge Rooster.

“Oh is that so?” You can hear the intrigue in his voice through the line. 

“How about a phone number?” He offers amused

“Hmm… maybe THAT  I can agree with.” You responded matching his playful tone.

“In one condition.” 

“Oh yeah? And what is that sweetheart?” 

“Shoot down Maverick in the drill today.”

“Is that it? I can do that, easy.” There was the cockiness the top gun pilots were famous for.

“That’s funny, considering you haven’t been able to do it in the past 3 weeks.” You jested.

“Ouch, first you reject my invitation, and now you insult my skill? Way to kick a man while he’s already down sweetheart.” He grimaced playfully.

“Gotta give you some kind of challenge sir.” You couldn't hold back the giggle forming in your throat. 

“Okay deal, anything to hear that laugh again, outside of these comm lines.” He chuckled.

Oh shit. You completely forgot that you are flirting with Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw though a military operated and very public comm line.

“I was wondering when the two of were going to remember the rest of us can hear EVERYTHING.” You heard the voice of Lieutenant Commander Seresin chortle.

You felt your ears burn red in embarrassment. 

“Getting rejected over comms Bradley? And here I thought you had game.” Captain Mitchell added. Both of them were laughing at their fellow aviator. 

“See what I mean sweetheart? I promise I’m a much better conversationalist when these assholes aren’t around.” Bradley insulted the other two pilots. 

“Don’t listen to him ATC, I’ve known him since he was still in diapers , and I promise you, this is as good as he’s gonna get.” Captain Mitchell remarked to you. 

“Don’t think I’m gonna go easy on him for you either.” He added jokingly. 

“Trust me Captain Mitchell, I’m counting on it.” You replied with equal fervor. Maverick responded with a playful tone.

“Sounds good ma’am, hope I don’t disappoint .”

“I’m going to get into position, You two can join me once Bradley is done with his disastrous flirting.” He added before going radio silent, lifting his jet to prepare for the dogfight. 

“Hypothetically, if I shoot down Mav, do I get your number?” Hangman teased. 

“Walk the walk first, and maybe I’ll consider it.” You quipped, but you knew that the only aviator you’d want to give your number to was Rooster. 

“Good enough for me.” Hangman replied. 

“Watch me beat you Rooster, in the drill and with the girl.” Hangman chuckled playfully before going radio silent, presumably getting into position.

“Double timing me with Hangman sweetheart? Now thats a killing blow.” Rooster smiled, slightly annoyed at your flirtatious exchange with Seresin but happy that it was just the two of you once again. 

“You know how bumptious Lieutenant Commander Seresin can be. I just said it to get rid of him.” You explained. 

“Now for you, I am completely serious. Shoot down Mav and you got yourself a phone number.”

“Yours right?” He asked.

You let out a hearty laugh, one that had caused the other ATC’s currently in the control tower to look at you with concerned expressions. 

“Yes. Mine.”

“You never know, you could very well give me Admiral Bates’ number. I just wanted to make sure.” He replied.

“Plus its always a bonus to hear you laugh.”

This man never seemed to run out of lines. You had to hold yourself back from melting into a puddle in your seat.

“Well lets see what you got then Lieutenant Commander.” Was the last thing you said as he finally went back up to position. 

As much as you wanted to stay tuned into the dogfight like you were a suburban dad cheering on their favorite football team, you did actually have a job to do. 

You were in the middle of analyzing flight patterns and putting together a presentation for your co-workers when you heard the sudden call on your headset.

“Hello, this is air traffic control.”

You were greeted with a loud thunderous cheer. 

“I did it ATC! I shot down Mav.” Rooster howled.

“Is this true Lieutenant Commander Seresin?” You asked Hangman.

“As much as I tried to sabotage him, yes Rooster did somehow managed to shoot down the old-timer.” Hangman confirmed with a groan.

Shit. Now you have to actually give your number to Rooster.

“Soooo ATC, I’m waiting for the magic numbers.” You could already see the victory smirk on his face. 

“Ughhh fine a deal is a deal. But I am not going to give out my private phone number on a monitored line. I’m just gonna have to get it to you another way.”

“Okay fair enough. How are you gonna do that?” Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw queried. 

“Don’t worry about it, just know you’ll get it.”

“Or you know you can just give it to me face to fa-.”

“Goodbye Rooster.” You interrupted and dropped the line before he could continue. 

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

You honestly did not know how you were going to get your number to Rooster. You wouldn’t dare to see him face to face. He’ll take one look at you and know that you were nothing special and he’d lose interest. The only reason he was this enthralled was because you were a mystery to him. 

You could always go back on your deal and tell him you were kidding about the number, but you knew that was an asshole move and you were not the type to break agreements. You had to figure out how to get that number to him without him seeing you. 

At least then you can speak to him and possibly flirt with him for a little longer before he inevitably loses interest..

You were sat in the comm tower, your head resting on the back of your hand, watching Rooster joke around with Mav and Hangman down in the tarmac beside their F-18s. Even from all the way up here you can see how bright his smile was. He was so beautiful. 

You were snapped out of your admiration by the three aviators walking off the tarmac, probably to rest and sit with the other pilots in the hangar. You saw your window of opportunity, in the form of (no pun intended) Rooster’s open canopy on his jet. 

If you could sneak down there and place a piece of paper with your number on his dash then you would have fulfilled your side of the deal. 

If anyone were to ask, you were not a stalker, you were just very observant, especially if you’ve been watching these pilots for the better part of the last few weeks and knew that they were going to spend at least the next 15 minutes in the hangar until they returned to the tarmac. You had to make your move NOW.

You scribbled your number onto a piece of discarded paper.

“I’m taking a 10!” You announced to the control room before running out clutching the note to your chest. 

You quickly ran down from the tower and quickly onto the tarmac, making sure to duck and turn your head away as you passed the hangar (just in case). 

You couldn’t remember the last time you ran this fast, probably not since basic training. You quickly manuevered around all the F-18s until you reached the one marked with the label LCDR Bradley Bradshaw “Rooster”. You’ve never seen his jet this up close, you wanted desperately to run your hand through the marking of his name, to touch something that he has. 

No. You have to remember you’re here on a time-constrained mission, and you had to get out of here not only  before the pilots come out, but also before anyone in the comm tower can spot you down here. 

You quickly flung yourself up the ladder up to cockpit of the jet and trying to place the piece of paper as rapidly and as gently as you could on the dash. When you finally let go of the paper and saw that it was securely in place, you hopped off the tiny ass ladder and started to speed walk back to the direction of the comm tower. 

Your heart was beating a million times per minute and you did it without anyone seeing you. You could see the door to the tower in the distance, and were beelining towards it. That’s until you heard a clear 

“HEY!” Coming from behind you. 

You turned around and were greeted by the suspect face of Lieutenant Commander Seresin. He was standing probably a good 25 feet away and slowly walking towards you.

“Who are you? What are doing down here?” 

You had to think of an excuse fast, with as little words spoken as possible. You couldn’t risk him recognizing your voice and telling Rooster. Then all of this would be over too soon. 

“Just routine inspection!” You tell him, making your voice higher and hopefully indiscernible from your normal speaking voice. 

“Goodbye!” You waved at him before sprinting away and around the tower so he couldn’t see that you were going into the comm room. 

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

As much as you'd like to think that you successfully made it down and back from the tarmac completely undetected, you knew that running into Hangman could’ve ended disastrously. You needed to learn to be more careful especially now that your number could possibly already be in Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw’s possession. Which means you have to commit to this game. 

You put your number in his plane almost 11 hours ago and even though the work day has long ended, and you knew that the pilots leave together at around 5pm and would inevitably end up at the Hard Deck for a few hours. 

However it is now nearing 11pm and you still had no notification from anyone other than your mom. No texts, no calls, just email alerts and a few instagram DMs from some old high school friends. 

You sighed as you stared at the clock. Maybe he didn’t see the paper? Or he’s still at the Hard Deck?

You knew neither was unlikely because the dagger squad flew out and ran a few more drills later in the day so was in his jet and all the Navy men (or rather the disciplined ones) promptly left the bar at 10pm to prepare for their early work days. 

He could’ve and should’ve contacted you by now.

But what did you really expect? That he was going to drop everything and call a random ATC that he had a few indecorous conversations with. 

You definitely let this fake confidence build up too much in your head. You had to remember your place. Because who are you other than just a girl, when he was one of the superstar’s of the Navy? The frontliner and the apple of all the admirals’ eyes. 

You see the clock flashing 11:15pm and you had a shift early in the morning. There was no use continuing to feel sorry for yourself. Some sleep would do you some good, and hopefully avoid the waterworks that would inevitably come.

You were well on your way to slipping into a deep slumber when you heard the loud text tone originating from your phone. 

Unknown Number: Sorry I didn’t get to talk to you today sweetheart. I hope I get the chance soon. Sweet dreams :) 

——————-————————————————————————

There must have been some sickness barreling through the base because the normally filled comm room was empty except for you manning the main desk. 

Being solo wasn’t too bad, as there weren’t too many pilots scheduled to fly today.

Of course one of them being Rooster. 

“Miramar Tower, F/A-18E Super Hornet , 10 southwest at 2,500, inbound for landing “ 

Speak of the devil, and he shall come

“F/A-18E Super Hornet , Miramar Tower, report entering left downwind Runway 24R.” You responded, keeping yourself professional despite feeling the butterflies in your stomach beating your ass upon hearing his voice.

“Report entering left downwind, F/A-18E Super Hornet . . . . “ He responded before adding

“F/A-18E Super Hornet entering left downwind Runway 24R.”

He was all business today, with absolutely no hint of the usual playfulness in his voice. 

“Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, you are cleared to land Runway 24R.”

He let out a slight growl, one you would miss if you weren’t listening so intently.

He hesitated for a moment before finally responding. 

“Cleared to land Runway 24R, F/A-18E Super Hornet “ 

You saw his jet successfully land and reached for the button to disconnect when you heard Rooster’s voice flood your headphones once again.

“Do you remember what I said about calling me ‘Lieutenant Commander’ sweetheart?” He asks steely.

Fuck, he sounds so sexy when he’s stern. No man’s voice has ever had this effect on you. 

“Yes sir, Rooster.” You said with a longing breath.

You curse yourself for being incapable of being subtle.

“Normally I would say no ‘sir’ just ‘Rooster’, but I’ll allow it. Only because it sounds so good coming from your mouth.”

Holy shit. And you thought you weren’t subtle, you were usually clueless when it came to men flirting but even you could read that loud and clear. 

“You sure you want to be hitting on me over comms SIR?” you said purring 

“Would you rather me come up there sweetheart? So I can do it face-to-face” He said with the same gruffness. You can see him glancing up to the tower as he lifted his canopy and exited his plane.

“I dare you Lieutenant Commander.” You replied matching his salacious tone. 

“Gonna have to teach you a lesson don’t I?.” The connection cuts off as he removes his helmet and rushes up to the tower. 

You couldn’t hear anything over the sound of your pounding heartbeat, there is no way you just invited Rooster up to the comm room. 

It couldn’t have been more than 2 minutes when you heard the door burst open and saw Rooster enter, his skin still glistening from sweating under the California sun. 

He looked like a Greek god, and you had to stop your jaw from physically dropping at the sight of him. 

“Finally done hiding from me sweetheart?” He greeted you teasingly. 

You slowly approached one another. You opened your mouth to respond with a flirty response but the words seemed to be stuck in your throat. 

You didn’t even notice how close you were to him. You could feel the heat radiating off his body. You were staring straight ahead and avoiding his gaze. Choosing to maintain eye contact with the lowered zipper of his flight suit. Giving you a glimpse of the hard planes of his chest underneath. 

Your breath hitched as you felt him grab you by the waist and pull you bodies together. His hands felt so hot on your body and you still couldn’t bring yourself to look up into his gaze.

That is until he placed a hand on your chin and gently pulled it up to look into your eyes. 

“Don’t tell me you’re all shy now sweetheart?” He said with a smirk and he tugged your bodies closer. 

“Where’s all that talk from earlier?” He whispered as he kissed the skin beneath your ear, before moving his lips to your jaw and leaving soft caressing kisses trailing down your jaw, down to where your neck meets your collarbone

Okay, you have definitely lost the ability to breathe, let alone to speak several moments ago. If he wasn’t currently holding you so tightly your legs would’ve given out from under you.

All you could feel was him and all your mind can think of is Rooster. Rooster. Rooster. 

He finally brought his head back up and stared at your lips. He licked his before he finally closed the distance between you and-

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

You woke up in your bed in a cold sweat. 

Holy shit, it was just a dream. It felt so real. 

You could’ve sworn you could still feel his hand gripping on your waist and his hot breath on your ear. 

You glanced at your alarm clock to see that you overslept by 30 minutes! 

You quickly got up and got ready, you swear to God you had never gotten ready faster in your life. But you still managed to be 15 minutes late. 

Your supervisor was not happy. But you were normally punctual so they allowed you this one oversight. As long as you swore to never repeat it again. 

You finally caught your breath and settled in your station. You were relieved that you didn’t miss too much. 

But since you were late Rooster was assigned to a different ATC on his flight plan for the day. 

This did make you sad but in a way maybe it was necessary for today. 

First because you could not possibly hold a conversation with him after the erotic dream that you still hadn't physically recovered from, and second because you were actually becoming pathetic.

You had set 4 simple rules for yourself when you joined the Navy

Stay Focused

Always be punctual

Sleep early to be well rested, and most importantly

Do not get involved with Navy men. 

You somehow managed to break all rules in the last few weeks. 

You had a wet dream that caused you to break your perfect punctuality streak. A dream that was about a certain pilot that caused you to stay up late and has spent the better part of a month distracting you.

For the lack of better phrasing, you really needed to get your shit together.

But when you stepped into the mess hall after a fairly productive half of a day, and saw his face, you remembered just why you were so enamored. 

A smile from him was worth breaking the rules you set for yourself. 

——————————————————————————————-

You were probably home for less than 10 minutes when you heard the text notification coming from the living room.

You wiped your hands on a dish rag and walked out of the kitchen to grab your phone, which you almost dropped upon seeing who the text came from. 

The text last night was completely unexpected and was definitely part of the reason why Rooster somehow made it into your dream. And even though you were half asleep at the time, you managed to save his number under “Rooster ✈️🐔”. 

Which is how you knew you were staring at a text from said aviator. 

Rooster ✈️🐔: Missed you today :(

You have been carefully analyzing the text for the last 30 seconds you laid eyes on it. He missed you??? What does that mean? He had your number for the better part of two days and he only managed to contact you when you were almost asleep, and after a day of ignoring him. 

Asking him what he meant would be too obvious and would make you come out as naïve. So you did what any rational woman with a crush would do. Deflect.

You: Do you have a problem with emojis or something?

Rooster ✈️🐔: Huh? What do you mean? 

You: I can’t remember the last time I saw someone use emoticons unironically. 

Rooster ✈️🐔: Are you making fun of me? I personally think emoticons are neat

Rooster ✈️🐔: And I don’t know how to download emojis :/

You felt like a schoolgirl as you felt your face break into a grin at his antics. 

You were formulating a reply when you were interrupted by the screen indicating an incoming call from Rooster ✈️🐔.

You stared at your phone in panic and let it continue to ring. Holy shit he was calling you. At least in text you can formulate a plan and have a carefully crafted response. You did not have that luxury with a voice call. 

But what are you going to do? Ignore it? 

You had to make a decision fast. Okay yes, it will be a little more nerve wracking to speak on a voice call but that's better than nothing right? And you spoke to him all the time over comms, even though technically it is different because those conversations can be hidden under the guise of carrying out your job and you did not have that safety net in this situation.

After a few seconds you thought “Fuck it” and pressed the green button. 

“Hi” You answered with a breath. 

“Oh thank god, you actually answered” He responded, teasing relief in his voice.

“What? You thought I wouldn’t?” You asked him as if it was the most outlandish thing in the world (even you were seriously debating it less than a minute ago). 

“Well lets look at the track record, you rejected my dinner invite, doubted my skill as a world class pilot, left me on read last night, and just made fun of my emoticons.”

“The signs were all pointing there.” 

You bursted out in laughter at his rantings.

“Wow! And now you’re laughing at my misery, a man just can’t win with you can they sweetheart?” He feigned hurt. 

“I’m sorry Lieutenant Commander, I didn’t realize it was so easy to hurt your feelings.” You teased him. 

“AND were back to Lieutenant Commander? You do not pull your punches, do you?”

“I’d like to think we’re past all those formalities, outside of work please call me Rooster, or rather yet, call me Bradley.” He asserted. 

“Sometimes I forget your full god given name is Bradley Bradshaw. Brad Brad. I’m making that your name on my phone” You continued to tease with a giggle.

“Did your parents know what they were subjecting you to?” 

“Ha Ha very funny, unfortunately they were the main ones who made the Brad Brad joke.” He admitted dejected. 

This caused you to laugh again.

“Hey this is not fair! I don’t even know your name to make fun of.” You could practically hear the pout in his voice.

“You know I’m gonna find out your name eventually sweetheart, so why don’t you just give it up now?”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

You wanted to finally tell him your name, you did. But that just opens a can of worms that would lead to reality, which you were not yet ready to face.

“I can’t call you ATC forever sweetheart..”

“Well.. what do you want to call me?” 

“Preferably your name?” He suggested.

“You only get one chance to choose so try again.” You warned. 

“And make it good”

“Okay fine I’ll bite.” He finally gave in.

“Lets see, what to call you….”

“Well you laugh a lot, and most of the time at me, so I think I want to use something related to that.”

“It’s not my fault you’re so easy to make fun of.” You quipped.

“Fair enough. Just know I only let you because I actually like the sound of your laugh.”

You felt the blush creep onto your cheeks again.

“Clock is ticking, and you’re wasting your time flirting. What is it gonna be?” You goaded him.

“Okay Okay, but don’t think I won’t continue later.”

“I have no doubt about it” 

“So something pertaining laughing…hmmm. Giggles?” 

“If you call me Giggles, I’m hanging up and blocking you.” You threaten him. 

He responded with his own laugh, and god if you didn’t love his as much as he claimed to like yours.

“Chuckles?”

“I prefered Giggles.” You grimaced

“Merry?” 

“Too Christmas-y”

“Chirpy?”

“That sounds like a name for a bird or something you’d call your grandma. How are you so bad at this?”

“I’m trying!”

“Try to pick something better than all of those please, and do it in the next 30 seconds or I revoke your naming permissions.”

“Fine…Okay! I got it!”

“Cloud!” 

“Cloud?” You asked

“Yes! Like flying on Cloud 9!”

His selection brought a smile to your face. You pretended to think on it.

“It’s acceptable.”

“Yes!” 

“See? I’m not completely useless, and it fits because I’m flying on Cloud 9 whenever I know you’re my ATC.”

His admission caused your breath to catch in your throat. He really did know how to make a girl feel special, even though you knew you had no actual chance with him in the real world.

“I bet you say that to all the ATCs.”

“Well they are responsible for making sure that I don’t crash into other planes on the runway. Gotta keep them happy somehow”

You laugh at his joke, but holding some sadness because even though he was joking, in a way it felt like it held some truth. 

“But seriously, you have no idea how much joy you brought me yesterday. Both with our conversation and seeing that you actually gave me your number. Which is why I was really sad that you weren’t my ATC today.” 

He sounded sincere, but you tried to keep yourself from taking his lines to heart. 

You smiled. 

“Speaking of your number, how the hell did you get that piece of paper into my dash?”

“There was no one else I saw near my jet except my squad and they were with me the entire time. When did you manage to do it?”

“A girl doesn’t reveal her secrets Rooster.” You jested

“Speaking of secrets, pray tell why it took you over twelve hours to use it?” You asked him, you had to know.

“Yeah, sorry about that late text sweetheart… I stayed out at the Hard Deck with Mav a little later than usual. It was my dad’s death anniversary and I honestly spent most of the day sulking and dreading leaving my apartment.”

“Oh.. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” You responded sympathetically, now feeling guilty at asking such an intrusive question. 

“No worries sweetheart, the minute I heard your voice on comms, it brightened my day, even more so when you gave me your number.”

“So thank you for the boost and the motivation to finally kick Mav’s ass in the sky.”

Your heart felt warm hearing that you had that effect on him, you woul’ve believed his words if you didn’t know better.

“You’re welcome Bradley.” You finally called him by his real first name, admittedly it felt right coming from your mouth.

You both sat in comfortable silence when you were interrupted by the smoke alarm in your kitchen. It hit you that your dinner was left on the stove forgetten during your conversation with Bradley.

“Oh shit, I’m pretty sure I just burnt my dinner. I gotta go before I set my entire apartment on fire.”

Bradley chuckled at your unintentional lapse of memory.

“Okay sweetheart I’ll talk to you soon.”

You ended the call. 

You managed to clear out the smoke out of your apartment, but unfortunately did not save your chicken. 

You had to settle for a frozen hot pocket that had been in your freezer for God know how long, but hey it did the job and beggars can’t be choosers. 

You felt the tiredness from the busy workday hit you and you decided it was a good idea to turn in early. You showered and finished your nighttime routine and settled into your bed with your phone on your nightstand.

Your phone flashed once again to signal a text. Apparently, Rooster had the same idea about an early night. 

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: Goodnight Cloud <3 I’ll talk to you tomorrow

You: Goodnight Bradley :)

——————————————————————————————-

You were honestly pleasantly surprised at how consistently you and Bradley communicated. 

It followed the same schedule. During the days, you were usually his ATC so he would of course flirt with you over comms, and you’d try to maintain come decorum of professionalism, but would eventually flirt black. Persistence is key and Bradley is nothing if not persistent. 

When he wasn’t in the air during work hours he would sneakily text you his little random thoughts he had during the day. 

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: Have you ever noticed how small Hangman’s mouth is?

You: What?

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: No seriously look at it. His mouth is always scrunched up even when he smiles.

You: Why are you staring at Hangman’s mouth?

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: We’ve been stuck in this meeting and he keeps chewing that stupid toothpick, its distracting.

You: Didn’t realize you had a thing for Seresin, Brad Brad? 🤔

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: ???????

You: You just said his mouth is distracting

You: Its okay Rooster, just say you wanna kiss him, the tension between you is so thick you can cut it with a knife.

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: I don’t want to kiss Hangman >:( 

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: You wanna know who I do wanna kiss though? 

You: Let me guess…..

You: Bob! 

You: Or better yet, Cyclone 🤪

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: No :(((

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: I wanna kiss you

You: Let’s Play 8 Ball!

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: Ha ha you’re hilarious

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: If I beat you then can I get a kiss?

Read 2:13pm

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: Ouch :(

On weekday nights where he didn’t go to the Hard Deck, you would have your nightly phone call at 7:30pm sharp where you would both stay on the phone while you both cooked dinner. You would catch up on the little things during the day that you didn’t text about and just mostly got to know one another.

You can admit that yes, what initially drew you to Rooster was his beautiful smile and his skill as a pilot. But the more you spoke to him the more you saw not just Lieutenant Commander “Rooster” Bradshaw. But you also saw Bradley.

You quickly saw that he was kind, humble, and so caring of others. 

“Hey Cloud,  I’m sorry for calling you so late.” You noticed his tone was more solemn than usual and checked the time, it was nearing 8pm.

“It’s fine Bradley, you’re not that late.”

“What’s wrong?” You asked him.

“Payback and Fanboy flew into a jetwash today….”

“They had to eject.” He answered dejectedly

“I heard about that. Are they okay?”

 Laura told you about the incident a little earlier, she was the ATC for the flight. The ear-splitting static that hit her headset after the aircraft collided with the ground was enough to shake even the most experienced ATC. So you couldn’t imagine being the pilot and the WSO in that situation. 

“They’re at the hospital overnight for observation. I stuck around to make sure they were okay.” 

It was very strange for you to hear Rooster so despondent. You knew he cared about his friends, and he would do anything for them, but it felt like there was more to the situation. 

“You’re very thoughtful for that Bradley.. I’m sure they appreciated it”

“It was my fault, Cloud.” he confessed. 

You were taken aback at his admittance, but you would’ve heard if there was someone that was directly responsible for the accident, it involved aircraft worth millions of dollars after all. 

“They flew into my jetwash.” 

“Bradley, that wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t have controlled their flight path.” You tried to reassure him.

“But I shouldn’t have been so reckless!” He exclaimed. 

“If I wasn’t so busy trying to outdo Coyote, I wouldn’t have almost hit a bird strike and had to slow down, and they wouldn't have gotten caught in the wash.”

You didn’t want to tell him he was being irrational for blaming himself for a situation that was clearly out of his hands, you knew there was something more there. 

“But they’re fine right? Everyone is okay. No one was seriously hurt.” You explained to him.

“Yeah no one got hurt….THIS time.” 

His statement piqued your interest, you were getting somewhere.

“What do you mean?” 

He sighed, finally letting go of the pretenses. 

“That’s how my dad died.” He confessed.

In a way you knew about LTJG Nick Bradshaw and his untimely death during his Top Gun training, but none of the sordid details. It felt disrespectful to dig into Rooster’s family without him knowing. 

“Oh..” You couldn’t think of what to say. 

“He and Mav flew into a jetwash and when they ejected…my dad hit his head on the canopy. Dead on impact.”

You kicked yourself for thinking he was being irrational. Now all his self blame and his aversion to throwing caution to the wind while flying finally made sense. It also made his relationship with Maverick a lot clearer to you. 

On one hand, you were thrilled that he was confiding in you. But on the other hand you were also heartbroken for Bradley, he lost his dad so young and as much as you wanted to hug him, and let him cry on your shoulder, you couldn’t. 

“Were you close?” You settled on asking him. 

“We were, he’s the reason why I worked so hard to be where I am now.” He reminisced. 

“I’m sure he is very proud of you Bradley. You are not only an incredible pilot, you are also an selfless, caring, and incredible man.” You reminded him. 

“He would give all the credit to my mom.” He lightly chuckled. 

“She raised me alone after my dad died.”

“She never remarried?” You asked

“No, she said that dad was her soulmate. She would never find another man like him.”

You can tell how much love Bradley had for his parents, and the love they shared for one another. 

“It sounds like they were really in love.” You smiled 

“They were. My dad would always serenade my mom. He loved the 50s and the 60s so everytime he saw a piano he would wail out ‘Great Balls of Fire’ while my mom would act embarrassed, but she would eventually sit on his lap and sing along.” 

“That’s beautiful Brad, they really were soulmates.”

“I hope I can find a love like theirs someday.” You sighed dreamily. 

“Who knows? Maybe you already have.” He responds softly.

A comfortable silence settled between you for a few moments. 

“Hey Cloud”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for listening.”

“Anytime Bradley.”

You noticed that it was now getting late and exhaustion was starting to take over your body.

Bradley seemed to notice this as well.

“Do you think I can sing to you Cloud? Like my dad used to with my mom?” 

“I would love that Brad.” 

You slowly fell asleep to the sound of his voice singing ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You’.

And like that, there was no denying, that you’re falling even deeper.

——————————————————————————————-

You don’t know how much longer you can keep this up. It has been months since you and Rooster started talking regularly and you couldn’t help falling in love with him a little more everyday. 

The problem is, you knew that his patience was wearing thin, as he was asking you more and more frequently when he can see you face to face or even know your real name.

You knew you owe him all of that, but how could you tell him? When you know in your heart that once he sees you and knows you. He would know you weren’t worth his time. 

That realization kills you because he means everything to you. You’ve shared your hobbies, your stories, your dreams with him. 

How can you go on living without him in your life once you know the feeling of him being there. 

He has planted himself a permanent spot in your heart, and once he’s gone, there will be a gaping hole left in his wake. 

He was being as kind and as patient with you as he could, but you couldn’t blame his growing anxiety about your identity. 

It also didn’t help that you were constantly under the scrutinous eyes of Lieutenant Commander Seresin. After he caught you on the Tarmac, he seemed very suspicious of you. Like he knew you were up to something but just couldn’t put his finger on it. 

Luckily you’ve been able to fly under the radar around him. Yes he could be a little ignorant and too much of a flirt for his own good but he was smart as a whip and you knew that if anyone could figure out what you were doing it would be him. 

You were currently sat with ATCs in the mess hall, on the other side of the room from where the dagger squad has decided to congregate. You were trying to subtly sneak glances at Bradley. 

He looked particularly handsome today, his sandy hair was slicked back and his tanned skin glowing. He even had his signature Ray Ban Caravans on. You normally hate when people wear sunglasses indoors but he made it work without looking like an asshole. And it looks damn good on him. 

You sighed and as you moved your focus away to not arouse suspicion you noticed Hangman look at you with narrowed eyes. You pretended not to notice. 

Your attention was diverted by the vibration of you phone signaling a notification. 

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: Is potato salad supposed to be green?

You smiled when you saw it was a text from Bradley

You: Depends, do you normally eat 2 week old potato salad?

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: Mav said it was okay :(

You: Mav also thinks anything not cooked in a microwave is gourmet.

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: Okay fair, its going into the trash. 

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: You know what is gourmet though? ;)

You: Mav

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: Not funny :(

You tried to hold in your laughter to no avail and it was loud enough for the other ATC s to look at you in confusion. 

“Sorry, just saw a funny meme.” You explained, the ATCs accepted this explanation and went back to their previous activities. 

You looked up again to catch another glimpse at Rooster when you saw Hangman staring at your phone in your hand with wide eyes. Then looked down at Rooster also smiling down at his own phone, and then back at you. 

You could see the wheels in his head turning, and then he made a face that made it clear that he connected the dots. 

Oh shit. You had to get out of here.

You quickly packed up your food and sat up, not bothering to say goodbye to your fellow ATCs. 

You ran out the mess hall and down the hallway but before you could turn the corner a hand pulls you back. 

You are now face to face with Lieutenant Commander Seresin. He looked at you for a few seconds 

“You’re Air Traffic Control right?” he asked you with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yes sir I am.” You said trying to disguise your voice the same as you did on the tarmac. 

“Don’t play games with me honey, I know that’s not your real voice.” You gulped 

He still had a grip on your arm so you couldn’t run even if you wanted to. Curse these Navy men and their workout routines. 

“Tell me your name, and that’s an order.” 

You were sweating under his gaze, you’ve never felt more panicked in your life.

You tell him your name in your real voice. 

He finally released his grip on you and also seemed to drop his serious demeanor. 

“I knew there was something about you! You’re the ATC that old chicken has been flirting with over comms aren’t you??”

You nod looking down at your feet. Damn it, there goes your whole relationship (if you can even call it that) with Rooster, because Hangman is definitely going to rat you out. 

“You see, Rooster was telling the squad that he was in love. And so of course we ask him who she is.” 

“But how surprising was it when he said that not only has he never seen her face to face, he doesn’t even know her name.” 

He was now pacing up and down the hallway. 

“Then I remembered that day where he bet you your number if he shot down Mav, he magically got a piece of paper with a number on his dash seemingly coming from nowhere.” 

“But it wasn’t a magic trick at all, was it?” He asked you rhetorically.

“No sir.”

“Exactly! Because I caught you sneaking off the Tarmac moments before Rooster jumped into his plane and happily announcing that he got your phone number.” 

“I saw your face, so you are both the ATC over comms and the girl he talks to,  the one he says he’s in love with.”

You looked up shocked at his statement.

“He’s in love with me?” 

You looked up from the ground with hopeful eyes. 

“Yes he is.” Hangman tells you matter of factly. 

“You’ve presumably been talking to Rooster for months, but you've yet to meet him in person, let alone even tell him your name.”

“What game are you playing here?” He asks you

“It’s not a game, I do care about Bradley.” You sighed. 

“So then what is it?” 

“Sir, can we not please talk about it here?” 

You anxiously look around and see that people were now in the hallway exiting from the mess hall. And god forbid that Bradley was one of them. 

“Fine.” 

“Meet me at the Hard Deck after work.” 

——————————————————————————————-

 You were seated at the bar in the Hard Deck, your left leg bouncing anxiously.

You checked your watch, 5:47pm. Hangman said to meet him here right after work and you basically sped off the base to get to the bar on time.

You’ve been nursing the same beer for the past almost 30 minutes. You couldn’t focus on anything but the sound of your heart beating in your chest.

What was taking him so long? Did he forget? Did he already tell Bradley?

A million more questions swirled in your head. But you knew that if Hangman didn’t show up you were basically screwed.

Your self pity was interrupted by the booming sound of naval aviators strolling through the entrance, with one of them being Bradley and of course Hangman.

You were simultaneously trying to avoid Rooster’s gaze, while trying to catch Hangman’s attention.

When you finally caught his eye, you gave him a panicked questioning look. He gave you a subtle nod while continuing his conversation with the rest of the squadron. 

The crew made their way to their usual spot in the back with the pool tables. Hangman excused himself from the group nodding towards you.

You kept your eyes on him as he made his way to you. 

“Jimmy, can I get a beer?” Hangman asks the bartender.

“Lieutenant Commander.” You greeted him as he sat on the stool directly beside you.

He returned the greeting by saying your name.

“So let’s just get this out of the way. Did you tell Bradley?” You asked him, feeling a large brick settle in your stomach. 

“You can relax.. I didn’t tell Bradshaw.” He replies

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Relief flooding your body.

“But don’t think that you’re off the hook, you have some explaining to do.” Hangman added.

“What do you want to know sir?” You swallowed nervously.

“First of all, who are you exactly?” 

“I’m no one, I’m just an ATC.” You told him, looking down at your hands.

“Well you’re clearly not ‘no one’ if you’ve caught Rooster’s attention.” He rebutted.

“You’re little avoidance tricks might work on Rooster, but they won’t work on me.”

“And I know all your excuses for not meeting him are complete bs.”

“So why are you hiding from him?”

Now that’s the million dollar question isn’t it? It has been months since you started talking to Bradley, you spoke to him every single day, and fell asleep to the sound of his voice every night. Why were you hiding from him?

“I-.....I don’t know.” You confessed to Hangman. 

“Then whats stopping me from getting up and telling Rooster who you are?” Hangman asked you with a raised eyebrow. 

You stared at him, the words lost in your throat. 

“Nothing then I guess..”  He got up and started his way to the back.

You pulled his arm back similar to how he did to you earlier that day. He looked at you and your hand on his arm. 

“Please don’t…I beg you.” 

He sat back down on his stool giving you a questioning look but gave you the time to get your thoughts together. 

“I never intended for it to go on this long or this far..” You explained. 

“Bradley is so important to me. I knew he was special the first time I ever heard his voice.”

“It was during the uranium plant detachment from a few months ago. I risked my whole damn career to save him.” 

“I released the dagger reserve without Admiral Simpson’s approval.” You continued.

“That was you? You gave me clearance that day?” His eyes finally lost the skepticism and was replaced with admiration. 

“I did, everyone in that control room was completely frozen. I couldn’t just let them die.” 

“But that doesn’t explain this whole situation you have going on with him.” He questioned

“That was the last I expected to ever see of him, but you all decided to stay here in Miramar and I made the mistake of speaking to him a little too long over comms.”

“That’s to be expected honey, Rooster is a big ol flirt.” Hangman chuckled.

“Well not as a big of a flirt as me though.” He winked at you. 

He was trying to ease your worries and you appreciated that from him. Especially since he thought the worst of you less than 10 minutes ago. 

“And of course you and Mav have heard how he got my number over comms and thats currently where we are now.” You finished.

“Okay so thats the backstory, and you clearly care about him and he cares about you.”

“So it still doesn't answer why you haven’t told him who you are.”

“Think about it this way Lieutenant Commander…”

“You, Phoenix, Payback, Coyote, and Rooster. You are some of the most important and most revered people in the Navy short of the Admirals.” 

“You are the first in command, you are the best of the best in the entire world.” 

“What do I? A low level ATC, have to offer Bradley?.”

“I am just me, and he is who he is. I could never be a person whos good enough for him.” 

“But didn’t I just tell you? Bradshaw is in love with you.” Hangman argued. 

You smiled sadly, turning your head to glance at Bradley at the pool tables. His head thrown back in laughter at something Fanboy said. 

“Maybe..he is.” You turned back to Hangman.

“But one look at me and he’ll change his mind.” 

“I don’t understand. Do you think you’re-” Hangman’s response was interrupted by Rooster popping up behind you both. 

“Hangman, I thought you were getting a beer?” 

You suddenly felt lightheaded, the sight of Rooster standing so close to you making your heart beat a million times per minute. 

“Whos your friend?” Rooster asked Hangman while looking at you with a smile. 

You wouldn’t dare open your mouth and speak, risking Bradley recognizing your voice. You stared at Hangman with pleading eyes, hoping he didn’t give you away to Rooster.

Hangman looked at Rooster and back at you, pausing for a moment.

Hangman finally speaks telling Rooster your name. Fuck. You were naïve to think he’d keep your secret.

“We actually just met, she’s getting over a case of laryngitis so her voice is a little hoarse.” Hangman explained. 

You smiled at him, silently thanking him for not revealing your charade. 

“Hi, nice to meet you.” You let out in a hoarse voice, turning to look at Bradley.

He reached out and shook your hand and you can feel your stomach doing backflips for finally getting to touch the man that you’ve spent several months falling in love with. 

“Well I’m sorry to hear that ma’am, I hope you feel better.” Bradley offered politely.

“I’ll leave you and Hangman to your conversation.” He excused himself and returned to the pool table, you stared at him longingly as he walked away. 

Hangman looked at you in amusement. 

“You got it bad, don’t you honey?” Hangman asked with a slight chuckle. 

“That obvious?” You asked him

“Couldn’t be any less subtle if you tried.” 

“Which makes it so funny that Bradshaw had no clue its you.” He chortled. 

“Me personally, if I were him, I would know it was you the minute I saw you.” He added with a smirk,

Leave it to Hangman to be an insatiable flirt.

“Thank you for helping me out.” 

As big of an asshole Hangman can be, he really did have a good heart. 

“Your secret is safe with me honey.” 

——————————————————————————————-

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[mochie85]

Creature Comfort - Chapter 1

Creature Comforts Masterlist Complete Masterlist

Summary: Loki is enamored by you, and you can’t understand why. He tries to get your attention until a disastrous accident occurs pushing you to rely on him. Will his charm finally win you over? Or will you continue to stay in your comfort zone? Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character Word Count: 2631 Warnings: Fluff. Flirtatious Loki. Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

“Excuse me. But that’s my spot.” You cleared your throat. You looked at Loki expectantly. Willing him to move away with just the deep stare of your eyes. You only got up mere seconds ago to use the bathroom. Your Kindle still lying on the armrest where you left it.

Loki just continued to read his book. Even so much as having the audacity to turn the page. “I quite like this spot. I can see why you center yourself here every time you come out.” He said as he crossed his legs. His right ankle over his left knee. Indicating to you that he will not move. Not even with you shooting daggers at his head.

“The seat is relatively close to the window, giving you ample sunlight to read but far enough that you don’t get hot from its rays. The angle makes it so you could see out to the foyer of the elevator and the lab, allowing you to gather who’s around you at all times. And the location itself is reasonably close to the kitchen, allowing you access to sustenance if need be.” Loki proceeded to point out to you. “I don’t know whether to applaud you on the fortunate happenstance that you have found or whether you are as calculating and cunning as I’d like to imagine you are.” He said finally looking up at you with a sly smirk.

You narrowed your eyes and took a deep breath as you snatched your Kindle from the armrest. “Fine. That’s fine.” You settled slightly aggrieved. “I’ll just…sit here instead.” You gritted as you sat down on the opposite end of the couch. Loki looked back down at his book, trying to hide his slight chuckle.

You started your Kindle and glided over the hot leather of the couch. It singed where your skin had made contact with the sun-exposed leather. The sun beat down ferociously on your neck, making you uncomfortable in the heat.  A refreshing glass of iced tea should fix this. But you were already settled on the couch and you would have to maneuver your way through the entire room and past the other furniture to get to the kitchen itself. It might make you sound lazy. Sure, but you’re a creature of comfort. You decided that it wasn’t worth it.

Annoyed, you continued to read on your Kindle. But every time there was a rustle of sound or the bell of the lift, your attention was stolen. It irked you that you couldn’t just look up quickly to see who came in and out of the doorways.  You felt so cut off. So annoyed. So very hot.

You stood up with a growl and gave up. With one final murderous look to Loki, you stomped back into your room.

Seven minutes and fifty-two seconds. She lasted longer than I thought.  He thought to himself as he turned the page.

The next day, you were relieved to find your favorite reading spot available. Looking around, you couldn’t see the trickster in sight. You happily sunk into the cool leather, tucked your feet under yourself, and fired up your Kindle. You were smart to get yourself a drink before you sat down. You happily sipped on the cup savoring the ease and relaxation you sought out yesterday but were denied.

Thinking about it made you huff. “I don’t know whether to applaud you on the fortunate happenstance that you have found or whether you are as calculating and cunning as I’d like to imagine you are.”

Wait.

Does he think about me? A sultry heat traveled throughout your body, making your insides flutter. He couldn’t. Not in that way. He meant it as a passing comment on how clever I could be. Not that he imagines or thinks about me in any way. You rolled your eyes at yourself, chuckling. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t hear Loki shuffle in as he sat next to you on the sofa.

You were taken aback as he proceeded to lie down with his head on your lap. He crossed his legs and started to read his book.

“Excuse me.” You said with a slight bristle. Loki looked up at you with his blue-green eyes, glistening with playfulness. His smile grew from ear to ear.

“You’re my pillow now.” He simply stated. He continued to read his book and you wanted to scrub that devilish smile off that beguiling face of his.

“Your what?!”

“Well, you’re sitting at the prime location for reading. And I can’t very well take it from you, that would be extremely uncouth of me.” A jab, no doubt, at you for trying to reclaim your spot yesterday. “So, you’re my pillow now.” He ended his explanation with a smile and continued with his book.

You stared.

Just stared at him. Unable to process what just happened. Other than yesterday, this was the most contact the two of you ever had. These were the most words the two of you had ever exchanged. You hadn’t even been on a mission together. Now he’s lying on your lap?!

You sucked your lips thin. Fine. I can play this game too. You thought. You took in a deep breath and tried to ignore the enticing smell of his cologne mingling with the warm air and you continued to read your book. 

You must’ve read the same sentence twice - three times before he said something. “You’re not usually this still when you’re reading. Are you not enjoying your book? Would you like to trade?” He offered.

“Um, no,” you said with restraint.

“Just as well. I’m getting to a really interesting part in my story.” He turned the page and continued. Usually? What does he mean ‘usually?’ Does he ‘usually’ watch me while I read?

You were saved from thinking on it further when Sam passed through the door. “Come on you two. Emergency meeting. Steve just got back with Tony. They want a quick get-together.” Sam said as he passed through on his way to the conference room. If Sam noticed the too-familiar state that you and Loki were in, he didn’t reveal it.

A few weeks later, after just coming back from your mission, you decided to unwind. You gathered your Kindle, and a nice cup of tea and headed to your favorite spot on the sofa. It didn’t surprise you to smell that all-too enticing cologne. Then feel his head rest on your thighs as he let out a contented sigh.

“Should I just expect this from you whenever I’m here?” you asked not bothering to look down at him.

“I like using you as my pillow. Does it bother you? Would you like me to use you as something else?” he crooned. Not bothering to look up at you either. You couldn’t help the tingling heat that radiated from the tips of your toes to the strands of your hair. You cleared your throat, trying not to let the statement affect you.

You took a big sigh and gave in. You sat there, reading line after line of your book. You stayed quiet at first, listening to the rustle of his book. The swaying of his foot on the couch. You noted how he had one foot on the couch resting. The other one bent to the floor, supporting himself. It was almost as if he was ready and willing to get off of you the moment you tired of the silly little game that he was playing.

That alone made you relax. You concluded that he was just being playful. Overly flirtatious, sure. But innocent, nonetheless.

You started reading your book. Really reading it. Immersing yourself in the story, in the words. You were reading a key dialogue from the main character when Loki suddenly professed, “You can’t possibly imagine how good that feels.”

You looked down to see his eyes closed in serene enjoyment. A smirk on his pink lips and your fingers running through his soft black hair. His book, resting on his chest, splayed open like it was discarded after you started stroking his head. Both of his feet now crisscrossed on top of the sofa.

You stood up abruptly, mortified at what you had just done. Loki grunted as his head fell onto the couch cushions without your support.

“I have to go.” You stammered.

“Do you really have to though?” He teased. “I was enjoying your hands on me.” You turned beet red as you walked away.

What is going on? Why is he affecting you so much?

You steered clear of the common area after that. Whenever the team was hanging out, you’d find yourself down at the gym instead, training. Or at the lab helping Bruce. You hadn’t picked up your Kindle since then either. The line you had bookmarked reminding you of the moment your fingers glided through his soft hair and felt…excitement?

Horrible embarrassment just engulfed you. You couldn’t shake the feeling. You couldn’t stop his words from running through your head.

‘Would you like me to use you as something else?’

‘I was enjoying your hands on me.’

And every time you would think of him, you could faintly smell a hint of his cologne, making you delve deeper into thoughts of him.

That’s it! He’s just trying to get inside my head! But why?

You spent most of your time training now. You avoided the common room altogether. As you were punching and kicking your way around the sandbag, you continued thinking about all the reasons why the god of mischief suddenly has an interest in you. Each punch, each kick, you offered a reason.

Maybe he wants to annoy me. Maybe it’s a prank. It’s a cruel prank. Maybe he just really likes me. If he really likes me, I’ll probably be just a notch on his belt and nothing more. I’ve seen the way he flirts with people at the parties. The way they all flock to his charm and allure. He could have a pick of any one of them. Maybe…maybe he just wants my spot on the couch.

“I’ve missed you.” Came his smooth voice from behind you. You turned around startled, almost punching him in the face. He caught your fist, inches away from pummeling his nose. You stood there, stunned. He continued to hold your hand, mirth dancing in his eyes.

He caressed your hand gently. “You’re not wearing gloves.” He observed. You tried to jerk your hand back, away from his soft touch. His cool skin. But he held it firmly, unwrapping the bloody bandage that had started to tear and become loose.

When he finally unwrapped your hand, he lifted it up to his lips and softly laid kisses on your wounded knuckles. His cool lips felt curative on your heated skin. His eyes never strayed from yours as he placed a firm kiss on each wound. He did the same for your other hand. Neither of you saying a word.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked out of breath.

“Because you’re hurt. For such a cautious, logical person, you’d think you’d be better prepared.” He answered.

“No. I mean why…” You took a deep breath at his answering smile. He wanted you to say it. He wanted you to confront the issue.

“Why are you always around me, seeking my company.”

“Would you like me to stop?” he asked. Rejection blared inside his heart. There was a long pause before you spoke again.

“Why are you teasing me?” That wasn’t a ‘no,’ he noted.

“Because I like you,” he said plainly. As if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

“No, you don’t,” you countered. Unable to believe that anyone in their right mind would be attracted to you.

You walked away, heading to your water bottle. You needed something in your hands. You needed something on your lips. All too soon, your body was restless. It craved to be touched.

“Very few people ever tell me what I can and can’t do, darling. Even fewer still have the audacity to tell me what I’m feeling.” He started circling you, holding his hands behind his back, like a predator sizing up its next meal.

“I have done nothing to lead you on.” You felt exposed. You felt unnerved as he orbited you. His yearning gaze concentrates on the exposed parts of your skin.

“And that is precisely why I’m attracted to you. From the very beginning, you resisted my charms. You don’t try to grab my attention. You simply exist. Like a star in the night sky, dancing so brightly, showing your light, but letting the moon outshine you. But I see what you really are.”

“And what is that?” you asked skeptically with a raised brow.

“What are all stars really, but a sun,” he said stopping behind you. “So bright and warm. Helping others thrive…” He came closer to you. You could smell his cologne mixing with the warm scent of your own body.

You turned your head slightly to watch him. But like any prey, you kept your body turned towards the exit, ready to run if he tried to pull something.

“You lure me in with the light in your eyes …” Step. “The gravity of your smile …” Step. “The heat of your lips…” Step. Loki whispered the last part so close to your ear, that you shivered down your spine.

He gently ran his finger down your arm, feeling the goosebumps that had formed. You jerked away from his touch, not expecting him. “What do you want. Loki?” You ground your teeth. Shaking your head as if you were put under a spell.

“You vexing woman. I just told you.” He laughed. But his smile was short-lived as he realized something about you. “Is it that you do not trust me? Or that you do not trust yourself?” He asked.

“Do I trust you?” You repeated his question. “In a fight. Absolutely. I trust you with my life.” It’s true. You know he wouldn’t hesitate to save you or protect you. And you would do the same for him.

“But you do not trust me - with your heart,” he finished. Your eyes glistened and burned. You walked away before he could say anymore. You ran like the helpless prey that you were, away from him.

He was mocking you. He had to be. There was no way his feelings were genuine. He was unattainable. A true god indeed compared to your humble origins. There was no way you had fallen for him so quickly. You’ve never even seen him that way until that significant day on the couch when he decided he wanted to sit on your spot.

Weeks went by and you avoided the common room and the training room altogether, opting to work out at your local gym instead. You started to retreat to the many laboratories that Tony and Bruce had. You were helping Tony strategize new uses for his arc reactors. Diverting most of your time away from the small comforts you had weeks ago.

A creature of comfort. That’s exactly what you were. If your contentment was disturbed in any way. You hid. You changed. You adapted to expel whatever, or whomever, it was that was giving you discomfort. Then absorb your new conditions till you were settled again.

“Be careful not to touch those two c…” Tony started to say pointing to an encased batch of palladium on the counter. But before he could finish his sentence, a small explosion happened in front of your workstation, propelling you backward. You knocked your head onto the table behind you, then…black.

⬅️Series Masterlist | Chapter 2➡️

Taglist:

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[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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[mobius-m-mobius]

Thank you so much for replying to my anon ask! And please don't apologize for your long reply. I LOVE IT!

Sylvie has every right to build and explore the kind of love she wants, but I think she lacks self-awareness in her "call-out" of Mobius, which is why Loki calls /her/ out in the next scene, reminding her that the only reason she's at the TVA is because she couldn't kill Victor, not because she actually wanted to /help/.

I sent an ask to @bebx that I hope you don't mind that I copy/paste here, because that blow up about pie sets up Mobius narratively in the next 2 episodes.

Let's talk about the TVA seal. If Loki was the original founder of the TVA before HWR takes over and performs a memory-wipe, the dagger represents Loki, the hourglass/Mobius strip represents Mobius, the shield looks like it might actually be a mask, which can represent Sylvie, who has a gift for enchantments. All 3 of them need to be on the same page to succeed.

Speaking of Sylvie, a word on the pie scene: from a plot perspective, this was Mobius's lowest point. He must feel worthless and good for nothing. This is actually critical for c when Loki finds him: I think Mobius might decline going back, not necessarily because his life before TVA was any better, but because he will likely think he will cause more harm then good, and that the only thing he's good at is selling jet skis, which can't possibly harm anyone.

Loki, because he didn't say anything during the confrontation with Sylvie, will be compelled to tell him that's absolutely not true. Loki will tell Mobius that his kindness and his believing in him changed everything. Perhaps, if we're lucky, we'll get some kind of love confession. Loki might say he can't save the timeline alone and he /wants/ Mobius at his side. Thus, Loki believing in Mobius causes Mobius to believe in Loki. When his memories get wiped in the future by HWR, his love Loki (romantic or platonic) will be an echo of his love for jet skis. He won't remember why he loves Loki, he just knows he dies because he did before. Thus closing the loop and fulfilling the snake eating its own tail. Who saved who?

Lastly, For All Time, Always had been presented as an ominous slogan. I believe this is actually a pact Loki, Mobius and Sylvie make among themselves to protect all timelines and free will. When HWR invades the TVA and perfoms the memory wipe, the slogan becomes perverse. I bet the pruning sticks, magic dampeners, collars, and torture devices were brought into the TVA by him. He is an inventor, after all.

Also, in rebuilding the TVA's facilities (which will take some powerful magic, magic that would create a place that would impress a post-NY Loki), Mobius might request Loki and Sylvie for a pie automat and hot chocolate dispenser. Because stress. Sylvie might use her magic to grant his wish as a peace offering.

Oh hi! Lovely to meet you and of course, such a pleasure to read and reply to 😊

Really wish there was more thought put into Sylvie's direction this season because at this rate there hasn't been any depth into the time she's been spending at the McDonald's branch which she seemed to be enjoying building a routine at, in comparison to suddenly going back to trying to chase He Who Remains variants while constantly telling everyone at the TVA they're dragging her back in while *she's* following them around?

Her not knowing what to do with herself makes sense considering her life had been dedicated to revenge until now but I just can't connect in any way when her one firm goal has been protecting all timelines enough to give the people there chances to live full lives and no matter the terrible history she has with the TVA, they're the only entity capable of ensuring that. Would never expect her to like the place or anyone there but they've already proven they're now working to preserve and she has no other plan to offer than burning everything to the ground which isn't an option while the loom's at such a critical level so her repeatedly ignoring what's right in front of her is feeling more than a little pointless.

(here we go again haha, adding a read more for everyone's sake!)

Don't mind at all and completely agree about the narrative being set specifically to explore the mindset Mobius has been in all season as well as his perspective on finding out his past. Still debating on whether he has any awareness of the TVA when we see him again and am leaning heavily toward him being the original version of himself with no knowledge of Loki or anything else that's happened so I'd love to see how Loki convinces him or if there's any kind of inherent connection or understanding lingering between them anyway?? But if he does have access to his memories I really do think he'd want to take a step back after watching Loki go after Sylvie after the pie situation.

Which would therefore lead to Loki going into detail about the conversation he had with Sylvie defending Mobius and all he's done for not just everyone on the branches but himself as well and I really do think there's going to be a mutual confession regarding how they've changed each other for the better whether it's during the process of Loki getting Mobius' memories back or afterwards when they're (hopefully) fully back to the versions we've gotten to know and love.

I noticed the detail of the TVA seal when it got cracked and couldn't believe it didn't hit me earlier, lol! A dagger and a Möbius strip, how poetic 🥺 As for the third member making up the timekeepers I'm open to however it goes but can't help rooting for B-15 to have the position simply because she's such a strong person with true faith in what the TVA and be and accomplish and I think she's earned the spot but I could see Sylvie reluctantly coming around to the goals of a reformed TVA enough to lend her magic to certain elements of the design and do like to think every Loki can't help but have a soft spot for every Mobius so you may very well be right as to how so many sweets ended up in the TVA 😂

Still confusing me is how and when exactly HWR eventually enters the picture and takes control, and where Loki or Sylvie are at that point since Mobius, B-15, and Casey have clearly still been working there but think you're absolutely right about HWR having invented and introduced the more dangerous and controlling elements of the place.

Finally I just have to say I think we'll absolutely get a "For All Time, Always" exchanged between Loki and Mobius right before the series ends and you have no idea how here for it I am, really just want the two of them accepting how much good they can do at the TVA and when they're together so can't wait to see where the series eventually takes us!