#like you can plan a succession but not a love life!

[a-fangirltrash]

"Ford treated Fiddleford so bad!!" As if him treating Fidds like shit wasn't directly a product of being constantly gaslighted and abused by Bill.

I'm genuinely getting tired of people flaming Ford, but in a serious tone. Like people are acting like he's a toxic selfish man that used to put Fidd down... and... no he never did???

Ford ADMIRED Fiddleford, he TRUSTED his friend for what he described as "the project of his life" and Ford, being the most prideful man in the world, decided to ask for help because he knew how CAPABLE Fiddleford was.

When Fiddleford arrived Ford let him know how thankful he was that he was there with him, the man even took a bath and made sure to make him feel like he was at home. Ford even remembered his favorite bean brand?

When Fidd got traumatized by the gremoblin, Ford TRIED to help with what he knew. He tried to help him meditate, took days off for him, decided that they could go out and have some good time. Be mindful that this might've been the total OPPOSITE of what Bill wanted, and he still did for his friend sanity. Bill would make Ford work like CRAZY.

Also, for him it wasn't "putting him in danger!!" For him it was sharing adventures with his friend! Just like hi did with *cofcofSTANLEYcofcof*. That's love language all around.

Fiddleford could abandon the project anytime, but he didn't because he liked being there. And Ford is NOT the guilty one for Fidds creatinf the gun :/ it's nor his fault that fidd interpreted "using his creativity" in that way. Ford NEVER approved that gun.

Also, Ford noticed that RUBIK THING, HE APPREACITE HIM SO MUCH HE KNEW HIS HABITS. AND GOT CONCERNED RIGHT AHEAD.

"B-but he free Frilliam!" The portal was close, did you all READ how much gaslighted Ford was at that point? He didn't free it because "ugh i don't care about this shitty axolotl" but because Bill started to freak out and yell at him to get rid of it. Ford wrote "A friend" with a heart in the title??? Wdym he didn't appreciate it aaaagh

If Stanley took the diaries (i don't like this universe because...stanley:() he WOULD have looked for Fiddleford, they'd have made the Institute of Oddology, he'd have shared his success... with the man that helped him the most.

TBOB SPOILERS AHEAD

He got sad when Fiddleford told him he was gonna get back home to spent time with his family, he PLANNED holidays with him. Even if he DIDN'T like holidays.

He took a day off just to make him happy after his atrocious christmas party, he USED RESOURCES that as you know ford is the most practical mam in the world JUST to decorate the portal as a tree and make Fiddleford happy.

And that atuff of "h-he doesn't appreaciated Fiddleford gifts!" IS SO DUMB OMG, he wore the gloves in the snow and was incredibly thankful about them. When BILL that dumbass triangle pretty much LACERATED his hands, he used Fiddleford gloves as a way to hide those scars, and in a sense, probably to comfort himself because he was ALONE.

I think that was the reason of Fiddleford fast forgiveness, not only because he's a sweet heart, but because after fighting with Bill i think he noticed how BIG was the monster torturing his "partner".

And after all of this i'm not trying to excuse Ford treating him poorly and not listening to him in time

BUT FORD IS NOT A PERFECT VICTIM

Even if i believe he wasn't "the" (at least only) reason of Fiddleford becoming crazy, i know it could have been better for him and he could have avoided so much trauma. But can we please stop seeing Ford as a selfish, evil mad scientist and start seing him as a victim... of a terribly abusive relationship that checks in for all types of domestic abuse... please!!! Ford is not a perfect VICTIM Can we blame Bill!!!

All this rant is because there's certain ship... which i kinda like, but i just HATE HATE HATE the interpretation and how much they put Ford as a villian on it omg

Edit: fixed the use of word narcissism, since it might've been ableist! Replaced with words that actually relate to what i intended to say, instead of referencing a personality disorder

[blakeswritingimagines]

How They Worship You

Quinn Hughes: He worships his partner by being kind, patient, and understanding. He listens to your thoughts and feelings and tries to support and uplift you whenever possible. He also makes an effort to spend quality time with you and plan surprises or special activities to make you feel loved and appreciated.

Jack Hughes: Worshipping you involves expressing his love and appreciation for you through words, actions, and gestures. He makes sure to regularly communicate how much you mean to him and how grateful he is for your presence in his life. He prioritizes spending quality time with you and planning things that you can enjoy together. He also surprises you with small gifts or gestures to show that he's thinking of you. In short, he makes sure to prioritize your happiness and well-being above all else.

Luke Hughes: He treats you with respect, appreciation, and admiration. He always supports you in your endeavors and dreams. He makes sure to express his love and affection for you in words and actions, and he tries to be understanding and empathetic to your feelings and needs. He also takes the time to plan romantic gestures, activities, and surprises to show you how much he values and cherishes you. Ultimately, he strives to be the best partner he can be, both in the big and small moments of your relationship.

Nico Hischier: He enjoys surprising you with your favorite flowers, taking you out on a romantic date or weekend getaway, listening to your problems and offering advice or comfort, cooking your favorite meal, or simply giving you a genuine compliment or a hug to show you how much he cares.

Timo Meier: He prioritizes your needs and feelings, and makes sure to communicate openly and honestly with you. He strives to make you feel respected, valued, and cared for, and to create a supportive and loving environment in which you both can grow and thrive together.

John Marino: He makes sure to communicate openly and honestly with you, and always prioritize your feelings and needs. He ensures that you know that you are his top priority and that he is always there for you, no matter what.

Dawson Mercer: He makes sure to express his love and appreciation for you through words and actions. He takes the time to let you know how much you mean to him. He also shows his love by being present and actively listening to you, showing empathy and understanding your feelings and needs. He prioritizes your time together and makes sure to give you his full attention and focus. He also likes to plan special date nights or surprise you with thoughtful gifts. Additionally, he makes sure to support your goals and dreams and celebrate your successes.

Kirby Dach: He worships you by being attentive to your needs and desires. He strives to understand and appreciate your individual qualities and quirks, and he makes sure to show you how much you mean to him through words and actions. He prioritizes your happiness and well-being, and he does everything he can to make you feel loved and appreciated. This includes small gestures like giving you gifts, planning special surprises, or simply listening to you talk about your day. Ultimately, he worships his partner by showing you how much respect and admiration he has for you in every way possible.

Juraj Slafkovsky: He worships his partner by expressing his affection and admiration frequently. He makes sure to show you appreciation for your accomplishments and strengths. He also listens intently when you speak and gives you his undivided attention. He prioritizes your happiness and well-being and supports you in pursuing your goals and dreams. He often surprises you with thoughtful gifts or small gestures to let you know he is thinking of you.

Arber Xhekaj: When it comes to worshiping you, he believes in expressing his love and devotion through sincerity and thoughtful gestures. He likes to show you that he cares about you by taking the time to understand your needs. He also believes in being honest and open about his own emotions, and expressing his affection through words or actions like writing letters, cooking a meal, or giving a meaningful gift. Overall, he believes in showing you that he values and respects you and that he is grateful for your presence in his life.

Cole Caufield: He worships you by showing you love and appreciation every day. He makes time for you, prioritizes spending quality time together, and expresses his affection through words and actions. He listens to you intently, respects your opinions, and supports your dreams and goals. He makes sure to prioritize your needs and ensure that you feel valued and loved in the relationship. He also strives to create a safe, comfortable, and supportive environment that encourages communication, trust, and understanding.

Trevor Zegras: He worships you by making you feel loved and cared for. He tries to show his appreciation for you through small gestures like surprising you with thoughtful gifts, cooking your favorite meals, or just showing up to support you in your endeavors. He also makes an effort to listen to you and understand your point of view, even if it's different from his. He tries to communicate openly and honestly and be there for you in times of need. He also makes time for you and prioritizes your relationship, despite his busy schedule.

Jamie Drysdale: He believes that worship involves expressing love, care, and appreciation for you in multiple ways. It means actively listening to your thoughts, feelings, and dreams, and supporting you in achieving your goals. He makes it a priority to spend quality time together, engaging in activities that bring joy and connection to your relationship. He also expresses gratitude for your presence in his life, both verbally and through actions. Additionally, he prioritizes your needs and well-being, whether it's through small gestures of kindness or bigger shows of affection.

Matt Rempe: He worships his partner by expressing his love for you through words and actions. He makes an effort to make you feel loved and appreciated every day, whether it's through small gestures of affection like holding your hand or cooking you dinner, or more significant acts like planning special surprises or going on adventures together. He also makes sure to support you in life and encourage you to pursue your goals and dreams.

[rainbowmoonstonestories]

Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 21

Chapters: 21/? Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix 2022, minor content from the Comics) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F!Reader  Characters: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus, Lucienne, Matthew the Raven, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Hob Gadling, Death, Rose Walker, The Corinthian, other minor Sandman characters, Original Characters. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching, very long chapters to read. Summary: You always dreamed of becoming a successful Fashion Designer, sharing your creations with the world and making your father proud. But with him being very ill and so many costs solely weighting on your shoulders, things didn’t go as planned and you had to take a different path instead. An interesting offer led you to the elder Alex Burgess and you were hired as a new housemaid for a very good pay. However, your kindness and outstanding empathy convinced the man to give you an additional task for a doubled compensation; gaining the trust of Dream Of the Endless, held captive into the basement for over a century. Despite the shock of finding such an ethereal entity stripped of all his clothes and contained into a confined space, you had to accept for the sake of your father. But the more you got to speak to the mysterious anthropomorphic personification who didn’t utter a single word, the more you were lost into his eyes that, conversely, seemed to contain the entire universe. A deep connection formed between the two of you, separated only by a thick layer of glass.

Little did you know, what started like a simple housemaid job was about to change your life forever.

Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics

Tagging: @number-0-iz, @emarich7, @jaziona92, @bridkesby If anyone else wants to be tagged in the next updates, let me know.

You can also read this on AO3 if you feel more comfortable!

Important notice: I am aware of the current allegations against Neil Gaiman and made a statement here.

Experiencing the Dreaming in your true, awakened state was the most incredible vacation of your life—one filled with magic, wonders, and an overwhelming amount of love from the King of Dreams.

Author's note: This chapter is most likely the LONGEST yet, and while quite chill and romantic, it is extremely important for something that will come soon enough. Warning: highly descriptive NSFW content included!

Upon your return to the castle, Morpheus granted you permission to explore his home further during his absence. Though he promised you an exceptional experience in his realm, an urgent matter required his immediate attention. You abstained from inquiring, recognizing that the situation, whatever its nature, necessitated his direct involvement.

At the end of the day, the sky had transformed into a magnificent starry expanse, simulating a perfect night. Morpheus had ensured everything was set and well-organized for your stay, unwilling to leave you without guidance.

Unity Kinkaid shared her great-granddaughter's compassion and wisdom, making your time together in the library rich with meaningful conversations. She regaled you with fascinating tales from her youth and the life she lived in her dreams during her long sleep, an experience that, though imaginary, led to the very real creation of a Vortex child.

Unity's charm and warmth made the prospect of her inevitable journey to the afterlife profoundly saddening. Though the compromise spared a young life with many years ahead, it left you feeling unsettled, wishing for a betterI solution.

Even in that moment of great reflection, you found solace in the warmth of Lucienne's tea, the comforting aroma of books filling the air, and the welcoming presence of your companions. These simple pleasures heightened your appreciation for being awake in such an extraordinary world, experiencing the Dreaming in a uniquely immersive way.

Meanwhile, Morpheus braced himself for an impending confrontation, one that would stir up bitterness, anger, and disappointment. The clash was unavoidable, given the recent Vortex incident and your role in it. He strode through the dark corridors of his palace, his coat billowing behind him, until he reached the area housing his siblings' sigils. He made a beeline for the one he sought, his pace slowing as he approached the object. Disgust contorted his features as he gazed at the black heart—a symbol bereft of warmth or affection, its shape a cruel irony.

He then grasped it, holding it in his hands before speaking in his characteristic low, deep tone. It was a formality, a customary phrase spoken to seek approval, albeit unnecessary. Any semblance of respect or cordiality toward his sibling had long since vanished.

“Desire. I stand in my gallery and I hold your sigil. Talk to me.”

In that instant, red fog materialized within the heart, and Desire's face appeared on its surface, smiling in that languid way Morpheus could barely tolerate. “Why, sweet Dream, this is a surprise. Almost an event, I might say—”

Impatient with their response, he cut them off abruptly. “Good. I’m coming through.”

Desire's expression flickered momentarily, a brief flash of unease quickly masked by their typical nonchalance. “You are. But of course.” They lounged in their gleaming red chair, clad in a provocative black catsuit, legs elegantly raised. “You know you’re always welcome in my chambers.”

Morpheus stepped forward, his surroundings shifting from the opulent darkness of his castle to the bright, blood-red walls that enveloped the entire space, reminiscent of a human heart. He strode forward with measured steps, barely containing his seething rage. His clenched jaw and furrowed brow betrayed the intensity of his emotions.

“Lovely to see you,” they purred with a husky voice. “Can I get you anything you desire?”

They now lay on their front, facing the King of Dreams with a wide grin, their cat-like tail swaying sinuously of its own accord.

“I desire nothing from you, save some answers.”

“Ooh. Is this a test?”

“Unity Kinkaid should’ve been the Vortex of this era,” he began without preamble. “But someone took advantage of my imprisonment and fathered a child with her, knowing full well that it would become the Vortex, and I would be forced to kill it.”

Desire's unrepentant smirk and relaxed posture spoke volumes to Morpheus. Their bearing betrayed not even a shred of regret.

Not that he'd expect anything less from the one who consistently went to extreme lengths solely to wreak havoc on his existence.

“Was I really that obvious?”

Morpheus's face contorted in exasperation, a sardonic smile playing across his lips. “No. You covered your tracks remarkably well.”

“That’s high praise coming from you,” Desire replied, straightening up with effortless grace.

“What did you truly intend? That I should spill family blood? With all that would entail?”

Desire made no attempt to justify their actions. Instead, they snickered, a broad and proud smile forming as they reveled in the intricacies of their scheme. “This time it almost worked.”

Morpheus recoiled at such a brazen admission, despite having anticipated it. A faint glimmer of hope had persisted that his suspicions might prove unfounded. Now, it seemed, the die was cast.

“My sibling. We of the Endless are the servants of the living, not their masters. We exist only because they know deep in their hearts that we exist. We do not manipulate them.”

He advanced, circling Desire slowly, a movement laden with multiple implications.

“If anything, they manipulate us,” he continued. “And you and Despair, and even poor Delirium would do well to remember that.”

He halted behind Desire, who tensed visibly in their seat.

“Your meddling with the Vortex, attempting to bring about my destruction through Rose Walker… that, I expected from you. But to involve her...” His eyes narrowed, a storm brewing behind his gaze.

Desire chuckled nervously, feigning innocence. "Ah, you mean your little mortal lover? I must say, I was quite intrigued by her charm. I merely wondered what captivates you about her, and if she might be easily swayed."

Morpheus' presence loomed behind them, an ominous shadow. “You attempted to use her against me, but she did not fall for your games.”

Desire’s smile faltered ever so slightly. “She was more resilient than most. But come now, dear brother, surely you can’t blame me for testing the waters. After all, love and desire are not so different, are they?”

Morpheus’s voice dropped, a chill entering his tone. “Do not mistake your nature for mine. Love is not a weapon to be wielded.”

“But isn’t that exactly what you fear, my sweet Dream? That your precious love could be your undoing?”

"Your aim was to ensnare her in your schemes, to draw her into your web of deceit. You have underestimated her. She is far beyond your reckoning—as am I. I shall not permit you to transmute her feelings into something malicious."

Desire's grin widened. "What can I say? She's a tantalizing blend of vitality and promise, an irresistible temptation to one such as myself."

In a swift motion, Morpheus seized Desire's hair, yanking their head back as he finally snapped. He leaned in close, his face mere inches from their nose, eyes blazing with barely contained fury. “Mess with me or mine again and I shall forget you are family.”

A foreboding silence ensued.

“Do you believe yourself strong enough to stand against me? Against Death? Against Destiny?”

Desire's crimson lips pressed into a firm line, their shoulders quivering from the strained position, and from something else entirely.

After a tense pause, they choked out a reluctant reply. “No.”

Morpheus released his grip, roughly shoving Desire's head forward, then strode away. “Remember that next time you’re inspired to interfere in my affairs.”

"Oh, poor Dream. I really got under your skin this time, didn’t I?" Desire mused, though their brother had already returned to his own realm, beyond the reach of their taunting words.

Their toothy grin then faded, replaced by a more serious, menacing stance. “Next time, I’ll draw blood.”

The ominous declaration hung in the air, audible only to Desire in the unsettling silence of their domain.

You were utterly astonished, your breath caught in your throat and your eyes widened in disbelief. Morpheus had invited you to stay in his realm for what would feel like several days to you, though it would translate to mere hours in the Waking World. His intention was to provide you with a peaceful interlude, free from any tumultuous events and offering you an extended respite from your professional responsibilities.

To accommodate your stay, a private room had been meticulously arranged for you atop one of the castle's loftiest towers. Its walls were painted in velvety shades of blue and purple, the colors transforming subtly as if alive. They flowed into one another like liquid silk, creating a gentle, mesmerizing motion around you. In the center, against the back wall, stood a magnificent canopy bed. Its frame, carved from dark, polished wood, featured intricate designs that seemed to weave a tale of ancient dreams.

The canopy itself was draped with gauzy, shimmering fabrics that sparkled as if woven with stardust, catching the light from crystals hanging above like a chandelier. The bedspread, a rich deep blue with silvery threads running through it, created patterns of constellations mirroring the night sky outside.

Around the room, clusters of moonflowers bloomed, their petals pulsing faintly with an otherworldly luminescence. The air was infused with their delicate, sweet fragrance, which mingled with a faint, earthy scent from large amethysts strategically placed throughout the space. The crystals emitted a soft radiance, creating a soothing atmosphere that calmed the mind.

Glass doors, framed by heavy curtains that echoed the room's rich hues, opened onto a spacious balcony. As you stepped out, a breathtaking panorama unfolded before you—an endless expanse of the Dreaming. Rolling landscapes stretched from lush forests to serene lakes, all bathed in the pale glow of a gracefully arcing crescent moon. The stars seemed impossibly close, larger and brighter than you'd ever seen, as if you could simply reach out and pluck them from the sky.

On the balcony, a couple of chairs and a small table were arranged for quiet contemplation of the realm's beauty. Silver vines, sparkling like frost, entwined the railings. The flooring appeared to contain a living galaxy, trapped within its surface.

You were gazing at a true sanctuary, a place so magical and fabulous that you almost feared staining it with your shoes. Yet, no matter how many times you paced back and forth to admire it, everything remained incredibly pristine.

"Morpheus, I... this is..." you stammered, your voice quivering with emotion. "I'm completely at a loss for words," you finally managed, overwhelmed by the sight before you.

Morpheus, who had been observing you quietly from the entrance, offered a contented smile. "I gather you find it to your liking," he remarked, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

Your eyes lit up with joy, a wide grin spreading across your face. "Like it? Morpheus, I absolutely adore it! It's beyond anything I could have ever imagined."

He stepped forward, gently taking your hands, a gesture you immediately reciprocated. "You deserve this and more."

"You're amazing. I've said it before, but I feel compelled to reiterate just how incredible you are."

Morpheus's deep, cerulean eyes softened, his cool touch grounding you amid the surreal wonder of your surroundings. The faint light in the room reflected off his pale features, accentuating the timeless beauty of the Dream Lord. His smile, typically reserved, broadened at your words, revealing a rare glimpse of warmth.

"You flatter me," Morpheus replied, his voice like a gentle breeze that stirred the petals of the moonflowers nearby. "But the Dreaming is as much yours as it is mine. Here, you are not bound by the limits of your world. Let your imagination run free, for it is your dreams that shape this place.”

You shook your head. "No, Morpheus. It's your essence that keeps this realm alive. I'm eternally grateful that you've allowed me to experience even the tiniest fragment of it."

"All that I am, all that the Dreaming encompasses... it would be but half as vibrant without your presence within it."

You chuckled, planting a soft kiss on his cheek and giving his hands a gentle squeeze before releasing them. "I see. We could go on praising each other endlessly if we don't stop now."

Morpheus' smile persisted, a wordless acknowledgment of your observation. Indeed, he would express his admiration and love for you in countless ways, for as long as you lived.

Upon turning, your attention was drawn to an item that had escaped your initial inspection. A dark nightgown rested elegantly across the bed, its fabric decorated with tiny, shimmering filaments that also sparkled like distant stars. Approaching it, you marveled at its elegance, your fingers gliding over the smooth, luxurious material.

"Is it possible for me to stay here?" you inquired. "Wouldn't my physical presence in the Dreaming disrupt the natural order of the universe, or something?"

"I've granted you permission to stay," Morpheus assured. "The Dreaming recognizes and respects your reverence for it."

"The Dreaming is important to me."

"You are under my protection. While the Dreaming is not a place for mortals to explore in their waking, you possess a unique understanding of it."

Lapsing into silence, you began removing your shirt, the hem gradually rising past your arms, chest, and head. Morpheus respectfully averted his gaze, staring out at the dream sky as you changed. His consideration for your privacy was incredibly sweet and tender, especially given the number of times he had seen you naked.

You offered a sheepish smile, though he couldn't see it. Carefully, you removed your shoes, stepped out of your jeans, and deftly unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor. The ambient air caused your nipples to harden, prompting you to instinctively cross your arms over your chest.

For a moment, you longed for his eyes to caress your form, for him to reach you and envelop you in his embrace, to press his lips against yours, to lose yourselves in passionate intimacy. Ultimately, you realized that despite your desires, the moment wasn't opportune. You had endured a long day filled with ceaseless events, each more intense than the last. Morpheus intended for you to rest, and try as you might to deny it, you could feel fatigue creeping in.

You took the nightgown, slipping your arms through the openings, and gently pulled it on. As the fabric cascaded down your body, it felt as if a pair of soft, velvety hands were sliding over you, a sensation both comforting and ethereal. For a moment, you stood mesmerized, staring at the nightgown adorned with glittering stars. The celestial pattern flowed from the delicate straps to the black lacy hem that brushed your thighs.

Ready for bed, you moved your bare feet across the polished floor, its surface lukewarm against your soles. Morpheus turned to face you, his visage fixed upon you with a concentration that quickened your pulse. His eyes lingered, his expression a mixture of awe and adoration. For a moment, he was rendered speechless.

You smiled, a playful glint in your eyes. “What is it? Do I look weird?”

Morpheus moved towards you, coming to a stop mere inches away. "No," he murmured, his voice as soft as a gentle breeze. "You look exquisite."

A warm blush crept across your cheeks, suffusing your face with color. “You really think so?”

He reached out, gently taking your hand in his once more. "You are more beautiful than all the dreams I’ve ever crafted."

“You keep saying that.”

“It is true.”

You pressed yourself against him, nestling into the crook of his neck. "You make me feel so good about myself," you whispered. "Truly special."

"You are. Beyond words or measure."

"I wish I could stay here with you forever."

His fingers curled around the material of your nightgown, circling your waist. "You may return whenever you wish, my love. For you, the Dreaming will always be open."

Morpheus possessed a remarkable ability to ground you, instilling a sense of belonging wherever you went, provided he remained by your side.

And so, you inhaled his intoxicating scent, brushing the tip of your nose along his jaw and cheek, bringing your lips tantalizingly close to his. Your breathing quickened as your mind wandered to all the intimate possibilities awaiting you, right there in that room, on that bed, with your body adorned in that breathtaking nightgown.

You kissed him, slow and deep, your fingers weaving through his hair. It was a passionate endeavor to kindle his passion, to tempt him into abandoning his restraint. But you should have known better; his resolve was as unyielding as a mountain.

"My love," he breathed, his lips barely parted, your eyes half-lidded.

“Yes?”

"You need rest," he said, his voice a calming reminder.

"I need you, Morpheus. I want you so badly right now."

Your boldness surprised even you, but given your recent trip to Cape Kennedy and the partial destruction his realm had faced due to the Vortex, you'd hardly had time to savor his company.

Though undeniably tired, your crave for him surpassed your physical weariness.

He claimed your lips again, exhaling softly as his body tensed against yours. However, just as you thought he was about to fulfill your yearning, Morpheus pulled away.

“You don’t want to…?” you asked, your lips forming a disappointed pout.

"I do. But your well-being takes precedence. Sleep now, my love. There will be ample time for that, and anything else you may wish for."

As he spoke, his fingertips caressed your cheek with heartwarming tenderness, leaving a trail of excitement in their wake. Leaning into his touch, you tilted your head slightly and released a trembling sigh. “I’m sorry.”

"You need not apologize to me."

"I don't want to come across as pushy or make you feel uncomfortable in any way."

"Y/N, I would never dismiss your advances.”

"Even if I become overly demanding?"

"You could demand the entire universe, and I would rearrange the stars and planets to give it to you."

You laughed, enveloping his neck with your arms and planting a final, impish kiss on his lips. "I'd appreciate it, but perhaps we should leave the cosmos as it is."

Subduing your appetite for him, you disengaged from Morpheus and tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear. But just as you prepared to return to the bed, the Endless bent down, scooped you up by your legs, and cradled you in his arms bridal style.

It was unexpected, but so delightful that you immediately relaxed against his chest. “What are you doing?” you queried, your eyes twinkling with amusement.

A rare gleam of mischief flickered on his face. “I am ensuring that your journey into sleep is as peaceful as the dreams that await you.”

"My, my, you never cease to surprise me, Dream King."

You draped one arm around his shoulder for support while bringing your other hand to rest gently on the nape of his neck. Unable to resist his nearness, you peppered his lips, chin, and temple with delicate kisses.

At times, you worried about being too clingy or intrusive, but Morpheus had never expressed or shown any form of opposition.

The trek from the balcony window to the bed seemed all too fleeting, and as he carefully placed you on the mattress, you found yourself reluctant to let go.

The covers had been magically lowered, beckoning you to sink into the pillows and let the sheets embrace your legs. The mattress was as plush as a cloud, gently hugging your body as you sank into its softness.

"Will I still be able to dream, even though I'm already in the Dreaming?" you asked, curiosity lacing your voice.

"Yes. The Dreaming reflects your mind, desires, and fears. Here, your dreams may spring to life, more vivid and interwoven with the world around you. They might merge with reality, bearing greater significance and substance."

Your eyelids grew heavy. "My dreams are always vivid, particularly those featuring you."

He stroked your hair, pulling the covers up to your chest. You felt as though you were bathing in a sea of stars, with the lively shimmer and constellations dancing all around you. "Then, let me reveal to you even more—all the wonders my realm has to offer."

Tiredness crept through you and shrouded your thoughts. The delectable scent of moonflower soothed your senses, while Morpheus's lips on your forehead cocooned you in a tranquil haze.

"Goodnight, Mr. Sandman," you said teasingly, an utterance which made him smile anew.

Your grip on him loosened as sleep overtook you. Morpheus watched your resting form, his eyes filled with wonder, as if beholding the most magnificent celestial being in all of creation.

"Sleep well, my heart. Know that I am with you in every shadow and every star. May the Dreaming guide you to a peaceful slumber."

His words vibrated in the recesses of your consciousness.

"Until dawn summons you back to me."

Tall grass brushed against your hands with remarkable clarity, and every color and detail stood out vividly, even in the nocturnal atmosphere. Towering trees loomed above, their leaves gleaming under an unseen moon. Cool air carried the scent of earth and pine, infused with a subtle magic that made each breath invigorating.

A mystical forest materialized before you, a scene glimpsed in previous dreams, yet now strikingly different. Your heightened awareness went beyond your typical dream lucidity, resulting in something you could easily mistake for reality.

In a sense, it actually was, for the Dreaming existed as a tangible dimension.

As you ventured deeper into the forest, the path beneath your bare feet began to glow with celestial light, guiding you forward. Your nightgown complemented the luminous trail, its imbued glitters sparkling with each step.

Emerging from the woods, you discovered a lake of spectacular radiance, its surface covered by an almost blinding blue energy, as if it were a pool of liquid sapphire. It resembled tonic water under UV light.

The air was rich with earthy aromas; damp soil, wildflowers, and fresh grass, mingled with the subtle sweetness of mixed herbs and trees. Perhaps palm or willow contributed to this intoxicating blend.

However, the scene was not yours alone to witness. At the lake's edge stood a magnificent deer, its form adorned with green patterns that swirled across its body in intricate designs. The creature appeared awe-inspiring, regal and enchanting in its beauty. Its grace seemed almost sculpted from the dreams themselves.

As the splendid animal turned its neck to face you, its identity became unmistakable.

"It's you," you declared, closing the distance between you and the familiar. "I've been wondering where you went."

He inclined his head, a gentle smile in his eyes. "Y/N, it's wonderful to have you here."

"This place is fantastic," you expressed. "It's as if it's been lifted from the pages of a fantasy novel."

"Like a dream come true?" he asked, his voice gentle and melodious.

You bent forward, delicately running your hand along the deer's neck. "Exactly.”

"This forest is a manifestation born from the very essence of your dreams," he explained.

The patterns on its fur seemed to dance in harmony with the lake's melodious ripples, reflecting in your eyes. They seemed to incorporate elements from Native American folklore and Celtic traditions, subjects that had always fascinated you in books and films.

You smiled, turning your attention to the luminous surface of the water. "What kind of lake is this? I've never seen anything like it.”

"It is formed from your spirit as well. The Dreaming molds itself to your subconscious."

Surrounded by the forest's brilliance and comforted by your familiar's presence, you felt a powerful connection to both the Dreaming and Morpheus. His care to you infused every aspect of your dreams, embedded into each detail, from the gentle rustle of leaves to the faintest whisper of wind.

"If you wish, you can peer into the water and observe the thoughts lurking just beneath your conscious mind. It's a mirror of self-discovery, offering a glimpse into parts of yourself that often remain veiled from awareness."

"Will it be scary?"

"It depends on your perspective," he replied thoughtfully. "Some mortals might find this daunting or unsettling, as it could bring up fears and guilt they're not yet prepared to face."

“Sounds harsh.”

"It can be. But you, my dear, will be just fine."

With a mixture of worry and trepidation, you approached the azure expanse and knelt at its edge. As you looked into the water, your reflection stared back at you, but it wasn't just your own image you noticed there. The surface immediatly revealed scenes from your life, both waking and dreaming, flashing across it like an animated slideshow of memories. Each scene was connected by even more glowing threads that took form, extending from the deer's fur to the lake itself in a delicate web of light.

Visions of your childhood flashed across the surface, moments of joy and tranquility shared with your father or spent in peaceful solitude. Your teenage self appeared next, sketching and planning dreams that would take years to materialize. A more recent picture followed: you with tears streaming down your face as fears about your future tore at your heart. Then Hob's warm smile came into view, followed by the kindly faces of Mr. Burgess and Mr. McGuire.

But there was more. Shadows expanded like black ink, staining parts of the moving canvas and distorting the images. The sight disoriented you, but only for a moment, as you recognized it as nothing more than a recreation of your darkest feelings; loneliness, anger, and pain.

All things you believed you had moved past, but clearly hadn't fully processed yet.

Finally, you saw Morpheus, seated in the glass bowl in the basement, a poignant reminder of your first encounter. Your relationship played like a documented love story, with scenes switching from one to another in a never-ending transition of moments. As the images flowed, the lake's radiance grew more intense. The water sparkled with an increasingly vivid glow, showcasing the depth and richness of your flashbacks.

Your eyes stung, yet tears didn't fall. The rolling clips formed a mosaic of emotions, where deep sorrow merged with pure joy, creating a bittersweet movie of your life's journey.

“Are you okay?” The deer asked, nuzzling your hair.

"Yes. This is really nice, actually."

"I am here with you, and so is the Dreaming. Always, Y/N."

“I know.”

You reached out to stroke him again, your fingers tracing each contour of his green swirls. You settle more comfortably onto the grass, your nightgown spreading around you like a silken carpet, now expanding gracefully to the ground.

"Morpheus mentioned that I could give you a name. And I believe you really need one at this point."

His eyes widened with intrigue. "A name? I hadn't considered that possibility."

"Would you like me to find it for you?"

“I mean… I suppose? Surely you can conjure something imaginative for a Dream like me.”

You furrowed your brow, deep in thought. Your extensive reading had introduced you to a treasure trove of captivating names and terms. One of them would certainly be fitting for your familiar deer. You wanted something meaningful, an appellation as majestic as he appeared to be.

"Let's see. Morpheus created you as a guide, and right now, you shine like a beacon in the night."

"Ah, I like where this is going," he said, his ears perking up with interest.

"Stars have long been used for navigation too. Are you familiar with Peter Pan? There's a famous quote: 'Second star to the right and straight on till morning.'"

Indeed, celestial imagery had become a recurring motif in your experiences within the Dreaming.

“Star… ‘Sic itur ad astra’, 'thus one journeys to the stars’. That’s what Virgil wrote in the Aeneid.”

The deer nodded attentively.

“Star. Astrum in latin, and ‘astron’ from ancient Greek. Astrum’s accusative plural form is in fact, ‘Astra’.”

In that moment, inspiration struck like lightning. "Hold on—'Astra'!"

Faced with a destructive force threatening the Dreaming and mortals losing their connection to the realm, Morpheus crafted a familiar to walk beside you in his absence. Like a celestial compass, the deer navigated you through the shadows, guiding you back to the right path whenever you lost your way. Such a name could not have been more appropriate.

He pranced excitedly. "That's quite impressive! You don’t disappoint."

"So, what do you think? Does it suit you?"

"It’s great!”

His enthusiasm was touching, and you delighted in the way he expressed his happiness, frolicking and pirouetting to an invisible rhythm.

He cleared his throat, assuming a solemn stance in front of you, and performed a reverent bow. "I, Astra of the Dreaming, vow to be your guiding star, now and forevermore."

A sense of warmth and gratitude filled your heart. He drew near, allowing you to cradle his muzzle in your hands as your forehead touched his. The green patterns adorning his fur intensified their luminescence, while your Moonstone pendant responded with its characteristic blue gleam.

A new bond was forming, a promise sealed by the very fabric of the universe.

Unbeknownst to you, the Dreaming was seamlessly intertwining with your essence, just as you had become an inseparable part of its grand design.

Several hours passed before you opened your eyes to find the sky had transformed into bright daylight. Your room remained as fantastical as it had been at night, though the overall magic was more pronounced in the darkness. You stretched your arms and took a deep breath, feeling your entire body rejuvenated in a way that defied description.

Rising from bed, you stepped onto the balcony and gazed in awe at the lively spectacle of the Dreaming unfurling before you. The greenery was even more lively and dazzling, while the sky stretched out like a clear, infinite canvas.

You returned inside, a bright smile adorning your face. As your eyes swept the room, you caught sight of something voluminous hanging from the canopy on the other side of the bed. It was a dress you instantly recognized, one that had adorned you in your dreams before. Evidently, it had captivated Morpheus’ attention, standing out among the myriad outfits you'd worn during your nocturnal adventures.

You ran your fingers along the dress's lengthy gown, admiring its softness and lightness. The Endless’ devotion to every detail your conscious mind conjured was a testament to his deep affection for you; he felt compelled to not only track those elements but also manifest them in physical form within his realm. At that moment, you felt certain that there was nothing he couldn't provide for you.

As it turned out, the room held even more surprises in store.

Your exploration led you to a stunning wardrobe tucked away in a distant corner, crafted from ancient wood and embellished with intricate gold carvings. As you opened its doors, you gasped audibly at the spectacular array of dream dresses inside, each one perfectly aligned, flawless embodiments of your creations.

But there was more. Upon checking the first drawer, you couldn't suppress a giggle upon discovering an elegant lingerie collection, perfectly folded and displayed as if in a high-end boutique. Though not overtly provocative, the pieces reflected Morpheus' refined taste and his preference for you.

It was exceptional, a level of care and consideration you couldn't expect from anyone else. It all made you feel at home, as if you had just begun to truly live there.

Smiling, you chose an elegantly embroidered set of undergarments, ready to begin your first full day in the Dreaming. The best aspect of that extraordinary sojourn outside your familiar world was the genuine feeling of wonder it evoked. Every moment unveiled itself as an authentic revelation, each one a miniature miracle in its own right.

Just as you thought you had unveiled all the room's secrets, you discovered a mysterious door partially concealed within the wall—one you were certain hadn't been there the night before. Carefully, you placed your hand on the golden handle, turning it slowly, until you heard a soft click. The door swung open, inviting you to step into the unknown.

What appeared before you made your knees weak, and you had to brace yourself against the doorframe, mouth agape and a hand pressed against your chest. You blinked repeatedly, your eyes widening in disbelief as they took in the vast, fantastical spa-like bathroom before you. Polished amethyst lined the walls, casting a soothing purple luminosity that danced across the crystalline surfaces and complemented the bedroom's decor. The air was infused with the calming scent of lavender, enveloping you like a sweet embrace.

At the room's center stood the focal point: a Greek-inspired bathing pool seamlessly integrated into the floor. Smooth stone bordered it, covered in intricate engravings of old symbols and designs that seemed to undulate with the flickering light. The water, crystal-clear, fresh, and pure, was in constant motion, regenerated by a neverending current. Its surface sparkled with a faint iridescence, reminiscent of the lake in your dream, inviting and warm.

At the far end stood a fountain, similar to the famous statues you'd encountered in museums and presenting a similarity to those in Morpheus’ throne room. The soothing sound of water cascading into the pool sent pleasant shivers down your spine, creating an atmosphere of ultimate relaxation.

You twirled around, hands clasped over your mouth, laughing in amazement. More Amethyst crystals of various sizes were scattered throughout, adorning the stones, ceiling, and columns, adding to the room's ambiance.

However, what you found incredibly shocking were the basins and sanitary fixtures, their surfaces glinting with a soft luster. Morpheus had accounted for every aspect of human physiology, attending to every facet of it. While it might have been embarrassing to contemplate, you were far too stunned to feel self-conscious about it.

A plush seating area was included, with soft towels and robes made of the finest materials, ready for you to use before, or after your bath. Makeup supplies were arranged on a table, complemented by a hairbrush and what appeared to be the Dreaming's version of essential oils.

As a final touch, Morpheus had added a large mirror, also decorated with gold and a hint of something more—perhaps moonlight itself captured and forged into a frame.

Words failed to express your emotional state, for such lavish treatment seemed befitting only of a king's devotion to his queen.

Accentuated by the joyful occurrence, you wanted nothing more than to become Morpheus' true partner in his realm. Your heart fluttered with the fervent hope that one day, in the not-too-distant future, you might join in matrimony with the Lord of Dreams himself.

Somehow, someway, as improbable as it seemed. It was an idea taking shape in your mind, one you wanted to indulge in for a while.

Feeling refreshed and clad in your newly acquired attire, you settled onto the balcony, allowing the Dreaming's breeze to caress your gown and hair. You were aware that Morpheus had numerous responsibilities, including ongoing repairs in the wake of the Vortex incident. You didn't mind that he wasn't there to greet you, because you knew he would always keep a watchful eye on you.

Lost in your reverie, you were startled by a gentle knock at the door. It opened softly to reveal Lucienne, bearing a tray laden with what looked like an exquisitely prepared breakfast. Her smile radiated warmth, and her demeanor exuded respect and kindness.

"Good morning, my lady. I trust you slept well?"

My lady…?

"I did, thank you, Lucienne. But please, there's no need for such formality. We're friends, after all."

"You are an honored guest at the moment," she stated. "It is of utmost importance that you are treated as Lord Morpheus desires."

With a dismissive wave of your hand, you said, "Oh, come now. I'm certain Morpheus won't take issue if you treat me as you normally would. I may be a waking guest at present, but I've visited the Dreaming countless times in my dreams."

Lucienne's tension visibly eased at your words, her smile broadening with sincere friendliness. “You really don’t know how important you are, do you?”

"I'm not really that important. I'm just… me. I'm the same person you found in the throne room months ago."

She placed the tray on the table, pouring inviting tea into a cup. She artfully arranged fresh fruit in a glass bowl, and set out a small plate with a pastry that looked too delectable to eat. But what sent your mind reeling was the aroma of bacon and eggs, smoky as though they had just been prepared.

"And how many dreamers have reached Lord Morpheus' castle during the Sleepy Sickness?” She quipped. “It is not even possible without his explicit permission, unless you are a Vortex. I recognized your uniqueness even then."

"I think that was more his doing, but... fair enough."

“Lord Morpheus has ensured that your breakfast is to your liking,” she said with pride. "Take your time and enjoy. He will be with you shortly.”

The bacon was perfectly juicy, just as you preferred it. The eggs were flawlessly cooked (you wondered if they were even created manually) with pristine whites and yolks that resembled liquid gold. The fruit platter displayed a selection of the plumpest, most luscious blueberries, blackberries, and strawberries you'd ever laid eyes on. The pastry, a slice of rich, velvety cheesecake drizzled with melted caramel, looked positively divine. The tea's aroma wafted through the air, a delightful blend of sweet vanilla and zesty citrus notes.

You were certain that every bite and sip would be nothing short of heavenly.

"Thank you, Lucienne. I truly appreciate this."

Maintaining her professional composure, Lucienne departed with a reverent bow, leaving you to your peaceful corner in solitude. As you gazed at your breakfast with a growing appetite, you realized that even winning the lottery couldn't compare to the extraordinary hospitality you were receiving.

Perfectly content with a full stomach and properly brushed teeth (yes, the bathroom even had a toothbrush for you with the necessities), you tidied up the table and set the tray aside. Your original clothes were neatly placed on a small couch in front of the bed, along with your forgotten bag, which you wouldn't really need. Your phone retained its charge, but predictably, there was no signal available. You switched it off completely to avoid unnecessary battery drain.

Given the difference in time flow between realms, you knew your absence from the Waking World would likely go unnoticed—or at least be perceived as brief compared to your stay in Morpheus’ realm.

True to Lucienne's word, the Endless appeared shortly after, his arrival as silent and graceful as a cat's. He manifested silently behind you, his breath warm against your ear, his hands gently resting on your waist. The moment felt intimate and romantic, like newlyweds sharing their first day together. You caught yourself, suddenly aware that your imagination might be getting a bit carried away.

"Thank you for this," you expressed. "It's been absolutely wonderful."

"I am pleased, my love," he replied. "And you are truly a vision to behold."

"I see you've been paying close attention to my wardrobe choices."

"I attend to every detail that concerns you."

"I can see that. And honestly, I have no grounds for complaint."

Turning in his embrace, you planted a delicate kiss on his lips. "I'm curious. What else do you have in store for me?"

"There is a task that requires my attention, and I wish for you to accompany me."

“Of course! What is it about?”

His hands trailed along your arms with a slow, gentle caress. "Would you care to observe me work?" he asked.

You arched an eyebrow, intrigued. "Really? You mean, like watching you create things?"

“New Dreams and Nightmares.”

"Oh, I'd love to see that!"

His characteristic subtle grin betrayed how deeply your enthusiasm filled him with pride and satisfaction.

“Then, come with me,” he invited, extending his hand with an elegant flourish.

You grasped it firmly, ready to embarking on a new adventure with the King of Dreams. Your anticipation grew as you prepared to explore more of his daily routine, in a world that differed exponentially from yours.

The possibilities were boundless, with no path set in stone. Your imagination was the only limit, as every thought and desire that crossed your mind could shape and fall within your grasp without constraint.

Thus, finding yourself in Morpheus' work area, you weren't surprised to see that he had chosen a seraphic beach. The calm sea waves lulled you, while the surrounding mountains created a Nordic atmosphere, with just the right amount of stillness in the air. In a way, it mirrored your own dreamscape, deepening your link with him.

You observed Morpheus standing before partially formed creations, beings yet to be fully defined and brought to life. He gazed at them in contemplation, hands clasped together, his head tilted slightly. As you watched, one of the figures’ face morphed according to his vision.

He remained silent, and you matched his quietude, perched on a nearby rock, taking care not to disturb his concentration. As an artist yourself, you comprehended the importance of uninterrupted focus.

The sky was dotted with scattered clouds, casting a somber mood, while occasional sunbeams pierced through the gloom. The weather was intentional, with not a single element left to chance.

You adored every aspect of it, the Lord of Dreams and his realm in all their multifaceted glory.

Eventually, Lucienne returned, walking calmly towards you and Morpheus with a book in her hands. It was a new piece of literature that had just appeared in the library: "Into The Night," a fantasy novel Rose Walker would write in the near future. The idea that any story could be found in the Dreaming before its author had even put pen to paper was mind-boggling. You felt a flood of happiness for Rose, knowing her long-cherished dream would become reality, a future she had yet to discover.

Morpheus then entrusted the Corinthian's small skull to Lucienne, asking her to safeguard it for him. She took it without any hesitation, offering a wider smile as the silver ring on her pinky caught a glint of the subdued light.

“Lucienne. Do you not wish to say hello?”

Right before the librarian could retreat, her footsteps silent on the ground, Morpheus' voice rang out, halting her departure. His newest creation, a humanoid silhouette formed from dense purple and blue smoke, seemed vaguely familiar, yet you couldn’t exactly place where you had seen it before.

The Dream expanded and transformed, revealing an evolved form you finally recognized from your recent dream visit. Before you stood none other than Gault, the Nightmare Morpheus had once banished for challenging the Dreaming's balance and rules, now reborn from her former essence. As butterfly-like wings unfurled from her back, she shrugged her shoulders, adjusting to the unexpected metamorphosis. Her eyes opened, revealing first a glimmer of confusion, then shock as she noticed the fluttering membranes.

“I merely wish to be a Dream and not a Nightmare. To inspire rather than to freighten.”

“The choice is not yours to make. We do not choose to be created. Nor do we choose how we are made.”

You inhaled sharply at the spectacle. Like a caterpillar, Gault had emerged as the new version of herself, elevated to the status of Dream after enduring such a painful time as a harbinger of fear.

Lucienne, for her part, was equally overjoyed. “You look gorgeous, Gault.”

Gault's jubilation could be perceived through the blissful smile illuminating her dark complexion. She stepped forward, looking at her appearance in disbelief. “Thank you, Lucienne!”

She was stunning, a living embodiment of an authentic fairytale. The same delicate purple cracks and lightning patterns she bore as a Nightmare still traced along her body, accentuating her unique presence.

“May I ask what made you change your mind about me, sir?” She asked Morpheus.

“I had no right returning here after over a century expecting everything to be just as I left it. Lucienne tried to tell me that. So did you.”

His gaze briefly met yours, seeking a moment of connection. “But now I’m listening.”

Your eyes glistened at Morpheus' growth. His willingness to reconsider past decisions and embrace change signaled a significant shift in his character.

You never saw malice or wrongdoing in Morpheus' actions, always understanding that his choices were necessary for both the Dreaming and the sake of the Waking World. However, you couldn't help but find it endearing to see him soften towards his Nightmare's wish.

“Or trying to,” he concluded, glancing towards Lucienne again.

The librarian was touched and satisfied with her lord's new interpretation of the rules. They exchanged a silent look of complicity, one that demonstrated their enduring trust would transcend centuries of separation.

“New Dreams,” he declared. “New Nightmares. A new age.”

How had you found yourself in such a privileged position? Being present in the world of dreams had already proven invaluable, despite only a few hours passing since your awakening. You were amazed by the serendipity that had brought you to that point, allowed to explore the creation of dreams firsthand.

“Miss Y/LN, I present you Dream of the Endless.”

Who could have imagined that a humble job as a maid would blossom into a love surpassing the vastness of the universe and all conceivable realities?

“Thank you, sir.”

Gault's wings undulated in unison, their pace quickening as they sent gentle gusts of wind your way. She ascended from the ground, flying higher into the sky towards the sun. She embarked on her new calling, seeking dreamers to inspire, fulfilling the very dream she had long held for herself. The three of you looked at her soaring form until she became nothing more than a twinkling speck in the distance, like a fairy vanishing into the heavens.

The scene was breathtakingly beautiful and poetic, something worth seeing with your own eyes.

“I might be here a while,” Morpheus said, addressing Lucienne. “Would you mind taking care of things while I work?”

“I am back now. You may return to the library.”

The stark contrast between his current statement and his previous one, the latter driven by anger and frustration over the Vortex claiming parts of his realm, did not escape the notice of either you or Lucienne.

The librarian, visibly moved by Morpheus' words, responded with a teary smile. “With pleasure, sir.”

Despite life's complexities, you couldn't help but relish in those moments of happy resolutions. While perhaps idealistic, they always warmed your heart in a way that was difficult to dismiss, even in the face of the inevitable ups and downs.

With a final nod, she turned and strode away confidently, carrying the power of the Dreaming with utmost diligence and care.

You waited for tranquility to settle over the scene again, leaving you and Morpheus alone in the serene surroundings.

Your smile spoke volumes without the need for words. As soon as he noticed it, he mimicked it with a restrained grin of his own. "What?"

Rising elegantly from the rock, your gown sweeping elegantly behind you, you moved toward him. "You have no idea how proud I am of you right now."

“Are you?”

"Yes. Gault is perfect, and you couldn't entrust your realm to better hands than Lucienne's."

"Y/N, you have been instrumental in bringing about these changes."

You blinked in surprise. "How so?"

"You possess wisdom and composure. You view everything from a distinct perspective, one that has never passed judgment on my decisions."

You smiled warmly. Your insights about change and the parallels you drew between his work and mortal creativity weren't intended to sway his perspective. Yet, as he acknowledged, Morpheus had truly taken your words to heart.

"For that, my love, I must express my deepest gratitude."

His lips caressed yours with a feather-light touch, his arms encircling your back in the sweetest enfolding gesture. The kiss tasted of midnight breeze, carrying whispers of starlight and moonlit gardens. An almost imperceptible flavor lingered, like the first sip of crystal-clear spring water after a long, arduous odyssey.

"Why are you so good to me, Morpheus?"

"I see no reason to treat you any differently."

You hummed contentedly against his neck, tightening your arms around it. "I hope you don't mind if I hold on to you for a while."

"On the contrary, I welcome it. You are a wellspring of inspiration."

As you stood in each other's arms, you felt the unmoving creatures behind you, their blank eyes and empty faces watching you both in silent witness.

“If that’s the case, then take all the inspiration you need from me.”

And so he did. His creativity flourished, and the Dreaming itself seemed to pulse with renewed energy and possibility.

Witnessing Morpheus craft his new subjects was incredibly entertaining, and his willingness to seek your input on his decisions filled your heart with elation. He deeply valued your human perspective and was committed to honoring it fully, incorporating your personal views and minor suggestions into some of his creations.

Throughout the day, Morpheus fretted that his tasks might bore you or that you could find your time in his realm filled with activities you weren't particularly interested in, but you consistently assured him of your fascination and expressed how fortunate you felt just to be there. You found time in the Dreaming passing far too quickly for your liking, a testament to how much you were enjoying yourself.

The only thing that began to concern you was the visible weariness on Morpheus' face, an understandable result of his ceaseless work. Although the King of Dreams required neither sleep nor sustenance, you realized that even an Endless like himself ought to take an occasional respite.

Thankfully, you persuaded him that operations were running smoothly and he had capable assistance at his disposal. Heeding your advice to step away from his responsibilities, Morpheus joined you for a walk through the palace's garden, another celestial oasis teeming with enchantment and ever-changing elements.

Some flowers' petals, like the walls in your room, glowed in a beautiful spectrum, switching from soft blues to pinks and purples. Other blossoms defied nature, appearing from thin air and floating like lanterns. Towering trees with silver-like bark stretched skyward, their translucent leaves unlike anything in the Waking World. Instead of water, streams of liquid light meandered through the ground, defeating logic as they formed from unseen sources. The air hummed with distant sounds, breezes rustling through trees, tinkling of invisible bells, and the quiet murmur of whispered dreams.

Morpheus remained silent, observing you as you explored the garden with childlike exuberance. He stood before you while you sat beneath one of the main arches, your gown cascading around your legs. You smiled, extending your hand to him in a wordless invitation.

Although his lips curved into a soft expression, you detected a hint of hesitation in his demeanor, as if he were uneasy about taking a moment's rest in his own domain.

"Come on, the ground won't swallow you whole."

He chuckled, taking your fingers in his and following your lead with curiosity brightening his face. You parted your legs to create a space between them, gently guiding him to turn around and sit with his back against you.

Initially perplexed, Morpheus wasn't sure what to expect from you. But as you encouraged him to recline, his head resting comfortably upon your chest, your intention became clear.

You encircled his torso with your arms and pressed your lips to his temple. "Hi," you said affectionately.

Morpheus exhaled, the weight of centuries momentarily lifting from his shoulders. For one who bore the vastness of dreams and the neverending burden of his duties, that moment of simplicity felt foreign, yet profoundly welcome.

“Hello,” he whispered back, his voice carrying a vulnerability you had never seen before.

“You don’t do this often, do you?” you asked quietly, your fingers bushing through his dark, tousled hair.

“I am not afforded the luxury of rest.”

"Well, even the Lord of Dreams needs some time to unwind every now and then."

Your hands rested gently on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath.

"You make it natural for me to let go," he proclaimed

"Then I'll be here to remind you whenever you need it."

He lifted your hand to his lips, planting a kiss on your knuckles. "And here I thought I would be the one caring for you."

“Does it bother you?”

“No. It is just… unfamiliar.”

You tilted your head slightly, waiting for him to continue.

“I have always been the protector, the guardian. To allow myself to be cared for is a vulnerability I have seldom embraced. But with you… it feels different. It feels… good.”

A tranquil sigh escaped your lips. "I told you. You don't have to do everything alone. Let me share the weight with you."

"My love, these burdens are not yours to bear."

“You’re wrong.”

“Why?”

"Have you forgotten my words at the convention? I vowed to be your light, regardless of the challenges you face.”

Unlike those who had forsaken him, you swore to stand by his side, come what may. Knowing of a sibling who seemed particularly invested in destroying Morpheus, you were even more determined to stand your ground for him.

You were even prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice, laying down your own life if it meant ensuring his safety and continued existence.

"As a mortal, my abilities may be limited, but my commitment to you runs deep. I want to be a place where you feel safe and appreciated. That's what being devoted to you means to me."

Morpheus closed his eyes, allowing his body to relax fully. Lying somewhere without defenses, doing absolutely nothing—an activity he had previously dismissed as unnecessary—had now become his absolute favorite pastime, provided you were the one supporting him.

“You already are,” he responded. “And with you, Y/N, I find that I do not mind it.”

Unity Kincaid had permanently left the Dreaming during one of your night retreats. Missing your final opportunity to bid her farewell left you with a twinge of regret, but Lucienne assured you that Unity had been escorted to her perfect resting place, where she now dwelled in peace.

As time passed in the Dreaming, you grew increasingly certain that no other journey or getaway could ever compare. It seemed impossible to experience anything more extraordinary, with every imaginable marvel lying within arm's reach.

Amidst the vast oases, mystical caves, and worlds blending fantastical and realistic features, along with the food and drinks you savored, you were at a loss for words to describe the peace it brought you. The castle was a dynamic maze, unveiling new rooms and mysteries each day.

Assisting Lucienne with organizing literature and archives proved surprisingly enjoyable. Matthew's companionship was invaluable, always ready with witty remarks to lighten the mood. Even the seemingly cantankerous Mervyn the Pumpkinhead turned out to be pleasant company during his maintenance. Gradually, each Dreaming entity was becoming significant, leaving an unforgettable impression upon your soul.

At the heart of it all was Morpheus, who transmuted the impossible into reality in ways beyond imagination.

In the end, just when you thought he was not particularly inclined, he granted you that precious time for intimacy you had long waited for. Morpheus exceeded expectations, enthusiastically extending these moments across multiple rendezvous, offering far more than you had initially requested.

The first time Morpheus made love to you in his realm, fully awake and present, it unfolded naturally, without premeditation or orchestration. What began as a leisurely stroll through one of your favorite spots in the Dreaming, hand in hand, soon blossomed into a passionate exchange. Your lips met in a heated dance, kisses deepening with each passing instant, your desire igniting like wildfire. Morpheus gently lowered you to the ground, cradling your body close to his, the soft grass and fragrant flowers yielding beneath you to create a natural bed.

Your clothes vanished in seconds, leaving your naked forms pressed against each other as he delivered a series of precise thrusts that sent waves of pleasure through your body. The grass transformed continuously, enveloping the two of you with its velvety blades like a supportive cuddle. As you connected with the King of Dreams, you also became intimately intertwined with the Dreaming itself, becoming an integral part of it, seamlessly incorporated into its very terrain.

The ecstasy crescendoed to its zenith. Morpheus, though withdrawn, remained atop you, kissing you and basking in your warmth. Your fingertips traced the contours of his back, feeling each defined nerve and muscle. Lean yet powerful, his form was both comforting and sculpted. The delicious feeling of his statuesque body against yours rekindled your arousal, one that burned equally in Morpheus as your lips locked in an infinite pas de deux.

While making love in your dreams was extraordinary, the reality surpassed it by leaps and bounds.

Soon, his body signaled his readiness to rejoin with yours again. He positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes seeking your approval before proceeding. “May I?”

His unwavering respect for you was admirable, his devotion relentless.

“Yes. Please.”

Never had you longed for someone as intensely as you wanted him. It was intoxicating, an irresistible addiction. The moment he entered, gliding through your slick folds and exploring your depths, your eyes rolled back in sheer bliss. You moaned and trembled, biting your lower lip and whining whenever he struck the right spot, your sensations heightened and reset.

Morpheus required at least three rounds in a row to feel thoroughly sated, yet the resulting soreness in your limbs didn't bother you in the slightest.

Nonetheless, he sought your private company again the following day.

Seated before the bathroom mirror and swathed in a silky robe that clung to your curves, you prepared for a luxurious soak in the pool before bed. As you delicately removed the last traces of makeup with the plushest towel, you barely noticed Morpheus suddenly standing just steps away.

As you turned around, your breath caught and you froze in astonishment. Despite your best efforts to contain it, the shock was evident on your face. Morpheus appeared before you completely nude, his alabaster skin radiant in the soft light. His form embodied the perfection of classical sculpture, an excellent vision of flawless beauty. His overall magnificence was so outstanding that it nearly overshadowed his raging erection, sturdy and proud, irresistibly tempting.

In a way, yes, but not exactly.

With a mischievous smile, you abandoned the softness of the stool to approach the King of Dreams, your eyes briefly pausing on the flushed tip of his arousal before meeting his face. Confident and majestic, he waited for you to draw near, his jaw tightening as your robe loosened, revealing more with each step.

“Were you thinking of me?” you asked with a smile, sliding your fingertips along his chest, your lips mere inches away from his.

“My thoughts are always with you, my love,” he answered naturally.

You moved lower, grasping his length with your hand, guiding it in a slow, gentle motion. "It seems you're particularly pleased to see me."

“’Pleased’ is not quite the word I would choose.”

You circled his tip with your thumb, teasing the sensitive flesh. “Oh? And how would you describe it?”

He swallowed, his lips parting to release a soft sigh of relief. "I would describe it as... inevitable."

“Inevitable?”

"It is as inescapable as the pull of the tide or the turning of the stars. When you are absent, the Dreaming seems diminished, as if a vital part of me is missing."

Your stomach twisted, and your heart raced. “You saw me just an hour ago.”

"You are here, within the boundless walls of my realm. I am loath to squander even a minute of it."

Your smile widened with love. “Well, in that case…”

As you released him, your hand took his, which lay motionless at his side. Untying the sash of your robe, the garment fell open, revealing your womanhood and the swell of your breasts. You guided his index and middle fingers to your core, their tips slipping through your wetness and barely dipping inside.

Your knees quivered at the contact, but you held firm. “I’d say this is inevitable as well,” you concluded.

He inhaled sharply, the sound echoing in the intimate silence between you, a wordless understanding passing as he leaned closer. Your lips met in a tender kiss, sealing a moment rich with unspoken promises.

"You have an uncanny ability to enthrall an Endless."

“Are you suggesting that I'm driving you wild?”

"Perhaps," he mused, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "But only in the most delightful ways," he added, his voice full of affection.

You draped an arm around his shoulders, pressing your forehead against his cheek. His hand moved away, leaving you empty and craving more, only to pull you into his arms. He kissed your eyebrow and the bridge of your nose, treasuring the melodic sound of your soft chuckle reverberating through the spacious room.

As you gracefully retreated, your robe fell to the floor, uncovering the rest of your body. His eyes traveled from your neck, rested on the glowing Dreamstone, then trailed down to your nipples. He admired every curve, each detail a testament to the allure that attracted him. The air charged with anticipation as he advanced, once again grasping your hand in his.

Shifting aside, you led him backward to the pool's steps. Cautiously, you eased into the glistening water, the steam cloaking you both like a gossamer veil. The crystal-like liquid engulfed your feet, legs, and waist until it reached your shoulders. Morpheus followed, his hardness bobbing as he descended the marble stairs, submerging himself to chest level.

He could transform even such an erotic view into the highest form of art. He was absolutely hypnotic, something to admire without a trace of shame or embarrassment.

Holding onto his shoulders for support, you hooked your legs around his waist, the water's buoyancy aiding your graceful movement, as if you were weightless. Morpheus immediately clasped your thighs, aligning himself with your open folds and brushing his lips along your cheek. The fountain's sound created a heavenly retreat, its soft trickle providing a soothing backdrop.

With just a few more kisses, he cast aside any inhibition and entered you in one fluid motion. You moaned, adjusting your position to allow him to set the rhythm, and surrendered to his growing ardor as he moved in and out. Your bodies undulated together, the soft splashes of water creating a symphony.

Time seemed to fade away as the purple hue of the crystals illuminated the pool, generating a beautiful gradient transition. Morpheus' movements grew more erratic and fervent, eventually pressing you against the edge of the pool to gain leverage. His muscles tensed and rippled, his deep groans pulsating through his chest.

Your voice escaped you, uncontrolled, as you arched your back, overcome with intense pleasure. Your fingers interlaced with his dark locks, your nails gently grazing his scalp in a soothing caress. Morpheus was relentless, enraptured by your moans and how your body responded to his touch.

“Scream,” he commanded, delivering a powerful thrust that made you jolt and gasp. “Scream for me,” he urged again.

Unable to resist him, you let out a moan so powerful you could hear it bouncing off the walls, returning to you like a siren’s call.

He escalated his efforts, becoming more insistent, rough, and daring. He reached the most sensitive parts of you with practiced precision, coaxing soft whimpers from you. Your orgasm erupted suddenly, crashing over you like a tidal wave and leaving you limp in Morpheus' embrace. Moments later, Morpheus reached his peak alongside you, spurred by your inner walls contracting around him, and the unconscious fondling of your breast.

While some claim that aquatic sex falls short of expectations, with Morpheus, there was no possibility of disappointment or inadequacy. You felt spent yet complete, absolutely satiated.

"You are sublime, my love. Have I caused you any discomfort?"

You smiled, feeling him soften inside you, yet cherishing the physical union for as long as your bodies allowed. "Not at all. You're incapable of causing me harm."

"You have never feared me."

"No. How could I possibly fear you?"

Despite his capacity for intimidation, you consistently discovered enchantment in Morpheus, even during his darkest demonstrations of power.

"Yet, I can be truly terrifying," he said with a wry grin.

"Ooh, now you've piqued my curiosity."

He drifted away from the edge, carrying you with him as you clung to his form, your bodies connected in the water. "You do not wish to witness that side of me. But, if your curiosity is insatiable…"

Gently threading his fingers through your hair, he guided your head back without force, then placed an open-mouthed kiss on your neck.

"I shall utterly consume you," he purred playfully.

You let out a soft, contented sigh followed by a gentle laugh, folding your arms around him as if he were your lifeline. “Best way to die, really.”

"I'd much prefer to keep you alive and by my side."

Brushing your nose against his, you replied, "Good thing I have no intention of leaving you anytime soon."

Or ever, for whatever eternity might mean to a mortal like you.

Morpheus tightened his grip on you, plump lips grazing your right shoulder. Even the fountain statue across the room seemed to smile upon the scene, its constant waterfall creating a circular halo around your forms in the pool.

The third and final time you made love eclipsed any prior experience with the King of Dreams.

The night before your scheduled return to the Waking World, you had the most delectable dinner of your entire life. Though a week in Morpheus' realm had flown by, you couldn't postpone your work indefinitely, no matter how much you wanted to stay.

Although you were accustomed to dining in your private quarters, Morpheus chose a far more elegant setting, where he could also keep you company throughout the entire meal. He didn't eat, of course, but he remained seated at your side from the first course to the last, absolutely adoring the way you smiled with every bite.

The place he chose for you was a secluded area within his castle, situated on a high-ceilinged terrace with a breathtaking view of the landscape. The decorations resembled those in your bedroom, with silver vines adorning the columns, arches, and railing, interspersed with moonflowers and dark green leaves. The long, dark-polished wooden table was adorned with a delicate white lace covering.

The plates were night-blue ceramic, decorated with the customary theme of intricate constellations and twinkling stars. Complementing them were large, weighty glasses, masterfully crafted from the finest Aura crystal and purest gold. Candles scattered throughout emitted a soft, amber glow, their flames swaying in unison.

The dinner itself was a magnificent feast, each dish meticulously prepared to cater to your tastes and desires, yet infused with a celestial twist. Ingredients harvested from the very essence of dreams transformed every bite into a sensory experience far beyond anything the Waking World could offer you. From the most succulent meats and freshest fish to the tastiest, softest bread and the most delectable chocolate tart, you devoured every element with the appetite of someone who hadn't eaten in months.

As you enjoyed the final morsel of dessert, Morpheus inquired if you wished for anything else. You felt so pleasantly full that the mere thought of additional food seemed impossible for the foreseeable future.

Following your generous dinner, you embarked on a much-needed walk that proved essential for aiding digestion after your hearty meal. Morpheus regaled you with tales from the past, stories that had faded into forgotten legends. One such story recounted the time two ancient gods invaded the Dreaming in an attempt to seize control, and you were undoubtedly shocked as Morpheus described his imprisonment within his own castle

Despite his powerlessness, Morpheus ingeniously carved his siblings' sigils on his prison walls. In an ironic twist, it was Desire who answered his call, dispatching a dreamer to aid him.

Although Morpheus initially withheld certain facts, your inquiries prompted him to reconsider. He realized that hiding aspects of himself from you would be unwise, and recognizing this, he transported you to the very gates of his kingdom, a location you suddenly recognized as familiar from a distant dream.

Darkness enveloped you both, the night sky casting long shadows, yet you could still clearly discern the intricate details of the massive gate standing at the edge of the Dreaming. It rose imposingly from a vast expanse that looked more lively and flourishing than before, a sentinel marking the boundary between worlds.

"Morpheus... this is..."

"These are the Gates of Horn and Ivory," he explained, his voice resonating with ancient power. "I carved them myself many eons ago."

Your eyes narrowed as you scrutinized the intricate figures etched onto the entrance. "I've been here before.”

Morpheus turned to face you, his eyes widening slightly. "You have? That should be impossible."

You shook your head firmly. "No, I'm certain. I remember this place vividly."

You stepped forward, your dress billowing in the breeze alongside Morpheus' flowing coat. "It happened a few months ago, when we were still barely acquainted. In fact, I believe this was my very first dream ever. I had completely forgotten about it upon waking."

Morpheus listened intently, his silence encouraging you to continue.

"I suppose this is not a typical destination for mortals in their dreams, yet I found myself here. I distinctly recall these doors and the carvings. I remember touching them."

"And then?"

"Then I opened my eyes, and I was back in the Waking World. Nothing particularly thrilling to report, I'm afraid."

His cool fingers gently clasped your hand. "Would you like me to explain the significance of these gates?"

You nodded eagerly. "Yes. I'd love to hear about it."

"Dreams that pass through the Gate of Ivory are lies, while the the Gate of Horn only admits the truth."

You gazed upward, taking in the towering doors and the massive horns protruding from the rocky pinnacles above. "I assume this is the Gate of Horn?"

"You are correct."

"And… who is the woman depicted in these carvings?"

Morpheus stiffened, his eyes shifting away. "Her name was Alianora."

"Alianora… was she the dreamer Desire sent you?”

“Yes.”

His answer was brief and to the point. You noticed him glancing at Alianora's face, the tendons in his neck tensing.

"She was more than that, though. Right?"

"Why do you ask?”

"These carvings tell something else. I can see they are not mere decorations, Morpheus. She was your lover once, wasn't she?"

When your eyes met again, you saw the pain inscribed in his furrowed brows and pursed lips. You immediately perceived it as yet another star-crossed romance, one of the many heartbreaking narratives he'd rather forget than relive.

Most likely, it was a subject he would hesitate to discuss with you, out of consideration for your feelings.

"…We were in love," he confessed. “But—”

"It's all right. You don’t need to talk about it if you'd prefer not to."

He swallowed nervously, unconsciously tightening his grip around your hand.

The thought of his numerous past girlfriends and a wife, coupled with the likelihood that you wouldn't be his last, still caused an ache in your heart that was incredibly hard to suppress. However, you were confident in Morpheus’ love for you, believing it to be as strong as—or even surpassing—his affection for others, which had faded over time.

The future remained uncertain, an unpredictable path that remained beyond anyone's ability to predict. You chose to embrace the joy of the present moment, savoring a reality worth living without dwelling on hypothetical outcomes.

"Thank you, Morpheus," you said warmly.

“For what…?”

"For telling me the truth about Alianora, and for bringing me to the Gates. Your honesty and opennes about your past demonstrates how much you trust me.” You returned his squeeze, giving him a reassuring smile.

His irises captured the quintessence of the Dreaming as he looked down at you. His voice, usually so measured and distant, softened as he replied, "My past is filled with mistakes, and with those I have loved and lost. I have lived countless lifetimes, seen the rise and fall of empires, and walked through the dreams of gods and mortals alike.”

He cupped your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. "With every breath, every dream, and every waking moment, I shall endeavor to prove myself worthy of the precious gift that is your love.”

Grabbing the lapens of his coat, you whispered against his lips, “You already are,” repeating the same words he had spoken to you in the castle's garden.

That revelatory moment was followed by a final return to your chambers, where Morpheus departed with a sweet kiss on your forehead, leaving you alone with your bittersweet thoughts. You slipped into your luxurious nightgown, its glittering fabric evoking the starry sky above and mirrored the opulence of the castle. Perched on the bed’s edge, you found yourself engrossed in contemplation, your familiar world now seeming oddly remote, as though it were a tale belonging to someone else.

It simply defied description. Your journey into the Dreaming had awakened something different in you, a newfound certainty that shattered your previous understanding of yourself. It felt as if your perception had expanded, your inner vision broadening to embrace new possibilities.

Sleep eluded you, your mind too restless to succumb to slumber. You wanted to memorize every detail of the view into your mind—the majestic mountains, the winding rivers, and the vast forests painting the ground with sprays of verdant colors. Drawn to the balcony, you rested your hands on the broad parapet, your eyes drinking in the landscape.

You knew, with dreadful certainty, that you'd miss every aspect of the Dreaming, down to the tiniest grain of sand.

Little did you know, Morpheus had kept an additional surprise under wraps.

“Y/N.”

He stood right behind you, his lips curving into a subtle smile as you swiveled to face him. Surprisingly, he had returned despite your assumption that he'd retired for the night to handle his responsibilities, only to reappear the next morning to escort you back to the Waking World.

Overjoyed, you rushed to him as if reuniting after a long separation. You flung yourself into his arms, wrapping your limbs around his neck and waist in an elated embrace.

Morpheus caught you smoothly, his cool, steady hands supporting your back. A soft chuckle escaped him as he cradled you close. “You were not expecting me.”

“No, I wasn’t. I thought you had work to do.”

"I do," he replied, setting you down on the floor, his fingers resting on your sides. "But I have a more pressing duty at the moment."

The Dreaming seemed to narrow, focusing solely on the two of you. "Really? Are you referring to me?"

"There is something I have prepared for you that you must see."

"Another surprise? You're officially spoiling me now."

"You deserve the entire universe to bend to your will."

"What use is the universe when I already have my wonderful Dream King?"

"Then, allow your king to present you with one final offering. Close your eyes."

He placed his palm on your temple, his fingertips lightly covering your eyes. You obeyed his instruction, closing your eyelids and finding yourself enveloped in darkness. His touch was reassuring, a comforting presence in the void.

For a moment, you felt a subtle change in your environment. The air around you became salty and fresh, and the sound of crashing waves replaced the gentle flickering of burning lanterns.

"You can open them now, my love."

You complied, your trepidation mounting. As your vision cleared, you beheld one of the most sensational natural paradises, a scene you'd only glimpsed in documentaries and videos.

The ocean before you echoed the lake from your dream and the Greek pool in your bathroom. A distinctive blue bioluminescence formed along the shoreline, ebbing and flowing with each sinuous wave. The night sky displayed a mesmerizing array of moving galaxies, slowly swirling in a celestial loop.

"Morpheus... this is... it's not a new place, is it?"

"No," he confirmed, his voice deep and resonant. "This is your dream. I have restored it for you."

"You didn't merely restore it. You've enhanced it beyond my wildest imagination."

"Does it please you?"

“It’s perfect.”

Your voice quivered with emotion, and you made no attempt to conceal your feelings from him. The realization that he had taken the time to recreate your beach, amidst his countless duties, sent your heart racing to heights you feared might be difficult to reclaim.

Morpheus wrapped his arms around your waist, his breath whispering against your ear as he held you securely from behind. Leaning into his form, you delighted in the velvety sand under your feet.

You remained like that for a while, enveloped in serene silence, listening to the calming pulse of the waves. Morpheus' fingertips traced delicate paths along your arms as he placed feather-light kisses on your neck. His lips traveled lower, brushing against your shoulder, causing the thin strap of your nightgown to slip off. It rested loosely on your upper arm, revealing part of your chest while maintaining modesty.

Nevertheless, it was clear his intentions surpassed merely showcasing a reconstructed dream. His touch was intentional, his breath growing deeper and more impassioned.

You let him proceed, welcoming his hands as they explored your body. One palm moved across your stomach, while the other toyed with the delicate strap of your nightgown, now resting precariously on your arm. His lips found the sensitive curve where your neck met your shoulder, leaving another trail of kisses that expressed his fondness for you.

Your breath quickened as he pulled you close. His fingers curled around the fabric of your nightgown just above your pubic bone, tortuously grazing the edge of your clit without quite reaching it. The gentle brush of silk against your skin caused your nipples to harden, heightening your sensitivity to his every gesture.

"My love," he uttered softly. "I wish to make your final night in my realm unforgettable."

You swallowed hard, a new rush of desire instantly coursing through your veins.

"Permit me to embrace you wholly, to delve into the depths of our connection in ways yet unexplored.”

Unexplored…?

"Allow me to worship you in a manner that truly honors your worth."

Undoubtedly, that was the most eloquent and heartfelt way anyone could express their longing for intimacy with their beloved.

"I was already convinced the moment you brought me here, but please, don't stop with these beautiful words."

His breath caressed the nape of your neck, a subtle sign of his amusement. "You do relish having your king plead for your attention."

"Well, you've uncovered my secret," you said with a smirk. "But I have to say, I adore the sound of your voice."

“My voice?”

"You could say the most outlandish statement imaginable, and I'd still be on my knees for you."

As his fingertips traced along your bare shoulder, a delicious shiver ran down your spine. “Then you shall hear it as often as you require, for you are the only one to whom I wish to speak so freely.”

"I mean, I'd prefer those words be reserved solely for me, anyway."

"The words I speak, the things I feel, they are only for you.”

You turned your head, looking at him with wide, loving eyes. "I fell head over heels for you when you were still confined to that sphere. But I'm sure you're well aware of that."

Despite his omniscience, Morpheus seemed to ponder your confession, his face a canvas of curiosity and wonder. "Were you truly?"

"You didn't know? I thought it was rather obvious.”

"I was aware of the possibility, yet the full realization that your heart had already pledged itself to me eluded my grasp."

You melted against his chest, your fingers intertwining with his. "You were my anchor during the darkest times, and that's not an exaggeration."

The strap slid further down, leaving your breast nearly exposed.

"You saw me, even then. When I was trapped, powerless... you looked upon me with love, when I could give you nothing in return.”

Shaking your head, you spoke with a soft but resolute voice. "You gave me far more than you realize."

“How?”

"How could you not? Your eyes, your strength, your grace… it was all there, Morpheus. Even in silence.”

With gentle precision, he lowered the other strap. Though no words were exchanged, your silent consent had already been given, rendering his actions both accepted and awaited.

"I know you probably want to forget your time in captivity, but to me, you were incredibly beautiful. I wanted to set you free, to show you the respect they'd denied a god of your stature."

The top of your nightgown fell away, exposing your chest and gathering around your waist.

"Sometimes, when I think about it, I feel like I haven't done enough."

"It was your kindness that became my true escape," he intoned, his fingers easing the fabric down your sides. "You cared, even when I was not your responsibility."

"I wish I could have been there for you when they captured you. When they hurt you."

It was astonishing to think that during those events, you had not yet come into existence.

“If I were to endure another eternity of confinement, I would do so willingly, without hesitation, if it meant having just one moment with you by my side.”

The nightgown dropped to the sand, leaving you practically bare, clad only in delicate, lacy cotton undergarments.

"In all the time I have existed, I have known many things; creation, destruction, endless cycles of time and change. One moment with you eclipses the eternity I have lived, and I would sacrifice a thousand more eternities for a single heartbeat in your presence.”

Smiling, you stepped out of the nightgown and gently nudged it aside with your foot. Even crumpled on the beach, it remained a spectacular sight, its starry fabric seeming to have a life of its own.

"Well, let's hope you're never imprisoned again. I much prefer you free and close to me."

"I have no desire to be anywhere else but here with you.”

You hummed appreciatively, feeling a pleasant tremor as his palms moved up and down your stomach, teasing at the curve of your breasts, leaving them achingly untouched.

Then, something unexpected occurred. The sand around you began to rise, forming undulating, snake-like shapes that slithered up your ankles, calves, and thighs. As the grains coalesced into two sandy hands, you startled slightly at the unexpected intrusion.

“Ah—”

"Shh," he soothed. "Fear not. Every part of this realm is an extension of myself."

The newly formed hands, perfect replicas of Morpheus', skillfully caressed your skin. They delicately explored the line of your inner thighs, reaching the lace edges of your underwear. As they touched the fabric, it began to dissolve into nothingness, like wisps of smoke dissipating into the air.

"Does this discomfort you, my love?" I will cease if you wish it so."

It was unfamiliar, certainly not something you'd ever imagined in your fantasies. Yet, as you found yourself completely exposed, handled with such gentleness by Morpheus and those peculiar appendages made of sand, you couldn't deny the allure of your situation.

"No, it doesn't. In fact, I think I like it."

The touch was unmistakably his, belonging to Morpheus alone.

"Let my realm witness your magnificence in your entirety," he said huskily. "Let the Dreaming become one with you."

Fully unclothed, your body responded to the intimate atmosphere. Your nipples hardened into taut peaks, while your aroused clitoris emerged from its delicate folds, reminiscent of a flower in full bloom.

The ethereal hands drifted upward, skimming over your hipbones before trailing their fingers across your upper abdomen. This time, they continued to your breasts, cupping them with a soft squeeze and creating an immediate friction against your nipples.

More hands emerged from the beach, steadying your legs as they threatened to buckle beneath you. Morpheus' solid form melded with your back, his physical hands remaining still. The Dreaming itself, an extension of its master's will, came alive with purpose, its magical touch caressing your skin with a gentleness that belied its nature. As the boundary between Morpheus and his domain blurred, you found yourself immersed in a torrent of sensations, each grain of sand, each whisper of wind, an instrument in this symphony of ecstasy orchestrated by the Dream King himself.

Your eyes fluttered closed, your chest heaving as the sandy fingers performed a synchronized dance around your nipples. Your hips shook and swayed, seeking more stimulation, while your lower body yearned for something that remained elusive. Your clit throbbed as the cool air blew over it, while waves of pleasure emanated from those dreamy hands, sending tingles through your limbs and causing your muscles to ache.

"M-Morpheus," you gasped.

“My love?”

“Please… touch me…”

Your desperation had grown with surprising speed, bordering on shameful. Yet, when it came to the Endless, your self-restraint evaporated like mist in the morning sun.

He breathed into your ear. "I already am."

Ah, so he wanted to play that game now.

"Are you really going to feign ignorance about my meaning?"

"No. I would never leave my precious queen wanting."

Queen? Oh my. He certainly knew which buttons to push.

"You wouldn't, would you? Then, please."

As the sandy hands continued their sensual ministrations on your breasts, Morpheus' fingers skimmed down to your upper thighs. He kept them there, motionless, teasing you with their proximity to your most sensitive area and leaving you writhing for more.

"However, I must confess—I find pleasure in witnessing your insatiable hunger for me, my sweet."

Your sharp intake of breath punctuated his effect on you. "Well then, Your Majesty, what's it going to be?"

"I could grant your wish. Perhaps I will. But I am quite certain you possess the strength to resist it."

Ugh.

“Morpheus, I swear—”

"I could leave you here, at the mercy of my realm, watching you from afar. Admire your body writhing in pleasure and need for me."

As he continued his speech, the hands intensified their movements. Your nipples were pinched and flicked, while your entire body was covered by rivulets of golden sand.

“Don’t you dare—”

“—But I shall not.”

Morpheus grew bolder, his fingertips delicately brushing your sensitive folds, parting them with exquisite care. He exposed your clit to the cool ocean breeze, unveiling it like a pearl freed from its shell, as if the sea itself were a silent, mesmerized spectator.

"You're lucky I can't conjure extra limbs," you quipped.

“Or what?”

"You'd find yourself stripped naked in a heartbeat."

He loved every moment, each playful remark, every gasp, moan, and whimper that fell from your lips.

"But tonight, my love, is not about me."

"I don't care. You're breathtaking. I don’t need an excuse to crave the sight of you."

“Beauty is not something often attributed to me.”

You giggled as he began to lower you, all hands maneuvering your form onto a perfect sandy cushion. "You may not be typically described using human aesthetics, but you are beautiful, Morpheus. Not just in appearance, though that's undeniable. It's in the way you move, how your presence transforms the world around you, like an interplay of shadows and light."

He opened his legs, enveloping your smaller figure as he settled onto the shore, his arms encircling your waist. Only two of the sandy extensions remained, continuing to caress and fondle your chest, while those around your legs dissipated.

"B-but more than that, it's what I see when you're not trying to be the Lord of Dreams. When you're just... you. The way you care, the way you protect, the way you love.”

Finally, you yielded to the moment, settling against his torso as you spread your thighs. His fingers, at last, found their way to their eagerly awaited destination.

"You perceive more of me than anyone ever has," he said. "Perhaps I am as you describe, because I reflect what I see in you."

With masterful skill, he teased your clit in a slow, light stroke that transported you into a state of blissful rapture.

"Every part of you is a masterpiece," he whispered reverently. "Surrender yourself to me, my love. I will treasure it all."

A moan escaped your lips as your nails dug into the sand. His touch quickened, gathering your wetness and creating a perfect, slick stimulation that brought you closer to the edge. Your nipples throbbed and tingled, while Morpheus' unmistakable arousal pressed firmly against your back through his trousers.

"Don't stop," you begged, your voice thick with urgency. "I'm so close."

“I will not. Let me feel it.”

His fingers accelerated, tracing tight circles around your swollen bud. Simultaneously, the additional hands on your breasts tightened their grip and kneaded, causing your hips to buck wildly as his fingers pressed harder against your sensitive flesh. Pressure built to a crescendo, threatening to crash over you at any moment.

The familiar tension in your lower abdomen coiled tightly, ready to unravel. You draped one leg over his thigh, which he supported firmly, holding you in place.

“Ngh—you’re so good. Please, please, please—oh!”

It was indescribable, unprecedented, exceptional, unmatched.

Your orgasm struck you like a thunderstorm, so powerful that you felt certain your shudders and spasms would ripple through the entire Dreaming. The hands made of sand released you, dissolving and streaming down as the grains returned to their original form. Morpheus' fingers persisted, scarcely slowing their pace, continuing their relentless stroke even as the electric current of your climax began to ebb.

As the waves of ecstasy subsided, his fingers offered a few final, gentle caresses to your sensitive clit before coming to rest. He remained there, unmoving, allowing you to catch your ragged breath in the sanctuary of his arms.

Morpheus consistently made you feel secure, completely at ease with yourself and your surroundings. He effortlessly maintained an atmosphere of naturalness and comfort, perfectly attuned to your needs.

You rolled onto your side, disentangling yourself, and swept your hand across his chest before letting it drift up to touch his face. He smiled tenderly, drawing you closer as he affectionately pressed his forehead against yours.

"That was incredible," you breathed. "Absolutely mind-blowing."

"You truly inspire my creativity to reach new heights."

"Are you saying I could expect a full doppelgänger of you made of sand next?"

"If that is your wish, I could certainly arrange it for you."

You chuckled. "As great as this was, I prefer the original you over any replicas."

You initiated a kiss, which he reciprocated with ardent devotion.

"Speaking of which," you purred, breaking the contact. "I believe someone's eagerly **awaiting attention," you added with a grin.

Your hand trailed downward, touching the firm outline of his erection constrained within his black trousers. Morpheus held perfectly still, aquamarine eyes meeting your own, as he anticipated your next move.

You unfastened the button and zipper, carefully lowering his garments as much as his seated position allowed. As his hardness sprang free from its restraints, you let out a smug "Ooh," followed by a flirtatious "Hello." It was rather comical, to the point that even Morpheus, who seldom laughed and rarely joked, seemed genuinely entertained by your reaction.

There was no mischief, however, as you found genuine happiness even in your most intimate situations. Gently wrapping your hand around his tip and sliding it along his length, you stifled your giggles against his clothed chest.

"And you claimed you could leave me here and watch. Yet look at yourself now."

"I am not human. My capacity for restraint far exceeds that of mortal men."

You nodded. "True. But could you really just stand there and watch me without taking action?"

“…No.”

You were beaming, catching your breath, before giving Morpheus one confident, rather audacious lick along his neck, swiping your tongue over his pronounced Adam's apple. "Oh, Dream Lord, the things you do to me."

"I am here to offer you everything, and to receive all that you wish to give me."

Without releasing your grip on his manhood, you shifted onto your knees, steadying yourself with a hand on his shoulder. "How would you prefer to take me, my love?" you asked, your desire for him resurging in your core.

He grasped your waist, his thumbs tracing lazy circles on your skin. "I wish to have you in every way conceivable," he said in a low voice. "But for now, I'd like you to turn around and position yourself on all fours."

His commanding tone sent a thrill through you, quickening your pulse. You pivoted and settled onto your hands and knees enthusiastically, presenting your body to him like a precious prize, one he had rightfully earned and deeply deserved.

You could feel his piercing scrutiny, the rustle of his clothes as he adjusted his stance, and his long digits traversing your outer thighs.

"Your beauty rivals the stars above and surpasses the splendor of the ocean before us."

His rigid length pressed against your slick folds. "Be my light, tonight and for eternity."

Then, he fully sank in, his impressive length stretching and filling you completely. Your bodies merged in perfect unison, a testament to your physical and emotional compatibility.

“Yes!!”

Your response erupted as a strangled cry, both answering his words and reacting to the way your body accommodated him. You clenched around him instinctively, jerking forward as he began to move. He slipped in and out of you with a passion that spoke of a century of starvation, you were already primed and ready for him to claim you, requiring no further preparation.

The wet sounds of skin meeting skin, punctuated by the slick noises of his thrusts, blended perfectly with the pulsing sea waves. The shore shimmered and glowed, as if echoing the cadence of a heartbeat.

You pushed yourself up, remaining on your knees as your arms sought his form, your face turning to meet his lips in a hungry kiss. Your tongues entwined as your lips collided, fitting together like two halves of a whole. Sighs and more laughter mingled with your breathless encouragement for more. His satisfaction was evident in the darkening sparkle of his eyes, the open grin that graced his face, and the impossible growth of his hardness in you.

His hands cradled your breasts before gliding downward again. You invoked his name repeatedly, shaking and shouting in total bliss, your throat almost burning from the exertion. Your clit quivered with pleasure the moment he pinched it, rolling the sensitive bud between his fingers like a delicate knob.

"So good!" you exclaimed breathlessly. "I love you so much!"

"Your love is my lifeblood, matched only by the infinite depths of my devotion to you."

"More, please! Harder!"

He doubled his efforts, each powerful thrust accompanied by a deep groan, synchronizing with the relentless waves crashing even faster against the shore. The second orgasm built up so quickly that you wished you could prolong the tension, but judging by the way he throbbed against your core, you could tell that Morpheus was teetering on the edge right along with you.

A few more thrusts, coupled with the deft twirling of his fingers around your clit, were all it took to send you to the moon and back a second time. It was explosive, earth-shattering, and all-consuming.

Morpheus followed suit, his rhythm becoming erratic before he released himself into your depths with a guttural groan. His body shuddered and stilled as he reached his climax, his hands clutching your hips as he breathed in the intoxicating scent of your hair.

Even a being as powerful as him found himself vulnerable and defenseless before your charm.

He had given you the stars, quite literally. He incorporated you into his realm as an essential element, as if its very existence hinged on your presence there.

"You belong to me," he proclaimed, unfurling his coat and enveloping you in a protective cocoon as you collapsed onto his chest. "No one else will ever claim you or know you as I do. Your heart, your very dreams... they are mine alone."

His possessiveness surfaced, and you curled up close to him, his coat enveloping you like a warm, soothing bath. "I would never want to belong to anyone else, Morpheus. And you... you are mine too, right?"

It was a daring question, but one you had every right to ask.

“You hold my heart. In every way that matters, yes: I am yours.”

Your smile radiated as brightly as the luminescent ocean. Relaxing into Morpheus's arms, you were lulled by the natural melodies surrounding you, feeling his essence trickling out of your opening. You found it neither unpleasant nor embarrassing, but rather a fundamental aspect of your intimate bond that you hoped would endure forever.

Imperceptibly, you drifted into slumber protected by the Sandman himself, as if suspended amidst stardust. As the night progressed, Morpheus gently carried you back to your king-sized bed, your nightgown magically restored to its proper place on you.

Your skin was immaculate, clean and smooth, notwithstanding all the sand that had previously covered it.

For the first time, he stayed with you, seated on the edge of the mattress, observing your form in reverent silence. His gaze traced your angelic face framed by silken tresses as your head rested on the pillow, your chest rising and falling with each gentle breath. The moonstone gleamed in his presence, a unique token he could never craft for anyone else. The knowledge that you carried a part of him with you filled Morpheus with profound joy.

Out of the stillness, Astra appeared from the shadows, his hooves barely making a sound as he approached the bed. The delicate glow of the green patterns on his fur illuminated the space around you, casting a soft light on your sleeping figure. Morpheus watched as Astra lowered his muzzle to you, his warm breath brushing against your hand.

"Her presence in the Dreaming... it's unlike anything I've witnessed since you created me," he said. "She enhances everything here. Every corner of this realm, every dream, every creation you've ever made… they all respond to her, as if she breathes life into them."

Morpheus's eyes flickered contemplatively as he listened, attention drawn to you again. You stirred slightly in your sleep, a soft murmur escaping your lips as you unconsciously reached for the Dreamstone around your neck.

"She is no ordinary mortal," Astra continued, taking a step closer to Morpheus. "A unique aura emanates from her, and I believe it is her love for you. It permeates everything she touches."

Morpheus inclined his head in agreement. Since your arrival, the Dreaming's familiar landscapes had undergone a subtle transformation. Initially, the change was so slight that it escaped his notice, but as you rested, your body radiated an unmistakable energy, enveloping both him and Astra in its protective shield.

"I have noticed it," Morpheus replied, his voice scarcely above a whisper. "She is unlike any being I have encountered in all my existence."

Astra took another step, his glassy eyes softening as he looked back at you. "She is bound to this realm in ways that neither you nor I may fully comprehend yet."

Morpheus's fingers clenched briefly before relaxing. "She is leaving soon," he answered quietly, more to himself than to Astra. "But the Dreaming will always be a part of her. And she of it."

"Some bonds transcend severance, impervious to time or the barriers between worlds."

His emotions were conflicted—saddened by your impending departure, yet astounded by the impact you'd had on him and his domain. You had wielded the extraordinary ability to shape not only his heart, but the intrinsic character of the Dreaming along with it. How could someone as precious as you love him so deeply and unconditionally?

Morpheus experienced an unprecedented revelation. For the first time in eons, he grasped the significance of sharing the Dreaming with another being, of unveiling his true self and all he possessed. This revelation surpassed any insight he'd gained from past loves, be it Nada, Alianora, or Calliope.

His mistakes were indelible, and their consequences irreparable. But your gentleness was immeasurable and irreplaceable, your wisdom a fount from which even Morpheus himself could learn. You were extraordinary, delicate yet powerful, so intensely significant to him that Morpheus understood he had never loved anyone as strongly as he had fallen for you.

Losing you would threaten to leave an unfathomable void in his existence, potentially shattering him beyond imagination. Your absence would leave him utterly bereft.

"While she resides with us, my Lord, this realm thrives in ways even you did not foresee.”

Morpheus could only concur with his own creation's perceptive observation. He vowed to cherish every moment of your time together, knowing that your impact on his world, and his heart, would endure long after your return to your world.

For as long as eternity would allow him to adore you.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 22 (coming soon) ->

[dimensionvvitch]

i like to think that

just like clow mispredicting sakura’s feelings for yukito (and vise versa)

yuuko mispredicted watanuki’s feelings for, well, her. she was definitely pushing him in doumeki’s direction, even gave doumeki the egg to give watanuki an out (though she surely knows that doumeki will always put watanuki’s happiness first, magical memory eggs be damned)

i get this overarching theme in CLAMP about how feelings don’t necessary go by “rules”, e.g. in magical transactions, feelings are considered “free”

which makes sense how individuals would create different paths in the future because of their feelings, even though some paths would already be laid out for them.

case in point: clow’s wish

it’s kind of wild to think that someone with as close to accurate visions of the future would miss something as monumental as that. which makes me think clow, too, didn’t realize how deep and strong his feelings truly were to even have an effect of that magnitude.

anyway tl;dr feelings are unpredictable

[daincrediblegg]

[dirt-str1der]

Love characterising nishikiyama as a booze hound drug hound meth addict high every day body mass 75% alcohol hands constantly shaking literally spacing out while driving fifty over the speed limit using elderly folk as speedbumps one hand on the wheel and one hand free to do more drugs and coming into work while functionally deaf and blind and he is still leagues more competent at his job than kiryu

[miraclemaya]

MADOKA - “I’m thinking I’ll order a beef udon bowl, since Sayaka-chan told me that they make those really good here. What about you, Homura-chan?”

CONSERVATION OF ENERGY - Food needs can be met with an expenditure of 1.23% of total magic. Proceed?

GRIEF SYNDROME [Trivial: Success] - MAGICAL GIRLS THAT IGNORE FOOD ARE OFTEN MORE PRONE TO GRIEF ACCUMULATION. MY ARMS WILL ALWAYS BE WAITING FOR YOU, HOMURA, BUT IT’S IMPORTANT TO BE HAPPY UNTIL THAT DAY. BESIDES, MADOKA WANTS TO EAT WITH YOU. DISAPPOINTING HER WILL FILL YOUR SOUL GEM WITH A HALF A GRIEF SEED WORTH OF DESPAIR.

TEA WITH MAMI-SAN [Legendary: Success] - Sayaka says the beef bowl is good? Maybe go for that. She knows Madoka’s tastes better than anyone — and if Madoka likes something, you will certainly like it too.

“I will have the same as you, Madoka.”

“I’m not feeling very hungry.”

[CALL AND RESPONSE - Medium 10] Come up with an order on your own

CALL AND RESPONSE - [Medium: Failure] - You’ve eaten here before, you’re pretty sure. Was it Loop 32… no, Loop 12..? No, wait, it was on the first Friday of Loop 68. No… that’s not right. You’ve never eaten here before. In a stunning display of incompetence, you have taken Madoka on a date to a restaurant that you have never experienced before.

THE ANGEL - It’s okay, Homura-chan! I don’t mind if you haven’t eaten here before. Remember what real me said, Sayaka thinks this place is good! And even if it’s not perfect, that’s okay, just spending time with you makes me happy.

THE CRAVEN MASSES - Sayaka has raised her blade against Madoka 16 times before. You should leave this restaurant and kill her. It would only take-

FALLING SAND [Trivial: Success] - 1528 seconds on average.

CONSERVATION OF ENERGY - It can be cut down to 1243 seconds with an expenditure of 2.7% of total magic pool.

THE CRAVEN MASSES - Exactly. Do it in front of her family and make it bloody. Kyoko would likely try and stop you, but even she isn’t immune to bullets. And if Mami comes for revenge, well, you know the exact words you could say that would destroy her, don’t you?

THE ANGEL - A-Ah, I think that’s a bit of an extreme reaction, Homura-chan!

HUMAN SHELL - Your heart rate is increasing. Stop that. You have absolute control over your flesh. Act like it.

MOE INSTINCT - AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WHAT ARE WE GOING TO ORDER MADOKA IS GOING TO LAUGH AT US

WITCH’S NIGHT - Is… is this a trap? Walpurgis may be defeated, but you know that the stage witch never truly ceases its show. Perhaps this restaurant is a part of the stage?

MADOKA - “Um, are you okay, Homura-chan?”

MOE INSTINCT - OH GOD SHE HATES US

“I’m going to kill myself.”

“I’m so sorry. Would killing myself make you feel more comfortable?”

Isn’t there anything else you can say?

YOU - Isn’t there anything else you can say?

THE DEVIL - Come on, Homura. It’s high time you do it. Really, this is just another in the long, long chain of failures that make up your life. The only way to fix it is to kill yourself.

CLOCKWORK PRECISION - Target: Located on right ring finger. Target is not moving. Chance to hit: High. Plan: Retrieve pistol. Aim pistol at ring. Pull trigger.

THE ANGEL - Oh my god, please do not do that!

"I am going to kill myself."

"I'm so sorry, I'll kill myself if it makes you feel better."

"I'm so sorry. Should I kill myself?"

There. There has to be better options than this.

YOU - There. There has to be better options than this.

MOE INSTINCT - I CAN’T TAKE IT ANY MORE. THE ONLY RECOURSE IS IMMEDIATE SUICIDE. THAT’S THE ONLY WAY MADOKA WILL LOVE YOU AGAIN.

"I am going to kill myself."

"I'm so sorry, I'll kill myself if it makes you feel better."

"I'm so sorry. Should I kill myself?"

YOU - “I’m going to kill myself.”

MADOKA - Madoka’s face twists, her eyebrows raising slightly in shock. Whatever response she was expecting, it was clearly not this.

GRIEF SYNDROME [Challenging: Success] - IF MADOKA WAS A MAGICAL GIRL, HER SOUL GEM WOULD FILL BY A QUARTER HEARING YOU SPEAK THOSE WORDS. THAT WAS CRUEL, HOMURA.

MOE INSTINCT - WHY DID YOU SAY THAT?

MADOKA - “I’m so sorry, Homura-chan. Please don’t do that. I… I really care about you and so does everyone else.” Madoka’s eyes fill with tears as she speaks. She hugs you.

DAMAGED MORALE -4

CALL AND RESPONSE [Trivial: Success] - Quick, tell her you were making an edgy joke that didn’t land. You’ve gotten away with that before, you’re pretty sure.

SPACE-TIME MASSACRE - Twelve quarter shifts left and two up from your current space-time position, and there’s a Japan that it’s actually illegal to not commit suicide in.

FALLING SAND - You’ve been seated for 5 minutes and 32.5 seconds already and still have not ordered. Mami has requested your presence at her apartment in 3.4 hours from now.

TEA WITH MAMI-SAN - She wants to help you find a hobby. She’s really worried about you, you know.

STRINGS OF FATE - You can feel Madoka’s heart beat in sync with yours as she holds you. Everything will be alright, as long as you follow the beat.

THE ANGEL - Yeah! It’s okay Homura-chan. Just explain what’s been going on and Madoka will understand. And then order something, it’s important to eat a full meal!

YOU - “Ah, sorry Madoka. I was… overwhelmed with choice, and my… brain spit out the first thing it thought. I am not planning on killing myself.”

MADOKA - “Um, I think we should probably talk about this more, Homura-chan….”

CALL AND RESPONSE - Ask her a question to change the topic. It’s worked in three different loops, it should work here.

RATIONALITY COMPLEX [Trival: Success] - Ask her if she wants to try anything else and then order that for yourself. This will accomplish your goal of deciding on what to order, as well as showing Madoka that her desires are important to you.

YOU - “Is there anything else you’d like to try, Madoka? We can share our dishes.”

MADOKA - “Uh, okay Homura-chan. Maybe get some tempura?”

Order 10000 yen worth of tempura

Order 1000 yen worth of tempura

Order 100 yen worth of tempura

YOU - “Excuse me waiter, give me 10000 yen worth of tempura.”

HUMAN SHELL - Calories and magic are just two different types of fuel. Feed me and control me.

THE ANGEL - T-that’s probably too much, Homura-chan. Maybe you can sneak some into your cool shield, though!

MADOKA - Madoka doesn’t say anything, but her eyes do bulge out slightly. She gives you a gentle pat on the shoulder and smiles at you.

HEALED MORALE +1

RATIONALITY COMPLEX - Displays of wealth like this can broadcast value to potential mates. This will increase your value in Madoka’s eyes, furthering along one of your goals.

THE ANGEL - I think you should just focus on enjoying the food, Homura-chan. Take a break, everything is okay.

Thank you.

Why don’t you hate me?

YOU - Why don’t you hate me?

THE ANGEL - Because I care about you, Homura-chan! And besides, you hate yourself far too much already.

Thank you.

THE ANGEL - You’re welcome! Now, please, enjoy your meal with real Madoka. She loves you a lot too, you know.

[bartxnhood]

mayberry | t.o

tyler owens x fem!reader

based on this request: Requesting one, where Tyler and his crew chasing the tornado as casual but there's a twist (it can be a happy or angst ending) what if the tornado they chase was heading to where reader lives, today he was planning on asking her to move on with him after they finished another successful on making the tornado gone yet when he noticed where it was going he drives faster and trying to outrun the tornado.

warnings: descriptions of tornadoes, reader loses her house, blood, cuts.

w/c: 1.8k

requests open

not proofread

Copyright © 2023 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

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“shes a pistol, ty. hope you can handle her” javier begins, removing his sunnies and leans against his white truck while looking at tyler across the driveway of your mothers house.

tyler smiles to himself at the mention of you. he looks in his wallet, a picture of you and him at a rodeo. you’re wearing his red flannel and white cowboy hat as you kiss his cheek.

a picture he treasured most. no one knew about this picture in his wallet. it was his own little secret, you didn’t even know he had the polaroid.

tyler and you both majored in meteorology throughout your time in college. storm chasers had a limited dating pool. nobody was willing to chase after these monstrous storms in such a way and then return to laugh about it over a few beers.

that’s why he took such a liking to you.

tyler didn't try to hide his feelings first. he would constantly try to convince you to go out with him or do something else, but you would never accept his advances. you didn't believe that you could put up with his ego.

till you began chasing with him.

since then, you saw a side of him that you didn’t know. tyler was a kind hearted man, caring for the people that fell victim to these storms. he was so intelligent that it made you rethink your own decisions, that was rare.

before you knew it, you started falling for tyler owens. the rest is history.

“i’m thinkin bout asking her to move in with me after we get this storm tonight.” tyler confesses to javier, a sly smirk on his face. javier’s eyebrows raise, cocking his hip to the side and crossing his arms.

“you think she’ll say yes?”

tyler presses his lips into a thin smile, stuffing his wallet into his back pocket where it belongs. “i hope so.” he answers, looking up towards the house.

tyler had decided it was time to take the next step with you. he had been thinking about asking you to move in with him for a while now, and he was sure it was the right decision.

he loved you deeply and couldn’t imagine his life without you. he wanted to wake up next to you every morning, cook breakfast together, and spend evenings cuddled up on the couch watching movies.

the thought of you living together filled him with excitement and joy, and he couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when he popped the question.

“guys!” lilly hollers, exiting the rv, running towards the pair. “we have huge activity southeast. we gotta move, now!”

there’s a tension that settled in over the group as they all scrambled to get their things together and radars ready.

tyler’s first thought was you. he takes off, boots stomping in the puddles as he swings the screen door open.

“y/n?” he hollers, taking his sunglasses off.

“up here!” you answer, drying your hair after a shower.

you watch in the mirror as tyler appears in the doorway, “whats up?” you ask, dropping your hand by your sides. “there’s one southeast. big one.” he’s almost grinning hoping to get you excited but his smile drops when you don’t react.

there’s a silence as you begin to rake product through the ends of your hair. “cmon, we don’t wanna miss it. lilly says it’ll touch down in an hour at least.”

“m’not goin” you reply, looking into his eyes from the mirror. “what? whaddya mean?”

“it’s mom” you answer, followed by a sigh. “she’s doing bad again, she’s freaking out over it and i’m just gonna stay with her. the house isn’t in the path so it should be fine” you say, turning to him.

you can see a soft frown on his lips as he looks down at you, “we always chase together.”

you smile sadly, and nod. you let your hand come up and caress his cheek. “i know, darlin. we’ll get the next one i promise.”

you press a quick kiss on his lips, “be safe, baby.” he replies, kissing the top of your head and heading off with the crew.

the atmosphere was thick and heavy with a sense of impending doom as the tornado began to take shape. the clouds churned and wracked, twisting into a massive, menacing funnel cloud. the noise was deafening, a high-pitched roar that seemed to come from everywhere at once.

gusts of wind howled like a beast, tearing at anything in their path. this was no ordinary twister; this was an EF5, the most powerful and destructive tornado there was. it loomed on the horizon, a sinister harbinger of disaster.

tyler, now chasing the storm, was strapped into his well-worn red dodge. his eyes fixed on the churning sky as he chased a massive storm through the southeast landscapes. his truck was a trusted companion, having borne him through countless weather events.

its engine roared confidently as tyler navigated the treacherous terrain, seeking the perfect position to observe the storm up close and capture its raw power. he was fueled by a deep passion for the spectacle of the weather and driven by the adrenalin rush of being in the heart of the swirling chaos.

“you seein this, T?!” boone hollers from the passenger seat. “i’m seein it boone!” he yells back, knuckles white on the steering wheel.

tyler doesn’t remove his eyes from the storm raging in the wheat field, but something feels off. something isn’t right.

“what is it, ty?” javier calls over the radio noticing his decreasing speed. tyler is too mesmerized by the black clouds, he doesn’t reply. “T?” boone calls.

“something’s wrong.” he mumbles, “the path..the path is changing!” he says hurriedly watching the surroundings.

lilly pipes from the backseat, “its moving northwest! heading straight for mayberry!”

“shit.” tyler hits his steering wheel before making a sharp turn, turning around.

“the path is shifting!” boone alerts over the radio.

tyler’s heart launched in his chest watching the twister hurtling towards the small town where you lived. he’d often worried about this, and now his worst nightmare was unfolding before his eyes.

his grip tightened on the steering wheel, and his eyes darkened as he gunned the engine, pushing the red dodge to its limits. he had to get to you, had to make sure you were safe. his mind raced as he calculated how much time he had, the seconds ticking away in an excruciating countdown.

there was no warning, the storm was moving too unpredictably. you should’ve monitored it closer, you should’ve been more prepared.

the house trembled violently as the tornado tore through the neighborhood.

the windows shattered, spraying glass everywhere. the walls creaked and groaned, buckling under the immense pressure of the onslaught.

pictures fell from the walls, their frames splattering on the floor. furniture was hurled around like toys, breaking apart as it smashed into the remaining walls.

“mom!” you holler, staying low to the ground reaching out for her. she takes your hand and you pull her close to your body.

“hold on tight!” you scream.

the two of you huddled together, their screams blending into the cacophony, their eyes wide with terror. outside, the world had become a blur of debris and chaos, the swirling vortex ripping everything apart in its path.

tyler stepped out of his truck followed by boone and lilly. his heart thudding heavily in his chest as he saw the destruction hoping beyond hope that she was safe. but the sight that greeted him was a nightmare. your once-cheerful home had been reduced to a pile of rubble, the remnants of your life scattered among the wreckage. the tornado had ripped through the property, leaving destruction in its wake.

the property wasn’t recognizable, the only way he knew it was your home was your white jeep wrapped around the willow tree.

tyler’s hands come up and run thorough his hair, “oh god..” he breathes. “jesus christ..” boone says just above a whisper.

tyler can’t let his emotions get the best of him. he needed to find you.

“y/n!” he hollers.

“y/n!” lilly screams. “ms.l/n” boone calls for your mom.

tyler pushes his way through the debris, his eyes scanning the rubble for any sign of you.

he continued to pulled lumber, pillars, glass and furniture for what felt like hours. “y/n!” his heart thudding against his chest with every moment that passed. panic clawed at his gut as he continued his desperate search.

finally, he heard a faint sound, like a whimper. he turned, and there you were, buried under a pile of rubble.

his breath caught in his throat as he carefully dug you out, his hands trembling.

as your face came into view, it was smeared with dirt and blood, but your eyes widened with relief as you saw him. “t?” you rasp.

he gently picked you up, cradling you against him like a fragile doll.

"i'm here," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "im here, and you're going to be okay."

you wince, standing on the unstable ground. “mom..” you croak, tears brimming down your eyes again. “she’s down there..”

tyler nods, he looks back at boone and was about to go down and search for her but boone stops him. “i got her.”

boone disappears in the pile of rubble, then he emerges with your mother in his arms. “we need an ambulance!”

tyler nods and leaves you with lilly to call for first responders.

“‘m fine, t.” you say, say in the back of the ambulance. “just makin sure..” he whispered taking your arm in his hands and scanning your skin. he needed to make sure you weren’t seriously injured, even though you were just checked out by ems.

“t..” you sighs as he continues, his hand snow on either side of your face moving your head around still checking. “tyler.” you call him again, this time your hands gripping his wrists.

his eyes meet yours, the sign of tears still staining your cheeks. “i’m okay, i promise” you assure, smiling. “jus glad you made it to me, how’d you know?”

tyler shrugs, “the wind started morning north, learned it from you.” he answers, coming to your side and pulling you in.

you stay there for a while, the sirens flooding your ears and the lights illuminating the place where your home once stood. tyler rubs your shoulders and pulls the emergency blanket tighter around your body.

you lean your head against his shoulder and wrap your arm around his. “is now a bad time to ask if you want to live with me?” he looks down at you.

“what?” you look up at him.

and maybe it wasn’t the right time, but he didn’t know if he’d ever get the chance to ask you.

“live with me. hell, bring your mom. i don’t care, just..” he reaches for your hand. “i just know that i love you and i want you around even more than you already are.” he laughs lightly, continuing to rub your shoulder.

“i would love to live with you.”

tyler smiles proudly, squeezing you closer to his side.

“now i just needa marry you.”

[5sospenguinqueen]

Pocket Money | Lance Stroll x Reader

Summary: Since the start of the relationship, fans have been convinced you're only with Lance for his money. When he mentions your future in an interview, they accuse you of trying to baby trap him.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst but mostly just for sadness. Hateful fans.

Female reader with various facelaims. Pics found on Pinterest.

A bit different to the other three.

next.

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YourUserName lovely london was kind enough to be sunny for me this weekend 🇬🇧

2,385 comments

chloestroll i’m still so jealous that you didn’t take me

→ YourUserName yes but if i had, i’d have spent the entire time trying to stop you from running off with a brit. i doubt scotty would appreciate that

→ scottyjames31 do NOT let her run off with a british man

→ YourUserName make sure you behave yourself then

User1 oh, so she’s on yet another holiday funded by her sweet, naive boyfriend who can’t tell he’s with a gold digger

User2 that’s it sweetheart. post pics of your trip that your boyfriend undoubtedly paid for whilst he’s busy racing all weekend without your support

User3 she’s quite possibly the worst wag. give the role to someone who would enjoy being there

→ User4 it’s not a fucking role, sweetheart. being someone’s fiancée is not a role you play, and i think y/n happens to do an amazing “part”

danielricciardo bring me back some crunchies

→ YourUserName no, i got into trouble last time. your trainer told me that you’re not allowed them

→ danielricciardo boo, you whore

User5 so she’s on yet another weekend away in london the same weekend that lance is racing in jeddah? can she make it anymore obvious that she doesn’t support him?

→ User6 her job means she has to travel a lot - just like lance - so unfortunately she cannot follow him around the world

→ User7 you tell ‘em, honey. y/n is a successful businesswoman but everyone seems to forget that? she makes every race when she can but sometimes she can’t get out of work

→ User8 at the end of the day, their relationship is none of our business

astonmartinf1 missing your face in the paddock this weekend

→ YourUserName i miss you too! although i bet nando is enjoying the peace and quiet

→ astonmartinf1 can neither confirm nor deny but he did mention something about yapping

User9 this is so cute. the way his whole face lights up when he’s asked about/talks about her

User10 not lance revealing that y/n would run away and marry him just to call him her husband

→ User11 yes! but he’s so dedicated to giving her the wedding she wanted since she was a child. these two have my whole entire heart 🥰

User12 ugh, where can i get a lance stroll? the way he loves his fiancee 😍 and not him being desperate to have babies with her

User13 so is this confirmation that y/n is pregnant? like, if he wants a baby in a year, then..?

→ User14 wouldn’t surprise me. if they get married, he can still make her sign a prenup and divorce her without a worry, but a baby would tie him to her for life so she can continue to spend his money

→ User15 okay but i’m with you on this. it’s the best way to ensure she can keep him around in some way because let’s be honest, their relationship doesn’t seem the best

→ User9 what the fuck is wrong with you two. where in that entire interview were you getting the impression their relationship is on the rocks? he’s literally planning an entire life with her???

→ User15 yeah and where is she? unbothered in london. she’s only with him for the money and that’s the only reason why they’re engaged.

→ User13 they’re engaged because they love each other! he’s also the one who said he wants her to have his children so he can keep her home????

→ User14 no they’re engaged because for some reason, he’s infatuated with her and she’s only using him, and she’s clearly tricked him into wanting children without realising that’s further entrapment

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YourBrother just posted

liked by danielricciardo, yourbestfriend and others

YourBrother when sprout takes time out of her busy life to visit, Nonna cooks a whole feast (can you tell who the favourite is) tagged: YourUserName

879 comments

YourCousin the only reason we look forward to y/n coming home is because nonna feeds us GOOD

→ YourCousin2 agreed, nothing to do with us missing y/n at all

→ YourUserName this is why i left 😂😭

User1 anyone else find it odd that she’s in a different country again on race weekend? i mean, i know her and lance were still a couple last month but i’m starting to wonder if that’s changed

→ User2 she’s also not been active on socials despite that being part of her job description?

→ User3 can you blame her when everyone constantly hates on her

→ User4 being on media isn’t part of her job, she just liked to share her adventures with us and some of you arseholes ruined that.

User5 oh my gosh, her parents are so cute together. i want to be like that when i’m older

→ User6 and her brother and SIL curled up in the chair together. this family really do produce the cutest couples

→ User7 looks like the only absent spouse is lance :(

→ User8 um because he’s currently in china? he has more important things to be doing??

User9 i love that her brother's first idea to cheer her up is to give her beer

→ User10 well, at least we know she’s not pregnant currently

→ User11 thank god. we know lance is free from her in that aspect

→ User9 seriously? making these comments on twitter wasn't bad enough, you people are actually commenting on her BROTHER’s instagram

(Comments have been disabled for this post)

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astonmartinf1 just posted

liked by estebanocon, YourUserName and others

astonmartinf1 our first race back in shanghai sees a p7 finish for fernando with the fastest lap. lance comes home in p15 after contact earlier in the race

1,443 comments

User12 literally give the seat to anyone other than lance stroll please

User13 can we all stop hating on lance, please? it was an accident, they happen

User14 not him blaming danny ric. sweetie, the car has brakes for a reason

User15 danny ric was fuming but also seemed like he was trying not to be

→ User16 no literally. it was like he was trying not to say something but in one interview slipped up and said that lance has been really distracted due to issues at home

→ User17 i saw that! and the way he ran away after like ‘oo the team is calling me’

→ User18 are we smelling a breakup?

User19 i personally think lance stroll shouldn’t be in f1 but can we take a moment to think that whilst it was really bad driving, he’s not been himself lately? he looks really sad in all the media things

→ User20 literally, like he’s constantly coming under hate for his fiancée, and then she hasn’t been to any races recently and he’s not talked about wedding planning once. this is the man who was telling everyone about his wedding even if they didn’t ask

→ User1 maybe he realised that his girlfriend was a gold digging bitch

→ User2 literally. he talked about having children with her and then realised that meant she’d never leave

→ User3 you people are actually crazy. how do you turn a man talking about wanting children into the woman he loves trying to baby trap him? y/n has never talked about wanting kids

→ User4 this. like i definitely think they’ve broken up but for all we know, it could be that lance was talking about children and y/n realised she wasn’t ready/didn’t want them.

User5 can’t believe people are still running the baby narrative. we know nothing about their relationship because they’re quite a private couple - and after this, we can see why - and yet people have somehow created a whole drama about babies from nothing

User6 i know lance is one of the more private f1 drivers but i really think he needs to comment on this? the amount of hate y/n is getting is insane and shouldn’t be ignored

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YourUserName just posted

liked by estebanocon, danielricciardo and others

YourUserName the view from my office is better than yours. sorry, not sorry

863 comments

BestFriend i’m looking for a woman in finance, trust fund

→ YourUserName you know you’re welcome to my trust fund anytime

→ BestFriend the best sugar mommy i’ve ever had

YourBrother congratulations on your promotion, shithead. one step away from ceo!

User7 wait why did no one tell me she was running a company?

→ User8 babe, we’ve been telling you bitches this from the start! but none of you listened

chloestroll congratulations, business barbie 💕

→ YourUserName thank you, music barbie 🤍

→ User3 so chloe is still here? does that mean we’re still getting a wedding

→ User9 idk. lance isn’t in the likes..?

→ User10 @ chloestroll please tell us what you know. Some of us are rooting for them to end up together

User11 so she goes radio silent for three months just to come back and pretend like she has a job? nothing about the man she supposedly loves?

→ User12 seems shady to me. you got caught out for being a gold digger so now you’re going to act like you actually go to work?

→ User13 i really hate people like you

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Baby Fever Angst Series

Daniel's Version | Max's Version | Lando's Version

Charles’ Version | Oscar’s Version

Tag list

@lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @elijahslover @gaypoetsblog @luckyladycreator2 @bborra @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @raizelchrysanderoctavius @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @dullypully @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @sbrn0905 @leclercsluvs @hc-dutch @mxdi0 @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane

[pastelclovds]

thinking about short top x tall bottom relationships

your partner’s friends believe that just because you were two feet shorter than him: that it would obviously mean that you would be the one taking it in the relationship. how could you blame those meatheads when your boyfriend was everything a stereotypical dominant man was “supposed” to be. muscles that could be compared to Greek gods, good looks, possessing a constant stern and confident attitude, and he had a successful career that made him good money.

your lover didn’t try to deny the accusations. probably too embarrassed to admit the truth. you had to hide your smirk when you saw your bf trying desperately to change the subject. looking tense and flustered as his gaze shifted from his hands to you to his friends. it wasn’t until you dropped his friends off and were now alone with him in your car that his mask finally cracked. before he could say a word, you place the palm of your hand on top of his shaking leg. dangerously close to his clothed pelvis. his breathe hitched when he meet your eyes. they were smug and hungry.

at that moment he knew it didn’t matter what excuses he spewed out. you were going to show him who was really in charge. he couldn’t help blood rushing south as his mind started fantasizing about what you were planning for him.

you grin devilishly when you catch sight of his cock straining against his dress pants. oh you were going to have so much fun breaking him.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

“oh! oh yeah— fuck! faster please please!”

you’ve seen many beautiful things in your life. but the sight of your lover presenting his bare ass for you to rail as he sobbed out your name like a prayer definitely topped them all. he let out choked moans when your cock continuously hits his prostate. his grip on the pillows rival that of a vice as his tears wet the covers. he thrusts back against your cock to the best of his ability as the bruising grip you had on his waist prevented him from moving the lower half of his body. forcing him to stay still and take it.

you let out a shaky breath as you gazed down at the so called ‘master in the sheets’. now a pathetic, beautiful mess as his tight hole took you in. just the sight of his tear stained face and velvety ass was enough to almost make you spill inside him. you increase the pace of your hips. your sweat slicked balls slapping against your lover’s ass as the volume of his moans and cries increased. the clap of your bf’s ass meeting your pelvis filled you with pride as you couldn’t resist the temptation of slapping his cheek. his hole tightened significantly around you.

“haha. guess your friends were wrong about you, lovely. was this what you wanted? embarres me so i can show you who you really belonged to? hmm?” you lower your torso as you teased him by slowly grinding against his sweet spot. he raised his head to look up at you.

“i’m yours. always make me feel good. go faster again please. i’m close, ‘m sorry— ah!”

your pace returns to rough and quick as soon as the words left his pretty mouth. “good boy- hah- cum for me,” you breathlessly command him. he followed your orders instantly, biting his pillow cover to muffle his pathetic sob as his cock spilled white on the sheets.

his climax triggered yours, you sigh as you fill him with warmth. you knew that this wasn’t going to be the last round, so you rest on top of your lover’s back until he gave you the ‘okay’ to continue. you could feel his chest rise and fall as he tries to catch his breath. if you weren’t paying attention intensely, you would’ve missed the breathless “i love you” he told you.

you cover his sweat coated back in soft kisses, you couldn’t even reach his neck, “i love you too, gorgeous,” you whisper back. you bite back a groan when he started grinding against your cock, signaling that he was ready for round two.

you loved destroying stereotypes.

ur fav tall af characters <3

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Cherry.

Synopsis - The lines of friendship get a little blurry, one unassuming Friday night in December.

Pairing - Bestfriend!Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Warnings - smut. cursing. steve's got an ego, but for good reason.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 2k

Author's Note - hi lovelies!! my first steve fic!! listen, I actually really didn't enjoy stranger things, but... I love this man. he's charming and he's a softie and he's such a good character to write. hope you enjoy this - it's got me all warm and fuzzy. please feel free to send me a christmas request if you fancy, I'm in the mood to write some seasonal fics. much love, always!! <3

as always, reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics!! please, if you enjoyed, consider reblogging this so it gets further reach. comments and feedback are always appreciated!! thanks, angels. <3

Part Two. Part Three. Part Four. Masterlist. Inbox. The Moodboard. Series Masterlist.

Three rocks ping off the panes of your bedroom window in quick succession.

You're applying your moisturiser in the mirror, winding down and almost ready for bed. Your reflection is illuminated by a faint glow from the fairy lights you've draped over the headboard for the festive season, warm and comforting. A soft, jazzy melody is drifting from the radio softly, a welcome noise to break up the silence.

Another rock hits your window.

You fly out of your seat and towards the source of the trouble, worried that he's going to throw one too hard one of these days.

"Steve," you hiss as you yank it open. "Cut it out. Just come through the door."

"Where's the fun in that?" he chuckles, eyes rife with mischief.

You roll your eyes but step back anyway, making room for him to climb the tree and dive through the window into your room.

"Hi, sugar."

"Hi, Steven."

He grins at you, bright and awake despite the late hour.

"Don't you have better plans on a Friday night, King Steve?"

"And miss out on seeing you in your little pink pyjamas? Absolutely not."

You shove at his chest, smacking him upside the head for good measure. He feigns pain and wraps his arms around your middle, picking you up off the ground and spinning you in circles. You shriek, and the sound makes him laugh.

"Okay, okay! I'm dizzy! Put me down!"

He obliges by throwing you unceremoniously onto your bed, smirking when you almost bounce off it.

"So," he begins, sitting down across from you. "How was it? Do you feel like a whole new woman?"

You scoff.

"What? That bad?"

"Yeah, that bad. We didn't even do it."

He quirks a brow in curiosity, tilting his head to look at you.

"I thought tonight was the big night?"

"Yeah, it was supposed to be. But he was kissing me, and it just didn't feel... right? He started grabbing at me and I realised that you can only lose your virginity once - and that definitely wasn't how I wanted to lose mine."

You shrug, trying to play indifference, but Steve can see the hurt in your eyes.

"You always deserved so much better than him."

"Thanks, Steve."

"Come on, Cherry. The guy is an asshole who happens to be attractive. His face is the only thing he's got going for him."

The mention of your childhood nickname has memories of fruit flavoured popsicles on summer days flooding back. Laughter by the pool, pushing Steve in and screeching when he dragged you with him, staying out in the sun until you were both exhausted. Cherry. You've always been Steve's Cherry, for as long as you can remember. You still wear the lip balm he bought you last year, fitting for your moniker.

"You didn't like him from the start. Actually, you've never liked any guy that has ever liked me."

"Because they're not good enough for you."

"Says who?"

"Says me."

"And you're the boss of me and my love life now?"

"I'm the person that knows you better than anyone in the entire world. I think I have a pretty good view on things."

You huff, but accept your defeat in knowing that he's right. No one knows you like him. Steve always does this. He pisses you off, but makes you love him a tiny bit more each time.

He grabs your foot from the bed, pressing his thumbs into your sole. You relax instantly, tired of half arguing with him.

"I give up."

"With what?"

"Dating. Fuck it."

He chuckles, rubbing soothing patterns into your ankle gently.

"You've barely even started."

"Ooo, sorry Mr Womaniser."

"Stop it," he chides, pinching your calf. "Maybe The One for you just isn't in Hawkins. This place has always been too small for us anyway."

"Yeah, maybe. It'll all change when we go to college, hopefully."

"Exactly. It'll be a whole different ball game. There'll be tonnes of hot guys begging for your attention."

"And you'll be fighting them off."

"Yes I will."

You laugh, poking him in the chest with your foot teasingly.

"And maybe the college guys will actually know what they're doing in bed."

"Hey, some of us do know!"

"Yeah yeah, Steve's good in bed. I've heard it all before."

"Don't be jealous, Cherry baby."

"Jealous isn't quite the word I'd use."

"No?"

He drops your foot and scoots closer, settling in between your parted legs.

"You're not even a little bit curious what all the rumours are about?"

"Steve," you laugh. "I think they're probably just exactly that. Rumours."

He inches in towards you, so his forehead is almost touching yours. Running his fingers up and down the outside of your thigh, he takes a deep breath in.

"You should let me show you just how much I know. We're not all clueless, Cherry. I'm confident I could make you feel good."

You exhale with a shudder.

"I'm not letting you take my virginity, Steve."

"I don't want to. There's a thousand ways I can make your legs shake without fucking you, baby."

You stare into his big doe eyes, admiring the way a single strand of hair has fallen across his forehead. You look for a shred of doubt, or amusement, but all you see is love. Admiration. Trust. Sincerity.

"Okay," you breathe, before your mind has truly processed what you're saying. "Show me what you got, Harrington."

He grins, slow and saccharine, like the cat who got the cream.

"Steve?" you whisper.

"Yeah?"

"This isn't going to fuck things up between us, is it?"

He smiles, big and bright.

"Never. Nothing is ever going to fuck things up between us. It's you and me forever, Cherry Pie."

You chuckle at the nickname, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

"Well, then what are you waiting for?"

He shakes his head and grabs your ankle, pulling you across the bed and into his body. Wrapping a hand around the back of your neck, he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours.

"If at any point this gets weird, or you don't like it... Just say the words, okay?"

"Okay," you breathe, inhaling the scent of mint from his tongue. "Promise."

"Can I kiss you?"

"You don't usually ask," you tease.

It's no secret that you and Steve have kissed a few times. Once after prom, once at a party here and there, once when you were cuddled in bed comforting him after a break up. But it's never led to anything more. Which is probably why this feels a little different.

"I know, but this is a little more... intense, than usual."

You try to ignore the way your heart swells at his consideration for you, and nod your head gently.

"Kiss me. Please."

Steve wastes no time, leaning in to press his lips to yours. He tastes like spearmint and soda, with a hint of the cherry lipbalm he steals from your nightstand. You instinctively shuffle closer to him, straddling his lap as his arms bracket themselves around you. It's like he can't decide where to put his hands - they're roaming up your back, squeezing your ass, kneading your thighs. He's antsy and impatient, eager to feel you.

"Lie back," he whispers against your mouth, tipping you onto the bed.

Your head hits your pillows and you crane your neck to watch him as he crawls down your body, eyes never leaving yours.

"Steve-"

"Stop thinking so hard, Cherry. I can practically hear your thoughts."

You huff but can't keep the smile off your face, willing your mind to stop racing.

"Let me quiet things down, hmm?"

Steve presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your knee, trailing up and up until he reaches your hip. He licks across your hipbone before nipping it with his teeth, smirking when you gasp.

Grasping the waistband of your pyjama shorts, he asks for permission with his eyes, no words needed. You nod and lift your hips, letting him slide them down your body.

You've never been so exposed, which is causing a sudden realisation that the two of you are crossing a line that can never be uncrossed. As if he can read your mind, Steve presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, tender and full of love.

"Babe, if you want to stop..."

"I don't, I promise. I'm just nervous. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise," he murmurs, resting his head on your thigh and looking up at you. "Never apologise. You're doing so good, Cherry. I love you."

You didn't know what you were expecting, but it wasn't I love you. You've both said it to each other a million times, but something about saying it in this exact moment makes it feel... weighted. You'll talk about it later. You'll make sure of it.

"I love you too. So much."

You're whispering, scared to ruin the peace you've created. Steve kisses your skin again gently, gazing at you like you've hung the stars just for him.

"Let me make you feel good, okay?"

When you nod, Steve nudges your core with his nose, arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you anchored in place.

"So pretty," he's mumbling. "Prettiest fuckin' girl I've ever seen."

He starts slow, easing you in carefully. Kitten licks and gentle nips, testing the waters. When you tangle a hand into his hair and tug, Steve gets the message.

"You want more, pretty baby?"

"Yes," you confirm, more breathless than intended. "Please."

He dives back in, this time with more intention. His nose keeps nudging your clit, the friction licking up your spine deliciously. It's like he can't get enough, eating you out like a man starved.

He groans into your heat, the vibrations making you whine. When he curls his tongue just right, you keen, the sounds leaving your mouth foreign to the both of you.

"Fuck, you sound so beautiful. You're perfect. God, you're perfect."

"Stevie," you pant. "So close."

"I got you. Atta girl, I got you. That's my girl, give it to me."

Maybe it's the my girl, or maybe it's the way he's slipped two fingers into you, but the coil snaps. Your back arches off the bed as white heat engulfs your body, vision going black for a moment. You can hear him talking you through it, loving and encouraging. Eventually, your grip on his hair loosens as you go lax, collapsing back against the comforter.

Steve grins at you as he licks his fingers clean, crawling up your body to kiss you. You groan when you taste yourself, arms wrapping around his shoulders to keep him close. Resting his head on your chest, you run your fingers through his hair, humming gently when he relaxes.

"You okay?"

"Never better," you laugh. "You're good with your mouth, Harrington. I'll give you that."

"Told you the rumours were true."

You shake your head and reach over, grabbing the glass of water from your nightstand and taking a sip. You offer it to Steve without a second thought, rolling your eyes when he downs the rest.

He plucks your cherry lipbalm from the drawer and applies it to himself, before leaning up to carefully do the same to you. He pecks your lips sweetly before returning it to its rightful place.

"You replace it, don't you?"

"Hmm?"

"The chapstick. I've had it for a whole year, and I've never even come close to reaching the end."

He blushes as he looks at you, suddenly bashful.

"It's special," he murmurs. "It's our thing, you know? And it smells good. I like knowing that I'm the only one who knows you taste like cherries."

You want to poke fun at him, say something to make him laugh. But you can't. He's rendered you speechless, for the second time in one night.

"I like knowing the reason you taste like spearmint is because I've been slipping pieces of gum into the pockets of your jeans for ten years."

"I knew it," he laughs, leaning up to kiss you firmly. "I can't tell you the last time I bought gum."

"You're welcome."

Steve shucks off his jeans and his shirt, climbing into your bed with just his boxers on. You slip your underwear up your legs before getting under the comforter with him, tangling your limbs with his.

The tunes from the radio still hum gently as the fairy lights flicker.

The room is unchanged.

The people in it are not.

read Part Two here. Part Three here. Part Four here.

@lillian-gallows @bookish-embroidery-witch @sweetdazequeen @fruityforcocoapuffs @steviespookie @livsters @diffrent-spokes @violet2022 @mrsjoequinn @valerievortex @chrrymunson

[sandersstudies]

I’m sure other people have talked about this more at length and know more than me but I would like to see a true-life rendition of the Middle Ages and Renaissance where gay marriage is on the table.

Because it actually is very diplomatically useful! One thing you want as a member of the ruling class is children to 1) inherit your lands and titles and 2) to make alliances with other rulers. However, there are many cases where marriages made for alliances resulted in children that disrupt the line of succession or planned inheritance (differently under primogeniture than under split systems). (See Henry VI)

If rich people in that time weren’t pretty solidly convinced that marriages were solely between one man and one woman, they could have had the benefit of alliance without the muddling of the inheritance tree.

A lot of wealthy young men and women, even members of the ruling class, were committed to the church partially (there are a host of other reasons) to avoid their offspring making competition for their siblings (this was largely centered around gender, too, in eras where women came after their brothers in succession). (See Queen* Matilda) A child living as a member of the church can do you some favors, but arguably so can a child in a guaranteed-childless marriage.

And then there’s sooooo much diplomacy required to feel out this stuff. If you offer a childless marriage to another ruler who NEEDS descendants, he’s going to take offense, whereas if the marriage seems like your own family grabbing for his power via succession, he might prefer a childless one. Think of how courting and arranged marriages would be handled differently, and the amount of intrigue required.

Oh, the third son stood to inherit little, and was betrothed to a man, but then his elder brothers die and he is suddenly in need of an heir? Alas! Whatever shall he do!

Oh, the most eligible bachelorette in the land is seeking male OR female suitors… how interesting… I wonder why her father has arranged it so…

Oh, the lord chose to marry another man for love and lo and behold! This man hath conceived, and his family confirms that he in his childhood bore a girl’s countenance and bearing!

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

A Changed Future (1): Yandere Isekai 

When you woke after an especially tiresome day the last thing you’d expect was to reawake in a room that looked nothing like your own

The house, the neighborhood, your job everything was not your own

Instead, it’s resembling a webtoon you remember seeing the marketing, edits, and spoilers for

And if it was all adding up right you’d find the horrifying truth behind the controversial protagonist of the story would be incredibly true

“Look I’m sorry I yelled…I love you…I’m really hungry. Can I eat today?”

The beautiful and practically perfect protagonist was the one who trapped their love interest inside their–now your basement

Chained to the floor on a chair in the dark with unfinished surroundings was the poor victim of the yandere protagonist

Haruko, is an average guy who previously caught the protagonist’s attention by standing up to one an influential pair of elitists in defense of their crush but that’s hearsay

In the former protagonist's atmosphere the children of the rich were victims to their family’s whims often protecting their wealth rather than their children

Which caused Haruko to defend his friend from their overbearing parents

That is when the protagonist suddenly fell deeply in love with the average fellow 

Obsessively stalking him and eliminating their rivals by any means necessary

finally snatching their love and running to a small little home where they planned to have their dreamy life 

Of course, after breaking his spirit and having Haruko develop some kind of stockholm syndrome

To find that you’ve been isekai’d is jarring 

But being a protagonist that had the internet raving for years about how unhealthy they were is awful

But it was nothing when you were standing at the top of the stairs and watching the malnourished man call out to you

“Yeah….sure.”

Naturally you calm down, enough to make the poor guy something to eat and drink

Excusing yourself to have a breakdown in the bathroom before coming up with a plan to fix it all

“Y-you’re letting me go?”

“Yes, I won’t stop if you want to go to the police…but I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t.”

You felt so selfish 

But you weren’t the one who imprisoned him

Now that you were though you were going to turn a new leaf

After feeding him, clothing him, and giving him a hefty sum from the protagonists savings 

You go to their place of work where they’re in line for a promotion

“I quit.”

“E-excuse me (L/n)?! But your about to become the vice president of the company!?”

“I know. Sorry?”

You almost feel bad turning down the CEO who visits to try and reason with you

In your opinion, the protagonist didn’t deserve any of their success

They technically didn’t need it because they were stacked

Same could be said for the detective thats been constantly asking the protagonist questions

“You are actually agreeing to talk with me?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you hit your head?!”

With the knowledge from spoilers and ads you’d seen, you knew that the worst part of this story is that the protagonist is doing just fine while Haruka continues to struggle with his captivity and manufactured feelings

You want to do this right, whether you were meant to live in this world from now on or would one day return to your own

But in the meantime you’d do what you felt was right 

Turning their life—now your life around to somehow try to condone for all the crimes they’ve done

Unfortunately, though things don’t seem to want to go your way

“Please Please take me back!” 

“What?”

“You heard me! You were right you’re the only one who loves me! I love you! Please! Please! Take me back in your basement!”

“Okay?”

It seems that once you released the poor guy he returned to society

Expecting to be welcomed by his friends and family upon being missing for years

Who instead had moved on or had benefitted from him being declared dead

He tried to go back to working but he couldn’t get you out of his head

Not the one that ranted about adoring him and the one that would go days without feeding him

But the one that cried when you saw his skin bruising in his chains

The one that fed him a hot meal 

The one that helped him relearn to use his weakened legs

The one that keeps apologizing for every little thing you do

That’s the you, he likes

And he’d much prefer he turn back to being a victim trapped in your basement if it meant having you back in his life

“I don’t mind if you stay here if you need but I’m not keeping you trapped here. I won’t do it anymore.”

He cries and bangs his hands on the floor when you officially tell him

But he’ll take you up on your offer to move in with you

“Good morning (Y/n)! Since you quit your job you’re getting up so much later now. You’ve got to be careful waking too late.”

“Uhm how do you know I quit my job?”

“Unless you're locking me in the basement you don’t need to know!~”

He’s like a weird roommate who occasionally asks that you restrain him in some way

Purposefully rummaging in your storage to find ropes that you haven’t thrown away yet or buying them himself and leaving them out

“Ooops~! I did leave a chain out while cleaning! I’m so bad, being so careless even though you’ve been so against it. I should be punished! I know, you should tie me up! Right? Right? Right?”

He’s going insane everytime you refuse his demands to be locked away

You’re even sweeter now that he’s not locked away and that’s not helping

He’ll ultimately decide he should try it

“Hey (Y/n)?”

“Yes?”

“You still feel guilty about what you did to me right?”

“...Yes.”

“Then how about you do something for me? To make up for it?”

Even if you know you’ve done nothing wrong 

The guilt doesn’t stop you

Letting him lock you in the basement as he repeats some of the same punishments he remembers

Or rather tries to

“I just can’t seem to stand being away from you for a day, let alone not feed you then. I have no idea how you did it.”

You couldn’t be sure either

Which is why you don’t protest as his actions tend to get a bit more…wild

“Like you suggested I did try going for that new job again.”

“Uh that’s good.”

“I know since you’ve left they seem to be desperately searching for extra hands. I’d feel bad for them if you weren’t with me!”

“Right…”

“But being away from you all day is killing me! Maybe I should look for a more remote position.”

He treats you better than the former protagonist did 

Quickly moving you up to your old room and just chaining you there

But he wants more from you 

More Kisses

More Cuddles 

More Romance 

More Touching

More Quality time

He takes up so much of it, that the same problems that happened in the webtoon were happening again

Except this time it was related to you

“I’m Revmere the CEO of the Revere Co. I’m wondering is (Y/n) home? I’ve been trying to reach them by phone but it hasn’t been going through.”

“And I’m Detective Cape. Thomas Cape, I also need to speak with (Y/n) and you too if that’s alright Haruko.”

Part 2: Coming Soon

[prettieinpink]

NEW YEAR, NEW ME

( A collab with thee lovely lele @bloombabydoll )

If you want to reinvent and rebrand yourself, or just continue to make positive improvements in 2024, the first thing is to evaluate your current year. 

EVALUATION

Reflect on how things went for you. Was there continuous growth? Were there many difficult times? Did you discover anything major about yourself and so on. Try to summarise your year in (a) paragraph(s) at least. 

Oversee your goals. Which ones you didn’t, did achieve, difficult ones, easy ones and the impacts it had on your life. 

Compare your dream girl then and now. Is your visualisation of your life currently different to the one you have now and why? 

List any major losses or successes you’ve had in your life, and how they have helped you or why it matters to you. 

This evaluation can be as detailed or simple as you like, but as long as you have a decent outline of your year. 

PREPARING & PLANNING

To prepare for 2024, you want to know what you want life to be like in 2024. Something realistic to a point, but still is a growth journey. 

Think of something that you can associate with 2024. This can be a word, a symbol, art, a song, a book, a movie, a place, or even just all of these things. When you think about your goals and your journey, this is your theme. This is something that should relate to your goals or your dream girl somehow. 

For me, I chose a word and a song. My word is growth because, for me, 2023 was a year for just being able to shed my old self which I did achieve however I just felt there wasn’t much growth as an actual person and not just in my environment. 

For my song, it is Mayflowers by Proleters and Taskrok. This song is the epitome of what I would imagine, is the most polished mindset. I would say perfect, but having a perfect mindset is near impossible. I want to have a mindset glow up because I’ve just been hard on myself lately which has caused my confidence to plummet. 

Before we get into the fun part of the preparation stage, we have to do some organisation in our life. I want you to take a look at your daily lifestyle and your habits, and be completely unashamed about this. 

Then categorise these habits into two sections; Leave and Leap. Leave habits are habits that you are leaving behind in 2023, leap habits are habits that are leaping into 2024 with you. 

Any habits that are self-destructive, addictive or generally harmful are leave habits. Beneficial habits and self-building are leaping with you into the new year.

I want you to do the same for people in your life, all environments (school, work, online etc) and anything else you believe needs to be sorted out. 

This works better if you can reason with yourself why it is a leaping or leaving habit, but don’t try to convince yourself a bad habit is good or vice versa. 

Now, I want you to document an honest paragraph about who you are right now. List your bad and good habits, your strengths and weaknesses and your behaviours. This one requires a bit more detail. 

Then, write a paragraph about who you will be in 2024, your dream girl. List her habits, lifestyle, behaviours, mindset, strengths and anything else extra. I’ll explain later but do not include materialistic desires in this your dream girl. Once again, this one also requires details. 

Stemming from those paragraphs, I want you to create specific and achievable goals. SMART goals are best, but I want to introduce you to how I set goals. 

I divide my year into quarters. For each 3 months, I have 3-5 goals for those months. Usually, it’s one from each area of my life. Then, I break down these goals. 

Questions and How They Help 

Why do I want to do this goal - For motivation and commitment. 

How it’ll benefit me - For the sake of improvement. 

How can I involve myself in this goal - To achieve your goal.  

I prefer this method because it is a lot simpler for me, as I am just a young girl and my bigger goals are more in the future in which I’ll utilise SMART goals. 

To create good goals; Make sure they align with your current values and life principles first. Try to avoid creating goals that you have just taken from the internet. Those goals just aren’t it and you most likely won’t follow through with it. 

Be specific. Don’t say you want to eat more healthily, instead say you want to include (a certain group of veggies/fruits) in your diet and reduce the intake of ( food/drink). 

E.g using eating healthy example

I want to eat healthy -> I want to start including foods that boost my immunity system and support my skin while reducing those that have the opposite effect. 

Then break down those quarterly goals into monthly, weekly and daily goals. Make these habits that you can establish in your lifestyle and have a way in which you can refer back to your progress. 

EXAMPLE GOAL BREAKDOWN

Quarterly Goal - Read 6 books.  

Monthly Goal - Finish 2 books.

Weekly Goal - Be or near half way of one book.

Daily Goal - 20 minutes of reading per day. 

AREAS TO SET GOALS IN YOUR LIFE

Academics

Spiritual

Fitness/sport

Health and wellbeing

Mental health

Personal life

Relationships

Hobbies and recreation

Now for the best part- vision boards! Collect all of your favourite images that embody your quarters or the whole year, then put them in one place where you can see them regularly!

Some ideas are a scrapbook, Pinterest boards, mood boards, playlists etc. 

Choose your theme; It can be your healthy girl era, your academic come back or whatever you want. You can have more than two btw.

Use quotes! Then actually say them in your daily life as a way to shift your mindset to reflect said quote.

Include inspirational people. It doesn't even have to be a millionaire or a very well established person, it could be your friends or someone on the internet.

Be imaginative. Your vision board doesn't have to realistic in my opinion, as the whole point of it to me is that viewing it daily and considering it to be part of your life one day allows for you to open up to those opportunities.

Materialistic Wants

I feel obligated to make this a separate section. This section is practically tangible objects that you want.

However, when choosing this said object that you want, mindfully think about why you want that thing specifically.

It doesn’t have to be meaningful, but as long as each thing on that list has got a purpose to you, and will serve you, I think it’s all good!

Conclusion

If you want, you can definitely start implementing habits before January. However, I believe that as long as you go into 2024 at least knowing who you want to be and shedding away any limiting beliefs, you’ll be fine.

Make sure to incorporate some self care rituals into your daily life as well✨

To end this, I hope everyone has a very merry Christmas! And that 2024 they will achieve to close that gap with their current selves and their dream girl selves! 💖🙏

[phoenixkaptain]

I love it when pre Original Trilogy era shows how much effort went into making the Death Star. It took decades, literal decades, and it took so much money and so many people and it was such a secretive thing and it’s staffed by millions because it’s the size of a small moon.

I cannot express how much all of the added information makes it so much funnier that Luke blew it up.

Luke destroys literally everything Palpatine built. He blows up the Death Star, which was referenced in universe as early as the second movie. He blew up the weapon of mass destruction twenty years in the making. And he blew it up pretty much directly after it’s first and only successful attack. It was operational for fifteen minutes, fifteen minutes that Palpatine had the thing he’d been building for longer than Luke has been alive, and Luke blows it up. First day retirement, but first hour retirement.

Luke convinces Darth Vader to turn back to the light side, a feat thought literally impossible by literally everybody. Sidious clearly doesn’t see Vader’s betrayal coming. Vader’s betrayal was not in his plans, nor was it something he was prepared for. Sidious is a powerful Force user with all four limbs while Vader is a man in the tin can Palpatine put him in. If Palpatine had seen Vader turning coming, he would not have allowed it to happen.

Luke literally should not even be alive. Palpatine almost definitely got Padme out of the way on purpose, and he almost certainly was trying for her unborn child as well (there was way too big of a risk that a cute liddol bebe would bring some humanity back to Anakin, and Palpatine did not want Anakin to have any humanity) Luke living is literally the first step in Palpatine’s ultimate downfall, especially once Vader finds out that Luke is his son. His very alive son. His son that is not dead, despite Palpatine claiming Anakin killed Padme. Implying that Anakin killed Padme and she posthumously gave birth. But, she didn’t give birth on Mustafar, which was the last place Anakin interacted with her. And once the mother dies, you have to get those fuckers out fast or they die too.

I imagine Darth Vader piecing all of this together is that meme with all the math floating around his head, because how could Padme have died by his hand and then given birth like two hours later?

Luke killing Palpatine is what ultimately leads to the dissolution of the Empire as an omnipotent entity. Luke killed the Empire. Luke spends a good amount of his adult life killing Empire remnants. We see that in the Mandalorian, since he’s so recognizable that Gideon immediately knows he’s fucked just by seeing an X-wing. We read it in Legends’ continuity, where Luke terrifies Imperials because he can walk into their changing room and stand in their for a minute and they don’t even notice.

Luke destroyed Palpatine’s life’s work. Everything Palpatine spent his whole life working towards, and Luke kills all of it. He blows up not one, but two Death Stars (he may not have pulled the trigger on the second Death Star, but without him, it never would have been destroyed). He convinces not one, but multiple Sith and Dark Jedi to return from the Dark Side. He is the only reason that Obi-Wan Kenobi, the biggest pain in Palpatine’s ass ever born, lives long enough to make it to the Death Star.

Palpatine went through so much effort. And just when he had finally won, when he finally had a weapon capable of destroying entire planets with a single blast, making it impossible for any planets or peoples to go against him, Luke shows up nineteen years late to the Jedi party with space Starbucks and a droid twice his age and almost singlehandedly destroys everything Palpatine ever had a hand in creating.

Luke manages to become even worse than Obi-Wan Kenobi, the ultimate thorn in the side of politicians, and Luke doesn’t even understand any politics. He wasn’t trained in diplomacy like Obi-Wan and Leia, no, he’s a farmboy who left home for the first time in his entire life, just this morning. And he is the one to destroy the Empire.

If they rewrote Star Wars and had it entirely from Palpatine’s perspective, Luke Skywalker would be his greatest foe. Luke Skywalker would be the final boss. Luke Skywalker is the antithesis of everything Palpatine believes in and he is the one character that Palpatine cannot predict. He isn’t as moldable as Anakin, he doesn’t respond to threats very well, he’s apparently impossible to kill via Force lightning (still the funniest scene of all times, the progression of Palpatine’s face falling and him looking like “what the fuck??? Is this kid rubber??? I’ve electrocuted him eight times???”), his unwavering faith in his father’s goodness makes Darth Vader want to be a better person, Luke Skywalker is the big bad of Palpatine’s story and—

There is nothing in this world that is funnier than someone’s biggest antagonist being Luke fucking Skywalker. Luke Skywalker, who saved the galaxy with the power of love and who shouldn’t exist, by Jedi rules and by Palpatine’s own attempts, and whose best friends are literally droids, which Palpatine canonically hates!

Everything about this is hilarious, this is the funniest thing in all of media, Palpatine loses absolutely everything to some backwater farmboy who fucking likes droids.

[coweye]

Just Logan

The worst Logan part ii

Logan Howlett x Reader!Loganverse| smut | 10k words

Summary: You return from the void ready to navigate your new reality with the not-quite-love-of-your life. Second Part to worst Logan.

Warning: Mentions of drugs, Canon Typical Violence, gratuitous Laura paternal love. smut, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, assplay mentioned.

AN: Fair warning my loves - this hasn’t been proof read… unless you’re reading this after the 26th August! I’m currently posting this on my phone at an airport 💖 I love you all so much and can’t express how much your love for my stories has meant to me!

Achilles once said “I would recognize you in total darkness, were you mute and I deaf. I would recognize you in another lifetime entirely, in different bodies, different times. and I would love you in all of this, until the very last star in the sky burnt out into oblivion."

For seven excruciating years you’d been without him. 

Eventually, time had dulled the ache, made it so you forgot what it was to have another hold you through the night, to make you feel safe and loved. Love was like a drug; one you had unknowingly spent the past half a decade weaning yourself from.

Then he appeared; ‘The worst Logan’ as Wade had not-so-affectionately dubbed him, and in one fell swoop undid years of hard work. He came and reminded you just how fucking good drugs were - that motherfucker was class-A narcotics and he was addictive as hell.

By mid morning you were already desperate for another hit, your eyes searching for him around every corner.  Part of you was afraid you had gotten him all wrong, that perhaps you didn’t know this man as well as you thought you did. Though at the last second Logan had shown up, unfolding him from the boot of the Honda and joining the fray, every inch the hero he insisted he wasn’t. 

You and Laura sliced a path through your enemies, side by side, the two of you moved in perfect synchronisation. In the years since his death, she had taken Logan’s position in your formation, and now the two of you fought together as naturally as breathing. 

Logan couldn’t help but watch the two of you together for a moment, though after a knife to the ribs as reward for his lack of awareness, he shakes his head free from the indulgence of his ready-made-family and returns to the task at hand, carving his way through the enemy to get to Cassandra. 

 It had been a hard-won battle, though Laura had been extraordinary. You, yourself had been outmatched with the Juggernaut, only in a position to bend the light keeping yourself from sight as you inflicted shallow cuts with your blades along his arms and torso creating confusion and pain that allowed Laura to find her openings.

Your girl sliced through his Achilles bringing him to his knees before she ended his life with four claws through his chest. 

In your eyes, as she stared down Goliath her soft features melted into a renaissance painting. A woman in her own right, overflowing with untold power, those shades making her look every inch the badass motherfucker you knew she was.

You can’t help your untimely realisation that your daughter has grown into a formidable woman as you propel her through the air with bubbles of psionic energy to deliver the helmet to her not-quite-father and Wade.   

The brief moment of triumph as you overcome Cassandra’s men is followed in quick succession by the sobering loss of Logan for a second time, as he leaps through the golden shimmering portal.

It had been the plan all along, and yet you couldn’t quite account for the stone in your stomach weighing you down at the realisation he is gone yet again.

Laura’s deep brown eyes, all too often full of difficult emotions, are hidden behind the colourful sunglasses, though you can tell from the fall in her shoulders that your girl feels the same grief. She had held out childlike hope that the two of you would stay with him despite his earlier brush off and you are far too ashamed to admit you had been harbouring similar hopes.

To have gotten him back for a single day only to lose him again, for you it is painful. For her, it must be torment.

So, you put a pin in your pain for now. Loss is an old friend, one that will no doubt visit in the dead of night when sleep inevitably evades you, but Laura needs you.

Swallowing your grief deep down, you begin by tucking her wild dark hair back behind her ears and with the bone of your knuckle you wipe an errant splatter of blood from her brow.

Around you, your team bask in the defeat of Cassandra and her people, yet the two of you mourn losing yet another Logan.

“The time we had with him was a gift.” You whisper to her. The second you touch her palm with your finger tips; her claws instantaneously retract. You interlock your fingers with her own bloodied ones. 

For a moment the two of you stand together like this, coming to terms with the loss. It doesn’t destroy you the same way North Dakota had, but it has certainly taken the air from your lungs. 

“What now?” Laura asks, burying her emotions, more like Logan than you care to admit.  

“Now we find a way to get back home, Cassandra’s not hunting us anymore, maybe we can-“

“Miss Y/LN, Miss- “At the sound of an unfamiliar voice your head whips round and you are armed with a knife before you even make the decision and from the telltale ‘snikt’ behind you so is Laura.

 “Holster your weapons.” The agent shouts as the group of forgotten heroes turn their gaze on the TVA squad who have appeared from the orange glowing doorway. “You have been offered a pardon on order of the time variance authority - please come with us.”

 Laura steps forward, though you place a steady hand on her shoulder stopping her in her tracks. “The last time we trusted you people, we ended up in this dump.” You shout across the gulf that the agents have left between you. 

When has anything in life been this easy?

 “Mr Howlett and Mr Wilson saved the multiverse. All they have asked in return is for a second chance for the people who helped them do it.”

Whilst remaining utterly compelling it still feels far too good to be true. You look at your daughter; she pushes her sunglasses to the top of her head and nods once. She’s not a little girl anymore and she wants to go through the damn doorway.  With little in the way of options you decide with a deep sigh to be an optimist, which is how you end up in Wade Wilson’s apartment.

Five people (six if you include Dogpool) living in a two-bedroom apartment was …  to put it lightly, snug. Wade being the secret gentleman he was, offered up his room to you and Laura.

Nights he didn’t spend at Vanessa’s were spent sharing a bed with Al, much to her delight, which left Logan sleeping on the couch.

Logan: This Logan was nothing short of an enigma to you. 

The two of you had been friendly, smiling and laughing, sitting together at the party Wade had thrown to celebrate saving the universe.

It felt good, easy even to joke with him and Laura. You had felt like a real family as you sandwiched the young girl between the two of you, taking it in turns to make her laugh.

When she had abandoned the two of you to talk with Yukio and Ellie,  you had fallen into comfortable companionable silence. The simple fact of the matter was that you didn’t have much in the way of small talk, all of your talk was massive talk. A mountain you’d soon have to overcome, but neither of you wanted to break the spell.

So, you simply enjoyed each other’s company and when your knee knocked against his under the table, you didn’t bother pulling back. Instead, when he didn’t immediately recoil, you left it there pressed against the warm muscle. 

This casual touching was new to both of you and you were drunk on it, occasionally you’d brush his plaid covered bicep as you leaned across to stroke the monstrosity that was Mary Poppins or you’d brush your fingers against his with a smile when you handed him a fresh beer.  

It’s fair to say, you are both black belts at emotional avoidance. 

Her abandoned airbed, more electrical tape than plastic at this point, lies deflated in the corner of the bedroom, dual holes from slender claws having led to its untimely end.

With a sigh you rise, stretching your aching back. 

Wincing as it cracks from contorting on the edge of the double mattress- even in the goddamned void, you’d had more personal space than this.

Sparing a glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table, you see it’s 6:23am. In a vain hope you just listen to the sounds of the quiet apartment, no one else has awoken yet. You sigh with relief, desperate for some alone time, after living for a week with everyone underfoot. 

Closing the bedroom door behind you as silently as possible, you tiptoe with bare feet with the honest intention of going to the kitchen for some coffee.

Only you’re sidetracked by the man sprawled across the sofa looking like he was carved from goddamn marble.

The blanket is wrapped around his plentiful jean covered thighs as his bare size twelves extend comically over the arm of the sofa. Logan’s thick, veined and extremely bare arm hangs off of the leather cushion, whilst the other clutches a pillow under his head. Logan is wearing a white vest that leaves very little to the imagination, so much so you’re unable to help the flashback of stroking the abs you know linger below the almost transparent white cotton. You’re unsure how long you stand there, but it can’t be more than 30-seconds before his eyes wearily blink open, startling you.

“Paint a picture, it’ll last longer, Bub.” When he speaks, his voice is even thicker than usual with sleep, it’s like honey on gravel and it makes your skin tingle.

“Uh-” You’re lost for words after being caught ogling the sleeping man. All you can do is a quick apology as you carry on through to the kitchen.

When you’re safe from view, you slap palm to your forehead - Why? Why couldn’t you for once in your life just be smooth? 

The second you're out from under his searing gaze a million infinitely suaver responses flood your mind. ‘Don’t mind if I do.’ ‘Don’t tempt me.’ 

You’re nearly (Y/A+7 years) old, not the idiot girl that pined after the unattainable bad boy of the mansion. For the love of all that’s holy; two different versions of that man have been inside of you, and you ran away!

You’re pacing in front of the fridge when you hear his body slide against the leather of the couch. Honestly, you’re praying for the void to swallow you back up as you try to act casual, filling the coffee machine with water.

 “Mornin’.”

“Good Morning, Logan.” You reply though you can’t quite meet his eyes as you flick the switch for the drip to begin. 

“Back on the couch - Eh, I was just kiddin’ around, Bub.” He scratches his neck awkwardly.

“Oh. I, uh, I know.” You reply, finally meeting his eyes. Those hazel eyes stop you in your tracks as they scan your face for any trace of emotion. He’s as out of his depth as you are, and that thought alone calms you. “I’m sorry, If i’ve been strange the past few days… I thought…I just assumed I would never make it out of the void and I was there for months and uh-”

“Bub… y/n... I don’t hold you to what happened that night.”

“What?” You narrow your brows in confusion, you were only going to talk about the uncomfortable adjustment period to regular life.  

“You were vulnerable, I look like your guy. I get it.” His voice is still deep and he’s trying to be so understanding and noble, you can’t help as you reach out and grab his bare wrist, your forefinger can't even meet your thumb as you hold onto his thick warm flesh.

“Logan, no that’s not what I meant at all. I-” 

“-Mornin’ love birds! Don’t let me stop ya’ from takin’ care of that mornin’ wood, just getting some delicious nectar of the gods.” Wade comes from the bedroom wearing Al’s lilac dressing gown and what looks suspiciously like the older woman’s pyjamas, riding far too high up his shins to be his own for the much taller man. Wade leans against the counter next to you and the coffee machine, burying himself in the neck of the dressing gown and looking pointedly at your hand around Logan’s wrist and whispers. “Pretend I’m not even here.”

“God give me strength, Wade.”  Somewhere along the way, Logan’s rage with the mouth has dampened to the point there’s no real threat behind the warning.

As there’s probably about a few teaspoons of coffee in the machine, every fresh drop plinks against the glass jug only enhancing the newfound silence in the kitchen.

“Good Morning, Wade.” You sigh finally, rubbing your thumb against the hair covered flesh of Logan’s wrist in a promise as you try to use your eyes to communicate; we will discuss this. 

“Honestly, I’m not even here. Just go back to staring longingly at each other, talk amongst yourselves.”

“Fu-” Logan starts, his nose flaring at the man beside you, his finite patience already slipping.  

“Incoming.” Wade sings-song lowly, as he drops his head onto your shoulder.

“What are we all doing in the kitchen?” Laura asks through a yawn, her bed head innately ridiculous standing up on all sides - probably from a night spent tossing and turning, kneeing you in the spine. When Logan tears his wrist away from your hand it stings a little, but you understand, the last thing Laura needs in her life is more confusion.

“There’s a line for the coffee, kiddo.” Logan gives her a look that's somewhere between a smile and a grimace. The man’s sharp edges were slowly being worn away again and he was really trying with his daughter, though a tiny growl leaves the young woman at his words.

“She’s not a morning person.” Is the only answer you have for him when he looks your way both confused and quite frankly a little frightened as your daughter takes the first cup of coffee and returns to her room slamming the door behind her with her foot.  

“Teenagers, huh? Whatcha’ gonna’ do with them?” Wade sighs, still leaning his head on your shoulder having made no effort to stop the queue jumper.

Logan gives Wade a meaningful look and tilts his head towards the door, which the man currently invading your personal space bubble continues to ignore. 

There’s something about Wade you can’t find it in yourself to be annoyed by. 

Those years on the run with Charles, Logan and Caliban had been so hopeless, so void of laughter, that the man with the constant jokes puts you at ease, makes your heart feel lighter. Wade makes you smile which has been a rare commodity in recent years.

Perhaps it's the fact he makes the world feel a little lighter that makes you so willing to tolerate the overly familiar head on your shoulder. 

The two men are having a silent conversation, as you stare at the fridge awkwardly.

“I…uh… I think I’ll jump in the shower.” You detangle yourself from Wade and place a meaningful hand on Logan's arm. “Talk later?”

He looks to your hand, and then to your face and simply nods. 

Only, you don’t end up talking later, because after your shower, you return to your bedroom hell bent on getting dressed and heading out into the city for the day to get some distance before you start your new job tomorrow.

That’s when you find Laura twisting her hands and waiting for you. The second you close the door behind you, she stands.

“You alright, bug?” You ask, giving her the opening she so desperately needs. 

“I, um, have some news.” She can barely meet your eyes, a trait you’re sorry to say she’s picked up from you. 

“Yeah?” You prompt, taking her hand in yours.

“I want to join the X-Men.” Your mouth opens involuntarily to reply, but no words can find their way up your throat; you’re irrevocably thrown. 

In the years since the devastation Charles had wrought on the manor, you hadn’t been able to muster the strength to return to West Chester.

“I know, you might not be sold on the idea but I want to use my powers for good, I don’t want to get a normal job - not that the coffee shop isn’t great for you - but I’m-”

“It’s great, Laura.” Your voice sounds wrong even to your ears. “I’ll do my best to get used to being back in the Mansion-”

“No.” You can tell it slips out, she honestly doesn’t mean it to. “I … I, uh, want to join the X-Men, me. I want to go alone.”

“Oh.” You can’t help the deflated sound of your voice, you hadn’t foreseen your daughter breaking up with you when you woke up this morning.

“No, mamá,” She takes your hand in hers, desperate to fix it. “I love you and I can’t ever repay-”

“No, Laura.” You tell her. She looks terrified before you rush to finish. “You don’t ever have to repay me. You are fucking magnificent, so you go be an X-Man. I love you so much.” 

She wraps her arms around your middle, buries her face in your  shoulder and squeezes, she's just as tall as you are now at nineteen years old and fuck if it doesn’t break your goddamn heart.. “If you get yourself hurt with those do gooders, I’ll fucking kill you.”

After dressing and many more tearful hugs as the two of you talk logistics, it's decided she’d be heading over to the mansion in the morning. 

You start work and so does she.

Your heart drops when you hear she’s put off telling you for the past five days, ever since she’d had the offer from Ellie and Yukio at the party. 

Later that evening telling Logan goes, well, about as well as you might expect.

“No.” He growls furiously. “Absolutely, no fuckin’ way.”

“Logan-” You try.

“You agreed to this?” He’s blind to reason as he turns on you. Al and Wade both sit in the living room, having called an ‘urgent family meeting’. 

“I for one think it's a great idea! - not that we haven’t loved having-” One look from Logan does what you had up until this very moment thought impossible and shuts Wade up. 

“Logan, she’s an adult - she wants to join them. We should be supportive.”

“Supportive?!” He’s incredulous as he laughs harshly, voice utterly brimming with condescension when he continues. “You forgettin’ what happened there, huh, bub? You and I are the fuckin’ sole survivors - Last of the class! How's your Storm doing? Your Hank? Your Scott? Oh wait, their all fuckin’ dead!”

Your Logan never spoke to you this way. Never directed that fire within him at you, it's unfair, the comparison, you know this but your brain is misfiring with shock. 

Had your Logan ever truly cared about anything this much when you’d been together in those dark days? Had all the fight truly left him back then? Had the two of you just ended up together out of mere convenience?

When you don’t reply, he just stares your way, his nose flared still utterly furious, at you, your betrayal, at Laura, at this situation he’s not emotionally equipped to deal with. This Logan’s shoulders are squared like he’s preparing to go a few rounds with you and not in a sexy way. 

It's not a situation you’re entirely sure you’ve been in before; you’ve never been his enemy.  So you’re not sure how to approach this cornered animal, ready to swipe out at you in his fear. 

“If I didn’t go to that school, I never would’ve met any of you. I would be back in Y/H/T (your hometown) and I’d be lesser for it.” 

It utterly disarms him, he’d clearly been prepared for harsh words to combat his own.

Pacing like a tiger locked in a cage, he finally sighs rubbing his forehead irritability. Logan turns, grabbing his leather jacket making the doorframe shake as he slams it after himself. 

“I think he’s secretly happy for you, Laura.” Wade’s voice is light and full of sarcasm.

“That went just about as well as to be expected.” Al huffs from her position at her side as she takes Laura’s hand in her own. “I’m sorry, Sweetie. He’ll come round to the idea.”

“Yes, he fucking will.” Seeing your daughter's face crumble as he storms off like a child is apparently your breaking point.

You follow after him, though as you’re a grown adult in charge of her emotions you simply allow the door to close behind you.

“Haha! - She’s gonna beat the shit outta’ him! Its gonna’ be like 454 when she-” You hear Wade cackle as you take off.

It doesn’t take long to find him, you know the man better than you know yourself, though it does certainly help that he’s predictable as shit.

The closest bar to the apartment is where he’s pulled up a stool, his nose flares the second he smells you.

“I mean it this time, I’m not looking for damn company.”

You ignore him, just as you did the time before. 

“Two Corona’s please.”

“I don’t drink that shit.” he huffs. “Corona and a Blue Ribbon.”

It shouldn’t hit you the way it does. 

Just like before, this miniscule insignificant difference, it utterly devastates you.  

A simple fact; his favourite beer. The drink he ordered at every bar he entered without fail - is suddenly, without warning, repulsive to him. 

It just serves to remind you that the man slouched on the bar stool beside you is a complete stranger wearing the face of your dead lover.

Perhaps your Logan drank it simply because he didn’t want to hurt your feelings? 

Had he hated it all along? 

Did he only drink it because you did? 

Maybe the beer is a pertinent metaphor for your entire life.

He only drank the beer because it was there, just like he only fell for you because there was no one better around. 

Your mind is moving a mile a minute, you’re only bought out of your spiral by a bottle being placed down in front of you.

Shaking your head, you will yourself to calm down. After a few centering breaths, Logan is looking your way. 

“Thought you were comin’ to give me a talkin’ to.”

It's funny, in a way, your spiral actually has calmed you, reminded you that this isn’t your Logan. 

He’s a different man with his own set of wounds, trying to navigate this awful situation just like you are. 

“I was going to. You were a dick to her back there.” You sigh, taking a sip of your beer. “Then I remembered everything… everything you’ve lost and I thought maybe I could just cut you some slack this time.”

“That's generous.” He shakes his head, sipping his own beer. “This whole things a fuckin’ mess.”

You can’t help but agree with a nod. 

The two of you sit in silence, which would appear to be the norm these days, you have so much to say to one another, yet you can’t seem to find the words. 

Speaking to him, finding out more of the things that are different about him, terrifies you.

Little do you know, Logan is fighting a similar battle.

He hates the weight of your gaze, how it seems to hold the expectation of the great man you’d lost with every glance, it's a constant reminder how short he falls of the anchor being this world lost. 

“Where am I in your world?” You ask the question you’ve had on your mind since meeting him. He knows almost everything about you, and yet you know so little.

“Dead.” He sighs rubbing at his eyes. “With the rest of them.”

“Did we ever?” He looks your way sharply at this question, then gives a harsh shake of his head. 

It hurts a little to know you were always in the background for him - it's difficult to think of a world where you always loved him from afar, never getting to feel his skin on yours. 

“I mean - you’d have had to pay attention to someone other than her for that to happen, I guess.”

“How the fuck’-” He growls voice filled with a new emotion, one you’re not quite familiar with. Bemusement? Disbelief?  “-has this turned into me being the bad guy for not noticing you?” 

“Eh - you were a real asshole upstairs.” Smirking, you take another sip of your drink. “Question for a question? - Take it in turns?”

“I don’t wanna’ know anythin’ about your world.” He snaps, turning his head back, though you can see him watching you in the mirror beside the booze. 

It's like a countdown, you watch him battle his volatile emotions. 

5, 4, 3 , 2, 1.

“Fine.” He grunts into his beer bottle. “How’d they die?”

That throws you, you’d expected how’d we meet? What happened to Charles? Instead he hits you with that straight out the gate.

“Uh - Charles had started showing signs of a degenerative brain disease. I mean,  he was old, prone to seizures. We were desperate to find a way to control them. We were blind… to the reality of the situation.” You take a sip, resting your forehead on your hand as your eyes ache and threaten to water, this was the first time you’d ever discussed this out loud.. “Then, he had a fucking grand mal … it … it wiped out everyone within a 100,000 foot radius.” 

Unable to help it, you pick at the skin around your thumb. “It was… devastating. He killed them all. All the kids in their classrooms, our friends and family. Not even Jean could stop him.”

“He… he killed Jean?”

You're a little ashamed of the flare of jealousy at his devastation about the woman you’d always come second to. But you push that deep down, it's not the time nor place.

“How’d you survive?” He questions. 

“I was away. I’d heard of a neurosurgeon in Germany, he was developing… Well, it doesn’t matter now. But I was away, whilst everyone I cared about died.” 

You’d never had a need to speak of it, Logan had lived it alongside you - there was something cathartic about saying it all out loud. You wipe at your cheek as you gulp down the last of your drink, a heavy stone weighing your stomach now. 

“Your turn.” Logan’s voice is deep in thought as gestures to the bartender for another. He’s extending an olive branch, a kindness in the face of your vulnerability. 

You think about it for a moment, what you’d like to know. 

“We were friends at least?”

“Oh yeah, we were the best of friends, Bub. You were… uh … a lil’ younger back there, never really looked at you that way.” He scratches at his bearded chin, he’s avoiding looking your way again, uncomfortable sharing these parts of himself. “You… uh… you were gonna have pups with Pete.”

“With Maximoff?!” You squeak disbelieving, whilst taking a sip of your beer prompting a coughing fit to end them all, as you gasp for air. 

Logan sighs, slamming his open palm between your shoulder blades. He rubs the spot he just hit in a circle pattern, reminding you somewhat of the last time he drew circles.

“I had a baby with Peter?” You push your hair back from your face. “...That's why he used to stare at me … y’know there was one time…” 

You smile fondly recounting a time you caught him staring creepily across your classroom before you remember that sweet silver haired kid in your memories is dead. The smile drops from your face in an instant; you didn’t have children with him because he’s six feet under. 

“No. You were pregnant when….” He grunts, his voice has a raw edge to it. For two people constantly at odds, your souls were in the same state of flux, continually aching for vastly different reasons, yet at the root, the same cause. 

The two of you sit in silence for a moment or two, you’re processing the fact that you almost had kids with Quicksilver and he’s no doubt regretting ever playing this game.

The game. 

“It's your turn.”

“This is why she shouldn’t join them, everyone we know is dead.” Logan has had enough of the game as he sighs, rubbing at his eyes. “Being a goddamn hero gets you killed.”

“Logan.” You touch the back of the hand currently gripping the beer bottle neck like it owes him money. “She’s strong, stronger than me. Laura is you in every way that counts. She’s ridiculously stubborn, headstrong - even when she’s wrong - and she has a kind heart. She wants to use those gifts you’ve given her for good. How can you stand in the way of that?” 

Logan’s hand flips over, his warm callused fingers coming to link around your own. 

“The kind heart is all you, bub.” 

The beers have loosened your tongue, made your anxieties seem a little further away.

“I don’t know. You have your moments.” His fingers dance along your palm, stroking the broken planes.

The two of you enjoy this easy intimacy you’d been forming over the past few days. 

“How’d we get together?” Those instruments of death you’ve seen take countless lives, glide over the soft skin of your wrist. Your eyes, usually so afraid to meet his, can’t leave their hazel captivity as you process his blunt question

“Oh, uh…” Tucking your hair behind your ear with your free hand, your eyes dart to his fingers still drifting across your flesh.

“Don’t get shy on me now, bub.” He smirks, though his heart’s not in it. 

That asshole. 

Taking a deep gulp of your third beer, you rely on the liquid courage, before raising your eyes back to his.

“One night. It was a few days after everything, we had finally got a sedative for Charles. We had a moment to take stock of everything we’d lost. You … uh … he came to me and … he cried. The first time I’d seen it.” His hand pulls back, but you can’t help it, you refuse to release your hold. You don’t want to lose this connection. Your thumb dips, rubbing at his knuckle, at the joint where his claws always caused the bone to ache. “I held him and he kissed me, it was messy. It was desperate but I think we both needed to feel something that wasn’t grief.” 

“And I thought I was special… ” His voice holds sarcasm though you can tell the sentiment behind it is anything but humorous.

“You are special to me.”

“Yeah.” His voice is dismissive, like he doesn’t believe what you’re saying.

“You are.”

“I look like the guy who’s special to you, darlin’. I’m not him, as much as you may wish I am. Hell I wish I was.” He has snatched his hand away as he slams cash down on the bar.

Logan has started the short walk back to the apartment, cutting through the alley.

He’s hurt, burying it deep beneath the rage. His anger is an old friend. One he’s comfortable confronting.

“I’m done with your stupid games. I’m done with it all. Haven’t you got the memo? I’m the worst Logan.”

“I’m so fucking sick of that! You’re so goddamn cruel to yourself.” You cry out at his leather covered shoulders, that in itself seems to stop him in his tracks. The Y/N from his world was a mousy wallflower through and through, nothing he’d seen from this world led him to believe you were any different and yet his ears weren’t deceiving him. “I loved my Logan - I fucking adored him. Yes, sometimes it's hard to separate the two of you, but I care for you.”

He stands motionless in the alley as you bare your soul. 

“I’ve known you for a week. I can’t love you the same because you’re not the same person, not entirely, but my soul knows yours. You’re Logan.” You’ve closed the distance but he still wont turn around and perhaps that's what makes it easier to say the things you’ve been desperate to say for days. “I look in your eyes and I feel safe, when you touch me everything feels like it's going to be okay. You’re not the worst, you’re not the best. You’re Logan; you’re just Logan.”

Logan is on you instantly, silencing your words with a scorching kiss. It's the kind you see in movies, desperate, filled to the brim with passion, usually taking place in the rain.

His hands find your lower back, pulling you to him as your wrap your arms around his neck, making sure he can’t escape from your grasp, as he growls and pushes you against the brick wall. 

Your nose aches from the pressure of his cheek pressed against it as he devours your mouth with his own. He is claiming your mouth with a week of pent up emotions. He grips your thigh, hiking your leg up around his waist, pressing the hardened bulge of his jeans against your core. 

“Mom? … Logan?” 

There in the street light Laura is illuminated. Her face gives nothing away, she may as well be wearing those sunglasses for all you can garner from her expression. 

“Hey Love! - I.. We…uh-” Logan slowly releases your thigh, slyly adjusting his jeans in an attempt to hide his erection. You do your best to stand in front of the -ahem- sizeable bulge. 

“How's it going?” You ask with a faux air of casualness as you place your hands on your hips, though your voice has a weird edge.

“Pretty good. How’s it going for you?” Her own voice has a coy little smile to it, which puts you at ease just a little. 

“Great, I’m great. Logan? You great?”

“Great.” He grunts behind you. 

“Great! - Everyone’s … great.” 

The three of you stand in silence for a second or two, processing what's just happened or perhaps trying to decide if great is still a real word.

“You’re so weird.” Laura snorts. “For the record I’m happy that you both pulled your heads out of your asses.”

“Baby-”

“Kid-” You and Logan speak in sync. Your eyes lock as you both try and decide how the other was going to finish that sentence.

“Laura - me and your Mom… uh… things are complicated… and we don’t want to drag you into this.” Logan, the man of very few words, has managed to find them. You’re stunned into silence as he takes control of a conversation… about feelings… with his daughter.

This is not any Logan that you know.

Laura looks to you, waiting for your seal of approval on the message.  

“I know how confusing things are already, Bug.” You close the distance between the two of you, linking your fingers with hers.  “Me and your dad, we’re working through some things.”

You notice Logan’s shoulders setting straighter at his new title, like a welcome weight has been placed upon them. She nods at your words, smiling devilishly.

“It was just a matter of time, Mama. He has a staring problem.”

“No, I fuckin’ don’t.” He growls from behind you both. Your heart feels lighter than it has in a decade as the two of you cackle at his defensive response.

He digs his hands into his pockets glaring your way, though it has no heat whatsoever behind it, in fact he looks like he’s fighting a smile.

With your hand still firmly in Laura’s you pull her back towards the apartment, linking your arm through Logan’s warm, thick leather clad one. He doesn’t take your hand, but he also doesn’t pull away as the three of you walk back to the house. 

“Can we get pizza? - For emotional trauma?” She questions.

“Baby, I’ll buy you all the pizza in New York.” You reply rolling your eyes.

“Not with fuckin’ pineapple on.” Logan groans.

“Pineapple on pizza is objectively delicious!” Laura defends from her place on your otherside, she pulls on your hand still hanging between the two of you. “Back me up.”

“I will always have your back … but…. pineapple on pizza is in fact a crime against humanity.” 

Logan lets out a guffaw of victory, as Laura snarls his way. You take a mental picture, the warmth in your chest, bracketed in by your two favourite people in the world. Life is good.

Laura leaves the next morning. 

It is a difficult pill to swallow, after seven years by her side. You can’t quite make the leap to take her to the mansion, it's something she understands. So when you embrace her at the doorway after Ellie reassures you for the 30th time she’ll look out for her, you find it hard to let go.

There hasn’t been a day you’ve been without her since you first met the scrawny 12-year old in Mexico. Laura is an extension of you, like your heart is on the outside of your body and you’re not ready for your heart to go to West Chester without you being there to protect it. 

At that moment you understand why she needs this independence, she’s 19 years old. She needs her own life, to experience everything it has to offer but that doesn’t make letting go any easier.

“You call if you need anything, anything at all.” You tell her as you push her hair behind her ears. “Don’t stay up too late but also don’t go to bed too early to make friends but make sure you get plenty of sleep.”

“I will get the perfect amount of sleep, don’t worry.” She grabs your wrists, removing your hands from her hair.

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” You sigh, your anxiety is eating away at your stomach. She’s not the vulnerable child being hunted anymore, you try to remind yourself. “If you need me-”

“-If you need us. We’ll be there.” Logan cuts you off, interjecting his own amendment. 

In a show of affection you’re not quite expecting, he hugs the girl. It's somewhat awkward and clumsy, the two have known each other for a week, but when they pull back, you can see the gesture was all that really mattered.

He hands her her backpack, which she throws one strap over her shoulder. The two smile at each other in their silent language, both such quiet souls. 

When she turns back to you, you ask. “We can walk you down?”

“Stay here? It’s easier this way.” She looks so small as she pleads with you.

Taking mercy on her, you nod. 

“Okay.” Waving you watch her turn for the door. You don’t expect however when she turns back and barrels into your chest for a final time, burying her face in your neck.

“I love you, Mama.” She whispers, you can’t help it as your eyes water. You wrap your arms around her, squeezing her tightly to your chest. 

“I love you. You are my world.” You know she needs you to let her go for her to be able to walk through that door. So with a deep inhale of her hair for the road, you pull back gathering your strength. You pull her other strap onto her shoulder and push her hair back from her face. You wipe her tears from her cheeks and give her the biggest smile you can muster, despite your teary eyes and broken voice. “Give them hell, baby.”

Laura nods, giving her own matching teary smile. Her back straightens and her shoulders square as she follows Yukio and Ellie down the hall. The duo waving at you as they descend down the stairs.

You’re so busy watching your world disappear down the hall you barely feel the heavy warm hand wrap around your shoulder in comfort. You melt into Logan’s side as your heart shatters.

You wait for him to leave in a hurry, only he does the last thing you expect of the Wolverine. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you to his chest. You close your eyes as the tears begin to fall against your will. 

Logan strokes your back. He doesn’t offer any words of comfort, but he doesn’t need to, his presence alone is enough.

His trimmed beard, bristles against your hair as he places a kiss on the top of your head, burying his nose in your hair as he holds you. 

It's hard to say how long the two of you stand there like that. Only when your body stops shaking do you finally look up through tear streamed eyes.  Logan looks down at you, his face is lined with concern. 

“You good?”

“I will be.” Your voice is broken from crying. “I-”

“I know, Bub.” He smiles your way, one you’ve not seen, perhaps ever.

It's soft, sympathetic but filled with adoration. He pushes the strand of hair, now sodden with tears, back behind your ear. His finger lingers on the curve of the bone for a moment or two before he pulls back. 

“Bar?”

“Bar.”

Things change when Laura leaves. Not massively, and not entirely for the worst.

You and Logan had started sharing the bed, not like that (unfortunately), but sleeping next to one another. It was comfier than the sofa and his body curled around yours made you sleep a hell of a lot more soundly. Suddenly years of insomnia were cured by his muscled warmth curled around you like a safety blanket.

He never made a move to further it, even if you had once or twice tried to entice him by grinding your backside against his morning wood. The man was nothing if not resilient as he rolled away, grunting.

The two of you had been getting to know one another, you had resolved to treat him like a whole new man. This revelation meant that their differences weren’t such a blow anymore, you didn’t actively compare the two of them as much.

You had created a clear picket line in your head and it seemed to be working. They were two different versions of the same man, each with their own merits and disadvantages. 

They weren’t to be compared.

The two of you had started a ritual of movie nights, evenings where you’d sit a little too close on the couch and pretend it wasn’t happening. He’d share a blanket he knew he didn’t need just to get close to you. It was a little uncomfortable when Wade asked to come under the blanket but you enjoyed the time spent with the clown,  

In fact, your favourite night had been when you, Wade and Al had all sat down to watch the Notebook - the movie Logan point blank refused watch.

Yes, the movie he objected to so strongly, then proceeded to watch from behind the couch, standing awkwardly on the threshold of the lounge. Where he lingered for the first half an hour pretending to have no interest in it. 

When the end credits came around he was back under the blanket with you and Wade, utterly refusing to admit that he’d cried. 

That argument with Wade had gotten heated and he’d put three little tears in your blanket, but it was one of your fondest memories in this apartment. 

It had been three weeks now. Only two of them had been spent hunting for a room that you could afford on a barista’s salary, which was the only job you were qualified for after dropping off the planet for the past ten years.

Colossus had offered you your old teaching position though you didn’t want to cramp Laura’s style and you didn’t think you could face stepping foot back in that mansion, too many of your ghosts lingered there. The same could be said for Logan, though he had found much better paying work at St Margarets.

He and Wade did odd jobs, merc work to pay the rent. They killed bad guys and got paid for it, and boy they got paid a hell of a lot more than you.

The coffee shop below Wade’s apartment, or waking hell, as you’d come to know it was your slice of a regular life; trying to push your circle peg into a triangle hole.

Its a 24-hour coffee shop, cause who doesn’t need caffeine at 3am? Tch. New York. You’re leaning on the counter a million miles away, contemplating if the graveyard shifts are worth the illusion of paying your way when Logan makes up most of your share of the rent anyway.

Your singular customer is a young guy typing away on his laptop, desperately trying to finish what looks like a college essay. He’s eleven espressos in and has been here since before your shift started at 5pm. You haven’t been told if you can cut someone off, but surely that much caffeine must count as overserving. 

The bell above the door tingles loudly, the warm lights illuminate his red mask. 

Wade.

“Hey angel baby!” He comes to the counter, pretending to read the board as if he hasn’t been here a million times before.

“Hi Wade.” You smile tiredly at the man. “What’cha want? It's on the house!”

“Ooooh, gimme’ a Caramel Macchiato but hit me with like 6 shots espresso, extra caramel and don’t skimp on the whipped cream - I like to call this the don't stop til dawn.”

“Your insides must be a mess.” You shake your head and get to making his drink. 

“How’s the soul crushing service industry treating ya?” He asks, leaning one hand on the counter.

“It’s okay. A little boring, but not so bad, nobody's shooting at me.” You motion downwards with your eyes to the fresh bullet holes in his red suit.

“Ha! Yeahhh. But it's good old fashioned fun, beating guys to a pulp, saving kids from trees, taking candy from cats.” You roll your eyes at the man. “But they say, if you love your job you never work a day in your life! And boy, I love my job.”

You're steaming the milk when he speaks up again, shouting loudly over the machine. “You should come and work with me and Logi Bear. He’s 10% less of an old grumpy fuck when you’re around.”

He’s still shouting when the machine quietens, making your cringe a little as the kid looks your way. This isn’t the first time Wade’s broached the subject with you.

“I get you wanna move out, we love having you, but I get that Al’s old lady smell can get sorta’ overwhelming after a while.”

“Wade.” You sigh, admonishing his jokes about the lady who you’ve grown to care for in the past month. “If you didn’t live in a two bed, I’d love to stay, but it's just too small and I want you to have your bedroom back. I hate feeling like a burden.”

You secure the lid to his drink when its finally complete. “One heart attack in a cup.” 

“My favourite.” His mask contorts around the eyes showing his smile. “Oh Wolvie’s upstairs in bad shape. Something took a fuckin’ chunk outta him.”

“What the fuck Wade?! Why didn’t you lead with that?” You’re pulling off your apron and halfway around the counter before you remember your shift isn’t over for another hour.  

“Cause’ then you wouldn’t have made my fast juice.”

Ah fuck it.

“Don’t steal the cash register.” You warn the kid looking your way. “He’ll hunt you down and beat the crap out of you.”

Wade waves at the kid behind you, he has his macchiato in one hand and baby knife in his other for special effect. The kid gives a look of ‘Jeez’ before returning to his work.

“You coming?” You ask when your almost half way through the door.

“Nah - saving innocents makes me hungy. Fork hands has his healing factor. He'll be fine.” Wade replies dismissively.

Huffing you turn on your heel and practically run to the apartment. 

A chunk out of him? 

Logan's healing factor was significantly better without the adamantium poisoning but surely he could die. In an instant you’re back in North Dakota, holding his hand as he fades away. 

Your breath is heavy as you take the steps two at a time. 

Not again. 

The door is thrown open and instead of chaos you find the lights dimmed, candles all over the apartment and there Logan stands in a new plaid buttondown and his finest wranglers. He’s holding a bouquet of sunflowers in those veined hands you love so much. It's like something out of a Danielle Steel novel and you utterly melt.

The panic that had clutched your heart recedes. Your anxiety releases its grip on you. 

“You’re not hurt?” 

“No, bub. I’m fine. Sorry for the clown. He offered to help and I…”

You shake your head and smile at him, hesitantly you take a step forward. When you’re close enough he hands them your way. “I have it on good authority, they’re your favourites.”

“They are.”

“I wanna give you what you deserve, sweetheart.” He starts, it's like he’s rehearsed it in his head. Little do you know it's all his thought about for the past three weeks. “You deserve more than a romp in the woods, or an alley.” 

He seems to cringe at this before continuing.

“I’m not like the other guy. He was a goddamn anchor being, hero through and through from what I hear about him. I’m angry, I kill people and I drink too goddamn much, but when you look at me, I feel like I could be him.” For the first time, it is him that takes your hand in his much larger one. “Do you know how jealous of that asshole I am, Bub? That he got you first? That he got to have your uncomplicated love. If you’d been older in my timeline, I would've’ met you first, I wouldn’t have looked twice at another and I’d have fallen for you the second you looked up at me from beneath those eyelashes, how could I not when everything about you is so easy to love?” 

You’ve always been a crier, and this is no different. The man is stamping down every single one of your insecurities, reassuring you as you go. Making you feel more loved then you’ve ever felt before.

“I adore you. From your crappy cooking-”

“-Hey.”

“Your porny books you think I don’t see, to the way you cry at movies, how much you love our daughter. I fuckin’ love you Y/N. Its messy and complicated, I’m not sure if you could-”

In a total role reversal it is you who cuts him off, grabbing his face in your palms and dragging his face down to yours. Your mouths join for the first time in weeks, it is hot and full of desire and love. It's like the two of you are releasing all of your tension into this kiss, finally the air has been cleared and it's rejuvenating. 

You press your forehead to his, gasping for breath as his kisses steal the air from your lungs.

“Lo, I guarantee every version of me loves you, even if you were too blind to see it in your world.” 

“You were a married woman in my world, bub.”

You gasp theatrically. “Adulturerer.”

“You’ve spent too much time with that fuckin’ idiot.” He kisses your lips, though you don’t let it turn into anything deeper, as you pull back rubbing your nose against his. 

“Fornicator.” 

“tch… stop.” He groans, grabbing your ass pulling you into his bulge, you bite his lip with a giggle. “Why do you have these lined up?”

He never gets his answer as he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his back and carries you through to the bedroom. You pull away from his mouth, looking over to the set dinner table.

“The food… you went to all that effort!” He is kissing your neck, nipping and lathering the bites with his tongue. 

“Can’t cook for shit, darlin’. It’s take out, we can heat it up. I’m hungry for your fuckin’ sweet cunt right now. “

Your lower stomach clenches at his positively filthy words, you join your lips back to his. His teeth nip at your lip as he plunges his tongue into your mouth, running the tip along your teeth. 

Before there had been need, but now, you’re both desperate. You’ve had a mere taste of what the other has to offer and now you’ve starved yourself for months. 

“Not gonna’ last long on the first, darlin’.” He groans into your mouth as your hand works its way into his pants. He is eager as he throws you back onto the bed and is already working at peeling your black jeans down your legs. “Those fuckin’ shorts you sleep in, fuck. I’ve been dreamin’ about buryin’ myself in ya’ for weeks.”

“Please, Lo.” You’re not sure what you’re already begging for but you are desperate. You’re left in your uniform tee and panties, as he slowly unbuttons his button down, slowly revealing the white undershirt beneath. You’ve never found collarbones particularly attractive, but the tanned skin stretched across his is quite frankly delectable. 

You pull your shirt over your head, all too eager to be rid of the reminder of the job you should by all rights be at right now. Your bra is quick to follow.

“Those gorgeous tits, been thinking of these every fucking night.” You groan at his admission. He himself is shirtless, you have half a mind to return the same complement as your hands brush against his perfectly sculpted pecs. 

This man was the perfect specimen, it was unfair, t shirts should be outlawed for him. He grabs the waistband of your panties. 

‘Snikt’ and a rip sound and you are utterly bare before him, laying across Wade’s bed. 

Those gorgeous strong hands trace the planes of your body, circling your nipples before his mouth takes their place. 

He groans as his hands descend to your core. “All this for me? I’m gonna’ fuckin’ slide in, Baby.” 

And he does, two fingers push through your tight slick opening, three weeks of foreplay have left you soaking wet and wanting. How can you live with a man who looks the way he does, who consistently works out in the living room shirtless and not have the ocean in your panties. 

It seems Logan has had all he can take as he slides a third finger in, pumping it in and out of you, rubbing at your clit with his thumb. Gasping you grab at your sheets desperate to anchor yourself. 

He kisses up your breast, lavishing your chest in kisses and bites. Never enough to leave a mark but just enough to excite you. 

When he’s at your neck he leans in, whispering into your ear. “I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin that pussy.”

You can’t help it, maybe you’re a whore for this man, but you don’t fucking care. Your legs part even further on the bed.

“Please, Logan. I need you to fuck me.”

He grins savagely, pushing his already undone belt and jeans down his hips. He’s back up and claiming your mouth, your legs wrapped around his ass, pulling you down to him before he knows it. 

One hand is bearing his weight as the other disappears, he lines himself up at your entrance, the head of his cock breaching your folds. He’s thick, thicker than you remember, but there isn’t any discomfort this time. He settles for a moment, his forehead against yours. His mouth dips to join your lips, his tongue lashing out and fucking your mouth as his hips leap forward spearing you on his cock. The bed creaks with the power of his hips as he fucks you hard into the matress. 

Skin slapping on skin is all that can be heard as he readjusts onto his knees, he’s desperate to be as deep as possible and you need the same thing. 

“Lo-”

“I know, darlin’.” He grabs your waist, lifting you as if you weigh nothing at all and flips you over. Suddenly you’re astride him, your knees either side of his hips as his head rests in the pillows. 

His eyes are distracted by your tits as he smirks, happy with the view. 

You ache for him, so you reach down, lining his thick purple headed member with your core before you sink down in one stroke, his extended groan absolutely wrecks you as his big hands come to rest on the meat of your hips. 

You rest your hands on his amply hair covered chest, using his pecs as leverage before you raise your hips before slamming back down and bottoming him out. 

He’s so deep inside you, the tip of him must be brushing your goddamn cervix as you raise yourself once more, until he almost slips out before meeting his hips once more. 

Logan’s strength never fails to surprise you as his hands follow your lead yet help lift you through the manoeuvre. 

You’re bouncing on his cock, quick rise and fall sporadically grinding your clit deliciously into his pelvis. 

Logan feels fucking amazing inside of you, maybe its been the buildup of weeks but you find yourself heading towards the dive faster than ever before. 

“Ride my cock,sweetheart. That’s it, make yourself feel good.”

Gasping at his words and the change of position as he sits up, wrapping his arms around you and claiming your mouth. The second you find the angle that feels amazing against your clit, you hit it again and again, grinding hard against him.

“Lo - I’m gonna … I’m gonna -” You crash before you can get the words out, your toes curl by his knees and your whole body seizes in ecstasy. The world feels right as the stars appear behind your eyes.

The world stopped for you for a moment but not for Logan. He has bought his knees up and is pistoning his hips into your contorting body. He’s holding you against him, groaning into your neck as he continues to fuck your clenching pussy relentlessly.

“Oh fuck … your so fucking tight. Fucking perfect cunt- made - for - me.” He growls into your neck, but you’re too cock drunk to hear it properly, as he frantically thrusts his powerful hips up and into you. 

“Where? ” He pulls back, never slowing his hips as he grabs your cheeks with one hand. Your sweat laden face, vacant and looking back at him, your cunt hasn’t stopped clenching around him as he plunders your depths, his voice is strained as he asks again  “Darlin’...you gotta … tell me … where?”

“...inside, Lo. Please come inside me…” Your so overstimulated, you could cry.  The sound of his balls slapping against skin as he thrusts upwards deep inside of you, whilst he pulls your body down. He’s so fucking deep inside of you, your pussy squelching from a mixture of precum and your arousal.

With another string of lewd words he’s coming hard, Logan’s head has fallen back against the headboard exposing the thick chords of muscle, you can't help sinking your teeth into it, you dip your hand and rub at your clit clumsily, you’re so fucking overstimulated from watching him you follow him over the precipice once more, giving him an insanely tight sheath to come in. 

“That’s it, take it all, sweetheart” He groans as he continues to slowly pump his seed deep within you

Gasping you fall slack in his arms, your bones are jelly and your muscles ache, you really are a pillow princess. 

“Still with me?” You manage to nod your clammy forehead against his pec, you currently have your cheek squished against. He chuckles, as he lies back against the pillows, leaving his cock still inside of you, you can feel him leaking out of you as he softens a little, recovering for what you imagine will be another enthusiastic round if history is a teacher. 

You are utterly fucked out as you lie on his chest, listening to his breath with his cum slowly leaking from your abused hole. 

The two of you have never needed words, you lie against his chest, the hands you adore so much, come out to stroke your hair.

Rubbing soothingly at your scalp before running his calloused fingers through the locks and repeating. 

When you’ve finally gathered enough strength you lean on your hands, looking up at him.

“Welcome back, bub.”

“Hello.” You smile shyly, like you hadn’t just sunk your canines into his neck whilst wantonly riding his cock to oblivion. 

“You okay?” He asks, his hand rising to stroke your swollen bottom lip.

“Someone fucked me brain dead - but yeah, I’m good.” You smirk, nipping at his thumb.

He grins wolfishly and chuckles with his whole body, the movement causes his cock to move inside of you. Slowly you feel him hardening once more.

“You can still talk, Darlin’. Means I haven’t done my job properly.” The predatory gaze in his eyes excites and scares you in equal parts. Though you’re probably asking for trouble when you take his thumb back in your mouth. 

It's light outside when you finally have to tap out. 

Your pussy is aching, your ass is stinging from the new sensation, your jaw throbs and your entire body is boneless. 

You can’t quite catch your breath and your cunt is leaking so much cum, that you’re probably 10% Logan at this point. 

The Wolverine has utterly devoured you, making up for three weeks of torment in one night. Though he’s not all bad as he feeds you noodles from chopsticks as you lay on his muscled hair laden thighs. 

When Logan had suggested food, you’d had to stop him from eating Wontons from your belly button as none of your holes were currently operational. 

The two of you have dressed, though that is a strong use of the word as you’re wearing only his button down and him only his underwear. 

You’re lazing on the couch watching reruns of Friends as your bed sorely needs fresh sheets and a new base. Poor Wade, you’d have to replace it before you move out. Like he could read your mind, Logan begins. 

“I found a new place, its nothing fancy but its got four walls and no roommates.” You smile at him around your mouthful of noodles as he takes his own bite.

Sitting up you smile. “That’s great news, Lo.”

“I uh- wanted to see, if you’d wanna come with me.”

You can’t help your grin. 

fin.

I am currently posting this at the airport before my flight. I love you all! 💖