#they just recognized this long ass familiar names and it CLICKED

[nadiajustbe]

Every single enemy of Ingary, trying to figure out the secret code which Royal Wizards have been using for months: What kind of combination is this? Is that a encryption?? A reverse spelling?! A secret alphabet..?

Ben, in Welsh: Do you think they'll ever find out?

Howl, responding (also in Welsh): I think it's gonna take them a while.

[midnightarcheress]

it wasn't my initial plan but let's go stalker!gaz again <3

cw: nsfw. stalking. obsessive gaz. perv gaz in denial lol. f!reader. part one | part two

Kyle sees you again. it's totally coincidental, of course.

the first time was in the market. he had postponed a grocery run for far too long, and a man can’t live solely on takeout, so he headed to the nearest store. walking down the pavement, he sees the familiar blue logo across the street, the same one from your hoodie, and the image of your pearly smile comes fully into his mind for the first time after the encounter.

he had been too obsessive that day, and a part of him felt disgusted by his behaviour. he’s a good man, a good soldier, not one of the creeps in white vans studying women like a hunter waiting to attack their prey. so he shoved the temptation to search for you in the back of his brain, tucked away in a corner with the rest of his dysfunctional urges.

but the other side, the one he maintains caged when he’s home, kept calling for him, itching for the surface, almost slipping his fingers to his cell phone so he could engage in the pursuit of the sweet little thing that invaded his lustful dreams. a side that he managed to hide until his gaze laid on your form on the frozen food aisle.

you looked just as stunning as he remembered. glossy lips, pretty plush thighs, delicate fingers pushing the shopping cart around. your hair was in a ponytail, easy grab, sports bra neatly holding your soft tits, could be my hands, a small drop of sweat sneaking down your exposed lower back, the mere sight making his cock twitch in his trousers. of course you go to the gym. i can train with you. how about some hip thrusts with you on– no. he can’t be thinking like that again.

he bites back the urge to follow you. or even spark a conversation, to test if you’re good with faces. it would be weird. but then he gets lost in the movements of your hips, in how gorgeous you look slightly bent down at the waist, reaching for a lower shelf and prancing your ass up, in how easy it would be to cause you any harm in that position. wouldn’t even hear me sneaking up with those headphones on. 

the second time was outside of a cafe. he had just ordered a coffee and was waiting by the counter, aimlessly looking out the front window when he saw you, walking out of a bookstore with a big bag. hi, sweetheart. he promptly steps out the door, the barista calling his name fading in the background as he rushes to you. or at least, rushes to a safe distance from you. 

he wishes nothing more than to take the heavy bag from you, interlock his fingers with yours and stroll back to his flat like a perfectly happy couple. he’d even build bookshelves for you. buy you an entire library, if you wanted. make you tea while you read, caress your hair, lazily eat you out for hours, hearing your muffled moans as you try to remain focused– fuck, quit it, Garrick.

but he doesn’t quit. he can’t. not when you’re so beautiful, so easy, so soft. such a good girl. not when he notices some guys eyeing you up on the street and he silently curses the lack of a weapon on his hand. not when you look over your shoulder and don't see him as a threat. do you recognize me, love? not when he finally looks at his surroundings and realises that he’s in his street and that you’re entering the building across from his. 

he takes that discovery as a sign from the universe. it must be fate that you’re so close to me, right? it’s a blessing, a sign from god that his thoughts are justified. the green light he was waiting to reveal the worst part of him, to unleash the demon gnawing at his self-control.

with a few clicks, he finds all of your socials. too easy. some were restricted, some were open, and some barely had content, but he doesn’t mind, the few pictures on your instagram are enough. at another time, he’d teach you about online safety – how there are bad people out in the world who yearn for an easy catch, and how a smart girl like you shouldn’t allow it.

his dick aches in his boxers as he studies every pixel of your photos. he feels it throbbing, leaking, painfully craving for any kind of friction, but he refuses to provide. he knows that once he starts, he would never stop, and the idea of spending his cum on anywhere that isn’t you – your cute little mouth, displayed on your tummy, your warm cunt – is not worthy.

the third time was in a pub. he had finally caught you on your kitchen window, looking a little too dressed up to be staying at home and downing what seemed like a shot of vodka. so, when you stepped on the sidewalk, he knew he had to follow you. pretty girl going out at night? alone? not on my watch.

the bar is a couple blocks from where you live, known for being filled with college students. very different from his crowd, but he doesn’t care, watching you from afar acts like a remedy for the headache caused by the loud noise of the place. just a peek at your sheer blouse, exposing the lacy bra underneath was sufficient to clear his heart of any cracks. 

but, not everything is perfect, and he immediately tags the face making its way to you. Marcus. just as ugly as in the tiny contact picture he saw. fuck, is she back with him? 

he gets his answer quickly – you push him aside and go back to your friends, chugging the rest of your pint like a lifeline. good girl. the man's left with an open mouth and shocked expression, and Kyle doesn't miss the flash of anger in his eyes. 

the next few minutes are a blur. Marcus stepped out in the back for some fresh air after nearly throwing up due too many drinks, and he didn't notice the guy following him. stupid prick, should've used your brain. 

Kyle re-enters the bar in no time, thumb brushing the edge of the switchblade in his pocket. he admires you in your booth – lips parted in a laugh, locks of hair cascading on your face, and a hazy aura pairing over you. well, aren't we tipsy, sweetheart? good thing i'm here to look over you.

he heads to the counter to get a drink, and he almost jumps when you appear by his side, finishing your tab for the night. your eyes shine when they land on his, brightness shared by your wide grin, “hey, i know you! you're the plane guy!” 

you do recognize me. fate. he gives you a once over, feigning that he doesn't instantly recall your face to hide the excitement bubbling in his chest. like he hasn’t been dreaming about stuffing your pussy with his thick cock and hearing your mewls every night. “yup, that's me.”

“nice seeing you again– oh, are you alright? you got some,” you motion to his forearm, “blood on you.” 

shit. he forgot he needed to clean up after his last activity. his mind scrambles to find an excuse, but a thought pops in his brain and he can't contain the growing bulge in his pants. look at you worried about me, love. such a sweet girl. “it's nothing, i was just a little clumsy,” he brushes off, watching the concern on your face evolve into a timid smile, “you leaving already?” 

“yeah, got an early day tomorrow. shouldn't drink too much,” you answer, putting your jacket back on. he stays glaring at you, mind too blank to form a coherent sentence. alone? this late? drunk? do you even know how many men are lurking outside, waiting for a minor slip-up to rip you open? “so... goodnight, then.” you say, giving the counter one last tap and heading to the door. think fast.

“wait!” he calls out, “you shouldn't go alone, it isn't safe.” your head tilts to the side, and his eyes trail down your pretty neck, just begging to be bitten. focus, Garrick.

“it's just a couple blocks from here, it's alright.” no. no it isn't. don't be stubborn, sweetheart. do you want me to throw you over my shoulder for being a brat? give your pretty ass a slap?

his eyes narrow, but the soft smile on his lips does a damn good job of luring you in – a trick he learned over the years. “may i walk you home then? i'd hate to see something bad happen to a sweet girl like you.”

you ponder for a moment. you shouldn’t accept, he’s still a stranger, and if the alcohol wasn’t fuzzing your brain, you would say no. but his smile is so convincing, the dog tags around his neck are so reassuring of his good intentions that you don’t even notice when you nod. 

he smirks, and the tent between his legs gets even bigger. he’s such a good man. won’t let anything stain your soft, pure flesh. i’ll protect you, sweet girl.

[vampiricgf]

— g. satoru | FAMILY MATTERS

warnings : dead dove do not eat, dark content, pseudocest (stepdad/stepdaughter), noncon, restraints, slapping, oral, fingering, dacryphilia, pet names (honey, sweetheart, pumpkin, baby), creampie, emotional manipulation, use of daddy, underwear stealing

wc : 3.5k+

if you choose to expand the work and read it, it's your responsibility. I have made sure to use the proper warnings and kept everything beneath a read more for a reason! also sorry for any errors it's not edited

Coming back home wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

If you’re being honest with yourself you weren’t sure what exactly it was supposed to feel like, but you did know enough to recognize your childhood home shouldn’t feel like a mausoleum. Maybe that was due in part to the overall bitterness of having to come back at all, a failed bid for independence left a lingering sour taste washing across your tongue. It didn’t help your guilt either, guilt for having left your stepfather behind while chasing all the fury of youth. 

You mom was long gone, mostly a faded memory now and it was him, Satoru, who had taken care of you through your adolescence in the aftermath of her disappearance. You would always be grateful to him on some level for that, especially since it would’ve been just as easy for him to toss you out on your ass with a good luck, kid. But he didn’t. Even with the long hours at Jujutsu Tech and the missions you knew he tried to keep secret from you, he still tried. Although you mostly found the overly affectionate displays embarrassing when you were younger, you would be a liar if you said it didn’t provide a certain level of comfort.

Or at least, it did. You knew better, knew that even as an adult yourself you were still explicitly forbidden from entering his study. Wished so hard you physically squeezed every muscle in your body taught that you hadn’t gone nosing for moms things. It had been natural to assume though that if he would keep anything of hers it would be in the study, not out in the main house anywhere. 

You’d just wanted to feel closer to her in a low moment, not pludge even further down in free fall. 

In the small closet inside that room you’d found it. Thought it was just a small box of maybe her jewelry or something like that.

Not a box of trophies. 

Bile rose quick and acidic as you recalled what had been inside that box, fingers gripping the edge of your mattress as you tried to control your breathing. 

Various pairs of womens underwear. So many it was beyond inconceivable, and all carefully folded to fit inside the wooden confines, clearly precious to whomever had placed them there. 

What was worse is that you spotted a familiar set tucked away in the midst of the array of colors and materials. Your own fucking stepfather had stolen a pair of your underwear.

Tears rolled down your face as your breathing spiralled out of control. 

Every interaction since coming home was now colored differently in your racing mind, bearing a more sinister undertone now than any of the warmth you usually felt when it came to the man you looked at like a father. 

But he would be home soon, you needed to get yourself under control and you needed to do it now. He would be expecting you to be ready to go through the usual evening routine you had fallen into: cooking dinner in comfortable silence, occasional chatter about his workday, the familial domesticity of sharing the work of cleaning up before spending the rest of your time either together in the living room or in your separate spaces. You in your bedroom, him in his study. 

Your skin crawled, feeling like something damp and slimy was wrapping around you in a vise grip, like a cobra made of all this sickness swimming around inside your head and your gut. 

The thought of cooking side by side, cleaning up and feeling him wrap you in a hug was enough to make you feel ready to expel everything inside your body. 

The clicking and thudding coming from further down the hall sent chills running down your back as you sprung up, frantically rubbing your eyes with your sleeves. Oh fuck. You cringe, knwoing that he’ll be able to clock it immediately that you’d been crying and you couldn’t stomach the idea of him comforting you right now. But time was rapidly ticking down, marked by the sounds of him tossing his keys in the little ceramic bowl you’d made as a kid, the sliding of a jacket against the metal hook on the wall, the solid thumps of shoes being removed and hitting the wood floor. 

“Hey, sweetheart, are you home?” The question drifted through the house, reaching your now hyper aware ears. 

After taking a few seconds to steady yourself you padded out of your bedroom, arms wrapped around yourself like a shield. “Hey, dad. How was work?”

Before he can answer he looks up at you, instantly his features are awash in concern and you shrink away automatically, before you can catch yourself. 

“Something happen today?” His crystal blue eyes moved methodically over your face, making you feel hot all over and suddenly gripped by fear, like pinpricks of ice punched into your heart. 

“No, just… Just feeling sad. A little bit.” Your voice is stilted and awkward but he seems to buy it, giving you a little aw sound before pulling you in for a hug. 

“S’alright baby. Hey how about we make your favorite tonight, yeah?” He gives you a kiss on the temple and it makes you squirm, the barely contained urge to break out of his hold and take off at a breakneck speed back to your room surging through your head, but you stuff it down. 

Shyly you back up, trying your best to give him a wobbly smile. “Sure, that sounds good.” 

~

Dinner was mostly uneventlful, thank god. Because of the sheer stress and anxiety the actual act of cooking and doing dishes passed by in a blur, and you didn’t have the ability to choke back much food but he seemed to chalk it up to your low mood and didn’t pry. 

Except that now, as you laid in bed in the dark of your room, your every thought focused on the fact that he was shut away in that study. What was he doing in there? Going through the box, relishing in the feeling of all those things in his hands? Or was he zeroed in on yours, face pressed to the silky material with deep inhales, getting rock hard like a fucking freak? 

Fresh tears gathered in your waterline, spilling over and rolling down your cheeks, puddling in your ears but you couldn’t care less. 

You’d never wshed more in your life to be a sorcerer. Maybe then you could feel more confident, if not in confronting him than at least in fleeing. At least you’d have some ability, no matter how small, to protect yourself and shove him out of your life. But instead you were just a sniffling, regular person. At an extreme disadvantage against someone like him. Pathetic. 

You curled up on your side, squeezing your eyes shut against the overwhelming thoughts and the sheer disgust pooling in your belly. 

As you gave all your focus to your breathing you could feel yourself slipping away, exhaustion setting in after hours of being wound so taut you were like a string ready to snap in two. 

You locked your bedroom door, certainly. 

~

It’s dark when your eyes crack open, a different sort of darkness than when you had initially fallen asleep, the sort thats thick as molasses and just as difficult to rid yourself of. It doesn’t register until you try to stretch onto your side, a tug of resistance against some kind of binding. Immediately your eyes snap open fully, heartbeat thrumming as adrenaline shoots through your veins at light speed. 

You thrash, twisting and noticing with a sickliness that someone changed your clothes, or rather removed them and left you in only a pair of underwear. 

Immediately the room turns cold, as if you’ve been transported to the Arctic circle in the blink of an eye. All you can do is whimper as your eyes adjust and your movements come to a halt. It’s then that you catch sight of a familiar shade of white blonde, shining even in the darkness. 

Your stepfather is leaned against the dresser across from your bed, body language lax and lazy, like a cat thats been stretching in the sun after a good meal. You find his eyes, that shocking blue shade no longer familiar as he pins you with the weight of them. His small smile is seemingly meant to convey bashfulness but you see through it, catch sight of the predatory glint of his canines as he pushes off the piece of furniture and walks around to the side you’ve turned your head towards. 

“Hey pumpkin, we should probably talk huh?” You flinch, pushing your body back against the mattress as if you could put any distance between yourself and him. The restraints looped around the rods of your headboard thoroughly prevent that.

“Now, don’t be so high strung. I had to make sure we could have this conversation, you get that right? Now listen, I don’t know what you think you saw-”

“You’re a fucking freak,” you spit, full of vitriol as you glare at him, breathing heavily now. You forget to be afraid, forget the vulnerability of your current position. All that matters now is making sure he knows you think he’s beyond disgusting, a man no longer your step father but a bizarre monster. 

In a split second his hand cracks across your cheek, making you yelp as your head snaps to the opposite side. Immediately a sob bursts from your lips, the sting already setting in. It’s so shocking that you can only gape at him as you face him once again, an odd feeling of betrayal setting in. Not even when you were on your worst behavior did he ever so much as raise a hand to you, barely ever raised his voice even. The man crouching down next to you is unrecognizable. 

“C’mon, I’m trying to have a real conversation with you, don’t be a brat.” You bite your bottom lip, hard enough to wince, but you don’t cry out and you don’t interrupt him.

“Now, you’re a smart girl. Always have been, so you should be smart enough to know that sometimes a mans just gonna have urges, sweetheart.” His long fingers sweep against your burning cheek, making your breathe seize in your throat painfully. 

“You’re sick,” you croak out, his face becoming blurry as tears fall anew. 

You can hear him laugh humorlessly. “Yeah, maybe so. But I’m also a good man, a good dad. Coulda just threw you out, you know. Thought about it. But your mom was just so sweet, I figured whats the harm in keeping a little of that sweetness around.” 

His words make you feel like you could vomit, the implications speeding through your head are enough to make you dizzy and you briefly wonder if he hit you hard enough to cause some kind of brain damage. You don’t get long to ruminate on it though, his thumb rubbing around your lips in slow, steady circles drags you back to the present moment. 

“You look just like her, I ever tell you that? I wonder if you taste the same too.” 

That makes your heart drop all the way to your ass, blubbering pathetically as his hand creeps down your chest now, stopping to squeeze at your breasts and twist your nipple harshly. 

“Really, your dads not a bad guy honey. We could’ve gone our whole lives without anything like this, but you just had to be nosy huh?” You’re not sure if he’s really talking to you or talking to himself and you don’t truly care, all you want is for this to stop. 

“Please dad, you don’t have to,” you get cut off by his hand slipping down the front of your underwear, long index finger stroking against your wetness and its with horror that you realize yes, you are wet right now. It makes you choke on your own spit, renewed vigor in your movements as you start tugging against the restraint again. 

He seemingly lets you tire yourself out, hand never withdrawing, just continuing to stroke you before his fingers connect with your clit and you bite back a groan. 

You hear his grin more than see it as he speaks again. “Let yourself relax pumpkin, it doesn’t have to be so bad.”

You whine, low in your throat, but find yourself complying. Your body stills, your breathing the only sound beside the soft slick noises of his fingers playing with your pussy. With your eyes shut you can almost forget that it’s your own stepfather doing it, can pretend you're just sexually exploring with someone else, anyone else. 

But his other hand grips your face, squishing your cheeks together and forcing you to open your eyes. “Nu-uh, you gotta keep those pretty eyes open for me baby.” You cry out feeling his thumb press hard against your clit, feeling a pulsing like a second heartbeat reverberating from your cunt. “You know, I’m kind of glad you find that stuff. Been thinking about this for a long time.”

You let his words wash over you, hating the way they make your pussy clench around nothing. Are you so fucked up that you’re getting off right now? You decide it doesn’t matter, none of this matters. Just a bad dream from start to finish. Thats all.

“M’sorry dad,” you say, voice breaking and you hear him coo at you before letting go of your cheeks, shifting to lean back on his knees before you can feel him working to slide your underwear off. You don’t kick or thrash, eyes trained on the shadowy ceiling. 

“It’s okay honey, you know everythings okay.” He breathes the words against the flesh of your inner thighs as he slides down onto his belly between your legs. “I love you.”

You can’t answer before he places a kiss to your puffy clit, making your legs jerk and your breathing hitch in your chest. His lips wrap around the sensitive little bud and begin sucking, light and rhythmic and desire wraps its fingers around your mind. You moan openly, hands twisting against the soft fabric binding them. He hums into your soaked cunt, dragging his tongue up and down through your folds, fingers prodding at your entrance before pushing against the ring of muscle, sliding inside you and making your head spin all over again. 

You don’t realize you’re bucking your hips against his hand, greedily trying to take more of his fingers inside as your walls reshape to accommodate the intrusion. His fingers are perfectly slender, long enough to reach the spots you’ve never been able to get yourself and making your vision swim. 

His nose bumps against your clit in just the right way, making you cry out for more, a sort of delirium settling into your very bones an dhe obliges your unspoken need with his tongue.

“Please daddy, please,” you blubber, barely coherent, “love you- I love you-”

With a garbled cry you feel yourself coming undone, your muscles flexing so tightly your back raises off the bed, legs screaming from the strain as you cum. 

On the comedown he never stops rubbing your pussy, making you sob from the prolonged contact and your own sensitivity post orgasm. As you cry you can hear the soft shushing of fabric moving, being discarded, thankful for the momentary break in physical contact. 

“There she is,” he murmurs, voice gentle as you feel the head of his cock bump against your clit, push through your mess of arousal and cum to coat his dick. You feel conflicting horror and excitment at the feeling, horror at yourself for being excited at the though of him pushing inside you fully. 

You don’t get the chance to respond before he was doing exactly that, the head of his cock sitting heavy inside you as he gave a few shallow thrusts that made you pant and wince. He felt heavy inside you already, but you weren’t given much of a grace period for adjustment before he was pushing in once more, clearly relishing in the way your gasped and arched upward once more. 

The sheer girth of him was astounding, coupled with the length reaching impossibly far up inside you and in a sickening way you felt jealous that other girls had felt his cock before you did. He was your dad, didn’t it just make sense? 

“Knew you’d take it so well, pussy was made for me, yeah?” He grunts out as he bottoms completely, hips nearly flush with yours and hands pressing your thighs down firmly to open you as wide as possible. And it all felt impossibly good, better than anything you’d ever had before. 

You nod your head dumbly, still thick with the pain from his slap and the afterglow of your earlier orgasm. 

He doesn’t start with a soft pace, not that you really expected him too. Clearly it had worked him up, the time he’d spent lavishing your cunt with attention and the thought made you feel strangely proud at having been the reason your stepfather was painfully hard and fucking you into the mattress with abandon. The pace was so brutal all you could do was hang on to the restraint, feeling your breasts bouncing wildly as he gripped your legs so hard it would definitely leave bruises in the morning. 

“You take it so much better than any of the others,” his voice is strained, probably from the way your clamping down around him and the way your walls are massaging his cock frantically, as if you need his load or you’ll die. 

A thought pops into your mind and you squeak it out before you can stop yourself. “Your favorite, dad?” 

“Ah fuck, yeah you’re my favorite baby.” His head tips back as he lets go of your legs to grab your hips, yanking you up a bit more than what your current position allows but the pain of it feels delicious in tandem with the way his cock rams against your cervix, another round of tears falling as your mouth drops open in a silent wail.

The way hes holding you open makes you feel like you’ll snap into a million pieces, it’s all so suddenly overwhelming and you don’t notice the way his thrusts become sloppier, his moans more unintelligable as he pushes even deeper inside you with every internal push. And suddenly hes caging you, gripping your face again but not to squish your cheeks it’s clearly to force you to look at him and you do, eyes blown wide and still wet with saltwater. His own fairytale blue eyes lock with yours before his lips crash against your own, all clicking teeth and sliding tongues, uncaring towards the spit leaking from the corners of your mouth as you squeal into the surprise kiss. 

Whats more shocking is how good it feels, as if what you needed to completely tip you over that insane edge was his kiss, all consuming and blotting out any lingering thoughts of how wrong this all was. And it worked, suddenly you had no qualms about chanting his name like a prayer as he rubbed our clit once more, desperately trying to get you over the edge with him again. 

As that coil snaps inside your body and the rush of endorphins flood your brain you’re struck by the thought that nobody could ever make you cum like he has, and how even though he hasn’t even pulled out yet you already want him to do it again. 

And its then that you feel it, that thick gooey warmth spreading inside your pussy as he gives one last thrust, as if he could shove all of himself inside you. Between kisses and the grinding of his hips, like he wanted to keep fucking his cum inside you, something shifts fully. An irreparable rearrangement of your mind. Of course looking through his things was wrong, any parent punishes their child for being naughty no matter how old they are. And really, your lucky your dad cares so much about you that he let you cum twice, let you feel his cock stretch you out and kissed you while you cried. 

He even came inside you, so you can be good for him now, right? 

Apparently you’d been speaking aloud as he rubbed his hand over your tummy, pressing down slightly as he pulled out to watch the way his cum oozed out of your exhausted pussy. 

“That’s right honey, see you are my smart girl. And if you’re real good daddy can fill you up again, would you like that?” 

You nod blearily, feeling utterly boneless against the rumpled sweat soaked sheets. 

“I know you’ll behave, my good girl. Better than your mom, anyway.” He says offhandedly as he rises, grabbing his hastily tossed clothes, and you can’t help the way you shiver at that. The vague threat tugs at your mind but for now you decide to shove it away. 

All that matters is being as good as possible. 

And maybe getting on birth control. 

[powderpinkandsweeet]

Loser Ellie again, this is my fixation now. Pt two to my previous post about Ellie living in the apartment below you.

It was usually quiet in Ellie's apartment so she could strain to hear what you were doing in your apartment above her. Footsteps, water running, and the soft hum of voices was all she was getting, so Ellie had to savor those moments passing you in the stairwell. The buzzing of what she assumed was your vibrator hadn't rumbled through your floor and her ceiling for almost a week, and Ellie was getting antsy.

Friday night, Ellie had come home from a night at Jesse's cross-faded off cheap weed and even cheaper beer. Her door clicked behind her and she ambled to the kitchen to satisfy her munchies. On the hunt for something crunchy and salty, she hears a noise. Giggling and stumbling steps can be heard from the stairwell. The uneven "click clack" of your heels and your sweet voice passed by her doorway. Another woman's voice was with you, but she couldn't recognize it. When the top step to the second floor creaked, Ellie took the opportunity to look through her door's peephole. Through a fish-eye view, Ellie could see you round the stairwell. You're stumbling, holding onto the bicep of the hulking woman beside you with a big smile and starry eyes gazing at your company. As you climb the next stairwell to your floor, Ellie lets out a sigh. She didn't miss the brute's hand on the small of your back trailing to cup your ass as she guided you.

She could only hope you were just friends, but the way the other woman had held onto you and the way you looked at her said something different. Maybe she was there for a drink? Coffee? Just to get you home safe maybe? Ellie had a bad feeling, but she couldn't pull herself away. She heard your light steps and the other woman's heavy steps move toward the bedroom, so Ellie trailed behind. Like she had done countless times before, Ellie pulled her shorts and boxers down her thighs.

You climbed onto your creaking bed frame and Ellie swears she had never heard you this loud through the drywall. You cried out in rhythm with the squeaks of the bedframe and the knocking of the headboard to the wall. Though muffled, Ellie could hear your "Ngh, ungh! Ah! AH! FUUck!" as your pussy was pounded. Ellie felt the burn of jealousy at how well the woman was treating you, but couldn't help to get off to the way you cried and screamed. Tears ran down her face and her teeth gritted to quiet her own moans. She needed to hear you come, and could only hope the bitch you had brought home could get you there.

All the sudden, your moans stopped. Snapping her eyes open, Ellie's eyes locked on the ceiling with her brows furrowed. She panted for a second until a familiar sound came through. The buzzing of the wand could barely be heard through your moans, but Ellie could hardly bring herself to care as your moans raised in volume and pitch. She couldn't see, but her imagination took over as she could envision your bouncing tits, your jaw dropped open, and a cock-drunk look on your face.

Ellie got just what she wanted, but it was bittersweet as you called out the mystery woman's name with your orgasm. "Abby, Abby I'm coming ohmyfuckinggod I'm gonna come. Oh fuck fuck fuck please don'tstopdon'tstopdon't stop," and then a long and drawn out grown spilled from your lips as you came. But that wasn't the end. "Wait, fuuuUck. I'm too sensitive Abby please. Just a second fuck." Ellie knew if she were the one fucking you she wouldn't stop until you squirted in her open mouth. In the aftermath, Ellie took the time and effort to clean herself up before passing out in bed. She hoped you would sleepwell. As she drifted off, she heard the heavy steps leave your apartment and the creak of the second floor step on her way downstairs. She worried about you being alone after such a rough session, but she slept better knowing that this "Abby" wasn't sleeping next to you.

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ on my mind since the flood ❞ ─ a darling, in any life blurb

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader. summary: the red thread between two people destined to be together may stretch and tangle, but those ties will never break. or: a 45min train ride makes two 43 year olds feel like teenagers. content warnings: divorce babes, divorce. kinda spoiler-ish. watch the 3rd season before. the reader has a backstory and a job, if that bothers you grow up don't read. word count: 960+

Your hair was different, that was the first thing he noticed.

Much like himself, you had soft wrinkles beginning to show up on your forehead and around your eyes, a gift from your late thirties that kept on giving. Your eyes were the same though, he could recognize those anywhere at anytime, even if it had been decades since the last time they stared back at his. Your nose, your lips. Your smile. The way his name sounded coming from your tongue. It was all extremely familiar, as if he was fifteen again.

"You're staring, like a creep, airhead." The old nickname rolls out like you had spent merely seconds apart and it makes him laugh, it has been weeks, maybe months since he last laughed genuinely like that, with his whole face.

"I just got lost—" In your eyes. "In my memories for a bit. You look so much the same."

"Well, my pay check won't allow me any plastic surgeries so—"

"Wise ass." And there it was, like a reflex, his own nickname to you leaving his lips before he even thought about it, if he did think about it he probably would've held it in, a 43 year old FBI agent using childish nicknames not being the best look, but it didn't feel like that with you, at all, it felt natural. You both laugh at it for a second and a comfortable silence follows it, but Aaron couldn't keep it like that, he needed to know more, where have you been, what were you doing... Have you been in Virginia for long? He kept it as casual as he could considering his curiosity, "How have you been?"

"Alright, good, yeah. I’m teaching at Scalia, started this year, I want to keep practicing though, but I’m gonna settle down in Virginia first." You shrug, taking a sip of your coffee. You were purposefully leaving details out, you had seen him on TV a lot since coming back to the states, FBI, profiler. You wanted to see how much could he get from you without words. "What about you, mister FBI hotshot?"

If you two were still teens the way your teasing came out would've made him blush, and quite frankly if he wasn't so self controlled maybe he would've blushed right now, he did feel warm, but instead he just let a chuckle out of his throat, "Well, FBI hotshot just had his divorce finalized, not that glamorous being in these shoes." You already knew what he was doing with his life, it made sense to give the only actual news he had, "Scalia? Law degree too, then." Aaron clicks his tongue, not holding back the instant smirk the realization brought. "Your mother used to say we were so similar we shared the same brain, remember?"

"Welcome to the club, then! Meeting every Friday, membership perks only after the second one, though." His eyes went straight to your fingers, seeing the lack of any rings he nods to himself. Twice divorced. Dark heavy coat, makeup accentuating your features, red lips, hair pulled back. You care about being seen, and desired, but don't want to be approached, a teacher-lawyer, no time, a lot of perfectionism. "Yeah, I stay far away from criminal. Civil and International Law cases mostly. Families, divorces, cross-board custodies." A child of divorce trying to save other children of divorce. Very typical behavior.

Aaron felt like he could stay like this for hours on end, sitting by your side uncomfortably on the train after fate pulled you two to one another again, hearing you tell him about your life in London, your divorces, your time in college. You made him feel young, like you were still his childhood best friend who he fell for. Like if he were to kiss you like he did when you were both thirteen you would still blush and grip tightly on his shirt. Nostalgia was indeed a bittersweet thing.

"I think when you moved away was the last time I openly sobbed." He shakes his head, the thought leaving his brain in a quiet, hushed voice tone, like a secret he wasn't supposed to be telling. It had been years, you were both fifteen when your parents got divorced and you were taken to England with your father. 28 years since the last time he saw you, and he still can feel the same pain if he thinks too hard about it, the way his heart felt like was being sliced apart, getting smaller by the minute as your father's car got further and further away. His mood soured in a way his feelings were only able to function normally again after meeting Haley.

Your hand softly touched his with the confession, your thumb going to his palm and drawing small comforting circles, "I cried myself to sleep a lot that year." Aaron glued his eyes on the way your hands touched, and you thought he might reject it, find it weird after so many years, but instead he just closed his around yours tightly, a silent thankful prayer to the universe, mixed with the warning that he had no intention to let go.

You both stay like that as you talk the rest of the ride, cellphone numbers and e-mails are exchanged, along with longing glances beginning to make you shy like the school girl you once were, when you fell for him the first time. You often wondered what would've happened if you stayed in Washington. Before Jack, Aaron wondered it too from time to time, but truly, he wouldn't do anything different now, he wouldn't choose any alternative ending that would take Jack from him.

But at least now he had a second chance, right?

[waves-against-a-cliff]

A New Face - Gaz x Reader Bakery AU

Content Warnings - Masterbation and shame. AFAB reader

Part two

A/N - Thank you @groguspicklejar for being a massive inspiration and letting me bounce ideas off of you <3

Gaz dabs away the last of the water on his brow away with a towel before throwing it into the duffel bag. The locker room was steamy from his rather long hot shower to loosen up his joints after the work out he had just endured. He nods politely to the woman who sits at the front desk of the gym a few blocks from his flat and a block away from his favorite post workout stop. The London winter wind bites at his cheeks as he walks down the street with his duffel bag slung over his shoulder and he wonders if the older lady would be delighted to see him again seeing as he had disappeared for three months. His shoulder was still stiff from the fresh scar and aches in the cold weather which is why stepping into the warm shop was a blessing. Gaz saunters over to his usual spot in the corner of the bakery and cafe. 

He looks up when he hears the small clicks of heels coming towards him and feels his heart stutter to a stop when he sees you. You smile at him and ask him what he would like while bating your eyelashes. “Two muffins, a cinnamon roll and a coffee with six sugars and creamer.” he finally says after pulling himself from your eyes. 

“And a name for that order?” your smile grows and you write down the order on a little notepad after repeating his name back to him then saunter off behind the counter.Gaz feels his soul dirty as his eyes wander to your ass perfectly hugged by the pants.

He sips on his coffee at home with the three sweet items he ordered sitting in a brown bag on his counter. The flat was unremarkable and a bit too big for just himself, a fact he lamented each time he returned to his flat after each deployment. Two bedrooms was just too much for him but the kitchen and living area was nice at least. He looks over at the brown bag that has his name written on it and recalls the way his name sounded coming from you.

Gaz groans as his cock chubs up within his sweatpants as his mind floods with images of you. A sweet girl who worked at the bakery right down the street who had no idea what thoughts were tumbling through his head. He rushes to his shower and only turns the cold on to keep the hard on at bay.

It's night when he returns from his quick grocery trip that took longer than he wanted. Long lines and his own indecisiveness on what he was going to make himself was what to blame. Gaz fishes his keys from his pocket and curses when he fumbles them onto the ground.

“Let me help you.” a familiar voice chirps and he feels his stomach do flips as he watches you bend down to grab his keys.Your fingers barely graze his but it felt like he was being shocked. “Oh, Kyle right?” you ask, recognizing those brown eyes of his and giggling a little. “I guess we’re neighbors.” you grin and he glances at the flat door next to his. When he doesn’t respond you continue to speak anyways, “I got these cupcakes that my boss let me take home but uh, there's a lot. Do you like cupcakes?”

“Huh? I do.” Gaz says and just about collapses in on himself when you tell him to wait right there and run into your apartment. You come back out with three cupcakes expertly frosted on a paper plate.

“Here you go.” you place the plate into his hands as he stares a little dumbfounded at you and the cupcakes. “Think of it as a neighbor's gift.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one giving you cupcakes then?” you roll yours eyes at his comment before turning and going into your apartment. Gaz doesn’t want to admit that he stroked his cock that night thinking of you or the way he scrubbed himself raw afterwards.

[write-kin]

Barb and Bayonet

notes: thank you to @cyberwhumper for lending me your guys!! :D i hope i did them justice. sunshine and dog now take up a significant portion of my brain.

naming this was the hardest part. i did write this over several days and i don't have the energy to fix the tense switching so let's pretend it's a clever way to show sunshine's issues with time. also this is LONG wow im sorry

CWs: dehumanization, lab/medical whump, loosely referenced past noncon, violence (non-graphically described, but to the point of disembowelment), mentions of unwanted body modification, drugging (tranquilizer)

--

“Did you hear one of the big suits in Engineering got fired?”

“No shit. What for?”

“Apparently he was dating- no, married to? No, dating the boss’ daughter. The big boss. Eponymous Mr. De Conti himself.”

“No shit.”

“Yeah. Anyways, apparently they got into a nasty fight, and she pulled a couple of strings and got him dumped out on his ass.”

“Jeez.”

The crate that held the Sunshine Project was on wheels, smooth rolling occasionally interrupted by a bump in the otherwise cleanly-paved asphalt or a rock. When that happened, it curled up a little more, groaning in discomfort from the nausea it had been left in. 

“He was a kid, too. Like, not even thirty. You know the reason that he got that high up was because he was dating her.”

“Really.”

“Yeah! High school sweethearts, my ass. I mean, if I studied for twenty fucking years at-” 

“DeConti Technologies.” 

The movement stopped, and Sunshine took the opportunity to readjust itself. From the thin slats in the crate, it could see some sort of door.

The light hurt its eyes. Looking up had been a bad idea.

There’s some shuffling, and a beep. The second man speaks first, this time.

A few more beeps, and then they’re moving again. 

Sunshine isn’t privy to much info surrounding them. They mostly learn things from chatty handlers. 

All they know this time is that they’re not the only person- project- being transferred. Something about attempted infiltration from a rival.

The crate gets pulled along a far smoother floor this time, sometimes more footsteps joining them. Sometimes it’s just the two sets that Sunshine is used to. After a bit, there’s a harsh turn, and then another stop. Sunshine vaguely recognizes the hum of LED lighting. Flinches away from the slats. There’s a click in the lock of the crate, and the door slowly opens.

Dully, Sunshine curses at the fact that someone decided to put it through a chemical flush immediately before transfer. And then, judging from everything around them, they were going to be trying some new infusions immediately after. They don’t feel great. 

“You sure about leaving Sunshine with this one? I mean, it’s being moved because- well, I mean, I heard from a friend it mauled its last cellmate.”

“Ooh.”

“Had to take the poor thing to emergency surgery.”

“Mm.”

“Don’t worry, gentlemen.”

A third voice interrupts them, self-assured and confident. Sunshine doesn’t see their face as it’s ushered out of the crate, the less talkative worker making a face at the pile of sick in the corner. It’s pulled up to its feet, the larger and chattier one throwing its arm over his shoulder as he walks it to a familiar set of machinery. Set down with a friendly clap on its shoulder as it adjusts to the new setting. Tries to get its head to stop spinning.

“We’ve sedated it after that incident. Besides, we’d owe you a lot of money if your bioengineering work was ruined. I assure you, every precaution has been taken to assure its safety.” 

The ports are well-designed. A little magnetic pulse, and they open up. The cables that are inserted into them are thick, bendable plastic. Most of the chemicals inside them have been dyed with food colouring, to distinguish them from one another. Nontoxic. Not enough to change the composition that’s going inside of their body. 

They’re allowed the dignity of keeping its hospital gown mostly on. Tied around the waist, front down so the ports on its shoulders, arms, and chest are plugged in.

When it’s all hooked up, with the chemicals- they never tell it what- slowly seeping into it, Sunshine lays down on its side. 

The worst is the one on its tailbone. The base of the spine is an integral place for these infusions. At least, that’s what it’s been assured. But it always hurts, and it always feels uncomfortable.

At least it’s past the phase where they duct-taped its hands together to stop it trying to remove the cable. 

The big worker gives it one last sympathetic look, before the whole group and the crate leave. 

It could have sworn they were talking about it having a cellmate. But it didn’t see anyone. Just it, the wires, the door, and the cold floor. 

Until the door opened again. 

The noise was loud. Metal on tile, and the scraping of metal on metal. 

Sunshine lifted its head again, dizzy. 

There was another scientist- a different logo on their coat- watching as eight unfamiliar other workers tried to drag in… something.

It looked kind of like a person. Sort of. Sunshine blinked, squinting a little.

The thing was huge, easily almost twice Sunshine’s height. Long, metal limbs, black hair, metal panelings replacing most skin. They’d be scared, if it didn’t look exhausted, if it wasn’t being held up as it blearily made its way into the room. The thing almost fell over onto its side several times, nearly crushing the men under it. Its ears were down, pinned to the sides of its head in seeming exhaustion.

Eventually, it was dragged into the other corner of the room. It didn’t move. 

The men left, and the scientist behind them, turning sharply on their heel. 

Sunshine stared at the other thing. It almost forgot to blink. 

It was huge. That went through their mind again. The way its back hunched and its limbs twitched as it… slept? Felt unnatural. Like it wasn’t used to being like this. 

They decided they would join it in resting. Closed their eyes, and let the rhythm of the infusion’s drip lull them to sleep.

The thing sniffed them, inspected the infusion ports, ears up and forwards. Looked like whatever they’d sedated it with had worn off. 

Sunshine woke up to a cold nose on its shoulder. Warm metal pawing at its side.

Instinctively, one of its hands went up to protect the ports. Last time one had been dislodged, well… Sunshine’s face and left shoulder showed how bad of an idea that was. 

Sunshine flinched away, slowly sitting up. They remembered what the bigger worker had said- mauled its last cellmate. 

It was sitting close to them, hunched over. Looking more like an animal than a person. 

The black metal on its chin led into two metallic fangs, pointing up. 

It surprised Sunshine when the thing spoke. Enough that they flinched away from it at the sudden noise. 

But the voice was softer than they’d anticipated. Not gentle on the ears, but not painful. 

“... like me.” 

“Who are you?”

Sunshine couldn’t respond. Their voice wouldn’t obey them even if they wanted to speak. Instead, they stayed still as the thing inspected them. 

Sunshine isn’t sure what it means by that. 

Or what it intends when it starts nudging them back towards the wall, making them flinch again and make a quiet noise of pain when it bumps the tailbone cable into the wall.

The rest of the infusion isn’t pleasant. It never is, really. 

That stops it, though. Something flashes in its eyes. It tilts its head, and then gently pushes Sunshine down with a hand. Paw?

They’re too horizontal to care. Instead, they stare up as it lays down beside him, body large enough to curl around Sunshine easily. 

That’s the cycle, though. Unpleasant infusion, unpleasant observation, unpleasant flush, unpleasant waiting period. 

Without thinking, Sunshine reaches a hand up. Runs a hand over the soft fur on one of the thing’s ears, causing it to twitch. 

Although, unexpectedly, the thing makes the whole ordeal almost… pleasant. When Sunshine has to adjust, trying to run from the pain of having something foreign injected into their body, it curls in closer. When they relax, and their breathing evens out, its mechanical tail taps the floor.

Like it’s wagging. Like a dog. 

It’s surprisingly pleasant. And the thing doesn’t seem to mind. 

When Sunshine goes up for another pet, it even pushes its head up to encourage the movement. They can’t move their arm too far, or risk disrupting the cable work, so it’s a nice compromise. 

Eventually, it adjusts, putting a massive metal arm over their side. It feels like it’s crushing them, but the sensation isn’t entirely unpleasant. And Sunshine’s hand can move comfortably over its head, at least until the movement slows and stops. 

It was reassuring. 

Vaguely, in the hazes where they woke up to readjust, Sunshine realized that because of their cellmate’s sheer size, they were hidden entirely from view. Sure, there were cameras, but not in the infusion bay. And they couldn’t be seen from the door. 

When Sunshine woke up properly again, their friend was still dead asleep, but had been  moved off of them. Someone was holding their head up as the cables were being removed from the ports, which were then closed up with the ‘clicker thingy’. 

Then, Sunshine was laid back down, and the workers scurried out.

None of them said ‘Hello’, so none of them were the nice, chatty one. That was sad. Sunshine liked that one. 

It circled around behind them, and then that paw was over their tailbone, pushing them across the floor a little in an attempt to inspect the port. 

When their cellmate woke up, it pushed itself onto all fours, and yawned. Big, metal fangs glinting in the light as it stretched. It looked back over at Sunshine, and tilted its head. Looked… concerned?

They weren’t great at telling emotions anymore. 

They managed to turn around, making eye contact with their cellmate.

It spoke again. Quiet, gentle. Concerned. 

“Where did it go?”

Sunshine tilted their head. Pointed up at the infusion bay they’d just slept in. If you squinted, you could see the ends of the cables in their bays. 

It made its way back over, pushing up onto its hind legs to inspect the bays, terrifyingly tall even when it wasn’t at its full height. Tried to tug the biggest one, the one connecting to the tailbone port, down. Like this, it looked closer to natural on two legs.  

It looked back down at Sunshine. Tugged at the cable. 

Sunshine shook their head. They couldn’t speak, but… trying to communicate wasn’t too hard. Shaking and nodding one’s head and pointing went a long way. 

That seemed to make sense to it. The thing went back down, and looked at Sunshine with an expression bordering on pity. 

Sunshine pushed themself back up onto their feet, being barely the same height as their cellmate, who was on all fours. 

It went back to the corner it had originally been left in, and Sunshine followed. 

When they sat down by it, it curled its tail around them. 

It took a little bit for Sunshine to look at the tail. It was a beautiful, terrible, mechanical thing. Smooth and nice. 

When their cellmate didn’t react badly, they ran their hands over it, looking at the work. It looked almost familiar, but they couldn’t place from where. 

“Miss yours?” 

That startled them. Sunshine looked over, and saw that their cellmate had curled around them more, head looming over their shoulder. 

They weren’t sure what to say. What their cellmate thought. So they just nodded, and it looked sad again. The tail thumped slightly, before settling down, letting Sunshine inspect it. 

Eventually, one of the handlers came in. They looked, frankly, terrified, and seeing Sunshine there didn’t seem to help. Sunshine wasn’t sure what was happening, or why their cellmate seemed agitated. 

Well, at least not until the strange gun the handler held was pressed to its neck, and with a ka-chunk noise, it went limp. 

The handler left. Sunshine sat there, not sure what to do. 

Eventually, they settled on sitting in front of the cellmate they had decided would be their new friend. Slowly petting its hair in the way that seemed to make it happy, and sitting still when it shook or growled in its sleep. 

It had kept them safe when they slept. They could return the favor.

A few days passed like that. Sunshine was adjusting okay to the move, and their friend had, seemingly, been slowly weaned off of the sedatives they gave it. It was nice. The two of them spent most of their time together- not that there was really much else to do. The little entertainment Sunshine had in their old cell hadn’t come with them. 

They mostly entertained themselves by listening to their friend and inspecting the metal, when it was in the mood to be inspected. 

The unspoken arrangement was that they kept each other safe. Sunshine gave their friend most of their food, and their friend growled at anyone who came in, except for the infusion team. Then, while it didn’t speak to them, it paid close attention to them when they were being hooked up.

When one slept and the other didn’t, the other would stay up and keep them safe. From what, Sunshine wasn’t sure. But it was good. It made them feel better to be able to help their friend, in the way it seemed to be protecting them. 

Their friend spoke in small, broken sentences. A voice that sounded like it would be nice laughing, or talking too loud. Maybe they could get it to that point someday.

Sunshine, for their part, didn’t speak. Well, not much. Most of the caretakers back at the old lab had heard less than ten words from them in the entire stay, and they couldn’t make themselves talk if they wanted to. Not that they wanted to. 

Sunshine wasn’t great at telling time. They couldn’t tell when it was night and when it was day, and so they slept when they were tired and stayed awake when they weren’t. The infusions and flushes probably didn’t help, with the level of brain fog they caused him. 

But they definitely knew that something was wrong when they woke up, unplugged, and alone. 

Their friend was at the other end of the room, growling. If it had fur, it would be raised. Its ears were pinned back, and it was staring at Sunshine. 

They stood up, walking over to it. Maybe that wasn’t the smartest decision, but they were worried. 

“... not him.”

What? Sunshine was confused, and their friend didn’t look much better. Its hair was messed up, pupils blown out, eyes darting around but always coming back to Sunshine. 

Sunshine had heard murmurs from the people who came to check in on them, who sometimes dragged their friend out and back in again. Read the warnings on its metal, when the letters didn’t make their head swim. Those caution warnings, which they had taken as a sign of safety, because this was their friend, were now advising them to stay away from the thing slowly stalking towards them. 

That didn’t seem to help, though. It snarled, and the metal fangs they’d inspected and that had brushed against them when it checked in were, all of a sudden, what they were meant to be.

Terrifying. 

Sunshine looked at its face again. The way it was stalking towards him. They were terrible at expressions, and most faces ended up a smudge in their mind. But they were fairly confident in their guess that under the anger in its face, it looked a little afraid. 

Afraid of them?

“Stop.” 

They were half its height. It could pick them up easily. They had come to depend on it for safety. Why did it seem afraid of them?

Sunshine didn’t have the voice to ask. They just walked forwards, reaching a shaking hand out to try and run it through their friend’s hair. That always calmed it down. 

Sunshine pulled their hand back. Okay. No touch. That was okay. 

“Not…. leave. Go. Stop lying to me.”

Sunshine can’t exactly protest that they haven’t said anything, so there’s no chance they could have lied. Instead, they slowly back away. The words are confusing, but it doesn’t seem to understand anything it’s saying either. 

“Where is he?”

Sunshine keeps backing away. 

“... not him. Wrong.”

It sounded like it was talking to itself, but the words were spoken to Sunshine. 

Before they could figure out how to ask what it was talking about, it was on top of them. Moving far faster than something that big really should, paw- hand?- on their chest, pinning them down.

The claws were sharp. They dug past the cloth, making painful red lines in their chest. 

“Get away.”

They can’t. They’re pinned down. It’s breathing heavily over them, panting like it’s terrified.

“Get away.”

Sunshine tries to push themselves away, but that just makes it worse. The other paw is over their head, and then there’s a lot of pain, and a ringing noise, and a faraway yell, and then there is quite a bit of nothing. 

Its eyes shoot open further when they groan softly, and its tail curled closer to their side. 

They come to on their back, staring at the ceiling. It’s curled around them again, and there’s a pool of blood on the floor.

Theirs, probably.

“So sorry.” 

“Sorry.”

The voice is familiar. It’s their friend’s voice, calm and soft and worried. Not like the panicked voice they’d heard before.

Sunshine feels cold. That’s weird. It’s usually a manageable temperature in here. 

Their hospital gown has been draped over them, like a makeshift blanket. There’s a very large bloody patch on it, slowly spreading.

“I can help.” It pauses, looking almost like it’s about to cry. “Fix you.” 

Sunshine watches as it circles them again, and when it stands up they can see a trail of blood across the floor. Two, actually- a smaller one that looks like it came from their head.

Oh. It’s Sunshine’s blood. That makes sense. 

It settles down, between them and the door. Like normal. They move their head so they’re looking straight up again. 

“I’ll make it okay.” A little pause. A noise. “Don’t go. Can’t  lose…” 

“Didn’t know. Confused. I’m so sorry.”

Sunshine keeps staring at the ceiling. 

It makes a noise that sounds almost frustrated. 

They stay there like that for a little while. Sunshine isn’t sure how long. Their friend mumbles names sometimes. Or words. Or apologies. 

Eventually, there’s a noise. The sound of a door opening. Footsteps, and a lot of them. 

“Get away from the project.” 

Sunshine’s friend snarls again. Not directed at them, so it’s not scary. Its tail lashes, and it rises up again. Twice Sunshine’s size. Bigger than anyone else in this room. 

Their friend growls, turning over and slowly standing up.

Sunshine turns their head to the side, seeing the legs of what look like handlers. A couple different uniforms.

When their friend stalks forwards, and they get a clearer look at some of the people, there are gasps. A “Christ.” A “Not another one.” And an “Are we sure it’s alive?” met with an “It moved, look, it’s breathing.” 

They feel safe. If anyone is going to protect them, their friend will. 

Watching it advance, Sunshine feels safe until there’s a soft yip from his friend, almost a whimper, and it falls to the floor in a giant heap. 

One of the people in the group, a member of the few in lab coats, walks up to it and kneels down to fiddle with something. 

Some of the workers run over to Sunshine, one kneeling down over them, gingerly pulling down the makeshift blanket when another worker gives them the go-ahead. 

A huge gash, in the center of their chest, and they’re losing a lot of blood from it. So deep that their intestines were visible. 

That’s not good. The sounds of horror they hear only confirms it. 

They were also covered in scratches, bruises, claw marks, and even a couple of bites. 

Out of the corner of their eye, there’s movement. It’s up again, moving, and scared. The scientist waves it over to the corner, where it makes itself look as large as possible. 

The scientist, for their part, comes to join the workers standing around them. Inspects Sunshine with a detached stare and a soft smile. They look comforting, almost pretty. That could be the blood loss, though. They have dark hair in a… ponytail? Maybe? Sunshine isn’t sure. The fluorescent lights reflect nicely off of the pearls on their glasses chains, though.

This should probably hurt. They can see their own guts. They should be screaming or something. But Sunshine feels calm. The handler kneeling over them- saying words, calling them ‘Sunny’, and they recognize the voice as the talkative one- seems incredibly concerned by that. He is, however, shut up when the one next to the scientist speaks. 

“Dog broke another one, Mal.” 

This worker doesn’t seem to be much more than mildly displeased with the whole situation. Sunshine manages to move its head to look at the thing cowering in the corner.

Is that ‘Dog’? 

That seems like a fairly plain name for something like that. Sunshine thinks, vaguely, while watching its insides be put back in, that it would name Dog something cooler. Like “Deathinator” or “Murderpaws”. 

That was the last coherent thought they had for a while. Sunshine went limp in the arms of whoever had picked him up, head lolling to the side. His vision went crossed, but he thought he could make out Dog cowering in the corner. The scientist with the long hair and the glasses chain- Mal?- was saying something to it. 

After that, it was a blur. Lots of lights. Something injected in their arm. And then another injection in their neck. 

Noises that sounded like voices. Being carried on a stretcher. At least, it felt like one. Sunshine was very horizontal. 

They faded in and out of consciousness. Most times, they woke up somewhere else. One time it was on a table, surrounded by people in surgical masks. One time, in what looked like an infusion chamber. 

Eventually, though, they started waking up in the same place. A room. It looked like the hospital rooms they’d seen on TV, with green walls and a window. There’s a makeshift infusion bay above them, which isn’t putting in any of the coloured chemicals they were used to.

The talkative worker was there sometimes. They didn’t understand any of his words. But he chatted to them. 

They aren’t sure when it is that the words started being words again.

“... I tried to tell them not to transfer you back there, you know. Big animal and all. Christ. You should have seen what he did to you. We didn’t think you were going to make it.”

They’re hooked up for a flush, this time. Make them sick, get everything out of their body. It’s not pleasant. 

“Anyways, there should be more cameras in there. I know you don’t talk, but, uh… if you ever decide to, it’d be handy. You can yell at one of the cameras if that thing mauls you again.” 

They can’t ‘decide to’. Not that they have the voice to say that. Still, Sunshine nods. That gets a smile from the worker.

Sunshine spends most of the walk back to the room not walking. They’re covered in bandages, with a large dressing around their midsection that they’ve been informed will need to be changed every two days. 

“Glad to hear it. Well. You know.” He slaps his knees, standing up and groaning slightly.

“You ready? Big day today. Still wish they’d have put you somewhere else, or sent that thing back to his original lab. But I’m no big shot, so they don’t listen to me.”

Their old hospital gown was destroyed, so someone had dressed them in a tee shirt with a logo they couldn’t currently read, pajama pants without strings, and fuzzy socks that made walking on the smooth floors difficult. Mostly, they were dragged by a few workers. 

When the door opens, Dog growls. It’s got something on it, this time, around its upper arm. Sunshine’s vision is too blurry to really tell what. 

The growling stops, however, when it sees Sunshine. Then, it’s quiet. Eerily still. The workers set them down leaning on the wall by the infusion port, and leave as quickly as they can. 

Dog comes up to them. Looks them over, eyes wide. 

Sunshine can’t deny that they’re a little afraid. But more than that, there’s instead relief. Seeing the only friend they had. Dog not being put down or taken away. A return to what Sunshine had come to consider normal.

When they’re sure that nobody but the two of them is in the room, it feels like the block in Sunshine’s throat fades away. 

They manage an exhausted smile up at Dog. 

Dog’s ears are still pinned back, and it- he, Sunshine thinks, remembering what the talkative worker said-  looks nervous. Scared. An ear flicks, and Sunshine reaches out again. Slowly gives him a pet. 

“I’m not mad at you.”

Their voice is dry. Small. Tired. Cracking slightly, from disuse. 

“... nap.” The voice comes again, and Sunshine smiles. 

Then, they’re horizontal again. The flushes aren’t pleasant, especially not ones after emergency surgery, so Sunshine isn’t sure if Dog pushed them over or if they fell.

Either way, there’s a familiar warmth surrounding them, hiding them from view by pushing into the wall. 

“Yeah, okay. Let’s take a nap.” 

[tonberry-yoda]

Hi! How about Sir Crocodile from One Piece and their hard-working secretary (somebody needs to take care of all that paperwork! xD) Headcanons or a short story. Up tp you! Thanks!

Business - Crocodile

notes - I GOT SO CARRIED AWAY! Like I have been planning on how I wanted to write this and it all clicked one day, so the planning for this fic was a lot, I'll have you know that. Literally though, thank you so much for this request, I loved it so much!! I hope you're doing well and have a super day and don't forget to stay hydrated!!! <3

word count - 1,054

When Crocodile left to go out for "business", you were left with stacks of papers, all needing a signature from him. You had completed every single one, surprisingly, and now you were so bored at your desk that you began highlighting where Crocodile needed to put his signature in brightly colored ink.

You had expected him to be back way sooner, but for three weeks now, you've been sitting in complete boredom, having to make coffee only for yourself.

He hasn't done so much as called either, which was surprising. And whenever you tried to call him, he would never pick up and your transponder snail would just stare at you with an unamused expression.

You didn't want to say that you were getting concerned for your boss, as he was a man who could more than protect himself, but still. You couldn't help but hope that he was doing alright.

Well, if you were being fully honest with yourself, you were getting really worried. Almost in panic mode. If Crocodile was ever out this long, he would always make sure to call or send someone to tell you that he was okay, but you haven't heard a single word from anyone and it was eating away at you.

So, as a normal, and perfectly sane secretary, you slipped on a long jacket, put all of the paperwork into your bag, and went after Crocodile.

Did you know where he was? No. He had given you a small idea of where he could be, so you took that as enough and left.

And quickly, you regretted your decision.

Crocodile had told you that he wasn't going to be more than one island over, so you took a boat and ended up on a small island. And you had no clue where you were.

You thought it was a remote island, with nothing more than a couple of small cabins and fishermen, but when you travelled further, you ended up in not just any small town, but a whole city.

It was filled to the brim with people. People from everywhere, too. There were Marines, pirates, gamblers, bounty hunters, and dozens of other people you didn't feel like getting to know more than a glance.

You looked so out of place, wearing your work clothes of only a button up and slacks, while others around you looked like mafia bosses and dressed like they were going to a ball or something.

If Crocodile is here, you thought, sighing. He's probably got his ass arrested.

That, and he was probably going to be impossible to find.

You didn't want to ask anyone, since he was a literal wanted man everywhere he went, and you didn't want to go around calling his name out either.

He was a former warlord, who wouldn't recognize the name Crocodile?

You felt so lost in the city after what felt like hours, and it probably was, seeing as the sun was beginning to set.

"Dammit, Croc," you muttered under your breath. "Where the hell are you?"

When you got to the other side of the city, you decided to take a seat to try to get your bearings. This side was less chaotic, even if it was still full of people being a marketplace and all, so that was nice.

You took some deep breaths and tried to think if you were Crocodile, where would you be.

Probably in jail.

Dammit Crocodile.

You buried your face in your hands and immediately heard a familiar voice.

"I'll take six of those, please."

Your head immediately shot up and you smiled.

That son of a bitch.

The vendor handed Crocodile a bag of assorted fruits and you ran over to the former warlord, pulling him into a nearby, and surprisingly empty alleyway.

You laughed when you saw the veil that covered his face to hide his scar. You probably saw that bastard seven and a half times and didn't notice.

"y/n?" He tilted his head. "What are you doing here?"

"Making sure your ass was okay." you told him, poking his chest to emphasize your point.

He chuckled and shook his head. "I'm fine."

"Well I know that now! I wish you would've called or something, though."

"Sorry." he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I've just been really busy."

"It's fine." You lightly shook your head and got a good look at the man in front of you. "You know, you look pretty handsome like that. Good way of hiding."

"Thanks." he chuckled. "So, was that all you needed? Just to see if I was fine."

"Nope," you said slyly, opening your bag to reveal the giant stack of paper that needed his signature. "I brought work."

"Oh boy. Well, let's go back to my hotel room, then. Sorry again about not calling. How was the ride here?"

"Not bad," you admitted, pulling your bag over your shoulder and following Crocodile through the crowd of people, which was pretty easy considering how tall he was and very easy to spot. You still couldn't believe that you didn't find him sooner. "Finding you was the hard part."

"Sorry about that, too. I was planning on going back soon and even calling, but I've just been so full of work that I guess I forgot."

"I understand. And by work, you mean hiding from these Marines, right?" You gestured to piles of Marine officers getting drunk and shouting random numbers over a gambling table.

"Don't say that so loud!" Crocodile hissed before shaking his head and leading you into a small building.

You two were greeted by the hotel staff and you two quickly made it to his room. This island was so fancy, how have you never heard of it, let alone been here?

"So why did you come here?" you asked Crocodile, running your finger over a cabinet, no dust coming off at all.

"I needed to see an old friend."

"I'm guessing you're not going to tell me who that old friend is?"

"Nope." he chuckled, taking a seat on his bed, finally able to free his face from the veil. "Do you have a pen with you, y/n?"

You pulled out the giant stack of paper and three pens with a bright smile on your face. "Always!"

~~~~~

one piece masterlist | pinned post

2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

[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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[fluffypotatey]

watching Leverage: ep 4

GOOD MORNING!

i actually meant to watch this episode last night but my sleepy brain said otherwise lol

Pre-game Thoughts:

also thank you everyone in the Leverage fandom who has given me such a warm welcome! y'all are so sweet and i feel like i'm being mothered by older cousins lol. i didn't expect this to gain a lot of ppl's attention, just a couple mutuals but hello!!! welcome to the show that y'all are vicariously watching through me or rewatching!

ok so turns out last episode we delved more into character backstory AND the overarching plot

Eliot was a farm-boy before getting becoming a bruiser, and i don't know why that is so funny to me (yes i do). my only question is when did he decide to go into that kind of business. was he an underground boxer or something? did he move to the city to "make a name for himself" but instead got into the mafia or something?

out of all the characters, this man is the one i want to know more about just because he never explains himself. oh, he recognized the fighting style of that mercenary? how sir??? oh you've been in this business for some time? how long sir????

this big insurance company is definitely the big bad. if they are the ones that our crew faces in the season's finale, i wouldn't be shocked. i would a little disappointed because these guys seem more like a s3 type of big bad that you build and build for some more seasons.

the actor who plays sterling is so familiar to me. i feel like i've seen him but he looked older than now. was he in spn? i think he was. i don't watch spn, but i've seen enough gifs to know the cast.

i've talked long enough, on with the show!

spoilers incoming lol

fluffy's reactions!

i haven't even clicked play yet WHY IS ALEC WEARING YELLOW??? LMAO HE LOOKS LIKE THE BANANA HAT GUY FROM CURIOUS GEORGE

THE CLERGY???? oh wait no this is about city council corruption. a little disappointed, but this concept is still interesting

the children trying so hard to compliment sophie about her play. i think parker was genuine tho and she deserves a gold star

nathan trying his best to compliment the play lol "a beautiful rendition!" he keeps it vague enough to ensure there's nothing bad well done

OH??? THE EX WIFE IS COMING IN??? DON'T WORRY SOPHIE EVERYTHING WILL BE OK

"what are you doing?" asks the priest suspiciously. "just....uh, moving God's plan along...faster." nice save there nathan

awwww he didn't need to ask them this time to help out

when i say sophie and nathan are in love, i mean it because do you see how soft they are for each other????

alec already with the presentation board about which corporation they're hitting next before nathan needs to ask him my heart! he's already narrowed it down and even knew just what to say, my little prepared computer nerd

ok i know alec's the guy who has more of the comedic lines but don't think i haven't been noticing that his aversions to certain places or people are little holes into his backstory (or maybe not and i'm looking into this too hard but who would i be if i didn't)

"i don't do gangs" that is a short little line but has a a lot of untapped backstory in it i can FEEL IT

very sweet of eliot to just figuratively drag alec with him to get info on the gang who beat up the priest

his son was baptised there T^T ok ok we hitting at nathan's backstory today got it

sophie picking up nathan's distress immediately NOBODY TOUCH ME

well whata you know, i guess it can be that easy to find the gang you're looking for

"how's this for answer" *shows gun* i'm so sorry i chuckled. that's so corny i'm sorry. i would get shot by that man if he did that because i would not stop laughing

YEAH THAT'S MY BOY ALEC SHOVE THAT BITCH

i forgot about the dislocated shoulder lmao

"do you mind?" OOP LITTLE DUDE'S IN DEEP SHIT WITH HIS GANG so the corp enlisted just a lackey from the gang and not the whole....interesting (also their mistake it seems)

ah this grant dude has a stick up his ass

ALEC'S FACE AT PARKER DEAD

ooooooh his publicist?

Tomas talking about his old neighborhood and then grant slamming on it NOOOOOO you hurt my boy

omfg he got yelled at by a nun they're ruthless i tell you

alec my boy "you're catholic and you want to fake a miracle?" i'm DEAD i'll have you know that good intentions are very important

eliot immediately on board with shooting the statue with a paintball gun after saying he thought the idea of the statue bleeding was dumb

AH sophie and nathan heart to heart T^T "you were the good guy...that's what made it fun" "i was...tempted" SEE THIS IS WHAT I MEANT BY DON'T TELL ME BUT ALSO TELL ME

she gonna wait for him T^T "but not for too long" LIES SOPHIE

OOOOOOH TOURIST TRAP

GRANT IS DOING WHAT I THINK HE'S DOING

NO I WAS JOKING ABOUT THE TOURIST TRAP

TOMAS'S FACE

THE VATICAN?????

i love fr. paul. he's so mad lmao

wow we really getting into it

tomas i love you, i'm so glad

FUCKING SHIT I WAS FOLLOWING THE CONGREGATION

"a reading of the Gospel according to Luke" me: "glory to you oh lord---SHIT"

see, this is why i keep my thoughts to myself with a priest because they will use in in their homilies.

WHAT A TWIST

TOMAS MY BOY

ok but saint nick is santa claus tho

he is also the patron saint of prostitutes

general thoughts:

i really thought this episode would center on the clergy and all of that, but that's a too big topic to even cover for one episode. not to mention that that issue covers more than the US and i don't think the leverage crew will go international with their heisting yet.

and this did a great job covering how a lot of poorer communities get screwed over by bigger corporations seeking to expand their commercial empire. ALSO how most of their issues comes with underfunded infrastructure that local governments ignore, giving those corporations such a "great" reason to state their case on why those buildings/neighborhoods should be torn down.

AND it even touched on how quickly things that should be considered marvels are so easily commercialized in this day and age. grant was so ready to turn that church into the next disneyland which 1) is sacrilegious and 2) is such a shallow view on miracles. but hey, that's what US brands have done with Christmas soooooooo it wouldn't be surprising to see someone try to do that with a crying statue.

we even get the discussion of intention vs action because THAT is a hot topic in the Catholic community. do the ends justify the means? do the means justify the ends? and while they kind of leave that question in the air for the audience to decide for themselves, it kind of ends with the episode leaning more on the intention's side. Father Paul broke his vow and revealed what he knew when Nathan confessed because he felt that it was the right thing to do (intention: do right by his church and conscience; action: break the vow of silence a priest makes for confessionals). Our band of thieves framed Grant in order to keep the church's integrity and save the neighborhood. Both acts are considered bad, but both were done with the intention to do good.

so yeah, it was a fun episode, my ot3 trio are going strong. and i can't wait for more!

[chxncinth]

illogical

pairing: ceo!chan x rival ceo!reader 

genre: smut

description: seeing chan’s company surpass your company made you feel a type of anger you weren’t familiar with. you had always gotten everything you wanted and now you fell short of it, so you felt the need to show and prove to chan that you were still better no matter what. you headed to his house to talk to him, not at all expecting what was about to happen.

warnings: oral (male and female receiving), choking, sir kink, rough sex, ice play, use of safe words

wc: 4.9k

notes: whoo this took such a long time! this is the first time i've ever tried writing this much smut so i hope people like it 😭 please like, reblog, and leave comments! it would mean the world to me <3

a loud slam of the door made you look up from your monitor.

“seriously? what the hell did that guy do?”

your eyebrows furrowed together as you looked at your very obviously frustrated secretary. catching onto your confusion, jeongin handed you the papers in his hands.

“look for yourself.”

you quickly scanned them, eyes widening in disbelief. 

“what the fuck?! how did this even happen?!” to say you were angry would be a serious understatement. you were livid. 

you had always gotten everything you had ever wanted, be it a company that you were interested in or the newest luxury car in the market.

but now? you were beaten by someone. and that someone was bang chan out of everyone it could have been. 

standing up and grabbing your purse and coat, you stormed past jeongin, shoving the papers into his chest. he ran after you, trying his best to keep up with your angry stride. 

your heels clicked sharply against the tiles and caused the heads of the few employees remaining at this late hour to turn your way. jeongin bowed apologetically towards them and continued after you.

you pressed the button to the elevator and turned to look at jeongin.

“i’m going to his house to give him a little talk. don’t come with me. finish up your work and head home. i also want you to send out an email to all employees giving them the next week off. this quarter was hell for all of us,” you sent him a small smile but your eyes shined with anger. 

jeongin looked concerned, after all he was your best friend. 

“but y/n…”

you shushed him as the doors to the elevator opened and you stepped in.

“don’t worry about me innie. i’ll be fine. if anything goes south i can just kick his balls.”

jeongin laughed at that, telling you to call him afterwards as the doors closed.

he really hoped that you’d be fine.

-

tossing your belongings into the passenger seat as you got into your car, you huffed out in frustration. 

‘fucking bang chan. that pain in the ass.’

you started the car and headed off in the direction of his company, the way there basically branded into your brain. after all, you frequented it for the longest time. 

as you reached your destination, you found that the building was closed. sighing in frustration, you got back in your car.

really, you should have just given up and gone back home. but no, you were stubborn and you weren’t going to give up until you actually talked to him in-person.

so you headed to his house.

you passed the gate easily as the guard recognized your car and let you through with no questions.

his property was just as you remembered, dark, spacious, and foreboding. the only change was that there was a garden in front.

you parked and stepped out of your car, deciding to leave your coat and purse inside since you wouldn’t be there long.

as you walked to the entrance, your brain screamed at you to stop. memories of the last time you were here were thrown at you nonstop and you had to physically force yourself to get to the door and ring the bell.

the electronic panel stayed dark for a few seconds until the face of a maid popped up.

“may i help you?” she said, squinting slightly. 

“i’m here to talk to chan regarding work? i’m y/n.”

her eyes lit up in realization at the mention of  your name. there was no doubt that the workers gossiped about you and the scene that occurred back then.

the maid pressed a button and you heard a click.

the door opened automatically and she rushed towards you from around the corner, bowing.

“please wait in the sitting room for a moment while i call mr. bang,” she told you with a smile as you took off your heels and slipped on a pair of house slippers.

you nodded and made your way there, sitting down on the plush couch.

you looked around a noticed that nothing at all had changed, not even a single decoration. then you noticed it in the corner of your eye.

getting up, you headed towards the little corner table that had various framed pictures on it. and one of those pictures just happened to be back when you and chan were on good terms.

it was a picture of you and him as high schoolers during your annual trip to singapore. the both of you sporting beautiful smiles on your faces except you were looking at the camera while chan stared at you with what could only be described as a lovestruck gaze. 

you bristled at the fact that the picture was still here after seven months, expecting him to definitely remove everything about you in his house. 

“that picture is my absolute favorite one of us.”

you turned abruptly at the voice, seeing him walking into the room. even after so long of not seeing chan, you weren’t surprised all that much that he still took your breath away.

he wore navy blue silk pajamas that looked extremely familiar to you. as he got closer, you realized that they were the ones you gifted him on his birthday.

“you still wear those?” you asked, scoffing slightly and wondering how he had the audacity to after what he had done to you.

looking down at himself, he smiled softly. 

“yeah, they’re my favorite too.”

it was silent as the two of you took in the sight of each other for the first time in seven months.

his face had gotten sharper and his eyes harder. as usually, you weren’t able to read his emotions easily. they were closely  guarded.

he broke out of his daze first and stepped forward again.

“why are you here?” he asked you bluntly.

the glare that you had been sporting up until you came here was back again and your arms crossed automatically.

“i’m here because of your profit this quarter. how in the world did you manage to increase it by 38%? that’s practically impossible.”

chan chuckled, the uncomfortable atmosphere increasing tenfold within a second. but you weren’t sure if the feeling up in the air was hate or something else that you’d rather not acknowledge. 

“so you’re here because you can’t stand someone else being better than you?”

“no, i’m here because i want to know how you got ahead of my company. i’m obviously better than you are and we’ve seen that for the past how many years now?” you cocked up your eyebrow.

his eyes became darker, a shimmer of what you believed was annoyance flashing before it was gone as fast as it came and his eyes were blank.

“it’s called working hard sweetheart,” he said as he brushed past you towards his office. you scoffed and followed after him.

“you have some nerve coming here after ghosting me for seven months,” he said to you as you were closing the double doors behind you.

“i have nerve? last i remembered, it was you who cheated on me by fucking my little sister.”

chan’s eyebrows furrowed together as he dragged a hand down his face lightly. “you broke up with me and ignored me like the plague because of that? how many times do i need to tell you to not believe baseless rumors?”

you were furious. how could he even say that? had he no shame?

“well chan, i can tell you that i don’t believe in baseless rumors because i saw this with my own eyes.”

“and pray tell, what exactly did you see?”

you faltered at his obvious confidence and grew smaller. his arms were crossed lightly as he sat back in chair, sporting a slight smirk. the pajamas stretched dangerously across his broad shoulders and for a second you thought the material would rip.

“well, i guess i didn’t really see anything as much as heard, but still! the noises i heard are enough proof!”

chan got up and walked around his desk, coming to stand right in front of you. you flinched slightly as his hand reached out and softly grabbed your chin, tilting it up so that you would meet his eyes.

“proof you say? well, what if you knew that i was in my room with your sister so i could plan out what to do for what would have been our fifth anniversary? oh, and if you remember, that same room has a fucking massage chair in it.”

it was as if a lightbulb slowly went off in your brain. 

your eyes widened in surprise as you instinctively moved away from him. turning around you quickly went over to the doors, prepared to make a run for it and do what you do best: avoid the situation you’re faced with.

but wiggling the doorknob simply led to more frustration and embarrassment as the doors seemed to be locked.

“why the hell aren’t these stupid doors opening!?” you said, lightly kicking them.

chan chuckled softly behind you and you heard his footsteps coming closer. gulping nervously, you let your head drop so that you looked at the floor.

“there’s something known as ‘automatic locks’ baby. i just pressed a button right after you came in here. and god, explaining that whole thing was a lot harder than it should have been.”

you turned and stared at him. his chocolate brown eyes seemed to suck you in and it took you a moment to remember what you wanted to say.

“l-let me go chan. i have things i need to do,” you said, trying your best to show some sort of confidence despite stuttering.

the man brought his hand up and softly traced the outline of your face.

“you still have quite a bit of attitude, don’t you babygirl? i think we need to fix that before you can go,” his hand traveled down to your waist and pulled you closer so that your lips were barely touching. his breath caressed your lips and you felt the urge to collapse and let the man in front of you take care of you as he used to— but you stood straight and looked right back at him. 

“you wanted to know how my quarter’s profit was higher than yours so here’s the first thing: i’m not stuck-up like you.”

and with that, his lips were on yours. they were bruising, the force with which he was kissing you being one that you had become quite accustomed to while you were dating each other. you were slightly stunned for a second before you kissed back just as passionately, pushing the small piece of hesitance back into the corner of your brain.

your hands crept their way up to entangle themselves in his hair, pulling on the strands lightly causing chan to let out a soft groan into the kiss. 

“god princess,” he said when he pulled away slightly. “i missed you so much.”

“yeah, well i didn’t.” you looked at him defiantly, not wanting him to know of the effect he had on you. but you were aware that he knew you and your body better than yourself. “and there are other people in this house.”

chan picked you up easily, lightly spanking your butt and eliciting a soft moan from you. he walked in long strides and dropped you down onto the plush grey couch in his office.

“such a brat,” he hissed as his fingers went back to tracing your form.  “i dismissed them as soon as i knew you came here.”

you back arched into him as his hand trailed behind you to fiddle with the zipper of your skirt. 

“is this ok y/n?” he whispered against your lips, making sure before he moved forward. after all, no matter how much he wanted you, he would never do anything without your permission. 

you looked up at him, staring into his bottomless eyes. and you were surprised because for the first time, you could read him effortlessly.

his eyes held nothing but affection for you, and you could see that he worried that he was overstepping your boundaries. that was enough for you to make up your mind.

you smiled and pulled him into you by his neck, kissing him slowly. it was a stark contrast to how rough you had been treated right before but chan lost himself in you.

“it’s ok chan. do whatever you want to me.”

“whatever i want?”

his eyes hardened over with lust, smirking as he pulled the zipper down, helping you take the piece of clothing off. you shivered slightly as the cold air hit your bare skin.

you inhaled softly when his finger slipped underneath your blouse and started to dance across your stomach. taking a second to compose yourself, you opened your eyes and looked up at chan.

“i just have one question. why do you still want me? didn’t i hurt you?”

chan hummed as he moved to remove your blouse. you lifted up your arms to make it easier for him. 

“you did but you’re also just irresistible baby.” his lips came down and grazed your collarbone. “that, and i know that you didn’t mean to hurt me. you’re just a little slow.”

as soon as he said that, he started to suck harshly and leave behind marks for you to remember him by. your eyes closed with the pleasure, any comeback to his words that you had dying on the tip of your tongue. his hand wandered down to your panties and you gasped softly as he finally, finally, slipped a finger into your folds, slowly dragging a digit down and spreading your arousal.

you were too far gone by now to be even the slightest bit embarrassed by how wet you were by him simply kissing you. 

“but i think you still need to make it up to me since you were so insensitive,” he said as a smirk took over his features. “hands above your head head. now.”

your hands immediately followed his orders, knowing that there was no way you would have forgotten what he had conditioned you to do.

chan chuckled at how easily you listened as he got up and went behind his desk. opening a drawer, he grabbed a spare tie. your eyes widened in refusal and you whined lowly, not wanting your hands to be tied so you couldn’t touch him. 

tutting, chan closed the drawer and walked back, using his hands to press your hips into the couch.

“oh baby, you know brats like you don’t get to have a choice. be good and take it,” he said lowly, tying your wrists together and looping the tie around the leg of a corner table.

“channie—“ you were cut off by a harsh slap to your thigh. it burned in the best way possible and your back arched as a long, drawn-out moan came out against your will.

“god, you get off on me spanking you, huh? you’re just a slut who loves the pain,” he said harshly, eyes glinting with unspoken desire and a need to fucking ruin you.

whining, you struggled against the restraints, wanting to run your hands down chan’s body.

but he simply chuckled and began unbutton his shirt, slowly revealing his chiseled torso. your whines increased as you stared hazily at his abs, feeling the need to do nothing more than to touch him at that moment and for the rest of eternity.

chan discarded the piece of fabric and leaned down. he teased you as he brushed his lips oh-so-lightly against yours, hands moving to deftly unhook your bra and throw it on the floor.

his sinful lips attached themselves to your breasts and he kissed and sucked the skin there as if he had been starved. your whines increased in volume and you strained against the tie binding your arms together.

“chan—“ you whispered breathlessly, opening your eyes to look down at the head of blonde.

“no. that’s not my name brat. and especially not for someone of the likes of you.”

his glare could have frozen your blood if given the chance but you didn’t give it that. looking away immediately, you whispered to him, “sir…”

he grinned, teeth on display as his hand gripped your neck, tugging harshly to make you look at him.

“look at me when you address me.”

so you looked at him.

“i want you in me sir.”

you were met with another slap and this one hurt. a lot.

tears prickled at the corner of your eyes and fell over.

“do you really think you can order me around like that?” scoffing, chan grabbed onto the hem of your panties and seamlessly ripped the lace into two pieces, leaving you completely naked in front of him.

“you really think after the shit you’ve pulled, what with you ignoring me for so long, i’ll listen to you? give you that pleasure of spoiling you like i used to when you were mine?”

his hands spread your legs apart for him and he immediately thrust two fingers into you, sending your mind spiraling.  

“well, i guess that’s not right because you’re still mine. you probably got off every night thinking about me fucking you. probably imagined that the people fucking you were me,” he said nonchalantly as he drove his fingers into you so deep that he hit your g-spot repeatedly. you knew he was correct and your moans increased in volume as you squirmed around, the pleasure almost unbearable. 

“s-sir…please…” you gasped breathlessly. 

“please what babygirl? only two fingers and you can’t even string your words together. how pathetic,” he practically growled at you as you while thrusting another into you. 

“god,” you said as your eyes rolled back into your head. the feeling of chan’s fingers stretching you out was something you had thought about constantly over the past few months and now that you had them in you, you felt unbelievably complete.

he then abruptly pulled out, leaving you whining at the emptiness. 

“sir—“ 

he interrupted you by harshly showing his fingers into your mouth. 

“suck,” he commanded. you followed his order without hesitance, also remembering how much you love the feeling of his fingers in your mouth.

he removed them, resulting in a small ‘pop’ to echo throughout the office, and stood up. brushing your hair back, he leaned close and pressed his lips to yours lightly. 

“stay still. i’ll be back soon.”

and he was gone after clicking a remote and walking out the doors, leaving you to be alone with your own thoughts.

your mind was going crazy. chan had gotten  bigger in the time you hadn’t seen him, and you could only imagine that it applied to every part of his body. 

a shudder of pleasure and fear passed through your body at the thought of taking him in after so long. sure, you had sex in between, but everyone you fucked were extremely underwhelming compared to chan. honestly speaking, barely anyone made you orgasm unless you imagined that they were him.

eyes closed, you pulled up memories of chan’s cock, remembering how he had both length and girth, along with a slight curve. he always filled you up to the brim, leaving no room in your head to think about anything other than pleasure.

your thoughts made you so wet to the point you started to drip onto the couch. writhing around, you tried your best to divert your attention to anything but the ever consuming heat between your legs.

“sir, sir, sir—“ you whimpered as you ultimately failed and started thrusting up into the air, as if that would make chan come back faster to pleasure you.

“well would you look at that babygirl? begging for sir and making such a mess of my furniture? you’re so fucking hot.”

a gasp came out of you as his fingertips trailed over your stomach. you arched up into him, uttering incoherent words as you tried to plead him to touch you properly.

“forgot how sensitive you are baby. i missed it,” he said as he pulled a silk blindfold from his pocket. he tied it around your eyes, and you whimpered more, now having to solely rely on your senses of hearing and touch to figure out chan’s next move (not that you really would be able to even without being restrained since he was quite unpredictable). 

he chuckled and leaned down to kiss your lips, trailing his kisses down to your breast. he licked your nipple softly and then bit it, making you thrash around until he put his hand on your hips to stop you.

“sir, please…” you breathed out.

“you said i could do anything, didn’t you?”

you hesitated for a moment before nodding. 

“words sweetheart,” he said getting up. you heard him take a few steps away from you and the sound of his mini fridge opening.

“…yes sir.”

he hummed lowly and after a few seconds of silence, you gasped as you felt a sharp coldness on your torso.

you writhed at the new and unexpected temperature. the coldness moved down further and further until it was ghosting over your clit before it was removed.

chan chuckled above you and you could only imagine how desperate you looked as he traced ice along your body. he leaned down and licked the trail of water left by it while holding your hips down in place.

“god, you’re a fucking masterpiece,” he muttered under his breath, continuing to lick the remaining water while listening to your moans which were slowly increasing in volume.

it was when he got down to your clit that he placed a soft kiss on it before starting to suck.

you screamed at the sharp pleasure that came with his actions, tears coming out of your eyes with how turned on you were.

“sir please—“ you heaved as he spread your legs wider, his tongue moving down to lick at your hole. “hurts!”

“such a slut just for me aren’t you? want my cock so bad—“ a kiss was placed on your inner thigh. “—you cant even speak properly.”

a mix of words left your mouth as he sucked on the soft flesh of your thigh, leaving a bright red mark.

chan stood up, sliding his pants and boxers down in one go as he positioned himself in front of your entrance.

“color?”

“green, sir,” you breathed out.

he pushed in with no warning and started to fuck you without giving you time to adjust.

the sheer size of him was unfamiliar and familiar at the same time, and your body did a double take.

“chan!” a moan ripped from your throat and he thrusted harder.

“sir,” he said between breaths. “and i didn’t tell my fucktoy to speak did i? you’re going to be quiet and take it.”

you couldn’t see anything but you could feel the glint in his eyes as he looked down at your body, arms tied and eyes blindfolded, all while being fucked to the edge of your sanity. 

you tried your best to not make noises but that proved to be quite hard as chan increased his pace and even leaned down to circle your nipple with his tongue, hand reaching out to give attention to your other breast.

both of your moans and groans increased as you approached your highs. chan’s hand came out to wrap around your neck and he squeezed.

“i didn’t allow you to come yet whore,” he said as he choked you harder. “you don’t get to come until i say so.”

a sound of surprise escaped your lips and you arched your back as he rubbed circles on your clit.

“sir fuck please please i wanna cum i need to—“

chan ignored your string of garbled pleads and looked down at the sight of his length disappearing into your hole. he growled lowly as he tightened his grip around your neck.

“if you think you’re going to get the pleasure of feeling your release this early on, you’re sadly mistaken babygirl. you’re nothing but a cumdump for me tonight so act like it and if i think you deserve it, maybe i’ll let you cream around my cock.”

and it all continued since your body was still used to his commands, not daring to let go until allowed. 

he finished inside of you and swiftly untied your hands as he hoisted you up, only to press your back against the wall and fuck his cum into you.

it was only after he came again and was preparing to bend you over his desk for a third round, that you spoke due to the pain of how overstimulated you were.

“chan…” you whispered hoarsely, purposefully calling him by his name in the hopes that he would figure out that something was wrong. “stop…”

but you were mistaken because he only slapped your ass sharply, spreading your legs and thrusting back into your swollen and abused hole. 

you screamed at the feeling, and tears streamed down your face as your body was too used to put up with it any longer. he was too far gone.

“red!”

chan’s hips stilled as he took a second to register what you said. his eyes then widened as he pulled out quickly and stepped away.

“baby? i’m so sorry,” he said, trying to put space in between the two of you.

you walked over to him and wrapped you arms around his torso as you tried to regulate your breathing.

“i’m fine,” you mumbled through deep breaths and sniffles, tightening your arms as much as you could in your current state.

chan led you to the couch, sitting down. looking down at him, you sat down and straddled him. your head then dropped down into the crook of his neck as you sought after the comfort that only he seemed to provide you. 

he stayed still, not wanting to move and possibly hurt you any further. 

god, chan felt despicable. you could feel that much simply by being close to him. and knowing how his personality is, he was probably beating himself up about how he ignored your signs of discomfort in return for his own pleasure.

you looked up and pressed a chaste kiss to his jawline.

“i really am fine love. i just need time to gather my energy.”

he was as stiff as a plank of wood beneath you, arms limp at his side. 

“but still…” he said, staring blankly at the wall. “i ignored you and i hurt you.”

you put your hands on either side of his face and turned him to meet your eyes.

“and i gave you permission to do whatever you wanted with the knowledge that if i said that one word when i felt uncomfortable, you would immediately stop.”

you sighed deeply at his regret-filled eyes.

“do you want to take a bath?” he asked. “maybe that will make you feel better?”

you nodded slowly and he picked you up, refusing to let you walk by yourself. 

he went upstairs and into the bathroom, setting you down on his empty dressing table while he filled the tub.

you giggled softly at the sight of him.

“your ass is cute,” you said, as he added bath salt to the  water.

“y/n!” he said, whipping around with an indignant look on his face.

“it’s true!” 

chan grumbled softly as he turned back, but you could see the tips of his bright red ears.

“i think it’s ready?” chan said, swirling the water to test the temperature one more time.

you stood up at his words, wincing slightly at the pain that shot up through your lower body. walking over to the tub, you slowly stepped in and lowered yourself until you were sitting.

“is it ok?“ chan asked, looking down at you.

“it would be better if you got in, you know.”

chan flushed and looked away.

“are you sure? i wouldn’t want to invade your space more than i already have,” he said.

you frowned and reached for his hand.

“chan, it’s ok. you didn’t do anything wrong so please just get in the damn bathtub,” you said sternly, somewhat tired of having to constantly reassure him.

he relented and stepped in, sitting down so he faced you. a smile made its way onto his face as he felt the warm water around him.

“this feels pretty nice,” he said, staring the water.

“come here,” you beckoned, grabbing a bottle of body wash and pumping some out.

chan scooted over towards you and smiled as you took his arm, applying the product on it.

“i missed this,” you whispered softly, tracing a heart on his skin. you then brought his arm up to your lips and kissed it.

chan’s heartbeat increased as the tips of his ears turned reds.

“then let’s never stop it.”

you looked up and met his eyes.

“never again,” you said, moving forward to kiss to his lips.

chan held your back softly as he reciprocated your affection.

“i love you y/n,” he said when the two of you separated for air and his arm came up to tuck your hair behind your ear.

your smile stretched from ear to ear, pink dusting your cheeks from the warmth of the bath tub and the man in front of you.

“i love you too chan.”

[kewltie]

"Katsuki!"

A loud bellow echoes through the hall of the house, yanking Izuku's attention from his reading. He looks up just in time to see a young woman in pink storming in. It's a familiar face that he recognizes well from TV and numerous headlines.

"What did I hear about you getting a lesser?!" Ashido Mina demands. With hands on her hip and looking like something fierce, the number 36th Hero Pinky is truly a sight to see.

Izuku quickly runs through the data he had collected in his head of what he knows of her: quirk, acid; grade, A; and class, 5. An upper caste member of society, providing high value application with her quirk. Izuku has seen her photos plastered all over the news, alongside other fame heroes like Katsuki. In another world, he could almost let himself imagine he was among them too.

Katsuki clicks his tongue in annoyance, stops washing the dishes and removes his gloves. He casts aside his apron before turning around and walking toward the intruder. "I didn't give you the fucking code to my house so you can just barge in anytime you want," he scolds. "Have some fucking manners, Raccoon Eyes."

The earlier flurry of energy from her deflates, but she still doesn't appear to be happy with him. "Where is he?" she says instead. "Where are you hiding the lesser in your possession?"

"You mean him?" He cocks his head toward Izuku, who’s been quietly sitting on the couch watching them the entire time.

Izuku smiles shyly at her and gives a small wave from where he's sitting, but he dares not approach them and disturb their conversation. Katsuki looks at him with a frown before gesturing with his hand for Izuku to come forward.

"C'mere," he instructs, and that's all the permission Izuku need.

He closes his book and tentatively moves toward them. Pulling to a stop right beside Katsuki, Izuku gives Ashido a slight bow.

"Hello, Pinky-sama," he greets, perfectly cordial and with the right inflection of respect in his tone. "I'm Izuku from the Academy." He doesn't give her his last name. It no longer matters. It hasn’t for a long time now.

He hears her make a choking noise that sound like a rock has lodge itself in her throat. "Please don't bow to me," she says urgently. "And you can call me Ashido or Mina if you like. I don't mind it either way!"

"Ashido-sama," he corrects himself as he slowly raises his head.

He’s aware that she’s a friend of Katsuki but years of training is hard to undo. He’s always cautious of how he presents himself, because one wrong move and he could be sent back to the Academy. Trade out for a better lesser. A more obedient and useful one. It has happened before.

Ashido gives him an encouraging smile, but he could feel the heat of her gaze trains on his neck the entire time, trying to see something that isn't there right now. Something heavy, thick and encasing. A PET collar. Instead, hidden under his one of his pants legs, it sits delicately on his ankle disguised as a jewelry.

“So you’re Katsuki’s new lesser,” she comments. It sounds stiff and terse.

“Yes, ma’am,” he answers, his sense of danger prickling at the back of his head. It feels like something is going to go wrong very, very soon.  

Then with eyes blazing, she directs her ire toward Katsuki instead. "Do you realize what you've done?!" she demands, jabbing a finger at Katsuki's chest. "This is even insensitive for you! You can't be that obtuse to think you can get away with it!"

Face pinched, Katsuki slaps her hand away from his person and huffs. "What the fuck is riding up your ass this morning?"

"Sorry, if I sound a little upset when I heard that one of my best friends bought another human being without me knowing!" Ashido hisses, knuckles going white.

Even though Ashido is clearly angry at Katsuki and not him, Izuku takes a step slightly behind Katsuki. He's trained to be perceptive to the mood of the people around him to deescalate the tense situation and make sure he'll not be bearing the consequence of it. It's a safety measure.

Katsuki doesn't even react to Izuku's pressing himself close to him now, their shoulders casually bumping against each other. "What was I supposed to do," he snarls back at her. "Let some rat ass bastard buy him instead of me?"

"We could have figure something out! You know I’m part of ERA!" Ashido argues. "Have ever consider how it'll look that the top hero of our country is now a part of the lessers ownership initiative? If this get out to the general public, they're going to take it as you endorsing the program and you’re going to be their new poster boy. As your friend how can I stand by and let your name be used like that?" she demands, shaking her head.

Izuku has heard of the group call ERA, Equality for All, and its mission to see beyond the emphasis on a quirk base classification of their society, spreading the idea that they’re all equal and deserve a fair chance. They're on the lower end of the government's watchlist and the Academy considers them a nuisance at best compare to the home-grown terrorist groups like LION, Lesser Rights Coalition, that threatens to completely dismantle the Quirk Index System that judge every citizen living in the country how their quirk should be graded and which caste they fall under.

So, he's not only surprise that Ashido is part of ERA especially given her public image and high caste, but that Katsuki is also a friend of hers.

It makes him wonder what has changed for Katsuki after they were separated more than a decade ago? They both had grown up and grown apart, into wholly different people, belonging to different caste now. One is a top-ranking hero of the country and the other is a bound lesser. With a highly rated quirk, Katsuki now represents their country as a pro-hero like they both had dreamed of, but he also seems different now. Less angry and arrogant. Even when he's arguing with Ashido, there seem to be an ease in which they speak to each other as though whatever said they won’t hold it against each other personally.

The Katsuki he knows was always surrounded by people, but also so terribly alone at the same time. He kept everyone else at a distance, even Izuku, and doesn’t let anyone through his walls. There was no one special to him. He was indifference to all, but maybe that was no longer the case anymore. Ashido has free access to Katsuki’s home, and they appear close. In the past that would have been an unimaginable scenario. Maybe he has really changed, maybe Izuku doesn’t know him anymore. Or ever at all.

"I wasn't going to leave it to chance," Katsuki snaps, eyes going cold and dark. "I just found him and I won't lose him again."

Startled by the intensity of Katsuki's tone, Ashido's eyes go wide. "Found him? Is he—" Her eyes are falls on Izuku. "A-are you Deku? Katsuki's Deku?"

Izuku nods. Slowly. Unsure. Like he's missing a piece of the puzzle here and nobody is willing to help him find it.

The corner of her lips tug upward as her face relaxes into a smile of relief. "So, you're Katsuki's white whale," she says, which only confuses him even more.

Izuku's brows furrow, looking at Katsuki pointedly. "White whale?" he asks, tugging at Katsuki's sleeve. "What did she mean by that?"

Katsuki resolutely ignores him as he glares at Ashido. "Shut your face. Don't put dumb shit in his head or he's going to get the wrong idea."

Izuku pouts. Katsuki talked as if he's a child that doesn't know any better. Really not fair. He wants to know she meant by him being Katsuki’s white whale.

"Really?" Ashido muses, there's a teasing lilt in her tone.  "What sort of idea could that even be?"

Katsuki's eyes narrow in suspicion. "Get your fucking brain out of the gutter."

"You know Katsuki, if you have told me earlier, I could have help you rescue your childhood sweetheart," she comments idly as if knowing exactly what button to press on Katsuki.

And just like that Katsuki makes a sputtering noise of distress and Izuku's face goes up in flame.

"We're not—" Izuku swallows. "We're not anything of that sort!" he vehemently denies. He didn't even think they were friends when they last saw each other all those years back. Their relationship has always been muddled with complicated feelings that they still haven't been able to sort out even after all these years.

Love. Hate. Hurt. Regret. Admiration and resentment. It all entangled up together that someday Izuku has a hard time deciphering which is which. He thought that after they were separated, he won't miss Katsuki at all, especially when Katsuki had left scars all over his heart. But he'd yearned for him, yearned for the kinder and simpler days of their childhood where their life didn't line up and stands opposite of each other. One rose and the other sank, the former sat at the top with a cape around him and the latter on his knees and a collar at his throat.

Even in the Academy, when he's not busy with his lessons he could easily catch sight of Katsuki on TV or in the headlines, tracing the figure of the boy who has grown up without him, and thought if only he can stand right next to Katsuki. Close yet so far like a distant star. And now Katsuki is his master and Izuku served at his behest. How strange things have turned out in the end.

As though sensing the direction of Izuku's mood quickly spiraling downward, Katsuki asserts loudly and fiercely to Ashido, "What we are is nobody's business, but ours."

Ashido blinks. Slightly taken back by the way her joke seems to fall flat in front of them, she quickly backtracks, "Sorry, sorry!"

Izuku offers up a smile to her in hope of squashing any awkwardness between them. It's really nobody's fault that Katsuki and his relationship are a bit of a minefield to tread across. "It's quite alright," he says. "I'm just happy that Kacchan has such a good friend with him."

Even in Ashido's earlier anger, she had cared enough to broach such a sensitive subject to him because she was worry about his reputation and how it could damage him later ton even though this is clearly something that matter to her a lot. This kind of deep and loyal friendship, Izuku finds envious.

He doesn't have anyone like that back in the Academy. They were all on their own, driven by their need to prove themselves in order to stand out because only the best and brightest of them are chosen by a master; the rest will be sent to work in the camps, never to be seen again. Lesser that aren't up to standards of what they thought is a practical tool are therefore reeducated and put somewhere else, so that they can provide other benefits to society.

At least here with Katsuki, under his thumb and the constrain of his bondage, Izuku is own person still.

Ashido grins, her face lighting up at the mention of their friendship. "Well, someone got to put up with this prickly guy," she says as Katsuki scoffs. "He may be rough around the edges, but he's a pretty decent person once you get really, really down to his soft gooey center."

"Shut the fuck up," Katsuki bites out as she giggles.

Izuku keeps a smile plastered on his face, careful not to let it drop as he watches Ashido and Katsuki's laidback banter and the way she had explained Katsuki to him as though he's a stranger in Katsuki's life. Involuntary, his chest throbs.

"I hope Katsuki is not making your life difficult," Ashido says with concern. "He has never owned a lesser before, so it may be challenging to live with him at first. He's not pushing you too hard, right?"

Katsuki snorts. “Does it look like I'm even making him do anything?" He gestures toward the kitchen that been Katsuki's domain all of this morning as he prepares lunch for them while Izuku has been lounging in the living room with a book in hand.

Izuku smiles sheepishly, scratching his cheek. "I’ve been reading. Mostly. But only because he won't let me help around the house!" It’s strange.

The academy has trained him ub housework and other skill sets that may be require of him from his master, but Katsuki doesn't seem to care or need him for any of it. It makes him feel redundant and worthless because this is all he has ever known, to serve and please his master. Katsuki won't even let him do that, so what is the point of his existence here? He still doesn't know the exact reason why Katsuki had purchased him. Was out of some concern for him that Katsuki had extended a hand toward him? Or was a sense of duty that had spurred Katsuki to action?

Katsuki's motivation has been in the dark to him ever since they reunited that day at the Academy and he whisked him away from there. He'd given Izuku a beautiful anklet instead of a collar, promised that he was going to find Inko for Izuku, and stripped Izuku of all responsibilities. All he demands from Izuku is that he remains safely at home and do anything moderately stupid.

Some days, he feels more like an over indulgence pet than a human.

"You must have been so bored," Ashido says, looking at him pitifully like she knows how he's hardwired to serve, to be of use.

Well, yes, he has a lot of free time now, but he's just laying around the house uselessly. He doesn't tell her that though. "It's fine," he insists.

He's living on Katsuki's generosity, so he can't complain. Doing nothing is better than being sent back and reeducated. Considering his situation, he's luckier than most lessers. Katsuki is temperamental but he doesn't lash out at him. He treats Izuku brusquely but not harshly. It’s a pretty good life.

Ashido frowns, scrutinizing him so carefully that Izuku dare not even breathe before snapping her head toward Katsuki. "You should provide some physical activity or mental stimulus to Deku instead of having him wait all day around for you," she scolds. "He needs something to do!"

Katsuki scrunches up his face. "I got him plenty of books to read! And he likes them." He looks at Izuku pointedly. "Right?"

Feeling like he's caught in the crossfire, "I like books," he answers meekly, afraid of what answer he give won't satisfied either party in the end.

Ashido roll her eyes. Hard. "Something else then! You can't expect him to be only into books. People have different interests," she reminds him. "They need variety in life, a little spice, they can't all be boring old man like you, who like to stay at home and water his plants and cook."

Katsuki glares. "Those are perfectly acceptable hobbies."

"Sure,” she shrugs, “but you get to do all that while Deku isn't even allow to do any of it except apparently read his books. Doesn't that sound constricting?" she asks. "Have you ever asked him what he thought of it?"

Katsuki's gaze drops to the floor as a stiff silence descends upon them, making Izuku shifts his legs nervously but then he directs his attention to Izuku. "Do you feel like I have been unfair to you?"

Izuku quickly shakes his head, because it's true. Katsuki has been good to him. His life been nice so far.

"Be honest with me, I won't be mad," Katsuki presses further.

His tone is firm but his words are ripe with sincerity even if it's a little awkward with his intention, a little pushy. He looks so unsure and hesitant like Izuku is a child who has to be coax for an answer, but he doesn’t know how. It’s a Katsuki he has never seen before. All prideful arrogance reduced to this.

It's kind of cute.

"Well, I do like my books, but sometimes—” Izuku bites down on his lower lip, hesitant but then, “sometimes I wish there was something else I can do too," he admits at last. "When you're not here, it can be a little monotonous and drab. The highlight of my day is when you're back home and I can hear about how your day of work went."

He was very careful with his words, choosing the ones that he thought won't set Katsuki off and offend him, but the way Katsuki draws back from him and his face a strange amalgamation of confusion and upset like Izuku has taken a knife and stabbed him in the chest repeatedly—was not what he was expecting. At all.

It's a jarring sight.

Just as Izuku about open his mouth and retract his earlier statement, Katsuki shoves his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I can't read your fucking mind, so you’ll have tell me next time," he say, aggrieved, then he heaves a sigh. "I'll do better."

Izuku's jaw go slacked in a shock, so he leans over and pinches Katsuki's arm just in case.

"Deku, you fuck!" Katsuki growls, yanking his arm away.

"I just wanted to make sure I'm not dreaming," he sulks. This can’t be real right? Katsuki, actually, sort of, maybe, admitting he was wrong and trying to improve on it?

"Then pinch yourself," Katsuki hisses, glaring at him heatedly.

"Well, then I would be in pain," he says, and when Katsuki looks like he's about to blow a casket, Izuku breaks out into laughter. He feels light and unburden for the first time in a while.

Katsuki stares at him with dazed look on his face like he doesn't know what to make of him. “You—”

Ashido clears her throat, drawing both of their attention to her as it seems both of they had forgotten that she is also here with them. "Well, if you two are done with whatever that was," she says, wagging her brow. "I have a suggestion."

Recovering himself, Katsuki snorts. "Do tell," he says.

"How about you take Deku with you instead of leaving him alone all day alone when you’re at work," she proposes.

Izuku immediately perks up while Katsuki frowns. "You want me to bring Deku to work? Are you fucking crazy?!" he demands, refusing to accept the idea of it.

"Why not?" Ashido folds her arms across her chest, unfazed. "You have full ownership over him and in the eyes of the law, he can go anywhere that you can go as long as it’s under your permission. And it’s your agency, you have full control over there."

"That's not the point," he retorts, peeved like he's gearing up for another fight with her, but Izuku quickly intervenes.

He reaches out and touches Katsuki's arm, drops his voice to a low cadence with a hint of a coyness, his eyes dips and he looks up at Katsuki from his lashes. "But Kacchan, I want to go," Izuku pleads. "I promise not to cause any trouble and be hindrance to you, so can you take me with you?"

He's putting the lessons of the Academy to work, all that training to be the perfect servant, the perfect companion to their master. When Katsuki remains silent for a lengthy time, Izuku isn't surprise this paltry trick doesn't work on him. He attempts to withdraw his hand, but Katsuki catches it just in time much to Izuku shock.

"Fine," he bites out something fierce, a low guttural sound that sends shiver down Izuku's back as he delicately but firmly holds Izuku's hand in his grip like he can brand his touch against Izuku’s skin. "You can come, but you must listen to everything I say and don't take stupid, reckless action."

"Ah," Izuku breathes. He wonders if this count as stupid, reckless action with the way he instigated this—whatever this is—and now he's the one paying the price of it. Katsuki's touch burns him, incinerating the last of his brain cells. "I'll be good, master," he says, the words unbiddenly slipping pass from his lips.

Katsuki's eyes darken, his breath is drawn out, and he looks at Izuku like he's puzzle that he still can't quite parse out yet. "You're going to drive me to an early grave, nerd," he mumbles, but it sounds helplessly fond.

"Well, don't die yet. You have to take me to work first," Izuku says cheerfully, tangling their hand together. Katsuki’s touch anchors him in place, an assurance of safety that even if he has no home for himself, his place is by Katsuki’s side now. Till however long Katsuki will have him at least.

“Hey, hey, did you guys forget that also I’m here again?” Ashido says, with a heavy sigh. 

[evacado3]

I'm sorry I accidently deleted it but this was the request!

Lovelorn

Word count: 675

The cell rattled as you were thrown back in by the guards, desperately chasing for the air that was knocked out of your lungs.

You laughed in amusement while panting sharply, running your fingers through the knotty hair that hasn't been washed for days. You hugged yourself and grinned when that man appeared again. Right in front of your lonely chamber, he mocked

"Had fun?"

"Hell yeah, shit this hurts like fuck though. Yujin give me those pills already."

"I thought you liked the pain y/n, isn’t that why the renowned assassin sold herself to Workers?"

"Shut up! As if you know shit. Damn that guy was strong, where's he from again?"

He threw you a black container of tiny tablets, without thinking you gulped in five, after all, pain isn't something even you could ignore. "He's from Gangseo I recall, don't eat them all at once."

"Uh, it is just me or it's kinda blurry in here?"

"Then the pills are kicking in nicely, rest well my love."

"Heyyyy you said there are no after-effects. Yujin you-" the place spun as your vision blacked out, and with a thud you hit the floor. You could slightly make out a shadow crouching, an arm reaching through the bars. Then a warm hand caressed your cheek, and lifted your chin towards him.

Yujin smiled warmly, "What a pretty thing, for a psycho. If you weren't such a masochist and had more brains, you could've gotten far. It's okay though, I'll keep you here forever, right in this dungeon."

"But I know what you're planning. Don't you underestimate me princess, I can always track you down. Remember, I'm the only one who is willing to love you even at this state."

His threats went unheard as your brain shut down, the only feeling left was the heated hand withdrawing from your face, leaving you wanting for more.

-----

Cold sweat trailed down your forehead to your neck, nightmares have been reappearing in your dreams lately.

You breathed in and out trying to compose yourself, after that horrid experience you've started to have anxiety attacks, making you unable to continue your old career.

It’s was nearly a two years ago, but you haven’t felt much adrenaline after escaping that hell hole. Maybe, just maybe you would like to feel it again, but pain is a drug. The effects that has imprinted on you is more than enough stop this behavior.

And you got pretty stable this year, getting a small apartment was already a great achievement on its own. Not to mention the easy job you have now as a waitress.

"Y/n! It's your shift, come out." your friend shouted from outside, remind me how you slept in the backroom again?

"Y-yeah, hold on!" you scrambled up and grabbed your apron, rushing out to the counter.

"Hello there, what can I get you?" the man looked down on you, what is he staring at? He has got to be at least two meters tall, with a colorful-looking tie and matching pants.

The uniform looked awfully familiar to your conviction, though you couldn't exactly recall where it's from.

"Can I get a small americano please, thank you." he smiled as he recognizes you. You nodded and signaled him to the waiting area. Goosebumps rose when you felt a pair of eyes from afar, you immediately turn to that man, but he was only checking his phone.

You shivered from the unpleasant feeling, not realizing the limbo outside hid the real culprit.

Yujin stared, those lovesick eyes might fool anyone, but they don't hold any good intentions. "That's the girl you were hellbent on retrieving?" Samuel questioned, he knew he wasn't supposed to meddle between this, but you seemed so ordinary he finds it hard to digest.

"It's her, it’s my princess." Yujin didn't turn back from the window, attention locked on your frowning face whose still trying to find his prickling eyes. 'I missed you so much I thought I was insane'

"I could reclaim you with a click of my fingers now love, you can't run away no more." ====================

The fic is not too long cause there’s another Yujin one(including nsfw hcs) coming out soooo enjoy this for now haha. I do have more ideas for this but I wanted to post something before studying my ass off. Hopefully this fic doesn’t sound too rushed

And I’m having severe problems on trying to name these fics (lovelorn is just another word for lovesick)

[wornoutmouse]

Look I wrote this for my friend but i popped the hell off with this one so if you don’t mind reading a name inbetween a few dialogue points pls read

You ran hurriedly through the halls of the school as the third bell finally rang. You had overslept and had barely made it onto the bus. Skidding to a stop, you slow down when you get to the door, catching your breath before entering. Just as you annoyingly expected, eyes dart towards you as soon as you entered, effectively catching the teacher’s attention.

 “This is the second time you are late young lady, one more time and I will have no choice but to write you up.” You smile awkwardly, “Sorry Miss, it won’t happen again.”  Ms. Bustier clicks her tongue disapprovingly as she watched her student walk to her seat, head hanging low. You sit down in your chair with a soft sigh as Ms. Bustier spoke about today’s lesson.

For the most part, you pay attention to the lesson being taught, that is until your attention is being interrupted by a pencil poking your side. From your peripheral vision, you see fluffy blond hair swaying gently to get your attention. You mutter under your breath, swiping the pencil with your hand, “Quit it Adrien I’m already in trouble.” The boy huffs but the playful aura still hung around making your skin buzz with excitement.

 Shifting in your seat, you squint your eyes at the smartboard, writing down notes every so often. Looking down once again, you notice a small piece of paper folded, You look at Adrien who boredly watched your teacher speak. Opening the paper you roll your eyes at the note inside. 

A - Late again are you Miss Mia? One more time and I might have to wake you up myself

Nibbling the tip of your pencil you write a note back, crumpling the paper before tossing it at Adrien’s head with a smirk.

You- Well maybe I wouldn’t have been so tired if you hadn’t interrupted my study time with your modeling rants

The paper is tossed back at your head, catching in your curly hair, making Adrien snort.

A- Well I can think of other ways to keep you up at night...

You cough loudly at the message, eyes darting at Adrien’s laid-back figure. You scribble down a quick snarky reply with shaking hands. You go to pass the paper but the sound of a throat clearing interrupts you. You turn to your left and are forced to look up, gulping when you notice your teacher’s signature white blazer. She holds her hand out and you reluctantly place the ball of paper in her hand.

“While I will not embarrass you by reading out your hidden messages, I will embarrass you by writing you up for detention.” Sputtering, you point an accusing finger at the smug boy behind you, “He started it first I was just..” You are hushed by a firm hand on your shoulder, “Well if that’s the case, both you and Adrien can join each other at study hall.” Adrien groans behind you and you throw a glare his way, one that he responds with a teasing wink. The sound of the bell ringing grimly reminds you of the dreadful time awaiting you in study hall after school.

 When you get thereAdrien is already there and waves you over to him. You narrow your eyes at him but sit next to him anyway. “Aww don’t look at me like that Mi, it’s not my fault you aren’t stealthy enough to pass a simple note in class.” You roll your eyes, “Well if you weren’t tossing notes like a child, we wouldn’t be here either.” Adrien laughs loudly earning a sharp look from the detention monitor. 

He mutters a silent apology as you busy yourself with a notepad and pencil. The study hall is silent and boring and 11 minutes feel like 11 hours as the clock ticks by. Adrien watches your small scribbles turn into different shapes and sizes. Before long, he notices you drawing a rather familiar face. “Whatcha drawing?” You shrug, watching your pencil make the shape of cat-like ears.

You continue drawing, briefly recognizing Adrien’s body heat as he watches over your shoulder. “You like Chat Noir huh?” Your precise pencil strokes outline the lean frame of one of Paris’s heros. While it is undoubtedly Chart Noir in a heroic setting, the way his eyes slant a little more than his mask allows and the way one of his hands rested on his chest did give way to a more seductive undertone. 

“Yeah, I think he’s pretty hot not gonna lie.” Adrien hums, the feeling of his short breaths blowing against your shoulder makes you shiver. “Really? Well, he can’t be hotter than I can he?” Adrien fluffs his hair pompously as he stretches his body lazily. “I don’t know maybe a little.” Adrien sticks his tongue out at you.

Your monitor stands up and walks towards the door before turning around, “Listen you two, I am going to get lunch, and I better see you two here when I come back or you’ll get worse than detention.” The teacher fixes you both with a long look before leaving. “They are a little stiff in the ass.” You chuckle resting your head on your palm. Adrien slouches in his chair to play on his phone, giving you the perfect opportunity to observe him. Your friend is attractive, that is something you’ve come to terms with a long time ago, hiding your crush away deep in your mind. 

“You like to stare at me when you think?” His tenor voice startles you out of thought and you realize you now have his full attention. Your face is warm and for once you are glad you couldn’t visibly blush. 

“Hey, Adrien? What did you mean by that last message you passed me in class?” You tried to pass the question off as casual but you could feel your heart racing as the room filled with daunting silence. “What do you think I meant?” 

Suddenly Adrien felt too close and the room felt smaller. When you made eye contact with him, his eyes were slanted just like Chat Noirs on your drawing. “You tell me.” You said boldly. Adrien pondered for a while, green eyes observing your features, going from your eyes, down your nose before finally resting on your plump lips. “Well, I think it meant exactly what it said.” Adrien placed a hand on your thigh, squeezing the flesh in his palm. “So tell me why you like Cat Noir?” You stare at nothing, unable to compute the absurd request that came seemingly out of nowhere.

“What?” Adrian’s hand doesn’t stop moving on your thigh, heating your skin through your jeans. “Come on Mi, humor me for a moment.” You hum softly in an attempt at calming your heart rate. “Well, I like how he seems to enjoy what he does,  saving people...” As you speak Adrien takes the time to scoot closer to you paying a sparing glance at the door your teacher left out of a moment ago. “What would you do if you met him?” His hands got closer to your inner thigh fiddling with your belt loops.

The urge to clench your legs together was immediate as the fire within you grew stronger. “I would thank him for his service and-” Adrien shushes you with the sound of your belt clinking a loose. “Let me rephrase, what do you want him to do to you?” Before you had comprehended your predicament, Adrien’s hand had found itself inside your pants.

You were sitting rigidly in your chair, lips parted in a silent exhale. Slender fingers focused themselves on your swelling bud, pressing soft circles on it in an effort to coax it out of its hood. Noting your tensed posture, Adrien tries to distract you. He’ll admit even to himself that this was a bold move on his part and he was surprised you hadn’t pushed him off at this point. “I can stop if you want me to?” You feel his fingers stop their ministrations and you quickly grab his wrist. “No!”

His concerned demeanor is quickly wiped away by a broad smirk as his fingers resumed their task. “Okay then.” He places a kiss on your shoulder through your shirt making you shiver. “You didn’t answer my question.” You nod and try to speak in a stable manner. “I would want him to- oh god!” Adrien’s fingers began to work overtime as they went down to your lips, now wet with your arousal. “I would want him to touch me there! Please.” 

Lips latched lazily on your skin, sucking hard enough for you to feel it but not hard enough for marks to be left behind. “Where is’ there’ Mia? Use your words.” Your back arched in your chair when you felt his slick index finger playfully dip inside of you before returning to your clit.  “Adrien~” Your soft moans were audible now, and every small whimper made his cock ache at the thought of being the cause of your sweet noises. Adrien mockingly hummed, “Oh I see now.”

“You want him to fuck that pretty pussy of yours don’t you?”  You make a strange noise that is a mix of surprise and a moan. You’d never think words like those could leave Adrien’s mouth. “Y-Yes!”  Adrien nodded moving to use both hands now, it was an awkward position but it was worth it seeing you fall apart by his hands. “I bet you think of him at night, kissing you slowly, while his hands roam your body.”  Adrien sinks his teeth in your shoulder blade making you jerk as a particularly hard burst of pleasure racks your body. “You look so damn sexy like this kitty cat.’

You lean forward, holding yourself up by your desk as Adrien’s fingers move faster on your clit. “I can feel how fast your heart is beating, you gonna cum?” The teasing tone in his voice ignited the smallest ounce of competitiveness within you. You grit your teeth and shake your head, “Don’t get so full of yourself Agreste.” Your eyes clenched shut at the feeling of a finger finally entering you. Adrien looked at you with narrowed eyes. He wasn’t a fan when you got competitive, especially when you were obviously bluffing.

There was a thin layer of sweat forming on your skin as your orgasm got closer. Adrien focused on the way your walls quivered around his finger. Your choked-back moans cut the air as he pumps his finger faster. Your wetness was dripping onto your underwear and around his palm making squelching noises. “Are you sure you aren’t going to cum?” Adrien whispered close to your ear taking glee when a tremor passed down your spine. Your orgasm was too damn close for him to stop so you decide to swallow your pride just this once. “F-faster, Adrien, I’m close.” Those were indeed the wrong words to say. Adrien slowed his finger down to slow pumps while his thumb pressed harshly on your clit. He laughed as he could practically feel it throbbing, “I thought you said you weren’t going to cum?” You try to grind down on his hand, bucking slightly as his rough palm stimulated your sensitive lips. “Don’t be an ass ah-fuck!”

You grip the edge of your desk as you finally cum on his hand. Your eyelids flutter and Adrien marvels that the feeling of your cunt that was squeezing him so tightly he could neither tell if it was pulling him in or pushing him out. 

You grunt as he removes his finger, when you look over at him, he is preoccupied with pulling his cock out while licking his fingers clean of your cum. Adrien whimpered around his fingers as his other hand jerked his cock sharply “Ah, you taste better than I thought.” Your eyes travel down his chest to meet his junior. It was thick and surprisingly long. You couldn’t help but feel sorrow for the angry red it was at the tip. But the vein traveling up the side made your mouth water.

His hips bucked to meet his hand desperately. Curses left his soft lips as he tossed his head back in pleasure. A deep warmth flooded your gut from the vibrant imagery of him fucking you with it. “Mia-ah shit.” You raise your head up to meet his eyes, your heart skipping a beat at how the green of his eyes was almost completely drowned by his pupils. “It’s not fair if I helped you get you off, but you won’t help me.” You scootch forward a little bit, swallowing your saliva, “What do you want me to do?” Adrien spread his legs with his hands holding the sides of his chair, “Come on Mi, I haven’t even fucked you yet and you’ve already gone dumb?” 

A hand comes on your shoulder and gently coaxes you down to your knees. You feel small as Adrien peers down at you,  gaze disrupted as his cock begins twitching in front of you. Nervousness enters your head as you quickly come to the realization of how large his dick actually was. “What, are you afraid Mia? Or do I need to get you into the mood?”  Adrien sits up straighter, “Claws out.”  Your tilt your head curious as he combs his fingers through his hair, revealing...cat ears? The sight of a green glow slithering around his body was almost as unnerving as the sight of his outfit changing right before you. 

In little as no time flat, Paris’s neighborhood hero sat in front of you in all his leather glory. His eyes seemed even greener than before, and his personality seemed to change right before you. “Adrien you’re Chat Noir!?” The blond shrugs nonchalantly, gripping his cock and slapping it against your cheek. “Mi I am all for the formalities, but I am so close to fucking your brains out right now, that I think it would be in your best interest to start sucking.” While still being conscious of your hairstyle, Adrien...Noir, pulls your head closer to his groin.

You resist the urge to scrunch your face at the feeling of precum being smeared on your mouth and chin. This resistance only makes Noir chuckle, “Stick your tongue out for me.”  As if it was routine, you do as he says and moan softly from the feeling of his tip tapping your warm muscle. “So fucking perfect for me.”  The praise makes you clench and gives you the courage to open your mouth wider. You suck on his member making him release a pleased growl. His hand laid limply on the back of your head as you take the lead.

The salty taste while slightly unpleasant, wholly addictive. Feeling your growing comfort, Adrien begins thrusting to meet your mouth. The tip of his cock goes all the way to the back of your throat making you choke before dragging back but the sounds of you struggling doesn’t dissuade him. The feeling of your tongue grazing over his vein just before your throat constricted around him drove him wild. Your tiny whimpers made his balls vibrate as he moved faster.

You place your hands on his thighs in order to stable yourself as his thrusts got more brutal. Slob collected around your mouth before dripping down your chin and finally collected by his balls every time they hit your jaw. “Fuck I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum!” Adrien’s voice pitched higher as his claws scratched into the wooden chair of his seat. His head tossed back violently as his thrusts became sloppy, legs shaking. Loud sobs left his mouth as you bright him closer to the edge each thrust is accentuated by filthy words. “Your mouth is so. fucking. Tight. Fuck Mia!”

You felt cum shoot down your throat as Adrien holds your head painfully against this crotch. He weakly thrusts into your mouth a few more times before realizing you. Gasping for air, you wipe your mouth of saliva and look up at Adrien as he catches his breath.  Rough hands grip your chin making you look up at him. “You looked wrecked Mi.” Adrien laughs as he wipes cum off the corner of your mouth.  You stand up wobbly and albeit a bit light-headed, Adrien stands with you and kisses your lips, enjoying the taste of himself in your mouth.

“We are going to finish this later.” Before your brain could even prompt you to ask, the bell rings signaling that detention was over. Adrien deactivates his miraculous before grabbing his backpack and leaving detention hall.

[jovialjuggernaut-draws]

RiddleBat Week Day 4: Fake Dating/Scars

(fic under cut bc it got very long)

"Aaand… what about this one?" The petite redhead draped across his lap giggled, tugging his shirt collar down just enough to dishevel his tie. She nosed a flirty little kiss there, leaving behind a perfect impression of her lips in plum lipstick around the old scar stretched, white, across the tender skin of his neck. 

"Climbing accident," he lied smoothly, having had to publicly explain that particular one away while it was still fresh. "Belay rope snapped and-" He clicked his tongue, miming his neck being cut with one hand. 

"Wooow~" The girl in his arms enthused, the heavy falsies lining her eyes fluttering. "That must have been sooo scary~!" 

"It was worth it, though. When we made it to the peak, the view was really something else," Bruce recited. 

His little redhead giggled. "You're so tough, Brucie!" She pinched at his biceps, the fabric of his jacket going taut around them at the prodding. "Nothing keeps you down, huh? So big and so strong~" 

He pulled her down, kissing his way up her neck, until he was nosing into the ginger waves curling loosely around her ears. "You're overselling it," he whispered, tone teasing, with a pinch to Edward's backside for good measure. 

A tinkling giggle, and his armful of redhead was sinking into his chest to nuzzle herself under his chin. With a seductive nip to his earlobe, Edward let a hot breath out across his ear, sending a shiver down Bruce's spine that was a little too genuine for his comfort. "I think I'm selling it just the right amount, Brucie. That ancient lech in the corner keeps eyeing me over." 

Bruce followed Edward's pointed glance, catching a returning look from a man he was only distantly acquainted with, a repugnant banker with his fingers in pies they didn't belong in and friends Bruce would rather see behind bars. He maintained eye contact after the man realized he'd been caught, biting a possessive mark into Edward's freckled neck, both hands palming handfuls of ass through the pleated skirt, until the creep looked away. 

"Christ," Edward groaned, his voice swerving dangerously down toward his usual comfortable register. 

"There you go," Bruce announced. "Stalker deterred." 

Edward glanced to check, and sighed with relief seeing the lecherous banker's gaze now elsewhere. "Thank god."

"Regretting this outing already?" Bruce checked. "I seem to remember you being the one insisting on coming with me." 

"Don't give me that garbage," Edward cooed, covering up the harsh words with a cheeky smile and playful fingers walking their way up his lapels. "You were the one who insisted I come dressed like this. I wouldn't be receiving this treatment if the people here recognized me." 

"You would have been kicked out when you first arrived if people recognized you," Bruce reminded him. 

"I still didn't need to play your little bimbo. This is humili-" 

"Heyyy, Bruce!" They were interrupted by another guest, a blond Bruce's age he only vaguely recognized. A Jacob, maybe? He definitely seemed more familiar with Bruce, though, dropping himself casually into the cushion adjacent theirs on the couch. "And who's this pretty little thing?"

Edward giggled, immediately falling into character again, despite his complaints.

"Go on, baby, introduce yourself," Bruce encouraged.

Edward held out a hand, the several bracelets draped around his thin wrist jangling against one another. "Heya, handsome. My name's Anna Graham, but you can call me Annie."

"Justin," the blond greeted, taking Edward's hand from below, as though to kiss the delicate knuckles, but dropped it quickly, glancing Bruce's way. "...Though, I think I'll stick to calling you Miss Graham, based on the way your boyfriend's glaring at me. Sorry, Bruce."

Bruce was startled. Had he been making some sort of face? "It's fine," he bit out, finding his jaw clenched. 

"Oh, stop it, Brucie," his pretty little redhead sang, cuddling into his chest. "He's just being friendly." 

"Was I interrupting something?" Their interloper teased, waggling his eyebrows Bruce's way. 

"No-" Bruce refuted, embarrassed by the hinted accusation.

"He was just telling me his war stories about his scars," the girl cooed, teasing his tie further open and popping another button on his shirt. "Tell us how you got this one, Brucie~" 

It was one Edward knew well, having put it there himself. "Oh, come on, you already know that story," he groaned good-naturedly. 

"Yeah, but I love the way you tell it," she purred, opening another button so she could expose the curving shape more fully. 

Oh, great. Shoving the pressure onto him to come up with an entertaining version of the story. "Alright, but there's no way Justin here will believe me." 

"Why not?" Their intruder glanced between the two of them. "I know you get up to some wild shit, Bruce, I don't think anything will surprise me."

"He doesn't think you'll believe him because he got it at a little haunt of ours… known as Pandora's Box."

Bruce flushed, coughing over Edward's shoulder. Shit. As far as improv setups went, this was an evil one. Edward was definitely getting his revenge in for the skirt Bruce had stuffed him into. (He couldn't regret the choice, though. The cut of it flattered him, making his waist look tight and trim, his naturally full rear flaring the back out cutely, and the high hem of it gracing his nice thighs-)

"Pandora's, huh? Didn't think you were into that sort of thing."

Bruce shrugged, trying to play it off as casually as Edward had. "On occasion. You meet real interesting people there. It's how I met my little wildfire here, you know?" 

He nipped at Edward's neck, the most rebuttal he could make among company for the bullshit he was being put through. Edward whined cutely for him, making him doubt it was much of a punishment at all. 

"She's a little brat, for sure, but that's what makes training her so much fun, you know?" 

"So, how'd you get the scar, then?" 

"It's a little embarrassing, but… well, we did a little roleplay at some point, a whole Batman-type scene- she's crazy for that kind of thing-"

"How am I supposed to resist a big boy in leather?" She pouted, pinching at his nipple with expert precision through his shirt.

"-And I went all in on it, you know, commissioned a replica outfit and everything. Well, see, Batman's got these armor bits over the chest-"

"A pity, really," his date sighed. "Covering up an incredible pair of tits like that."

"Hey, are my tits not good enough for you?" Bruce gasped, mock-offended. 

She kissed his neck, leaving a second set of purple lipmarks by the first. "Your tits are great, sweetheart, don't you worry."

"Thank you. Anyway, I get her all tied up, and she wriggles out of the restraints-"

"I'm very good at that-"

"And while she struggles, one of her fancy little heels hits me square in the costume armor, bending it right into my sternum. Pandora had one of her girls stitch me right back up, but it left a permanent mark."

"I think it's hot," Edward purred. 

"Of course you do," Bruce sighed. It was a question mark, too-obviously. "You little sadist."

"You think it's cute," Edward insisted. 

And Lord help him, but he did. This whole forced intimacy thing was getting to him, he thought, making his thoughts follow strange paths. 

"You know, you two are kind of adorable together," the uninvited guest commented. "I'm kind of rooting for you guys to last a while. Not to scare you off or anything, but Bruce's dates rarely stick around long."

"Oh, he won't get rid of me that easy," Edward purred, a threat and a promise all at once, leaving Bruce to wonder if he should anticipate or dread that future.

[spamtonloversanonymous]

🧃🪐: Hello, May I request a Spamton x reader where the reader dated him since he was a Addison (little theory, ya know?) But broke up when he became a [[bigshot]] BUT HAPPY ENDING! They get back together when Reader offers him a place because he lives in a dump :)

ok this got very long for this blog’s standards but it was a lot of fun to write! i only stopped it when i did to keep it somewhat short, i could probably write a part 2 of this if there’s interest. here u go:

you’re just cutting through an alley to dodge the crowd, and of all the people you were expecting to meet today -

“spamton?”

you recognize him immediately; how could you not? he’s changed a lot, but it’s undeniable: the short stature you had always found so charming, the dirtied messy hair (with sad vague suggestions of attempting to slick back or style) that he’d dyed black sometime around everything happening, those weird-ass glasses you recall from ad posters that had depicted a stranger you’d used to be so familiar with. you used to know spamton so well, and then it felt like you didn’t know him at all, and then it felt like nobody ever knew him — and here he is before you, the opposite of everything he was becoming when you broke off. digging through a trash can like a raccoon and muttering to himself about kromer and phone calls.

of course, not a moment after you say his name, his head snaps up and he ejects himself from the bin, as if you might not notice he was ever in there if he distances himself quick enough. his face is panic-stricken — is that just the face of a former success story humiliated to be seen at such a low point, or the face of someone startled to see his past lover? does he even recognize you?

“spamton,” you repeat, approaching him.

after a short pause, probably registering your presence, spamton takes only an instant to shake the deer in headlights look in favor of an overzealous salesman persona that would be painfully familiar to you if he wasn’t playing it so… oddly. it’s adjacent to the “big shot” that had been too “big” for little old you, but so, so off. it’s kind of unnerving, kind of sad; he’s not unlike a broken child’s toy.

“WELL WELL [Well]!!!” he booms in a voice you can almost recognize as spamton as you knew him. “WHAT HAVE WE GOT HERE ?? IS THI5 THE [[Humble Small-Town Beginnings]] OF THE [[Watch This Heartwarming Reunion]] OF THE CENTURY?!?”

well, someone’s picked up some bizarre speech quirks since you last saw him. it takes you a second to process and make sense of what he just said.

“what?” you say. “spam..ton,” you hesitate in the middle of his name, the second syllable an addendum to save you from calling him by the nickname that came back so naturally, “you…” you have a million questions. “…are you okay?”

the facade he’s just thrown on is already cracking. the stretched-too-wide smile is fading from his eyes, his bold posture is receding back into slumping. his voice still has power behind it, but it’s more urgency than it is confidence: “iT S BEEN [[A real long time]] SINCE Y0U AND I L4ST [Click Here To Chat] !! YOU GOTTA GIVE ME THE [[LArge Ice-Cream Scoop]] ON HOW LIFES BEEN TRE ATING YOU”

he’s avoiding the question. even before… everything, spamton’s always been a little too prideful to admit the embarrassing, so you take that as not meaning well.

you want to be mad at him — he’s finally before you after all this time, after he just kind of disappeared from everything as almost soon as he made it big, but you can’t find it in you. he’s clearly not in a good place in any sense of the word, and you’ve always privately wished for a chance to reconnect with him.

“wanna catch up at my place?” you offer all too casually, despite every shred of common sense in your brain urging you to do, uh, not that.

he looks like you just told him he won the lottery. “IF YOUD BE!! WILLING TO LET ME IN2 YOUR [[Quality Living Space]] I WOULD LOV E TO”

“…and it wouldn’t have to just be for an evening or anything,” you add. “spamton, do you — do you have anywhere to stay?”

the deer-in-headlights expression flickers across his face for a moment, but he gestures to the dumpster in the alley with all the gusto of a used car salesman, telling you, “I HAVE A TOP OF THE LINE [[No Place Like Home]]”

“…spamton, that’s not…” you don’t want to kick his pride while its down; you choose not to finish your sentence. instead, you simply say: “i have a guest bedroom.”

“………REALLY?”

“do you want to.. stay with me?”

“CAN YOU PROMISE [[Not Clickbait]]”

“i’m being serious. promise.”

there’s a pause, and then:

“I COULD CERTAINLY [[Consent to the terms & conditions of]] !!!!! ….IF YOU. WOULD HAVE ME. OF COURSE.”

“spammy,” the name just slips out, “i wouldn’t have offered otherwise. now come on.”